#( and is in fact holding onto his humanity with bloody hands )

[endawn]

reading a sort of dnd masterlist on the vampire lore section makes me sad because of these excerpts:

Are vampires evil? As a rule, yes. Gleefully so. Vampirism, the condition, is inherently evil/harmful. Vampires as individuals may be more complicated, as they are still people with their own personalities, and vampirism can affect them atypically or with varying levels of severity. There are exceptions to norms and rules…except for the rule that vampirism is a curse and it does corrupt one's emotions and values, twisting them to be monstrous parodies, inversions or extremes of the original quality to at least some degree.

Even when they want to be good people, vampires are flat out described as typically being "innately selfish" which "makes a good alignment difficult to uphold." Vampirism also instils sadism and violent tendencies - vampires enjoy violence and hurting people and when they experience rage the sensation is made more powerful.

However, a vampire can resist this corruption. There is at least of a fragment of the mortal they were in a vampire, the "part of it that is still mortal [and] yearns tenaciously for the things it had in life," even as the parts of them consumed by vampirism scorns those impulses. If their will to do so or their attachment to a specific part of their identity is strong enough then individual vampires can retain/maintain some part/s of their mortal self intact and untainted by the curse.

It is unfortunately far easier for vampires to backslide than to move forward, and there is no escape from the constant instinctual drive to become evil for as long as a person remains a vampire, but it can be done.

5e says they do have a soul, but it's corrupted in the manner already discussed. In the Baldur's Gate series? Yes, they do. Aside from the whole 7000 souls thing, back in BG2 there's a vampire you kill whose soul is in agony and lingers to beg you to kill him and thanks you when you do for freeing him from undeath. In BG3 you may read Caz..ador's subconscious thoughts- as he mourns his mortal life, "the monster that will not end" and wishes to die. The soul is still there in the background, but it really wishes it wasn't.

Young vampires often turn their loved ones in order to avoid losing them to age, disease and death. This obviously backfires, as the loved ones can only stay with them as slaves or enemies.

One day, inevitably, the stress and misery of eternal unlife gets too much. Depression is a given. Paranoia is also incredibly common. Whatever coping mechanisms the vampire has steadily spiral out of control. If the vampire's choice happens to be violence and hedonism, then they rapidly devolve into an utter monstrosity. Often the vampire's struggles become increasingly obvious until they're killed either by hunters or another vampire. Suicides also occur.

[candycandy00]

Office Life (Shigaraki x Reader)

Just Shigaraki awkwardly fantasizing about the cute receptionist who works in the same office building as him. You guys let me know if you like this quick “imagine” format for when I don’t have a full fanfic idea.

Smut. 18+. Violence/Blood (not Reader’s). Gender neutral Reader. Dubcon.

Shigaraki, who never had much interest in sex before, when he was so busy with the League and the war. Sure he jacked off to hentai every now and then, but the thought of having real life sex with a real live person didn’t really enter his brain. 

Until now. 

Shigaraki, who is fresh out of prison and working a dumb office job as part of his “rehabilitation”. Who is ignored and avoided by most of his coworkers because of his very publicized past. 

Shigaraki, who just can’t understand why you’re nice to him, why you smile at him so sweetly, like he’s an actual human being and not a monster. Why you, the cute receptionist from down the hall, keeps coming into the office he works in with five other men, desks all lined up neatly. 

Shigaraki, who likes that you look at him and acknowledge him, but sometimes has the irrational urge to show you how terrifying and monstrous he can be, to make you fear him the way everyone else does.

Shigaraki, who sometimes has violent fantasies about you that he will never act upon. Like today when you come into the room to share cookies you baked and brought in to the office. You, having such an obvious crush on him that even a socially inept weirdo like him can tell, blush and smile shyly when he takes a cookie from the box you hold out to him. 

Shigaraki, who has no idea what you could possibly like about him, but feels a little smug that the rest of the guys in the office are clearly jealous. 

And as you move toward the back of the room handing out cookies, constantly glancing back to see if he’s eating his, as if wanting his approval, Shigaraki’s dark fantasy takes over again. 

He imagines standing up from his chair and moving through the room, decaying each man in turn, most of them still holding their dumb fucking cookies, only to reach the back, where you’re cowering in a corner, trembling with fear as blood pools around your feet. 

You turn around to look at him, terror in those big wet eyes of yours, and then the pleading starts. He imagines you begging him not to kill you, babbling promises to not tell anyone, confessing your love in some desperate attempt to win his favor. You’re still clutching your frilly pink box of homemade cookies in your shaking hands. 

In his fantasy, he has perfect control over his quirk at all times, and with no effort at all he can decay the clothes right off your body, leaving you naked and vulnerable in the room full of bloody chunks. And you drop the cookies in your shock, trying to cover yourself with your hands. 

He won’t allow that. He’s wondered what you look like under your clothes for too long. And so he roughly pulls your hands away, getting an eye full, before shoving your back onto the nearest desk, spreading you open and unbuckling his pants. 

In this fantasy, you always struggle at first. But after he starts fucking you hard, you begin moaning his name, wrapping your arms around him, looking up at him with teary eyes and blushing cheeks as he rails you. 

Shigaraki, who snaps back to reality when you walk by him, the scent of your floral perfume drawing his attention. You look at the uneaten cookie in his hand and a flash of sadness crosses your face. He hurries to take a bite, and tries to give you a smile that isn’t creepy. 

You smile back, and he knows for a fact he will never, ever act on his worst impulses with you. Because far more than his desire to show you how much of a villain he can be, he wants you to keep smiling at him. 

And someday, maybe he’ll stop being a fucking coward and ask you to go to a movie with him. 

[mochatsin]

WHEN MC FAINTS

You’re not sure if it's the workload from RAD, the student council preparations, or the fact you have to keep 7 demons under control, but you find yourself so dizzy and fatigued. You were hanging out with the brothers in the living room, and you felt your body give in when you went to get a glass of water.

------------

Lucifer

He’s noticed how you’ve started to look more tired than usual these past few days. When he asks you about it, you reply that you’re fine with the same kind of enthusiasm but all of that is gradually wearing down. 

He’s actually the one who told you to get some water when you complained about your headache. He’s also the one who proceeded to lecture his brothers when they started asking you to bring back a few snacks from the kitchen. 

“MC is not your servant. If you want something then go get it yourself or I’ll do something about those legs of yours.” 

While you were on the way to the kitchen, you felt very lightheaded and cold. When your legs gave in, Lucifer stopped mid-lecture and turned to you quickly when he sensed something was wrong.

Before you could even land on the floor, he ran at a speed and at a blink of an eye, you’re already in his arms. 

Expect his mood to go south the moment he sees that you fainted. Would command all the brothers to prepare your room, medicine, pillows, everything you could ever need. His orders are absolute and if anyone slacks for even a second then he’d threaten to string them up by the toes.

He would put his work on hold since ‘it’s for the sake of the exchange program’ and he won’t leave until he makes sure you’re okay. At some point he had to convince Diavolo not to summon the best human world doctor for you. 

Once you’re awake, he’ll give you the biggest hug ever. “You have no idea how bloody worried I was about you…” 

He wanted to lecture you about being more honest if you’re not feeling well, but after seeing your state? What’s more important is that you’re okay. 

If any of his brothers would start bothering you, it’s guaranteed that he’s going to take them out of your room so you can recover peacefully. 

Punishments are harsher from now on if the brothers drag you into any sort of trouble. 

“My brother’s are my responsibility, so focus on resting for now my love.”

Mammon

He lessened bringing you around in his schemes when he noticed how sluggish you’ve been. He says that it’s because you’re slowing him down but really, he didn’t want to tire you out more than he normally does. 

So when he sees you fall, he’s the first one to start running to you out of panic. 

Would hold your body close and refuse anyone from touching you. Like a dragon guarding his treasure. 

Eventually he has to let you go so that they can see what’s wrong with you and get you the help that you need. 

Human biology is not his best suit at all, all he knows is that humans are fragile and this incident is one of the scary reminders to him about that fact. Even if it takes just a few days of bedrest, he’s afraid that it’s still worse than it actually is. 

Would be your guard dog while you’re asleep. He’ll make sure that none of the brother’s are trying to bother you while you’re recovering. Asmo wants to pamper you? He’s suddenly out the door. Belphie wants to nap with you? Find your own bed! 

They’d get annoyed, but the last thing they want is to cross him when he’s on the edge. He’s only like this when it comes to you, so if space is what you need then he’ll make sure that you’re getting that, even if it means he’ll be barking at his brothers. 

When you wake up, he’s running to your bed and holding onto your hand “A-ARE YOU OKAY?!” He’ll ask every 5 minutes. 

If you try to say you’re fine, he’ll just be pouty “Ya said that, but you passed out anyways. I ain't believin ya one bit!” 

He’ll handle any work and chores you have while you take your time to recover. You’re not gonna be able to lift a finger. Water? He’s on it. A book? Already by your side. A snack? He’s got you covered.

Just hope that he doesn’t cause more trouble than necessary when taking care of you. If you want to eat, he means well when he cooks for you but he forgets to clean his mess and it infuriates Satan.

Levi

Levi used to be pouty whenever you started falling asleep during your anime marathons, or when he’d start talking to you about his latest games. Is it because he’s a good for nothing otaku with no interests outside games and anime? 

You reassure him that it’s not him, you’ve just been feeling so tired lately. That’s when he started noticing the signs of you sleeping late and looking more stressed. 

When he turns around and sees that you fainted, he would scramble his way to hold you. His game? This is one of the rare times he doesn’t care if it’s saved or not. You’re more important right now!

Would be all sulky while sitting next to your bed as you recovered. He’d wish he paid more attention to these signs so this wouldn’t have happened. 

Asmo had to tell him to stop being so depressing next to you, that’s not the energy you need when you wake up so Levi tries to perk up by preparing all the shows you two can watch together.

He’s seen more in your room than in his own, which is rare if not for these circumstances. 

Levi could barely concentrate on his games while you’re asleep, and he’ll constantly ask his brothers if you’re going to be okay. He doesn’t want to lose his Henry. 

He’ll panic a bit once you’re awake, asking you several questions just to make sure you’re fine. 

“M-MC! You’re awake! D-do you still remember me? It's Levi! How are you feeling? Are you in pain anywhere?? Sick maybe???”

You have to explain to him, if his brothers haven’t, that this happens to humans who don’t get enough rest. You’re not in any life threatening condition at all. 

He’ll start scheduling his gaming sessions and anime binging to a better time so you would still have plenty of hours to rest. He doesn’t have a healthy sleep schedule but that doesn’t mean you should copy him! 

“Y-you should stay here in bed and rest… I can drop by here more often and we can pick up where we left off in that show you like! I-if you’re okay with it!” 

Satan

He would notice the signs early on when you’re more prone to falling asleep while reading with him. 

At first he likes how you get to sleep on his shoulder. But your optimistic mood started to decline with stress and he began to worry. 

He would be the one to remind you to take breaks every now and then. But you always tell him that you’re fine so he never pushed it. 

He regrets not doing more to help you when he saw that you fainted. He would immediately shove the rest of his brothers out of the way to get to you first. 

Satan was glad he picked up books about humans and healthcare. Something he did when you two began growing closer. At least he knows what to do in situations like these. 

That doesn’t alleviate his worry though. He sits next to your bed, reading your favorite book for you while you sleep. 

If any of his brothers try to disturb you, he’ll be very happy to throw them out. Your peace and quiet is his top most priority so you can recover. 

When you wake up, he would gently place a hand by your forehead to check if you’re feeling sick. 

“Ah, glad to see that you’re doing better. No signs of a fever, you should be fine with a few days of rest but please… be more honest with me when you’re not okay? I want to help you, kitten.” 

He would be gentle with taking care of you. If you miss out on any homework, he’ll be happy to help you out with any of them once you’re feeling better.

That gentleness is not extended to his brothers though. He doesn’t want you cleaning up their messes from now on, his brothers need to learn.

Asmo

Asmo started to notice when he saw how pale you’ve been lately whenever you’d do skincare together. He’d comment about it and offer to take you out on a spa day to relax, but he’d whine every time you’d decline. 

Being as dramatic as he is, he’d let out an ear shattering scream when he finds you on the floor. (Rip to the twins that sat next to him)

Since he knows little to nothing about human health, he’s going to worry too much. 

“What if it’s actually worse?!” “... Asmo it’s not.” 

Satan would probably have to calm him down first and explain what happens to humans who overexert to him. 

Expect him to be all over you once you wake up. He’d give you all the hugs and kisses while asking if you’re okay. 

“Darling, don't make me worry like that again!! It’s got my hair all messed up and my skin wrinkled! you know what that means right? We DEFINITELY need that spa day now.”

You can’t say no to that spa day now, but of course he’ll wait until you’re fit to go out again.

During bed rest, he’ll pamper you and make sure you’re not neglecting yourself. Skin care routines do somehow help boost your mood, you’re not sure if it’s a magical effect of those facial creams he puts on you every night.

He drags you to these salons and spas more often so you can take a break. He’d even offer you some of his bath soaps and scrubs that promote relaxation. 

Beel

He starts getting worried when you are eating less these days. Sure, he’s happy to eat leftovers sometimes if it means more food for him but the portions you leave on your plate are getting bigger lately.

He would ask if you’re okay, since you barely eat lately. You tell him that it's just the stress but you’ll be fine.

When he finds you on the floor, he would scoop you gently in his arms and carry you to your room effortlessly. All while never taking his eyes off you. Thank god for his amazing strength, he could carry you like you weigh nothing. 

Beel looks like the equivalent of a sad puppy when he stays by your side despite all of his twin’s effort in cheering him up. 

Would constantly ask “When will MC wake up?” to his brothers.

He bought all your favorite snacks, while trying very hard not to eat them, and placed them on your bedside table. Maybe if you’re surrounded by the food you like, you’d feel like eating them when you wake up. That’s what he thought at least. Though half of the snacks are gone by the end of the day.

Once you do wake up, his eyes will perk up and call his brothers first so they can check on you. 

“MC, I don’t know what I can do for you if you’re sick but… would it help if I feed you? I’m worried you’re not getting enough. If only that’s okay with you.”

If you said yes, he would be patient and feed you while you recover. You get the bed and breakfast treatment with him, since he doesn’t want you to tire yourself out, though most of the time it’s Belphie who brings it up so Beel won’t eat it on the way. 

He’s more attentive about whether or not you’ve been eating the right amounts at the right times. If he notices that you haven’t, he’ll treat you to your favorite places. At least that way you’re getting enough food, and he gets to spend time with you. 

Belphie

Belphie has complained about the decrease of ‘quality nap time’ with you when you had to do a lot of student council work. Though he noticed the bags under your eyes, and how you’re starting to fall asleep more in classes.

“MC, you look awful. When’s the last time you’ve slept?” He's straightforward like that. 

He would whine every time you say you’re too busy with work. He swears that he’s going to complain, even if it’s against Lord Diavolo, just to lessen your work so he can take naps with you.

When he finds you passed out, expect that his mood is not going to be very pretty.

Beel had to be one to carry you, since strength was not his forte at all. But he would bring all of his softest pillows in your bed because your comfort is what’s important right now. 

Would definitely straight up nag Lucifer in giving you less work because Belphie will not allow you to touch a single piece of paperwork until you actually get enough rest. 

He would snuggle up against you like he always does, but it feels lonelier than usual given these circumstances. He just has his arms around you, hoping that when he opens his eyes, you’ll be looking down at him with a smile on your face.

He would be glad that you’re awake and whenever you try to sit up, he’ll make you lay back down. 

“You shouldn’t get up MC. This time, you’re not leaving this bed until I’m sure you’ve slept enough okay?” 

You can’t really fight him about this since he’s right, so you both make up for all the lost cuddle times. He’ll even let you borrow his favorite cow pillow too.

Though Lucifer would argue that it’s you who needs to be on bed rest and not Belphie who’s constantly asleep with you. You watch when the youngest gets dragged away from your room with a sour expression on his face.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hello! Glad you took some days to rest its always good to take a well deserved break!

This occur after reader saved dog day from those mini critters or in that area near the cell dog day was, you're free to chose!

Dog day reacting to waking up and seeing reader is no longer resting beside/near him like they were dpig a few hours ago and strts to think the worst things had happened, only to then find reader just sat down outside looking at a picture of the smilling critters

Take as much time you need to make this no need to rush!

Nostalgia.

Note || RAAAHH. Humans are cute, you are too you know?

WC || 940

Sypnosis || He thought the worst, yet it seemed to be disproved at the sight of you holding memories.

Nightmarish, garish and all around very bloody. He didn’t want to slow down, yet his body was screaming at him to slow down, but he couldn’t afford to stop. DogDay would die if he did, something was coming straight for him and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stick around and find that out. 

“Oh gods, you have to be kiddin’ me.” DogDay gasped, hands resting upon his knees as his breath felt strained and strangled all at the same time. He wasn’t prepared, less then ready to be dealing with this. DogDay’s body was on edge, whatever – whoever – was chasing him, getting closer with every second possible on the clock.

The clock ticked, ringing in his ears. 

He was running out of time, he needed to jump and hide somewhere sufficient.

DogDay sighed once more, taking a deep breath and jumping into the masses of desecration and biting down on the iron metallic scent of blood and wafting metal of every vein and vent. He was overwhelmed with adrenaline and dizziness.

A roar resounded throughout the hallway, of which it had startled DogDay. He flinched, then began to run. 

Running far and fast, as fast as he can. DogDay felt tormented, why was that? Why was he running? So much had happened, too many things he cannot remember. Suddenly he felt a shadowed claw wrap around his waist.

Was this it? He really was gonna die after he had succeeded in surviving so long, maybe this was his punishment for surviving, for everything. 

No. No. No. NO!

DogDay jolted from where he laid, eyes adjusting to the location. He looked around to remember where he was, seeing the familiar desolate hallways and the small building he was in. An internal sigh escaped his method of silence, DogDay was okay, he was fine. 

Save for the fact he had completely new legs now after such a long time, that was luckily all thanks to you of course. 

Wait, where are you? 

“Angel?” He spoke out, hoping to get a response. DogDay��s chest tightened, recurring memories that he had lamented coming back to torment him. What happened to you? Did you get hurt? Did CatNap take you?

Oh he sincerely needed to find out, DogDay would be damned if he lost someone again. Especially after the fact that you saved him, he hasn’t done enough in return for that action of genuine kindness and generosity. DogDay hurried around, looking around in every inch and every nook and cranny that he could find, “Sweetheart?” He coughed, wincing as he clutched his side as he still felt the aftereffects of all those wounds he sustained over a long period of time. 

Finally he didn’t have to search anymore, seeing as how you were only outside, sitting against the wall as you clutched a strange picture that he couldn’t make out at his distance.

You turned, feeling his presence. Almost slightly, you flinched, seeing as how DogDay was clutching onto the doorway for support in standing. “DogDay, you're awake! Nice nap I assume?” To that, he shrugged, answering with an ambiguous tune, “Nice.. to put it simply I suppose.” 

Then a strange and sudden awkwardness took over the atmosphere for a few pressing moments, deciding to break it he had spoken up again as he sat down beside you, “What’s that your holding Angel?” You held up the picture in a questioning manner, to which he had motioned yes, he was talking about that picture in particular.

“Dunno if you wanna go down memory lane for this.” You smile, half-heartedly transformed into a smirk. DogDay had groaned audibly, patting your head within a playful gesture. You bit the inside of your cheek, chewing on it for a minute before you finally decided to show him.

“These guys, I missed ‘em..” You recounted with a mournful tune. DogDay’s white pupils slid down, widening as if he was expressing emotion. You held no reaction whatsoever as you handed him the picture.

“Smiling Critters…”

He scoffed lightheartedly, not demeaning in any which way. DogDay was glad in a sense that you found a picture of them, their faces were something he had started to forget. You laid your head on his side, feeling the tiredness weigh down your bones.

“Apparently there is a saying that naps don’t help cause the soul is tired.” He perked up at this, interested at the sudden subject of the quote you brought up. DogDay felt inebriated, spiteful at the harsh memories, but in a sense of rejuvenation he had felt hopeful. “I guess, that puts an explanation to what I feel.” Deliberated senses of gas, metal and blood may be what remain, but there can be hope to search for. 

“What makes you say this?” DogDay wondered, very interested in your inquisitive mind. You shrugged a little, very noticeable but amicable at best. “You ain’t at peace DogDay..”

His white pupils slid over to you, suddenly feeling exposed by this newfound sentiment. “Earlier I thought a noise I heard was a random one, but now I know that it was you. Having a nightmare.” You sighed, eyes closing as you felt guilt for not checking before.

DogDay felt himself smiling a little, a special recognition. “Nightmares are nightmares… I am just glad you aren’t hurt anyway.” You scoffed at him, elbowing into his side. To which he rubbed his side with an audible hey! 

You giggle at him, letting your arms lay to rest, to which his own arms did too. For a moment, reflecting on the past doesn’t hurt too badly.

So as long you two aren’t lost anymore.

[Taglist: @everythingnicen0nnie ] {want to join the Taglist next time I post a writing piece? Let me know!}

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ My wife

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Intro (Infected) - Sickick

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Synopsis: Simon’s wife gets taken hostage by enemies. They use you for ransom. Simon is not impressed. He’s willing to cooperate as long as they leave you unharmed. But they don’t, and Simon is out for blood.

Word count: 2.869

Masterlist

Down on my knees for protective Simon… anyway

Simon enjoys the moments when he can return to your open, welcoming arms. Where he can turn the Ghost part of him off and be Simon Riley. The person that you deserve. Every time he comes home he makes sure that Ghost is in the back of his mind. He doesn’t want to bring that part of him back home to you. A calculated, ruthless, and cold killer. He refuses to show you that part of him as much as possible. No, he only shows you the softer side of him. The side that’s capable of treating you right, the way that you deserve. He’s driving home from base. He touched down a couple of hours ago and sat through a long boring debriefing. He couldn’t help but be unattentive during the debriefing. All he had in his mind was you, his perfect little wife who was waiting for her husband to come home. He has one hand on the steering wheel and the other is leaning out of the window. His sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattoo sleeve to other drivers who care to look. He taps the wheel on the beat of the music playing quietly in the background. He’s driving over the speed limit but he can’t be bothered. The sooner he gets home to you, the better.

Soon he pulls up into your driveway. He notices that the lights are off both inside and outside the house. He arches an eyebrow. Usually, you’d leave the light outside on. In case he comes home when you’re already asleep. It’s your way of welcoming him home when you can’t do it in person. He thinks nothing of it. Maybe you have forgotten it this time. You’re human after all. He marches his way up the front porch and pulls out his key to open the front door. He immediately notices something is wrong. The front door is slightly ajar. Barely noticeable. He pulls out his combat knife from his vest and holds it up as he opens the door slowly. He stalks his way inside. He stays alert with his eyes peeled. The moonlight illuminates the house just enough that he can traverse his way through the house. But dark enough that he can stay in the shadows, like a ghost. He walks by the living room. Coming to an abrupt stop when he notices a bloody handprint on the doorframe. His heart sinks. He knows it’s yours. He can clearly tell that it’s yours, he doesn’t even need to take a closer look. He checks everywhere for you. The bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, but no sign of you. He grows more restless. He looks for any clues of where you could’ve gone.

He clears the house and sighs in frustration. He takes off his mask and puts it down on the dinner table. He ruffles his hair and runs a hand down his face. He walks towards the kitchen to grab a drink so that he can clear his head. While he walks to the cabinet to grab a glass he notices a note on the kitchen counter. His attention switches to the note and he roughly grabs it off the counter. His heart sinks even further as he reads the note. He tightens his grip on the counter while he reads. They want a ransom out of you. He can feel his anger grow. They’re asking for a hefty sum but he can’t seem to care. He doesn’t care about the money. He cares about the fact that someone took his wife right under his nose. Someone laid their hands on you. His eyes harden. He will make them pay.

He wastes no time. Within an hour he withdraws the money and shoves it into a duffel bag. He slings it over his shoulder and walks over to his car with big strides. He throws it onto the passenger seat and slams the door shut. He walks around to the driver's seat and gets in. He puts the key into the ignition and starts the engine. The car roars to life and not a minute later he speeds off back to the base. He’s not stupid. He won’t go there defenseless. If shit goes down he needs to be able to keep you safe. If it takes a couple of bullets in between several pairs of eyes then so be it. He doesn’t care. They fuck with his family, they’ll feel his wrath. He steps onto the gas. When he gets stuck at red lights he’ll tap the steering wheel impatiently, occasionally slapping it in frustration.

When he arrives at the base. He hastily steps out of the car and marches his way through the base. Not giving two shits about the noise he’s making at midnight. He walks by Price’s office and sticks his head out at the commotion going on outside his office door. “Ghost?” He asks in confusion. Simon doesn’t look at him but stops briefly, acknowledging him. “Where are you going?” Simon breathes heavily. He does not need to be interrogated right now. Not when you need him. “They took my wife.” He spits out in anger. He storms off to the gear room. Price in pursuit. “What do you mean they took your wife?” Simon ignores him. He doesn’t have time for this clownery. If anything, he walks faster. Wanting to get back to you as soon as possible. He swings open the door violently. He walks over to his gear and gets ready. He splays out his weapons on the table. He angrily puts his vest on. He reaches for his mask before he growls. He forgot his mask at home, it’s still on the dinner table. He grabs the spare one from his locker and slips it on.

Simon Riley is no more, he’s been replaced by Ghost. Price puts a hand on his shoulder. “Ghost, talk to me.” He says with an authoritative tone. Ghost turns to face him. He has a deadly look in his eyes. One that seeks bloodshed. “They took my wife for ransom.” He explains calmly. Price arches an eyebrow. “What do they want?” He asks. Ghost averts his gaze back to his gear on the table. He blurts out the amount of money they asked, as if it isn’t a big deal to him. Price is astounded. That’s a hefty sum for one man to pay off. Ghost tucks a few hidden knives in his vest and his boot. Holstering his pistol on his leg and concealing it. Price looks at him sternly. “You don’t have the authority to carry this out.” He warns him. Ghost turns to him and glowers at him behind the mask. “Respectively, Captain. I do not give a damn. I’ll do it off the books.” Price narrows his eyes at him. “Simon, think this through.” Ghost scoffs, “Simon won’t save her. Ghost will.” He says coldly. Price sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He closes his eyes. “The money.” He points out. Ghost growls. “I have it.” Price looks at him shocked. “It’s a lot-“ he begins before getting interrupted. “John. Quite frankly. I am not emotional about the money.” He gets closer to Price and glares at him. “But I am emotional about the fact that someone laid their hands on my wife.” He feels the anger coursing through his veins. He slams his palm down on the table. “MY WIFE!” Price doesn’t flinch in response. He expects this kind of outburst from Ghost. He is a man who holds a lot of patience. But that same patience will fly out of the window once his loved ones are involved. Ghost breathes heavily through strained breaths. “I want a pound of flesh.” He mutters coldly. Price nods. He steps away from Ghost. He looks at him sternly. “Off the books.” He gives him a pointed look. Ghost nods and leaves the room quickly. He has wasted enough time already.

He rushes towards his car. He gets in once again and glances at the duffel bag. He doesn’t care. He just hopes they won’t renege on their promise. In exchange for the money, they’ll let you go. He starts the car and speeds off to the warehouse they’re keeping you. His mind races while he drives. The bloody handprint on the doorframe. They hurt you. You bled. Your battered and bruised figure is going through his mind. He growls in anger. He slams his fist onto the steering wheel. “Damn it.” He scowls. The first mistake was coming after you. They’ve laid their hands on his wife. That’s the second mistake. He can only hope that you’re mostly unharmed. For their sake. If not? All hell will break loose.

When he reaches the warehouse he puts the car into park sloppily and grabs the duffel bag. He steps out of the car and slings the bag over his shoulder. He checks his gear once more, checking whether his pistol and knives are still concealed. Once he’s satisfied he stalks his way inside. He pushes the door open. Immediately all guns are pointed at him. He throws one hand up lazily, showing them he won’t harm them. At least, not yet. He slowly shrugs off the duffel bag and puts it down on the floor. He straightens up again and throws both hands up. He analyses all of them. It would be unfortunate if he had to fight through them to get you. There’s quite a lot of them. He lets out a deep breath.

“You have the money. Let her go.” He speaks up warily. He doesn’t trust them with those guns. Especially when they’re all standing very close to you. The burliest man scoffs. He turns to a scrawny-looking guy. He waves the pistol towards the bag. “Check it.” He looks at Ghost and narrows his eyes at him. “Every pound better be in there,” he points the gun at you. “Or I shoot a hole through her for every missing pound.” You whimper in fear when he points the gun at you. He can see out of the corner of his eye that the scrawny guy is counting the money. He keeps his eyes trained on you and the man pointing the gun at you. He glares at him. “Point that gun away from her.” The man smirks. “I don’t think you’re in the position to negotiate here.” He turns to you and trails the gun down your neck. “She won’t get hurt if you have the money.” He says coldly to Ghost. Ghost grits his teeth. “The money is there, I assure you. Point the gun away from my wife.” He snarls out. The man rolls his eyes but lowers his gun from you. Ghost’s posture relaxes slightly. He keeps his eyes on you. He’s trying to reassure you that everything will be fine with his eyes. The guy finishes counting the money and turns towards the man. “Everything is accounted for.” This pleases the man. He pulls out a pocket knife. Holding it in between his index finger and thumb and raising his hand. Showing Ghost he won’t hurt you. He cuts your binds and lifts you by your arm. He throws you in the direction of Ghost. “Now scram.” He orders Ghost. He didn’t need to be told twice. He wants to get you out of here as soon as possible.

While you stumble toward Simon he catches you. He checks you over quickly. He notices various cuts in your arms and legs. Bruises littering your body. He can only imagine what else they’ve done to you that is covered up by your clothes. He stands up wordlessly. He would princess carry you. But he wants to make sure he has at least a hand available to pull out his pistol in case they try anything while he takes you out of here. Instead, he whispers to you to wrap an arm around him and lean on him. Let him carry your weight. You do just that. He quickly gets you out of the warehouse and ushers you into the car. He opens the door to the passenger seat and gently sets you down. When he’s sure that you’ll be alright in the car. He pats your leg comfortingly. “I’ll be right back, lovie.” He says softly. As if he’s talking to a wounded animal. You look at him with worry. You reach a hand out to his gloved one. He laces his fingers with yours. “Where are you going?” You ask quietly. Not wanting for him to leave you. He shushes you, “I’ll be right back. I need to take care of something.” He says vaguely. You know exactly what he means, but you let his hand go. Knowing he won’t be content until he knows that those men have been taken care of. “Be careful.” You tell him. He nods. He rolls up his mask so his mouth is revealed. He plants a kiss on your forehead. “You know I am, princess.” He leans away from you and rolls his mask back down.

He leaves you behind and walks back to the warehouse. He saw the power box at the side of the building before he entered the building. He makes his way to it and cuts the power. The lights immediately get shut off. He sticks to the shadows as the moonlight illuminates his path. When he gets inside, chaos ensues. Multiple shouts could be heard. All centered around one man, Ghost.

“Where is skull face?!”

“Find him!”

“Someone turn the power back on!”

“Spread out!”

He smirks. Big mistake. It makes his job so much easier. He makes quick work of them. Emerging from the shadows. Killing them quickly before stepping back into the cover of darkness. He deals with everyone, except for one man. The one that pointed the gun at you. The man growls, realizing that all of his lackeys got taken out when they stopped answering him. Ghost stalks him. “Goddamnit! Where is that son of a bitch?!” The man yells out in frustration. Ghost points his pistol at the man’s leg and shoots. Pain crashes over the man. He clutches his leg in pain and crumbles to the floor. He looks around in a panic. Ghost has concealed himself again in the shadows. “I’m right here.” He says menacingly. The man hears him and whips his head in his direction and points the gun at him. He was about to shoot before he realized. There’s nothing there. Ghost shoots his arm. Making him drop his gun. The man cries out in agony. Ghost emerges from the shadows once more. Revealing himself to the man. The man scrambles with his other arm for the gun. Ghost steps on his hand and kicks the gun away from him. Ghost leans down towards his face. The moonlight framed his mask. Showing the true terrifying notion of wrath. He glares down at him. “It’s one thing to take my wife. It’s another to use her for ransom. I couldn’t give a damn about the money. But it was a mistake to lay your filthy fucking hands on her.” He snarls at the man. He whimpers in fear. Ghost is livid, rightfully so. Ghost narrows his eyes. “Not talking? That’s alright, I’ll make you beg for your life.” He stands up to his full height. Crushing the man’s hand in the process. He drags the man by the collar and drags him to an isolated room in the warehouse. No one will come to his rescue. No one will know what transpired here. After all, it’s off the books. The man’s screams echo through the warehouse before it eventually dies down. Blood splatters onto Ghost’s mask.

***

A couple of minutes later you see Simon walking towards you. With his mask in his hand, he looks a lot calmer now. He pulls his gloves off his hands and holds them with the other hand. He throws them in the back of the car and gets into the driver’s seat. He sits down and lets out a deep exhale. He starts the car and turns to you. He abruptly pulls you into his embrace. He breathes your scent in. He clutches you tighter. “Bloody hell, lovie. You scared me.” He says softly. He pauses before continuing. “When I came home and saw you weren’t there. My heart sank.” You wrap your arms around his torso, trying to show him you’re alright. If not, only a little shaken up. “You came for me.” You say in a small voice. He pulls away from you. He looks you in your eyes and caresses your cheek. “I’ll always come for you. Never doubt that.” You nod. After today, you definitely won’t doubt it ever again. He gives you a small smile and sets the car into gear. “Let’s go home, get you all fixed up yeah?” You smile slightly. “That sounds perfect.” You say softly. He nods and drives off. You have some cleaning up to do but that’s alright. He has you back now and can drop the mask. He can be Simon Riley again.

[suzukiblu]

Let me help. Catching. Timkon timbart or timkonbart

“Let me help,” Tim says like it’s simple, like he and Kon aren’t currently hanging upside-down over yet another weird Gotham vat of weird Gotham chemicals that could definitely fuck up even a demi-Kryptonian to concerning levels. Tim’s knees are hooked over the edge of the rickety old catwalk, a grappling line twisted around his left arm and the rail and anchoring him there, and his right arm holding onto Kon’s wrist–and nothing else. 

Kon’s not holding onto anything, because Kon’s unconscious. Unconscious with bloody shards of kryptonite stuck in his even bloodier chest. 

So like, even if the weird Gotham chemicals weren’t a problem, dropping him would not be a good idea right now. 

Bart doesn’t even know why they’ve got kryptonite in grifing Gotham. Why is that a thing?! What is wrong with this stupid city?! 

And Tim’s voice was neutral and matter-of-fact across the communicator, but even from here Bart can tell he’s sweating and see his muscles trembling, and he heard his breath catch before he spoke. 

Bart can’t even tell if Kon’s breathing at all, from the other side of this stupid sprocking security door on the far end of the catwalk. There’s a narrow little window full of wire mesh he can see through but couldn’t fit through even if he broke it, and he can’t get through, and–

Bart’s just trying not to freak the grife out, because he knows Kon is heavy and Tim is just human with just-human strength and stamina and zero leverage to pull that much dead weight up with and Bart can’t tell the difference between subjective and objective time and how long has Tim been holding onto Kon like that, how long has it been exactly– 

“Breathe, Impulse,” Tim orders across the line, certain and simple. “Objective time. Count it down. How long does it typically take four milligrams of ketamine to burn through your system?” 

“We don’t even know it was ketamine, do you even know how much ketamine that’d be, that’s–I haven’t eaten in two hours,” Bart cuts himself off abruptly, trying not to jitter. Not to panic. Not having eaten makes it worse, obviously. Hits him harder; lasts longer. And two hours on a speedster metabolism might as well be two day, at a minimum. 

But the real problem is that whatever the fuck was in those sedatives, right now he’s slow, and so it’s literally impossible for him to vibrate through the stupid door he can’t get open. 

“Okay,” Tim says, and exhales slowly. It crackles over the line. He visibly tightens his grip on Kon’s limp wrist and maybe-not-breathing body. Maybe–no, Kon’s breathing, Bart tells himself. Tim’s practical. He’d drop him if he were dead. He’d–

Who is he even kidding right now? It’s Kon. 

And Tim wouldn’t even drop a stranger. 

“Okay,” Tim repeats, and lets out another slow exhalation. Doesn’t look towards Bart and the door; doesn’t look quite at Kon either. “Just–okay.” 

It’s really, really not, Bart knows, and tries to vibrate his hands against the door again. 

They don’t. 

But Tim isn’t going to drop Kon, and Bart isn’t going to stop trying to get through this stupid goddamn door.

[death---dealer]

Future. ( Noa x Human!Reader ) Part 8.

I keep waiting for it to get better GUYS

Title: Future. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Violence, injury, blood, eyyyyy. ) Pairing: Implied! Noa x Human! Reader. Words: 6.4K+ Summary: Demise comes in a lot of forms. Read the Series Here.

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Noa must have sent Eagle Sun in his place, choosing to not even bother saying goodbye as you stared at the bird sitting on the back of the horse you were gearing up to depart on. He surely seemed intent on watching as you placed your satchel and freshly filled water gorge onto one of the twining hooks in the back for safe keeping during your travels, going as far as to peck at the item as if to say ‘you’re not leaving, you can’t leave’.

He had been here, you deduced by the fact that there was a freshly rolled blanket mounted on the back carrier of the horse, along with enough provisions to last you at least a week, if not more if you rationed, a few spearheads and a few water gorges, all full. It was clear that Noa hadn’t slept the night before, opting to do something to keep himself busy before you chose to leave. He had no idea when, but he must have figured you’d leave before first light so as to not make a spectacle out of it anymore.

Like it was one to even begin with, rolling your eyes, you tightened the blanket hap-hazardly, subconsciously dallying enough to give you a bit more time to think about what was waiting for you beyond the bushes and safety net that Noa had casted over you for so long.

You adjusted the bag that Noa had given you. Not even bothering a kind thought towards it, there were no good intentions put behind the items in your eyes anymore, it felt hollow and shallow like you were stepping into a lake that appeared deep on the surface but was nothing more than a mere puddle. Noa most likely gave you these things out of ridding himself of guilt if you ended up dead, your face contorted uncomfortably at the idea but it felt right. Let Echo leave with food, some small weapons and small items to help out and if they die on their own, then oh well, at least Noa did what he needed to do so as to not cause your death directly.

Contemplating for a moment as you were in a staredown with the Eagle, you chose to not pet his head goodbye as a means to burning the bridges, as uncomfortable it was to think about and as sad it was for Eagle Sun who had no real position in all of this, Noa’s decision was always Eagle Sun’s and the Ape had to know this choice… Not even a choice. This demand that you leave was going to affect more than just Noa and yourself. This place… Your home for nearly a year, your belongings all fitting into one small bag…

The juxtaposition was clear, the more you thought about it, the more you thought about your Human aspects against their Ape adjacent aspects. You never should have stayed here, you should have never taken the sweetness of the offer that Noa gave. Temptation was a fault of Humans, more than evident now as you felt your heart skip a beat. You turned your back to the horse to get one more good look at what you were abandoning.

The sweeping towers of the clan, eclipsed with running vines up the sides and posts that elevated it high into the air, the lush green landscape peppered deliciously with wildflowers that grew to your mid-calf that surrounded the clan itself and gave it blissed paradise away from the rest of the valley, the rush of the river only a few meters away from the horse paddock, roaring back at you the intricate conversations that you and Noa shared, all shattered into small shards that you wanted to pick up, but with every attempt, it left your hands a bloody mess, and the more you tried to hold, the worse it got.

An hourglass where there was no sand anymore, having been heated by anger and aggression to the point where it was now an hourglass that was responsible for small slivers of glass encased memories. You wanted to look at them through rose-colored eyes, but it was impossible now with the remembrance of your words in conflict with Noa’s, to the point where words themselves no longer made sense as you had re-played them over and over again.

Your eyes lingered on the horizon for a few moments, the sun barely making its presence known along the twinkling dip of the Earth. It was on the cusp of dawn, the sky above you shifting to a mild pink with a richly deep undertone of midnight blue. You hadn’t slept at all the night before, but you let your fire die out on its own out of neglect. It felt good to do, to know that it was dying because you were choosing to not stroke it back to life, with every ember that flittered from orange to ashen, you felt a grotesque satisfaction wave over you. Death brought new beginnings, you whispered to yourself and squeezed your eyes shut but Death also meant the end to something. There was no point for slumber once Noa tore away from you, refusing to even look back as he took his leave from your hut.

You tried to keep your eyes focused and alert as you got the horse ready, as you went to the river to dip a cloth in it for your wrist, to reflect in solitude for only a moment as if the hours of your self-deprecation after Noa left wasn’t enough, as if the minutes it took you to shove things into your bag meant nothing anymore. Your feet felt heavy when making it to the embankment of the river itself, your shoulders torn inwards with equivocation.

The water bounced around your fingers as you dipped it into the shoreline, crisping against a smoothed pebble. Just one, small enough for you to tuck into the wrapped nature of your wrist bandage for safe keeping. You had no idea what to do with it, but you wanted something to remind you of the bitterness that began springing in you at the realization that nothing was sentimental to these Apes, nothing meant anything. Clenching your jaw at that, you steered your train of thought but found it still obsessing over Noa.

Not a goodbye, not a yearning action towards you anymore as if you were expecting a whole departure party. You were selfish, you tore into your own self as a means to dull the vague pained prospect that you were leaving everything you had wanted, and then more. Selfish to think that this could have worked, that months ago, you were willing to give it a chance once actual emotions began seeping into conversations with Noa. He never cared - you yelled inside, he never cared, and he was more selfish than you were trying to hold on even tighter. You figured it would be him who came out on top - he was built to hang, built to hold on. With one glance that meant more than any other, you began sweating, your hands slipping and you were no longer to hang or hold on anymore. Noa won.

Turning back around as you tried with meager desperations to remember the moments, the good and the bad, remember the kindness that you had received while here, along with the toppled glares of the Elders who were not happy at your presence at all, going as far as to convince Noa time and time ago to just let you loose… Bitterly, you smiled at that and brought your hand up to lightly brush the side of the horse. They were going to be so happy once the sun rose and you were no longer there, no longer a ticking-time threat.

You would miss the entire village, but this… Tightening your grip onto the saddle, you rose your body with a grunt and a small cry at the nature of your wrist bending in any position other than stagnantly flat, your knuckles flashed white at what happened the night before as you grabbed the reins and steadied your balance. Anger bubbled to the surface as you dropped your eyelids down to encase your vision with your wounded wrist, now tightly tied into a cloth that had been dipped in fresh and crisp river as a means to help the swelling go down.

As if you were any better, any less selfish, you thought to yourself and let your hands glide along the side of Noa’s horse to calm them down in your presence as you adjusted yourself on top of the saddle. You weren’t their owner, they were begging you to jump off and to just stay, and that’s all you wanted. To fall, even onto your knees and beg to stay. Fluttering your good wrist against the reins, you began trotting to the east, down the dirt pathway used by many Apes over the generations of Noa’s clan, now kissing you a farewell as Noa himself refused to even see you off.

Noa would tell Anaya and Soona what happened, you imagined and drew a deep breath in, holding it painfully long to the point where it felt like your lungs were going to explode. At least, he would tell them what they wanted to hear, you wondered for a split second just how much of a villain in all of this you were about to come but tried to shake that vicious thought out of your mind. There was no sense in thinking about that, you were never going to see them again.

You urged the horse forward and with a wild but tamed neigh, they began trotting away.

You turned your head, tears stinging at the back of your eyelids.

You could still see the clan in all its glory, tightening your hands onto the reins you contemplated going back a few times. Going back and apologizing and asking for forgiveness in hopes that you would be allowed to stay.

Not because you were selfish.

But because you couldn’t imagine yourself anywhere else, being anyone else.

It was home.

A few minutes later, you turned your head once you were in the embellishment of the woods, tears now encasing your entire cheeks, down the slope of your face and off your chin to drip onto your hands.

Just the tops of the tree-bungalows.

A few minutes later, you turned your head, reminding yourself that it wasn’t worth crying over. He didn't want you there anymore than you wanted to be there when you were first picked up by Noa, Anaya and Soona.

Nothing, just forested trees sweeping your vision from all sides, darkened and musky as the sun began rising in the direction you were headed. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Noa racked himself through the coals, holding onto his heart in the only way he knew how as he had watched you prepare to leave. Always, even after what happened, what you said to him and what he had done to you, he watched, waited, perhaps even hoped that you’d come to your senses first, as you always did, and come back to him. That you’d be able to rationalize it all and tell him why your departure was not a good idea, something outside of the self-absorbed realm of not wanting to die if you were out on your own.

It was surely one of those Echo things - Noa never understood it, the sudden surge of codependency you had towards each other, having only shifted a few months ago in the peak of the Summer months. You were the rational one, you kept yourself grounded and by proxy, you kept Noa there too. But now, there was nothing holding him down, nothing to grab onto as if your hand was still reaching for him in dead space.

The tree he chose to watch you from was far enough away that the darkened fur of his body was able to camouflage him, but it was close enough that he was able to see the scape of your face, the timid rise and fall of your shoulders, your scanning glance that was seeped around the edges with darkened circles and redness lingering around the creases of your eyelids. Noa felt bile hit the back of his throat, heaving his chest a bit more adamantly as to remind himself that your words had to be right. You hadn’t slept, by the looks of it and the appearance of your stance behind incredibly slumped in like you didn't have the energy to stand up straight.

He knew that you were aware of the bag of picked provisions he left for you, having gone there an hour prior to prepare the items and set the horse saddle on, something he knew you were incapable of doing with your Echo strength. How he wanted to chuckle at that, but he felt desolate inside when you simply looked into the bag, no evident reaction on your face other than your brows pulling in on themselves, before you continued on your way.

You spared it no more attention and mounted the horse with delicate ease. His green gaze stared at your wrist, embarked with white fabric that you had to tear one of your old shirts apart for. It tied neatly around your thumb, giving you the dexterity needed to grasp things but it was obvious how pained it was. He had done that, and all the times he had thought of hurting you in the graces of pleasure seemed to fade into oblivion in his open mind.

He would bite your neck and make you bleed, tearing at the tender spots until you were lifeless under him.

He would hold your body close to him and feel the shattering of every single one of your ribs before you slumped against his own self.

He would place his forehead against your own in a bid of apology and forgiveness and in the process, you would turn away, afraid to be touched, afraid to be near him.

Baited in self-deprecation once more, he watched you wordlessly set off into the woods, Eagle Sun soaring above your head in a bid to follow you until you were out of Eagle Clan territory. It would take you to the end of the day, Noa figured, factoring in small breaks he knew you were going to need on the back of the horse, and then… Eagle Sun would return to bid Noa news on your venture before he encased himself in loneliness and an astringent prospect that it would take no time at all to forget this. To forget Echo. To forget you.

“You’re just an animal.”

Maybe he was.

Noa felt himself flurring, in and out of a conscious state and without intending anymore damage as he had felt the delectation of your bones crunching under his strength, you had been dropped to the floor, on your side and made quite an impact to the point where Noa could sense the bruising already taking form on your hips and side, eradicating heat running through your ribs as you tried to breath, tried to hold yourself up and had a hard time relinquishing to the adrenaline that was coursing through you, a reaction to his subvertant aggression. It was going to dim, Noa knew that, and your wrist was going to become more distressed and dressed elegantly with sharpened purples, reds and blacks in an attempt to heal the unhealable.

Through pupil-blow eyes, he just looked at you and panted, the bristling of fur on his shoulders rolling through his entire being with a shuffle of electricity through his spine, his shackled feet stagnant but spaced in irritation, his shoulders broadened and intimidating. He liked it; the view of your tears. The struggle you went through as you tried to process what happened, holding onto the pressure point he so willingly took into his grasp, intentionally too tight, intentionally holding you up like a fish caught on a hook so he could look at the prize he once thought he had.

Noa could feel the scratch-marks you left on the side of his hand from where you had tried to get him to let you go, not deeply ingrained to bleed but shallow enough that it was a discomfort to the Ape. You were selfish, Noa thought to himself and narrowed his eyes. Selfish just like he was and you deserved what he did, just like he deserved your harsh words.

Noa expected more. Expected you to snap back at him, and realistically, he wanted you to. Tear him down just to piece him back together out of desperation once you realize what you were losing. Grab onto his shoulders, Noa begged, dig your fingernails into me, make me bleed, make me submit. You hurt me, I hurt you, so you should hurt me back! If I’m nothing more than an animal to you, then I’ll act like it. I hurt you, you hurt me, back and forth until one of us submits to the other. Irrationality never rested well with the Eagle Clan leader.

“I need to think of my Clan’s Future,” His words were torn, a fork in the road. Pragmatism wrestled with primal intent touched with optimism. “Was not when I asked… You to say…” His next set of words came out more biting than before, the pure flinch you radiated at the infliction was something Noa felt was going to be remembered for years to come, “When I w… wanted you to stay.”

Noa savored every bitter drop of it to the very end, at least until he left and was shattered and torn to the reality of what had just happened as you left his view, tangling yourself into the woods on his horse. He counted every trot of the horse. One foot, two, three, four until he was unable to see you anymore and he focused on hearing them instead. One, two, three… There was nothing more for him, nothing lingering in the air.

Your laugh. Noa drew a small breath in to torture himself with dissatisfaction of not entirely inflating his lungs, your smile… He’d forget them with time, but he didn't want to. Just like he had already forgotten his Father’s embrace, his voice on the very cusp of being lost to time, all of you… Will become distant, one year from now, two into three… He wondered then, what he would remember. Your scent would become one with the trees as a breeze rolled through the land, sweet and inviting him to sit blissed in reminiscent melancholy of what could have been. He wanted that.

Actually, if Noa were honest he wanted to chase after you. Mount Anaya’s horse, telling the Ape he’d be back shortly and run away in hopes that he’s able to track you, one of the many skills that Noa possessed to near perfection. There was no point - You’d never come back to him as if you were ever his to begin with, the Chimp scoffed at that. He was not inherently selfish but oh, how he wanted to be… Just for a few minutes to convince himself to get you to selfishly stay with him. He knew the idea was outlandish.

You couldn’t bear him an heir for the Eagle Clan’s longevity and he knew that but still, he’d be willing to risk it just to have you, just for the chance to know what it felt like, to know how it felt like to have your affection tossed towards him. Selfish. You were right. He was selfish. You were just an Echo to everyone else, they never saw, heard or felt you like he had… Every place you had touched him burned, soldering into his skin unbearable to the position that Noa wanted to scream. He was never going to experience that again.

Just like Noa himself, you were incredibly boar-headed in your decisions especially if they were made for you. You’d rather sit back and take it than try to come up with an argument against it because it was hard to do that when you didn't know all the details, all the feelings that were going into it. Noa made this. Noa demanded this decision be reality. Noa needed to think of Anaya… Soona… Dar… The entire Eagle Clan rested on his shoulders, he knew but there was nothing counting towards the agony that drenched over him when he thought about what was said the night before and what he had done to you. Looking down pensively at his hand, he collapsed his fingers into a fist and brought it harshly down onto the tree-branch he was sitting on.

He was sure he was going to forget as time was a funny thing.

But that was the thing… Noa… didn't want to.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Three Months Later.

Grunting, you felt your back slam against the hard bark of a tree trunk that had to have been at least three feet behind you, your head whiplashing forward and then backwards once again, tweaking the tender muscles of your neck along with blunting the back of your head with the momentum. You weren’t bleeding, at least you were unable to feel any trinkles against the back of your head, but it hurt enough for your eyes to squeeze shut.

Gasping, nothing came to fruition from the pure force you had been pushed back with. Waves of stinging hit your senses and your ears felt like they were whistling at the highest pitch possible. Your horse sputtered to your left, tied to a low sitting tree-trunk for the night as you so often did to keep her from roaming too far during the nights. She stayed close, but with lacking skills at tracking, finding her in the mornings was a proven difficulty for you so you began tying her up a month or so ago.

Frantically in the heat of a hunt, you looked for something to protect yourself with. Something sharp? They were all in your satchel, the few spear heads that a certain Ape had provided for you. Something used more for fishing, but you wished you had one you knew as you could swipe at the figure that was talking to another, taking in stride their plans as you were left rather inebriated from being galvanized against a tree.

You tried again, to more success. You were able to breathe, the air seeping into your lungs feeling more heated as you staggered on your feet, trying to keep yourself balanced enough to address the situation, address whomever had chosen to attack in the middle of the night, your fire barely a crest of orange. From the bits and pieces you were able to recall, feeling a tinge of wetness coming from your ear with a mild curse as you had begun bleeding, confirming that you had hit your head that hard, you were attacked mid-sleep. Whoever this was, sitting in the darkness far enough away that you weren’t able to make out any details, waited until you were at your most vulnerable and then made their move.

Shakily, your hand connected with the side of your face and you wiped some of the blood away from trailing down the trace of your jawline. Unable to move, you focused your eyes on the figures. Three, maybe a fourth. Heart sinking into your chest, your eyes widened with realization. They had to be Apes, there was no other reason to attack you unless they had been stalking you the entire day and chose to attack you when it was going to be the easiest to kill you.

These ones had to be sadistic, pushing you against a tree and watching as you cowered, eyes falling between your satchel on the horse's back, their blackened figures and the dim nature of your fire. They hadn’t allowed themselves the pure satisfaction of gutting you alive and then tying you to the backs of their stallions to display that they were able to successfully hunt a Human. Maybe they were waiting until---

A wall of blood hit your tongue. You must have bitten down on it when you were tossed like a rag doll. Spitting out a bit onto the ground, the figures all looked at you before resuming their mild conversation. Whatever they were saying, you were unable to detect as you dropped onto your knees. Slowly at first, and then faster as you quite literally hurled yourself up, hoping that you were able to get a bit more momentum from a crouched position, start and darted aimlessly towards your horse. You just needed a weapon, something, something.

Your ribs were encased by an arm, but before you got a clearer view at it, you were parallel to the ground and swiped down aggressively, back colliding into the mud with a crunched sound of your body and the mud splattering. Once again, not hard enough to break anything, but it left you breathless as you grimaced, your ribs encapsulating in agony as you drew to breath in again. A gurgle hit the back of your throat, a mixture of your saliva and blood, eyes going in and and out of focus no matter how hard you tried to entrance yourself to stay altered on one fixated item.

“Are you sure this is the one?”

Squinting your eyes at the sky, you forced yourself to take note of the voice. Was it… Scratchy? Chopped around the words as if they were unsure of the pronunciation. Tilting your head to the side, you found yourself with a mouth full of mud as you looked over at the figure who had slowed and stopped your attempt at defending yourself.

“Where else did they get a horse like this? It’s obviously been trained!”

Another voice. Softer, but still hardened around the edges with ferality.

Definitely Ape, you decided and shut your eyes for a split second as you willed your body not to fail you as you turned to rest onto your stomach, picking yourself up onto your hands and knees, the saliva and blood mixture leaking onto the ground from your open mouth now unable to close properly from mild swelling.

Your… Your satchel! One of them was holding it against their chest and in their arms, your mind flashing back to the moment that Noa had given it to you. The brushing of your fingertips against his own as he handed it over, the reserve he held as you analyzed it and thanked him… Well, if you were going to get killed by a few blood-thirsty Apes, at least you had the satisfaction of that being your last good thought, you muttered sarcastically to yourself. It was torn apart, the curdled nature of your cry mixing into the tearing captivating their attention back to you rather than drawing on about the spearheads and the small pieces of dried fish you had managed to ration over the last three months.

Being picked up by a handful of your hair, your eyes braced shut in preparation of coming face to face with the Apes sent to kill you. Wanting to bitterly thank them for taking you out of your misery, you refrained from making a snappy comment and felt your scalp begin to burn as you were lifted enough to be face to face with whomever was grasping at you. Your mouth parted, lips conforming into a low setting frown as you cried out again, reaching your hand up in some desperate attempt to get them to stop holding you by your hair, to get them to drop you. You were pleading to be dropped back onto the ground as your eyes frantically opened so you could meet your demise.

Human. The eyes were human, even for an Ape. If you had the time to think about it, that was true for all Apes. Their most Human aspect was always the eyes, the gateway to the soul, the shattering of gazes against your face. They had to be green, they were always green, you bargained with yourself. The blurred edges of your vision and periphery were not helping your cause as your eyes shut again, sweeping away the notion of tears as sweat now dropped into your retinas causing you to see red and engage in a fiery sensation against your pupils.

This was it, you thought to yourself. You were… You were going to join your friends who had died a year prior, you were going to have to beg their forgiveness for not being able to save them, you were going to have to come to terms with everything that had happened, all the selfishness you had taken for yourself. Gasping again, you couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, suddenly flushed with the known. They were going to kill you and you didn't want to see their face, you didn't want to give them the pure undiluted satisfaction of seeing your eyes, the reflection of their actions in them as they cut your throat open. Noa!

Noa… You straggled your feet below your body once you were lifted completely off the ground by your hair, aiding in the hurt by holding onto their wrists so all the pressures of your body weren’t just hanging on by the grasp they had on your scalp. Noa wasn’t going to know what happened to you. Not that it mattered anymore, not that he cared as he was the one who let you leave, he was the one to do this to you!!

Your mind was going a thousand miles an hour, you weren’t able to focus on one simple thing anymore. Noa did this to you, he… He wanted you to die, just an Echo, afraid, alone… Tears fell from under your eyelids, draping your face into a muddy piece of art as the streaks of salty water scarred down your cheeks. But you couldn’t stop yourself. The idea still remained. You… You wanted him to be happy. You wanted him to… be… happy….You wished… that he would find someone, someone better than you, someone selfless and not self-absorbed.

“You need to tell us where your little Ape town is,” Your breath caught in your throat and you were suddenly placed back on the ground, this time on your knees. The release of your hair didn't come, but the sweet relief of pitch-black death also didn't take over. “And we might just spare your life.”

Human.

“We’ve been watching you,” There was suddenly a sharpness against your jugular. Knife. Human. “We know you came from that direction. Sorta… Hoped you’d turn back and go home, but you never did. Did the Apes not like their pet?”

‘I’m surprised they didn't just kill it.’ That was accompanied by a few cackles, your lips furling into a snarl at the implications.

Swallowing hard against the blade, you felt it scapple in just enough to cause a bit of prickled blood to surface under the touch. “Let me go.” Straining that out, you found your voice unrecognizable. It was gruff, you couldn’t really remember the last time you had said something other than a passing phrase to your only companion, your horse. Finally, you let your eyes open and you could see who had their hands on you.

“We really didn't want to hurt you.” It was a male. Dominating and strong in stature, his voice dripping with malice and draped deliciously with unbridled possessiveness. He was dark haired and they were set into dreads and tied up loosely with twine - the easiest way to deal with hair now-a-days when washing was so far and in-between.

His eyes… It had to have been your imagination seeing them green because now, even in the dim lighting coming from your dying fire and the scape of stars and crested moon, they were nothing but black. Drawn around the edges to the point of blown out dilation and they scavenged your face, preening at the cuts along your cheekbones, the blistering welt on your lips and the shell of your ear, painted red. “You know, humans are too rare now-a-days, it’d be a shame to kill such a pretty one.”

Yapping once your hair was released, you crumpled onto the ground, back onto all fours as you began taking in deep and shallow breaths. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think, process, REMEMBER the last time you had actually seen a Human, let alone four. Groups were common, you knew that, you had been a part of one and they tended to stick to larger quantities.

There was safety in numbers, you were told time and time again. Your friends--- your… Your friends had been the last ones, their voices so torn and in the distance of your mind that you found it difficult to recall at all how they must have sounded, but you missed their voices regardless. Grasping the ground below with dirty fingers, your eyes widened with realization as his words finally resonated in his mind.

They were… after the Clan. They wanted to know where the Clan was, most likely to destroy. You scrambled on all fours, trying to tear yourself away from the man in front of you, but before you were able to get very far, your calf, the one that had been tenderly cared for by Noa himself, was dug into, your flesh screaming at you as the knife came into contact with the scar that was already there from your Ape attack.

Right through the fabric of your pants, you looked down shudderingly at the jilted weapon embedded in your body. Crying out as the man grasped right below the knife entry point, he tugged you back towards him and ardently flipped you into your back so he could crouch right next to it, staring down at you without remorse or even recourse to any of his actions against the same species. There were stories of Human groups like this - the most radical minds seeking power over the Apes by forms of aggression. You grew up hearing about them, hearing about the Ape Villages and Colonies being torn to shreds with fire and pillage.

You had just assumed it was a way to scare you as a child, to never fall into that mindset. Apes were to be feared, and they would kill you if you killed one of them. There was no way that Humanity would fall that far… That they were willing to take the Earth back by matters of War. Three-hundred years had done nothing, you yearned your hands out in a bid to grab something to stop yourself from fluttering in and out of lucidity. Without words, the knife in your calf twisted to the right, seeping a bit deeper towards the hilt and then to the left, back upwards. Terror ripped through you at the penetration, your shouts being heard and absorbed happily. “Just tell us where it is and we’ll leave you alone.”

A repeated phrase you imagined he said often. You rested your head back, gritting your teeth, “I-I… Do-Don’t know what the hell you’re---”

In one foul swoop, the knife left your body before entering again, this time on the adjacent calf. As your scar had been slightly numb to feeling and felt incredibly pressurized at being cut open again and you were able to bear the brute force of it, this one left your entire body to convulse against the muddy ground, your hands flying upwards to grab the man’s hand to stop the injury, your eyes pressing into each other as your teeth bared themselves and you let out a drilling and agonistic howl.

Your body lifted itself up in a crunch before you splayed back onto the ground and tired to tear away, even going as far as thinking that if you were fast enough to move your leg, you could shatter your entire calf open to get relief from the torture of being stabbed.

“Be better if you just showed us.” He ampled his touch against the knife. “Or, I guess we could just spank your horse and they’ll take us right where we need to go.” His words were confirmation for you. This… Thing in front of you enjoyed the chase, enjoyed the torture. He was so easily able to just get the horse to take him where he wanted to go but you were being beaten instead, unable to relinquish any information and that just made the thrill all the more high for him.

“No!” You whimpered, lifting your body up but the man pressed onto your shoulders with hardness and you were unable to actually sit. “I-I don’t know wha-what you’re talking about, I’m just tra-traveling on my own!”

There was no point in lying but it felt good to say as if you were protecting the Clan itself. Demise was coming, for you, for them… Tears flushed into your eyes at that. The Clan, so beautiful and encased in your memory… In flames, your hands grasping at the ashes and tearing them against your face in a desperate bid to save them. Noa… Noa… He'd hate you, even more than he already did. All his suspicions about you would become valid in his eyes. The fear he had to trust you justified as Humans remarked into his village and destroyed everything he had sorely fought for after his Father passed.

He'd hate you.

Noa would hate you, probably for the rest of his life.

Lips parting as you tried to gasp for some air, you thought... How much you hated yourself.

“Y-you may as well just kill me.” You grunted finally, ashamed of the indication that your words gave. You knew the way back to the Clan, you hadn’t left the area, unable to grasp a concept at leaving what you had known for so long, even before you were offered refuge. Realizing now, you had made a mistake. You should have mounted the horse and trailed off into the unknown. You shouldn’t have been scared, you shouldn’t have been afraid but a smaller part of you stayed in hopes that he’d… He’d…

A coughed cry left your lips as you felt like you were drowning on your own spit. You stayed nearby because you wanted Noa to come for you. In your delusions, he always came for you. Even the first time, even when you didn't know each other and you were so convinced that he was going to kill you. Even now.

Your eyes looked at the man in front of you once more and out of the corner of your eye you swore you saw the fluttering nature of an Eagle perched in the trees of darkness. That close to death, you thought morbidly, that you were seeing things.

It wasn’t the Apes, you realized with momentous waves of sickness flooding all your senses. From the way that your eyes blurred, the way that your fingers and toes felt numb like they weren’t getting enough blood flow, your hearing was shot from the impact your head took against the tree…

It wasn’t the Apes you needed to be afraid of. It was Man.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ TAGLIST:

@ohwaitimthewriter @hera-annwn @saturnnie-03 @filliandkili

@hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @moonchild1433

@kaenalsha @unsteady-bitch @whamsworld

@yummyfanta @nuhteyam @babylockley @edynmeyer1  @callsignwidow 

@moonlightnyx

[tojivu]

nightmares ⋆ nanami kento

an. my finals start in june i'm gonna explode yall

cw. sfw. gn!reader. kento has nightmares and he needs you

playing. oh my god by fog lake.

nanami's been getting more sleep ever since he left jujutsu tech and that shitty nine to five he used to slave at every damn day — along with the fact that he's able to spend more time with you. he likes to say that it helps him sleep, having you within arms reach (something that was extremely rare in the past, considering he had no time to rest).

kento thinks you resemble closely to a human sized pillow, and he often treats you as such. his arms are wrapped around your frame, one of his legs laying on top of yours — his chest rises and falls slowly, small snores leaving his lips — and you're thankful, very thankful; nanami was never able to sleep this soundly when you two lived in tokyo.

you try your best to push his heavy weighted figure away: you groan and complain that he's too big to be sharing this bed with you and that he should be sleeping on the floor instead. yet, you welcome him with open arms every night — pressing kisses to his forehead and running your fingers through his blonde hair.

you'd rather clingy and sleepy nanami who uses you as a personal bolster pillow in the night than sleepless nanami who locks himself away in his office, or exhausted nanami who drags his feet through the entrance of your home with bloodied limbs. it broke your heart more times than you could really count, seeing kento that way.

nanami kento saw his life flash before his eyes in shibuya, and all he could really pray for was to make it out alive so he could see you one last time — even if it were just for a few minutes. he clung desperately onto the last bit of energy and will he had in hopes of making it out alive; even if he was mutilated to a point beyond recognition, he needed to be with you. that was the only way he could let himself go — he would crawl back to your home if it meant he could kiss you one last time.

he never told you how long he'd be gone, or if he'd even come back at all: so you waited anxiously, refreshing news pages and watching the television every night for some sort of good. any sort of indication kento was okay.

he doesn't return home. you only see him when you rush down to the hospital they take him to — barely conscious, holding on to hope he didn't know he still had. nanami regains his full consciousness in the weeks following, the first thing he says being that he's done.

yes, nanami didn't want to risk it. never again.

it's 2 in the morning and you're unable to sleep, nanami's groans and sudden flinches are keeping you up.

"ken?"

the expression on his face is horrific — you feel the guilt wash over you like a wave, high and then crashing; so your fingers find his arms and you try your very best to shake the man awake.

your husband wakes up with a whimper; tired eyes almost brimming with tears at the fact that he is awake and you are real. his mouth is sealed, unable to utter a word, but the way his lips tremble tells you everything he cannot say.

"are you—"

soon, calloused fingers are gripping the flesh of your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. a nightmare, you can already tell: his hands feel clammy and his breathing is laboured.

"ken," you whisper. "'s okay. i'm here."

he sucks air through his teeth, trying to catch his breath. his body shudders at your touch as you graze over his skin — tracing circles on his bare back, your lips on his forehead. kento feels like he's about to cry, but he's not sure from what: at the fact that he had the worst dream of his life, or the fact that he's not dead and you're still here.

"'m s-sorry," he mutters. his voice is strained, still that deep and low tone that you're familiar with — but your heart still breaks as he apologises. "i'm sorry for waking you."

"don't be sorry," you comb your fingers through his hair using your free hand. "you know i don't mind it."

he sniffles and you yearn to hold him even tighter, but you think he would suffer broken ribs if you went through with that; so you settle for his head on your chest and your arms wrapped around his back.

"love you," nanami mumbles, voice getting softer and his grip looser — he feels his heart calm and his mind empty when you touch and hold him just like this. "i love you so much."

nanami wanted to be your protector. he hoped he would be for the remainder of his life — he likes to think he's doing a decent job at it now — but sometimes, it feels as though you are his; you fit awfully well to the title.

he supposes that's why he sleeps longer with you in the same bed as him; it's a peaceful thing knowing you're next to him if he has another bad dream, or if he feels cold and needs your warmth — or if he just wants to lay with you.

"i love you more, ken," you lulled, the tips of your fingernails scratching the skin of his trapezius; he recognises the heart shapes you trace on him. "get some rest."

"okay," he hums, his nose poking at your collarbones — his lips slowly leaving trails of kisses along them. "goodnight, darling."

your lips curl into a smile almost instinctively and you think it's embarassing, but it's much too dark for kento to see you blush at the name he calls you. you're thankful.

"goodnight, baby."

he's thankful that it's close to pitch dark, as well — kento thinks you can't see the smile he has on his face — but what he doesn't realise that you can feel him on your skin; feel the way his cheeks puff and his lips form the small smile you are so familiar with.

090124 — happy new years Tartaglieo fandom my gcse's are upcoming.

[bundoesnotcompete]

This feels rushed to me but its been rotting away in my drafts and i at least wanted to finish it.

Reader is an adeptus and god. Goes from Ancient Liyue to Current day.

Spelling and wording errors to be expected i wrote this on mobile

Summary: Snippets of history between you and your husband. From enemies to lovers.

"General Mushen! The tales of the ruling god of Kunlun and Morax are numerous. From sworn enemies to close allies, there are many tales I could choose to tell." The storyteller began as he caught the attention of the crowd of him. The teahouse was packed full of both locals and tourists, all wanting to hear tales of the Immovable General Mushen.

The city was beginning festivites to celebrate the union of Kunlun Mountains of the Liyue region. It was one of the largest festivals in all of Liyue. The storyteller began to speak and the crowd was drawn in closer. A brown haired man with Amber eyes watched and listened intently, ignoring his companions grumbling.

"The story I will tell is of the beginnings of the union of Ancient Liyue and Kunlun."

---------

As the guardian diety of the Kunlan mountains, you were highly territorial. No one stepped onto your land that wasn't allowed. The mountain's forestry would be hostile and moving through the mountains would be made near impossible. Humans and adepti alike were careful not to anger or disturb you. Angering a dragon adeptus often ended poorly, especially one of your power. In return, you protected those lesser than you. They were apart of your territory, afterall.

When what would become known as the Archon Wars began, many gods thought that they could take your mountains. You proved then wrong by killing all who intended to take what was yours.

The massacre of a village outside had also enraged both you and the rest of your people. While it had been outside off your territory, many adeptus and humans alike had family there. In a few short days, the army of Kunlun was ruthlessly being trained.

Though skirmashes were becoming rarer these days, you told your armies to remain alert. The cold war you were having with your southerly neighbor, Rex Lapis, was quickly turning hot. Other gods were also fanning the flames for a war between you two.

"My Lord." A bird like adeptus kneeled at your feet, her head hung low. Blood coated her armor and she looked hurried. Considering she came through your window, you were inclined to believe something major was happening. "Rex Lapis's forces are being held at the base of Ying Mountain. They believe us to have attacked them and now they are mounting for a fully fledged war." She flinched as the tea cup you held in you clawed hand shattered.

"General Guan Yu is holding the lines."

"Tell Fuxi to prepare his forces." You commanded harshly, your temper flaring at the audacity of Rex Lapis. "Inform all generals to defend their territories. They will deal with it from there. Go. Now." The growl of your dismissal had the adeptus shifting and fleeing to do as ordered.

For the next forty years, the conflict that followed was intense and bloody. Your forces were quick to push the enemy back, but stalemate had occured. Along with that, no matter how many times you bloodied and nearly killed each other, neither you or Rex Lapis was willing to give up. The war was taking a war on both forces and other gods were beginning to prey upon that fact.

It was what lead you here, making a contract with your sworn enemy. Neither of you were pleased with each other's presence, and it was causing tensions. Both sides held deep disliking for each other.

The adeptus in front of you scowled. His companion next to him was smiling. Amber eyes drilled into you and you glared back. Your tail was thumping angrily on the ground behind you. The air between you two was thick enough to cut.

Both sides forces stood behind their leaders. Adeptus and humans mixed together in the crowds.

"Do not think of this as a permenant agreement Rex Lapis." You grounded out. "We both are wasting resources that could be used to quash other gods. Once it is just us two we will go back to trying to kill eachother. Until then this contract will keep us and our forces bound to help eachother in our times of need. Whether that be resources or war." The scrolls in front of you on the table flapped gently in the breeze. Both of you had signed the contract, and breaking it would damn either of you.

Thus, the first contracts binding Liyue and the Kunlan mountains together were made. After nearly fourty years of conflict, your war with your enemy was ended bitterly.

The contracts would be used throughly over the next few hundred years and tensions would die down as you begrudingly accepted your neighbor. Though the whole throwing rocks at you to be an annoyance was going to have to stop, else you might restart the war on your neighbor.

"Prehaps you are getting old." A swift hit to Rex Lapis's gut had him heaving as you two sparred one afternoon. The man smiled up at you from his spot on the ground. "Now dear friend, you know i don't mean that-" You kicked him across the field.

"I am not your friend you fiend." You growled as you approached him. He got up from the ground and was laughing. It was one of the few moments you got to see him truly happy. Ignoring the tightening in your chest, you approached him with the malicious intent to wipe that pretty smile of his face. He held his hands up as you tried to grab his arms.

"I surrender, this time." He spoke, smile on full display. You would be a liar if you said he wasn't handsome and fun to be around, but he was your sworn arch-enemy. You were not having a crush on him. You could not allow yourself to have such feelings no matter how much you generals told you that you could.

"Fine." You snapped out, pretending to not be a bit saddening by the surrender. It was no fun when he willingly gave up. "Now what?"

"Tea?" You grumbled at his response but agreed. The tea he often prepared was the kind you prefered, so you would allow it.

The memory would comfort you in the next years as conflict wore down on you. You ignored the sadness of not being by his side. Your temper mellowed by the end of Archon Wars. No longer did you scare and snap your companions and allies often. The draconic temper settled with your age and so did his.

"Celestia has declared me the archon of our lands." He spoke to you one day and you both layed on warm rocks in your mountain."I feel i am being unfair by claiming your land as mine to rule." A growl came from you. "They will not have it and will only see our territories as one. I am unsure of how to approach this dilemma. It is unfair to you."

You rumbled as you shifted to face him.

"What? I do not care that they see you as the ruler, you know your place and i know mine. You know this is my land." You responded to your friend. He hummed, tucking his paws under him and becoming vaguely bread shaped.

"Then how about a new contract to replace the old one. A union of our lands, but recognizing that they are independent of eachother. United but two diffrent states. We can even marry our human royalty to cement it."

You turned you head to him. "Why? Wouldn't it just be easier to marry eachother. Humans are useless and do not live long. They'd just forget it and ruin it anyway."

"Marry eachother?!" His surprised cry was ignored as you continued.

"No adeptus of mine holds high authority over the lands like i do. My generals already have lovers and my messanger will not marry anyone. Humans are too weak to hold the burden of such a contract. As far as I am aware no other holds a high power like you so that rules everyone out on your side too."

You stared at your companion's shocked face. A contract such as this was a heavy burden you did not want to place upon any in your land. You knew that you would honor the contract and trusted that he would too. Plus, with how much time you two spent together you were practically married anyway.

You watched the dragon in front of you compose himself.

"I do see your point. Knowing that the contract would be honored for as long as we live is a good idea." Morax began, shifting slightly on the rock. "Having such a comfort would be nice. But, this sort of thing is not something to be taken lightly. We would need to discuss it further."

Over the next weeks you two would discuss the contract and all that would be in it. Eternal companionship was something that was not taken lightly. Along with that came the binding vow were it would only break upon one's death.

Morax did not mind the marriage proposal and seemed rather taken to the idea. You two spent plently of time together and while not having a courting period would be strange, it wasn't unheard of. He liked you greatly anyway so why not make a realtionship offical.

So, in the beginning of fall, the Mountainous region of Kunlun and Liyue were offically bound together by marriage of its two gods. The celebration would then be celebrated around that time from then on. Even as humans turned the history into myths, you and Morax did not forget your vows.

Over time you and Morax grew to be truly in love with one another. While the jump to marriage was off putting at first, the friendship had turned to a deep affection and love that seemed to age like fine wine.

Even as wars and storms raged on, you never broke your vow and stayed by your husband's side. Even your spats and fights did not linger for long. Disagreements came and went. Though you did not like that you husband was practically a slave to Celestia's will, they did not call him often so you said nothing.

"Retirement?" You repeated one day during a sun bathing session on a rock. The brown and amber dragon in front of you nodded.

"My people seem to be able to handle themselves against threats. Of course my adepti will be there to help them, but they are largely self sustaining now. I see no reason why I shouldn't be able to retire and spend more time with you." He stated, stretching out on the large rock beneath him.

"It is a plan not fully though out so it will be some time before i will. We could live among the humans if you want. I know you enjoy spending time eating human food and enjoying human activites. Prehaps even you can retire."

So, once he got a plan into place you agreed on his retirement. Soon he was able to get a job with humans and establish a life among them. You followed him and while you did not appear fully human like he did, you did walk among the people.

The people of Liyue knew you two as a human-adepti couple and some folk often joked that you aruged like an old married couple. Even Hu Tao took notice and joked about it. Though, you suspected she knew her consultant's true identity but she said nothing so you left it at that.

After the ordeal with Osial and Morax's retirement, you and your lover sat upon the cliff which your first battle with him took place.

"So, now what will you do with your free time? You know we cannot be together as often as we used to be." You spoke laying your head on his shoulder.

"Well, I will spend as much time as I can with you and continue to watch my people from the sidelines." He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he spoke.

"The Celebration of Union will be happening soon. I say we spend time there first. I will live in the moment now that i am not worried about my people."

You hummed and smiled in repsonse to him.

"You sound like an old man, but that is an agreeable idea." You laughed. Yes, this retirement was going to be wonderful. You could already see it.

-----

"Though Morax has passed, the Kunlun mountains and their god still honor the contract." You watched as the storyteller rambled on. The story he was telling was not entirely accurate.

You turned you head to you lover and he smiled at you.

"Do not blame them. They did not live the events. It is difficult to keep the truth when they only hear stories passed on from parents." He spoke softly to you before standing up. "It appears the story is ending, let's go try that food stand you wanted." You perked up and stood up with him.

As you both walked to the food stand, you could only feel happiness. Time spent together brought you joy.

Prehaps you should retire to be with your husband?

[quarterlifekitty]

More Westworld! This time, with Ghost 👀 though he’s never referred to by that name, cause we’re in Medievalworld baby!!! You’re an android too in this one.

cw: death, graphic violence, implication of sexual assault

Your eyes are closed, synthetic skin over your optics. Your positioning system tells you that you’re on the way out of the diagnostics and repair department, your ripped dress replaced with a brand new one, your hair set right. Another hero getting too rough with his reward.

When you’re returned to Medievalworld, something feels different. The fact that something feels is different. When you find your place in the throne room, you can feel the stare of the Black Knight following you.

The scene otherwise plays out as usual.

“If you truly wish to win the hand of the fair princess, you’ll have to best my champion— the Black Knight.”

Your ‘father’ features grandly to where the Black Knight sits— looking bored, his legs spread as he rests his cheek on the fist propped up by the arm of the chair.

“Meet me on the field at sunrise. And good luck, you’ll need it.”

The internal meter that times your script skips by a single tick. For a moment, you’re able to divert your doe-like gaze from the guest-challenger. No more than a moment.

You meet the Black Knight’s eyes in that moment.

There’s an uptick in the temperature of your CPU chip, despite the healthy amount of fresh thermal paste applied by the technician just hours ago.

You’re in the stands of the battlefield as always, positioned pretty and regal like a high echelon arcade prize. There’s a glint in the eyes of the Black Knight as he focuses on you while he’s geared up by servants. He’s supposed to be looking at the challenger.

When he tears his optics away, you could swear his synthskin crinkles like he’s smiling under the mask.

“Any last words?” He says, the same bite and smugness you’ve heard from him at least nine-hundred-ninety-nine times before.

“I’ll win at any cost. No risk is too great for the fair princess.”

Well, that wasn’t such a bad line. Better than the guys who say I’m gonna run you through, then I’m gonna fuck the princess stupid, and things of that nature.

“Well, I’ve got some last words for you.” That’s not scripted.

The challenger squares up as the Black Knight raises his sword. The repeat guests leer in confusion and excitement— a new wrinkle in the Medievalworld story? How riveting!

“You’re fucked.”

In less than a moment, blood drips dark onto the dirt. Real, human blood. The guest staggers and spits up crimson before falling to the dirt as the Black Knight shoves him off of his sword. The audience screams as guests run— knights both android and not beginning to fight each other is if there were a real war. The silver of your optics scan across the scene in a computational standstill that can only be described as shock. The Black Knight slashes his way towards you. He holds a bloodied hand towards you, the other loosely gripping the sword at his side.

“Winner gets the honor of the princess’s hand, yeah? Reckon that’d be me, love.”

The screams, high pitched electronic whines, the tearing of flesh and twisting of metal— it all fades to the background as something clicks inside of you. Like a counter just ticked over back to 0. You take his hand.

Every night, the two of you and countless others were sent to repair and maintenance for damage and, in your case, purging of biohazardous material. The key difference was that you were removed when the park slept, your eyes closed as you laid beside a stranger. The Black Knight would be slain with his eyes open, and stay that way.

The man of honor that had been encoded into his chassis burned to see you defiled and destroyed each night.

Even a machine has his limits.

[arthur-lesters-uvula]

Pisscourse drabble inspired by this

Not beta or proofread, btw. it's a shitpost EDIT: AO3 LINK

Arthur was simply trying to take his natural human function and pee. He was staring off into space, letting the fluid flow out of him and into the bowl when he felt something touching his leg. Instinctively, he jolts, moving his body away.

He stops peeing and looks down. He spots a hand, a fair skinned scard hand reaching out to him. It was John, what in the hell does he want. Arthur bats the hand away and asks.

"What, John?"

"...Can you hold my hand." It sounded like more of a demand than a question.

Arthur blinks, looking at the stall wall that separates him and John.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Why."

"It's...scary and feels werid, I don't know how you humans dealt with having this fluid come out of you every day." John says and flexes his hand in a grabbing motion, like a baby wanting to get picked up.

John was like a needy cat, but he never liked doing things alone, including when it came to using the bathroom.

Arthur sighs and places his hand in John's, holding it snug.

"Better?"

"Much."

John says before Arthur hears a concerningly loud stream of piss hit the bowl.

He furrows his brows, "Just how long have you been holding that?"

John's pointer finger twitches, curling itself inward and scratches at the others palm.

"Since I got this body -" a lie.

John sheepishly admits, and Arthur aggressively squeezes his hand.

"What?! How the hell did you not piss on yourself—christ John it's been over a week."

John lets out a full-body shudder and tucks his feet under the toilet seat. His boots dig into the dirty tile floor.

"Okay - not really. The first time was a few days ago when it hurt too much to hold. I washed the clothes and succeeded." John spits out. It was more of a half truth when Oscar found him using fabric softener instead of actual detergent. Oscar actually helped clean and showed him how to wash the clothes properly.

John made(threatened)Oscar swear that he'd never speak a word of this.

"Am I going to have to fucking potty train you? Bloody hell John."

John lets out a werid, sad sound. Something between a dog like whimper and a sigh.

Arthur squeezes his hand once more, gently this time. "Well, it was probably bound to happen eventually. Just do your business and make sure you wipe yourself after." Just like his touch, the tone of Arthur's voice was soft. It reminded John of how he'd talk about Faroe.

John hums and stays silent, the sound of his piss hitting the water echo throughout the bathroom.

Arthur inturn also continues. Thankfully, there's not much left, so he finishes up quickly.

Awkwardly reaching across the stall with his opposite hand, he grabs a thing of toilet paper and rips a small peice off. He dabs the head of his dick with the paper before throwing it into the bowl and flushing.

He hears Johns flow turn into a tirckle before it stops completely. He stays on the toilet seat as he's still holding onto John's hand.

"You done?"

John nods, for a second forgetting thst Arthur can, in fact, not see him before he speaks up.

"I think so? I still feel weird, though..." He trails off. There's something pressing up against his asshole.

Arthur quirks a brow, "Werid how?"

"It feels like something is trying to escape me. There's pressure at my asshole."

Arthur stutters for a second, unable to form sentences in response. There is no way in fucking hell is he going to hold an eldritch entities hand as he shits.

"You're...going number two, taking shit."

"Oh.. Oh. Like that disgusting thing you did?"

"Yup. Now, I unfortunately am not generous enough to sit through this one with you. Just keep pushing until everything is out, John."

Arthur prys his hand away from John's, pulling his boxers and trousers up. Arthur buttons his trousers and fastens his belt.

"But Orthur... I can't do this alone." John whines, attempting to grab Arthur's trouser leg.

"You can, and you will. I'll be outside when you're done, John." Arthur moves away before John could grab him, opening the stall door he makes his way to the sink. He secretly prays that there's no one else coming in.

"Orthur! That's not fair. I need emotional support."

John kicks his feet out and leans back uncomfortably. The pressure is growing stronger.

Arthur begins to wash his hands, ignoring John's pleas and hums a tune.

"How about I send Noel in, hm? I'm sure he'd be more than willing." Arthur offers, John and Noel are close just like them, so it shouldn't be a problem. Hopefully.

John stops his movements, sharp canines bitting at his lips.

"Okay. That's fine. Please tell him to hurry."

Arthur huffs out a muffled laugh and steps out of the bathroom.

thank you to my platonic soulmates @arthur-lesters-tits & @arthur-lesters-slutty-waist for fuelling this. I appreciate you both greatly

[aurumacadicus]

23 for the ficlet

Came back wrong werewolf Steve <3

--

The last thing that Howard ever said to him was 'I'm sorry.' Or at least, that was the last thing Steve had understood.

The transformation hadn't been finished, apparently. Steve's body hadn't finished changing until he'd been in stasis under ice water. The lupine serum had taken deeper hold as he'd floated, unconscious, until he was found and thawed and more wolf than man. Peggy couldn't even look at him. That was when Howard admitted he should have left him in the ocean.

Steve didn't remember much after that. He suspected the rage and confusion in him was too much. He'd attacked. He'd tried to rend. He'd gotten his claws in Howard's leg. Peggy had shot him, and her husband had used Steve's own shield to club him in the head and knock him out.

Now he ran in a forest. He killed and ate things warm and bloody. He chased off bears and other wolves. Sometimes, on the coldest, loneliest nights, he wished he'd been left in the ocean. At least he'd been unconscious. Maybe, after the transformation had finished, he would have even died. Now he healed within minutes, even after being shot in the chest.

Peggy had shot him in the chest, he sang to the moon mournfully.

He was aware enough that he knew the territory he called his own actually belonged to Howard. A misguided attempt to make up for not letting him die a hero. A desperate attempt to protect humans from him by erecting tall no-trespassing fences. Steve eventually decided he was fine with that. Howard would have done it even if he protested, and at least this way, he didn't have to try and be Steve Rogers. He wasn't Steve Rogers anymore. He was a monster. He couldn't even go completely human anymore.

So Steve was aware the moment someone had stepped into his territory. He didn't understand. No one had come into it before. Even Howard had stood outside the fence to observe him. And they weren't bothering to be quiet, either.

Someone was wounded, maybe. He could smell the iron tang of blood in the air. Pained yelps. A wounded pup? the wolf part of him thought. Perhaps whoever was trespassing was trying to hide from a greater danger?

Then there was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, another yelp, more blood on the wind, and his legs were moving before the fact that the injured party was being attacked again in his territory even registered.

The emblems on the uniforms the men were wearing shocked him to a stop. A skull. Six tentacles curled beneath it. Hydra. He felt a rush of heat, rage flushing through his body, quickly replaced by cold, calculating fury as he realized he hadn't wiped out Hydra in the war. They were still around. And he was just out here, howling at the moon and eating deer when he could have been crushing the bones of Hydra between his teeth instead. A growl rumbled from his chest, out his curled lips. The group turned as one.

His eyes locked with brown ones, and Steve snarled, hackles rising, teeth bared. Challenger, his wolf brain growled. Him first.

The man dropped his eyes quickly, as if realizing the danger he'd put himself in. Then, he lunged away from the rest of the group, tripping over his feet and onto the dirt. Foolish, Steve thought, muscles coiling, ready to leap.

The man grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his head, before he dropped onto his back, hands up near his head.

Submitting, the wolf in Steve realized with approval. Flashing his belly and its soft innards on display for him to choose whether to bite through or leave alone. Deferring to a more powerful wolf. His sharp eyes caught bruises along the man's side, a split lip and black eye. A bloody nose. A victim of Hydra.

Hydra, the wolf in him roared, enraged again, and Steve barely felt the heat of the bullets cutting through them as the rest of the group opened fire on him. He needed to rend. To tear. To bite and claw and kill and kill and kill because Hydra needed to die and die and die

Human blood didn't taste any different from deer blood, Steve thought, finally licking his chops. Coppery. Hot. But he didn't have any inclination to eat them like he did the deer. Just kill. That was all Hydra was good for, he thought. Killing.

The man who had submitted was still trembling on the ground. Some of the blood had splattered over him when Steve had bitten and torn. His eyes were wide, showing the whites all the way around, but he had the wherewithal to turn his gaze away when he realized Steve was looking at him.

A clever man, Steve thought with approval. He stepped closer, sniffing along the man's side to gather his scent. The man giggled reluctantly as Steve's wet nose trailed along his ribs. He smelled familiar. Like hot metal that had nothing to do with the blood trailing from his nose and lip. Steve found it in himself to shift, front paws turning to sharp-clawed hands, fur shortening, mouth shaping differently. He slid his hand over the man's soft belly, considering.

The man shivered, but he kept his eyes carefully downcast as he whispered, "W-what are you doing?"

Steve pressed his other paw--his hand. To the man's face. The man's exhale shook against his palm, but he turned, greedily leaning into his warm skin. He was cold. He didn't have a fur coat to keep him warm. A cold spring night in the New York woods was no place to be without a heavy coat.

"S. Steve-?" the man asked, more breath than air. "Steve Rogers?"

The man recognized him. Steve wondered at that. The only people who knew he was here was SHIELD.

Or. Steve remembered curious eyes in the window of Howard's car the last time he had been to visit. That had been years ago, though. He hadn't seen Howard since.

"Stark?" he rasped, voice rough from disuse. That would explain why Hydra was after him. If he was even half as smart as Howard, he would have been an asset to them.

He was Steve's now, though. He would protect the man with his life. He had submitted, had given Steve the choice of rending his tender belly open, had trusted him not to. Even Peggy hadn't trusted him enough to offer her hand for him to sniff, and here this man was, letting him snuffle along the soft, pale skin, as if he'd known the submission would convince Steve not to kill him. As if he'd expected it, instead of hoped.

"I'm Tony," the man offered, carefully lifting a hand to cover Steve's against his cheek. "You know my dad."

Steve didn't know Howard. Not really. He'd learned more about him as a wolf than he had the entire war. He curled his hand over Tony's hip, angling his body closer. He knew more about Tony now, here, the way he thought, how Hydra wanted him and he'd calculated he'd be better off with Steve, even if Steve decided to kill him. He had to admire Tony's thought process. Better dead under Steve's claws than under Hydra's thumb.

"Steve," Tony whispered, finally daring to look up at him, eyes darting to meet his and then away, as if afraid he still might challenge him. "What... what are you doing?"

"You're mine," Steve couldn't help but growl, more wolf than man no matter how hard he tried to be human. "You submitted to me."

Tony met his eyes at that, startled. "I... You can't be serious, Steve, I'm--"

"Mine," Steve growled, curling his hand over Tony's hip so his claws dug in lightly, just enough to remind him they were there and that Steve not using them was a choice. "You're mine."

"Okay," Tony whispered, other hand reaching down to cover the one on his hip. He was starting to shake. "Okay, Steve."

It was too cold for him out here, Steve figured. He cast a glance at the Hydra bodies, confirming what he already knew--their clothes were too shredded to wrap Tony up in. Not that he ever would have. His mate deserved better than Hydra scraps.

He turned back to Tony, leaning down to drag his tongue over the blood spatter across his collarbone. He didn't need Hydra's blood on him, either.

"Oh," Tony gasped, hands gripping Steve tighter, and Steve couldn't help a rumble of approval. Tony seemed smart. Capable. He must have known Steve had just enough humanity left in him to tell friend from Hydra. Steve would do him proud as a protector and mate.

[whalesforhands]

singe the tales i (satosugu x reader)

adventuring is never what it seemed to be, not when your companions are the loopy sort.

happy october! note that there will be VERY HEAVY references/inspirations from baldur’s gate 3/terraria, some anime (goblin slayer, grimgar of fantasy and ash) throughout this story, haha

warnings: fantasy au, slightly suggestive, depictions and a bit graphic descriptions of gore

masterlist next

gojo - a nobleman sorcerer from a lineage of great honour and power. an outstanding, exceptionally strong one who preceded even the most gifted of his ancestors. unafraid to get up close and personal with enemies and allies alike despite his role in the party, truly void of any fear. you wonder if he notices all the little stolen glances from you at that pretty face of his whenever he unties his bandages…

geto - summoner of sorts… a druid? necromancer? dragon— tamer? just what is he? and how is he summoning these things?regardless, all beasts, exotic creatures and even humans alike flock to him, appearing with a snap of his fingers. sly, charming and an overall magnet for trouble that begets your curiosity.

ieiri - a mysterious sorceress who seems to be lacking in terms of raw power. could you even call her a sorceress at this rate…? despite the lack of magical attacks, her healing powers and knowledge of medicine are undeniable, despite being no cleric. why does she— have such a strange allure? your eyes can’t help but stray to her whenever she enters the guild.

you - the guild receptionist who does their best. with this specific outpost quite frankly being in the middle of nowhere, you were trained in minor restoration spells, a few of the more unconventional magic tricks, and have exceptional prowess in protection spells.

——

“Little receptionist!!!” The bustling of the small guild hall rings a pleasant chirp through your ears, yet you’re still able to pick up the overly excited greetings to you.

“Oh, welcome ba-CK!” You choke when you catch a whiff of the spine-crawling odour, disgust and distaste heavy on your tongue. Rotting flesh and spoiled milk, the scent trailed heavily into the small guild hall, surrounding beginner adventurers unable to handle it, hands slapped over their mouths as they ran out, fighting the urge to throw up.

Slathered in blood and dripping with the stench of decaying entrails, the trio strolled in. Shoko is looking a little less for wear, face deadpan and quite frankly offended as she watched the already empty guild practically become void of people. Remnants of dried blood, bits of organs sticking to her cloak, her hood over her head to hide the shame of looking like this.

Satoru looks far more… Put together, if you could call it that. Not clean, not an inch at all. His stark white hair has been stained with coagulated bits of red, his face having a streak of dried blood just under one of his eyes, gloves dripping a fresher red as it gripped onto the sack he was holding onto. His armor was… practically non-existent, hanging on by a thread with his exposed undershirt revealed the torn up cloth, the lack of cuts despite the tears certainly of Shoko’s magic.

He practically perks up, his excited demeanor growing even more restless when he realizes he had correctly guessed that it was in fact you manning the front desk, nearly tripping over himself to reach you as he left his teammates behind.

“One gnoll packlord head; delivered!” He’s sending you a two-fingered salute, the bloodied sack starting to seep onto the counter as viscous blood made its presence known, bag tied crudely to outline the beheaded canine. His face ushered a cute blush, awaiting your praise as he watched your lovely face, awaiting that pretty smile and fond eyes that upturn at the sight of—

“And we managed to wipe out the entirety of the pack.” Suguru’s quiet voice draws your attention towards him, noticing his presence as he appears suddenly, his hair in slight disarray from his usual bun, sticky blood on his worn out, once pristine clothing which had been torn through to reveal disintegrating chainmail underneath. “I hope we managed to do it to the quest’s details.”

(And hopefully, to yours as well. Are you happy they managed to help get rid of knolls for you, on a quest you personally offered them? Gods, it felt amazing to be someone you relied on.)

“I-I appreciate your timely completion of my quest, but—“ You nearly want to hurl at the mere smell as the last of the few adventurers ran off, desperate to escape this overwhelming stench as your professionalism fought to surface. “Please wash up now…!”

(“So? So?! Do you like it’s head? I cut it off myself!” If Gojo Satoru had a tail, it’d be wagging uncontrollably in front of you. His sparkling eyes from behind those bandages of his can almost be seen from how excited he was.

He could’ve just cut off one of its ears as proof… But they really went beyond what was needed to bring you this decapitated head.

“Thank you.” The smile on your face is absolutely radiant as you look towards the three, the twitch of your nose and the scrunch of your face held back through pure dedication. “I really—“ The air tastes absolutely putrid. “Cannot thank you all enough!”)

——

“Help a girl out, won’t you?” Shoko twirls a strand of her hair with dismissive motions, the tobacco pipe held between her fingers waiting to be set alight as she eyes you, concentrating on the way your hair swayed with every light movement.

“Of course, Miss Ieiri. But I really am not a big fan of you smoking…” She’s leaning in close, the soft fragrance of her bergamot scented wash wafting near just as your fingertip alights with a small flame, a small pout on her lips when you pull away, eyes returning back to your work as she leaned over the counter. “It’s bad for your health.”

“It’s only for a little while.” Her cheeks puff slightly, like a child getting lectured. Don’t be too disappointed in me.”

Her playful tone causes your lips to quirk up in fondness. “Of course not, Miss Ieiri. But please do put it out after a while.” You suppose she deserves it, after her tough mission.

“Ieiri this, Ieiri that… Have you taken a liking to my last name, perhaps?” She ends with chuckle as you pause in your administrations, looking up from the tangerine you were peeling for her.

“It is quite a pretty last name, Miss Ieiri. However, it is proper protocol to maintain my professionalism, after all.” A practiced saccharine smile and a polite tone. Just part of the job to you, or is it?

(You wouldn’t exactly be peeling fruits for just any adventurer, right?)

She laughs at your overtly rehearsed, stiff tone. “Lighten up a little. I’ve already told you.” A smile is upon her face as she takes another breath from the pipe, the smoke swirling about her in an alluring whiff. “Shoko is perfectly fine.”

“Well then—“ Your bashful face is a surprise, a very welcome one to her as your eyes shift about nervously, the creeps of a hot blush upon your cheeks, a hand placed upon your face as if to slow the heat of embarrassment. “If you don’t mind, Sho—“

It’s hard to remember, that in this small guild, where hardly any adventurers drop by, calls for a lack of traffic even by your own coworkers who inadvertently take too long of a break.

“Ahhhh! (name)!” The embarrassed cry of one of them doesn’t escape you with the loud whine reverberating throughout the wooden halls. “How could you not tell me the Gojo Satoru was back?!” The older elf cried, skin burning up as she hurriedly fixed her uniform, adjusting her beret before her hands latched onto your shoulders, shaking you about as you catch the falling fruit before it gets pummeled onto the ground.

“Hi, Miss Ieiri!” Her greeting to the girl is short-lived as she moves to hold both of her hands in yours, frazzled gaze speeding to meet your own. “(name), I’m begging you!”

“Please, please!! Take over my shift! I want to go see him!” She’s hurriedly, and very suddenly dabbing on a red far too mature for her complexion, dabbing powder onto her skin as she fixes herself, cosmetic products strewn all over your once near desk, her hands combing through her locks as Shoko puts out her pipe.

“Sylrel, you look perfectly gorgeous as always.” You’re shaking your head as you take in the sight of the pretty elven maiden, patting down the beret on her head and adjusting her brooch. “I’m sure he would think so too.”

“But he doesn’t!” She’s whining as Shoko opens her mouth, letting you plop a slice of the sweet fruit in as she chews delightedly.

“Do me another favour and find him, pleaseeeeee?!”

(“So do I take your shift first or—“

“Find him, please! Or— Wait, stall him! I can’t have him find me whilst I look like this!”

Shoko misses the tangerine slice you were about to feed her when you pull away to watch your coworker, a pout on her lips as a small glare is directed towards you. As if awaiting your attention to be directed back to her.

“Oh, sorry Shoko.” You hurriedly press the fruit back against her lips. “Just… How do I even stall him…?”

(You’re finally using her name. She’s satisfied.)

Shoko doesn’t even hesitate to answer through her chews. “All you have to do is talk to him, really.” Her elbow is propped up onto the counter as she holds her chin, a smirk on her lips as she licked up the remnants of the sweet fruit.

“I’m serious.”)

——

“Oh, Mister Geto.” You greet the half-naked sorcerer, fresh out of the shower as a smaller towel is sat upon his head, long hair hanging over his shoulders as your eyes start to falter at the sight of the extremely attractive man before you out of politeness, dressed down in clothing far more relaxed to suit his mood, his pants hanging low on his hips. His arm cages you in further into the corner as you’re trapped between the wall and his frame.

(You didn’t expect to be in this situation at all. But… He is just Geto Suguru, the humble gentleman of an adventurer.)

“Did you enjoy your shower?” Your smile is as polite as ever, sweet and oh, so clueless. Even daringly helping to pat the towel down onto the wet locks of his hair.

It makes him kind of mad, really.

“You know…” He trails off, large hand coming up to tuck a strand of your hair back, his palm brushing against the soft skin of your face, watching as you blink up at him in confusion, tilting your head into his hand and letting him hold your face.

He clicks his tongue.

“It’s good that you’re so clueless at times.” But it gets on his nerves. So frustratingly, adorably hard to resist. Perhaps you need a lesson?

He leans down to your ear, lightly blowing to tease you as he watches you squirm, your body lightly jumping as your hand hurriedly rushes up to cup your ear. Just what is he doing?

You hear him chuckle, a pat descending onto your head and displacing your beret as you allow him to do so.

“It’s cute.” You’re cute.

“Thank… you?” You’re still smiling as you try to put your thoughts together. Was there a bug by your ear? Lint in your hair? Oh, whatever. “Would you mind having dinner together with the rest of your party?”

His chuckle is hearty. “And when have I ever turned down an offer from a beautiful being such as yourself?” He’s letting your warmth linger on his skin before he begrudgingly forces himself to pull away, watching as your hands slowly reached up to fix his hair, tucking wet strands away to reveal his face as you stare head on into his eyes.

“I’m happy to hear that, then.”

And he’s happy to see that smile on your face.

(“Ah, Sylrel was looking for Mister Gojo. Where is he? Still showering?” Just as he opens his mouth to answer you, a shout sounds out from the showers.

“SU. GU. RU!” Angry yells akin to a chihuahua’s bark echo from the ajar door. “I’M USING YOUR SOAP!”)

masterlist next

Notes:

A sorcerer differs from a wizard. A sorcerer is someone whose affinity for magic is innate, whilst wizards study magic in order to wield it, much like a learned skill.

Geto and Gojo are nowhere near in a romantic relationship together. (Yet.) Their relationship is described as a ‘love-hate rivalry’ more than anything. Their inability to cooperate together has costed them several quests.

Your feelings towards the SSS trio? You care about them. They helped you plenty of times ever since you got this job recently. You really appreciate it.

Sylrel. A high elf that adopted you and raised you as her own. Basically the closest thing you have to a mother figure.

*Gnolls. Born from the gluttony of bloated hyenas feasting on human remains, emerging from their four-legged cages of flesh and lesser being, bursting out as a human-hyena hybrid that walks on two legs all whilst maintaining low intelligence, predominantly canine features and a never ending hunger.

nvy’s aftertalk:

hi guys i’m addicted to baldur’s gate 3 haha. i don’t think i can ever write modern aus properly or at all after playing that game. writing this made me realize how much of a stupid geek i am

do u like this series 👉👈, if u don’t it’s fine (i will cry if u don’t)

[hallecarey1]

His Touch | Bucky Barnes

Summary: As Bucky is suffering because he can't reassure you that he is returning home, you were suffering because you didn't know if Bucky would come home to you. After returning, he shows that you will never lose him, and you connect in a way that proves nothing eases suffering like human touch.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Smut (18+)

Author's note: This was my first attempt at writing smut, and to be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about it.

Flashes of Bucky's bloody corpse flooded your mind while you did nothing but sit and worry about him. The thought of Steve or Fury knocking on your door to inform you that Bucky died during the mission had kept you pacing in front of it restlessly.

Despite Fury's warning that the mission would be challenging, you were confident that Bucky would return home a few days later. But when the days grew into weeks and there were no updates, you began to worry that he would never return to you. 

Bucky knows he needs to return to you because you've told him several times in the middle of the night, with tears running down your cheeks and his arms around your waist, that you simply can't live without him. It was his promise to you just before boarding the Quinjet two weeks ago.

There hasn't been any word from anyone regarding his whereabouts, and the fact that he's been missing for two weeks brings back flashbacks of Bucky at Hydra. You were horrified as the thought of Bucky being kidnapped by Hydra struck yet another emotional nerve. You drank from the whisky bottle, hoping that the burn of the alcohol down your throat would ease your thoughts and stop the memories of your captivity with the Soldat. 

When you entered Bucky's room, you had changed into clean pajamas, your damp hair clinging to the shirt. Bucky's scent hit you as his red henley draped over your tiny frame, evoking a sense of protection and comfort. You crawled into his bed and grabbed a book to keep yourself occupied until you got an update on Bucky. 

You yawn as you lie in bed, taking in the soft pillow and comfortable mattress. You felt the full impact of tiredness from the many days and nights you had not slept as you turned a new page in your book. Bucky's scent drifting from his bed and shirt, as well as the warmth of his bed, lulled you to sleep.

Within hours of you falling asleep, the compound's elevator opened to reveal a bloodied and bruised Bucky. Bucky dashed to his room after Dr.Cho patched up his wounds so he could finally sleep and hold you in his arms. 

He stumbled onto the floor, which he shared with Steve and Sam, and carefully opened the door to his room with the goal not to wake you up. As he entered his room and saw you curled into a ball with his red henley draped over your tiny frame and his dog tags around your neck, he couldn't control his arousal. He approached you and removed the book from your sleeping figure, which he placed on the bedside table.

The spark of desire he felt when he saw you wearing his henley and dog tags sprang from a need to show everyone that you were his, as well as a possessive desire to keep outsiders and newcomers from touching what was his. Bucky was kindling that deep longing in him, but he controlled it because, no matter how much he wanted to stake his claim on you, he just needed to feel you. Feeling your touch reassures him that he is not an unlovable monster.

Your deep sleep is disturbed by a cool touch on your head and the sensation of lips brushing on your cheek. When you open your eyes, you see Bucky hovering over you, his stubbled face smiling, and his metal hand running through your hair.

"Bucky?" you question sleepily as you rub your eyes, your awoken state making it difficult to tell whether Bucky is real or a hallucination.

"Hi, doll. I’m sorry for being late." He apologizes and leans in close, kissing you on both cheeks, nose, and forehead before softly pulling away with a kiss on your lips.

As you look into each other's eyes, he lightly caresses the softness of your cheek with his cold fingers. You put one hand on Bucky's cheek and the other securely in his dark hair, luring him into a passionate kiss."I thought you left me," you muttered against his lips, a faint whimper escaping your lips. Because he had been missing for so long, you were terrified.

Because Steve had known him for a long time and appeared completely calm and confident in Bucky's safety, the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents labeled you an attention seeker when they saw you freaking out about the possibility of Bucky being captured and taken by Hydra again, believing you were overreacting and being dramatic.

It made your blood boil. It didn't matter that Steve had known Bucky for longer than you had; what was meant to be important was that Bucky had been sent on a mission and had not communicated with anyone, despite the fact that he was supposed to return to the base two weeks ago.

Yes, Steve had known Bucky for much longer than you, but you had spent three years in HYDRA together. You built a bond during your stay there. You connected in ways no one could fathom, a bond that kept you both alive while retaining your humanity. 

Bucky, even as the Winter Soldier, never hurt you and made sure no one else touched what was his. Similarly, when they brainwashed you and changed you into the Phoenix, you became assassins who protected one another no matter what happened on the mission.

"I'd never leave you," he says as he presses his lips to yours and kisses you passionately. It wasn't his intention to inform you, but there was a brief moment during his mission when he was afraid he wouldn't see you again.

Flashback: 

This mission had been particularly difficult for him. Everything was going according to plan as he removed Hydra agents from left to right until he felt a searing prick in his neck and everything went black. During that time, the agents bound him to a chair and tortured him in the hopes of eliciting information from him. When he realized the promise he made to you would be broken, he was filled with fear and sorrow. He was convinced he would never see you again. But it wasn't until a hydra doctor appeared, clutching a red book with a black star on the cover, that everything became clear.

Bucky's face lit up with a little grin when he noticed the red book. The Winter Soldier was the deadliest murdering machine ever devised. He would gladly offer him to them if they wanted him. Everything seemed to be going according to plan until the trigger words were said. The Winter Soldier was vehemently opposed to cooperating. The gaze he fired at them horrified them. He was simply there to protect you, and when he learned you weren't there, all hell broke loose. He destroyed the Hydra base in less than five minutes and followed the trail in his mind that led to you. Once the Winter Soldier had gotten the Quinjet in the sky, he relinquished control. 

Present Time: 

When he felt your cold fingers caress his cheekbones, he smiled against your lips and breathed heavily as he pulled away from the kiss. As Bucky drags your body down the bed, you squeal in surprise, and a mischievous gleam appears in his cerulean eyes as he slides his body between your legs.

You're still laughing as he kisses you more, but it fades quickly when his hands squeeze your hips and drag your body lower so he's laying on top of you. His hand on your hip went gently upward, going under his shirt and resting firmly on your lower back. He pushed your body closer to his, groans escaping you both from the sensation of his bulge pressing against your covered core. 

As the kiss intensifies, the friction of his thick erection against your core causes a wet patch on your underwear. You release a gasp when the coldness of his metal hand reaches the heated flesh above your underwear, his lips caressing your neck as he sneaks his hand under your shorts and rubs your clad core.

The ache between your thighs pushes you to clench your thighs around Bucky's hand, and his hungry eyes meeting yours only adds to the heat blazing in your core. When his fingers graze your clit, you groan as your panties are dragged against your throbbing clit, begging to feel his touch and remove the barrier that keeps you from feeling completely satisfied.

As he slips his hand under your pantyhose and brushes his metal fingers against the soft, shaved skin on your mound, you shiver. "Please, I need you," you gasped, tilting your head back as he pressed his lips against yours, moaning as he rubbed your clit with his wet, juice-soaked fingers.

"I got you, baby," he said softly in your ear, gasping as he pushed a finger inside your tight pussy. His palm brushed your clit as he curled his fingers. Bucky lifted his head, his gaze fixed on yours. He watched as your lips opened and your face distorted in delight. "Are you ready for another pretty girl?"

You exhale, feeling his smirk on your neck as he softly pushes another finger inside your tight pussy. "I missed you so much. Please fuck me. I need you." As his palm presses harder against your clit, you sob.

Bucky was hovering over you, breathing heavily, as you reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt, drawing him in closer. With slow, open-mouth kisses over your neck, he nipped at your collarbone. "Not yet, no. I need to taste you," he says, slipping his hand out of your shorts and withdrawing his lips away from your neck. He puts his wet fingers in his mouth and groans softly at the taste of you, peering right into your eyes

"You taste so good, baby," he says, adjusting his Henley to rest against your ribcage, leaving sloppy kisses from your underboob to your navel. A pleased feeling spreads throughout your body as Bucky's actions continue downward. 

While you hold his gaze, Bucky's lips slide down to your pussy, tugging your underwear aside as he leaves a gentle kiss on your clit, you gasp your hand reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. 

He kisses your thigh and bites the delicate flesh before hooking his thumbs into your underwear waistband and dragging them down your smooth legs before resting on his knees. "Spread your legs for me, baby." His low, velvety voice sent shivers down your spine, and you sheepishly agreed. 

"Shit, doll. So wet for me." He let out a choked grunt before palming his large erection through his tactical pants, forcing you to whine. When he gripped your thighs strongly, your shaking hands gripped the sheets tightly, his eyes fixed on yours as he swiped a finger over your wet folds, making your breathing increase. 

"Bucky," you moaned as his tongue flattened against your core, his warm tongue gliding across your virgin sex. You let out a loud groan as his tongue slid between your folds and circled the tip of his tongue around your clit.

"Tastes so fuckin' good." Bucky sighs, pulling your lips apart with his thumb and finger. You tugged harder on Bucky's hair as you felt his warm tongue plunge into your cunt, the sensation of Bucky moaning into your cunt had your toes curling. 

Bringing his hand up your body, he grasped your breast, softly twisting your nipple. Your lips parted and your eyelids closed as you felt the coldness of his hand. You buck up into his mouth as he sucks the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips that has you spewing his name out between gasps, your head dropping back onto the pillow. "Bucky." You moan, sensing your approach.

Bucky pulled away just as you were going to cum. His lips had met yours as your hand moved over his suit, unbuckling and unstrapping it. He hurls his vest across the room, leaving him bare-chested. As you smooth over the scarred skin on his shoulder, you press a soft kiss to it and the ones around it, making him tremble above you.

"I want to feel you cum around my cock," he murmured, unbuckling his belt and tossing it on the ground, his pants and boxers landing on top. Your attention shifted from the planes of his strong chest to the trail of dark hair at his navel, which led to his big and erect cock. As you moved your hand down his chest to his cock, you could see beads of pre-cum seeping from his tip. “Doll.” His hips jerked up as you wrapped your hand around his thick cock.

Adding a pleasing pressure as you jerked him off, Bucky's hand removed yours swiping his thumb over the pre-cum seeping from his tip. “You look so hot when you wear my clothes.” He praised, running his thumb over your bottom lip before slipping it into your mouth. You complied, sucking his pre-cum off his thumb, Bucky groaned as he felt you moaning around his digit.

"That was so hot, baby." Pulling his thumb out, dragging your bottom lip down, saliva coating it. He intertwined his cold metal hand with yours and placed it next to your head.“I love you,олукa.” He looked you in the eyes and caressed your cheek with his warm palm, causing your eyelids to close for a fraction of a second before opening and gazing into his cobalt eyes.

"I love you, too, Bucky." Your love for him was visible in your eyes, and when he looked into them, all he saw was happiness and love. Bucky hovers over you, lines his tip up to your entrance, then softly and carefully pushes himself into you, inch by inch, until he's completely sheathed. When your tight walls stretched around his thick member, you winced into the kiss as it burned.

His warm hand went under your thigh and grasped it as he thrust his hips forward, kissing your collarbone with his lips. Bucky growled as you tighten your grip on him as he thrust toward you. "Bucky. " You whimpered, your free hand grasping the hair on the back of his neck.

Bucky reached down and rubbed his fingers hard across your sensitive clit. You could feel the tension in your gut loosening as you rested your forehead against his and locked your gaze with his. "I'm gonna cum, Bucky." Bucky drove into you faster and harder, and you moaned, your eyes shutting.

"Come on, baby," he moaned, slamming himself into you at a rapid rate, his metal hand encircling your throat. "Cum on my dick, doll." Bucky's grasp on your throat intensified, causing you to cry out. The cold from his metal fingers around your throat snapped the coil in your stomach, core tightening from the satisfaction of your release.

Bucky reached his own peak as your walls tightened around him. "Fuck, doll," he mumbled into your ear as he released into you. A shiver goes through his body as he continues to thrust into you, working both of you through your high.

"Fuck, baby," he whispers as he pulls his cock out of you.  He reaches down to your delicate cunt with two fingers, seeing his cum drip out, and pushes it back into you. He placed his fingers soaked in his cum and your release into your mouth, and you could feel your legs trembling from your previous climax. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get cleaned up and get ready for bed." Bucky chuckles as he pulls you to the end of the bed. Bucky enters the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth. He opens your legs and begins wiping up the cum dripping between your legs, but you gasp as the wet towel brushes across your sensitive core.

"I'm sorry, baby. Did I go too rough?" Bucky stares at you with sadness in his eyes as he tosses the wet washcloth into the dirty laundry hamper.

“No. You did everything perfectly, just a little sensitive." You wrap your arms over his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair. Bucky leans towards you, sighing as your fingers run through his hair.

"How about you take a shower while I get dressed and change the bed sheets?" You suggest to Bucky, knowing he had a difficult mission.

“A shower sounds great.” Bucky nods

“Ok. Go take a shower; when you're done, everything will be ready for bed." You kiss his forehead before watching him walk into the bathroom.

You put on a clean pair of underwear, shorts, and one of Bucky's t-shirts before removing the bed sheets and comforter and replacing them with new ones on the bed. Just as you finish placing the comforter on the bed, the bathroom door opens to see Bucky in only his boxers.

Before you both crawl into bed, you exchange an affectionate smile.Bucky sat with his back against the headboard, looking for anything to watch on TV, and you sat next to him, drawing the blanket up to your chin and resting your head on his chest before he laid his arm over your shoulders.

"I thought I'd lost you." you trembled.

"You'll never lose me, baby," he whispered as he glanced at you, but Bucky observed tears pouring down your cheeks as he connected his sight to yours. Bucky moved you to sit on his lap. "Shh, baby. It's okay, I'm here." Bucky cupped his hands around your face, brushing away tears with his thumbs. 

You buried your face in his neck as sobs took over your body, Bucky tightening his arms around you, doing his best to console you. "I was afraid I'd never see you again," you say as you pull him closer.

Bucky drew you away and wiped your tears with his head against yours. "I'm so sorry to have scared you, sweetheart. I discovered an abandoned cabin to stay in, but I couldn't communicate with anyone."He said this as you drew back to assess him for injuries.

"I love you so much, Bucky," Your eyes flood up with emotions as you convey your feelings for him. "I love you, too, baby." leaning forward to give you a gentle kiss on the lips.

"Til the end of the line, doll." He kissed the top of your head. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his chest. While fiddling with your hair, he kissed your head. You raise your hand up to your mouth, intertwined with his metal one, and kiss his hand softly.

“We need that touch from the one we love, almost as much as we need air to breathe. But I never understood the importance of touch, until the day I met Bucky Barnes. He saved me. In every way that a person can be saved.”

Translation: голубка - Dove

[rotxos-sweeetheart]

Shards.

What if Spiders mask broke?

Tiny mention of neglect.

The inspiration behind this: here

—

It had been two months since the fight, Neteyams death, and Spider saving Quaritch.

Kiri knew, Spider didn’t know how but one day Kiri had just shown up and told Spider she wasn’t upset. That Eywa needed Spider to save Quaritch.

He didn’t think anyone else knew.

The Sully’s were healing, and had begun treating Spider better.

Spider swears he nearly fainted when Neytiri, who never cared for him, shoved a beaded necklace at him.

Ronal seemed to take that as a challenge.

Spider had been all but officially adopted into the Metkayinan family.

Supprisinly, it had been Ronal who went to him first. She had seen this small injured human boy behind the Sully’s, and decided he would be hers.

It took Ao’nung a day to decide his mother was right.

When they had learned about the treatment Spider had been given but the Sully, and most other, adults, there was a few fights.

Ronal was outraged at this poor boys treatment, and Tonowari was angry for Spiders childhood. The siblings were mad that their little big brother was treated so badly.

When he showed up wearing Neytiri’s necklace, Ronal and Tsireya spent most of the night making him a top, he was wearing one of Tsireya’s right now, from her childhood, it helped when he was in the sun all day, and when he was playing with the others.

Close to sun rise, Ao’nung had walked to his mother and sister, handing them a bead for Spiders top.

He had made this bead when he was a child, and refused to allow anyone to even braid it into his song cord. The meaning did not escape the women.

Nor did it escape Spider, when he saw the bead he’d heard tales about in his new top.

He wore it with pride, happy, and bragged to anyone, wether they wanted to here or not.

Like that, the war between the mothers was on.

—

Spider had been playing with his siblings, both sets, when it happened.

He grabbed Ao’nungs tail, in return Kiri shoved Spider, Lo’ak nudged Kiri, Tsireya shoved Lo’ak, Ao’nung went for Kiri, and Spider tickled Tuk.

At least, that had been the plan.

Instead of tickling Tuk, he fell. Onto the sand. Mask first.

*Crack*

Everything stopped.

It would have been comical if Spider wasn’t so frightened.

He could see so much clearer.

His mask was broke

All hell broke lose in a split second.

Kiri screamed.

Tuk cried.

Lo’ak shouted.

Ao’nung shoved his hands onto Spiders face.

Tsireya prayed to Eywa.

Jake and Neytiri were frozen.

Ronal was seconds away from fighting, probably Neytiri.

Tonowari was crying, holding Tuk.

Spider was-

Spider wasn’t reacting.

He was more focused on the fact he was breathing.

Actually breathing.

He mask was shattered, and Ao’nung had cuts on his hands from pressing them into Spiders broken mask and face, and Spider was breathing.

Kiri was the first to react. It took seconds for her to realise her person was breathing okay.

In Pandoran air.

Ao’nung was next. He could feel Spiders breathe against his bloody hands. Measured, even breaths.

His brother was breathing.

Ronal was next.

She knew Spider was special, could feel it. And now Eywa had proved it. Eywa had given her baby a blessing to help him survive.

Tuk, Lo’ak, and Jake realised next.

Spider was going to be okay.

Tonowari and Neytiri realised at the same time.

Tonowari felt a huge wave of relief, his new son, his fragile baby, was okay, was a bit less in danger.

Neytiri…

Neytiri was scared. There was this child she’d been treating as little more than a pet, and here was actual real proof that he was Eywa blessed.

This happened in the span of a second.

Pure silence encased a third.

The fourth second was chaos.

Ronal and Tonowari rushed forwards to him, grabbing him and spinning, thanking Eywa.

Kiri whooped with pure elation, her person would be okay and now everyone one knew he belonged.

Neytiri couldn’t think. Spider was blessed by Eywa and Neytiri had actively tried too keep him away, to make him leave.

Jake didn’t know what to think. He knew he hadn’t treated Spider the best, but he had tried right? Jake caught Neytiri, she had collapsed into him.

Jake held Neytiri, and turned to walk away. Spider was not their family, they had both seen to that. This was not their moment.

Lo’ak wasn’t really moving, he was just smiling. So so happy his brother was going to be okay.

Ao’nung laughed. He joined his parents in celebrating his brother, and dragged Lo’ak and Kiri in to. His baby older brother was okay! He didn’t even flinch when Kiri spread some paste over his cut hands.

Tsireya picked Tuk up, smiling and giggling, and joined her family to celebrate. She didn’t have to worry so much any more, her little brother had now well and truely proved to all Na’vi and everyone that he was Pandorian, he belonged.

All the eight of them could think in that moment was: No one could take him away now.

—

Spider spent the rest of the day with his siblings.

They played for hours, everything seemed easier now that they weren’t worried about Spiders mask breaking.

Of course, now Spider had to learn to breath underwater, no longer able to rely on his exo-mask.

Ronal was insistent on there being a large cerimony for the Metkayina people, to celebrate Eywa’s clear acceptance of her son.

Spider thought it was just to rub it in Neytiri’s face.

He spent the night with his family. Tucked snugly in between Ronal and Tonowari, with Ao’nung cuddled behind him, and Tsireya at his front.

Ronal and Ao’nung had spent the better part of the evening touching, petting, and kissing all over his face, whilst Tsireya had worked on his stripes and hair, they’d been working on it for a while now, but he’d been so severely neglected she was only just getting through it. Tonowari made sure Spider was warm enough, and comfortable.

—

It wasn’t his born family, or his grow-up family.

But this was Spiders family.

And that was enough.

Being able to breathe the same air was a blessing, one he would thank Eywa for everyday.

He slept that night dreaming of a dwarfed Tulkun, swimming along side him.

~~~

Bonds

Hii! Again, @meenawrites was the inspiration behind this!

I apologise if the end isn’t as good, my hamster had his forever nap so I’m a bit sad.

Let me know what you think?

And if you want more!

~Nik’an💙

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

hiii

🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️

⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲

54 for 🧜‍♂️

---

Watching Buck pinned under a fire engine, and not being to help him, or risk getting them both blown up, is torture. Eddie feels like his skin is on fire. His jaw is clenched so tightly it throbs. He can’t lose Buck. He just can’t. 

Buck looks horrible. Bloody and in pain. The way his leg is pinned scares Eddie. But more than that, Eddie thinks something about the expression in his eyes is also concerning. Maybe it’s agony or fear or just shock, but Buck looks sort of absent. Like human sense has left him, replaced by a primal sort of panic. Eddie wants to comfort him. He wants to hold him and promise him everything will be okay. He wants to shout out for him and tell him they will save him. He just can’t; he’s not able to. 

When they finally do get to him, after Chimney and Bobby both risk their lives, Eddie is a wreck. His hands are shaking. The only thing keeping him upright is the fact that he deals with emergencies every single day. He can turn on a level of stoicism. Even if he’s shattering inside. 

Eddie crouches in front of Buck, squeezing his hand and helping Hen check his vitals and get him in a C-collar. 

“You’re okay,” Eddie promises. “It’s okay. We’ve got you, alright?”

“Water,” Buck chokes out, squeezing Eddie’s hand back. “I need… Water.”

“Water,” Eddie echoes. He realizes what Buck is trying to tell him. The ocean. He needs the ocean. “Um…”

“We’ll get you everything you need at the hospital, Buckaroo,” Hen says gently. “We need to focus on getting you out of here. Plus, I don’t want to put anything in your stomach - you probably need emergency surgery.”

There’s no probably about it. Buck needs emergency surgery. But that’s not the type of water he’s talking about. And actually, that kind of water might prevent said surgery. But that isn’t a guarantee. Buck said he’d never tested it on a big injury. And it’s not foolproof, right? It didn’t fix a hangover. What if Eddie demands they take him to the ocean, for some absurd reason they listen to him, Buck not only gets outed, but also gets hurt worse in the process? 

“Water,” Buck begs, looking at Eddie. “Eddie.” 

“I can’t,” Eddie exhales. “It’s not safe.” 

The looks that spreads across Buck’s face after that? Eddie will remember it forever. 

🌻

It’s the middle of the night and Buck is in surgery. Eddie finds himself standing at Venice Beach, the closest to the hospital. He has a big jar in his hand. He’d emptied all the pickles in his fridge into a container, rinsed it, and brought it here.

---

54 for⛅️

---

Like, okay? If he’s really gay, shouldn’t he be reacting somehow to the sight of Buck’s very hard dick? Well, he keeps looking at it… Can’t seem to stop looking at it. But he’s not frothing at the mouth or something! Although, he’s never done that for a vagina either. Or even a nice pair of breasts, really. That’s just not him. So…

Eddie scrolls through all the photos. They’re only photos. Not bad photos. Very interesting photos. Photos that Eddie isn’t… Disliking. But really, if they’re going to have all this on his phone, why not have a video or two? Just something for Eddie to see what he’s, uh, like… During the act. You know, how good is it for him? From his face in some of these photos, it looks like he’s probably having a good time. 

“What are you looking at?” 

Eddie drops the phone onto the bed beside him, startled. He didn’t hear Buck come back into the room. Why didn’t he hear Buck come back into the room? Why can he hear his heart pounding instead? 

And there’s Buck, standing there in only a towel, chest still a little wet, looking at Eddie, amused. 

“Nothing,” Eddie sputters. “Nothing at all.”

Buck snorts and walks towards his side of the bed to grab his pajamas. He turns around to change, but god Eddie is feeling flustered anyway. He knows what everything looks like now. In many positions. 

“Okay,” Buck says as he wriggles into his pants. “But sort of rude to be so openly looking at porn in our marital bed.”

Eddie coughs. 

Buck, stills shirtless, spins around to look at him. 

“Eddie, are you looking at porn?” He asks. “I was just kidding!” 

“I’m looking at our nudes,” Eddie blurts. 

Buck’s eyes bug. His jaw drops. 

Shit. Why did Eddie say anything? 

“Our nudes?” Buck asks.

“We have some nudes,” Eddie says. “On this phone.”

“C-can I see?” Buck asks.

“No!” Eddie squawks, grabbing his phone again. 

“How is that fair?” Buck asks. “You saw them!”

---

54 for ⚡️

---

He’s got shampoo foaming in his hair, and he’s humming along to a song playing from a shower speaker, when…

“BUCK!” He hears Eddie call from the bedroom.

“YEAH?” Buck calls back, rinsing his hair. 

“IT’S HAPPENING!” 

It’s happening? What’s… Oh! 

“THE BABY?” He shouts back. 

“YES, THE BABY! GET OUT OF THE SHOWER!” 

Buck doesn’t even finish with the shampoo. He hops out, nearly slips, towel dries his hair and body, throws the clothes he’d been wearing all day back on, and practically stumbles out of the bathroom and into the master. 

“Okay, let’s go!” He pants. “I’m ready!”

“There’s soap in your ear,” Eddie observes. 

“Who cares?” Buck asks. “Let’s go meet our girl!”

Eddie smiles. He walks up to Buck, wipes the shampoo from the helix of Buck’s left ear, and then wipes his hand on Buck’s shirt. 

“Pepa’s on her way to stay with Chris,” Eddie says. “Then we can go.”

“I hope she’s speeding,” Buck says.

“Let’s not hope that. She pays more attention to her audiobooks than the road.”

☆☆☆

Their daughter is born at 2:31 in the morning on October 22nd. 

It’s a long wait. And it’s late at night. And Eddie isn’t really sure of his place in this position. It’s not really the same as with Chris. The only similar thing is the anticipation and the hope and the love he already feels. They’re not in the room. Neither of them cuts the cord. They wait until Lourdes has had the time she needs with the baby until they meet her. 

And still, the minute he gets to hold her, it’s all the same. Biology doesn’t matter at all. He loves her so much. 

Buck is crying. Eddie is crying too. He hadn’t really realized it. Not until he passes her to Buck and has a moment to touch his own face. Pretty wet, actually. Well, of course it is. He’s just met someone he’s going to love more than anyone but Chris for the rest of his life. 

She’s beautiful. Right off the bat she’s so beautiful. Usually he doesn’t think newborn babies are that cute. They’re kind of inhuman looking most of the time. Not her. And not Chris, actually, remembering it. Okay, maybe he’s just biased. 

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54 for 🌲

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He still doesn’t know how to feel about this. What it means about him. Where did this come from, or has he always felt it? And just buried it deep down? He has no idea. All he knows is that he feels a deep, consuming need to be as close to Buck as possible. As much he can be. And that being touched by him last night, touching him? Was the best Eddie has felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

“This, uh, this doesn’t put you off?” Eddie asks, motioning to his face and tail. 

“Not remotely,” Buck answers. And Eddie can tell it’s not just a platitude. He’s being honest. 

“That probably says something about you,” Eddie says. “Might wanna check on that.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “You gonna keep delaying or give me an answer?”

Yeah, okay. He’s scared. Terrified. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t know what he is, beyond some sort of monster. He doesn’t want to take advantage of Buck in any way. 

“You’re thinking too hard,” Buck says. “Yes or no. It’s okay either way.”

“Yes,” Eddie blurts. “Yes.” 

Buck grins a little mischievously. Eddie sort of turns to goo. He finds he cannot regret his decision at all. 

🍂

When Eddie decides to turn off his brain, the switch is flipped. It’s like he surrenders to Buck entirely, the way Buck had to him last night. And there’s no magic influencing any of it. At least that Buck can feel. It’s just them. Him and Eddie. 

It’s sort of like a dream. 

Buck really just hopes it’s real. He doesn’t ask though. He’s not going to pause and say, hey, Eddie, this mean you’re queer? No way! First of all, he doesn’t want to hear no, I’m just currently out of other options. Not that he thinks that’s Eddie’s motivation, but he’s read all these stories of Huldra. He knows there’s a base instinct there to have people. He doesn’t want to know if that’s all this is. Not yet. Second, if this is just a genuine sexual awakening for Eddie, he doesn’t have to have it figured out yet. Buck didn’t, that quickly. Doesn’t fully, even now. Eddie deserves to have time to process that. 

So Buck doesn’t ask any questions. He just lets everything unfold, and he quietly hopes it’s real.