#(read 333 it's so good)

[m1d-45]

bloodletting

summary: a budding god needs a place to test their new powers, and childe was always a little too eager to lose a fight... a match made in heaven!

word count: 1.7k

-> warnings : minor AQ spoilers ? just like, general gi plot.. fairly graphic depiction of blood + other injuries (might be classed as body horror???). generally obsessive tendencies (childe <--> you). i cannot stress this enough, reader is 110% a sadist.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

power was not something that came easy. it was fought over, stolen, defended with teeth and claw, tides of blood shed just so one could have power over another. social, physical, financial; no matter the leverage it provided, power was hard won. to give someone power was to admit defeat, a certain death that tartaglia had learned and taught more than his fair share of times. nobody undeserving of power ever held onto it for long; it was an acknowledgement that you were better, that you deserved it, that you’d won. power was a fickle resource that childe would kill to keep, only ever laying down his blade for a precious few.

the tsaritsa, of course. his fellow harbingers, skilled both on and off-field, who themselves could rival the archons. his family, for whom he’d happily give the world.

and naturally, who would be more worthy to hold power than you?

you, not just a god but the, the highest authority across all of teyvat. you bore a hundred names and a thousand monikers, your worship the one thing the world could agree on. granted, nobody could quite agree on how, but that was fine. childe did not need external powers to tell him what to do. he knew, in his deepest heart, that he had gotten it right.

he knew—and, on occasion, flaunted—that he was your favorite. of all the vessels you had chosen, you returned to him time and time again, wishing on his stars until his vision gleamed. his bow shone with power, even his weakest weapon more than enough to push his strength to new heights. part of him wondered what he could do if you’d granted him swords, or a claymore… but that was speculation for another time. didn’t it say something that you had still chosen him at his weakest?

the thought always made him smile. thick in the heat of puppeteered battle, before the sun to after dark, your presence was a constant in his life. at every altar, with every offering, when his hands stung from the rash of leather and his blade was covered in rust, your name a prayer behind blood-soaked teeth. he could not remember a time when his pocket was not weighted with a charm.

his devotion was no secret. he wore your bow with pride, entirely phasing out his other weapons. it didn’t matter that he was technically more controlled with them, for you had chosen this path for him. your word was his guide, a polar star through bitter nights.

he did not doubt when your presence ebbed or flowed. who was he to dictate when or where you spent your attention? no, his faith did not waver. it had no reason to. he waited patiently, going about his regular duties, lingering in snezhnaya for no other reason that he just felt like he had to.

who was he to question to buzzing in the back of his head? who was he to decline when he felt an instinct to leave, to go for a trip far past the city gates? who was he to think himself better than the guiding light that had never led him astray?

for you, he was whatever you needed. and so he went, armed with a thick coat and snowboots, hands shoved deep in the pockets to hide the slight shake. down the main road, an arbitrary turn into an alley and down an abandoned path, into a part of the city he’d never traveled. but a golden thread had tied itself around his heart, pulling without hesitation. he easily hopped over the fence gate, not bothering with hauling it open through the snow. the path beyond was covered in a thick layer of powder, his foot crunching through a foot of it before hitting solid ground. still, he continued.

snezhnayan winters were not warm. they bit and dug into every gap in your clothes, stealing away the precious warmth within. and yet, with his half-done coat and incomplete guard, he was not cold. or, rather, he couldn’t feel it. his hands were pink with frost, stiff at the knuckles, but he couldn’t feel the resistance. his body was not important, not now.

the snow began to thin. it fell from his knees to his shins to his ankles to his toes, until he was face to face with a thick wall of bramble, impossibly overgrown. he was beginning to overheat in his jacket. twin blades made quick work of the wall, and the sight behind it easily dispelled any breath left in his lungs.

the air that washed out of the bubble was thick and heavy, like a humid spring instead of snezhnayan woods. his breath came in short gasps, a shameful wheeze that he hoped was missed beneath the howling snow. he didn’t want you to see him as weak, as someone so easily tired by a short trip to a falling star; he didn’t want you to think of him as anything other than his best.

but you didn’t push him away. you helped him up—his head was buzzing with delusion, he could hardly see, when had he fallen to his knees?—and brushed the snow off his hair, not pushing him away when he leaned into your touch. he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could barely collect himself enough to recognize that he needed to get you inside, away from the wilds.

that was power. to so effortlessly take over every thought in his head, to hold his mind in your hands and pull it into your liking, that was the power he adored you for. gods were figureheads of power, a physical incarnation of their dominion. a god of the entire world would only naturally have power to manipulate that world to their liking. how blessed was he, that he could be the first you made yours.

he was with you when you first stepped into zapolyarny palace, looking around at the chandeliers and fine tile. he opened the door for you to her majesty’s throne room, sucking in a sharp breath as you brushed by. he was by your side when the tsaritsa swore you her fealty, delicately placing the gnoses in your hands.

and oh, how he’d fallen to the floor right then and there, dizzy from the wash of power that rolled off you in waves, an ocean that he willingly dove into. the floor was cool beneath his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin as sweat quickly began to bead. he didn’t bother pushing himself up on his hands, teeth sinking deep into his lip again to control his panting breath. copper bloomed over his tongue, filling his mouth and clogging what remained of his senses.

dimly, he was aware that he was being pathetic, that this would surely change your mind about him. he heard your voice, faint through the fog of his mind, your wisdom lost to his own inadequacy. and yet, despite his weakness, every part of him was tuned into you. he knew it was your hand whispering across his shoulders, he knew it was your influence that stole the breath from his lungs. he knew it was you, because it was always you. you were all he could think of, and now you were finally able to leverage your full power over his self.

he’d woken up in a hospital bed. saline dripped into his arm and the lights pierced his eyes, his head full of snow and iced over. and yet, the moment he was cleared for release, he found himself desperate to be back to your side, racing through the tiled halls of the palace and following the urgent burn in his chest. you would have been right to turn him away, to deem him too weak to stay by your side, but you didn’t. you smiled when he lost his breath and laughed when he wavered, brushing off his concern. you invited him with you—his lungs burned with the need for oxygen—as you twirled the gnoses between your fingers, as if they were toys or paperweights rather than objects of divine power.

divine to him. child’s play to you. a courtyard of snow was cleared in an instant, ripples of pyro melting permafrost while keeping the flora beneath intact, a lazy show of power that pulled little more than a slight hum from you in response.

he wasn’t so much a fool as to think he could teach you everything, or even something, about being divine. and yet he clung to your side like a sailor in a storm, watching as you grew familiar with the elements. he watched, stubborn and weak, as you stopped hesitating.

flowers bloomed as you walked by, crumbling to ash with the slightest look. electro jumped from your skin to his, a painful spark that drew his mind from his head, finally seeing your amused eyes instead of just mindlessly staring. you could—should—have just left him behind, but you didn’t. you instead asked for his help, taking his hand in yours and leading him to a quieter hallway of the palace. you didn’t comment on his thundering pulse despite the fact that you could certainly feel it, tracing a finger along the crease of his palm.

“i wonder…”

a claw of geo cut across his skin, a sharp sting that quickly welled with blood. he barely felt it, watching with detached awe as it filled up his hand, sliding over the edge and dripping to the floor. you didn’t show any emotion, just… watching. his heart beat in his hands, a pool collecting on the floor, and still, you just watched. your other hand moved over the surface, barely an inch away, the blood collecting in a bubble beneath it. with a hum, your fist tightened, pain lighting up his arm. a strained grunt slipped between his teeth, hand flinching closed, brushing against the ball of his blood you had pulled from his veins. his hand was stained red, shaking in your grasp, minutes stretched into hours.

all at once, it dropped, forced back into his body as forcefully as it was removed. with a snap, the skin stitched itself shut, and you were again dragging him along like a child did their favorite toy.

you did that a lot. pull him aside and experiment with whatever new reaction you had discovered that month, week, day, hour, watching his reactions with unabashed delight. and he let you. every time, without fail, he eagerly followed, knowing full well he’d end up rigid with lightning or with ice crystals studding his throat. it was worth it, though. you always fixed him up, squeezing his hand with a whispered ‘good job’ that never failed to make him dizzy.

it didn’t matter what you did to him. it never did. even when his mind was hazy with pain and he couldn’t quite stand on his own, he never regretted it. unconsciousness licked at the edges of his vision, burning black stains that lingered even after you stopped, but he never once hesitated.

if you asked him to jump, he’d ask how high. if you felt like holding him underwater, he’d cherish every bruise. to be kept as a toy was still to be kept.

[annasofthe11thdimension]

Truly the worst Vaugardian plays are the ones where nothing happens, as the characters spend the whole 2 hours sitting about as they talk at each other, all while the audience hasn't the slightest doubt they can be nowhere but hell.

But while hell is definitely other people...in your experience, a hell you're suck in alone, left the only wise one surrounded by fools, is not a better hell. Not better at all.

---------

Loop's wish has different wording, and this makes a few things a little different. Mostly it means the Researcher of the group is now looping, while Stardust remains blissfully ignorant. This is certainly the main difference noticed by Loop, who looks at the evidence before then before assuming they're to play stagehand to the Researcher solving of the mystery in record time.

But roles are tricky. Very nearly tricky as wishes.

Sponsor, stagehand, lead actor, audience, critic, fool, traveler, ex-scissor wizard turned star - how absurd for a human to contort themselves to fit a single 'role'! How cruel to for a person to find that no role left they can Change themselves enough to fit!

Ah, but there's no time to wallowing, not when you've one more wish to make - one more desperate GRAB at hope for the play ending, now the greatest ever cosmic joke has been replaced by a smarter actor then you could become even after a million loops.

One, two, THREE - breath in…and out, take a bow to the audience and ready yourself.

The show has once again begun ~ !

[sk-yay-sk]

I've gotta say I'm not a huge fan of putting Dragonese into the HTTYD movie franchise. The concept of a full-on dragon language they all share, that can just easily be translated into English, just really doesn't fit imo

I imagine they're a lot more like Orcas

There are universal ways to communicate with strangers of different species, like it's pretty easy to signal things like "i want to fight you" "i want you to leave" "it's dangerous here" "i'm in pain" etc. by just body language and vocalizations- but ways to communicate more complex ideas have to be developed and learned as unique dialects by different groups, especially flocks of dragons consisting of different species.

I imagine a terrible terror flock or a group of Speed Stingers have a lot of an easier time communicating with each other than a Thunderdrum and a whispering death do.

Dragons with their own dialects, cultures, and habits depending on location and group is really cool- I just don't think it should be a direct translation of how humans do these things, such as straight up language or mythologies or such.

[u3pxx]

my only criticism of your swap omens designs is that aziraphale lost his gay little bowtie 😔

[bad omens] that's a very good point, anon, but don't worry! a crow demon can have a minor outfit change every now and then! >:^P

[fungilicious]

Riptides by @platoapproved and @marbleflan

Chapter Two: Seattle, 1999

“Hands,” he says and Armand offers them up as if in worship. Louis slides the silk scarf from his shoulders, binding Armand’s wrists with it and securing them to the metal arm of the sofa. He could break free in an instant, of course. But he won’t.

“You’ve done so well tonight, Arun…just a little longer, I promise.”

chapter one art here

[graementality]

My Soul design + a little biblically accurate Heart, as a treat

And a tiny Harmonia bcus I'm working on a cool HMSW piece rn and needed to work on his design!!

[ssreeder]

Sreedy!!!!! I finally caught up!!! Now, I need to figure out what to do in the meantime. Do you have any fanfic recs (or anyone else who may end up seeing this)? I'm in the Atla (Zukka), Voltron(Klance), Good Omens, One Piece(Zosan), Marauders(Jegulus), and MHA Fandom (so far). But I think I'm open to reading about anything. I'm not really into one shots, so I'm more of a anything over 50k word count. Thank you, and I also still am loving the story 💛

OMG YOURE SO CAUGHT UP IM SO HAPPY!! (Im also a huge one piece fan so im excited that you’re excited for this long ass fic haha luckily we don’t have tooooo much longer)

DO I HAVE ANY FANFIC RECS?!?! hahah oh yeah I do…. I’ll give you my longfic recs (They’re all atla I don’t read much other fic except random one shots)

first off all, war games by @lovelyelbowleech is so fucking good and long and even though I’m not caught up on the second installment I just know it’s so fucking good and you’re going to love it I promise trust me it’s amazing. War games is angsty and smart and fun you’ll be so happy! (& hurt)

also my new obsession the Mercy of Magpies by @ranilla-bean is soooo good I wanna scream about it all day and night. The world building is so extensive and delicious and then there’s a ton of amazing art that goes with it I swear it’s so good! I would recommend this one to anyone even if they aren’t in the fandom.

ok another long fic I enjoy WHICH IS ONE OF MY LONG TERM FAVES (I’ll catch up I swear I love love love you TAOB my wonderful first long zukka fic…) is the Art of Burning by @hella1975 I lost sleep reading this! The author also has fics for MHA!! Just check out her ao3 she’s an incredible author will rock your world I promise!!

DOG TEETH is the only not atla fic I’ve never read that I will recommend because again, @hella1975 poured a part of her soul in it so it’s good… and really really PAINFUL.

ONE OF THE FICS THAT INSPIRED LIAB is the one & ONLYYYYY: Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_wonderful_thought (if you know their tumblr let me know!!) SO SO SO GOOD!!! Prison zuko! Isolated being disturbed & sokka being persistent and just such a good story!! One of my first true fanfic loves.

another gem I adore is actually one inspired by liab it’s La’s Wrath by anon and even though I can’t tag them if they read this just know this dark and tantalizing fic really takes an interesting perspective at what would have happened if the boys died and angsty but fun spirit shenanigans began. I love it so much it’s honestly my comfort fic haha

anything by @a-witch-in-endor in just mind blowing but: this is a gift (it comes with a price) rocked my brain chemistry in a way that was wonderful and intelligent and AHHH SO GOOD!!

Boomerangs and Rainbows is another AMAZING fic by someone who’s tumblr I don’t know but will totally add if I find out their tumblr! It’s a great fic I haven’t read in a while but I remember LOVING IT!

those are the longer fics that are more of that darker kind of angsty themes but I will do a few honorable mentions haha!

(not)according to plan by birdyhands (sorry I don’t have hour tumblr) but it was my very first zukka fic and I just fell in love with the potential of their relationship haha. If home is a place ,where do I go? By @maaaxx it’s currently being rereleased but I had the pleasure of reading the first chapter and fuck it I love me some sassy hakoda!

The Things I Would Do (To Steal Time With You) is the definition of a good long fic!! This one is by @erisenyo & it’s honestly such a relaxing time. Now don’t get me wrong! there’s a lot of tension both political and emotional communication happening but no one’s getting tortured so it’s a good breath of fresh air! The chapters are filled with so much wonderful world building I’m such a sucker for a good fleshed out world! This should keep you busy for a while!!!!! I’m so thankful that you’ve given me a chance to shout out to some of my fave fics and authors I wish I could scream about more of them!!! you’re such an amazing reader, I’m so thankful to have someone like you who takes the time to share your thoughts on not just ao3 but tumblr as well. All of these authors would be so lucky to have you as a reader I hope you enjoy!!!!

[ripplethepickle]

Hey so like. I’m not really big into shipping, at least with canon characters but like. Dude I fuckin love Discopop-

I could like go into the whole fucking rollercoaster of a relationship I’ve written for em in my head but the world isn’t ready for that so uh you just get a silli lil digital painting I did of them getting one of those cheesy kinds of family photos. You know, the kind where everyone’s in sweaters for some reason and they slap that photo on a Christmas card? Yea those ones. God… I love my middle-aged man yaoi…

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

*sighs* precious baby version of night and his mentally drained brother/dad got me dropping everything for a quick doodle<333

au by @dreemurr-skelememer

[triglycercule]

who asked for this. nobody. but unfortunately as a creator i actually have to CREATE for my au 😞😞😞😒😒😒 jk fashion au ink and swap designs ig,,,,,,

ink. ink. ink. she's totally not holding a gun to my head as i type this,,,,, because she CANT break the fourth wall ok she totally doesnt realize that she's forever gonna be stuck living life as a high schooler with no chance of ever graduating or progressing in life,,,,, BECAUSE THERE'S NO ANGST IN JK FASHION AU HAAHAHAH 😁😁😁😁 anyways she's soooo silly :3333 i'm not a connoisseur of anyone that's not the mtt (biased 🙂🙂🙂) but i wanted her to be silly but also a bit freakish,,,, ya!

what do the people think about INK???? featuring everyone in jk fashion au so far 😇😇

dream: "ink is another one of my close friends. she's been there for me when even nightmare couldn't, and i've supported her likewise. sometimes her head is in the clouds, so i send her texts to remind her of things like homework and such. maybe she forgets lunch sometimes, so swap and i give her a share of ours. and when ink wants to talk about anything she's thinking of, whether it's a painter's use of color or the reason we exist, i'm always open to listening. she's an amazing person, really."

nightmare: "ink. ah, that girl is an enigma, truly. somedays she supports me on my path to world domination, and other days she just laughs at me and says as if it were a fact that i would never achieve it! ugh... but despite my slight grievances, she's dream's friend, and i've grown fond of her. quite often, without me even requesting, she gifts me paintings. now, they may seem normal at first, but recently i've discovered a pattern with them. as if ink had peered into the mind of god and depicted it visually, the paintings assist me in handling dream appropriately. i must say, she's skilled as well..."

killer: "see now ink? she's my type of gal. we get along pretty well, hehe! we're on the same wavelength or something, i dunno. not like she can predict what i do, but i wouldn't be surprised if she could, but ink and i just click. we talk about all sorts of silly stuff; similar sense of humor, after all. ink and i can yap about different shows and movies we've watched and stuff, she gives really good insight on the more technical stuff like color psychology and framing, and she once drew me art for one of my big follower milestones on twitter! she's suuuuper cool, haha!"

dust: "okay, just... keep this between me and you, but i think ink has some sort of secret sixth sense? i dunno. nothing against her, she's a fun person. just that, uh... sometimes she just comes up to me when i least expect it and starts asking me about my progress on my writing. which is... confusing. i've only ever told killer and horror about my writing, so i don't know how she knows...?"

horror: "y'know, dust and i have a bit of a bet going on. all jokes and all, but i've got a feeling ink's pulling some sort of elaborate spying prank with how much she knows about us... dust doesn't think so. but i'm betting 20 bucks she does. like, once i was at a vending machine and the stupid thing didn't give me my goddamn candy bar, ugh. i had to stay cool. but then ink just pops out of nowhere, says its okay for me to drop the act and get mad around her, and then does some sort of vending machine trick to get the candy?? yeah, she's definitely a wizard or something. in a nice way, i guess."

NOW SWWAAAAAAPPP she's silly. i included the bit of her getting into trouble because of her good will SOLELY because swap gets bullied a lot in other aus 💀 (askerror, something new, etc,,,,,,) i also read a canon underswap doc??? SWAP IS SO SILLY!!!!! i cant really explain her personality through text i'd need to draw comics for her which uhhhh,,,,, (looks away)

THOUGHTS ON SWAP????

dream: "ah, swap! she's one of my dearest friends, i truly care for her deeply. out of sheer coincidence it seems, that she, ink, and i were chosen to be the star students of the school, but surprisingly it works out well... swap's truly a delight. she's a great motivator, and she's saved me from a few situations that would've ended up terribly had she not been there, hehe."

nightmare: "sometimes the world hates me. ah- well, what i meant was, the path of fate has me set on a predetermined path of struggle! and yet, when even i, the queen of negativity, could not stop my kin from slipping on a ridiculously placed banana peel and almost breaking her neck, swap was her knight in shining armor and caught her. needless to say, just as fate despises my bloodline, fate also has angels sent down from heaven. i do suppose swap is one of those, bless her soul."

killer: "heh, swap?? that girl's a riot! couple years ago i tried convincing her to show me some of those sick moves she learned at kickboxing, or karate, taekwondo, whatever... she broke my wrist, haha! but then i pulled a knife on her and then we both got in trouble. hah, good times, good times. no, i didn't stab her?! in fact, she's very good friends with mr. mew and the grumpen, thank you very much! a friend of my kitties is a friend of mine!"

dust: "she's nice. her type of energy is something you only see is like... a sugar-rushed ink, and killer normally. but anyways, swap's a good help around the school. she's a bit ridiculous every now and then with all her "the magnificent swap" and how she's a bit of a showoff, but whatever. aren't we all? anyways, at least the scavenger hunts she makes during school dances are fun."

horror: "swap is uh... she's something. gotta admit, she's pretty normal compared to some of the people at this school. but man... enthusiasm, much? eh, whatever. i'm not the type to complain when her burritos are to die for. we're partners in cooking class... let's just say, she carries us hard."

anyways jk cross and epic soon. sooner than you think heheheh

[undistortedworld]

read @evilhasnever's wonderful meryao series last week and meryao has not left my mind since, i am obsessed with him!!!! the mental image of him peeking menacingly out of the bathtub is especially important to me sdnjhfshj

bonus lil sketch under the cut :3

[thenamessparkplug]

I CAN POST THIS NOW THAT IVE FINISHED THE GAME!!!!!

chat lookouts was SO GOOD i HIGHLY RECOMMEND

its about two trans gay outlaw furries i do not know what more you could want

[nyaskitten]

This is such an insanely good scene To Me and we genuinely do not talk about it as often as we should even though it makes me so autistic... So I'm just gonna analyze it, looking mainly at Ras' manipulation tactics.

First, you have Ras, pissed off in an alley, angrily complaining about his woes, when suddenly Beatrix approaches him with an offer. (This scene will later be paralleled in the finale, but Jordana takes the initial role of Ras, and Ras takes the role of both Beatrix and himself, the Approacherrr and the Manipulatorrr.)

Ras stops, because he hears Beatrix's footsteps before her shadow appears on-screen, and based on the lighting the shadows appear to be pretty long, this scene occurs either early in the morning or late in the afternoon. We're gonna go with early in the morning, as a reverse parallel to Jordana's scene, which is pretty late at night, so already you got an additional parallel.

Ras turns around to see Beatrix approach, he gets her name right the first time, but then proceeds to ask if she could be Zeatrix instead in a slightly fake tone. She reacts angrily, of course, and Ras feigns surprise at getting it wrong, and bows respectfully, as a means of apology. This was the immediate start to his manipulation, in "confusing" their names, he was feeding into Beatrix's anger, which he continues to do in this scene, and then later on with Jordana, both in the s1 finale and in season 2!

When Beatrix says she's interested in Ras' offer of unlimited power, he seems like he may be genuinely shocked at her willingness to join him, however given the tone he takes on, this may be another tactic to further play into her anger, asking her why she'd do it so she could explain, and just get even angrier.

When Beatrix vents about how Zeatrix's birth robbed her of elemental power and Levo's father, Ras says elemental power is a cheat, and someone who may not deserve it gets it anyway, this time wearing his manipulation on his face with a smirk, he Wants her angry, he wants her rage.

Ras then fakes a scoff and waves his hand around, asking a question he likely already knew the answer to, about Zeatrix being the future Empress of Imperium, and getting Beatrix even Madder as she explains she will be left with nothing, while Zeatrix gets everything.

Ras smirks yet again, and claims it to be a waste of her "true potential." Now, I have made a post about this specific line before (which I can no longer find) but basically, I think him putting emphasis on the "true potential" is Also meant ot anger her. Why?

Aside from real-world usage, in Ninjago, ones True Potential is, as we all know, them unlocking their element properly, so in saying it's a "waste of her True Potential," it's like Ras wants to rub in the fact that she lacks powers, that she can never Have that moment like her sister, where she finally figures out what holds her back, and unlocks her powers, because she's powerless.

Beatrix asks Ras to help her in seizing the throne, offering him the resources he needs to capture a Source Dragon, and in response, Ras bows to her, as he did earlier, and he goes "As you wish, Empress Beatrix," and he smiles yet again, he's succeeded, he's manipulated Beatrix, he's gotten her angry enough that she's willing to trust him, and murder her father to seize control.

Everything Ras did in this scene was to feed into her anger, hell, the way he glances at her at the end of the cold open, part of me thinks he Knew she was gonna follow, maybe he was anticipating it, hence, the glance. Ras was angry only until he needed to manipulate, in which case he became this instigating force, there to listen to Beatrix's rage, and make her even worse.

[losersimonriley]

At the tail end of a long, grueling mission that had them run around half of Eastern Europe, Laswell had given Ghost and Soap three days of leave before they'd be flying back home. She'd even booked them a hotel in a tiny spa town for two nights. Yet even though they arrived early in the day, Soap was still exhausted enough from the mission to just let Ghost handle the check in.

Something was off, though, when Ghost returned to him. He could tell by the square set of his shoulders and the slight frown on his brows. Even without his usual balaclava, his hood and face mask hid most of Ghost's expressions from inexperienced viewers.

"Good news: Laswell's paying for two dinners each at the in house restaurant. It's supposedly very good," Ghost reported.

"And the bad news?"

Ghost subtly shifted his weight. "Only had rooms with double beds left."

"You mind sharing?" Soap raised his eyebrows.

"Nah. Thought you might."

"Nah. Let's get up to our room then. I'm right knackered from the trip."

Ghost rolled his eyes at the phrasing, but didn't comment on it. When Soap punched his shoulder to signal go time, he obediently followed to the elevator.

As forewarned, the room only had one bed. But at least it was the softest, most cloud like bed Soap'd ever had the pleasure of sitting on. He wanted to immediately lie down and never get up. First things first, though.

"Mind if I take the first shower?"

Ghost shrugged. "Feel free. Thought I'd have a look around town. Find the spa. Try the public fountains. Look at the local attractions. Tourist shite."

"Have fun. I'll cover home base while you're out on recon, then."

Ghost huffed out a small laugh as he turned to leave the room.

Soap hopped into the shower for a quick wash, dried himself off with extremely fluffy towels and then got himself comfortable in the bed. He'd planned on a quick nap, but when he woke up again, it was because someone had chucked a paper bag at his head. It smelled deliciously like baked goods.

"Got you lunch, Sleeping Beauty."

"I'd be so mad at you for waking me like that," Soap said as he sat up and bit into the bun that'd smacked him in the ear. "If this weren't so good."

"Up for an afternoon trying all the healing springs? The park is twenty minutes from here and has at least ten different fountains with different properties. Maybe one can cure stupid."

"Maybe one can cure being a dick."

"You'll never know."

They spent the afternoon together trying the water from every single fountain in the park. It had clearly been built sometime in the nineteenth century, Soap pointed out, citing the architecture and decorations. The water was various kinds of salty. More than half the fountains were claimed to have uranium in the water, a fact that led both Ghost and Soap to come up with more and more outrageous movie mutations caused by too much of the spa water. Dinner at the hotel's restaurant was fantastic. The chef didn't skimp on the fat, nor on the herbs and spices.

Soap had almost forgotten about the bed in their room by the time they got ready for bed. "I can still sleep on the floor, LT."

"Why?"

"Dunno." Soap shrugged. "Thought it might be weird to you."

"'s not." Ghost took off his boots, stripped down to his undershirt and briefs before he slipped under the covers. "Fuck. 's like a cloud in here."

Quickly, before either of them could change their mine, Soap undressed and got into bed as well. His hammering heart forced him to keep a fair distance between himself and Ghost.

"Figured you'd be a cuddler," Ghost mused.

"That an offer?"

"Mh." Under the covers, Ghost reached out to pull Soap closer to him. "Don't mind if it's you."

Soap swallowed. He let himself be pulled against Ghost, head resting on a broad chest, hand over a heart that was beating it's staccato rhythm in tandem with Soap's own.

"G'night, Simon," Soap whispered, not trusting his mouth to say more.

"Night, Johnny."

When he woke up the next morning with his Johnny sprawled out on top of him, with his breath hot against his bare neck, Ghost was immensely glad he'd convinced the hotel clerk to give them a room with a double bed. Even if it was just for one more night, he'd treasure this closeness for the rest of his life.

This felt like getting tucked into a comfy warm hotel bed of my very own <3 I hope everyone else enjoys this cloud bed as much as I do god BLESS

[nullbutler]

@cosmiclion. Hiiii sets this down

[wingsofhcpe]

I'm kinda on the fence about Yennefer & Tissaia as a ship (I don't hate it but I feel way more drawn to the mother-daughter relationship established in s3) but I find it really cute and thematically fitting that their ship name, Yennaia, looks a lot like the greek feminine adjective for "brave".

(ofc in greek the ai-αί sound is more like "eh" and that in "Tissaia" it's something between that and "ay/ey" but visually it looks the exact same, so. Fun coincidence.)