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yourlocalstranger123 · 1 year ago

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Tignari & Cyno

Reader as kind of a sugar daddy/mommy [the atmosphere while typing this is so fcking awkward 🥲]

Warning:NSFW,

Apologies advanced: I'm sorry if you didn't want to use a strap, but right now, I'm not in the mood or have enough energy to write a separate one for F! reader and also F! Reader strap, it has fake cum as she has a button to release it.

This is the backup writing for you to enjoy since im going to take like more than a week to write the flirty villain [kinda?], Creator writing.

Characters: Tignari & Cyno.

Content/parts:

First: crack with sugar daddy/mommy reader. [Kinda?]

—NSFW—

(1.) Cyno's punishment [you're here!]

(2.) Cyno with tignari and care taker Reader. (Or nurse/doctor reader)

(3.) Tignari aphrodisiac mushroom

(4.) Tignari's heat.

(5.) Cyno & tignari x Eremite Reader

Note for content: cyno & tignari x Eremite reader. Ik, it sounds random, but the idea from it was: HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE EREMITES? THEY. ARE. H0T. 😳 YOU CANT SAY NO, THEY AREEEE. PLEASEE. I WOULD LITTERALLY GO ON MY KNEES FOR THEM—

[That what my friend told me to put. Honestly, I would do the same...]

— ○ —○ — ○ —○ — ○ —○ — ○ —○ — ○ —○ — ○ —

Tignari + Cyno

Cyno litterally makes 10x more jokes than usual around you. Even though it doesn't really make you laugh, you think it's enjoyable. While Tignari....not so much- Which he is glad at. Oh, his reaction is so cute and funny when you gave him limited edition cards. Except when he said that he'll pay for it even though it's a gift...

"This...is for me? W- wait! I'll pay you 1 million mora tor these!"

"Cyno. It's a gi—"

"2 million mora?"

"...." *friendly but firm holding of his shoulders*

"It's. a. gift."

"..."

"2 million, 500 thousand mora—?"

"Cyno, if you keep talking about giving me mora for a damn gift, I will literally go around Teyvat and even sell my f-cking soul to get more."

"Yes ma'am/sir-" *feeling shivers down his spine. Although....why does he feel hard down there—*

Dang. He made sure he'll never make you mad. Tignari is just mentally slapping himself on the forehead at this. You still give him the limited edition cards everytime it was released.

Tignari always thanked you for your kindness for playing supplies to do what he needs as a forest watcher. Although you still pay and give him stuff even though he has more than enough already....

"Ah, [name]. I already have more than enough. Thanks for offering though—"

"Accept. It."

Tignari with trembling hands as he accepts your forceful gift. Yeah, he ain't going to be on your bad or evil side. Hope to the archons that Cyno doesn't go too far.

....At least he can spoil himself with your gifts.

~`♡°•—~`♡°•—NSFW—~`♡°•—~`♡°•

(1.)

CYNO'S PUNISHMENT

"Hah....how many times have I told you, don't touch yourself?"

Cyno whined. He struggled trying to get free from the ropes and touch you. "M' sorryy!" and "Please!" Comes out of his mouth.

"If you keep whining with that mouth of yours, I'll gag it."

Cyno immediately shuts up when you say that as your hand tightens around his thigh. Letting out a whimper as a plea.

"First, you went home injured without even stopping to get a doctor or even at Tignari's. His house is way closer! And now you're breaking our rules? Touching yourself without permission. Now that's not what good boys do."

Cyno whined, wanting to beg for your mercy and forgiveness, but you didn't let him. He choked on a moan as he felt your knee rubbing against his crotch.

"Aren't you enjoying this too much? Maybe I shouldn't touch you for a whole week...."

Cyno cried a plea to keep touching him. He leaned onto your shoulder, sobbing in pleasure as it overwhelmed him.

Suddenly, Tignari came in. He paused as he saw the sight of Cyno tied up on your bed, and you pinning Cyno down on it. You turned around seeing tignari cover his drooling mouth as his ears slightly tilted downwards. His face is red as his ears twitched.

Tignari just stands there, watching the lewd scene of Cyno panting as he begs to have your touch. Tignari snapped out of his thoughts when you told him to come here. He kneeled beside you, gripping his pants in hopes you don't know. You rub his ears as he softly moans. Biting his lips to refrain the noise further but failing. His ears twitched when he saw Cyno already looked fucked out when you finally start stroking him as you finger him, kissing his prostate. You can feel his hole tightening and his cock twitching for attention, knowing that he'll cum.

"P- please? Wan- Na- cUuM!!"

Tignari tried helping him get over the edge, but you stopped him by tugging his tail, which maid him yelp as pre-cum sticks onto his pants. Cyno's eyes shot wide open as you stopped your movement, edging him. He squirmed as he clenched around nothing. He started sobbing, spreading his arms open and closing and opening his hands, wanting you to come over to him and touching him :(

He was laid down on the bed as Tignari got on top of him. Leaning in to kiss him. You let what Tignari wishes and desires to do with Cyno as you watch in amusement. Cyno pants in heavy blush, silently whining at Tignari to touch him already. Tignari easily gave in his pleading, taking off his pants and undergarments. Pumping both of their cocks.

Tignari's ears twitched as the fully tilted downwards. Cyno's legs started to tremble as he covered his mouth. They both rolled their eyes, saliva running down their chin as they both looked fucked out. Tignari finally fell on Cyno as his body gave up, supporting him.

Cyno flinched when he felt a cold medal going into his hole. He moaned into the sensation as he squirmed. It was a butt plug. You started fingering tignari as he whined but didn't stop you. Instead, he slowly tried thrusting back to make you go deeper as his head was thrown back when he felt your fingers abusing his prostate.

"Ngh— [name]...! Stop teasing me and put it in already– UgAhhH~!"

He felt his mind gone blank when you started pistoling his hole. He bit Cyno's shoulder to refrain his desperate moans, leaving a mark. Cyno soon felt pleasure overridden pain, whimpering in pleasure. Cyno watches everything drowsily with lust as he gets hard again. He kissed Tignari, making out with him.

"Mnm~ ah!! W- wait, slow down! I'm cuMinG!"

He came, ears twitching as Cyno grabs him and kisses him. The last string snapped when Tignari clenched around you, making you cum in him as he whined from being do full

F! Reader: You decided to finally give him his little reward [unlike Cyno, who broke the rule] pressing the button as Tignari drooled at the feeling of being so full

You put Tignari on the other side of the bed. Cyno starts to kneel on his knees, obediently waiting for you. He laid his head on your legs, eyes practically saying that he wants to have his turn to be ruined and fucked.

He teased you and tried to rile you up by showing the butt plug you put in him.

"Please....I've been good, haven't I?"

Pouting for your attention. You pretended to be thinking about it even though you'll give him a reward anyway.

I- I'll ride you! Pleasee? I just want you in me!!"

And here he is, riding you like it's the last time. He felt so full of you, touching the bulge that was caused by you, made him closer to the edge. You put your hands on his hips, helping him get to his climax as he cries a silent scream. He flopped onto your chest as he snores and slept soundly. You should probably wash them early in the morning, but for now, they will sleepily cuddle you.

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cowboythighs · 1 year ago

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When Wayne took Eddie in, his biggest worry was that he was going to screw the poor kid up even more than his parents already had. After all, what did he know about taking care of a kid? How would he know what his nephew didn’t know- what Wayne needed to teach him? And how was he going to manage raising a whole little human and provide for them both? But to his surprise, Wayne soon found out that Eddie was shockingly self-sufficient. That he’d had to learn how to cook and clean and do laundry for himself, because his parents were too caught up in themselves and their own issues to take care of him.

Wayne’s momentary relief that he wasn’t starting from ground zero was soon replaced by a level of resentment towards Eddie’s parents. It wasn’t fair that Eddie had been forced to rely on himself so much. It hurt Wayne to see someone so young worrying the way he did about not using too much water; hurt watching Eddie silently going behind Wayne to turn off unused lights because he worried about the bills being too high to pay.

When he figured out Eddie's lemonade stand wasn’t set up to fund a new comic or toy, but rather to try and pay his share for room and board, Wayne took Eddie to the local thrift store and headed straight for the toys section. He was stern when he told Eddie to keep his money, and that they were not leaving until Eddie had an armful of his own toys because Wayne was determined to make sure Eddie had the chance to be a kid.

He watched as Eddie slowly pursued through the selection of toys- inspecting them carefully. When Wayne caught on that Eddie was looking at the price tags he gently admonished him; told him these are used toys; they’re cheap enough and that Eddie didn’t have to worry about money with him.

Eddie tried to argue, insisted that he knows how this goes and appreciates the thought, he really does think it’s nice that Uncle Wayne wants him to have fun stuff to play with, but he knew that just because they have money now it didn’t mean they won’t somehow come up short later, and how he’d much rather have heat than a GI Joe.

Wayne tried to be patient, to not to be as gruff as was his nature as he told Eddie “I may not be your daddy, but you're my boy and I’m gonna take care of you”. Wayne told him it was time to stop fussing and enjoy being a kid. Wayne allowed himself a smile when Eddie relented and picked out a handful of toys.

When they passed the book display as they walked towards the register Wayne stopped. “You like readin’?'' he asks. Eddie looks longingly at the books but only shrugs.

“Don’t know, never had any books to read”. Eddie says it like it doesn’t matter, but his face betrays him.

“They had books in school, didn’t they?” Wayne asked. Eddie just gave another shrug.

“Guess so. I didn't get to go to school very often. Mom and dad were almost always too tired or too sick in the mornings to take me. and we moved around a lot. When we lived close I could walk to school by myself as long as I had clean clothes. If you go to school dirty, teachers get too nosey," Eddie stated like it was common knowledge, “and then they call your parents and you get in trouble and have to move again. But mostly it was too far to walk so I couldn’t go anyways.”

Wayne’s heart felt like it was breaking anew with each detail of casual neglect his nephew had to endure. It wasn’t right for a kid so young to have gone through so much and be so nonchalant about it. Making up his mind he directed Eddie over to the books and told him he can have whatever he wants. There's a slim selection of children’s books to choose from, but it's a place to start.

Wayne watched Eddie's eyes as they kept wandering back to a boxed set with dragons and wizards on the spine. Wayne picked up the set of the Lord of the Rings books without a word and took the set up to the register with Eddie trailing behind. They were far too advanced for a kid his age, especially one as far behind as Eddie, but Wayne decided he would read to him every night. would read aloud the stories of Bilbo and Frodo and Middle Earth and watch Eddie's love for learning grow.

Wayne was proud when time passed and Eddie started leaving dirty dishes in the sink and letting his room get messy. He didn’t mind when Eddie took a long shower or stayed up late writing his own stories. Wasn’t disappointed when he got held back in school, or spent his free time playing games of make believe with his friends. Because he knew better than anyone that Eddie had a rough start in life and had been playing catch up for a long while. And besides, it gave him a chance to be a kid just a little longer, and there was nothing Wayne wanted more than that.

#cw child neglect #cowboythighs #wayne munson #eddie munson #ficlet #crossposted (and slightly edited) from my twt #also ik the books pictured aren’t the lotr trilogy but i mentioned dragons on the spine and this is the closest i could find so we’re using #✨imagination ✨

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satureja13 · 1 month ago

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Before the Boys could even discuss if they should accept Albaleyh's offer and rescue B.D to get her ship to hunt down Tiny Can, she already has to leave. They agreed to contact her later, once they'd made their decision. Rescueing B.D would cost them additional time they don't have (Tiny Can has a massive lead over them already. And who knows how and when they'd eventually be able to free B.D) - but without a ship they wouldn't go anywhere anyway... Rubyn hugged Albaleyh goodbye and she left. Sai: "Too bad she couldn't wait. As an Ambassador she must be very busy, I guess." Rubyn sighed: "She is. And she also has to care for the kids." Sai didn't expect this: "They have kids?"

When Albaleyh told their story, she talked of B.D as one of her crew. Sure, she also mentioned they had a 'some' going on, but she was kind of distanced when she talked about him. Maybe it was hard for her to talk about it? So she tried to act professional? Rubyn: "Ah no, they are not Albaleyh's kids, just B.D's. They have nowhere else to go since their father is in jail, so Albaleyh cares for them." Well, if any of them had any doubts if they should accept the offer - they fizzled out with this revelation. The poor kids! Jack can't even imagine how B.D must feel. If he and Kiyoshi had kids and... Ouh, where are these thoughts now coming from? ö.Ö' (TMI: In fact adult Jack and Kiyoshi do have kids - 4 of them :3 see end of the post.)

To make them feel even worse, Rubyn showed them some pics of B.D and his kids Seon Mi and Joon Gi. Taken on happier days... Seems the two had accompanied Albaleyh and B.D on their odyssey to find the lost crew member... They'd even been right here at Mos Verdantis.

Sai felt ashamed that they were only thinking of themselves and their own problems - even though their core mission was to help other creatures in need. And Sai had to just turn around and look in the eyes of his friends to see they felt the same way. And then he knew exactly what to do. So he quickly ran after Albaleyh to tell her they'd do anything in their powers to help her and get the kids' father back. (By the way she walks, Albaleyh seems quite confident that the Boys would eventually agree to get B.D out of the fangs of the First Order ^^')

Sai: "Ambassador! Wait!"

Albaleyh was happy to hear that the Boys were going to help her. There were just a few little matters to be clarified. Sai: "So the ship will be for free, if I understood that right, but what about the costs for the crew and the fuel?" Albaleyh: "Ah, don't worry. Even though the ship is old and quite big, I had the engine upgraded and it runs with only a few dilithium crystals per parsec, they can be found anywhere and they are also quite cheap. The most expensive thing about this ship are the immense dock charges since it's so huge. So I'm happy - and it's cheaper - when she's out and about :3 And for the crew: you are the crew! ^^' The ship has an advanced autopilot and it's quite easy to work with. Rubyn will show you how and teach you everything else you need to know. You'll only have to cover your expenses, food and stuff. I really have to get going now. Thank you so much!"

And, as promised, here are some pics of the kids of adult Kiyoshi and Jack from our other stories. vltr: George (the eldest), adult Jack, Anthony (the second youngest), Logan (the second oldest, who fell in love with Giga/Saiwa in this story -> Love Hurts) and Nina, the youngest)

You can read more of them in this (unfinished) story -> The Family Business

They have the genetics of Jack and their mothers, I didn't know by then that Kiyoshi was the father. (And that's the reason why I still have so much fun telling their stories, because there's still so much I don't know about them.) But George, Logan and Anthony are a lot like Kiyoshi. And little Nina is so teenage Jack hahaha.

And here they are at Callahan Mansion with adult Giga/Saiwa, Guidry and their Au Pair Lucy (granddaughter of Dtui, Kiyoshi's mentor)

'I have climbed highest mountains I have run through the fields Only to be with you Only to be with you I have run I have crawled I have scaled these city walls These city walls Only to be with you

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for'

I still haven't found what I'm looking for - U2

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28

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thlayli-ra · 4 months ago

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A Sinner at Heart

AO3 Version Here

Characters - LA Knight, Nick Aldis

Pairing - LA Knight/Nick Aldis

AU - Valetverse (created by Syreina)

Rating - Mature (18+ only!)

Warnings - Valets and Dominants, Sub/Dom Undertones, Flirting, Male Slash, Stripping, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, No Prep, Sex for Favours

Words - ~4,500 words

Background Info - In a world where women no longer exist, society is split into two; dominants (the ruling class) and valets (who possess the 'inualidus chromosome' that allows them to bear children). Stripped of basic human rights, valets are expected to be entirely subservient to the dominants that claim them and few are prized higher than the valets of the WWE.

Summary - LA Knight knows exactly what he wants - and he's not afraid to stoop to one of his old tricks to get it!

For @stripeydani - Enjoy! 😘

LA Knight was a valet on a mission. He knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how he was going to get it.

It just meant bending his newfound morals a little bit. Fall back on one of his old tricks. A well-tried-and-tested trick, it should be pointed out.

Making his way through the backstage area, he strode up to Nick Aldis' office door and lingered there a second or two. This wasn't a time for barging in and making demands. Men like Aldis preferred things done a certain way, a professional way. Which was why he'd planned it all out in advance, down to the finest detail.

He'd called Aldis' PA to make the appointment days ago, early in the afternoon to avoid any undesirables butting in on his time and had made sure he arrived early. As temped as he'd been to strut in wearing only his gear, he'd opted for a more conservative look - his signature vest, yellow shirt (with the sleeves cut off, of course - he was going for modest here, not prudish!) and, to finish off the look, the tightest pair of jeans he owned.

The denim was practically creaking against his pert, round ass as he checked himself over one last time. Neatly trimmed hair and beard? Check! A thin dusting of baby oil on his exposed arms (just enough to make him glisten without looking like a walking GI Joe doll)? Check! And, most important of all, his sunglasses, to hide the greatest weapon in his arsenal, his big baby blues, until he needed to unleash them with a dramatic flourish.

Check and double check!

He was ready! And judging from the hands on his watch, he was right on time.

He rapped his knuckles against the door and after a beat, a deep voice beckoned him inside.

'Mr Aldis?' Knight enquired politely as he stepped into the office, closing the door carefully behind him.

The Smackdown general manager glanced up from his paperwork, looking as dashing as ever in his three-piece suit with his neatly coiffured hair and five o' clock shadow on his chin. 'Thought we already talked about this, Eli,' he said, getting up from his desk to offer his hand to the valet, showcasing his impressive size. Tall and broad, a classic dominant build. Knight liked them big. 'Call me Nick.'

'And I thought we already talked about how it's LA now,' Knight replied with a cheeky grin, accepting the dominant's hand and giving it a firm shake. He wasn't offended by the mistake - the pair had known each other for years, from back when they'd both worked in the indies and went by different names. Sometimes, even Knight's own husband, Bobby Lashley, called him by his old moniker in bed, probably because his little infatuation with the boastful valet had started back then. But Knight didn't care; so long as it was his name he cried out as he came.

The GM gave a small laugh. 'Of course, my apologies. Please, take a seat.' He motioned to the chair but Knight instead chose to perch himself on the edge of the GM's desk. Either the dominant didn't notice or didn't mind as he settled back into his desk chair. 'How can I help you today... LA?'

The valet took note of the way Nick put emphasis on his name. It sent shivers down his spine. He'd always been a sucker for an accent. Scottish, especially. There was something extra filthy about his ex Drew's rugged intonation between the sheets. Same with Joe Hendry, one of the few valets he'd fooled around with, with his softer but no less robust dialect, the thought of which made him weak at the knees.

But English... oh, he appreciated an English accent! Especially those that filled every word with bewitching charm. Like Lord Regal. Like Wade Barrett.

Like Nick Aldis!

'I think you already know why I'm here?' Knight said, smiling sweetly at the GM.

Nick lowered his head with a sigh and tapped the butt of his fountain pen against his desk. 'If you're looking for Logan Paul then he's not here tonight.'

'Well, well, what a surprise!' Knight scoffed. 'What's he doin' this time? Filming another stupid video? Tiring out some washed-up old-timer in the boxing ring? Losing to a four year old in the World Tiddlywinks Championships?' Nick looked away to hide the mirth on his face. 'You know, over on the red brand, they've got Sami Zayn defending that IC title week-in-and-week-out against some of the biggest, most dangerous dominants on the roster. Our Undisputed Champion, Cody Rhodes, is here for every taping and every live show and every PLE and all the press in between.'

Nick gave a nod, seeing Knight's point. Because for once, he had a point! Now, he only had to add himself into the equation.

'And you've got a guy like me turning up, putting my body on the line, practically breaking myself in half on ladders then showing up for work on Friday. Doesn't matter that I'm all banged up, doesn't matter I've got bruises on my pretty face, I'm here. Not swaggering in whenever I damn well feel like it, like our so-called 'US Champion'. You ask me, he's more a BS Champion.'

'Clever,' Nick teased. 'How long did it take you to come up with that one?'

'Rolled off my tongue right now as a matter of fact,' Knight replied, smugly. The GM was taking the bait nicely but Knight was in no rush to hook him in just yet. Where was the fun in that? 'Look, I've already chased this dummy around the block, even went as far as going to his damn house and enjoyed a little dip in his pool-'

'Yes, and we spoke about that,' Nick cut in, his tone a warning for the valet.

'Well if I can't go knocking on his door again then what must I do to get this dummy in the ring? I've been in Elimination Chambers and King of the Ring tournaments and Money in the Bank matches, I beat AJ Styles one-two-three at Wrestlemania, hell, I've gone toe-to-toe with the Head of the Table himself, Roman Reigns and came within a whisker of becoming the Undisputed WWE Champion so what else?'

Knight shuffled around the desk until he was sat on Nick's side, directly facing the dominant who was reclining back in his desk chair. Without a hint of subtlety, the GM's eyes travelled down to ogle Knight between his open legs, his generous bulge straining against the tight denim. That's it. Have a good look. You play your cards right you might even get more intimately acquainted.

'You want me to go out there tonight and have another triple threat match for the number one contendership? Then fine, if you all need me to prove myself again, I've got my gear with me. Just let me go put on my boots and trunks and I'll-

'Will you be wearing anything under those little red trunks of yours this time?' Nick's eyes sparkled cheekily up at the valet, who couldn't help but cough out a hearty laugh, a wide grin breaking his lips.

Oh, this is just too damn easy!

Leaning closer, Knight peeked over the rim of his sunglasses. 'You saw that, huh?'

'Everybody saw it!' Nick quirked his eyebrows.

'Did you like it?' The grin travelled up Knight's cheek. 'Like how baby-smooth I keep myself down there?'

Nick said nothing but kept his mischievous eyes on the valet.

'Hey, you're in charge. You wanna see me rolled up like a pretzel while my opponent get all handsy with my smalls, you just gotta make the call.'

Nick cleared his throat and sat up straight, pretending to get back to work. 'Friendly reminder that this is a family show LA, so keep the family jewels covered up in the future.'

'Sure thing,' Knight said. He wasn't fooled by the sudden lack of interest; the dominant just wanted to remind Knight that he was the one in charge here. And hey, if he needed his ego massaged, then Knight was more than happy to oil up his hands. 'Is this appropriate enough, Boss?'

'Is what appropriate enough?' Nick asked, scribbling away on his paperwork.

'What I'm wearing right now?' Knight nudged his knee in closer towards the GM, encroaching on the form he was trying to fill. The question hung in the air. The hand holding the fountain pen stopped, frozen in space.

But Knight could see Nick's eyes lingering on his beefy thigh, admiring every curve and groove. The valet stayed silent and waited, letting the mouse make the next move.

Slowly, Nick's hand slinked its way across the desktop towards the offending limb. Scaling the hard face of his knee, the hand smoothed its way up and up, fingers splayed, eventually coming to halt at the peak of Knight's inner thigh, his pinkie finger wedging itself into the groove at his pelvis to nuzzle against his bulge. The valet took in a small, shuddering gasp. A beautifully executed piece of acting that worked perfectly to please the GM.

'Lashley-'

'We have an agreement. He can keep this wild mare but he can't tame me. I've got to run free.'

Nick wasn't looking at him. Both his eyes and hands were too occupied with the prize waiting for them between the valet's legs.

'What is it you're wanting here, exactly LA?'

'A shot at the US title,' Knight said with ease, 'at Summerslam.'

The dominant gave a nod of his head, considering the demand. 'Go lock the door.'

Knight twisted around to spy the office door, taking the opportunity to push out his chest and shoulders. 'Already got it on my way in.'

Nick huffed a laugh. 'You were rather sure of getting your own way, weren't you?'

'I always do,' the valet tilted his chin back, arrogantly.

'Take your shirt off!'

'Yes, Boss.'

Shucking off his vest and muscle tee, Knight tossed them to the floor by which time, Nick had put down his pen and pushed back his desk-chair. Hooking a hand under each of Knight's thighs, he coaxed the valet down onto his lap and admired the tanned, chiselled muscle on display. Stroking a hand over one Herculean pec and up his collarbone, he smoothed along a broad shoulder then up the side of the valet's strong neck, teasing Knight's bearded cheek with the back of his fingers. A fingertip caught the bridge of Knight's sunglasses and eased them down his nose slightly, revealing the pretty blues underneath.

'Want them off, Boss?' Knight asked.

'No.'

The hand grabbed Knight's bristled chin and pulled him close, locking their lips together. Their tongues sloppily clashed, swirling around to explore the deepest crevices of each other's mouths, all while Nick kept a firm grip on Knight's jaw.

Even when they finally pulled back for a breath, each man's chests starting to heave a little heavier, that strong hand refused to let go. Ensuring that those slivers of sea breeze watched the GM as his other hand went to his throat to loosen the knot of his tie and undo the top button of his shirt. Knight drew in his bottom lip, following the hand as it trailed down to unfasten the buttons of Nick's waistcoat next, lightly pushing the fine fabric apart. The hand on his chin angled down, leading its captive audience to witness the dominant unbuckling his leather belt.

But there, the game stopped.

Knight realised it was his turn.

He moved his hands towards Nick's waist and unfastened the final button and zipper on his suit pants, digging one hand in to release the GM's dick, already semi-hard and keen. The thumb on Knight's chin stroked back and forth tantalisingly.

'Well...?' Nick asked, cocking an eyebrow at the valet.

'I think I can help with that, Boss.' One hand wrapped around the dominant's shaft, the other coerced his legs apart so that he could slip down between them. Once positioned on his knees, Knight shuffled in close, rolling his tongue over his lips to moisten him. Right before he took it into his mouth, he pumped his hand up the entire length, squeezing right at the tip until the blood pooled and turned the skin a delicious dark red.

Nick growled when the valet engulfed the entire head into his mouth in one gulp, craning his neck back in the early throes of pleasure when lips tightened around the sensitive skin and began to suck. Knight's soft, wet tongue entered the fray, slurping up the underside of his cock, teasing the bump where his foreskin crinkled against his shaft.

'Hmmph!' the dominant's fist flew up to his mouth but didn't stifle the grunt in time, as Knight's tongue swirled around his cock head. The cheeky tip honed in on the eye, drawing circles around it before attacking, boring its way in. The GM's chin shot up, lips pulling back in a barely controlled snarl.

From down below, Knight gazed up over the rim of his sunglasses, eyes sparkling with wickedness. Man, oh man, did he enjoy watching these big, brutish men fall apart like a cheap condom under his power. And he'd barely even touched the guy yet. While he continued teasing the head, he used one free hand to stroke up and down the barrel in slow, tight motions while the other fondled his balls, each sensation hitting a sweet spot for the GM as evidenced by the swelling implement between Knight's hollow cheeks.

Pumping his fist all the way to the base, the valet went for seconds, swallowing more of the dominant down. In his peripheral vision, he could see both sets of Nick's fingernails digging into the leather arms of his desk-chair and felt a pang of indignation that he was not the recipient of those talons. Claw my shoulders, claw my back, grab me by my hair! Come on, you're a dominant. Live up to it!

He retaliated by sucking. Hard and slow. Taking in more and more until he could feel it prod the back of his throat. Fortunately by now, Knight was a master of his gag reflex and opened his throat up to welcome the rest of the dominant in, guzzling him down until his nose nestled in the course brown hair at the base of his dick.

He looked up again. Nick was looking right at him. Mouth agape, cheeks flushed, a bead of sweat started to slide down his glistening brow. Whose game is it now? Knight inwardly chuckled, as he gazed up over his sunglasses which were pressed tight into the crook of Nick's thighs, poking into the soft flesh on either side while his blue eyes shimmered with all the wonder of a disciple admiring their saint.

Knight gave a wink. And hummed.

Nick tossed his head back, a deep, throaty whine spitting through his gritted teeth.

Knight kept moving, pulling back to let the rock solid cock slip from his mouth then ramming it back in again, all while his fingers kneaded Nick's balls and his sunglasses prodded into his inner thigh. Each thrust and pull and squeeze and prong released a barrage of fresh curses and indecipherable noises from the GM's lips. His fingernails started to shred through the leather on the arms of his chair.

The jealousy became too much and Knight grabbed one of the offending hands and clamped it down on his head, hissing when they twisted into his dark curls harshly. A pleasant sting. The dominant's other hand moved on its own accord to snake around the back of Knight's head, brushing back and forth along the feathery bristles where he had newly shorn it.

The pressure in Knight's mouth was becoming too much. The GM was about to burst his load any second, disappointing the valet who was having far too much fun.

Fortunately, the dominant had other plans. The hand in Knight's hair gripped tightly, yanking him back and eventually off of his painfully throbbing dick with a loud, wet pop. The valet's wet chin was grabbed again and jerked skyward, two pairs of glazed eyes tried to focus on one another through the haze.

'No...' the Englishman slurred out breathlessly. 'Up.'

Knight's legs were weak, wobbling at the knees but he managed to struggle up to his feet. Desperate fingers pawed at the waistband of his super tight jeans, practically tearing the denim off of his thick thighs.

Nick hitched a breath, spying the special treat Knight had hidden for him under his pants.

He wasn't wearing any underwear!

'Oops! Guess I didn't learn my lesson from last time, Boss,' he said coyly, thrusting his hips forward to emphasise the meaty appendage between his legs, already a deep pink and starting to swell. Dipping his head, Knight peeked over the rim of his sunglasses, feigning all the innocence of a young valet on his claiming night. 'You gonna punish me?'

The loaded question hung in the air, charging the atmosphere.

Until Nick answered with a growl. Snaring the valet in his mighty grip, he dragged him back onto his lap. Lathering up his fingers with the mess of pre-cum and spit from his cock, he slid them under Knight when the valet interrupted him.

'Only good boys get prepped,' he smirked, 'and I aint a good boy.'

The GM stared viciously at the valet, heaving breaths whistling through his teeth. 'No. I suppose you're not!'

The fingers quickly forgot their mission and instead latched onto Knight's flanks, smearing their mess onto his hip. Together, they lifted the valet up until his dry hole lined with Nick's sopping wet dick. Knight pushed down hard, trying to break the seal quickly. He was certain he'd lubricated the GM enough for it to slip right in but it still met plenty of resistance, making him wince loudly at the burn, feeling every inch as it widened him up.

But damn! Did it feel good!

Bobby never fucked him raw. Said it was for the valet's own welfare, (although really, it was probably because the dominant didn't feel comfortable doing it) but there was something about the intensity and the pain that made it all seem so... nasty! Like he was committing a cardinal sin.

He may have been a changed man now, on a mission of redemption to alter his selfish ways and make amends for every wrong he had caused in the past. Yet, underneath all that self-improvement and character reform...

... he was still a sinner at heart!

Nick began to buck his hips and thrust in deeper, grinning like a jackal at every sweet whimper it tore from the valet's throat. 'Is that punishment enough?' he asked right before punching his way in rougher, keeping an iron grip on Knight's hips so that he couldn't pull away as he drove himself in right to the hilt.

Knight gritted his teeth at the sting before letting out an obnoxious scoff. 'Don't think I've learnt my lesson yet, Boss.'

'Well, we can't have that now, can we?'

The thrusting turned more rhythmic, pumping more than thrusting and now that Knight was acclimatising, he started to relax. Pushing back against the dominant's hips, his eyes rolled into the back of his head whenever he felt Nick's cock hitting his g-spot, grinding against that large bundle of nerves that spat out sparks of ecstasy at every touch. His lower jaw went limp and he began to moan and groan with growing pleasure.

'Enjoying yourself?'

'How can you tell?' Knight could barely open his heavy eyes, squeezing himself as close as he could against Nick's hot groin.

'You're being very noisy,' Nick said, in that same professional manner he used for contract briefings, only a little breathier than usual. 'I knew you were loud in the ring but didn't realise it was this bad out of it.'

'Afraid someone might hear?' Knight smirked. The GM answered with a stern look. 'Hey, you wanna shut me up, you know how.'

Nick grabbed Knight by the back of his head and smashed their mouths together. Knight's sunglasses clanked as the bridge of their noses collided. Clamping his lips over Knight's loudmouth, he gagged him with his tongue, shoving it in between his teeth, stifling the needy groan that thrummed from the valet's throat.

As their mouths tangled above, their hips merged below, working together in perfect harmony to wring every ounce of pleasure from them both. Knight had completely opened up, the thin lube of his earlier spit adding some ease to the motion. Nick kept hitting that marvellous piece of him deep inside but every sound Knight made was muffled by his boss' lips.

Soon, even the GM began to break his own rules. Ravaged noises rumbled from his own throat. If Knight could smile through the intense kissing, he would be beaming from ear-to-ear. The pace picked up, getting frantic. He struggled to keep up, his thighs throbbing as he bounced up and down on Nick's lap. The kissing degenerated into open mouth panting, both men's breaths fogging the other's cheek. Sparkles of bright colours like fireworks began to burst behind Knight's closed eyes.

Nick came first, spilling his seed, wet and hot inside of the valet. The feel of it oozing down his back passage, and the strangled snarl that accompanied it, was enough to spiral Knight into his own climax. He only had a chance to yelp for a second before his mouth was covered again, every one of his unchecked wails smothered by the GM's lips sealed against his own.

Only once he'd finally finished, did Nick let him go, tugging on his swollen, deep-pink lips with his teeth before slumping back into his desk chair and swallowing air down like a starved waif.

From up above, Knight was a wretched, crumpled shade of the 'modest' valet he'd walked in as. Clothes gone, hair dishevelled, his sunglasses slanted lop-sided on the bridge of his nose. His hazy blue eyes never wavered from the GM, bushy brows high as his shoulders rose and fell.

'Well...?' he uttered, mirroring Nick's earlier question.

The GM creaked open one glazed eye and cleared his throat. Sitting back up, he reached around the valet for a tissue from the box on his desk and nonchalantly wiped at the mess left from Knight's orgasm on his pants and shirt. Without asking, Knight grabbed a tissue for himself but it was swiftly snatched away by Nick who then used it to tenderly clean the valet's cock. 'I think I can help you with that.'

'With my dick or with my US Title match?'

Nick said nothing, only continued to mop up his temporary lover between the legs until he was satisfied. Finally looking up to catch the curious blue eyes staring back at him, he reached over to right his wonky sunglasses. 'Come back here after the show starts. I will have one of the guys type up a contract for you and leave it on my desk for you to pick up.'

'Sounds good,' Knight nodded with approval. 'Will it have Logan Dumbass' signature on it too?'

'That,' Nick pushed the valet's sunglasses back up to the top of his nose with his index finger, 'is your mission.'

Knight drew in a breath. Mulling it over.

'Leave it with me.'

'You're the man for the job.' Pulling a comb from his inside pocket, Nick ran it through Knight's slightly damp curls, teasing them back off his sweaty forehead. Once he was satisfied that he'd smartened the valet enough, he grasped him by the chin, gentler than before and pulled him in for a parting kiss. 'The words you're looking for, by the way, are 'thank' and 'you'.'

'Right back at ya!' Knight parried.

Nick smiled softly, pecking the valet on the lips. 'Thank you.'

'And thank you, Boss.' He tipped his head to the side cheekily. 'Will you be here later when I come to pick it up?'

'Unfortunately not,' Nick replied, smoothing his hands over the valet's naked thighs and down his muscular chest, 'but you can knock on my door any time.'

As promised, when Knight popped into Nick's office after Smackdown started, he found a contract for a US title match against Logan Paul at Summerslam waiting for him. He decided to waste no time and searched for a pen, grinning filthily as he picked up the fountain pen he'd made Nick abandon earlier, and signed his name on the dotted line. Now, he just needed to get the other.

He would think of a way. He always got what he wanted. Always!

Heading back outside, he found a slew of others waiting in line to see Nick, among them those two vain buffoons, Pretty Deadly. 'Hey dummies, he aint here!' he informed them then walked away before the carnage hit. Striding down the hallway, he admired his prize while Bobby's voice echoed between his ears.

'Just... don't do anything stupid when I'm not there, like, I dunno, sleep with the boss.'

Knight was sure he meant Hunter though. Pretty sure...

Instead, he focused on the contract in his hand, almost feeling something radioactive emitting from it. Something exciting! He deserved this, he had earned it, with his blood, his tears and his sweat - a whole lot of sweat! And come Summerslam, he would have his hand raised and that gold around his waist then there would be no more doubt who's game this is, with everybody saying-

The lights flickered.

Knight looked up but by the time his wide blue eyes found the light source it had returned to normal. He let out a stuttered breath, balling his fist up tight.

'Yeah, thought I'd be seeing you,' he snarled under his breath, glancing around him for any other tell-tale signs. 'Knew as soon as I saw that mess you made on Raw that you'd be showing your ugly, rubber face over here.' Nothing. Everybody was going about their business, as if they hadn't noticed.

'Well, here's the deal, Howdy,' Knight went on. 'I don't give a damn if you're back. I don't give a damn if you've got a bunch of cross-eyed halfwits running around in masks doing your bidding. I aint never gonna belong to you again. You come gunning for me, you ain't tangling with the same guy you were before. I'm ready for you, and I'm gonna do what I should have done the last time you tried to lock me in your damn cage.

'I'm gonna put you down. For good!

'But, for now,' he gazed lovingly at his contract, 'I've got bigger fish to fry. YEAH!'

#Thlayli-writes #la knight #nick aldis #valetverse au #wrestling fanfiction #wwe fan fiction #cw smut

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pandemic-info · 1 year ago

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Long-Term Long Covid - by Eric Topol

Unfortunately, what was seen at 6 months largely continues out to 2 years.

... [New paper at] Nature Medicine addresses what happened 2 years later to nearly 140,000 people who had Covid, compared with almost 6 million people non-infected controls.

... in the non-hospitalized group a substantial proportion— about 30%— of the 80 sequelae, including GI and neurologic, remained significantly elevated.

... I’d like to point out the data analyzed in this study was enormous, as I tried to capture with one of the supplemental tables below, representative of many others. The authors took on many advanced analytic approaches with weighting, conditional modeling, and sensitivity analyses that I’m not going to review here.

... While this is the first comprehensive and systematic study of Covid at 2 years, it unfortunately is within a highly skewed population. The demographics of nearly 90% men, with a mean age 61 years, is far different than the prototypic person with Long Covid who is more apt to be female and age 30-39 years. Furthermore, to get 2 year follow-up it meant studying a population who had Covid early in the pandemic, before vaccines or the marked evolution of the virus with new variants, including Delta, which was more virulent that the ancestral or Alpha strains that preceded it. So please keep this in mind—the results are important but they may well not be representative of the real world, broader population, of Covid and Long Covid. That’s already a major hole in our knowledge base since there is no other report yet to systematically address a more representative population.

...

Summary

At two years after Covid, there’s a persistent and considerable burden of symptoms and multi-system organ involvement in an important subgroup of people. It’s also unpredictable who will be afflicted with protracted symptoms and new medical diagnoses. While there still is no validated treatment (the Big Miss, as recently reviewed), Long Covid marches on, not just over time for most of those already suffering, but also among newly infected or re-infected individuals — like we are seeing now with increase in cases in the United States and many other countries. The main emphasis here, beyond the enduring and very concerning symptoms and organ dysfunction, is that we are still in the dark. It will take many years to fully know the sequelae of Covid, be it from unforeseen, delayed adverse outcomes like what occurred many years after influenza or polio, or the secondary outcomes of organ systems that are clearly affected, or via promotion of autoimmune conditions or pro-inflammatory pathways, potentially exacerbating risk of atherosclerosis. We’re going to need many more years of careful follow-up to fully understand the ways and extent Covid has hurt us. Meanwhile, beyond the known strategies for prevention of infection, we must consider finding effective ways to treat people who suffer from Long Covid as an urgent and foremost priority.

#long covid #research #data #eric topol #covid #summer 2023 #Ziyad Al-Aly #VA study #nature medicine #sequelae

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silkmoon777 · 1 year ago

Text

ATWOW | Neteyam Sully

"Neytiri cradles her youngest child as Lo’ak’s erratic Ikran lands beside his mothers. He seems unharmed, another relief. Then comes Jake Sully, their father, our Olo’eyktan. He, too, is unharmed. Strangely, there is another figure straddling his Ikran, haunched over in pain. When the last recognisable Ikran lands instead unmounted, I realise who it is. Neteyam"

Synopsis: An experiment to improve the Avatars as a child who managed to escape lab confinements and seek refuge among the Ometikayan clan, you are a nobody. You have no family name, no natural ties to the land of Pandora, yet the Sully's took you in. Life could not be the same without them, so when they are forced to leave to protect the clan, fate settles in, and you find yourself journeying alongside them in search of the foreign lands and ways of the Metkayina Clan. Threats of the sky people grow closer every day. Not only is everything you know tested by their advances but by the relationship you have with Jake Sully's oldest son. ...Neteyam.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Ometikaya OC (Gi'anya, or Gi for short)

Contains: established OC POV, vague descriptions of wounds, crude language, tension between Neteyam and reader cause he's just so sexy,

Word count: 3,001

A/N: Okay, so, a little backstory... I'm currently in the process of writing out the Avatar: The Way of Water movie in a way that fits in my own OC because my hyper-fixation is so crippling that I have to lay down my thoughts precisely (I've lost sleep over this and decided to let it happen). I really want to focus on life with the Metkayina and the more social aspects not shown in the movie. Also need to think of a name for this series

find the rest of the chapters in my masterlist here :)

• • • • •

Children laugh as they sprint through the sprawling caves of the sky islands, chased after by young healers and human help in the absence of their parents. Their carefree nature is pure. Envious. Our numbers have reduced to those unable to fight and who have more use in High Camp, including me and my closest friend, Kiri. We linger at one of the mouths of the cave on woven mats to escape the potent unease. Kiri and I try not to speak on it, especially considering who’s out in the unknown.

“I’m definitely faster when I’m blue.”

I snort.

Kiri laughs airily at the remark made by the human sitting between us. Our fingers glide over his bare beige skin, drawing lines of blue that resemble our Na’vi colouring. We are careful not to stain his blonde dreadlocks. The human boy helps, digging into a wooden bowl of past and marking feline stripes on his arm.

The human boy is Spider, a member of our closely-knit circle. As a babe, the boy was one of the sky people, then orphaned by the great war. The friendly human scientists who remained on Pandora took him under their wing. Many of the orphaned children have integrated themselves into our communities, but it is Spider who is most lucky, finding his spot beside the most powerful family in the Ometikayan tribe. Our luck is shared.

“Skxawng,” Kiri teases.

“No, seriously.” A soft, mechanical inhale sounds from his oxygen mask. “Hear me out.”

“We’re hearing,” I sing.

“The animals respect me more,” he continues. “They don’t think of me as human.”

Kiri leans back on her haunches to hang her face before his, taunting him with a look of disingenuous wonder. “Wait, you’re human?”

“Ha, ha,” Spider deadpans before flicking blue-covered fingers in her direction. She makes a noise as she avoids the spray.

I’m about to join in the taunt, only for my airs to prick at a distant, familiar sound. Kiri is close to follow, perking up, eyes darting towards the cave entrance. A piercing shriek, the beat of something heavy… Spider notices our activated senses, and after a moment, his human ears hear it, too. Ikrans. A battle call blown through a hollow tusk echoes through the cave systems, signalling the return of our warriors. My heart both swells and sinks. It is rare that they all return untouched. Never has a raid ended in great despair for me, but who is to say that will always be the case? That being said, I am not heartless. The losses we have faced and will continue to face hit me hard. Greif is felt equally through our people.

My gaze turns skyward as people begin to call out through the stronghold. Sure enough, the low hum and shrieking cries are followed by creatures of beastly beauty. Mounting their backs with weapons raised and heads held high are our warriors.

“They’re coming! Kiri, Gi, Spider!” Tuk, the youngest of the Sully children, comes bounding over to us in glee. “The war party’s coming back!”

I’m first to my feet, Kiri pulling Spider in tow. I bend down to usher the young Na’vi girl along. She’s excited to see her brothers and parents. I share the sentiment. But even she, as young as she is, understands that the news may not be pleasant. Her hesitance is evident in the way she clenches and unclenches her fists.

I give her shoulders an encouraging squeeze. “Come, Tuk, let’s go.”

The decorated Ikran’s burst through the central, cavernous drop suspended above a sea of trees. The creatures come to graceful halts on the uneven rock floor. There are too many to look at, too many to sift through. I almost worry that I’ll miss them, but just as the worry comes, it vanishes.

My eyes find Neytiri first, the mother of the Sully children. With a grace, she drops to the floor. It's a grace that is gifted, not learned. Eywa knows I envy her for it. Tuk breaks from my hold and launches herself at her mother. Neytiri cradles her youngest child as Lo’ak’s erratic Ikran lands beside his mothers. He seems unharmed, another relief. Then comes Jake Sully, their father, our Olo’eyktan. He, too is unharmed. Strangely, there is another figure straddling his Ikran, haunched over in pain. When the last recognisable Ikran lands instead unmounted, I realise who it is. Neteyam.

The oldest Sully boy slides off his father’s Ikran, somehow graceful in his troublesome state. Grazes and grime cover the striped flesh of his thighs, forearms, hands and chest as if he was thrown down a gravel hill. He limps after his father with a strained wince etched deep into his angular face, which he hangs in shame. At the sight and Jake’s aggravated ‘fall in’, Kiri and I hang back a moment longer. The urge to run to Neteyam’s side is strong, but my fear of Jake clouded by the tribulations of war is stronger.

Jake rounds to face his oldest son, nearly crashing right into him. Lo’ak hangs a step behind awkwardly. “You’re supposed to be spotters. You spot bogeys, and you call ‘em in. From a distance!”

The further Jake raises his voice, the flatter Neteyam's ears fall against his skull. For a solid moment, Jake directs a firey stare at his son in silence as if testing him. Neteyam does not yield. Though he is silent and holds the stare, there is no lack of emotion in his eyes.

“Does any of this sound familiar?” Jake then turns to Lo’ak with a scowl. The younger son quickly averts his gaze. “Get here!”

Lo’ak steps forward. No doubt he finds the outburst humiliating. At the division of attention, I let out a breath I unknowingly held and rush to Neteyam. He doesn’t look at me as my hybrid five-fingers ghost over his bare back. Although he refuses to regard me in this state, he lets me examine the damage. The grazes are frequent and deep on his protruding shoulder blades. As my fingers lightly press his right bicep, he winces. There’s the faint promise of an angry bruise blossoming beneath an armband.

“Jesus, I let you two geniuses fly a mission and you disobey direct orders.” Then, to my surprise, Jake turns his attention to me. My hands refrain from examining a bleeding gash on Neteyam’s forearm. “Gi, can you go help Mo’at with the wounded? Please?"

Jake Sully speaks to me in a voice unlike the one he uses as he scolds his sons. It is soft and sympathetic to my willingness to help, but he believes the willingness is misplaced. His standards for Neteyam are high, sometimes too high. Though he may have disobeyed orders, he was only young and clearly sorry. The denial of attention seems to be a punishment. One that I do not think he deserves. So not to appear hostile or argumentative, I give Jake a sort of puzzled pout.

“But Neteyam is wounded.”

Jake’s look is torn between the urge to command and the understanding of my worry. Neteyam turns to me, his golden gaze soft. His touch as he gives my shoulder a squeeze is even softer, a silent thank you.

“It’s fine,” he says quietly.

“Kid, please.” Jake’s attention is then caught by Kiri and Tuk, who circle their other brother in search of harm. Tuk pulls at Lo’ak’s forearm with an intensive, seeking purpose. “Tuk, Kiri, go with her. Go!”

After a moment of looking between Jake and Neteyam, I sigh, giving the latter one last look before breezing between the two. Kiri and Tuk follow with looks as annoyed as mine.

Neteyam purses his lips. “Dad—sir, I take full responsibility—”

“Yeah, you do. That’s right. ‘Cause you’re the older brother, you gotta act like it…”

Jake's anger and Neteyam's apologies fade into the overwhelming chatter of the war party’s return. Kiri and I weave through the mess in silence, keeping a close eye on Tuk as we head for Mo’at’s tent. It’s the biggest within the healing sector. The peak of the patchwork tent is suspended by the floating rocks above, as all tents are. A gentle fire crackles away within a makeshift stone hearth. Kiri and Tuk’s grandmother welcomes the three of us with relief as she tends to a bullet wound in a male’s shoulder. Her tired gaze tells us she’s seen many of the wounded already—four more hover around the perimeter in anticipation of the great Tsahìk’s magical hands. Kiri and I are quick to help, passing around salves and bandages as we meet their needs. Tuk simply watches.

Soon enough, the last three are being treated. I am the first to finish, my patient simply needing two stitches in a short, yet deep wound. He bows his head in gratitude before disappearing into the bustling post-war activities. I lean back on my haunches and slump my shoulders with a sigh. Today has not been the busiest aftermath of a raid. I thank Eywa for that. Usually, I get tens of patients at a time instead of the two I have just seen.

Not a minute passes before three more figures approach the tent, two of them Na’vi, one of them human. I’m almost praying to the Great Mother that they are a simple touch and go before I realise who they are. Spider comes in first, followed by Lo’ak, who still looks a little butthurt. Finally, there’s Neteyam, who takes his time limping into the warmth of the tent. One of his hands cradles his ribs just below the sternum.

“Lucky you,” I say as he approaches. “You just missed the queue.”

His smile is strained. “Lucky me, indeed.”

I laugh a little before shaking my head as I take in the state of him. Beneath the hand on his abdomen, an angry bruise springs to life. I assume he broke a rib or two. “Jesus, ‘Teyam, look at you. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Lo’ak, who lingers at the entrance, seems to sink into his shoulders at the remark.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble. “Now shut up and sit down.”

Neteyam does so without question, taking up the empty spot before me with no lack of struggle. He huffs and winces before finally settling with his legs crossed. The sight is now familiar.

Our routine for the past year has been consistent. During the raids, I wait impatiently at High Camp gathering supplies, watching the children whose parents aim to protect the clan, and tending to the few wounded who did not get the luxury of a simple stitch and fix. Then, as the day drew to a close, the war party would return. Wordless and defeated, Neteyam would seek out the tent I worked in. It wasn’t often that anyone else besides his grandmother treated his wounds. Half of me was selfishly thrilled that it was me he searched for at the end of the day, relaying what had happened and the frustrations of his job while I poked and bruises and cleaning cuts. But another half of me was devastated we had found some rhythm at all.

Neteyam shouldn’t be out on those missions. He shouldn’t be returning to me clutching a wound and wiping at fresh blood. No one in the clan should be doing the same.

While nineteen was the cusp of being considered a man in our culture, he was still just a boy forced to grow up in the midst of war. All the years he was meant to spend carefree were marred by Jake’s ruthless training. A killer had been carved from his gentle nature. A lot of the time, that nature is overshadowed by his duty to protect, but it was still very much there, and I cherished any piece of it I could leach from him.

Mo’at and Kiri both finish attending to the last of the wounded. Assuming the Tsahìk would wish to survey her grandson, I refrain from starting anything just yet. Sure enough, she drifts to occupy the space I leave for her, a bowl of water and a washcloth in each hand. She hands one to me and instructs that I see to his front, while she examines the cuts on his back. He bares his teeth as she begins, not without scolding him first.

“Covering for Lo’ak again?” I ask so quietly, still earning a scoff from Lo’ak nonetheless.

Neteyam shrugs. “When am I ever not?”

I take the honed planes of his jaw in my hands and angle his face upwards once I kneel at his side. I have to hover over him to get the best view, and even when sitting, the Sully boy towers over me. My eyes are trained precisely on a gash on his cheekbone. However, my peripheral allows me to see his solid stare trained on my face. Neteyam is shameless and not easily embarrassed unless you were his father. Sometimes the intensity of his stare is unnerving, and it is no help that he could be blind and still make my brain a pining mess.

The cut on his face requires little attention, and soon enough, I am lowering myself to inspect the injuries on his chest. Still, his gaze is dead set on my face. I work for a second longer in silence, gently pushing at his shoulder to straighten his chest. When my fingers brush over his skin, something brushes over mine: his tail against my thigh. Brief and gentle is the contact, seemingly accidental, but it's still slow. Deliberately slow. Painfully slow. It still takes every ounce of my willpower not to blush.

“You’re kind, ‘Teyam,” I continue. “Too kind. Sometimes, people need to learn from their mistakes, and while they may appreciate your…distribution of blame, you’re only dragging yourself down.”

He tilts his head. “You don’t know what happened.”

My fingers pause, hovering the washcloth millimetres from his skin as I meet his eyes. “Would it make a difference?”

Silence. Then…

“No. You’re too good with words, you know. It’s very…confronting.” He lowers his brows. There’s a touch of playfulness in his voice to cushion the truth. “I don’t like it.”

I shrug nonchalantly. “I was sent here to be your rude awakening. Glad it’s working.”

“It’s always working,” he mumbles.

I swap the bloodied washcloth for a pot of salve and silently apologise for the sting it’s about to cause. The second I smear my fingers across the gashes, he lets out a hiss, his shoulders tensing. I halt for a moment, continuing when he doesn’t refuse my help.

“Aw, want a kiss on the boo-boo?” Spider teases. Lo’ak snickers.

“I would use yalna bark,” pipes up Kiri, who has been organising the balms and explaining to Tuk the use of each one.

Tuk comes to Neteyam’s side with a cup of something given by her sister. “Here, drink.” Neteyam does so hesitantly.

“Oh, you would?” Questions Mo’at with a challenging tone. “Who is Tsahik, hmm?”

“You are, Grandmother, but Yalna bark is better.”

Kiri sighs when her grandmother denies the outstretched pot. She defiantly continues to use whatever she already has on hand, and as she lathers Neteyam’s broken skin, he winces with an exclaimed ‘Ow!’ in protest.

“It helps with the sting,” I add.

Though Mo’at refrains from acknowledging my input, it’s enough for Kiri to silently slip me the mixture before retreating back to her organisation. While his grandmother is still merciless in her treatments on his back, he seems to relax a little when I use the calmer salve.

“How’d you manage this?” I murmur, running my free hand over the bruise on his ribs. It's meant to bring attention to my question, but as my fingers find the curves and inclines of taught muscle, my focus is entirely deterred. My heartbeat thumps in a joy I should not be finding. He tenses up at my touch.

“Well, I managed all of this trying to stop Lo’ak from blowing the wrong person's head off with the ARs.”

“So I was right, hm?”

“Yeah, yeah, now shush.” The rebuttal is defensive, yet humorous. “Got caught in the crossfire of an ambush and was knocked from the top of some crashed machinery onto some rocks. I guess I went ribs first.”

I scrunch my face and hum in thought. “If there are any more raids within the coming week, I suggest you don’t go.”

“I’m the Mighty Warrior, Gi. You expect me to stay behind?”

The Mighty Warrior. It’s a title placed on Neteyam by the general public; it is no secret that he is a prodigy in combat. Talented in his natural athleticism, he has excelled at all things physical since birth. Neteyam is known to be as skilled as his mother when airborne, even more skilful with a bow in his hand. Years ago he was named the youngest of the Omatikayan clan to make a clean kill on a sturmbeest hunt—I remember it to be the birth of the title.

At first, it was in jest. A reminder of the greatness Neteyam was expected to live up to. Only, it got serious quickly. Mighty Warrior. He takes the name lightly and often jokes about it, but sometimes there’s this guileful grin on his face when he says it. He loves it, deep down. It’s a small reward for his hard work climbing the merciless ranks.

“I expect that if the Mighty Warrior goes on another raid too soon,” I counter with a voice slow enough for him to understand the warning, “the Mighty Warrior will not be so mighty in the end.”

“Listen to the poor girl,” Mo’at urges with a not-so-gentle brush of salve. “She’s worried sick in the face of your cockiness and all you can do is parrot those titles in defence.” She turns her gaze to me. “For his sake, humble him a little more.”

“Please do,” Kiri mutters.

“I like my happiness.” Neteyam glares at her. “How about she humbles you and you see how brutal she can be?”

• • • • •

A/N: finally finding the courage to commit and post this, but don't hold me to any standards of completing this entire thing, ya girl is easily distracted and caught off guard by new obsessions that demand to be written out. Take The Arcana for example. I've abandoned that ship to sail this one. Also, exams and sickness are fucking me rn so these are pre-written chapters. Enjoy

#avatar #avatar the way of water #atwow #neteyam #neteyam avatar #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x oc #fanfiction

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daemon-in-my-head · 7 months ago

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I DID IT! FLUFF! NOT A DRILL! OK well obviously me being me there's the trademark sliver of angst but, yk, it's brushed aside quick(er than usual). No, despite the name, it is NOT horny. Though Gortash has some thoughts because of course that fucker does. I have no hand left in their characterisation, they're doing it themselves atp. I'm fucking innocent I swear on Gortash's most personal dreams.

Synopsis: Perhaps childcare wasn't as easy as Enver Gortash always considered it. Seeing how the ruthless tyrant now sat defeated and adorned in all sorts of finery before the little girl. The very girl he so smugly proclaimed tending to would be easily doable hours prior.

2,069 words, non-descriptive mentions of violence, big fluff. Read here or on Ao3.

Child's play

"I want to play," The little girl exclaimed loudly as her hands found their way onto the makeshift desk Gortash had created from the ornamental outdoor furniture. She was bravely demanding the city's tyrant's attention, which had been solely intended for the documents before him, all for herself.

"So? You have plenty of toys. Go and play with them." The Archduke didn't even bother looking up, or rather down, at the girl.

Seeing how his dearest companion had been working himself to the bone lately, caring for his day-to-day work in the temple and keeping his daughter safe and entertained, the Archduke had ever so graciously offered to look after her for a day, all so that his dearest Bhaalspawn may rest, and perhaps, if he was fortunate enough, wouldn't reject any advance to as much as a conversation with his usual saying he'd be too tired or that he'd still have some work he needed to tend to.

After all, Gortash thought, money for a nanny had been no issue and considering all his feats so far, caring for a child for a day should be easily accomplished. A worthwhile tradeoff for the rewards the proud lord promised himself. At least in theory. But the little girl had thrown an extraordinary tantrum when he had attempted to leave her with the nanny and loudly demanded to accompany him today, resulting in the never-resting tyrant setting up a temporary office in his companion's garden, all while the girl entertained herself either watching him or playing around with a plethora of toys her father must've obtained for her. Until just a moment ago, that was.

"They're boring," The girl pouted, clearly displeased about his straightforward dismissal of her. "I want to have a party."

Ever Gortash sighed, "we can't simply host a party just because you're bored of your toys, Neala. And certainly not with a hostess that barely reaches up to her guest's hips."

"But Papa always does when I ask him to?" She seemingly couldn't comprehend just how absurd her request had been.

Intrigued by the utter confusion displayed on the little girl's face, he questioned further, finally setting down the quill and facing the girl, now standing next to him, "how exactly do these parties your father holds for you look like?"

"Well," the girl began, her confusion quickly changing into delight, "Papa and Lief sit down, and we talk, and Papa listens and calls me 'Lady'. Oh, we also have tea! Mama used to help me with that but-" the girls expression darkened as she recalled her mother.

The tyrant knew that she still missed her immensely. It had become a reoccurring topic whenever he and his companion managed to find time to sit down and talk, and while he didn't usually care for sentimentality like this, considering his own circumstance, making Fine's daughter cry, even by accident, would certainly not work in his favour.

"Fine," he forced his lips to curl into a crooked smile, "let's have a party then. Tell the servants what you need. They'll help you prepare."

Not even waiting for him to finish his sentence, the girl had already run off towards the garden's entrance.

Whatever she had described was, after all, not a party but simple child's play, entertainment for the mansion's little princess, provided to her by her beloved parents. Though, the proud lord had to admit, even if it wasn't a proper gathering, the idea in and of itself was quite brilliant, playfully teaching the girl what would be expected of her once she came of age. Especially considering she was the offspring of two rather infamous 'families', being a proper hostess and perhaps handling things such as beverages by herself were skills that would undoubtedly be useful to her in the future. Then again, the more he played with the thought, the less sure of whose idea it must've been he became. Both her parents were undoubtedly ruthless enough to make sure she would be well-equipped to use anything she could to her advantage, but on the other hand, at least her father seemed to treasure her dearly and continuously gave his best efforts to keep her as far away and more importantly as unaware as possible of his usually grim businesses.

Perhaps it was indeed her late mother's idea? It would make sense, he thought. She had been a noble drow, and her kind was primarily known for their handiness when it came to poisonings and other cruelties. A woman like that playfully teaching her child from a young age how to host gatherings and, more importantly, how to add unique ingredients to a tea was something he could terrifyingly easily imagine. Perhaps it would be better to refrain from touching any teacups the girl would handle.

The Gates Archduke making headlines because a child managed to somehow temper with his drink would certainly diminish his reputation. Although, perhaps if he framed it the right way, it may yet serve as a way to garner even more support. But then again, challenging the Bhaalspawn for his daughter's sake would work against his most personal goals. A sigh escaped the man as he was weighing the options in his mind. It seemed as though caring for a child was, in fact, not so as easy as he had imagined previously, seeing the conundrum he now found himself face to face with.

"Here," the girl's voice finally tore his chain of thought apart, forcing Gortash to return to the present once more.

"And whatever might this be?" His Eyebrows furrowed as he observed the bundle of fabric stretched out towards him before he shifted his gaze to look upon the girl again.

"Clothes," Neala was equally confused, seemingly not grasping why he would question something so obvious.

"I can see that, Neala. But why have you brought them here?" The tyrant swallowed his sigh. How much he missed conversing with those who understood his words for what they were.

"People dress up for parties, do they not?" She hurriedly placed the bundle on the makeshift desk, disregarding the parchment beneath. Like father like daughter. As soon as she did, a seemingly exquisite hat, alongside a plethora of other accessories, revealed itself.

"Here," she said yet again, this time holding the aforementioned hat adorned with silky fabric towards the grumbling man.

"If you need help putting it on, you should ask the servants. They're more experienced with these things." He gestured towards the garden's entrance where a maid had been stationed, ready to heed her master's every beck and call.

The girl beamed as she proudly retorted, "it's not for me. I got it specifically for you!"

Gortash couldn't believe what he had heard. This big, tedious, carefully decorated hat before him was one of the things the ladies of high society would adorn themselves with whenever they left their comfortable estates. It was certainly not something he would, or should, ever consider wearing. "You're trying to make a fool of me, are you not, little one?"

The girl, however, perhaps fortunately not picking up on either the slight hint of malice or the true meaning of his words, simply continued to beam at him as she responded, "you need to dress up prettily for parties, and this is the pretties one I have."

"I appreciate your consideration, but I'm afraid I can't wear that." He spoke through gritted teeth. Even in a private garden, an Archduke couldn't stoop so low.

"But you have to. It's no party otherwise." The girl insisted.

"Why, you little-" he tried his best to keep his voice low, low enough so that the girl wouldn't hear his cursing, but his efforts were in vain.

"I'll tell on you to Papa." She smirked as she cut him off. The little devil certainly knew what she was doing, he thought.

But before the tyrant could consider his next excuse, another familiar voice rang through the garden. "Oh? What are you going to tell me?"

A white-haired man emerged from the grand doors marking the garden's entrance behind them, promptly causing the girl to drop the things she had been holding onto and rush towards him, only to be picked up and nestled within his arms in one swell motion, sealing Gortash's fate for good.

"Papa! Your back!" She wrapped her arms around the man, obviously overjoyed about his arrival.

"So? What were you talking about that you couldn't help but share?" He was looking at the somewhat defeated-looking lord before him, but the answer he sought came from the girl in his arms.

"We wanted to hold a party!" Neala was still giddy with excitement as she spoke.

Fine shifted his gaze towards his daughter before questioning her further, seemingly knowing what must've transpired while he was gone with just a glance at the two of them. "And he really agreed to go along with what you proposed?"

The girl's excitement died down a little as she appeared caught in her mischievousness. He could guess that she omitted some 'minor' aspects of her proposal, which had led to whatever situation he had barged in on. But before she could receive the imminent scolding, the person who may yet change her fate interjected himself into the conversation again.

"I did." He cleared his throat and promptly continued, leaving no room for any more questions, "in fact, we were just picking out some fancy clothes, weren't we?" Gortash forced a smile. He disliked it, but he'd rather voluntarily discard his pride than be saved by the very person whom he had promised a day of rest. "Now, shall we return to what we were doing?"

The Bhaalspawn raised his brows in surprise but soon enough let go of the girl and allowed her to return to her party planning. As soon as she was freed, she held out the hat towards the grumbling tyrant again.

"Thank you." A brusque reply before he took the fabric of nightmares and placed it on his painstakingly coiffed hair.

"Here," Neala's usual smile had returned as she approached her father, an exquisitely crafted brooch clasped in her hands.

"Am I invited as well?" The man responded with a similar smile. He seemed genuinely happy about this unforeseen development. Perhaps burying one's pride once every so often wasn't too bad, Gortash thought.

"Yes," the girl exclaimed happily. "You'll be the lord, and Uncle Enver will be the lady. And I'll be the gracious hostess!" The tyrant swallowed. Never mind his previous statement. This, most definitely, was hell on earth. The little girl must be a fiend skilled at hiding her undoubtedly existing horns. And that nickname she had conjured up, oh how much he wished he could just curse out loud.

Trying his best to suppress the laughter threatening to break free, Fine made his way over to Gortash, extending an arm as soon as he reached him. "My lady? Shall we head to a more suitable location?"

Biting his lip, still trying his hardest to swallow the laughter, Fine nodded towards the pavilion where the servants had already set the table with a delicate porcelain tea set. The place the child had already dashed off to.

Gortash sighed before taking the hand extended towards him. This father-daughter pair may yet be the death of him, but for now, he'd simply try to delight in the few short moments of undisturbed time together their way would allow them.

And sure enough, after arriving at the furniture set decorated for them, the blissful moments soon disappeared. Their little hostess made sure to torment him for what seemed like hours, chattering away and engaging the adults in conversation about made up circumstance and her little fantasies, all while serving what could only be called discoloured water and endlessly swooning over the beautiful hat the 'lady' had been wearing. Gortash may have had his fair share of dealings with devils, but all of them could still learn a thing or two from the little hellspawn hopping around cheerfully around them.

Still, while Gortash yet refused to admit his defeat for a while longer, it didn't take too long for him to finally surrender to the little demon before him. Perhaps due to the ashen hand holding his own and the quietly mouthed 'thank you' from the man beside him, in the end, and after enough time had passed being held onto like this, even the tyrant's smile seemed to come naturally to him.

#fresh in today from the hell that is daemons mind #is it really durgetash fluff if gortash isnt suffering?#or 'which horrible person takes this hellspawn really after' and other questions gortash asked himself #should i drop some lore regarding Neala?#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #durgetash #enver gortash #bg3 durge #daemons writing #bg3 fanfic #fanfic #i still have no idea how this happened #or if its good #but yk #for the sake of fake it till you make it #13/10 my most bestest most deranged bit yet

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littlelesbinonny · 1 year ago

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The Devil's Den

Chapter 33: In Which A Silent Harbinger Approaches

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

Alcina all but barreled through the double doors to Karl's shop, damn near knocking them down as she slammed them shut behind her with a loud bang.

"HEISENBEEERRRG!"

Karl was nestled way at the back when the roar came echoing through, "ah fuck." He blurted.

He'd been nose deep in desperation trying to not only work on furthering their advance in this mutant malarky with any equipment or weapons he had, but to also distract himself from his guilt of spilling the beans about that fucking cave to his nieces. There was no doubt in his mind Alcina would be paying him a taxing visit when she got back, but he wasn't really prepared for this, he didn't want to be. And as her hasty stride full of purpose stomped closer he considered hiding, although uncouth and completely cowardly.

When she burst through the entryway to his area, nostrils flared, lips pursed, and a scowl that would put Medusa to shame, he backed away from his work bench with his hands raised in retreat.

"Now look -" was as far as he got before she slammed her palm on the edge of the counter, rattling everything in proximity.

"What were you thinking!?" she scolded, "you of all people know how headstrong my daughters are - "

"Well yeah, I mean, look at their mother -"

"DON'T INTERUPT ME!"

Karl shrunk into his shoulders, holding his hands a little higher, "I'm sorry!"

"You're so infuriating!"

He could tell she was doing everything in her power to control her rage and not haul off and very likely break something, possibly his face, so he had to think fast.

"Just gimme a sec to explain, don't snap and combust, ok?" he rattled off, "I know you're upset -"

"I am FURIOUS!"

"Yes, yes, I can tell and you have every right to have a super-sized bitch fit about it and want to break my neck and kill me, you do, I am not denying any of that, but you really gotta understand that my intention was never to get those girls into trouble or put them in harms way; they had questions and I just answered them without thinking, it's a weakness of mine" he huffed, watching the fire in her eyes swirl and threaten to blow, "I promise you on everything that I am, I love those girls, I love them like they are my own, and if I had any idea they were thinking of executing this idiotic fucking idea I would have squashed it faster than you would Salvatore's ugly ass head if you had the chance... ok? So don't kill me."

Alcina's jaw was clenched so tightly she thought she might shatter her teeth, her fists were balled hard enough she wondered if the heat she was feeling was the utter strength of her muscles burning or she'd drawn blood on herself. Either way, Karl's deflection of her wrath had annoyingly kept her from exploding which is exactly what he had intended. And, as much as she hated to admit, she did know how much he cared for her daughters.

Shoving her held breath through her nose like an aggravated bull, Alcina swallowed and softened her shoulders for relief of her own sake.

"In truth I didn't actually come here to kill you, although the thought has crossed my mind several times today... I would fully love to rip you to shreds, but it is, of course, unseemly and I will let you live another day," she acquiesced, "but for fuck sake Heisenberg," Alcina grumbled, "use the brain inside your fucking skull for more than bullheaded nonsense!"

Karl, surprisingly, accepted her insult without retort and slowly lowered his arms, "got it. Got it. Use the grey matter inside my skull."

With another exasperated huff, she leaned her hip on the countertop and folded her arms, "we have a more pressing matter unfortunately, and that's damage control for this whole situation... can I rely on your efforts?"

He kept his smug grin tamed, "absolutely. You say who, what, when, and where and I won't even ask the why boss lady."

Alcina rolled her eyes.

The girls had been shut up in their home for a full 24 hours by the time Alcina returned.

Many hours had been spent glowering down at the courtyard full of Mateo's men. At least by Daniela.

Whether or not any of them were truly sorry about their actions, not a one of them could decide. They, along with Angie, had discovered the nook that lead them into the undiscovered tunnels. The brigades had no issue believing their lie that their mother had sent them to aid in the endeavor, and had it not been for them they would likely still be at square one. No where. Still, the outcome was unfavorable.

Bela and Cassandra were in the library guzzling blood-wine when Daniella decided to join them with a glass of her own.

Cassandra was staring blankly into space, nursing the chip on her shoulder with a scowl settled deeply in her visage.

Bela was unable to concentrate on her book and had finally given up.

Daniella was chewing on her bottom lip between sips and sat down in a huff on the plush cream colored chez lounge aside Bela.

"Think Angie's in trouble too?" she asked mildly.

"When Aunt Donna finds out, which she will, absolutely," Cassandra stated sharply, "I'm sure mother has already made that phone call."

Bela shot her sister a look at the bitterness in her tone, "every single one of us knew this was a bad idea and we still did it. We got caught. Quit being a bitch about mothers reaction."

Cassandra returned the icy biting gaze and tongued her teeth.

"Oh my god, now I remember why I've been avoiding the both of you," Daniella said getting ready to rise and leave.

"Sit."

Came a voice that shot ice cycles through their veins.

"M-mom," Bela stuttered, shifting to watch her as she entered.

Alcina looked strikingly ominous in the low light, her new pitch-black suit, and the sharpness of her features. It was clear she hadn't had any sustenance since she'd been gone.

She peered at her daughters with a facade similar to before but not as rough around the edges.

"I need you to be silent and let me speak," she began softly but sternly, standing tall and unmoved before them, "I also need the three of you to comprehend what I'm about to say..." the slate hue of her eyes showed the slightest hint of the hurt she felt, "when we are outside of our home, I am first and foremost your Matriarch, secondly your mother. Do I make myself clear?"

The question captured their full attention and left them on edge.

"My position as the leader of this underworld does not wane because you are my daughters. If anything my position becomes harsher and more complicated because of that fact alone. The three of you have put me in a situation I don't ever want to be in again. I now have to convince myself and others of your lie. I have to mend the cracks in your lie to now be the truth. You could have severely undermined and put my power in jeopardy with this, do you understand? When you go behind my back, it shows weakness. In me. In my reign. Do you have any idea what that opens me, and us, up to?" she asked sharply.

"Do you?" she asked again, even sharper, "Mutiny. Uprising. Death. If those who wish to see me overthrown find any kind of weakness in the chain that is our family, it gives them leverage to break us. If you're as smart and observant as you claim to be, then you are well aware of the mass of those who wish to harm us. You compromise not only me but yourselves, and Donna, Angie, Karl, Dmitri - any who are loyal to us. We have more foe than friends, that is the truth of it."

Alcina took a deep, heavy breath and stared each of her daughters in the eye.

"I keep things from you not with the intent of malice. I keep things from you to keep you safe. I keep things from you because juggling the Matriarchy and being a mother to my daughters can sometimes be too much, for even me - because at the end of the day I want you, my daughters, my girls, to be free of the cares and worries I must bare because it is my duty - because I want you to have a life that is freer than mine - I want you to bare as little worry and stress as you need because I want nothing more than to protect you!"

Vampires cry very little, if ever at all. In fact only once in a great while can a vampire shed a tear, and Alcina, in this moment, with the weight of facing the fact her girls could have been killed and she could not have been there to save or protect them, crashed down upon her harder than the boulders a day ago, and tears of her regret and sorrow began to pool in the bottom of her eyelids.

"I -" her voice quivered, "want only to protect you from the terrors of this world, from the very monsters you live amongst and whatever the fuck happens to be out there now. If that is selfish, the love I hold for you, then I will happily own it."

After the silence became too much, having no response or reaction, Alcina lifted her chin, straightened her spine and turned to leave.

A body collided with hers and halted her movement, holding her captive from behind.

"Believe it or not, no one should have to suffer alone," came the voice she was least expecting, "we just want to help you, mother, we want to help you and protect you as much as you do us. Being a family means love and support in all things. You have that in us. We just wished you would trust us."

Alcina placed her arm over the ones around her torso and sighed, "Cass, it has nothing to do with trust... I love and trust you. My burdens should not be your burdens."

Cassandra untangled herself from behind her mother and came to face her, "no. That's just it. Your burdens are our burdens," she stated firmly, grasping Alcina's slender hands in her own, "you raised us to be hellions in a fight. You raised us to be feral warriors. To be smart and cunning and to live with our eyes open. Why have your most powerful weapons sitting on a shelf gathering dust?"

The glitter in Cassandra's smirking face and eyes made Alcina laugh, "I don't think I raised you to be this cocky."

"Oh, oh you definitely did; stubborn and cocky as you."

The tension had broken with Alcina's brilliant smile and Cassandra pulled her in for a strong embrace, the other two joined not moments later and everything almost felt right in the word again.

"Dani's still fired though, it was her idea," Cassandra whispered, winking at her sister.

"Are you fucking shitting me?!" Daniella screeched.

Before Alcina had any grasp on what was happening, those two became an entangled mess of shrieks and punches and kicks on the floor. Bela stood off to the side with her mother looking disgusted.

"It was Cassandra's idea." she relayed unamused.

"I know," Alcina responded smoothly, folding her arms as the madness ensued.

When the sisters realized no one was actually stopping the fight, they halted mid punch and pull of hair to look at Alcina and Bela.

Their mother tilted her head, "when you're quite finished I have questions for the three of you about Angie."

The girls stilled even harder.

"Uhm..."

The tension in house Beneviento was palpable, all of it radiating from Donna.

"Did you know Angie was part of this?"

Donna vigorously re-pinned the bun of her long brown hair upon her head, "I've only just been made violently aware."

Alcina watched her friend in amusement as she was clearly beside herself at the new knowledge.

She finally plopped down across the table from Alcina and placed her head in her palms, "If I would have had any clue, Alcina, I swear - "

"You don't need to apologize or back-pedal for her, I'm well aware you never would have kept this from me."

"Angie is the literal likeness of keeping track of a rabid raccoon - I am not in control, I can't even pretend to be in control."

"And you've not seen her yet?" Alcina asked taking a sip of her wine.

Donna dropped her arms and looked up, "briefly; before you returned she came tearing through the house, grabbed some things, said she'd be back, and that was it. Poof. Gone."

"Perhaps a leash?" Alcina teased.

"She'll just chew through it."

They sat by the candlelight for several hours musing over the situation at hand and making sure their stories added up with one another when it came to her daughters being sent on this faux mission. Alcina was still displeased beyond belief but she had to work with what she had.

With another sigh, Alcina lit a cigarette and took a very, very long drag.

"I can't be certain," Donna broke the silence, "but Angie's onto something."

"How do you mean?"

"A hunch, and her actions. I did send her on a mission after all, and she dislikes coming up empty handed more than I do. There must be something she's onto."

Alcina's eyes narrowed as she took another puff, "let's hope she finds it soon. I would like to put many things to bed."

"As would I."

After his lovely visit with Alcina earlier today, Karl went back to busying himself with anything that involved explosives. Somehow it gave him pending satisfaction. He did his best work when he was left alone to his own devices and had been spurred on by some form of outside pressure, whatever it may be. Now, usually pleased and content to be left the fuck out of anything that didn't directly involve him had always been Karl's M.O. for as long as he could remember. But when he became involved with the vampires, suddenly things became more interesting and he preferred being part of whatever was going on. It rarely involved him or his men directly so it was more of an amusement factor, though he would never admit it out loud. But as of late, the continual tension and overwhelming feeling of something being 'off' was starting to eat at him worse than before, especially since his nieces had gotten into trouble. His team was currently not helping the matter.

"The rumbling is getting less and less, but they've isolated some of the hot spots."

Mitch was hunkered down on the map board with Karl, Diego, Bernadine and Lars.

"This here, this structure lead Blake and Serena's team on for two nights and the sounds stop here," he pointed, "but it's gone cold now for over the last 6 hours."

Karl grumbled uneasily, "that's cunt faces' stronghold."

"Cunt faces'?"

"MoThEr mIrAnDA."

"Oh," Mitch replied shortly, "THAT cunt face. If you could be a little more specific from time to time - "

"Fuck off. Keep going."

He cleared his throat with a snicker, "ok so, sounds stop at cunt faces lair and do not branch off like the other locations... But here's the really shitty part," he continued and pulled out another map, laying it flat, "this... this is where Dmitri sent some men. They have access to vampire strongholds with more underground access on this side of the Connecticut border. The tremoring has gotten strong here, but we lose the trail over here - at about this area - and it all goes completely silent, or too deep for us to track. The biggest problem with that is - "

Karl's blood ran cold as he stared at the map, "that is the direct line of access into the underground city."

Two days later and you were still tripping over the very audible and unexplainable "yes" you'd heard when you named the crows.

They'd been completely silent since the interaction and nothing else seemed to change. Although you could almost swear you all had an understanding of each other now. What that meant still wasn't entirely clear. They were all much more keen to get closer to you now; their distance was becoming less and less and you half expected one of them to jump in your lap one of these days.

It was now Wednesday night and it was cooking time with Malka. You'd agreed after all and actually you were kind of excited.

Malka's little abode was cozy and neat. You'd visited a couple times over the years but not too often. It was right above her corner store and it had so much personality it made you quite jealous. Granted, she did live in one of the much older buildings in Manhattan, which was a large part of its charm.

It hadn't started to snow yet but damn it was getting colder. The winters here sucked when that humidity seeped its way in. You rushed your way down the blocks, your scarf bundled around your neck, coat wrapped tightly and soon you found yourself, freezing face and all, in front of the stairway up to Malka's place.

You pressed your gloved finger to the buzzer and it sounded high above, not a second after the click of the door sounded and you forced your way in.

Malka greeting you with open arms, "ahhh shayna punim!" she grinned, pinching your cold cheeks softy, "look at that red nose, blistering cold out there - come, come - let me have your coat."

The spacious living room was already flooded with the most divine smells; she'd already been at it it seemed.

The crown molding on the windows and ceiling were stained from all the years of living, but still, the cream color of the long lost artwork had lost none of its beauty.

Malka's tastes were simple yet lovely. The throw rugs on the worn out wood floors were deep green, chestnut brown, and ocean blue. Handspun from Turkey, delivered by her older brother who had long since passed away. The furniture was as one might suspect; antique wood chairs that were hand carved that had hand sewn pillows. The couches were younger but well worn, comfortable, and forest green to match the rug. An old and very unused piano sat in the far corner with stacks upon stacks of piano books. Plants, crystals, mementos, and knickknacks were on any free flat surface that could be seen, and her walls housed family portraits and photographs, and a few antique opera posters from way back in the day.

Malka loved music, played the piano beautifully, and was an avid opera connoisseur. She'd threatened to drag you to one several times but you never actually went. Though, it was something you did want to do at one point in your life. One day you'd make the old woman happy and go.

As she shoved you towards the kitchen, you sighed happily and shrugged off the cold.

"So happy you came, ketzeleh," she said as she patted your back, "I've just put some tea on. Honey in yours?"

You hummed happily, "yes please!"

"Sit sit. We'll warm you up first, zen we cook."

Taking a seat at one of the old rickety kitchen chairs, you nestled into the warmth of her home and admired the old plates, tea cups, and vases that lined the kitchen walls. The kitchen was a pale light blue but everything else was a completely different color. Unlike the living room, the kitchen was splashed with every color under the sun. No two plates, cups, mugs, or towels matched and it was perfect in your opinion. If you didn't know any better you'd think the woman was a witch by her eclectic taste and mere look of her home. So many odds and ends acquired throughout her long life just made you love this little darling even more. Something about being here always made you feel more at home than your own apartment.

Leo, a very large and bushy tabby cat came sauntering into the kitchen from the hallway and made his way to your lap, hopping up with sheer grace for his size. He settled down and began to purr, you smiled and immediately started weaving your fingers through his silky soft fur.

"Oh, Leo, you big oaf," Malka teased, "not a moment for her to get settled before your butt of fluff demands attention, tsk!"

When the kettle began to hiss and sing, Malka pulled it off the old but well kept stove and poured it into your favorite, hand sculpted mug she'd gotten in Ireland on one of her many trips around the world.

You took a sip and held the warmth in your cold hands, humming with pure satisfaction, "this hits the spot, thank you."

Her little wink and smirk met you over her own cup.

Malka had two dishes to teach you tonight: Shakshuka and Challah. The two of you started with the Challah bread, and though you didn't mind most of it, the braiding of the dough tested all of your patience since perfection plagued your very existence. But, after some mindful coaching and reassurance from Malka, you were finally able to get it to your liking. She grinned the whole time as she slipped both breads into the oven.

"Now!" she clapped her hands gleefully, "shakshuka is so easy only a mashugana can mess it up..." she winked, "grab that cast iron skillet on the wall, will you? Then come to the stove."

You did as instructed and joined her at the stove as she pulled out a carton of eggs, tomato paste, canned tomatoes, and flung open her cupboard of spices, plucking several and bringing them over.

"It's healthy, filling, and scrumptious. My grandmother made this every weekend when we visited. Call it a comfort food from my heart. Now, hand me the oil, eh?"

Watching her bustle about and drop the oil in the pan, Malka then guided you through the sauce and how to flavor it. The smell settled in your nose and lungs and before long your mouth was watering. Once the sauce had been set to simmer, you were instructed to poach 4 eggs and drop them into the sauce one by one, garnishing them with some salt, pepper, and chives.

"Eyy, look at that!" Malka beamed, "you can be taught! Grab two plates, let's eat."

This was easily now one of your favorite dishes. Granted, Alcina's pasta still held the gem of your heart, but this was second in line. Oh, how you wished you could cook this for her to enjoy.

Without saying a word, Malka could see you were very clearly reminiscent of something as you sat quietly eating, a knowing glint in her eye watching you unknowingly.

"How are things in your life, dear?" she asked softly, "you have seemed to be very happy lately, it warms me to see it."

Your brows raised and you looked at her mid-bite, caught off guard by her question of course. She was never one to pry and you knew you could trust her with anything, why you knew that you weren't sure, but this; Alcina; your vampire lover? You wouldn't even know how to say it without sounding like a total lunatic.

"Oh," you smiled gently, "nothing really, just feeling good I guess? Life's been good."

Malka hrmphed with a chuckle, "fine then," she giggled, "but you introduce them to me at least someday, mm?"

Oh for hell sake. Was the woman a mind-reader?

Unable to hide your blush, you simply nodded your guilt away with silent agreement as you took another big bite in hopes she wouldn't ask anything ese.

The two of you bantered for a while after dinner; she always had the best stories and wisdom that she inadvertently spread at every moment. But soon you were bundled up and ready to face the frigid night air to get back home.

You said your goodbye to the aloof and stretched out Leo on the couch, scratching his chin lovingly before heading to the foyer.

Malka helped tighten your scarf around your neck and she eyed you fondly.

"You are special my girl. You know this, hmm?"

Shrugging gently, you smiled, "I suppose."

"No, no, ketzeleh, you are," she said with a knowing smile, her finger poking you softly in the chest, "a good heart, a wise old soul. You have many gifts waiting for you... You, my dear, have so much to master."

Her words made you stop and ponder but not for very long as she was pushing you now out the door, hurrying you to not be in the dark cold night for too long. With a chaste kiss to each cheek she sent you on your way after a warm embrace and you were off.

Cryptic, precious, odd old woman, you thought with a smile as you went on your way.

Malka had donned a large fluffy coat and stepped out into the balcony off the living room to watch you leave and make sure you were safe. To her left on the balcony ledge sat a crow which she regarded with a humble nod.

"Keep your eyes on her, Ebony. She will come into her own by force. It is already beginning and she'll need our guidance."

With that, the crow took flight, following your path from high above.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu/female reader #alcina dimitrescu/original female character #alcina dimitrescu/reader #lesbian #f/f #fanfic #wlw #donna beneviento #karl heisenberg #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu

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deaniewithalittleweanie · 16 days ago

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The American health care system is such a fucking sham

You can be incredibly well off and have every resource available to you and still almost get killed

Basically OVER A YEAR AGO my dad got a blood test back that showed very high calcium. Dr says this could be a sign of heart disease. He wants a heart catheter.

Nope. Insurance denies it

GRANTED!!!! My dad started his own company in 2016 and is a successful business owner. Money is not an issue (well. It is an issue for the heart cath because that got quoted as $10k+ and yes he is well off but also not that well off). He has great insurance. They still denied his doctor’s request.

So then they make him do a stress test. That’s booked several months out. Shows minor irregularities but nothing serious. Major roadblock.

Months later Doctor tries again and insurance denies the heart cath. They say he can get a CT scan. It’s booked for months in advance.

That of course shows nothing because I’m not sure if you know this but CT scans are dogshit at showing heart blockages.

So they request the heart cath again and FINALLY it gets approved. It’s 4 months away.

THEN in August he almost bleeds to death from GI bleeding and lands himself in the hospital for a week. Heart cath was supposed to happen that week. It gets pushed to a week ago.

So Monday comes and they’re hoping to go in, find the blockages, and if they do they’ll put in some stents no biggie.

WRONG.

All five major arteries in his heart are 95% blocked. Yes including the widowmaker. Basically the only reason my father didn’t die of a massive heart attack before this is because he has end-stage liver disease and has no goddamn platelets so he isn’t able to throw a clot big enough to be a problem even with that little space!!

Yeah so that was a week ago. He got transferred to a big cardiac unit an hour from home. This morning he went under for surgery and got QUADRUPLE bypass. Everything went well so hopefully he’s able to recover smoothly.

I just can’t help but feel so angry because if the system is failing him, someone with more resources and money than most, THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE OTHER PEOPLE SUPPOSED TO DO???

Like genuinely how. What is the point of the medical system if it just lets people die. Had my dad not also conveniently had liver issues, he would have had a heart attack and died before now. Point blank.

I hate this country so goddamn much.

#medical #politics #pigeon.txt

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satyaranjan7605 · 10 months ago

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GIS In Our Daily Lives

The involvement of Geographic Information Systems (GIS) in our daily lives is pervasive, influencing and enhancing various aspects across different sectors. The integration of GIS into everyday activities has become integral for decision-making, planning, and optimizing resources. GIS helps city planners and transportation experts to provide them with information like maps, satellite pictures, population statistics, and infrastructure data. GIS helps them make better decisions when designing cities and transportation systems that are sustainable and good for the environment.

The following points elucidate the notable involvement of GIS in our daily lives:

Navigation and Location Services: GIS provides monitoring functions through the visual display of spatial data and precise geographical positioning of monitored vehicles, whereas GPS provides accurate, clear, and precise information on the position and navigation of a monitored or tracked vehicle in real-time and at the exact location.GIS is at the core of navigation applications and location-based services on smartphones. It enables accurate mapping, real-time navigation, and geolocation services, assisting individuals in finding locations, planning routes, and navigating unfamiliar areas.

E-Commerce and Delivery Services: GIS software is a powerful tool for supply chain network planning. It helps determine the optimal location for distribution centers, warehouses, or other supply facilities. GIS is utilized in logistics and delivery services for optimizing routes, tracking shipments, and ensuring timely deliveries. E-commerce platforms leverage GIS to enhance the efficiency of their supply chain and last-mile delivery processes.

Weather Forecasting and Disaster Management: Many states are using GIS dashboard to monitor the rainfall across the state, on a real-time basis, from the data shared by rain sensors installed at various locationsGIS plays a crucial role in weather forecasting and disaster management. It assists meteorologists in analyzing spatial data, predicting weather patterns, and facilitating timely responses to natural disasters by mapping affected areas and coordinating emergency services.

Healthcare Planning and Disease Monitoring: Geographic Information Systems enable the visualization and monitoring of infectious diseases. Additionally GIS records and displays the necessary information that health care needs of the community as well as the available resources and materials. GIS supports public health initiatives by mapping the spread of diseases, analyzing healthcare resource distribution, and assisting in the planning of vaccination campaigns. It aids in identifying high-risk areas and optimizing healthcare service delivery.

Social Media and Geo-tagging: GIS also helps in geotagging and other location related information in posts, it’s tools can map and visualize the spatial distribution of social media activity. This analysis can reveal trends, hotspots, and patterns in user engagement across different geographic areas. Many social media platforms incorporate GIS for geo-tagging, allowing users to share their location and experiences. This feature enhances social connectivity and facilitates the sharing of location-specific information.

Smart City Initiatives: The Geographic Information System (GIS) offers advanced and user-friendly capabilities for Smart City projects and allows to capture, store and manipulate, analyze and visualize spatially referenced data. It is used for spatial analysis and modeling. It is the cornerstone of smart city planning, enabling the integration of data for efficient urban management. It supports initiatives related to traffic management, waste disposal, energy consumption, and overall infrastructure development.

Education and Research: GIS is increasingly utilized in education and research for visualizing and analyzing spatial data. It enables students and researchers to explore geographic relationships, conduct field studies, and enhance their understanding of various subjects.

Agricultural Management and Precision Farming: Farmers leverage GIS to optimize agricultural practices by analyzing soil conditions, crop health, and weather patterns. Precision farming techniques, facilitated by GIS, contribute to increased crop yields and sustainable farming practices.

Real Estate and Property Management: In the real estate sector, GIS aids in property mapping, land valuation, and site selection. It provides real estate professionals with valuable insights into spatial relationships, market trends, and optimal development opportunities.

Tourism and Recreation: GIS enhances the tourism industry by providing interactive maps, route planning, and location-based information. It assists tourists in exploring destinations, finding attractions, and navigating efficiently.

The broad and varied involvement of GIS in our daily lives underscores its significance as a technology that not only facilitates geographic data analysis but also contributes to the efficiency, safety, and interconnectedness of modern society. As GIS applications continue to evolve, their impact on daily activities is expected to further expand and refine.

#gis #architectdesign #architecture #city #education #geographic information system(gis)#geographical indication

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