#Hatred has done nothing but be nice to all the followers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesilmarillionblog · 17 days ago

Text

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟗

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (minors DNI), SMUT!, memory loss, language, creeplander, naive reader, vaginal fingering

Word Count: 6664

A/N: English is not my first language.

Song: 'Alone with My Thoughts on a Windy Night' by Lønely.

Butcher got in touch with you and asked you to come in the morning after you and Soldier Boy finally had a peaceful dinner and a pleasant talk. When Soldier Boy heard his voice, his face changed. He showed as much respect he could, and you were relieved that he remained calm during your conversation with Butcher. You were shocked by how he behaved, given his hatred for Butcher. It was nice.

He was, however, clearly prepared to kill Butcher and his whole team without hesitation. After all, he had his own reasons.

You made an effort to be more polite and gentle compared to earlier since you didn't want Soldier Boy to change his mind. After all, he had been miserable since the morning.

When Soldier Boy asked you to eat more, you said, “I'm full, thank you,” breaking the silence.

Stating: “You must eat so that you can regain your strength.” He tugged your chair smoothly till you stopped at his side just as you were ready to get up. “How are you going to get your memory back if you behave like this?” You let out a gasp and reached for his shoulder for support.

You turned your head away and moaned, “I'm about to puke,” as he tried to make you eat more. “And I’m sure eating more has nothing to do with gaining memory back.”

He said, “Of course it does,” as he kept eating like a greedy beast. As you saw him swallow half of a cheeseburger in one bite, your mouth fell open in astonishment. “Your mind cannot function as well if you don't eat properly since you can't regain your energy. It's simple.”

You finally picked one of the pies and began eating after seeing him enjoying the dinner so energetically.

Ignoring his comments, you giggled, “Can you eat any faster?” He ate everything on the table with great dedication and focus. Your chuckle transformed into an empathetic smile before fading away as you realized he had also been asleep for months. Just like you. You both had missed so much.

Until he was full and given up, you didn't say anything. It is likely that his jaw became weary from functioning for two hours. Then he burped, stretching his powerful muscles.

"Fuck. Sorry for that," he stated while raising his eyebrows and giving you a regretting glance.

"It's alright." You laughed at his attempt to appear gentle as you saw him struggle to avoid making the same sound. He looked funny when he tried to be kind.

Soldier Boy was about to say that you used to be disgusted by him burping whenever you two ate together, but now you didn't appear to feel that way. But if you complained again, he'd feel better. He kept this thought to himself because there was no use in ruining the atmosphere at the dinner table, though.

He took a look at you and said, “We can leave now if you are done.” He would tell Homelander that he didn't want to be bothered till tomorrow later.

As you swiftly swallowed the final piece of pie, you nodded to him and started to stand up. You swallowed the piece and then licked your lips. “I am ready.”

After following you, he realized there was just one pie remaining, so he took it while adjusting his suit. To remove the unpleasant smell from his body, he needs a cold shower.

He winked at you and swallowed the entire pie. “I'm going to eat your pie if you are okay with it.” You were taken aback by his greed. He would probably eat until he felt worn out if someone challenged him.

“It’s fine.”

Soldier Boy kept his hand on your back and continued to rub it there while you were on the elevator, as if he could sense your nervousness and was trying to reassure you. On the seventh floor, the elevator stopped. The person standing in front of you was Homelander. You wanted to break all of his teeth when you saw the big smile on his ignorant face.

You remembered Homelander even if you didn't remember Soldier Boy. It was impossible for anyone to forget such a tyrant, a monster. If there was enough space in the elevator, you could back off a step, but there was no way to avoid him at this point. He was staring at you with his deadly blue eyes with joy, as if he had finally seen his buddy after a long time. The way he looked at you made you sick.

Sensing your uneasiness, Soldier Boy's posture changed, and he immediately took his hand in an attempt to show that you were his and that Homelander could not harm you or anyone else. But it didn't calm you down. Despite being his biological father, Homelander didn't give a damn about what other people thought. You were sure he didn't care what Soldier Boy was thinking about him. He only cared about his own animal instincts.

The thought of him being the son of Soldier Boy got your body tense. It felt strange.

“Look who we have here.” Homelander put one gloved palm on his chest as if he couldn't believe his eyes and added, “I guess someone changed sides,” in a happy tone. “I'm glad to see you in Vought with Soldier Boy, safe and sound.”

“Cut this shit off,” Soldier Boy said before he could react.

If Homelander referred to him as ‘dad’ or anything, that would be disgusting. He was undoubtedly cautioned not to be called like this by Soldier Boy.

Homelander grinned proudly as he saw your hands locked together with Soldier Boy's. “I'm just relieved that you're finally on the right side. But I guess you're heading out.” Homelander was ready to say that you are now his mother-in-law, but he changed his mind since he didn't want to bother Soldier Boy. It would touch his nerves for sure. He had become overloaded with work; there was just too much to do. “I want to know how your former team is doing. They must be heartbroken to see you change sides. I hope that they took it well. Especially Butcher.”

Soldier Boy inhaled deeply and was ready to say something nasty when you said, “They are doing fine.”

“Find your own spoiled son first and don't disturb me or her until tomorrow, and also politicians are being a pain on my ass,” Soldier Boy replied finally, pulling you closer to him as he became irritated with Homelander's conversation with you. “You have to start somewhere.”

“At some point, they will stop talking. I know you're not very good with the Internet, but I can tell you that the number of people who are rooting for you keeps increasing every hour. Now that you're popular again, make sure it stays that way. Nothing else is important. You just don’t blow up.”

Homelander waved his hand, seemingly unconcerned by them. “But first we must get rid of Butcher and the others. I considered Vicky unkillable, but he fucking murdered her together with the others. That is an extremely serious problem.”

Hearing Homelander discuss killing Butcher and others made you uneasy. You didn't want the others dead, even if you couldn't recall them and they lied to you all together. He was obviously referring to Butcher on purpose. It was intended to either annoy you or serve as a warning through you. It didn't really matter that Soldier Boy was holding your hand at the time. Both of them desired the deaths of your friends.

Soldier Boy kept holding your hand even if you wanted to release it. Being around people who wished to kill your friends was frightening and unsettling. You couldn't sympathize with Homelander, but you could understand Soldier Boy's motivation for a reason. Homelander was a disease.

“We'll discuss such matters later, and they won't cause any more issues.” Soldier Boy simply stated, “Don't fucking call me until tomorrow. There are other things that need to be resolved first.” He avoided talking about Butcher and others with Homelander while you're still in the very same place as them.

Homelander's actions angered him, but he would handle it later.

You exhaled in relief as the elevator came to a stop and you and he left Vought Tower, Homelander, and his crap words behind. Until you got into the car, Soldier Boy continued holding your hand. Both anxiety and worry were still causing your heart to beat. You were afraid of Homelander and the terrible things he could do. It was useless to deny it. If it would benefit him, he could do any vile thing he wanted, no matter what they were.

Soldier Boy's head turned to you as he drove you to his house, feeling the dense atmosphere between you. “He wouldn't dare to hurt you.”

You should have been soothed by his powerful voice, but it didn't.

You openly commented, “It feels wrong seeing you cooperate with him. I'm not sure if the old me that you were in love with would appreciate that.”

Although you didn't want to come across as harsh, you found yourself talking to him as though you were prepared for another debate. But it wasn't what you wanted. Just as you chose to believe in Soldier Boy from the start and continue to do so now, you wanted to be certain that he would always choose you.

“If only you could remember what happened, it would be easier for you to understand,” he said. You felt terrible because you thought he could've been a little nasty and sound harsh, but he wasn't. He was just calm.

He took a big breath after looking at your perplexed look. “Even after finding out that Homelander was my biological son, I still wanted to kill him just as much as you did. He's just a cheap lab product, so it didn't really mean anything, but I was still going to kill them all. It may have turned out differently today if your pals hadn't betrayed me there.”

His serene and honest explanation made you feel a range of complex emotions.

You attempted to picture your life with Soldier Boy and wondered how it would be if you didn't lose your memories. With Butcher and the CIA's assistance, Homelander would die and Vought would be destroyed. It sounds like a nice and peaceful world. The day you lost your memories was a vast void that you were unable to fill despite your best efforts.

“I didn't mean to blame you,” you added sadly, attempting to show him that you truly felt sorry for him for everything. Soldier Boy didn't appear to be a despot or ruthless person, despite what Butcher told you. “All I need to know is that you won't participate in their evil plans as Homelander and the other Seven members do. I can't stay with a man who hurts other people.”

“It's not my intention,” explained Soldier Boy. “I can't say that I've done nice things in the past, but I'm... different now.”

“That's good to hear.”

You both needed the quiet and tranquility that the remainder of the route offered. You were relieved that Soldier Boy was kind enough to purchase a house because you had been so stressed out after spending the entire day at Vought Tower. That would be more comfortable. You were aware that Homelander controlled and stayed in the Tower, and you could not possibly sleep there in the same building with him.

After parking in front of a very decent house, Soldier Boy used his keys to unlock the door and softly brushed behind your back, encouraging you to come inside. Like his ego, you would have expected him to have a big house, but it was actually rather lovely and appeared surprisingly modest. The ambiance was pleasant because of the dim light and the dominant use of brown and green shades.

Although the oriental rugs between the coach and the TV were completely un-American, it appeared that he was full of surprises and had unique design preferences. In fact, it appeared to be a charming house from the 1990s. It was also modern, so it looked a bit mixed. You were fine with it.

You could feel him watching you enthusiastically as he shut the door, as if he was trying to gauge how you were going to react.

As you entered and lightly touched the surface of a large green coach, you told him, “Your house is very...sweet,” with a sincere smile. Your heart was racing frantically as the atmosphere grew heavier. After all, you were in the same house with the strongest Supe. There was nothing wrong with feeling like that.

You noticed him taking a sigh of relief. You turned to face him as he drew closer. “Our home,” said Soldier Boy instantly. The quickness with which he could melt your heart was terrifying. “You'd told me once that you didn't like big houses.”

Another memory that was missing. God knew how many there were of them.

You said, “Ah.” Now, it was painful to be unable to recall a single conversation you had with him. You grasped his hand with gratitude, realizing that he did care about your taste when he designed and purchased the house. Not even knowing where you were, he must have thought about you and what he would do once he found you.

Now, you didn't even know his name.

Your heart ached, and every argument you had with him felt wrong.

You inquired, “Where will I be sleeping?” You could look at the entire house later. You felt exhausted even though you hadn't done anything since the morning other than hang out with Soldier Boy in Vought. A lot of things would change after tomorrow. You needed to relax your thoughts and your mind.

“I didn't get you a separate room. I hadn't planned to find you suffering from memory loss,” he sighed, clearly upset by the way things had turned out with you.

“Sorry,” you said in a whisper while genuinely studying his eyes. The situation was hard to convey in words, but it was agonizing to desire to comfort him and reassure him that everything would be fine soon. You only wanted him not to blame you, regardless of whether you remembered him or not. You truly felt sorry.

“It's alright.”

Soldier Boy led you upstairs to see your room after seeing your attempts to suppress your yawns.

Soldier Boy's hands remained on your back the entire time, seemingly sensing your nervousness as he led you upstairs to show you the room you would be staying in from now on. Even if you had been with him for a long time, despite the fact that you couldn't recall those times, he was still kind of a stranger. Fixing it would take some time. Of course, there wouldn't be any issues if you allowed him to use Cate's abilities on you. But you weren't prepared to do this. To find out whether he truly loved you, you had decided to get to know him as well as let him get used to the new you.

In an attempt to show that you were cool and prevent him from bringing up the Cate issue again, you looked about and softly touched the massive wardrobe and then the bed's cushion. You were too exhausted to engage in the same debate. A deal is a deal.

You were right to check the wardrobe to see if there were any clothes for you. The answer is yes; he had considered everything. You were devastated by the idea of him setting up the room in anticipation of finding you and building a life with you. You couldn't ignore his effort, even if you didn't remember him. He must have been really disappointed to find you this way. You were a disappointment.

You said, “It's a lovely room,” as he walked slowly behind you, making your heart beat. Being in the same room with a supe made it difficult to concentrate on important issues. Once your guy was a supe. He was a supe that was once your boyfriend. Most probably.

“I'm glad you liked it.”

Soldier Boy hadn't planned to show you the room that was. He hadn't imagined this moment like this, but what was done was done. For the moment, it was all he had. He felt that it was something like displaying your room to a complete stranger who looked just like you, but he soon brushed these feelings aside as he became irritated. You might reestablish your connection with one another. Everything would be okay as long as you had each other. All he needed to do was wait three months. Not a single day more.

By locating Cate and allowing her to use her abilities on you, he could have made you remember everything. The thought of forcing you to do something like that was an option, but it wasn't right. Now you were even more stubborn. Your submissive and docile side, which put all of your trust in him, was far better. But now he had to put up with whatever you had. He might be able to make you change the way you view things later.

Soldier Boy stepped back and set his firearm on the table. Shortly after you sat down on the bed, he started taking off his supe suit and loosening his belt. Your cheeks flushed, unsure of just where to gaze. Soldier Boy, however, grinned mischievously as he removed his hefty chest plate and then everything on him after hearing your heart race. Even though your eyes begged you to stare at his packs, thick belly, and massive shoulders, you chose to look straight into his eyes.

You tried your hardest to imagine how you had once before touched each other and how many times you had touched his body. You were happy that he couldn't read what you were thinking.

You watched him enter the bathroom and turn on the water. Finally, he turned back to the room and removed his gloves. All he had left were his pants. It was a flawless appearance, no doubt about it. Fortunately, he didn't say anything obscene while you were watching him strip off. It was lovely to see him dismantle his outfit piece by piece. His muscles alone were enough to give you an idea of his strength.

He finally laughed as he said, "You don't have to torture your eyes and force them not to look at me," taking pleasure in your small battle. "Enjoy the view."

You only muttered, "Funny," but you were encouraged to take a quick glance at his physique.

Soldier Boy remarked, “If you need a quick shower, you can join me, you know. To save the water.” as he set his phone aside and unbuttoned his pants to remove them as well.

You responded, avoiding eye contact this time, “Unfortunately, I already took a shower in the morning, remember?”

“Your loss then.”

When he removed his trousers, your cheeks flushed, and you lay on the bed to avoid staring at him until he removed his boxers as well. Even though he remained silent, you could hear him smirking. When he entered the restroom, you were now watching the ceiling. While he was having a shower, you finally got up and dressed.

Soldier Boy emerged from the bathroom with a small towel over his belly as you looked over the stuff he had purchased for you inside the wardrobe. As soon as he glanced at you with a broad grin on his face, you immediately stepped back and swiftly lay on the bed, cradling your pillow. He was clearly delighted by your attempt to get a glimpse of his physique as if it were your first time. Since it was truly your first time, he thought it was funny to see how you reacted.

He abruptly dropped the towel from his belly, revealing his entire wet body to you as he turned to face the wardrobe.

“Don't you have shame?” You grumbled as you finally dropped your pillow beneath your head after tightening your fingers around it. Otherwise, you would bite it out of excitement and embarrassment. Pressing the yearning that was waking between your legs was challenging. You were watching as the drips from his damp hair fell shamelessly down his back and onto the floor, as well as down his tight ass.

“I'll let you enjoy the view. We've seen each other naked a hundred times.”

“Sorry, I must have a weak memory, but I think that is something fixable at least.”

“You know what they say; practice makes perfect. It will be my pleasure to help you in this.” After giving you a playful response, Soldier Boy turned to face you entirely nude, revealing his entire wide, muscular physique with pride. He's already excited by your lively and humorous demeanor, which is causing him to think about dirty things. When he noticed your bold attitude, his body forgot the chilly shower he had just had. He was relieved that you held your attitude.

Before he put on his boxers, you had a quick glimpse at his manhood. You felt a little uneasy due to his size and questioned how you could possibly have taken his beast inside of you without Temp-V. It must have been hard for you both to have sex because he was a supe. Perhaps that was somewhat painful from your side. The only way to know was to do it.

You allowed him enough space to lie next to you on the bed when he also put on his sweatpants and t-shirt. It kind of felt odd. As you observed him, the strange, weighty feeling was still present in the air. Once more, the sadness you experienced in Butcher's home, where you and Soldier Boy spent the night, was palpable. You couldn't explain it or understand it; it was just a powerful emotion. It seemed like an ode to the memories you and he had lost. You could rely on it, which made you feel comfortable around him and less frightened of him.

Thus, you moved a bit closer to him while he gazed at you expectantly, as if he were paying attention to how you reacted to him, as if he were attempting to enter your head and find out what you were thinking about him.

“Come here,” he murmured, and as soon as he noticed your cautious attempt to stay near, he immediately embraced you in his powerful arms.

You took a big breath of his fresh scent. His aroma was a combination of wood and ocean, a wild but mixed scent. You may claim that this wasn't a stranger at all because it has been said that people had smell memories. You could practically taste and almost recall his in your mouth.

By complimenting him, you tried to ignore the space between you. “You smell nice,” you remarked. You didn't want to forget him, that's for sure. You desired to remember what you were missing. All you wanted was for things to go escalete naturally, though. He had to give you enough time to get to know him again.

Then you recalled his sour remarks that if you forgot him, he wouldn't love you. Did he tell the truth to you? Was he being honest? You hoped he could give his name to you without you asking for it anymore. But you didn't press him.

He just responded, pulling you closer. “Hmm.”

As he watched you, you placed one of your hands on his sharp jaw and massaged and stroked him there. Even though you were even unable to recall his name, he was a little perplexed by how at ease you were with him, but he was completely cool with it. In that one real instant, your heated arguments earlier meant absolutely nothing. You went through all of that pain for that little, gentle, and tender moment.

As if to show you that he would be gentle after you took Temp-V, his powerful hands lightly patted your back. But you couldn't ignore his strength; you knew he would easily rip you in two if he utilized it even little on you. You weren't scared at all, yet it was enough to make you shiver. Simply put, it was thrilling. You felt safe and sound.

Your hands moved to his, caressed his still-wet hair, and then paused at his neck, feeling encouraged. You kept checking his green eyes to make sure he was alright, moving your head and body closer to his lips. Then you closed your eyes, overcome by his intense stare, and instinctively pressed your lips to his warm ones. Feeling something and attempting to restore what you had lost was perfectly normal.

You could see he wasn't expecting you to act so brazen and eager, but he immediately regained his composure and kissed you passionately and without hesitation.

Soldier Boy had missed you and needed you more than ever; there was no doubt about that. Both of you were touching each other, and the yearning to feel something was agonizing. That was all he had, but he hadn't imagined your first night in your home like this. Your agreement would be terminated if he endured three more months of pain. It seems that it would take some time to make you remember everything. Yet Soldier Boy was patient when it came to you.

It did not, however, imply that he would stay away from you until you recalled. Fortunately, it was okay for you to go all the way and let him look after you and fuck you as he desired. He needed to touch you, feel you, be inside of you, and prove you belonged to him once again. Your body also needs that. The way you responded to him made it crystal clear.

Soldier Boy didn't lose another second to move on top of you without breaking the kiss. Although the kiss was nearly slow, it was urgent, desperate, and passionate. Your bodies yearned to be close.

Even though you gasped in surprise, you continued to kiss him softly as he positioned himself between your legs. The hardness between your legs seemed like it wanted to go through your underwear and sleeping clothes, but you tried to ignore it. Soldier Boy's kisses were intense, passionate, and full of hunger. To find a more comfortable position, you shifted slightly beneath him. He forced you to lie properly by pushing your cushion away and pulling you down slightly beneath him. You seemed to be at his mercy.

As you continued to kiss him tenderly, your hands tingled as they touched his thick beard. You had no control over your lips and mouth; they simply wouldn't quit. It was as though his powerful hands controlled every part of your body to find the things you forgot about. His kisses were becoming more forceful and possessive than yours, as though he was also looking for something that he had lost with you.

His hands gripped your hips and pinned them under him while he silently growled and pushed his tongue in your mouth. It wasn't until then that you realized you were rubbing against him to create some friction. Without reluctance or guilt, you reached his belly with your hands, slipped your fingers into his t-shirt, and caressed his pacs. His chest was surprisingly warm, and it was nice to touch and feel his power beneath your fingertips.

Getting to know his muscles and physique again felt amazing. You pondered whether he was also finding the procedure enjoyable. After all, it wasn't his first time with you.

Soldier Boy didn't appear to be going to draw back anytime soon, so you eventually did so to catch your breath.

You attempted to engage in some real conversation as your finger continued to probe his muscles beneath his t-shirt. “You are very warm,” you said, breaking the silence. Since your reunion, you have argued more than you have talked in peace.

Through your lips, Soldier Boy gave you a little smile before he slightly withdrew. Desire was bursting forth and reddening both of your lips.

He remarked, “I can get warmer,” and raised an eyebrow. When he slightly warmed his chest, you gazed at him bewildered and then gasped in surprise. You were shocked, but it didn't hurt.

“Then you must be very useful in winters.”

Even though you weren't sure whether you would go all the way without utilizing Temp-V, you chose to follow his lead and see what transpired. All you could hope for was that he wouldn't leave you unsatisfied. You spread your legs somewhat wider and lifted your hips slightly to signal your need and want to him. Like he was battling you, his tongue and lips were biting yours. You would have gone insane just from the way his muscles were flexing beneath your fingertips. You really needed to feel him.

“Oh yeah?” he said, eventually placing his length between your legs to provide the friction you had been seeking for a while. “I'll keep you so warm and nice."

He kissed you again just after you said, “I hope so,” but this time he was more possessive, as if he was eager to show you that you were his and would do anything you asked from him. It was strange how comfortable and proper it felt to be at his mercy and underneath him.

You even surprised yourself by how loudly you moaned as one of his hands gripped your tits and played with your nipple through your top. You needed the release since you had been teasing each other since the morning, but you weren't sure how to go about it precisely.

Soldier Boy decided you were ready to go further with him after hearing your desperate moans. Since you had been teasing since the morning, you both really needed a moment to relax. His recent chilly shower had no significance at all.

You gasped as he quickly drew back and lowered your sweatpants with your underwear. You kept your hands inside his t-shirt to indicate to him that you were prepared for some foreplay. Feeling his heart pound beneath your hands caused you to calm a little. He needed you as much as you needed him. He still desired you in spite of his thoughts about your new self.

He examined every inch of your body, making your legs tremble with eagerness and coldness. Despite your strong desire to escape from his penetrating gaze, you chose to wait patiently underneath him, telling yourself that you had previously done it a hundred times. There was no cause for fear.

As his hands began to brush across your knees, he smirked slyly and said, “Are you feeling anxious now?” Your chest lifted with strong breaths, and you felt defenseless without a cushion beneath your head.

“No,” you immediately replied. Even though your cheeks were flushed, you chose to be bold. It wasn't your first time with him, you kept telling yourself. “I rather feel... wet.”

When he found nothing unsure on your expression, you could feel him warming up beneath your hand. Despite your best efforts to disguise it, he could see that you were still anxious and bashful, but there was no reluctance. Soldier Boy's hardness was urging him to lower his sweatpants and boxers and go inside you with a single hard thrust. You both needed a little foreplay, but you could lure him into your warm pussy so well. He would properly look after you later.

“Well, I'm having trust issues lately, so I must check myself if you're telling me the truth,” he said in an amusing manner. As you waited for him to act already, you smiled softly at him.

You went crazy as his hands gently moved up your legs and thighs without breaking eye contact. You were actually flowing there as his fingers finally reached your pussy and his lips opened in astonishment and delight. You were completely ruined there. You whimpered quietly as he palmed your pussy and then your slick since you've been feeling sensitive. You had your hips up in expectancy.

“Fuck,” he shrieked, sensing your slippery liquid on his palms. He could simply glide inside you since you were so moist beneath him at the moment. He didn't even have to get you ready. “Guess we have an issue here.”

“Told you,” you mumbled, biting your bruised lips to keep your hungry moans to yourself. You wouldn't say no if he lowered his trousers and shoved his hardness into your pussy since even his hands felt so amazing. You would simply let him fuck you.

Without saying anything, he played with your clit for a brief while before pushing a finger inside without warning. As if you were supposed to take him the way he wished, his finger moved with such ease. He kept an extremely close eye on your reaction. You wanted to get rid of panties and sweatpants so you could move freely beneath him, but his powerful hands prevented you from moving at all. He didn't even need to attempt to get you to come; you could come at any time.

It would be safer if you injected yourself with Temp-V for your first sex after a lengthy period of time apart, but it was hard for Soldier Boy not to take himself in hand and fuck you. He would not risk it without you using Temp-V, although he was usually very cautious when you fucked. He didn't want to be concerned about hurting you while you fucked. You needed that Temp-V.

His finger continued to move inside you, and he asked, “You like this?” Seeing you in such need and desperation beneath him must have thrilled him.

With an “I'm not sure,” you continued to tease him even though you were on the verge of losing your mind from how intense you were feeling at the time. “Need more.”

He began to fuck you rough with two fingers while his jaw tightened. His fingers glided into you with ease since you were sufficiently slippery, but you stiffened up as he began to get a bit too quick and harsh. You started to panic and said, “Careful!” You put your hands on the abdomen as if you were prepared to shove him at any moment. However, he refused to move at all.

“You are greedy, aren't you?” In a gruff voice, he continued, “Let's see what I can do about this.” You guessed he thought you were challenging him. That was good.

This time, you both gasped as he pushed another finger inside. He had thick, rough fingers. Your eye watered with pleasure and intensity, and your hole felt so little in comparison to his two big fingers. You started pleading, “Please.”

“Calm down!”

You closed your eyes as soon as your walls constricted, and you let out a loud moan as you experienced your orgasm before he could add a third finger. While your legs were trembling like a leaf, he kept fucking you with his fingers. You wondered how his cock would feel inside of you because his fingers felt absolutely amazing. As you rode your osgasm properly, Soldier Boy kept fucking you with his fingers while keeping his gaze fixed on you, watching you closely.

He believed he could come in his boxers right there since you looked so lovely and beautiful when you gave yourself all to the pleasure.

It was a feeling he had missed. He had missed seeing you take everything from him the way you needed. He had missed hearing your heartbeat and seeing you grow pleased. You still belonged to him. No matter what, that would never change. Soldier Boy hadn't planned your first night together in your house weeks earlier to be like this, and while it wasn't the ideal scenario, it was still good enough.

Soon, everything will be fine.

When you eventually opened your eyes after riding your orgasm, you noticed Soldier Boy staring at you seriously. When you were really sensitive, he slowly removed his fingers from your pussy. As he tugged up your panties and pajamas, your pulse was pounding wildly. You were unsure on how to proceed at this point.

He immediately stopped you as you put your shaky hands in his sweatpants to let out his cock and offer him the same pleasure he gave you. You gave him a perplexed expression. “Let me..”

He interrupted you right away, saying, “Enough for today.” He surprised you by placing a hard kiss on your forehead before you were able to react.

“I'm alright,” you said, puzzled by his changed attitude. After all, you had been teasing another one since the morning. There was no reason for stopping. “We can continue. I mean it.”

Soldier Boy took a deep breath and swiftly moved your hands away from his throbbing cock. He understood that in order to avoid offending you, he had to be honest with you at this moment. Not because he didn't want it. He was about to lose his mind. “We should get some sleep. If not, I'll end up breaking your hips and bones. For the first time in a long time, I don't trust myself at the moment.”

It was the best way he could describe the issue, and he didn't want to come off as threatening. He wasn’t good at expressing himself anyway.

“Oh,” you simply muttered.

Soldier Boy had made up his mind, but you didn't want to let him be dissatisfied while his hardness continued to give signals to you. Breathing deeply, he returned to his side on the bed and pulled you into his embrace, placing your head on his warm chest. By then, you were all right.

You questioned innocently, “It's not so bad, isn't it? I guess we are good like this. Not as awful as you believe, right?” In less than three months, he might decide that you were okay even if you had no memory of anything at all. Perhaps he would reconsider about giving your new self a chance. He could perhaps fall in love with you again.

Your head was resting on his warm chest, and you couldn't help but smile as a wave of happiness and security washed over you, making you feel better than before. You loved the feeling of being in his strong arms. You couldn't help but bring your body closer to his, as though there were just a single gap between you.

He listened to your heart pounding with delight and said, “Satisfied and happy, huh?” in a playful tone. Soldier Boy couldn't help but feel the same way as he felt your exhilaration and unexpected joy in his arms. Uncontrollably, his arms grew tighter around your entire body.

Soldier Boy kissed your head firmly and with a heavy heart. He couldn't deny that he was perplexed about what was happening between you and that his thoughts and feelings were in chaos. He just knew that he would not allow your memories to fade. No manner what. He decided not to say mean things and destroy your happiness at that time. Letting your memories just fade away would be a betrayal of everything you had built together.

He only said, “Not so bad,” recalling your final days together, which had been months ago. His heart longed for what he craved in you. He missed you.

You allowed your body to rest a little bit under Soldier Boy's strong arms after he gave you an encouraging response, and you closed your eyes peacefully as happiness caused your heart to race with relief and relaxation.

⋆──⛥──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──⛥──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──⛥──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──⛥──⋆

A/N: Please let me know what you think. Comments are keep me going. ♡

Taglist: @smexydilflover @deebris @coolrobloxkid28 @endrfairy @libby99hb @raynamorono23 @cwutesygrl @ladysparkles78 @seokjinluvb0t @deangirl96

@whendiditendalthoughenjoyment @mostlymarvelgirl @dilfsandmartinis @deans-spinster-witch

@mayafatimakhan @riah1606 @ahoytothestorm @hells-dragon

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @ladykitana90 @xmariakx @demodemo909 @placeboetkisi @sukunassfinger @startingstar @iwouldfightforfrenchie

@badbishsblog @n-o-p-e-never @mochminnie @idonotknowenglish @ratkidcalledallie

@unleashthelion @lightandshadow31 @tulipsvanilla

@yinmaggiorebass @cnmcgee @roseamie01 @ilovecooperhoward @peachhiz

100 notes · View notes

reddesires · 4 months ago

Note

I'm new to asking for something (I love your writings) because I don't know what makes you uncomfortable writing but... I have a request but don't do it if you don't want to

How about one from Koba? the new human who wants to be friends with the bonobo even though he growls at him as a warning for approaching him and being his friend because maybe he likes him in some way

Koba Human Friend Headcanons

A/N: I love stories about the grumpy bonobo who has no choice but to be nice to the stinky human, lol I find this too funny, honestly

•He refers to you as a pest. He'll growl and snarl in attempts of chasing you off, but it's useless as you insist on following him around. Caesar already warned him off of harming you in any way, he's obviously very disgruntled every time Caesar throws him a warning glance when Koba's feels he's at his wits end at your presence hovering over him.

•In a way he gets used to you following him around, it's like stray who you fed once and now your their lord and savior leading them to salvation, only except he didn't feed you at all nor would he throw you a scrap.

•He calls you stinky every chance he gets. 'Stinky human', 'Stinky pest', and it's almost a term of endearment now if you look past the disgusted edge that dripped off the vowels of his words, he finds enjoyment in degrading you as if you were a lesser being but he'll come around possibly? Maybe not.

•Caesar made you Koba's responsibility since you insist on following him around in hopes of a friendship, Caesar totally gives you the side eye at your lack of caring for Koba's clear resentment towards you but you just look past it as if there wasn't a thought behind those big doe eyes, he truly pities you for wanting such a rocky (and not secretly bloodthirsty) friendship.

•He prefers you to follow him in silence. Any sort of sound or attempt of conversation is met with a menacing glare or vengeful snarl, the gleam of his canines in clear view for all to see. Somehow, you don't take it to heart, only sidestepping back into your usual lane, and it's back to silence and following the grumpy bonobo.

•Other apes would grow curious and ask you why do you follow Koba around even though he really doesn't like you, and your response is always the same. "he's my friend, I like him," a happy go lucky response whilst Koba glowers in resentful misery at your statement, a dark cloud over his head for the rest of the day.

•He thinks it's unusual punishment, he hates humans with a passion, they had done nothing but bring him to the depths of trauma and unrelenting hatred for their treatment of him but now here he is, with a human that follows him around everyday as if their raccoon following their food source, it's sickening. (He secretly doesn't mind it despite the fuss he displays each time.)

•He'll grow more used to your presence and it'll improve only slightly, you'll go from annoying raccoon status to Gnat status, you'll hover and he'll swat at you in hopes of chasing you away but you'll still linger and he'll give up on the efforts.

#koba x human reader #koba x reader #koba planet of the apes #planet of apes x reader #planet of the apes #pota #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction

84 notes · View notes

idolomantises · 2 years ago

Text

I think I’m gonna discuss this once and hopefully never have to bring it up again. Originally I wanted to talk about it on Twitter but people are very disrespectful when it comes to mental health so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Basically, I haven’t been doing so great, mentally. Nothing bad has happened to me, I’m safe and surrounded by people I care about, and it’s been like that for months. I just, I haven’t been feeling good.

For people who do follow me on accounts like Twitter and Instagram, you may have noticed I haven’t posted anything new since January. I was struggling to feel motivated to make something for my main accounts despite having countless ideas I’d love to work on. I feel better now and do plan on getting something done in March, but that sudden lack of motivation is pretty rare for me. Art is not only my job but a big hobby for me, I just love drawing. I did get some nsfw art done at least.

I don’t know what really prompted my mental health decline, I’ve been getting a few worried messages and fanart because someone insulted my art. But that didn’t hurt me at all, it actually boosted my account and patreon.

I guess I just… got sad?

I have a really bad tendency to suppress and even ignore my trauma and feelings of guilt. And I guess one day I really sat with my thoughts and I just, lost it I guess. I have so much traumatic memories and sudden and intense feelings of self loathing, something I’ve never felt in almost a decade, that it got overwhelming. I couldn’t reassure myself, I couldn’t really talk to anyone about it because how do you confront things that happened years ago? You feel almost irrational. It’s just memories that haunt you, it’s nothing physical or tangible and yet it’s a crushing feeling of anxiety, self hatred and resentment.

I was crying almost every day, and crying so much that my eyes kept hurting long after I was done, and I could barely see my own screen. I’ve had paranoid thoughts about myself and others, thoughts I can’t get into because they’re so deeply irrational. I was feeling suicidal urges and thoughts of self harm. I don’t see myself doing it, but it’s so frequent and overwhelming it’s like I’m already planning my suicide note.

I was talking to my therapist about it, that I was starting to hate being alive. That I hated living. That I could spend the next 50 years of my life with no more conflict or trauma and I’d still be in intense misery and turmoil. They’re feelings I couldn’t really bring myself to tell friends about because what could they say? How do you calm yourself down and reassure yourself. I can’t even talk about my trauma verbally without crying. And it’s funny because sometimes minor irks started to affect me negatively. I was feeling anxious about what to draw because I didn’t want to do deal with homophobic backlash.

I went to a therapist, I talked to friends, Ive been working out more and eating better, I did everything I should do to improve my mental health and all of a sudden a single night just sitting in my room destroyed everything I was slowly building up over the past 5 years.

It’s been really difficult for me. I think also, I just felt so much guilt over not being the best person I could be. I decided to lessen my online usage, not just for my mental health but because I really wanted to work on being a better person. I want to stop hating myself and letting my trauma push me down and I want to do just be better and do better as a person. A lot of people have been very forgiving and kind to me but I don’t feel like it’s enough and I want to do more and I want to feel better about myself. I want to give everything I can to people around me. I’ve been going to therapy a lot more lately and things are getting better for me, but it’s been a very slow process.

I just want to repeat that nothing serious has happened to me. Nobody attacked me in a way that negatively affected my health. A lot of people, friends and strangers have been really nice to me these past few months. I just was doing a lot of self reflecting and unintentionally forced myself to confront a lot of my trauma. I’m saying trauma a lot. I don’t want to get into depth about what I endured because it’s my business but people who do know me know how bad things were for me. I don’t want to feel like that again. I want to feel better, and I want to do better.

Sorry for the long read. That’s just how I feel.

#txt #suicide tw #self harm tw #I was very hesitant to discuss this because whenever I talk about mental health it leans into #one side. who are super well meaning but feel obligated to make sure that I’m okay. like I’m their responsibility when I’m just a stranger #online and my thoughts and feelings should never make someone feel like they have to ‘protect’ me #and another side who sees me purposefully be vague about some of the things I discuss like trauma and regret #and just construct their own narrative and get mad at me for it #at this point I’m just too tired to care about the potential backlash of the latter #if you read all this and think I’m saying I did nothing wrong and everyone is bad except for me that’s your fantasy you get to live in #I just want to be honest about my thoughts and feelings

561 notes · View notes

naavispider · 6 months ago

Note

I'm curious, what do you think Spider would look like if RDA insisted on "humanizing" him? I mean, if Q, with his nicer personality not like in Caught, had the task of changing his clothes and hair, what would he choose so that Spider wouldn't hate it so much and Ardmore would be satisfied?

Oooo, a nice Quaritch forced to 'tame' his wild son... There's a lot of potential there and I'd read about it any day! Here are some of my headcanons for how this would play out:

Spider wouldn't believe Quaritch at all to begin with. He'd assume Q was just using Ardmore as an excuse and that all these changes were really coming from his own father.

Q would try of course to explain, but Spider is stubborn and doesn't believe a word. Q slowly starts to hate himself the more he pushes Spider away, and because the man has zero healthy coping mechanisms, this self hatred can sometimes manifest in frustration at Spider.

It would take a bit of time for Spider to actually start to believe that Q cared about him. Q would try and show it everyday, but his words often weren't enough, so he'd try and bring Spider small things that would make him feel better. Home comforts like his favourite foods (human of course, until Quaritch learned how to slip Pandoran fruits into his meals), books about Pandora/the different Na'vi tribes, etc

Quaritch would try giving Spider a choice (eg which clothes do you want) but Spider would quickly refuse either option, forcing Quaritch to choose for him. Probably, Spider didn't think that Q would follow through, but he gets a nasty surprise one day after his shower to find his loincloth missing and only human clothes laid out.

Probably standard sweatpants/cargos, which Spider would roll up to three-quarter length. In terms of tops, the only brand new clothing options that Quaritch could source were the t-shirts that formed parts of various uniforms within the RDA. Bridgehead doesn't have a mall, so I think it's likely he had to swing by lost property to pick up some actual 'real' clothes (or civvies as Quaritch calls them).

I'm kind of obsessed with Ian Garvin's logo shirts in A2, I think the costume designer did an amazing job. I can see Spider refusing most shirts of a similar design, apart from maybe one or two he takes a liking to. Nothing with a joke or play-on-words on it, but maybe something with a cool print of the planet on.

As for the hair, Q would leave it until he absolutely had to cut it (Ardmore is getting angsty). He'd try and explain to Spider as gently as possible why he needed to cut it. After a pretty miserable conversation, Spider finally relents and lets Q cut it (considering the only other option was a buzcut). "There you go, tiger..."

Q would leave it long enough that Spider could still style and braid parts of it, but short enough that is conventionally 'acceptable' for a boy.

Spider wouldn't reply, just letting the tears fall silently onto the floor. When Q was done, he'd shove him away as hard as he could and retreat backwards, turning away from Q and ignoring him for the rest of the day.

Spider would of course braid whatever parts he could of his remaining hair (and Quaritch somehow manages to procure the mini elastic bands for him).

He also lets Spider know that his armbands, jewellery and songcord are safe and that he's storing them securely.

#spider socorro #miles quaritch #avatar the way of water #miles spider socorro #avatar 2 #atwow #recom quaritch #my stuff #ask

45 notes · View notes

pencilgutz · 4 months ago

Text

[Please click for better quality]

Sooooo I discovered some AUs after being inactive for a while

First up for Twin,

The Monster Lab AU by @etanow !!!!!

More info under the cut!!!

Lore IG

Tw1n (aka Twin) is made from a variety of metal Jax stole from around the Lab. Tw1n is unable to speak due to a incident with Jax and his voice box, and can now only play music to portray his mood and what he's feeling. For example if he's happy he may play some cheery happy song, but if he's angry or just overwhelmed he may just go static, or play some screamo, though static is more common. He does attempt to write though he doesn't have paper on him often. He doesn't have great balance due to the different types of metal and is prone to falling. He has several indents on his back because of this.

His right eye used to be cyan, though due to some... Unforseen events, he lost his eye, along with the ability to move his right arm at all. Yes it hurts, but he can't do anything about it because he knows little about himself because Jax refused to show him the blueprints. Jax is the only one who can fix him. And he refuses to go back.

RELATIONSHIPS!!!!!

Pomni- Tw1n tends to have sympathy and is often kinder towards Jax's experiments (or any kind for that matter) and Pomni was quite nice to him from the little interaction they have had despite her clearly being somewhat on edge because of his appearance, and his somewhat inability to respond.

Caine- Though back when he was under full control of Jax, he viewed Caine in a neutral light, he thought what Jax though. If Jax didn't like Caine, he didn't like Caine. But now that Tw1n is on his own, He doesn't like Caine very much, due to him humoring Jax and letting him experiment in innocent souls. Though its not pure unfiltered hatred like towards Jax.

Ragatha- Similar to Pomni, he is kinder and finds her to be lovely to be around. He often looks up to Ragatha despite them not being close. He admires her ability to maintain a positive outlook despite it being somewhat in vain. He finds her goal to escape quite ambitious..but he finds it interesting as well...he would love to escape and get away from both what he helped with and his...creator

Jax- Despite having created him, Tw1n has a extreme hatred towards him, and the fact he was blindly told these experiments were "humane" and "completely safe" despite them being the furthest from that. He was under complete control of Jax, like a mindless...object until he was harmed gravely himself by Jax. Before the incident and realization he looked up to Jax, wanting to do experiments like him, often following him around like a puppy. He never wants to see his creator's stupid smug face again, but its difficult considering he sees that stupid purple rabbits handiwork in the mirror each morning. He wants nothing more than to watch Jax crash and burn at his feet, however he refuses to stoop down to Jax's level again. Never again. He's a curious soul, and it's coded into him. That's not the case anymore. He's still highly curious yes, but ashamed of what he has done and has sworn off experiments all together because of Jax.

Gangle- One of the only ones Tw1n views as an actual close friend. Despite him not being able to talk, him and Gangle get along quite well, due to their shared love of Fanfiction and written works (As well as writing said fanfiction). How they first met is a mystery. Gangle is able to tell what he's trying to say or what is mood is easier than the others due to them being close friends.

Kinger- He hasn't talked to Kinger often, usually due to the clay golem freaking out because of his (often silent) appearances. Though Gangle talks fondly of him, Tw1n has decided to not form a opinion on him yet. Though it is leaning toward the positive side.

Bubble- It's bubble. What else can he say? Its...its just Bubble.

Zooble- Tw1n finds them to be somewhat of a friend. Key word Somewhat. He finds Zooble to be somewhat cold to him, but he admires their protection over Gangle, and their snake leg is quite interesting to him. He's highly curious about them and their powers, however he won't ask, due to him being intimidated.

Himself- It's complicated. He loves the fact he's alive, he loves the fact he is his own person now, but he's haunted and ashamed of the fact he helped Jax for the longest time. It's that stupid rabbit's fault he is even ALIVE. And it both infuriates him and hurts him beyond what his hard drive can comprehend. He takes drastic measures to never see Jax, including letting his injuries to neglected to avoid that stupid yellow smile. He wants nothing more than to be able to open up his chest cavity and move his components into a new body he made for himself, but due to not having the key Jax holds onto, he can't. He is his own person and he KNOWS that, however this body that was created for him isn't.

Tw1n views himself as both his own worst enemy and his very best friend.

#tadc oc #tadc twin #oc #the amazing digital circus #my art #digital art #art #tadc monster labs au #ml!twin #this isn't everything #But this post is already really long #poor twin cannot catch a break #also he and gangle write fanfic together #no joke #twin is a excellent beta reader and overall writer #zooble has witnessed them writing and it's scary #monster labs au

30 notes · View notes

vay99 · 2 years ago

Text

Law x reader

Let me show you your heart

Anime/Manga: One Piece

Short side note, I've decided to upload my old ffs on here as well since everyone enjoys reading on different platforms and you guys seem to enjoy what I'm reading :)

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay, let's get started then." you check a last time before starting your tattoo machine.

"How many tattoo plans do you have left?"

"None after this, I don't think I'd have space left anywhere." Law looks down on his body while you finish the first letter on his thumb.

"Neck, waist, ass-"

"What are you suggesting?" taken back by your last idea the captain squints his eyes, earning a chuckle from your end.

"Nothing, only that you've got spaces left, and you're my favorite person to tattoo~"

"How come?"

"That's my secret. But why don't you tell me what's up with the double death tattoo?"

"It's what they call me, surgeon of death, I figured that it'd look nice." he simply explains, not mentioning a deeper meaning behind it. Which you know it has.

"I'll accept that answer, for now."

Law just reacts by rolling his eyes, he's used to your antics since you've put every single tattoo on his body, which created a special bond between the two of you.

It always takes Law some time until he opens up to you during your tattoo sessions. Letting down his walls is something he still struggles with. Even with you. The only person he ever told his story.

"I was always surrounded by death, wanted to die and now... I get to decide who lives and dies. It was painful, it still is but... it's a part of me." he explains himself, right as you finish his first hand.

"So death has two meanings for you." you say as you begin with his other hand. "Once your experiences with death as a child, and second your profession as a Pirate, Doctor Captain."

"Yes."

"Babe you do know that tattoos don't replace therapy, right?" you've been calling up him that for a while now, having the antic to adress others with 'flirty' nicknames. The first time you called him Babe his face froze and a blush took over his cheeks.

"I know." he grunts, turning his head away from you.

"Law, I hope that one day you'll feel so full of life that your past turns into a scar, fully healed. No more hurting, hiding and hatred. You'll learn to love life, one day."

"And you said this doesn't replace therapy..."

"If you'd go to therapy I wouldn't have to sY this, we could plan a tattoo on your ass instead but nooo." Law chuckles at your response, watching you finish the final letter on his pinky. "All done."

Staring at his fresh tattooed knuckles Laws lips curl into a smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." you respond, cleaning the bench and tidying up the place.

On your way to the kitchen you two pass by Penguin, who immediately notices his captains new tattoo.

"I'm the surgeon of the death after all." Law explains him for the third time now.

"And yet you fight to keep every patient alive." Penguin answers.

"Ironic how life can be."

"Don't try to make it sound poetic now, you're exchanging peoples arms with legs all of the time." you join their little conversation.

"Don't forget the hearts." the surgeon chuckles. "What's with that expression?"

"Could you give me my heart so I could draw it?!??"

You've done it, you made Law malfunction like a computer that has too many tabs open. Penguin is startled as well but that's not unusual, especially compared to Law malfunctioning.

"Law? Laaaaw?" moving closer to your captain you poke his cheek.

"Uhm... are you, are you sure about that?" scratching his neck as he comes back to his senses, still taken back by your request.

"Yes, I mean, I won't die so, when else will I get the opportunity to draw my own heart?"

Following your bizarre wish Law takes your heart out of your chest. And definitely not getting distracted by your boobs at all. Nah. Even Penguin is dumbfounded by that.

"Wow, the human body is so fascinating." you express your joy over a technique that Law used to let his opponents freak out. He may have studied every part of the human body but your brain will remain a mystery to the man.

"You're not nervous at all? It's your heart in my hands after all." he voices his confusion.

"If you wanted to crush it you could've done it at any given time, we're in a submarine, there's no escape from you. I've seen Penguin and Sachi try to. I trust you Law." you reassure him, adjusting your view back on your heart.

"Countless times..."

"You never win and yet you guys still try." you pat your friends back before heading towards your room. Which is just a bed, a desk and paper, canvases, paint and brushes all over the place.

Sitting down you immediately start sketching, joining you on a chair Law watches you draw, his favorite thing to do when he wants to feel at ease.

Everyone in your crew believes you're already dating and just keep things really private. But no, Law is just a lovesick man who loves nothing more than spend time with you in comfortable silence.

A couple of days later you've finished your masterpiece, exhausted and happy you waddle over to the kitchen and sink into the big couch. Like becoming one with the soft fabric.

"Here." Bepo places a plate with food in front of you and himself.

"Bepo you're a real darling, thanks."

"You looked exhausted and food always makes me feel better so... sorry."

"You're the sweetest." you say, cheeks full of food already. "Did you drop those food plates off at my place each day?"

"No, the captain did."

You stop in your tracks. Law did what?

"Bepo? Are you sure that was Law?"

"Yes, you didn't notice because you were too hyperfocused."

"He gave me bread. He hates bread." you blink at the polar bear next to you.

"But you love bread."

"Exactly!!!!!" finishing your plate you immediately head of to find Law. You wanted to confess for a while now but you never knew if he l o v e d you or just enjoyed having you around him. But this? Law getting near bread? Voluntarily? That speaks volumes.

The second you find him he begins to talk, not giving you any time to react.

"You trusted me with your heart, now I'll trust you with mine." he casually pulls his heart out off his chest, handing it to you. "You once said that two hearts together look like the hearts people draw... if you want to you could draw ours together..." getting quite at the end of the sentence he bites his lip, unsure which words to use.

"Draw them as they belong you mean?"

Agreeing with a nod Law hides his face behind his hat, face redder than Buggys nose.

"This is the best painting request ever!"

Forgetting what you wanted to do not even minute ago you sprint into your room, carrying Laws heart with you.

Pulling out the painting you made of your own heart, where Law gladly assisted threw pulling your heart out of your rib cage, you begin to sketch your hearts together as one. Which took you one more week.

And yes Law brought you bread during that time as well.

"How do you like it?" exhausted, but happy you present your latest creation.

"It's greater than any word I could use to describe it Can I have it?"

"Of course, it was your request after all." you smile as you hand him the painting.

"This will go right above my desk." his lips curl into a heartwarming smile, a smile so gentle which you've never seen it of him before.

"This is my favorite smile of yours. Maybe you'll assist me next time threw being my model."

"Anything for you." he answers mindless, still absorbed by the canvas in front of him. And that's when you remember.

"Guess I'll start dropping by your office from now on, not to brag but this is an amazing painting." you take a few steps towards him.

"Just like the artist."

"Only because I had a great assistant." you chuckle, gently cupping his cheeks.

"Being your assistant sounds like much better job than captain and doctor." Law sighs, loosely wrapping his arms around your hips, continuingly looking up to you.

"You know you can drop by anytime when they're being too noisy. And be my model of course."

"What kind of modeling are we talking about." He raises an eyebrow, a playful smile on his lips.

"I wanna paint you as I see you, a gentle soul, who cares for others more than himself. A gorgeous smile that will steal everyone's heart, because that's what you did with mine." you brush over his lips with your thumb. "But to be able to capture your lips right I need to get a better look at them."

"My lips are all yours." closing his eyes he pulls you onto his lap. You close the gap between your lips, feeling like your hearts have now become one for real. You still taste the salty rice balls he had for lunch, this would be everything you could think about from now on when you see rice balls.

*A few days later, on deck*

The submarine has submerged from the sea, landing on a tropical island. Law stands by the reling and watches the sun set.

"No better view than the sun set over the ocean, no better smell than the salty air." you smile, enjoying the wind that plays with your locks.

"(y/n), when you said you want me to love life, to let my wounds heal I thought it was impossible. But now, right here, with you, I start to understand what you mean. Thank you, for everything you've done for me."

"You've helped me heal as well Law, when you're with the right person you will heal each other, it comes naturally." leaning your head against his shoulder you keep gazing at the sun, disappearing behind the horizon.

#One piece #One piece x reader #Law x reader #Trafalgar law x reader #Trafalgar law fluff #Law fluff #one piece imagine #Someone hug this man please he needs it #one piece fluff #law fluff #trafalgar law fluff

282 notes · View notes

haileyywrites · 2 years ago

Text

-> Some time ago a certain wanderer made his way to Sumeru where he fell in love and settled down in a way, but his past comes calling and he chose to answer...

-> Heavy spoilers for 3.3 Archon Quest!! This fic does not fully follow the story and events of the actual game! Reader has no gender! Some sad undertones but mostly fluffy!

He had done it. He had managed to erase himself from history, yet it barely if at all changed anything. He still experienced suffering and saw death come to claim those he cared about, yet in the end - he didn't regret it. He got to remember them fondly instead of with hatred and with memories of betrayal. Even if it wasn't technically him but another incarnation of him, another part of him. They were still his memories.

The only regrettable thing was you. The Wanderer had met you some time ago in Sumeru after the kind merchant saved him from the storm. As a thank you he would work for him while reluctantly accepting small amounts of mora as payment. You weren't particularly outstanding amongst other citizens of Sumeru, yet you still caught his attention everytime you came to the Grand Bazaar. Whether it was for shopping or to watch the theater, you would often be spending time there.

You would even come there to eat lunch on your free time or during your lunch breaks, so you were a regular sight to him. He wasn't outright looking for you or at you, but he noticed these things. Eventually he worked up the courage to approach you and you accepted his company with a bright smile. For a moment he could have sworn he felt a heart beating in his chest...

It took a long time for him to trust you enough to fully let you in and be fully himself, but you waited patiently for him and encouraged him to do so at his own pace. Somehow you never pushed him past his boundaries or caused him to hesitate trusting you once he started to. He was truly grateful to have met you, to have loved you and to have you love him in return - even if just briefly. Every part of life just became better and happier with you by his side.

But Wanderer was not the only him or the "true" him. He wasn't even sure who he truly was or what the "true" him was supposed to be like anymore, but that was for him to figure out. You had fallen in love with Wanderer and not this incarnation him, it would be cruel to hide his true self or the truth itself from you and pretend nothing had changed when infact - everything had changed. The Wanderer had even made the traveler promise to make himself tell the truth to you.

But he kept backing out from it... How could he tell you of all people he was a terrible person who tried and almost succeeded in usurping Sumeru from its rightful deity - the Archon you loved and worshipped. Not to mention all the countless atrocities he committed while he was one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. He physically felt unable to make himself tell you the truth despite his frankness and own need for the cold hard truth. He just didn't want to break your heart...

You had made him soft - despite never actually knowing him, but he knew you. The memories he shared with you were not his to keep, but he was glad he could. He didn't have many happy memories, but those you shared with the Wanderer were nice... Would your perspective change about him once you knew the truth? Of course it would, and some part of him didn't want that. He had been selfish for long time now, but never quite this selfish.

He didn't want you to stop loving him - no matter if it was just a version of him that didn't exist anymore you had fallen for. He didn't want you to stop smiling at him the way you did or stop looking at him with those bright and starry eyes of yours. But, you deserved nothing but the truth about him, no matter how ugly the truth truly was. Perhaps it would be better if you grew to hate or resent him...

“Come on, you can't keep staring at them from afar like this forever! You have to tell them the truth!” Paimon sighed in frustration.

It had been quite a few days since he had gained his memories back, yet he still hadn't made it even close to telling you about it. You were surely torn with worry for him, it had been a normal day before the traveler had shown up with something important to show him - he didn't have time to write a note for you then. You had been pacing around inside and outside for the last few days he'd been gone. He doubted the truth would ease your hurt, but he had to tell it.

“I know! Quit bugging me! I'd hate to disappoint Kusanali by doing something to make you shut up.” He growled at her.

“Eek!” Paimon quickly flew behind the traveler for protection.

“She's right you know. You need to do it for them.” The traveler motioned towards you.

Wanderer glared at them before huffing and getting up, “I will.”

His steps were quick and confident, yet the closer he got the less so they became. His fingers began to fidget with his clothing in an attempt to calm his ever growing nerves as a nervous sweat began dripping down his forehead. He was glad you were looking elsewhere as he walked towards you, he didn't know what he would do if you were looking at him right now... Yet as soon as that thought entered his head you turned to face him.

Relief washed over your features as you spotted the familiar foreigly clothed man with the large hat. You began hurrying towards him as a smile formed on your face. He stopped in his tracks yet you ran into his arms and held him tightly in your warm embrace. His arms remained in the air, unsure whether he should hold you back or push you away - he could barely think when you held him so warmly and lovingly. He simply let you hug him until you eventually chose let go.

“Where have you been? I've been worried sick for you! You just didn't return home and you left no note or anything to warn me...” Tears had formed in your eyes by now.

He could do nothing but watch as more and more gathered in them as you looked at him with such sad eyes and a worried expression. He knew what the Wanderer you knew would have done - he would have caressed your face and wiped your tears while telling you that everything will be okay. He longed to do the same, but he didn't deserve to do that to you... He was only here to tell you the truth.

“It's complicated, but please hear me out.” His face was serious, which made you reflect it.

“Is everything okay?” You asked.

“I'm... not sure.” He tried looking away from your worried expression, but you stopped him by gently cupping his cheek.

“I'm here for you. Whatever this is about, we'll work through this.” Your words were so genuine it hurt him even more to have to tell you the truth.

He didn't even know where to start... There was so much that needed to be said, that needed to be told to you. He wanted to curse himself for choosing to accept his real memories back - especially knowing it would mean that version of him would be gone forever and that meant he would forever lose you. What a fool. Also for the fact that he left the burden of telling you about it to him.

Your hand lowered from his cheek to intertwine your fingers with his as you waited patiently for him to start. Your presence radiated comfort and holding your hand helpped ground him to gather his thoughts. He took a deep breath before beginning to tell you the truth about him and everything he did - every last relevant detail included. Nothing was sugarcoated or twisted to white lies to make himself seem better than he was. No, you got the cold hard truth.

You remained mostly stoick while he talked, but your hand would occasionally squeeze his in reassurance. Your eyes held sympathy for him the times he had suffered and for the people he had made suffer, but you didn't say a word as you continued to listen until he had finished. Even when he did, you continued to sit by his side with your hand in his. The sun had begun painting the horizon red while setting when he was done telling you everything.

“And that's about it...” He sighed, it was refreshing in a way.

“I see...” You simply replied.

The silence that followed was incredibly awkward, but you still holding his hand felt very comforting. You were deep in thought as you began processing and going through everything you had just been told. As crazy and unbelievable as it sounded, you did believe every word he had said. Somehow it made sense in a strange and otherwise unexplainable way. Your heart grieved silently knowing this person was technically not the man you had fallen in love with and that he was forever gone, but you physically couldn't as here he was before you in the flesh...

“I believe you. Thank you for telling me this, thank you for trusting me.” You smiled weakly.

“This wasn't about trust. He wanted you to know the truth and you deserve to.” He curtly responded.

“Even still. It would have been quite easy to just forget about me and not bother telling me at all, yet you did.” He wasn't that different from him after all...

He hummed in response, but did not say anything. His eyes fell onto your still joined hands, his thumb began running over your knuckles as if out of instinct. He didn't want to let go of your hand, it felt so right in his somehow. He turned his gaze towards the setting sun in the horizon as his mind flooded with questions about the future. What was next then? What was he supposed to do now? Was this the last time he would see or talk to you? Would you even want to see or talk to him again? The mere thought felt...

“So, will you be needing a friend?” You smiled at him.

“Me? A friend?” He scoffed and turned to look at you.

“Yes. Wanderer thought you were worth it to lose himself completely, so I'd like to know what kind of person you are.” You stared directly into his beautiful eyes that widened slightly.

There was another silence, but this time it was him who was processing your words as you patiently waited for his reply. It seems you were a fool as well then. After everything he told you, including every terrible detail or deed - you still sat beside him smiling while holding his hand in yours and asking to be his friend... But perhaps what he needed in his life right now was a fool like you. Though he didn't deserve you the least bit, he would still accept your offer.

“Fine.” His cheeks heated up into a light red as he squeezed your hand like you had done to him before.

Your smile only grew from his words, “So, do you have a name I could call you by?”

A/N: I can't get over this update - it's everything! I have been working in this ever since a played through it and I hope this doesn't dissapoint! Likes and or reblogs are always appreciated <3

444 notes · View notes

zarvasace · 5 months ago

Note

I've been going through your ao3 bc I've n been having a hankering for Four/ colors content

Hyrule's fic where he has the loftwing tattoo is ouch in the good ways. Boy had it ROUGH and if I found out that happened to my bestie I would also puke so I get you, Sky.

And the one where Red and Vio grow up in a cult and Red is the perfect little cult angel so they'll be allowed to LEAVE and they haven't seen the sun for 16 years like my heart. Those poor boys. They just want to see their brothers and Red was too young to even remember them ;-;

I picture that Red and Vio found a nice house with a big garden and they spend all day relaxing in the sun and hanging out and nothing else happens to them and they're happy and also Red helps Zelda and the knights find and put a stop to the cult cause Red has alllll the information about them now.

Well I certainly have my fair share of Four and FS boys content. XD I've actually been meaning to add on a bit to the cult one, so here's a fun little epilogue! ~1k words, some CWs for implied religious trauma, some cursing, and moderate angst.

(said cult-themed fic is here! It's a whump fill and imo one of the more intense ones so.)

---

Green wipes his hands off on a towel and heads to the doorway to poke his head into the living room. “Hey, Vio.”

“Sorry!” Vio says, startling. The book in his hands jumps as he shuts it too fast. He looks up at Green, then blinks and settles. “Sorry,” he says again, this time apologizing for apologizing.

Green takes a second to bite his tongue—he harbors an eternal, ice-cold hatred for the people who'd somehow managed to get it into Vio’s head that reading was something to apologize for—then shrugs in what he hopes is a nonchalant way. “I just wanted to ask if you had a preference between tomato sauce or cheese sauce for dinner. Blue and Red should be back soon.”

Vio slowly reopens his book to the page he'd been reading. “Um, I think Red likes cheese better.”

“Okay, well, what about you?”

“I don't really have a preference.”

“Cheese, then,” Green says, just as the door to their little house swings open.

Green’s little question had startled Vio, but Red's loud, enthusiastic greeting very much does not.

“Viooooo! Guess what I have!” Red bounces in, wearing something a lot like what he'd worn that first day. It's red and yellow and reminds Green of festival robes. The thin fabric accentuates the way he dances in and presents a set of ominous-looking black iron keys to Vio in both hands.

Those keys mean absolutely nothing to Green, but Vio raises his eyebrows. “You really did it, then.”

“Did you doubt me?” Red smiles.

“Can we melt those down?”

“Oh, I definitely plan on it.”

Blue follows Red into the house, closing the door behind them both. He wears Vio’s old grayed cloak with the heavy leather mantle, though now there’s a splatter of blood across the side. Where Red is clearly very pleased with what they've done, Green can see Blue’s anger simmering beneath the surface.

In a flailing of angry movement, Blue rips off the hood and tears the mantle off his shoulders. He bundles it all up and dropkicks the thing into the wall with a shout.

“Woah, Blue,” Green says, stepping in but not touching him yet. “You okay?”

“I'm fine!” Blue snaps. He throws his hands into the air. “I’m just dandy! I'm totally not traumatized at all! And I bet you aren't either!” He gestures to Red and Vio, who watch him warily. “We're all really well-adjusted members of society! Nobody treated me like shit while they thought I was you! Nobody at all!”

Green drops his towel and grabs Blue’s arms to stop him from throwing a punch at the wall. He's done it before. “Calm down!”

“Why should I?” Blue keeps shouting, but Green can see the shine in his eyes. “They kept saying, oh, they're good people, just misled, just take care of some of the leaders and everyone will be fine, but you know who gave a damn about me? About Vio? When we staged that—that—”

“Blue!” Green shakes him, hoping to snap him out of it, but all he does is shake the tears out.

Blue is more prone to punching out his feelings than crying about them. The tears that fall down his face are out of the ordinary for him. He looks at Green like he did every time he became despondent: like he hopes desperately that Green can fix the world. His rage is quickly giving way to full-out sobbing, and it's a bit startling. This hasn't happened in years.

Green has gotten good at dealing with Blue’s moods, but Vio and Red very much have not. Red has moved to stand half in front of Vio, as if to protect him, and Vio’s eyes have gone calculating. Then Red leans back to whisper something, never taking his eyes off of Blue and Green, and Vio responds, too quietly to hear.

Blue starts to push away from Green, red in the face, but Vio is right there, hands raised as if he doesn't know what to do with them.

“Um,” Vio says, “I'm sorry.”

“No, I'm sorry!” Blue interrupts, his voice breaking. “I didn't mean to—to get mad—and we didn't find you—and I had no idea—”

Red taps Vio on the shoulder and whispers loudly. “Ask if he wants a hug.”

A short, wet laugh interrupts Blue’s tears, and he shakes his head as if to say it isn't necessary.

Vio’s face goes tight in a wince, and Green starts to move to interrupt, but then Vio raises his arms and wraps them around Blue, and Blue’s sobs go quiet almost instantly. After a few seconds, they readjust so Blue can hold Vio back. Vio definitely isn't crying, but he does hide his face behind his bangs and Blue’s neck.

Red looks like he's about to cry, too, so Green nudges him.

“Want to help me make some sauce for pasta?”

“Really?” Red says, looking up. “Yeah. I do.”

“Come on.”

Red drops the keys he holds on top of Vio’s discarded cloak, then follows Green into the kitchen. He's a little subdued, but still enthusiastic. By the time Red burns his half of the sauce (surprising no one), Blue and Vio have shifted to speaking quietly on the old couch.

It's going to be a long road of healing, even considering how far the four of them have come so far. But now they know that the cult isn't going to come after Red and Vio, or kidnap anyone else, for that matter, since they got the princess and knights involved. But Vio has begun to keep his books in plain sight, and Red curses a little more every day. Red goes outside into the sun most days, and drags Vio with him every so often. They moved to a nice little house, and visit their father at least once a week. Blue has been happy, and so has Green.

It's a long road, yes, and doubtlessly it's an uphill one. But they're on it together.

#my writing #four swords #prompts and minifics

24 notes · View notes

emer7311 · 19 days ago

Text

Hamartia in mythology is the fatal flaw of the Hero or Heroine that leads to their downfall. Often accompanying hubris, the excessive pride is the force that drives the Hero to make a mistake in judgment that they cannot recover from. Great examples of this would be Oedipus, Walter White, Othello, Macbeth, Hamlet, Paris. Each of these characters are driven by multiple of the following: Pride Greed Lust Envy Gluttony Wrath Sloth. When we finally get into Azriel's head we find that in the first half of his own POV, HE is driven and motivated by multiple behaviors on list. Envy is what he feels towards his brothers. Pride is what he feels about Elain getting him something and not her Mate. Lust is what he feels for Elain. His thoughts are purely physical and sexual in nature. Coveting of another's Mate. Believing he deserves Elain. Wrath, he will fight and win if challenged. Slothfulness, he didn't care about what his behaviors would cause. When confronted he lies, rages and again turns off his emotions. He answers his brother's question with arrogance, hubris and once dismissed he enters a state of acedia. None of this is healthy. None of this is what one should want from the Hero of a story. He revealed that he struggles with sever self-image issues when it comes to who he is and what he has done. He is in a constant state of inner turmoil. All of these things are MAGNIFIED in Elain's presence. Not only in the BC but in the book itself in the Solstice night conversation with Nesta. The Elain portion of the BC ends with Azriel driving himself into a state of detachment. He is not questioning his faith, he has none. He is empty. He is frozen. Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all. In the second half the reader sees Azriel practicing some of the opposite behaviors. Patience Kindness Humility He shows humility in how he treats Gwyn. Saying he "found her" that night as opposed to acknowledging he saved her. He does not see his good work as something to take pride in. He acknowledges the difference in Gwyn from that night, her own growth. He stays and talks to her, reminding himself to be social. Showing kindness towards her. He than patiently teaches her how to correctly cut the ribbon. He laughed with her. He shared things with her. He forgot about is self-hatred with her. He forgot about ELAIN, the fight with brother and his inability to sleep. In her presence he is at peace and he carries that feeling in regards to her until the following day. When he "regifts" the necklace to her because he is now driven by the need to do something nice for her in return. And he is so unaccustomed to the way Gwyn made him feel that it is not until Clotho attached Gwyn's JOY to his behavior that he truly feels that spark. Igniting something where he was nothing, felt nothing. A glow and image of her replaced his internal emptiness. SJM often borrows from Mythology for her stories and Mythology is often centered around the hamartia of the Hero/Heroine--with those that are not driven by virtue often meeting a sad ending due to their decisions being driven by the worst aspects of themself verse the best. Giving into the Seven Deadly Sins vs the Seven Heavenly Virtues. Just a reminder, Paris was a douchebag that caused the deaths of thousands because he believed he was owed something. His own brother warned him what the outcome would be if he pursued his foolish decision.

#azriel x gwyn #pro gwynriel #gwyn and azriel #azriel needs therapy

12 notes · View notes

dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 22 days ago

Note

Some time ago you answered the question what if Quaritch's case was retried and he regained custody. I wonder what if the court ordered supervised meetings between Quaritch and 16 year old Spider to start with, and the place where they were to be the home of the current foster family, the Sullys? How would a meeting go, considering the hatred of the Sullys and Spider towards Q?

Oh the Cabin Custody Au (part 1 and part 2) I loved writing that au so I’m happy to expand on it.

So I’ve read up on the reunification process between a parent and a child who’s been taken away by C.P.S. So from my understanding of things the process all depends on why a child was taken away. C.P.S and the courts comes up with a path to reunification that the parent has to follow in order to get their child back. That sometimes includes therapy, A.A meetings or parenting classes. In Quaritch��s case he would have voluntarily done a psyc evaluation as part of his court evidence that he is mentally stable and so the judge wouldn’t have him do therapy (even though he totally needs it)

So then the meetings. Again this is just my understanding of things but supervised meetings are overseen by a social worker or an agreed upon guardian in the court house or a visitation facility. They can take place at a home or park but only if the court allows. In this case since Quaritch and the Sully’s have beef that’s been well documented in court the judge would never allow the Sully’s to be part of Spider’s visitation. So the meetings happen at a visitation facility. Norm was Spider’s social worker until Quaritch argued that Norm being Jake’s best friend had a bias against him and couldn’t be impartial. So the courts assigned Spider a new social worker and he does not like her. She a complete Karen, fake nice and unsettling. She picks him up from the Sully’s four times a week to see his dad. Spider resisted the first few times, refusing to leave the house but Karen threatened to call the cops to force him to comply. Spider didn’t want to put the Sully’s through that so he begrudgingly goes.

Quaritch always gets there super early. When Spider is pushed into the room his face lights up. He’s so excited to spend time with his son even though he knows the boy wants nothing to do with him. Spider made that abundantly clear when the verdict was handed down. Quaritch went to hug him. Spider stormed out of the room. Now the boy is huddled in the corner, glaring at him, looking ready to lash out at the smallest provocation. Karen had given Quaritch a list of helpful talking points to try and engage his child in conversation so he asks, “how was your day.”

“Complete shit knowing I had to see you today.”

“Miles,” Karen shrieks, “there’s no need for….”

Quaritch holds up a hand, “it’s okay. This is a lot. I get that. He wouldn’t be my son if he didn’t have a spit fire attitude.” Quaritch smiles fondly at him. Spider dies inside refusing to speak for the rest of the meeting or any meetings going forward. Quaritch still tries to talk to him though, all calm and gentle. And it reflects well on him. Karen has to take notes to give to the court so she says that Quaritch is patient and kind with his son despite the boy’s attitude probably. She suggests Spider goes to reunification therapy, though this only stays a suggestion, the court never orders it.

So after a few weeks Quaritch gets bumped up to unsupervised visits. Jake won’t let Quaritch anywhere near his house so he drops Spider off at the chosen location. Jake doesn’t want to drop Spider off at all but everyone knows if Spider doesn’t attend his visits then Quaritch will accuse the Sully’s of keeping his son from him and then who knows how messy that’ll get. So Spider goes, meeting his dad at the park. Jake and Quaritch glare daggers at each other but for the sake of not ending up in court they don’t speak to each other.

When Spider approaches Quaritch tries to pat his shoulder only for his son to buck the touch and round on him hissing like an animal. Quaritch sighs, “well what do you want to do kiddo? We can grab something to eat, see a movie, i can take you to the skate park or….

“Can I go back to my real home?”

“Sure. In another two weeks when I move up to weekend visits you can come home. But for now what should we do?” Spider doesn’t answer, scowling. “Oh fine, I’ll surprise you then. Get in the car and let’s hit it.”

Spider runs off in the opposite direction instead. He’ll make his way back home on foot if he has to. Quaritch having expected this jumps in his car and follows him. Spider can run pretty fast but obviously the car is faster. Quaritch is driving by the sidewalk yelling, “you know if you go back I can say I didn’t get my full time with y’a. That’ll look bad on the Sully’s. I can go to court and say…”

Spider stops, rolling his eyes with a groan, “fuck fine, y’a bitch. Let’s just get this over with.”

Quaritch take him to a retro themed dinner where Spider gorges himself on food trying to hurt his dad’s bank account. His dad just chuckles and goes, “damn kid y’a sure you’ve had enough or do you need more.”

After to Spider’s surprise Quaritch takes him to the art museum. They don’t speak much while there. Quaritch just trails after his son as the boy happily runs from piece to piece.

The rest of their meetings are similar and then it’s time for a weekend visit before everything will be a done deal. Spider is determined to be a little terror the entire time. His dad just thinks it’s funny. Quaritch takes him shopping to get whatever he wants for his bedroom, a whole new wardrobe, a new laptop and anything else Spider’s heart desires. Spider once again tries to hurt Quaritch’s bank account but also is just a complete brat in the store in his attempt to humiliate his dad and get a rise of him. But it doesn’t work. Quaritch laughs at him and says, “boy do you really think I can’t see what you’re trying to do? Now stop this silly shit. You’re only embarrassing yourself.”

When that fails Spider decides he’s going to give himself a black eye and blame his dad. He’s in his room, winding up with a metal thermos when Quaritch just barges right in, “Miles dinner is - what are you doing?”

“Nothing!” Spider hurries to hide his thermos, “haven’t you ever heard of knocking!”

His dad smirks, hands clasped behind his back, “you weren’t plannin’ on giving yourself a shiner with that thermos we’re y’a?”

Spider smirks back, “maybe I was. Who do you think the courts would believe? The kid with the black eye or the convicted felon.”

Quaritch moves his hands revealing his phone, recording their whole conversation. Spider’s stomach drops “Me. Don’t try that dumb shit again. Now come down for dinner.”

After that it’s a done deal. So all in all Quaritch and the Sully’s wouldn’t really come face to face because they all know they’ll just break out into a huge fight that’ll lead to some messiness in court. Spider would make things hard but Quaritch would know what’s up and be patient with him.

Thanks for the question 💞

#spider socorro #miles spider socorro #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #cabin in the woods #avatar fanfiction #my fanfic

18 notes · View notes

ammarettu · 10 days ago

Note

please pleaseeeeee please please please give us a part 3 to true hate's kiss i NEED a resolution im obsessed 🙏

Your wish is my command.

Parts 1 and 2

Part 3 under the break

He dithers at the edge of the stage for just a moment, hesitates, until Valdo forcefully shoves him back into the crowd.

He doesn't want to think about what will happen now, his hands have a tremble to them that make him almost wonder if he could claim to be ill again just to keep him. He wonders if Geralt will notice if he just... follows him out of the party and into his camp and just... stays there.

He groans, of course Geralt would notice. He's already annoyed the poor man enough. Fuck. What does he even say now? Should he say anything? Should he just leave and save Geralt the trouble?

He nabs a cup of wine from an unsuspecting bystander who huffs at him in disapproval. He tosses it back in one fluid motion, then glances over to where Geralt was only to find the Witcher absent from the space.

Jaskier's heart somehow plummets and rises into his throat all at once, his pulse throbs in his fingers. Of course Geralt would leave the moment the curse was broken. Why the fuck would he stick around? Jaskier's already been enough of a burden on him, even before this whole fiasco, he couldn't have honestly expected, or even hoped, for Geralt to stick around.

He asks someone if they saw where the Witcher went, alright he asks several people, but none saw him leave. He slipped out silently, or whatever. Likely to avoid Jaskier trying to trail after him like he always used to.

Jaskier takes a breath, closes his eyes in an attempt to calm himself and force the tears back - it doesn't work. He gets drunk instead.

Geralt flees, you know, like a coward.

He can't describe the rush of feeling that floods through him when he hears Jaskier's voice again for the first time in... too long. He'd gotten so used to having that voice at his side, encouraging him, complimenting him, and just generally being a light that was far too bright for this world. For Geralt's world, dark and dripping with blood and hatred.

And hearing him speak again wrenches at something in his chest that he doesn't want to dwell on. Something raw and painful. He thought when he heard that voice again he could have atoned for all the cruel shit he'd spewed, merciless and without truth.

He can't bear to stick around and hear that voice turn on him the same way he'd done to Jaskier. Can't bear to hear the words of hatred he's so used to hearing from every other human pour like vitriol from such sweet lips-

Can't bear the rejection.

It's pathetic, after all he's put the bard through, all he's said, how he's certain his own words felt to Jaskier, who feels everything so deeply. But he is pathetic, and a coward, so he runs.

He finds himself down one of the estate's many long halls, golden filigree doors lining the walls. He'd intended to go outside, kind of. He hadn't really been paying attention, more concerned with simply moving away, but he'd hoped he might just end up outdoors.

Still, it's better than nothing. He pushes open a door, finding a large bedroom on the other side, and closes it behind him.

He sighs and flops onto a red velvet armchair, burying his head in his hands.

It's been a long day. A long week. It's been strange, as nice as it was having Jaskier back at his side the lack of noise usually associated with the bard still being absent was off-putting and wrong.

He takes a minute to recenter himself. To get used to being alone again. He curls into himself, resting his head on his forearms, on his knees, and firmly does not cry. He doesn't.

He also doesn't lose track of time, nor is he startled when there is a noise in the hall, giggling and shuffling footsteps - a thump, someone is pushed against the door to the room in which Geralt has taken residence. He stumbles to his feet, hears a moan past the door and moves to the window to calmbor out (the sun has set now, several hours have passed since he entered) - his medallion shudders in it's place against his chest. A warning. He pauses, he hasn't a choice, whatever is waiting outside the doors is a monster of some kind about to feast. A bruxa, knowing their affinity for alcohol infused blood.

"I wasn't expecting to find you here tonight," a female voice mutters, "Imagine my delight and surprise."

"Mm, I'm about to delight you even more."

Geralt almost fucking trips over his own feet as he glides across the room towards the door. The second voice is Jaskier's. As badly as he wants to turn on his heel and leave, his cowardice returning with a burning vengeance, he can't. Not if-

"And what of your Witcher? Will he not be joining us?"

Jaskier huffs a little laugh, "Geralt isn't my anything," Geralt winces at the coldness in his tone, "Anyways, he left."

"He'd just leave you here alone?" He hears Jaskier take a shuddering breath, hears the unbuttoning of his doublet.

"Course he would," Jaskier mutters, "He hates me."

Geralt blinks. That- Jaskier can't possibly think- but then again Geralt has always been rather cruel. It makes sense, he supposes, that he'd think Geralt hates him, especially after the mountain. But he was certain that the hatred was more than a little directed back at him.

"And yet you love him still?" The woman taunts, "How admirable."

Geralt wants to laugh at the absurdity. Jaskier doesn't love him, he hates him. He made that clear when he came to him to break a curse that could only be broken by kissing someone he hated. He waits for the refusal, but it never comes. Instead, Jaskier mutters, "Aren't you supposed to be distracting me? Making me forget?"

He can hear the grin when the woman, the Bruxa, replies, "Oh, darling, soon you won't remember a thing."

"What the fuck-" Jaskier gasps as the door handle moves, he's shoved inside, the Bruxa stepping in after him all feral eyes, fanged teeth and clawed hands. The door opens inwards, blocking line of sight between the newest occupants and the Witcher pressing himself to the wall as the vampire lurches towards Jaskier. The door slams shut, and in less than a second Geralt has his silver drawn and cleanly through the Bruxa's neck. One motion. One swipe. She never even saw him. Neither did Jaskier, until the head is already rolling, and he's taking a breath in to scream.

Geralt is there in a flash, leather-gloved hand pressed firmly over the bard's lips, "It's me, Jaskier."

He's trembling, breath coming in short little puffs that make Geralt kind of worried he might pass out, but he moves carefully back away and says, "Geralt. You're still here."

His eyes are misty with tears and drink and Geralt finds himself sighing, fond.

"I'm here. We should go."

"You- we?"

"You want to stay in the room with a bloody corpse?"

"Well... no, but we should at least take her jewelry, don't you think? Those sapphires, Geralt! A travesty to leave them on the floor."

He rolls his eyes but allows it, if Jaskier wants some jewelry he's earned it. Plus it's kind of nice to see a little glimpse of the same hedonistic bard he's missed.

The sneak out of the manor, and into the stables to gather Roach. It's just easier. Sure the woman was a Bruxa, but she was still high society, and all the red tape and questions... Geralt shudders just thinking about it.

They end up in the forest under the stars just like they used to sleep, with Jaskier chattering away and a canopy of leaves swaying with the breeze.

Geralt will ask Jaskier tomorrow what the Bruxa meant about him loving him.

He doesn't ask. He can't make the words force themselves from his throat. Instead, he wakes early and makes them both breakfast like he used to, wakes Jaskier with gentle shakes and a cup of warm willow bark tea sweetened with just a bit of honey.

"Where are you off to now?" Jaskier asks him as they pack up, soft as a whisper.

Geralt pauses, glances to Jaskier, and takes a chance, "Always drowners along the coast," he says. Hears Jaskier swallow in response.

"Yeah?"

"Mm... Hear Kerack is pretty this time of year." A sharp intake of breath, Jaskier's heart beats so hard Geralt is pretty sure he could hear it even without his Witcher senses.

"Is that so?"

Geralt resumes what he was doing, tacking up Roach, pretends to be nonchalant, "The taverns there could probably use a bard," he says.

"Are you sure?" Jaskier's voice is shaking and Geralt hates how uncertain he sounds. How hopeful.

"Jaskier."

"Yes?"

Geralt turns, tilts his head to the side a bit, "Come to the coast with me."

A sheen forms on those gorgeous blue eyes, brought to life even more by the glittering sapphires he now wears on his ears and around his neck.

"Yes," he breathes, and Geralt smiles his response, holds out his hand, and hoists his bard up onto his horse.

#witcher fanfiction #my writing #witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #writing prompt

18 notes · View notes

wordslikesilver · 5 months ago

Text

Sometimes I think about how ready discord servers of big companies and games are to literally just ban people for being homophobic or transphobic, zero tolerance whatsoever and I think for just one moment of blinding clarity how nice it would be if tumblr was actually that intolerant and direct about online bigotry as well. If facebook was like that. If Twitter was. Suddenly I feel like I get it. I understand what it would feel like to actually be supported and truly accepted by society. Like what the fuck kind of place is this where you can just spew hate speech and face nothing from the people who keep the lights on? Why is League of Legends more queer friendly than Tumblr?

Years ago, BLM protested and made the Pride parade in my city of Toronto ban cops from being in the parade and every year that passes I feel like I get it, more and more. How dare they let them march? How dare they let the police pretend they’re not still complicit in rampant queer and BIPOC violence and discrimination to this day?

How dare Tumblr tolerate TERFs and discriminate against trans women as freely and readily as they do? Fuck it makes me so angry. There’s a taboo against saying free speech is bad but you know what? We don’t need to be lawless and indifferent to the suffering of an already discriminated against people. We don’t need to welcome everyone. There’s no slippery slope or ruthless calculus, it’s basic fucking math. Bigotry and hate speech should not be welcome. Period. You’re right, it’s not free speech anymore, it’s the super spooky censorship devil. Censorship is not evil you stupid fucks. Reddit deleting r/jailbait is censorship. Deleting incel subreddits is censorship. Deleting racist, fascist, predatory cess pool subreddits is censorship. It’s a tool. And just like a shovel can be used to kill a person, so too are it be used to clean up the garden and remove the rot and the sickness.

I truly believe deep in my heart that making space for any and all opinions to be heard is cowardice. To make space for evil to flourish and refuse to weed it out is to welcome and encourage it. This is not subjective. The systemic oppression of and hunting of minorities is not a subject with deep or complicated nuance. It is evil. It is evil and it has always been evil. We’ve been so slow in the grand scheme of history to acknowledge this, but even slower to accept that we need to be kill the myth of the censorship devil and recognize that maintaining a stance that tolerates and thus encourages bigoted behaviour is to be accomplice to a wicked and wretched, rotted evil. I believe in the inherent intelligence and goodness of humanity, I fully believe without a single faltering of my heart that we can establish on far larger scales than a fucking discord server, rules of conduct and behaviour that reject the rampant and heinous bigotry that my trans sisters and DOZENS of other minorities face day to day. I believe without a moment of doubt or wavering resolve that it can be done in clear ways that are above and beyond reproach from the incessant, inane and ill intentioned questioning and muddying of rules that of course would follow from those who would cry villainy that they can no longer voice their disgusting, hate fuelled opinions on matters of basic human rights.

I know how I sound. I know these words can be used just as easily by The Other Side about the Woke Left and Special Snowflakes with fragile feelings being cowards who can’t Get Real and accept the world’s rejection of who they are. But isn’t that what they’re really afraid of? That they’re the ones who are wrong and need to change if they still want to be welcome anywhere? We don’t welcome cops in the pride parade because being queer isn’t about everyone being valid and welcome. We are a people and a community that will not quietly bow to hatred against us. Anyone who wants to claim they support us cannot abide the proliferation of hatred against us when it happens under their own god damn roof.

#lgbt #lgbtq community #lgbtq #lgbtqia #queer #queer community #lgbtq+#politics #tumblr politics #my writing #censorship #free speech #done being the tolerant left

13 notes · View notes

stars-n-spice · 3 months ago

Text

Trying something new!

I'm going to attempt to post something Silly Squad related - be it headcanons, one shots/fics, or art - every Saturday! Because Silly Squad Saturday has a nice ring to it and it eases into OC Sunday pretty nicely :)

That and I want to try and motivate myself to do more with these guys because I post about like,, 10% of the collective lore I have about them while the rest of the 90% stays up in my brain.

So welcome and hello to the first-ever Silly Squad Saturday!

We're kicking off with some excerpts from the first chapter of fics I have planned for them and the Bad Batch (plus the headers for the fics)!

Each fic is dedicated to either Jung, Viram, Khea, or Tay and goes into detail about their lives before meeting the Bad Batch, their families, and what lead them to finding a home with our boys :)

Enjoy!

A forgotten relic of a fallen religion.

Jung can remember the fire.

The blinding lights of red and gold. Of blue fury. Of an indescribable heat that could only be described as pure and utter hatred; burning hotter than the brightest stars.

He remembers the smell of smoke that followed from that fire. That sickly haze that still haunts him like a ghost and suffocates him in the silence of the night and his mind.

He remembers the weight of his saber in his hands. How the once familiar cool of metal felt heavier than any burden he’d once carried, suddenly foreign during a time he so desperately needed it to protect like it was designed to do.

But worse than the sight of the flames, the smell of the smoke, and the weight so heavy in his hands were the sounds of screams.

Of cries that pierced the night. Calls of confusion. Of desperations, betrayal, and fury. Sounds that should have never echoed against the Temple walls. Sounds that would now forever echo inside Jung’s head.

Jung could remember it all.

The sound of sudden blaster fire. The relentless pursuit of a blue blade radiating pure anger and fear. The sight of dozens of familiar helmets hiding what had once been men behind visors that only reflected the terrified faces of children and the desperation in those called upon to protect them.

Those like Jung.

In robes of hold and white, with intricate masks to hide his face. White to surrender his identity. Gold for knowledge and commitment to the Order. And a mask–like the rest of them–to conceal what had once been a person.

Jung had served his Order well. After all, he knew of no other life. No other path. No other name. Nothing but white and gold robes, a mask, and a pike in his hands. He’d done his part, but nothing could have prepared him for the day that the Order fell.

Everything he had known–everything he once was–fell away to fire and smoke from a blade wielded by one of their own and blaster bolts from their own army.

A religion, millenniums in the making, nearly completely destroyed overnight.

A medic who helps everyone but herself.

Since Viram could remember, she wanted to help people.

As the oldest of four, she’d always been in charge and had the responsibilities of looking after her siblings and taking care of them. She cooked, she cleaned, she made sure they did their academy work and stayed out of trouble. With her parents out more often than not, Viram assumed the role of ‘mom’ and ‘dad;’ growing up much faster than those her age. But it was okay, at least to Viram it was, because she understood it was something that had to be done.

And while some would crumble under the weight of expectations, Viram thrived. There wasn’t anything the Mikkian couldn’t tackle and everything she did–she did it to honor her parents.

Her father was a well-renowned doctor while her mother was an inspiring teacher, and Viram respected and admired them from the very start. They were the perfect picture of an Inner and Mid Rim family. Well off and respected, her parents were shining lights in their communities that were constantly helping those in need with their skills and talents. Viram so desperately wanted to be like them.

So, she did what she could to follow in their footsteps. She excelled in school and at home she looked after her siblings when her parents worked late. Some might’ve pitied her and thought she was forced into her duties and dreams by her parents, but Viram didn’t care or listen to them. It was her life, and she wanted it to be just like her parents’:

Perfect.

Well at least, Viram thought that was how it was and would forever remain.

For a good part of her life though, that’s how life was. She graduated with honors, watched her siblings grow up and follow their own dreams, and she started to work under her father and learn his practice. She had studied to become a medic at the academy on Coruscant and as soon as she had graduated, she took everything she had learned to her father and started to learn even more from him out on the field.

She could finally help people in the way that she forever had wished that she could, with every wound treated, every assessment diagnosed, every bandage so delicately placed, Viram was achieving her dreams. Everything was perfect.

And then the war started.

A little starbird with no way back home.

Khea wished she couldn’t remember her roots.

She wished the beskar she wore wasn’t her own, that her tongue didn’t speak foreign words and her mind didn’t know ancient legends and myths. Khea wished that the blood in her veins didn’t burn bright like the fires in the Great Forge and that the last name she carried wasn’t shared with any clan. She wished that everything she ever was and everything that came before her would fade to stardust and leave her with a blank slate.

Because to be a Nultez was to be a wanderer. To be a Nultez was to be cursed to forever be…

Lost.

Her father started the curse, when he left Chandrila to escape an ancient tradition, only to find himself as a lowly performer in a traveling circus until he met her mother. Her mother then shared the curse when she decided to marry him and take his last name–leaving her clan to start her own and finding love and life outside of Mandalore. Then they gave it to their children–Jovaz, Khea, and Mitcan.

Jovaz Nultez, the zealot. Khea Nultez, the wander. And Mitcan Nultez, the dreamer.

Siblings bound together by a last name, but not bound to stay together.

A destiny that was decided before they were even born, fate woven into the stars; something so out of Khea’s control yet something she felt at fault for every waking day and every sleepless night. Because she had made promises to her brothers: To Jovaz, she promised that she would always stick with him–no matter what. To Mitcan, she promised she wouldn’t leave him–that she wouldn’t let him down.

But when Jovaz came to her, speaking of honor and ancient ways, asking her to join him and run away from all they’d ever known–she couldn’t bring herself to go with him. What he spoke of was something she couldn’t stomach and like a coward she refused and let him go down a dark path, leaving her with guilt and the new burden of being the oldest child.

It was a guilt that was haunting, one that pushed her to try and bring him back, only for her to break her promise to Mitcan in the meantime.

She hadn’t planned on it, but Mitcan wanted to go with her to bring their brother back. For a few years they searched for him and when they finally found him–Khea broke her promise to Mitcan. She couldn’t protect him. Couldn’t save Jovaz from himself. Couldn’t be the big sister Mitcan saw her as. She let Mitcan down–and it led him to his death.

Khea wishes she never made those promises, but they weren’t the only promises she had made.

A merciless merc all caught up in strings.

Tay doesn’t remember much from his past–and that was probably a good thing.

He didn’t know exactly how he ended up in The Cauldron–a colosseum that had always felt so giant and grand to him when it should’ve been seen for what it was; a cage. He couldn’t remember how he–a chagrian with nothing to his name– found his only home to be one of cages and chains.

However, as he got older, he had his theories. Theories that all boiled down to one obvious claim: his parents–whoever they were–didn’t care about him enough to keep him. Instead, all he was to them was a quick paycheck, sold to slavers who took him away to the colosseum to train and fight until the inevitable day he died a gruesome death in the name of entertainment and credits.

And maybe he should’ve died a gruesome death the first time he was put into a match once he was old enough, but he was determined to prove something. He was determined to prove he was more than what was assumed of him. To prove to his bastard parents he was more than a paycheck–wherever they were. To prove he deserved every right to exist in the galaxy like the rest of them.

So he fought. He fought and he won. Again and again.

And the cheers and praise that came once he’d won his debut match? They were addicting.

It didn’t take Tay long to thrive off the attention and acknowledgement that came with winning matches. Suddenly he was more. He had a purpose. And to the young, cocky chagrian, it felt an awful lot like respect. But most importantly, it felt like love.

The people loved him. They couldn’t get enough of him. Every fight. Every opponent. Every win. Tay was addicted to the crowds and they were addicted to him.

Tay brought crowds. He brought in money. He was more than anyone who had bought him could’ve imagined. That’s because more than a fighter, Tay was a performer. He could put on a show. He had learned how to capture the audiences with his natural charm and it wasn’t long before his ‘holders’ began to see use for him in areas outside of the ring. After all, there were a lot who would pay a pretty credit or two to be up close and personal with Tay’kaa, the reigning champ Chagrian...

If you enjoyed what you read and would like to be notified when the chapters are officially published - feel free to join the tag list! Just let me know in this post, dms, or fill out this form!

If you're new to the squad; check out these links to learn more about them: 💫 Silly Squad Masterlist 💫 Baddies Batch Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading!! 🩵💫

8 notes · View notes