#I CANT STOP LOOKING AT IT ARE THE WINDOWS EVEN BROKEN | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

morphids · 2 months ago

Text

surrender to the sea, hange zoë

pairing: pirate captain!hange x noble!reader, they/them pronouns used for hange with afab anatomy for both

summary: your father’s shady business deals with a pirate crew lead to collateral damage.

warnings: kidnapping, pwp, explicit sexual content 18+, minors dni (consensual no dubcon here), poc friendly!! hange is a freak, r is SO down bad (same), r is dissatisfied w her life, tension, acc insane executions of gay panic, theres so much exposition before the smut im so sorry bear with me, cunnilingus, fingering, general filthiness — enjoy.

wc: 8.8k, sorry i cant stop yapping.

a.n : listen i tried to stop myself but im weak to my own devil thoughts ok hange worshippers wya

—

Jolting, you sat up in your bed, awakened from slumber by a whipping crash, followed by splintered glass cracking on the hardwood floors of your quarters.

Heart thumping in your ears from the shock, your head instinctively turned towards the shattered window, where the translucent fabric of the curtains were being dragged out with the cool night’s wind. Brows furrowing, your gaze turned to a small, thick object on the floor, illuminated by hints of moonlight, presumably the very cause of the shattering.

You felt an odd feeling, something in the wind warning you that you weren’t alone, you looked over your room, checking for anything out of order. There was nothing out of place, it wasn’t until your second skim over the room that you saw it. A shadow in the darkest corner, the corner where light barely hit it, something to do with the measurements of the architecture, you’d been told. It was there though, undeniably.

“Who are you?” You spoke, shakily, loud against the otherwise still atmosphere, your voice caused a small laugh to come from the unknown shadow.

“That’s your first question?” They spoke, an air of condescension about them.

“I should like to know the identity of the person who has broken into my quarters,” You steeled your voice, trying to portray an image of fearlessness though you were betrayed by the slight tremor in your hands as they clutched onto the bedsheets for any hope of comfort, ��May you at least come out from the shadows?” Your fear was definitely betrayed then, as the person stepped forward, the light now casting shadows over their features.

You looked them over, noticing a slight reflection from the glass in their spectacles, a black band covering one quarter of their face, obscuring the right eye. You shook, this was no person from court, maybe not even from this city. Their hardened features, accessories and strange attire placing them from somewhere else entirely. Who is this stranger? What business have they with you?

You find yourself lacking words, having been woken up in such a way was causing a lack of signals to be sent to and from the brain. You were just staring at them, stunned to silence.

“No more questions, huh?”

“I-I just, am confused,” You responded, blinking away tears that formed as you truly grasped the situation you were in, and anything that could happen from here.

“Well, let me explain then,” they shrugged, “You’re coming with me,”

You ogled, “Coming with you, where exactly?”

“As it turns out, daughters are the best way to get a man to pay up,” They chuckled, you didn’t like the implications of this, at all. What did this have to do with your father? Last you had spoken to him, he was furious at you, having been ‘disrespectful’ to one of the countless suitors he had tried arranging for you. You don’t know why he still bothered; every time each one of the suitors had travelled and began any attempts at courting you, you’d reject them.

“I hope you know I’m not going to marry you,” you’d said to one of them, once. You could almost laugh at the gears turning inside their heads as they looked at you as if you were an entity. You’d add in a couple of comments here and there about how their attempts were foolish and in vain, how they coat their dark intentions behind sweet words and promises. You could always see through them. Plus, it was hard to deny the entertainment you’d get from seeing their flustered faces, set on denying all accusations whilst having no actual defence, before huffing and wandering away, not before having words with your father about how they would never marry such a disobedient and insolent woman. Was this your father trying to teach you a lesson? No. That doesn’t feel right, they emphasised paying up. Pay for what? You wondered, had your father been up to something?

“Unfortunately, that makes you collateral,” they paused, looking down as they adjusted the sword that was clinging onto their side, sheathed away, for now. You hadn’t even noticed it before, shuddering as you realised you were completely defenceless. Not a weapon nearby you could use, even if there was, you wouldn’t be able to formulate an attack, regardless. “So, you’d better listen to what I say, and come with me,”

After a beat, with no response, they continued, “I will only ask nicely once, princess,” Sighing as one hand moved to their hip, the other remained on the hilt of their sword, “I’d prefer to do this cordially, if you wanna make it ugly, that’s your choice.”

You blinked, truly at a loss, what the fuck was happening?

“If I go with you, will you tell me what’s going on?” You hated the way that sounded on your tongue, so helpless and lost— a feeling you resented, pride dissipating and crumbling into a tiny speck.

“You have to come with me to find out,”

—

Wood creaked beneath your feet, steps hesitant as the stranger escorted you along the way, your vision totally blinded as they had wrapped a cloth around your eyes. Closing your senses from the rest of the world, all you could do was rely on the sounds of hectic chatter and sea waves, a salty scent around you.

You’d been walking for what felt like miles, but your manor wasn’t too far away from the sea, that stretched out to meet a vast ocean, the only connection between your country and any others. You knew you had been taken to the coast, based on the cries of seagulls and the humming water.

The stranger’s hand was placed on the lower of your back, guiding you, as well as deterring you from any sudden moves. You probably would’ve tried to run away from them, were it not for the clang of metal that was attached to the stranger’s hip.

“Can you at least tell me your name?”

“I think you’re confused on our roles here, sweetheart,” They chuckled, “You don’t get to order me around,” They added a slight push at your back, emphasising the fact that they hold all the cards, whilst you’re just leverage. That was the only part of this you understood.

Sighing, you sneered your lip. You were starting to get pissed off, this stranger completely disrupted your sleep, blindfolded you, is kidnapping you, and you still have no clue as to why. You needed answers.

Your steps came to a halt, when you felt the stranger press you forward to nudge you, you hardened your legs to the ground.

“I’m not continuing,” A pause, “You said you wanted to do this cordially, then tell me your name,”

The stranger sighed, you could almost hear the roll in their eyes, “Look, we’re almost here, okay?”

“Just a few more steps and then I’ll tell you,”

Another nudge at your back, along with a hand meeting yours, “Watch ya step,” They spoke, guiding you up what felt like a ramp, their hand leading you.

A door slammed behind you, the stranger removed their hands and disappeared for a short time before you felt them behind you again, fingers untying the knotted cloth. You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. Were they going to kill you?

Your eyes felt slightly raw after being covered so tightly for that long, after you adjusted to the air and light around you, you could take in your surroundings.

The room was slightly dimmed, lighted only by a few oil lamps that burned away in their designated corners, you noticed countless jars on the shelves, preserving different sea creatures and other things you could not recognise. Notes and maps were scattered all over the floor and the desks, piles of books, rustic and handmade, but neat and organised— in its own way. This was the room of someone who studied and researched, you could recognise the frantic illustrations immediately, could feel the passion that lingered in the room.

The stranger moved in front of you, “You just gonna stare?” Your eyes took them in now, fully in vision this time, with no more shadows to hide behind, no more cloth. Their eyes were a soft, dark brown, layers of hair falling over the sides of their face, the tips rimmed with leftover structure from saltwater. Strong jawline and a strong nose, their glasses sat atop the bridge, leaning down slightly, the black band you noticed before still covering their eye. Their attire consisted of a loose black, long-sleeved shirt, a large slit down the chest area, not tied with the laces, allowing you to see the vast black strings with pendants that made up the necklaces wrapped around their neck. You recognised it as a shirt that was traditionally stitched for men, though they certainly looked much better in it than any man could. Loose black pants which emphasised their slender waist, with dark long boots, you could see scuffing on the edges of them from wear, the laces splitting from frequent tying. You let out a sigh, before speaking.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Hange,”

“You’re not from this land,” You say, “You’re a person of the sea,”

Hange hummed, their hand meeting their hip once again.

“Are you going to kill me?”

They let out a laugh, one so inappropriate it almost made you feel stupid, “Sweetheart, if I was going to kill you, d’you think I’d have taken you here?”

“Well, it would’ve been foolish to kill me in my quarters,”

“Leverage needs to be alive to be worthwhile, that’s the whole point,” The way they spoke unnerved you, with their charismatic words and smug voice. Hints of a smirk tugging at their lips.

“Where is ‘here’, anyway?” You didn’t feel stable, the floor rocked up and down slightly, your stomach turning a little as you adjusted to the slight weightlessness of the structure. “We’re on water, I can hear the waves,”

“Don’t worry, we haven’t set sail yet,” They walked over to their desk, moving around some papers, studying its contents, “There’s still business to tend to before we do,” In other words, your father.

You watched them, the way their sword clung and clanked against the hardwood of the desk, their tall stature almost reaching the short ceiling of the cabin, hand splayed on the desk for stability. Hair tied up at the back, with strands spilling out of their tie.

“What’s my purpose here?” Your arms crossed over your stomach, fingers grabbing at the sleeves of loose fabric of your nightdress, feeling vulnerable.

“Your father’s in some trouble,” They chuckled, your heart sank, “He owes me,”

“For what?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions, princess.”

“I’m not a princess,” you replied, voice tensing. “Do not address me as such,” Hange’s lips tilted, noticing your misgivings, the tense shoulders and a quip in your upper lip. Distaste. Interesting.

“Your father’s trying to make you one. Queen Consort, as I’ve heard,” Your brows furrowed.

“I do not follow,”

Hange looked up from their pages, gazing right at you. You tried swallowing, throat dry, as they hoisted themselves off the desk and stepped closer.

“He commissioned us, my crew,” Hange spoke, “To track and retrieve the Marleyan jewel.”

“I thought that was legend, an ancient myth of a mystical jewel, passed down from stories.”

“Oh, it’s very real, my lady.” You sighed, at least they were addressing you properly this time.

“And a very dangerous job, at that.” You stared at Hange, looking for any hints that this was just an elaborate joke. None were found, though. They were serious.

“I lost two good men, almost the rest of my crew for that buffoon,” They sighed, a flash of anger in their eyes, rubbing the skin of their jaw, “We retrieved this jewel, and your father tried to rob me blind, I want compensation.”

“Why would he go to those lengths? I do not understand,”

“For you, princess.”

When you did not answer, Hange continued, “Apparently this was his golden opportunity, get the long-desired jewel to gift the King an offering for your hand to the prince. Establish power and riches, and a good suitor for his daughter.”

Your stomach churned, you knew your father was adamant on marrying you off, but this? This was something different, sinister. You knew Hange was telling the truth, the intricacies of the story fell into place too well to be a lie.

Your father was truly a despicable man, hungry for power, and uncaring of those he stepped on to get to his station. Now you were paying for his greed. You think back to your mother, wishing she had outlived him, maybe you would be different, now.

“He cost me two men, our stock and supplies,” Hange pressed, shaking their head, “I can’t have that.”

“So you take me for ransom?”

“If he is not willing to pay up, I’m taking it upon myself to make him. One way or another, he will pay.”

Tears rimmed the ducts of your eyes, you blinked them away, a futile attempt to not show weakness. You know what that meant, either in physical currency or emotional currency, even if he cared little for you, he’d be paying with the loss of a guaranteed seat. To a man like that, that’s punishment enough. You chewed the corner of your lip, nerves eating you up.

“I can’t believe he’d do this,” You could actually, it was more the disbelief of how quickly your situation had changed, “All to marry me off to a disgusting man, be done with me whilst he sits comfortably,”

“You don’t wish to marry a handsome prince? Live a life of wealth and comfort?” Hange looked amused, almost perplexed that this was against your wishes.

“I wish for nothing of the sort,” You sneered, “I crave a life of my own choosing.”

Hange’s features softened, feeling a tug of pity before shutting the feeling down. They almost related to you, almost. Before reiterating to themselves that you were the same as all the other rich nobles. Wealthy and comfortable in your ostentatious manors, with even more ostentatious dresses, whilst the rest of the population suffered, starved and fought for dregs of burnt bread and half pints of spoiled milk. You were no different. No different.

“Careful, my lady, or I’ll sail this ship with you in it,”

You let out a saddened laugh, “Better than what he was planning for me,” You snuck a glance at the circular port window, watching as people were busying themselves with tasks. Filling up crates of fruits, dried fish, barrels of wine and weapons. You mulled for a second, it could be worse, Hange could’ve killed you at the first meet, or even worse, your father successfully got his hands on the jewel, and shipped you off to live a life with a prince who couldn’t even fold his own clothes, or bathe himself. You could visualise your father sitting back, smug and content as he finally got what he always wanted. Abundant wealth and power.

“I do not wish to stay here.” You said, voice more confident than it had been the entire time. Hange looked up at you, surprise taking over their features, “You may demand whatever compensation you require from my father, but…”

“When you set sail, I wish to come with.”

—

Hange had left the captain’s cabin for quite some time, leaving you inside alone as you couldn’t be allowed on the deck yet, not trusted to not do anything stupid yet. They had to check on a few of the crewmates first. You were an interesting character to say the least, Hange could tell you were stubborn, though that’s normal for a high-born, accustomed to making demands and having them realised. It was easy to imagine you not mixing well at court, with your disregard for hierarchy and noble customs. They almost laughed at your conviction when you said you wished to board the ship, of your own accord. The most determined glaze over your features. That was an unexpected oversight, Hange didn’t expect you to go so willingly. A part of them was relieved, content they didn’t need to make it bloodier than it had to be. They have morals, after all. Hurting an innocent woman would provide no respect amongst their crew, not when the real fish was the father.

The crew’s respect and admiration for the captain of the ship was of utmost importance, they need a leader they could trust and admire, it was easy enough to have mutiny on your hands. The ship was passed down to Hange from their father, but the trust and good dynamic of a solid crew, you have to earn yourself. Hange had established that respect from one of their first expeditions, under their confident lead the ordeal had been speedy and efficient. Hange ordered the rewards to be split and distributed as was deemed fair. With multiple feats over harsh waters and perilous expeditions, Hange had consistently proved themselves as a strong leader, they ran a tight ship and their crew meant everything to them.

You sat there in your silly nightdress, ennui eating at your brain as you sat, wishing you could change into something else. Arms wrapped around your legs, looking around as you waited. Deciding to get up, you looked around the room, it was rather nice, for what it was.

You walked up to the shelves, sea oddities neatly placed preserved in jars, with linen labels pinned underneath. You noticed various species, octopi, starfish, eels, crabs and lobsters, and other creatures you had never seen before in your books. There were also drawn illustrations of the anatomy, their organs and bone structure— did Hange do all this?

Your eyes trailed around, landing on the maps and compasses discarded around the tables and floor, with coded markings and notes around certain landmarks, sketches of what you assumed to be distant lands. Looking in awe, wandering at all the things you had never heard of, let alone seen before. Hange must be so knowledgeable, so well-travelled, so.. free. All the things you wished you could be.

Running your fingers over the maps, you jumped back into propriety as the cabin door swung open, Hange’s footsteps filling the room. They looked at you, having noticed your sudden switch in demeanour.

“You inspecting my collection, my lady?” Their back was to you, hanging their outer coat on one of the nail pegs that had been hammered into the wall.

“I’m sorry, I..” You looked down, “I was just curious,”

“It’s alright, I’m quite fond of it myself,” They joined you, standing to your side and looking at where you had been caught touching the delicate papers.

“You did all of this?”

“Is that so surprising?” They chuckled, crossing their arms over their chest. “No,” You paused, “I have just never seen anything quite like this,”

“There are many wonders out in the world, I like to keep note of them,” “For plundering?” You joked, too late to bite it back before it slipped out.

They laughed, “Not everything is to be plundered, sometimes it’s enough to just take it in and observe,”

You looked up at them, there was something you couldn’t quite place about them, yet. They were unlike the pirates you had read about or heard bedtime stories of as a child.

“The world has many corners of beauty, they’re deserving of respect and admiration." Agreeing, you pointed at the display of jars, thinking back to your own research on botany, categorized and illustrated, frowning as you realised it was all left behind. All those hours spent bending your neck under candlelight wasted. “I have a similar collection, pressings of flowers and plants- a little like yours, illustrations and marked under their specifications: edible, toxic, healing,"

Hange looked at you, "Sounds wonderful," unexpecting to have anything in common with someone of your stature, and yet, here they were. "It's all in my quarters, so I doubt I shall see it again," You breathed out, trying to not make it seem like a loss. Hange's gaze turned towards the floor, feeling slightly culpable that they had taken that away from you.

Straightening their back up, they moved back to their satchel, opening it wide and grabbing some folded clothing, jars with some clear liquid, slightly cloudy. Moonshine, you noted. Easier to distil your own rather than paying double for liquor.

“This is for you,” They hummed, holding out their hand waiting for you to walk over and grab them.

“What is it?”

“Provisions,” They shrugged, “And some clothes, we don’t have a lot aboard, but you can have my cast-offs, they were going to be left at the port anyway.”

You looked at them like they had grown seven heads, not expecting sudden kindness from someone who kidnapped you only a few hours ago.

“This where you say ‘thank you, Hange’.” There was the smugness again, an impish look on their features, you rolled your eyes you stepped closer.

Grabbing the items from them, “Thank you, Hange,” You felt meek, under their heavy gaze as you said their name for the first time. It felt strange hearing it from your own mouth, “Any longer in that nightdress and I probably would’ve thrown myself overboard,”

They laughed, “Don’t think you’ll prefer my clothes any more, truthfully, but if you’re going to stay here for now, might as well blend in.”

“Anything is better than this,” You ran your fingers over the fabric.

“Get dressed, it’s mealtime soon,” “You’re letting me eat?”

They looked at you strangely, “I’m not letting a person on my ship starve, I’m not barbaric,” They stated as if it was obvious, it might’ve been, but not to you.

“Thank you,”

Nodding, Hange left you to get changed. Giving you privacy as they shut the door behind them, you waited a few seconds before undressing. You weren’t accustomed to wearing pants, nobility requiring you to wear frilly dresses that cut off your circulation and itched at your neck and wrists, you were rather excited to adorn some comfortable cloth, for once.

As you manoeuvred the loose shirt over your limbs, you noticed a lingering musk of salt and sandalwood? It was rather pleasant, you would normally make your own scented oils and perfumes from boiled flower petals, lavender and honeysuckle, plants native to your country. This scent was uncommon, usually gifted to you at court from wealthy travellers. You lifted the fabric closer to you, inhaling, it truly was divine. Is this what Hange smells like? You couldn't honestly say you hated it.

Slipping your legs through the pants, they were a bit over your standard size, you tucked the wide bottoms into your own boots. You were glad you opted for your hunting boots rather than your daily shoes. Not quite sure that you had put everything on properly, as the fit felt odd. Looking down, everything felt slightly too big and made you feel like a child in adult’s clothing. Frowning you tried tucking in the shirt, though that didn’t really seem to help either.

There was a knock at the cabin door, “Are ya decent?”

The concept made you chuckle, Hange treated you with a lot more respect and propriety than some of the men at court.

“Yes.”

“Never had to knock on my own door before,” Hange joked, letting themselves in, gazing over at you in your fresh clothes. Their smile dropped ever so slightly as their eyes travelled over your new attire. Hange's poet blouse hanging on you, you had, of course, actually tied the laces at the chest, you were a Lady after all. Kinda suits you, they thought, before shrugging it away to hidden corners.

"Does it look alright? It's a little big," "You complaining?" You flustered, not wanting to come across as ungrateful, "Not at all, I-" "I'm messing with you, may I?"

When you nodded, they walked up closer to you, eyes unreadable. You stiffened up, back a little straighter when they brought their hands to the bottom of the blouse. Watching their movements hesitantly, Hange did not make contact with your eyes, they were so close to you. Catching that hint of sandalwood again, almost intoxicating as you honed your vision onto their hands. Looking for anything else to concentrate on, it didn’t help much as Hange focused on undoing the bottom three catches, revealing your uncovered abdomen. They grabbed at the two, now separate hangs of the shirt, your breath hitching when their fingers delicately grazed your bare skin, a minute jerk of your stomach as Hange began tying the fabric together so it fit tighter around your waist. So that was the trick to it, then? You must admit, it was an improvement.

You let out a heavy breath when they were done, and finally stepped away. It was harder to breathe when Hange was that close, you will not let that happen again. Feeling far too clouded upon their proximity, perhaps you were allergic to the fragrance, you reasoned.

“Better?” Their voice lowered, awaiting your judgment,

“Much, thank you.”

—

Mealtime came quickly after, you hadn't expected it to be so busy, or so populated. How many people does it take to effectively run a vessel of this size? Hange led you to the upper deck, evidently the largest space aboard, where mealtimes commonly occurred. A large pot of warm meat stew was being led out by a small woman from the galley, placed upon the floor as the crew grabbed portions as they pleased. Hange passed you a ceramic dish, before ladling a couple spoonfuls into your plate.

Thanking them, you looked around, spotting barely any dining tables or chairs, mainly stools or planks of wood nailed together to form a bench, most taken up by the sailors, as others sat themselves in the grooves on the ship deck, some on the rim of the ship itself. You shall not risk that, you thought, still adjusting to the feeling of a rocking vessel.

“You’re probably used to something more polished, but this is how we eat here,” Hange shrugged, “Try to enjoy the stew, Sasha truly works wonders with very little,”

“Landing at port was a godsend, I used fresh meat this time,” The brunette who brought out the food spoke, overhearing the conversation, who you assumed was Sasha. You stilled, this time? What about every other time, you thought, shuddering. Well, no time to adjust like the present. Sticking the spoon into the stew, you took a mouthful, before looking up at Hange in wonder, eyes wide, “This is delicious,”.

“Thank Sasha, she keeps us all standing,” Hange joked, placing a hand upon Sasha’s shoulder.

“What do you normally eat?” You asked, directing your question over to Sasha,

“Usually what we can grab and preserve for a long time, dried meats, beans, your city has a lovely selection of fruits so we’ve stocked some of those, too!” She smiled at you, and you found that she had quite a comforting presence, feeling at ease, you hoped you could form a friendship with her.

Hange excused themselves, as they had something to attend to with someone called Levi. You watched them as they walked away, interacting with their crewmates, laughing with them over something you couldn’t hear. They definitely knew how to command attention, their entire being was self-assured, and confident in themselves and their abilities. Dragging your eyes away, back to Sasha, who watched you with a smile on her face.

“You’re not what I expected when Hange told us the plan,”

“I hope I haven’t disappointed,” you retorted, not really knowing how else one could respond to that. Sasha simply laughed, “It’s a great deal different, but not disappointing,”.

—

You had remained on the deck, the crew wanting to have a little friendly spar for morale. If this was the only entertainment you could get, you’d gladly take it. Having finally secured a spot on one of the benches, you watched as different spars played themselves out.

After a few, though, it was all starting to become a bit monotonous. Feeling your eyes glaze over, you were suddenly conscious of the fact that you hadn’t had a good nights rest since Hange took you, where would you even sleep tonight?

Your attention was redirected when a crewmember called out Hange’s name, challenging them to a spar. The newly formed crowd cheered as Hange made their way into the sparring space. A smirk on their lips as they vaunted, hand clasping their sword as it was unsheathed. Finally take a good look at it, it was a fine piece of metal, sleek and thin. The handle was adorned with intricate patterned etchings.

You took notice of how Hange handled the blade, slender fingers wrapped around the hilt as they pointed it towards the opponent. No shaking, no hesitation. A sturdy, stable grasp, with an arrogant side smile that captivated you, eyes glued on their movements as the opponent tried to disarm them, unsuccessfully. Hange was slightly more agile, their body flowed like liquid, vivacious as they fought. It seemed like they could almost foresee the man’s footing and which way he’d direct an attack. They must’ve sparred together many times. A few more attempts and Hange trapped his blade, lifting his own up and twisting their arm. His sword fell to the floor with a clang, reverberating against the wooden deck.

“Damn it, Captain!” The opponent yelled out, frustration in his voice as he thought he’d actually win this time, Hange only hung their head back and laughed, the strands of hair that edged down their face slipped back, exposing their jaw and neck. A gentle smile escaped your lips as you watched, they looked so liberated, so strong. Hange truly was an enigmatic figure, they carried themselves with authority that you can’t say you’d ever seen elsewhere. They were charismatic, magnetic, you could see that they truly had the admiration of their crew.

“You’ll have to try harder to beat me,” Hange teased, sheathing their sword, a mischievous glaze in their eyes as they landed on you. Your heart picked up, unable to pull your own gaze away from theirs, almost enchanted when you noticed the corner of their lips tilt up.

Breaking away from the contact, you felt your ears grow warm. Deciding to find the wooden deck the most interesting thing around you, until scuffed boots appeared in your line of vision. Looking up, Hange had stepped closer to you, placing their hand into a pocket of their pants.

“Time to retire, my lady?”

Fumbling, you flustered, “Where am I to sleep?” Members of the crew were scattered, some sleeping on the floor of the deck, some had set up rustic hammocks, whilst others continued to wander the floor.

“In my quarters,” Hange stated as if it was obvious, “Unless you’d prefer to sleep next to that lot,” They pointed at the others, crewmates who slept on their stools with their heads resting on their arms placed on the brim of the ship. The expression on Hange’s face made it clear that they were mocking you, perfectly aware of how you would not prefer that option.

“I fear my spine would crumble,” You jested, your lie blatant.

“Come,” They nudged their head towards the stern of the ship, where the Captain’s private quarters were. Hange’s comfortable room with all the fascinating oddities. You’d much prefer sleeping there, you thought.

Following, Hange led you back to their space, all things considered, you felt rather guarded there. Strangely safe and sound. Something tugged at your mind that Hange wouldn’t stand for anything to happen to you, not even for you specifically— Hange’s crew appeared quite companionable, you attributed that to their leader. You wondered how far those pleasantries extended, what acts of horror were allowed and which were not.

Closing the door behind them, Hange hung up their outer coat on its peg, rolling their shoulders as a minor stretch. Bringing their hands up to the back of their neck, rubbing the tender muscle atop their skin.

You stood, clutching your elbows under crossed arms. The silence in the cabin contrasted the raucous crew outside, some still sparring.

“Was that moonshine?” Your voice broke through the quiet, looking towards the jar of liquid Hange had brought you as 'provisions'. "No, it's grog," "Grog?" "Rum and water," Pulling a face, you continued.

"Is it good?" "Not really, but we don't drink it for its taste." Nodding, you picked up the jar, inspecting. "Did you make it?" Hange scoffed, smirking to themselves, their arms coming to cross over their chest, "It's far easier to steal from merchant ships, they're always overloaded with stock," "I see."

"I think I would like to try it," Hange raised their eyebrows at you, a playful look struck their features. "Oh?" They continued, "I brought it for you, thought you might need a little pick-me-up, have at it."

Uncorking the jar, the aroma of the liquor invaded your senses. "It smells strong," Hange nodded, watching with a devilish face as you brought the rim to your lips. After a gulp, you couldn't hold back a cough as the force of the harsh drink burned through your throat, your lips twisting and your eyebrows squeezing together. "That's revolting," "Yeah, it's pretty bad," Hange laughed, grabbing the jar from you and taking a bigger gulp for themselves, passing it back to you. Truly, you don't know what possessed you to take another sip, but it became easier to tolerate.

A few half hours passed, and you had placed yourself on Hange's wicker couch, your bed for the foreseeable. Arms wrapped around your legs which pressed to your chest. You were definitely feeling the effects of the liquor, tolerance much lower than Hange's, who sat on the floor beside the couch. Feeling far more relaxed, your tongue was a tad looser, speaking to and asking Hange questions you would've otherwise probably not asked. Truthfully, you were curious, there was a lot you wished to learn about them. When you first met Hange, you expected a lot of things, you didn't anticipate them being quite as respectful and honourable towards you as they were. There was more to them than what was seen on the surface, you wanted to see what lay deeper.

"But why? Why do you choose to live a life of piracy? Wouldn't it be far safer to live on land?" "Not everyone is lucky enough to be born atop riches, that's an irregular gift given only to a few," Hange spoke, their words thoughtful despite having drank even more than you, "Life at sea is more forgiving than the hardships on land." "Yes, but... there must be something else, even with the hardships at land?

"No offence, my lady," Pausing, "What would you know of hardship on land? My father worked his hardest, damn near broke his back, just to be cheated and stripped of his dignity by the greed of others." Looking down at your knees, a pull of guilt struck, knowing that it was because of people like you, and your father.

"This was his way of ensuring his own future, on his own terms and not under the boot of the wealthy who build their livelihoods on the backs of others." Hange sighed, taking another sip of grog, "At least on the sea, what you see is what you get, fight for what you want and share the rewards. It's not the most honest work, yes, but it's far more honest than those sitting in ivory towers clicking their fingers for anything they desire."

You watched as Hange spoke, their words were true, honest reflections of everything they stood for. Pirate or not, Hange had more substance than you'd ever encountered in anyone else in your life. More than those who coat their words with sugar, kissing up to their higher-ups all for a sliver of what they had.

Hange passed you the jar, and you swallowed another sip, barely tasting the alcohol by this point. This was the first you had heard of Hange's family. "I understand that," you hummed, "I've always thought it unfair, why others are seen as less based on menial things such as money. I suppose my father was my introduction to that, a part of me has always despised him."

"I wondered why you came with me so willingly, though if I had your father I would probably have been similar." Laughing, you nodded, "Truthfully, I have felt disillusioned from my life, perhaps I wanted something refreshing, a different way of being."

"Besides, you intrigued me, I find you fascinating," Your words slipped out, the grog having seriously impacted your inhibitions. Hange's eyes met yours, impish and deviant. The edge of their lip quipped up, delightfully amused. "Is that right, my lady?" They leaned their weight on their right hand that was pressed against the cabin floor, as their left remained hanging off the leg they had propped up. Your skin burned underneath their gaze, and you found that your tongue shattered. Unable to respond, all you could do was meet their half-lidded stare, thunder in your chest, as it lifted up and down. Shit. "I think that's enough grog for you, princess,"

Breaking contact, you pointed at Hange's shelves, to where their collection lay, clearing your throat before speaking. "Like your collection, it-it's fascinating, I wish I could've grabbed mine," You deflected, altering the matter, anything to stop the thunder in your chest and remember yourself. Anything to stop the blaze before it spread far beyond control.

"When we set sail, you can start a new collection." They softened, "One with all the new plants you'll see,"

—

You felt like shit the following morning. Head thumping with each movement, you could only sit on one of the benches with your hands holding up the weight. "Grog fever?" Sasha's teasing voice rang out through your ears, "Been there."

"This is awful," "First time?" "Obviously," You rubbed your eyes, as Sasha lightly patted you on the back, "You'll survive,"

Two presences joined you and Sasha at your bench, one was shorter with black hair, and the other stood upright, with scraggly blonde hair. "This is Levi, he's the First Mate, pretty much Hange's second in command," Sasha spoke, introducing you, "Don't mind him, he's a bit of an ass." "The other is Reiner, also a bit of an ass," She giggled, finding entertainment within herself.

Levi nodded at you, a silent greeting which you didn't mind as listening and speaking were already hard enough with the thumping in your head. Reiner looked at you, before pulling his hand out to meet yours. "Lovely to meet such a beautiful lady," He declared, eyes scouring down your body, "I'm looking forward to having you aboard," His words reeked with flirtation, his cold eyes geeking you out, discomfiting, not like the handsome brown ones you melted into yesterday.

Almost as if reading your mind, Hange appeared, they had left the ship this morning, as apparently, they had some errands to run. Hange set their hands on Reiner's shoulders, carrying an indistinct countenance. "Reiner, I have matters to discuss, come," They spoke, before walking a few steps ahead, waiting for him near the stern, arms crossed.

"Coming, captain," Reiner followed their lead, you kept glancing over to them as Sasha picked up chatter with Levi. You were straining your ears to catch snippets of their conversation, a little difficult over Sasha's voice in front of you, the little you could make out came from Hange: Not this one.

As you switched your attention back to the table, wondering what the hell that was about, you had just bypassed Sasha's looking towards you, her brows crinkling and face pulling into a look of recognition. Huh, she thought, how about that?

—

As the day passed, the time to set sail was nearing, planned for sometime within the next two days depending on supplies and readiness. Apprehension was harder to ignore, you thought about what your father was currently doing, and his reaction upon discovering you had not been in your chambers the following morning. Mulling, you cackled to yourself, clasping your hand over your mouth to mask the giggles as the gravity of what you had done struck you. Never did you imagine your life to end up in this way.

Hange entered their quarters, hanging up their coat, "What's so funny?" " "I just can't believe what I'm doing," your laughter settled down, breathing returning to standard as Hange placed themselves next to you on the wicker couch. "Yeah? You 'n me, both," They chuckled, pausing, "Hey, uh- I wanted to give you this,"

You studied them, catching a modest element of hesitation on Hange that you weren't familiar with seeing. Hange handed you a book, of beautifully bound brown leather, the spine stitching exposed with light-coloured thread. "What is this for?" "You left your notes behind, so this is for your new collection," You gaped at them, prompting Hange to continue, "For all the new plants you'll see and learn about,"

Wordless, you looked between Hange and the book in your hands, feeling the skin at your cheeks heating up. "Hange, this is- thank you, so much," Nodding, Hange steeled, standing themselves up, nearing the door before speaking, "The shantyman is going to play for a while, the crew loves him, so you don't wanna miss it," It was customary for ships to bring musicians. They'd sing songs and play tunes to boost morale amongst the crew, to carry them through the harrowing nights, and oftentimes even spread their hopes for some romance. You definitely wanted to witness it, Hange held the cabin door open for you as you both made your way to the deck.

The musician was doing his thing, leading the crew in song, banging a drum as melodies rang through the vessel. You noticed Sasha dancing with the crewmembers. It was a little overwhelming, the events you had attended at court were much milder and reserved than this, uppity, really. People would rarely dance, it was almost taboo. This was far distant from that, it was fun, delightful even—almost hedonistic in style.

You weren’t quite sure how to join yourself with them, the dances varying from person to person made it hard to fall into a step. Hange noticed your hesitance, before clasping your hand and pulling you towards them. Their hand resting upon your waist, drawing you tighter as they moved into a dance. The air in your lungs tripped over itself, shortening your breath. Stomach pressed against stomach.

Looking up at them, Hange donned a smug smile, higher up on one side of their mouth as it hung from their lips.

“Dance with me, princess,” Hange hummed, their voice lowered. There came the thunder in your chest again, the blaze was spreading.

“I’ve told you to not address me like that,” You whispered, the contention you planned on executing in your voice was nowhere near where you had planned. Instead, it was mild, for fear that would fumble over your own words, as your tongue shattered once again.

“I can’t help it,” They grinned, skimming over your flustered appearance. You don’t know what kind of sorcery Hange held, what alluring magnetism in their blood drew you to them. You felt yourself begin to melt into their tempting gaze, as you blinked.

“Careful, don’t look at me like that or I might begin to get the wrong idea,” Hange’s head sank towards your neck, your breath hitched. Their proximity was intoxicating, you found you couldn’t bear the weight of it. Pulling yourself away from Hange, you rushed to the cabin, pushing open the door and letting yourself inside.

Letting out a bulky breath, your face was burning up, body temperature way over standard as you rested your hands on Hange’s desk. Clamouring to compose yourself. Hange knocked at the door, before entering. Shutting your eyes, you remained still.

“You okay?” Ignoring them, you relented in your stance. The tension in the room increased, heart pulsing as you heard their footsteps reach close.

“I think I have fever,” You mumbled, Hange was right behind you now. You could feel their warmth reaching your back.

“Stand and face me, dear,” An assertive hand maintained at your waist, turning your body toward them Hange held down your gaze, keeping their hand in its place, squeezing. “This is no fever,”

Their free hand came to meet your jaw, thumb ghosting over the soft skin. Hange lowered their head towards you, their face so near, your sanity was in a thick haze, heavy and clouded. "I can see the dark in your eyes, my lady," Hange hummed, relishing in the glaze in your eyes, at the darkness pooling in your pupils as you glimmered up at them, eyes doe and lips plump from biting. The heat from their voice raised your skin, touring down your spine as an ache between your thighs pulsed.

Hange's lips brushed against the velvety flesh at the base of your neck, tentative. You shivered as you felt their lips leave delicate kisses, hand tightening around your waist. You shut your eyes, reeling in the sensation as Hange's igniting touch drew shaky breaths. Thighs clenched together as their lips reached the base of your ear, teeth tugging at the skin. You whimpered, as Hange's hands grabbed at the top of your thighs, just underneath the curve of your ass as they directed you to the top of the desk. Placing themselves between your thighs, before whispering, "Will you indulge me, dear?" With another kiss on your ear, you crumbled, arms wrapping around Hange's neck as your legs folded around their waist.

"Please, Hange, I can't bear it," You panted, core clenching around nothing, as desperation took over. Hange sighed, hearing their name fall from your lips as your body trembled was a sight to behold. Their lips finally landed on yours, tongue pushing into your mouth. Quivering hands grabbed at the back of their head, tightening around Hange's hair, trying to release the buildup of tension in your bones.

Lips broke apart, "Do you know what it does me seeing you wear my clothes?" Voice impassioned, almost hoarse. The hand at your hip moved to the catches at your shirt, reminiscent of the way they grazed your skin that day. Undoing the catches, your abdomen and breasts exposed, goosebumps forming from the sudden coolness of the air. Hange observed as your stomach jerked, smirking as they watched how your body responded. Hand slipping in between the open fabric, meeting the bare skin as you gasped before the shirt slid off your shoulders and onto the cabin floor.

Hange whined at your revealed skin and dishevelled state, the most disordered they had seen you. Their hand cupped your breast, watching as your lips parted and the sweetest cries escaped. Fingers stroking at your hardened nipples, as your pants were slowly being dragged down your legs. Your hips squirmed as Hange went on their knees, head just at the top of your shins. One hand still massaged your nipple whilst the other was around your ankle, holding your leg in place as they lapped their tongue up the skin, retaining steady eye contact. As their tongue reached your inner thigh, your head hung back, and you bit back choked whimpers, hips jolting with anticipation.

"Hange," you rasped, squeezing your thighs around their head, your nails coming to meet the top of the back, "Yes, my dear?" "Please," you pleaded, you had already come this far, you needed to feel it through, you could barely sit up, losing strength in your back. "Patience, sweetheart,"

Fingers left your breasts and made their way to the hem of your underwear. Hange bit their lip at the line of the dampness that had seeped through the thin fabric. "Fuck," they mumbled, tugging the material down where it remained hanging at your ankles, so dishevelled, so messy.

The tips of Hange’s slender fingers reached your dripping heat, arousal covering your thighs as they ghosted sensual touches over your warm slit, puffed and leaking. Thighs tensing as the feeling released itself as strangled whines. Hange was obsessed, exhilarated by the sweet sounds that left your dear lips.

“Fuck, Hange,” Hips rolling into their fingers, pressing closer for more touch, chasing the sensation as it came, "That feels fucking good," "Such rotten language," Hange taunted, the tip of their finger burying into your soaking entrance, stretching the silky walls, “Looks like I’ve been a bad influence,”

Leaving a few more kisses on your thigh, Hange stood back up to reconnect your lips, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip. The kiss successfully distracted you, as more fingers entered, slowly rocking into your flesh, as bliss overtook the initial sting. Hips began to tilt, grinding against the pressure. The sounds leaving you were indecent, vulgar, as Hange augmented the pace, rocking their fingers into you. Suddenly you were glad for the singing out in the deck, obscuring the noise within the cabin. Your head fell into their neck, whining as you could only sit there and take it. Fingers stuffing your swollen centre, pressing against the squishy barriers.

The muscles in your abdomen tensed, clenching around Hange's fingers as your hips buckled. "That's it, dear, you're taking it so, so well," Your eyebrows pinched together, voice escaping you, "Taking me like such a good girl,". Hange spoke, voice purring. That was the nail in the coffin; the honey in their words, the strain in their voice as you felt your release shattering through you. Hips convulsed as your arousal spilled all over Hange's fingers, grabbing their shoulders for support. A few more pumps and Hange removed their fingers, looking down at your clenching hole at the trickling cum, their hand completely drenched.

Hange kissed you, before you broke away and uttered words that led Hange to understand they could never have their fill, "More, please," you begged, voice breathy and whiny as you tightened your legs around their waist. Chuckling, endeared Hange responded, "My, my, dear, you're truly filthy."

Hange moved themselves down to your pussy, still swollen despite its release. With a quick glance back towards you, cheeks flustered and eyes black. Desire tensed your features as your chest heaved up and down, breasts exposed and legs spread, quaking. Such a heavenly sight.

A touch over your slit, Hange spat on your folds, the sight eliciting languid moans from you. It truly was filthy. Pussy clenching with desperation as it grazed you, spreading down your slit with the weight of gravity. Hange pressed their tongue against it, carelessly lapping up the cum that had been leaking out of you. Frenzied guttural groans liberated into your centre as they sucked, the vibrations left you reeling as your hand came to clasp your breast, kneading. Trailing over your own nipple, Hange was not about to accept that, slapping your hand away and rolling their fingers over the bud.

Overstimulation left you choking, tears spilling from your lids as Hange worked their warm tongue over your sensitive folds, drinking in the saltiness as one hand played with your nipple and the other ghosted over your opening. Thighs tightened around their head, cutting off Hange's air supply as you rutted your hips over their face, pushing yourself closer against their tongue. Nose nudging over your clit as their head bounced against you.

“Hange, fuck— I’m, mhm- I’m gonna cum, please let me come,” You babbled, stammering. Needy. You took them in, nose, chin and cheeks wet from your arousal, saliva running down; their eyebrows pulled together with determination and eyes rolling with indulgence, as if you were the tastiest meal they ever had. The taught restraint you had carried your entire life totally dissipated as you surrendered to Hange’s command over your body. Fingers filling into you, knuckles deep, rubbing over the squishy flesh. The added penetration forced out the second catharsis, sucking Hange in as you released over their face, tainting their glasses.

Resting your back on the desk, breaths heavy as you came down from whatever entity had possessed you. Panting. You covered your face with your hands, as your clandestine actions struck you. The drunken, indecent impropriety you fell into and enjoyed.

“No use being bashful now, my lady,” They teased, dragging away the hands that obscured your face. Grabbing your face, reconnecting your lips with gentle touches. Kisses so tender you couldn’t find it within yourself to see anything wrong.

How could something so honeyed be perverse?

—

um yeah, this is my application to hell…

#pirate hange bc im obssessed #also why is there barely any fics on hange like have yall seen them???#someone call the doctor cos i am SICK #lowkey an essay on my hatred towards rich people 😭#also ive been reading lots of sappho can u tell #lesbian #hange zoe x reader #hange aot #hanji zoe x reader #attack on titan fic #wlw smut #hange zoe fic #hange zoe #hanji zoe

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haruchi-slit · 5 months ago

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"THERAPY IS EXPENSIVE BUT DICK IS FREE"

warnings: mdni, toji and reader meet in the bar, ooc (slight?), reader refered as: girl & slut, fucking against the wall, p in v, pussy eating, semi-public sex, not proof read... | a/n: almost scrapped this idea cause i had a migraine, i almost died :o

so exhausted from work and life? why not go have fun once in a while with your friends at the club? it had been a long and difficult week for you, dealing with the aftermath of your broken engagement to your now ex-fiance.

working under the pressure of your personal life is damn tough, you can't even get one work done without breaking into tears, remembering your fiancé of 5 years left you for some girl he met at work, his voice still echoes non-stop in your brain, the night he confronted you about your relationship, "I'm sorry, but i cant do this i cheated on you..." and it just makes your heart pulse and fuel with hatred and pain, with your hand in your head you sighed deeply as you continued to type in your laptop, your mascara all ruined and your eyes were sore, "I can't believe he can do that, fucking bitch, fucking shit, goodness burn in hell!" you grunt as you broke in to tears, you were a crying mess, you lolled your head back to your chair as streams of tears overwhelmed your thoughts,

"fuck-" you sighed, before hearing a knock on your office door, "w-wait!" you grumbled, wiping off your tears with the back of your hand, you stood up catching your breath as you opened the door you were greeted by shoko with yuki,

"heyyy! what are you two doing here?" you forced a smile, "girl are you ok? your fucking mascara is all over your face!" shoko worriedly asked as she nursed your cheeks wiping off your messed up mascara, "shoko, take a closer look, do you think she's ok? of course not, duh!" yuki blurted out as you chuckled,

"ok- guys what the fuck are you guys doing here?" you uttered,

"to get you outta misery!" yuki snickers, "yeah, what yuki said-" shoko sighed, "were taking you to the club, to destress" shoko continued,

"but i have work to do-" you dabated, "no butts, it's already been 2 months! i already talked to nanamin, he said it's fine and choso will take care of your work!" yuki exclaimed.

"you guys know i have to change right?" you rolled your eyes, sitting in the backseat of yuki's car, "yeah, that's why we brought you a some...stuff" shoko reaches out for the paper bag in the back of the car before giving it to you, "just change here in the car, the window's tinted" yuki chuckles as she focused on the road...

as soon as the three of you arrived at the club, you stepped out of the car along with yuki and shoko "youu look so fineee!" yuki smiled holding both of your hands, "damn, thank you", you smiled back, "guys c'mon let's go, i need a drink asap" shoko snapped the two of you back before she walked in the club, "yee let's have fun!" yuki exclaimed dragging you in the club, the three of you sat on the couch while the music blasts against your ears, it was so loud, the flickering lights blinded you as you looked around.

your eyes focused to the girls and guys bumping to each in the dancefloor, the stage crowded with girls doing the most nastiest moves as cash blows around them, till a particular person caught your attention, raven dark hair, green piercing eyes, tall and broad, bulging muscles and someone who looks like they're in their mid 30's, he's so fucking fine, glamorous even. while the three of you chat, and drink you and that gorgeous man exchanged the glares, he gives you one of the finest smirks across the club, all you could do was stare at him with a unconscious smirk plastered in your face,

"who are you looking at?" yuki sheepishly asked, while she waved one of her eyebrows, "definitely no one" you scoffed, as you swirled your alcohol in the glass cup, "oh really?" shoko jested, the three of you laughed, you took a glance on him once more while you sipped your alcohol to its last drop, you pressed your eye lids together as the alcohol flow down your throat.

"agh- let's go and have fun" you hissed, wiping of the alcohol that trickled down on the edges of your lips with your hand, "shitttt, and here we go the old her is backkk!" shoko exclaimed with yuki following you to the dance floor, where people are grinding against each other, you swayed your way close to him, you knew it was risky, flirting with a stranger in a bar, but you couldn't resist the opportunity to forget your dumb ass ex, you got a little closer to him grabbing his attention, "hey there mama, are you alone?" he starts of, radiating with charmness and suave, with a hint of danger in his dark eyes that only made him more appealing, "nah, I'm with my friends, here to forget my fucking ex" you drawn out hazed with the shots of alcohol you've just drunk, "oh really?" he chuckles "yeah, that fucking bitch wasted five years. five fucking years" you huffed, rolling your eyes, he smirks clearly amused by you, "toji. name's toji" he spoke and he was so fucking smooth with it, you chuckled in response, "no, need to know my name...toji" the both of you talked for what seemed like hours, lost in each other's company and the music pulsing through the club. you found yourself grinding against him as your conversation flowed so smoothly,

"y'know, i can take your pain away, hah" he whispers, his hot breath fanning your ear, sending shivers to your core,

before you knew it, toji was leading you to the club's restroom, his touch was gentle and reassuring, yet it was so rough, as he guided you through the crowd, you felt a surge of adrenaline at the thought of what was about to happen, a mix of fear and desire swirling in your veins as he pushed open the door and pulled you inside, you were so drunk in his presence...

in the dimly lit restroom, toji's lips met yours in a searing kiss that ignited a fire within your thobbing cunt. you instantly melted against him, with your body responding to his touch with a need that eclipsed all rational thought,

"t-touch me more-hah! kiss me more, please!" you gasped, as his hand roamed freely on you, his hand tracing on the edges and crevices of your perfect body, giving the attention that it needs, which your ex didn't do, he pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that matched with your own, he rolled your dress up to your chest, almost ripping it off, he'd kiss your forehead before his kisses traveled down to your shoulders, stomach, before he dropped down to his knees, facing your clothed aching cunt,

"all I've done was touch and kiss you- so fucking wet already?" toji huffs, as you struggled to stand properly inside the bathroom stall, he tugs the hem of your panties as letting it pool down to the floor of the restroom, you placed your hand to his broad shoulders, the other on his hair, you saw him lick his lips, before diving down to your pulsing cunt, pushing you deep on the cold wall of the restroom, his hand grabbed a handful of your ass and thighs placing it on his shoulder prying your legs a little bit wider,

"hmmmnn~" you'd groan, stealing a pleased hum from you, as the brige of his graced your clit while he bobs his head up and down, you could feel his grunts vibrating against your gushing pussy, matched with his skilled tongue laying on your dripping cunt,

"t-toji- hgh" you moaned gripping on his hair, as he continues to bob his head on you,

"toji-" you moaned once again, with a breathy plea, "easy-" he purrs, before diving once more between your thighs, your thighs quivered as you feel your climax near.

in that moment, there was only toji and you locked in a dance of desire and need that transcended words, he moved his tongue in your cunt with grace and skill that took your breath away, with each lick he made sent you higher and higher towards a climax that left you gasping for more, "c'mon, girl..." he murmured fanning your cunt with his scorchingly hot breath, you felt your breath hitch as your climax gushed on his face,

"hghhh-toji!" you gasped, breathless.

catching your while he stood up hungrily unbuckling his belt, letting his pants fall down on the floor along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock, before he landed a rough, passionate kiss on your tender lips, you respond to him, feeling butterflies filling your

stomach, as your knees fell weak, your mouths puffing heated breaths agaist each other, while your hands roamed freely on him.

he lifts you up and pressed your body to the restroom's wall as he aligned his angry tip on your entrance, before plunging his cock in you

"ahck!- ngh~" you moaned softly as your gummy walls was quick to wrap toji's aching cock, toji grunts as he pushed you deeper against the wall burying his cock on your heavenly cunt,

"mhmm, that's what i like, girl- sucking me in so good, such a slut" he laughs, thrusting deeper in you, as waves of ecstasy, washed all over your body, your eyes clouded with haze and lust, your legs instinctively wrapped against his waist as he plunged mercilessly in your pussy, "fwuaack-!" he blabbered as sweat trickled down on his forehead, your chests heaving uncontrollably while toji buries his face on the crook of your neck, fastening his pace, "so.fucking.tight!" he cursed under his breath, while he slams his hips on you,

"to-to'i m' close, m' close!" you warned,

and soon after both of you felt a sense of release wash over your bodies, feeling estatic, both of you catched your breath as you feel your mixed juices trickle down the floor, he pulls back and faced you...

"so- uh what's your name?" toji inquired..

meanwhile, "where the fuck is she?" shoko asked yuki, as she puffs out a cigarette smoke, "I don't know!"

#haruchi-slit #jjk #jjk smut #haruchi slit #jjk headcanons #smut #jjk polls #jjk smau #jjk toji #toji x you #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk fic

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perpetuallydaydreaming · 2 years ago

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i cant focus because i cant keep you out of my head.

5 times james potter got distracted because of you.

warnings: overly dramatic james || 3.3k words || james potter x you || fluff fluff fluff, getting together, friends to lovers

a/n: this is the first work i’ve posted on this fandom, i have alot planned!! so please dont be shy and drop some messages! i also feel like i have to clarify, any dialogues that’s italicized means james isn’t listening

i. missing his games

“and another bludger hits potter on the shoulder! it is not his night folks! will this be an opportunity for hufflepuffs to get ahead?” the speaker hisses, loudly echoing throughout the field. along with the empathetic oohs of the crowd.

james groans rubbing his shoulder quickly, for what seemed like the nth time tonight, before going into the scoring formation as practiced.

usually, he wouldn’t even hear the commentator during the game, he would be too into the game to notice any other noise other than his own breathing . but tonight’s game is different.

tonight, you weren’t there watching him.

he knows this for a fact, as he had been continuously looking in the stands. his focus foregoing the incoming buldgers, instead hoping to catch a glimpse of your messy hair and the abundant layer of clothes, you always wear to combat the cold in the stands. his eyes would quickly scan through the students, in hopes to spot you cheering and grinning as you have always had.

he had circled the area you usual vacant four times now, and still no sign of you anywhere.

he could hear geoffrey shouting at him to focus, zooming past him with the quaffle at hand. he could practically hear the hissing complaints and grumbles of minnie in the stands but when he fails to see you, he’s not inclined to care at all.

“james! what in the bloody hell are you doing?!” he could hear marlene shriek in frustration as he skidded to a stop, and pondered your whereabouts.

where were you?

you had always watched his games. always. even when you two were fighting or not talking to each other, you would always be there cheering him on.

he was sure you weren’t in detention, professors were usually more lenient during quidditch season. not to mention you don’t really get into much mischief as he, himself does.

“mckinnon scores even with a distracted captain!”

merlin, were you sick? is that why you were a no-show? he had heard you sniffling the other day, but you said you were fine. james knew that you rarely ever get sick, but when you do—it was the worst it could ever be.

knowing you, you had probably reassured your friends that you were fine and to leave you be. you never did know how to take care of yourself. so, james being the self-appointed best friend takes this responsibility of nursing you back to health very seriously.

he was about to go fly over your dormitory window and help you but then a heavy speeding bludger came speeding into his way. he had barely dodged the thing and suddenly all the noises of the game came rushing back into his ears.

right, he thinks. he should probably finish this first and then go see you straight after.

ii. passing notes with a person that isn’t him

james was having a particularly pissy day.

when he had the epiphany on why you had missed his game. james had rushed points after points, in hopes to end the game as quickly as possible. the game ending with gryffindor as the winner, by 120 points.

never mind celebrating, he hadn’t even thought of the fact he had broken an all-time scoring record in a single game and came rushing to your dorms. thoughts of you lying sick in bed, swimming in his mind.

but you weren’t lying sick in bed.

in fact, you weren’t in the dorms at all. or the common room. or the library. or the hospital wing. or even in the entire bloody castle (he checked). not only were you not in breakfast, the morning after the game you didn’t watch. now, he has the pleasure of seeing you blush and fuss, passing notes with a bloke from ravenclaw during potions.

“now this is detrimental to the potion, some have lost fingers when they neglected this step so pay attention—“

when did you even meet this guy? you were always hanging out with james. so it’s rare for him to see you with somebody he hasn’t met before.

especially, someone this ugly.

“who’s the arse talking to y/n.” james whispered harshly to sirius.

sirius, who for once, was listening in class had to stop and look at james with a confused look, from the sudden conversation.

james gave no clarification, his eyes still glaring heavily at the offending sight.

ah, sirius thought. an almost laugh leaving his mouth. “that’s charlie wilson, i reckon.” sirius whispered back. fighting the strong urge to grin as he added, “birds quite fancy him, i heard. something about how dreamy the lad is or something.” twirling his quill. already satisfied with the impending chaos he had stirred.

meanwhile james could hardly sit still, seconds away from erupting. he scoffs when he sees you blush.

pale hair, pale eyes and an even paler skin. he looked like a white bedsheet, is what he is! nothing dreamy about a bedsheet! james certainly hadn’t thought his bedsheets dreamy. surely you hadn’t either!

“failure to follow these steps strictly can be harmful.” slughorn droned on.

but it was nothing but a buzzing noise to james, as he feels the sudden urge to grab the silly paper full of your beautiful handwriting and his chicken scrawls and rip it to shreds.

iii. going to hogsmeade without him

james was forced into the trip to hogsmeade by remus. claiming some rubbish about how james has become a shell of a man, or how he dampens the mood. and some borderline blasphemous statement about how snivellus seems to be better company than him lately.

so to prove all the nay-sayers wrong, here he was trudging along the stoned pathway. looking gloomy as ever, as his friends drag him from store to store.

nothing seemed to be cheering him up, remus had thought. but james have always had the flare for the dramatics, so remus wasn’t too worried. instead continued on like his friend isn’t unraveling like the threads in an old sweatshirt.

“why am i even here?” james had groaned, eliciting an amused smirk from sirius and a wry smile from remus.

he was on the verge of insanity, really he was. when he sees it in his peripheral. the unquestionably familiar layers of clothing and your giddy smile as you went into a bookstore with the same gremlin from class.

stopping abruptly, garnering the attention of his friends and walked briskly to the store. offering no sort of explanation, but his mates followed anyway. having seen you enter too. busybodies as they are, they’re curious how this will play out.

“it’s the same lad,” hummed sirius, peeking through the door.

remus raised a brow, interest piqued. “same lad? what’d you mean?”

“wilson was having a quick bants with our dear y/n the other day.”

“really now,”

sirius wolfishly grinned, “you reckon y/n fancies him?”

james scoffed, sounding very closely to a growl. “as if.”

“now, james, no need to be narky.” remus teased.

all three hiding two shelves away from you. james couldn’t hear you but he could see you through the crack of the books, if he crouched down. he saw your mouth moving and smiling. a view, he realized he hadn’t seen in a while.

“now that i think about, y/n hasn’t been around lately, has she?” remus had voiced, his tone feigning an air of innocence and ignorance.

sirius, then followed suit, rubbing his chin looking forlorn. “now that you mention it moony, that sounds about right.”

“prongs,” they called out, hoping to see james puff out, red in the face and stomp away like a petulant child. but instead their teasing was met with silence.

he couldn’t believe this! you haven’t spoken a word to him all week and here you were cozying up to a practical stranger! yous had the audacity to even laugh at whatever pathetic excuse of a joke he just said to you. albeit, he hadn’t heard the joke but he sure it was trash either way.

“think we lost him padfoot.” remus snickered at the glowering and helpless look james had etched on his face.

the two of you walking to the counter, holding piles of parchments and paints and laughing and blushing and standing way too close to each other.

really, have you no shame?

iv. biting your lips

james had a mission. to finally talk to you after two weeks of radio silence. to corner you, no matter what, and demand explanation for your recent rendezvous and the lack of his presence with said rendezvous.

but you were making it hard for him to find you, let alone talk to you. he can’t seem to find you in the map anywhere either. lately not finding you and not talking has becoming an unwelcome norm for him.

classes you two shared was almost non-existent since all of the classes you attended were all advanced classes.

he had hoped that during potions would be the time to talk to you but before he could even say hello to you, chalk had taken your attention and quickly pulled him down to sit with you during class.

you always seemed to be whispering about something whenever he sees you two. heads close to one another and soft laughter always leaving your lips. it’s like you didn’t even notice you haven’t talked to him for weeks now.

“oh there you are james! i wanted to discuss some strategy for the finals against slytherins.” john bell going into spiel of his tactics for the game.

did he do something that put you off? i mean, yeah, you two were only friends but he was hoping that he was starting to be more than that to you. at least, the same way that you became more for him too.

or was it just him?

“i heard evermonde complaining during breakfast that regulus black had to sit out of the game because he’s sick. so they replaced their seeker with a total novice!” bell excitedly recounted the information, unaware that their captain couldn’t be bother to listen at all.

if you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, then you should’ve said so in the first place. instead of making him look like a fool!

and like some sort of miracle there you were at the end of the hall, alone.

breathing in deep and gathering all the courage of gryffindors and marched over to you with purpose and bouts of confidence blazing in his eyes.

“james, mate!” bell called over to james, his voice like water off of a dolphin’s back.

he was a bout to tell you off, maybe along the lines of how could you? or why did you miss my games? you always watch my games. or am i even your friend anymore? do like hanging with that cauliflower more than me? does he even play quidditch? can he even turn into a stag? is he even that funny. i bet i’m funnier.

“y/n!” he beckoned, jogging over to you in a hurry. you turned, books held tightly to your chest.

“james,”

once he was in front of you, breathing in deep. staring into your eyes and seeing your soft pillowy cheeks and soft smiles.

“how are you?” you breathed, shifting from one foot to the other.

he inhaled, how are you? after weeks of nothing—! he was about to tell you off real good but he forgot a crucial thing.

the slight tension and silence makes you nervous, so rather blabbing about nonsense to fill the silence, you opt to bite your lips and cheeks instead.

suddenly all thoughts seem to fly away from james. your nervous habit becoming more important to him rather than letting you how he feels. it seemed more interesting to him than anything he had ever seen before.

which was crazy, because this wasn’t the first time you did this! or is it because you haven’t been around lately that made his immunity to your distracting quirk lessened?

eventually the silence became way too unbearable, not to mention the staring from james getting too intense. you just had to get out of this really weird and quiet interaction.

“well, james, i have to go now.” you gave a polite and shaky smile, “see you ‘round.”

v. when you watch his games.

today was the last game of the season. everyone on the team was buzzing with nerves and excitement. john bell had made it his mission to let everyone know of what he learned about slytherin yesterday.

“ambrose greengrass is going to play seeker for the time being.”

sirius snorted out a laugh, “greengrass can barely get on his broom!”

“well talkalot was desperate for replacement so soon before the game.”

dawson rolled her eyes and smirked, “well, whoever they send out we’re still going to beat the crap of them!”

the team cheered in agreement.

sirius noticed the lack of quips from james, like he usually does before each games. he sighed, already knowing the root of it. if his mate’s wanly expression had anything to say about it.

going up to his broom at hand and grabbing james’ shoulder, shaking him rather roughly. as if to physically wake him up out of stupor.

“mate, this is your first finals as captain, what the hell are you doing moping like some grandma?”

james looked up and saw the entire team looking at him. breathing in deep. “you’re right, pads.” grabbing his broom and bellowing in his loudest voice, “let’s win this!”

as much as it pains james, he had to forgot about you for a moment and focus on the game. his teammates are counting on him. chanting in his mind that it wouldn’t matter if you were out there or not.

although a very tiny voice, had called out this lie.

it had already been 30 minutes in the game when you had finally arrived. a fragile thing held gently in your hands.

“john bell knocked out euane evermonde with a bludger!” you can hear the announcer scream, a disbelieving laughter echoing. “30 minutes into the game, it’s a blood bath out here folks!”

the crowds surrounding you in the stand were going wild with screams. the players zooming back and forth as they exchanged the quaffle. you looked up and saw james in the air, the wind tousling his already messy hair into knots. he was shouting orders to his team. eyes busy chasing players, all the while dodging bludgers too.

when he flew close enough to your area in the stands, you can see him subtly check out the crowd. your face warming against the cold at the thought of what you are about to do. his eyes quickly meeting yours and then physically stopping his slow glide in the air. as if he couldn’t believe you were there.

biting your cheek and slowly raising the large parchment, the written words charmed to glow and change every few seconds the words: i like you james potter! and go and win this!!! showing up interchangeably.

you watch him look at you dumbfounded until a dazzling grin erupted on his face once he read the words.

you see him spread his arms, and point at himself abashed, as if saying, me? you like me?

and you nodding exaggeratedly.

feeling the flurry of butterflies in your stomach watching him whoop and laugh twisting and looping on his broom. as if re-energized. you laugh too, his mirth too infectious. the others in the stand with you looks at the parchment in wonder and cheer along with you.

you can hear geoffrey shout profanities at james seeing him steady in the air not moving away form your sight, “not this again potter!”

it had taken you two weeks to finish this little project, the idea coming from a muggleborn friend that said they used to do posters when they watch games like these. that’s when you decided to do the same for james.

at first it was only supposed to be a simple parchment with words to cheer james on, for his first game as captain, against the hufflepuffs. but you decided to make it even more special and unforgettable.

granted, you weren’t all that creative in terms of crafts, so you enlisted a ravenclaw to help you put it all together. as much as you didn’t want to, you had to forgo watching the game so you can have some moment alone to get the poster started.

you were confident enough to know that the gryffindors will win and go straight to the finals. with hundreds of students coming to watch the game, you knew james wouldn’t notice your absence.

so the entire week you had committed your time into creating your first poster. trying desperately to hide your activities from james to surprise him. and when you had ran out of materials, you had gone to hogsmeade with charlie to guide you on what you should buy.

you knew james had caught on your weird behaviours. you were sure simple words from him and little pleas would get you to spill the beans but thankfully he had been distracted enough by something else that opened a way for you to leave.

now, here you were clutching the paper like a lifeline, the words you had written with so much care glowing through the fog. you had even drawn james on his broomstick along with his wild hair and glasses askew on his face. although charlie had helped draw it much nicer and life-like. each line moving and dancing across the paper to capture his attention.

with a new sense of motivation, james started to play the game the best he had ever played. zooming right above your area in the stand with a quaffle in his hand and a wink your way, he easily maneuvers over the other players and score.

with the slytherin keeper gone he had easily gathered up score after score.

and each time he did, he would stop a couple of feet in front of you and do a victory dance of some sort, eliciting a giggle and wide giddy smiles from you.

the crowd going crazier and crazier as james seemed like an unstoppable force in the field. eventually the brutal game ended with gryffindor as the winner by 530 points. breaking an all-time record.

gryffindors with some ravenclaws and hufflepuffs scatter to the field to celebrate the win. grabbing unto james, patting him on the shoulder, messing up his hair even more and cheering his name.

even with everyone around him, he managed to lock eyes with you again. quickly pushing other off him and running to you, a smile etched on his face.

you barely had anytime to prepare yourself as a sweaty, large, giddy man hurdled towards you. but james ever so gentle with you, grabbed your waist and lifted you up from the ground, twirling you around, looking at you with absolute glee. you can hear wolf whistles from the others but james barely acknowledges them.

he sets you down, hands still firmly on your side. the parchment now folded haphazardly, clutching it to your chest. wrinkling his nose in a low chuckle before looking down at the paper. “is this why you’ve yet to speak a word with me?”

you breathed, suddenly embarrassed. “i’ve been perfecting this for two weeks.” looking down on the paper leaning into him just a tad bit more, “i ran into some trouble with making the text stay on the parchment rather than fly away.” you muttered, cheeks aflame.

looking up at him through your lashes, having half a nerve to look bashful. “did you like it?”

“like it?” he scoffed, “i bloody loved it,” he grinned, forehead now leaning into yours.

you grin up at him, unaware of the still swirling questions he had for you. but for now holding each other like this, is enough answer for him.

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iitsarss · 1 month ago

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╰ㅤ₊ㅤ๋࣭ㅤreader x gr13f3r　 sorry　᠀

ꔛ word count: 684⠀╱⠀unestablished relationship + player reader 。

(¬_¬")⠀⠀⠀note,more on the end ⠀╱⠀tw: mention of sword + violence (MENTION!!)

hi guys my name is ars and today i came back with the milk!! i love this stupid dude sm im not joking i want him so bad...this is...angst...kinda....,,anyways sighh if i had this guy in front of me i would do things i cant say out loud(worship himgrrr) inspired by this song(idk how to put the little one sorryyyy :( )

The Venomshank in his hand was slipping as Griefer stared at you, a whirlwind of emotions crashing through him. How could he even think about doing this? Was he completely out of his mind? Maybe. Maybe his dad was right when he told him to stop everything just minutes before. Stop the chaos. Stop all of this.

Griefer couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. You looked absolutely stunning, even with a sword pointed at his throat. Strange, wasn’t it? How he could find beauty in this moment of tension and heartbreak.

Finally, the Venomshank clattered to the floor, the sound hollow as it echoed in the room, just as the tears started to form in his eyes. He was a jerk, wasn’t he? He had to be. The look in your eyes—it was different now. The first time he saw you, there was something there. Strength, maybe? Bravery? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it back then. But now? Now your eyes were filled with pity, with sadness. And it killed him inside.

Maybe it was because those butterflies he felt in his stomach the first time he laid eyes on you weren’t just in his head. He had tried to tell himself it was the voices whispering in his mind, telling him to destroy everything—to destroy you. Break your bones, break your spirit, break you entirely. But could he? He didn’t think he could. No, not anymore. Not with these unfamiliar emotions flooding through him. His sword lay forgotten on the ground, and soon enough, he was on his knees too, crumbling in front of you, lost in the depth of your eyes. He sobbed, and it was pathetic—he felt pathetic.

Still, he crawled toward you, his movements slow, almost hesitant. His trembling hands reached out, grabbing hold of your clothes like a lifeline. His fingers clutched the fabric, his tears soaking through as he began to cry even harder.

"I’M S0RR7… I’M S0RR7…"

Griefer’s voice broke as he repeated the words over and over like a broken record. He wanted to apologize for everything he had done, for all the pain he caused. You deserved that much. His tears soaked into your clothes, and he didn’t even notice when you slowly got down on your knees and wrapped your arms around him.

He cried harder, burying his face in your neck, his hands still clutching at you as if he were afraid you’d disappear.

"I'M S0RR7… F0R EVE7YTH1NG… I’M S0RR7, I’M S0RR7…"

But something in him began to calm down as your hands moved through his hair, gently stroking it, soothing him. You whispered that it was alright, and though he wasn’t sure if he could believe it, with you telling him so gently, he started to think—maybe it really was. His heart felt strange, warm in a way that was foreign to him.

When you gently pulled back to look at him, he tried to hide his face in embarrassment, but you wouldn’t let him. You took his cheeks in your hands and gazed into his eyes. And just like that, the pity he feared seeing wasn’t there. Instead, it was something warm, something tender that he didn’t fully understand.

…

When it was all over—after so much crying from both him and his dad—you were preparing to leave, taking the Venomshank with you. Griefer watched you as you moved toward the door, your back to him. He wasn’t sure why, but something inside him panicked at the thought of you walking away.

Summoning the last bit of courage he had, he moved toward you and gently took your hand. When you turned to face him, the sunlight spilling in through the window made you look almost ethereal, more radiant than ever in his eyes.

"S0RR7," he whispered one more time, his voice soft but sincere.

You comforted him again, offering a few more words of reassurance. He stood there, staring at you as if you were the light itself, realizing that no matter how bright the sun was, it couldn’t compare to the way you made him feel.

kisses him anyways!! uh this is shit tbh but yeah i love him a lot

#block tales #blocktales x reader #x reader #roblox #griefer #griefer roblox #griefer x reader #griefer blocktales #block tales griefer #mayor thaniyel #venomshank #venomshank blocktales #i want to kiss him #and tell him everything is okay #im not sane #⟡　　ars' writings　𓈒　 𓉸 #Spotify

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comet-forgot-you · 1 year ago

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handprints

river x fem!reader

summary: you cant let river walk home in the rain :/

warnings: 18+ pls. smut lol. car sex, strap-on use (river receiving), river gets called mamas, bottom!river, smoking, idk if theres more.

a/n: sorry for not posting in forever, i forgot who i was. all souls came out and i cant find any river fics so here i am. once again written in an hour, sorry. do not repost for any reason.

you stood in an empty alleyway, back pressed against a cold brick wall as you stared at the door you had gotten used to watching river come out of. you dig around in your pocket, searching for the pack of cigarettes you had just bought, before pulling them out. you open the case, picking one out and stuffing the box back in your pocket and lighting it.

as you take your first inhale, a metal door slams open. you turn your attention to the girl you had been waiting for, her focus solely on the stack of cash she had just received. you take the cigarette from your lips and exhale.

“river,” you call out. she turns her attention to you, fighting a smile. she stuffs the money into her pocket and walks over to you.

“y/n,” she mumbles, taking the cigarette from your fingers. she places it between her lips. “what are your doing here?”

you smile, looking away from her for a split second before returning your gaze to her. “had to make sure a pretty girl i know didnt walk home in the rain,” you tease. she rolls her eyes, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“ahh, my knight in shining armor,” she pokes back. you let out a laugh.

“right this way, princess,” you fake a curtsey before offering your hand for her to take. she smiles, slapping your hand away.

“you’re so stupid,” she says. she drops the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before following you to your car.

“fuck,” she moans out, head falling back in pleasure. she presses her hand against your backseat window for some sort of stability as you fuck up into her.

you and river both knew this was going to happen. it was never just taking her home for either of you. not when you couldnt keep your thoughts from drifting to her, especially while you were on duty, and definitely not when you became the second person she looked forward to seeing after every shift.

you sneak your hand up her sweater, palming a tit over her shirt. river lets out a shaky breath, holding onto the headrest like her life depended on it.

your free hand moves from her thigh to thumb at her clit and river cant help the moan that escapes her lips. you roll her clothes nipple between your fingers, thrusting up into her like her high was the only thing that mattered to you. in this moment, it felt like it was.

“taking my strap so well, mamas. you gonna cum all over it? hmm?” you mumble out, rubbing her clit in tight circles.

“fuck, yes. yes i-“ a moan cuts her sentence short as your strap hits a spot inside of her that makes her see stars. “oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” she mutters it out like a prayer. “m’ gonna cum, y/n. okay? gonna cum on..” a whine leaves her throat as your cold fingers make their way under her shirt to pinch at her nipples. “your strap,” she mumbles.

you smile at her broken sentences. “go on, then.” you pull her hips down, the entire length of the strap nestled in her cunt, your fingers working wonders on her nipples and clit, she couldnt stop the orgasm that washes over her even if she tried go. she grinds against the strap, doing her best to ride out her high.

she mumbles incoherent words, her hand falling from your fogged up window to hold herself up by your shoulder.

“did so good, mamas. one more?”

a/n: the way i view/perceive characters comes from the way other ppl see them, so if yall dont think this is what she seems like, im sorry 💀💀

#mikey madison #all souls #all souls movie #river x reader #mikey madison x reader #river #river all souls #wlw smut #smut #what else am i supposed to tag with this #still dont know how to tag

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lennadanvers · 8 months ago

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Hi! I love everything youve written with my entire fucking heart like you dont understand there hasnt been a single thing of yours that I havent liked! Anyways, I was wondering if you could write some more Simon Riley? You write him so well it isnt even funny. If you cant, no worries! I think youre amazing!!!!

Hi! Thanks a lot for the praise, it means a lot (you don't even know how much, I'm pretty new to fanfic writing and posting stuff is still kinda terrifying, but when people say things like this it warms my heart). Anyway, I had this sitting in my drafts for way too long, and found the energy to finish it today. Sorry for the delay, I hope you still enjoy it.

Thanks for your patience <3

Every coin has two faces

Ghost doesn’t like to think about himself.

Maybe the mask is an effort to conceal his own face when he walks past a mirror, rather than to guard his identity. Maybe it has a double purpose. Maybe it’s just one: to hide. Whatever the case, Simon Riley avoided thinking about himself. Of how he looked. How he sounded. Or moved-

Until he had met you.

Fresh blood. As in a new recruit and as in that you were bleeding the first time he saw you. Despite the bloody nose, there was something there. A burn in your eyes. The sharp smile you threw to the recruit laying at your feet. To the one responsible for your pain. Sparring wasn’t supposed to be this dirty, but they had crossed the line. And you had slaughtered it in response. A fucking demon; you had become violence on the flesh and unleashed something nasty upon them.

Once you had won the fight -not fair and square, but they had asked for it-, you stopped. Put the leash on whatever it was that took over you, and stepped back, hand to your bloody face.

Simon smelled something rotten.

For the untrained nose, it wasn’t noticeable. Most people would have looked at you and seen a surprisingly skilled recruit, that’s it. But he saw himself. Broken recognizes broken, he supposes. The anger ready to jump out. The control; years of training that someone as young as you would only have if they started before even learning to talk.

That’s what it was, wasn’t it? You were another survivor. Another messed up past. Another broken child who grew into a desperate, cold monster.

Ghost saw himself in you.

It went downhill from there. Simon Riley knew it was a bad idea, he was a bad idea. But you were so good. Scary good. Too damn close to perfect for him to be at ease. He kept an eye on you. From afar. Very, very far. From a second-floor window. From his elevated position as a sniper in the field. From a couple dozens of yards in the training area. Through Soap’s gossip.

Simon Riley had never been so close to liking himself. You were fast, methodic, smart and precise. You were strong, witty, sarcastic and poisonous. He was interested, involved, captivated and weirdly vulnerable.

It haunted Ghost how much of himself he saw in you. It just made the few contrasts (sparkly smile, short body, soft curves) feel sweeter. Just made him want to be closer. If you were so… So beautiful, so elegant, deadly, appealing, valuable… Maybe he was, too. Maybe it happened to you too. Maybe, when you looked at him, you saw yourself. Maybe you understood.

That’s why the way you looked at him it chipped his heart a little.

He had never considered himself particularly handsome. Just a man. But this man had a good body -strong, healthy, taller than most. He was good at his job- effective, respected, he had earned his position. He knew not to get into other people’s business, and he had a decent sense of humor. Some women had even complimented his accent- apparently his voice was quite attractive. The few that had seen his face hadn’t complained, either.

Obviously, he didn’t expect everyone to be interested in him. Simon knew the mask weirded some people out. But it wasn’t the mask, was it?

It was him.

You looked at him like he was the president of the welcoming committee of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Like you’d shoot him if he took a step too close (he never stood within less than six meters from your personal space, mind you). Whenever he entered the room, you stabbed him with your side eye. If Ghost had to walk past you in the hallway, you’d stick to the wall like a fucking tree frog, for God’s sake. And he hadn’t even talked to you directly.

Simon hadn’t been able to wrap his head around it.

Until now, that is. After you had been chosen to go with the team to a mission. One that was supposed to be easy. In and out. No more than a couple hours. No finding a place to stay the night. No ending up divided in a couple different locations. And definitely no spending the night hiding with you.

Alone.

There had been bullets flying everywhere. He was calm, fast. You knew better than to give him dirty looks when he dragged you to safety. But you were looking at him now. And he was terrified.

All this time, the scarred, broken kid inside him had recognized the scared, lost kid inside you. Ghost had seen himself in you.

But you had seen someone else in him.

His broad figure and trained muscles weren’t attractive, were they? They were menacing. His stealth, aim and training weren’t worthy of admiration, but fear. The hard-earned respect, the power, was nothing but a weapon, a strategic position from which to attack. Your dirty looks were the hate you had spent years nursing. God, the way you pressed against the wall in the hallways- your most basic instincts keeping you away from the predator.

Simon is a threat to you.

And you’re looking at him as if he was his father.

Ghost stares back at you from across the abandoned building you’re going to have to spend the whole night in. He’s going to be sick- you look sick. Simon knows how you feel. Being trapped in a house with a man who can beat you into a bloody pulp. Someone bigger, stronger and more powerful. Big body, hard knuckles and labored breath. Next to him, you’re so small. You’re weaker, have less experience and power over him. And you can’t leave: it would be worse. You’re trapped with him.

Alone.

It kills him, the way you step away from his body as soon as you can. How you don’t look him in the eyes, following his hands instead. He feels disgusting.

Simon takes a deep breath and forces his voice to sound calm- he’s not- and quiet.

“You alright? No wounds?”

He knows both answers: no and no. But he has to ask. Has to let you know he cares. He’s on your side. Here to take care of you. Not to hurt.

You shake your head.

“Good. Gonna stay ‘ere tonight. The others can’t be far. Contact Price to let ‘im know our position.”

A nod. He’s used to giving orders, but right now his voice sounded harsher than he would have liked to hear. Ghost winces.

“Thank you.”

It’s the surprise in your eyes that ignites his hope. He’s not an asshole. Maybe.

You don’t trust him, either way. After you eat- pressed against the wall, knees between you and him-, it’s time to prepare for the night. Simon knows how he’d feel if he was in your place. He’s more than sure you’re not happy sleeping in the same room as the big, creepy guy with military equipment who reminds you of a nightmare.

He takes off the gloves first. Someone told him he has nice hands, once. They’re brutal. But human. The mask is next. Usually- always- it stays on during missions, even if they last days. He can make an exception. His naked hand undresses the chin, the mouth, the nose- the scars. Simon bats his short eyelashes, as if the dim light of the sun setting was bothering him- he wants to show you he’s weak. He can be.

You stare at him from the other side of the room, still, a deer in headlights. Simon tucks the mask and his gloves into one of his pockets. Decides he’s keeping the bulletproof vest. But he can spare his gun. And the sniper rifle. And his knives- except for the one hidden inside his pants: he’s not undressing in front of your terrified eyes, and at least he has something to defend himself with, in case the enemy finds you. Everything else goes into a pile on the floor. He then steals a glance at you.

You’re looking at him unsure. He’s not only your superior, but a ruthless soldier. This is not the protocol. In fact, he’s being quite stupid by choosing to spend the night disarmed.

Simon shrugs. He’s not going to explain himself to you.

“’s uncomfortable to sleep with all that metal. ‘m a fucking bell.”

You give him another nod. It’s weird, how much you talk around other people. You’re usually loud, even your laugh. You laugh with other people. He’s seen you laugh at Soap’s jokes. He’s heard you teasing him about his accent.

Or, rather than that, the weird thing is how quiet you are next to him.

Ghost likes his recruits obedient and focused. Makes it easier to give orders if people have a cool head and are ready to follow. But you’re not. You’re ready to fight, flight or freeze, and you don’t trust him. You don’t trust he’ll keep you alive and well. Because you’re too busy making sure he can’t hurt you.

Except he can. He could. If he wanted. He doesn’t. For the life of him, he does not want to hurt you. Simon himself is terrified of the possibility.

Ghost knows it’s an absurd idea. He has no reason to. He is your superior, and you’re together in this. You’re supposed to watch each other’s backs. To be a team.

But right now, all you are is terrified.

And he doesn’t know how to make it stop. So he resorts to giving you choices.

“Wan’ the first watch?”

Say no, and he’ll make sure not even a cockroach crosses that door. You’ll be safer than in base.

You nod.

He bares his neck. Ghost has seen your teeth, and they’re more than enough to cause serious damage. Go on, he’s telling you, make sure I can’t fight back. Simon doesn’t say it, of course. Instead, he lays on the cold floor, away from the door and from you. Look, he’s out of the way. You can run, if you want to. You can wait until he’s asleep, grab his weapons and disappear. You can hide somewhere else until the sun rises. He just knows you’re good at hiding. He turns his back to you. There, it is yours to stab. If he ever gave you any reason to feel like this about him, by all means, go on. End his misery. But, most importantly, end yours. Take your pick, he left you an arsenal. He’s dying a death by his own weapons either way.

The shadow your body casts on the wall stays still a long time. It’s been well after an hour since he slowed his breathing down when you finally move into a comfortable position. The ruffling of your clothes and the little sigh you let out make him feel a little less cold. A little less like a monster.

When the sun wakes him up the next morning, you’re still sleeping. Ghost should reprimand you severely; should have woken him up, should have made sure someone was watching the door. But he can’t find it in him to do it, to betray this shadow of trust.

So Simon takes a mental picture of your relaxed face- he’s never seen it so close, it’s a sight worth risking his life for- and turns around. He pretends to sleep until you wake up and start making noise.

I hope you liked it, thanks again for the ask <3

If you (or anyone) have an idea/request/suggestion, I'll be happy to read them. It may take some time, but I promise I'll do my best. Also, I'm sorry if I made any mistakes, English is not my first language and today my brain was particularly confused. Just let me know and I'll fix it.

Masterlist here

#fanfiction #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #lennadanvers #len answers #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader

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bridgyrose · 8 months ago

Note

Em ends up cast down like Lucifer and gets adopted by the hotel gang.

(Going for a little shorter on this one)

“Why cant the sinners be redeemed?” Emily asked angrily at Sera, practically stomping her foot on the ground. “No one here knows how to get into heaven and one of them did! So why cant we help the rest-”

“Its not our place!” Sera pinched the bridge of her nose. “We are supposed to keep the balance of Heaven and Hell.”

“And we’re supposed to do this by exterminating the sinners?”

“We have to prevent an uprising!”

Emily growled as she took another step forward. “They arent going to rise against us! Charlie wants to help those that want to do better? Why cant you see that?”

“Because once you’re a sinner, you cant change.”

Emily stopped for a moment as she watched Sera start to change and energy start to form around her. A jolt of electricity ran through her as she dropped to her knees, looking up at Sera. “W-what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, Emily, but I cant have you asking questions like this any further.” Sera looked away as she opened a portal under her sister. “You have to leave now.”

“Sera!” Emily felt herself thrown down from heaven, watching as it grew further away. Try all her might, she couldnt stop her descent or make her way back to heaven, feeling her powers fade for a moment as she descended into hell. Then, she felt herself slam into the ground, wincing as she stared up at the sky above her. Her heart felt broken as a few tears ran down her cheeks, feeling alone now that she was cast away.

Emily picked herself up, catching the sight of black feathers out of the corner of her eye. Her heart nearly stopped when she didnt see her normal white feathers, quickly turning herself to see her wings, carefully feeling them as if she didnt recognize them. Then, she caught her reflection in a nearby window. Her eyes werent as bright of a blue as they had been, the tear-like markings almost the same color as her skin, and her hair darkened to a gray, losing the white that it’d been.

She finally pulled away from her reflection and started to make her way down the street, picking up into a sprint as she looked for anyone that could help her. Charlie or Vaggie or even Lucifer… all she had to do was get to the hotel and then she would have someone that would believe her. Emily came to a stop as she nearly ran into Vaggie, falling onto her and hugging at her arm.

“Get off-” Vaggie paused as she looked at Emily, anger turning into concern. “Emily?! What are you doing here?”

“I-I need… I need help,” Emily practically stuttered out as a few tears escaped her. “I… I cant go back.”

Vaggie sighed and looked towards the hotel. “Come with me and…. Charlie and I will… we’ll… we’ll find a way to help you.”

Emily nodded and let go of Vaggie for a moment, wiping a few tears away from her now reddened eyes as she gave a smile to her as she followed to the hotel. “Thank you, I… I owe you.”

#hazbin hotel #Vaggie #emily hazbin hotel #sera hazbin hotel #drabbles #angsty drabbles #fallen emily au #fallen emily

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spacedlexi · 4 months ago

Note

Kenny and Violet anon here YES.

Violet is upset because someone she defended against her found family of 8 years let her get taken by brainwashing adults for 2 seconds and everyone flips their lid.

But Kenny refuses to stop a train, and gets into a whole fight with Lee over it (AND REFUSES TO HELP YOU FIND A LOST LITTLE GIRL WHILE YOU’RE FIGHTING OFF AN INFECTION, where as Violet always defends you in Episode 1 regardless of whether you ignored and/or antagonized her or not), and gets mad at an 11 year old for not being able to handle helping someone in labor by herself and everybody’s like “Nah it’s okay, his family died years ago so he gets to do whatever he wants.” as if Violet didn’t witness one of the only consistent family members in her life die in front of her 💀

There’s so many comparisons I could make and one day I’ll make a Venn Diagram about all of their similarities but for now I’m glad someone pointed this out.

there are some things kenny does that have No excuse (like refusing to help bitten lee look for missing clem all because hes mad you didnt side with him enough. leaving lee to singlehandedly save himself in the pharmacy because he got scared. threatening to slap clem for blaming herself for lees death. off the top of my head). but his behavior on the train is annoying yet understandable. he doesnt want to admit his son is dying and he feels like duck dying in the first place is his fault for not saving shawn. you can convince him to stop without things getting physical

the Problem comes in when people can understand and sympathize with kennys annoying/shitty actions, but when it comes to violet (who has the same "my family is dead and its made me bitter and closed off" backstory (and her whole arc is about learning to love and care again)), suddenly all understanding goes out the window. even tho shes not even a FRACTION as annoying and shitty as kenny can get 😭😭

violet is mean to clem for the One scene where youre introduced to her (ignoring your first moment with her in the courtyard where shes smiling at clem so you already know her shitty attitude later is a lie. louis even defends her. wingman lol. and depending on what you say in response to her you can Immediately see the regret on her face LOL). but before the scene even Ends shes complimenting clem and clem loves it. then youre forced to talk to her and tenn about the twins, you have a nice card game where you can joke around with her, then she shows up at the dorm and they have a nice heart to heart about how theyre BOTH struggling with the loss of people theyve loved, and they can sympathize about both being harsher than they intend (THEY GET EACH OTHER CANONICALLY)

and vi not being "a people person" is a huge part of her arc?? she doesnt like that shes like this 😭 but shes also better with people than she gives herself credit for and its why she makes a good leader. (and even if you pick the "came off strong" option clem is OBVIOUSLY teasing about it but vi cant tell and gets defensive ("its not like im trying to be bffs or whatever. sorry" is so "you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" of her)

and then after this shes never mean to clem again?? (unless you antagonize her but even then its mostly just about her standing her ground and not taking shit she doesnt deserve. which is fair). shes only mean to brody while fishing (and shes mean to brody because deep down she blames HERSELF) and the whole POINT of that scene is to try and mend their broken relationship which immediately makes vi a happier/nicer person if you do (also interesting how louis doesnt get any shit for His behavior while hunting 🤨 no hes just cool and fun). violet also apologizes for being "weird" in the dorms the previous night as well (bby girl why are you afraid that everything you do is weird 😭 she says that word a lot)

violet will Always have clems back (in EP1 and 2!!) No Matter What you do or say to her. i think people take her loyalty for granted. so if you dont save her in EP2 and expect to continue to have her unwavering loyalty in EP3? thats a You problem. she is Fucked Up mentally on that boat by lilly and her not-exactly-ex, and then gets caught in the explosion she didnt want anything to do with. AND THEN SHE APOLOGIZES because she recognizes she was WRONG

(not her literally trying to make a joke about it to ease the tension 😭 people dont give her credit for also having a sense of humor. like louis is the only one who cracks jokes around here) but again when it comes to kenny his actions are understandable and defendable even without an apology 🙄 i literally side with kenny on Everything except the larry thing and if you dont make the right dialogue choice with him? he will not help you look for clem. because of larry 😐 i killed your son for you bro and then took care of his walker doppelganger so you didnt have to. and this isnt even touching his behavior in S2. and yet despite everything he does hes still one of the most beloved characters in the fandom 🤨

i just have to remind myself sometimes that all vi options were made 53-61% and the vi haters are a loud minority. her always being above 50% is so interesting to me because i love when choices are split perfectly 50/50. but the way the fandom talks about her (and the women in general) you wouldnt think shes technically the more popular option (and i Hate playing the popularity card its so annoying, but im only doing it bc people also say shit like "maybe if vi wasnt so mean more people would pick her" they DO pick her!!! you just got mad she was mean for 5 seconds, never payed attention to her again, and used her determinate reaction on the boat as justification for not liking her 😑) (also ignores how mean louis gets in EP2 regardless of choice?? but like kenny His actions are defendable and sympathetic and hers arent 🙄)

#again just in case people cant tell I LIKE ALL OF THEM they are all interesting characters!!! but some of you only give grace to the men #vi i will defend you until i die because Someone has to #why do people hate and even want to kill the women in this game so bad 😭 its so weird #im literally just asking yall to Not hate her so vehemently when you LOVE male characters who do the same or much worse #its just weird all the excuses that exist for the men but when its a woman? shes just a bitch. why do the men get to be bitches 😐#the game is Intentionally very even between vi and louis' reactions but for some reason hes defendable/sympathetic and shes not #someone pretty much ended up proving my point on my last ask about this without even realizing it 💀#but i didnt even know where to begin. so i was so glad to get this ask almost immediately after hdskfjkd #also the numbers im using are TFS numbers not DE numbers. ive noticed the DE numbers are fandom skewed idek what they are for S4 #i dont think i have much more to say about this and im afraid the men only defenders are gonna start coming out of the walls #i love you fucked up women of twdg :)#if anyone tries to defend the male characters on this post im gonna lose it. they dont need your help!!!#replies with lexi #incognito #twdg

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aquanova99 · 11 months ago

Text

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕞

Azriel x OC

Part 3

Prev <<

Next >>

➽───────────────❥

Well, that was a dumb idea. Why? Why did she feel the need to do that? Callista’s brows furrowed as her body curled into itself. She hadn’t even asked the young woman if she could use her magic on her. She couldn’t stop looking at her eyes. Sad at the suggestion of flight, but no tears at the long since acceptance of her position, her fate. Callista had to remind herself that she didn’t know these people, she had to remember Azriel’s warnings. If they somehow found her home, would they try and exploit everyone’s gifts? Fight these wars everyone seems on edge about? Part of her was worried it was a dream, and when she woke up she would be back in Luminia, part of her was hopeful she didn’t put everyone at risk by leaving. The light shining through one of the windows caused her eyes to reflectively squeeze even tighter. She forced herself to breathe before trying to open them.

The second he heard her move Azriel was the side of the bed. His wings blocked out the light and her eyes fluttered open. “How long?”

“Why would you do that?” Azriel was suddenly unable to keep the composure he’d been holding in for the past day and a half. “How could you do that? I had no idea what was happening. Your wings—”

“Are fine now.” She sat up and extended them to show the colors back and vibrant as usual, “Now, how long was I out?”

Azriels lips formed a tight line, he forced himself to speak as calmly as he could through clenched teeth, “….About 36 hours.”

“Objectively… that isn’t too bad. I’ve had worse.” She stretched and yawned, still coming to terms about her location, “How’s Emerie?”

“How are you?? How did you do that? Why did you—”

“Fall?” Azriel nodded, “I can heal almost anything but depending on the severity of something it takes a bit of energy out of me. A broken bone…those are usually easily, because every bone is supposed to set in a certain way. But something like a wing, I had to connect the tendon that was snipped. It’s still there just severely damaged. Almost recreating it, then it requires more of me. I had to figure out a lot of things when that fire broke out… but I don’t know everything so a lot of healing depends on magic and what I want to achieve.”

She shrugged as if putting her life in danger was no big deal to her. “It sounds like it could kill you.”

“I guess it could. I just haven’t had to use it in awhile.” Azriels eyes seemed to shine with a fury, she couldn’t quite understand. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Can you heal yourself?” At this point everything was now an interrogation. He would not risk her risking her life again. A protectiveness he had never felt before took over his entire being. He had been crouched next to the bed staring slightly up at Callista as she sat up and answered every question. For a brief moment, he wondered if was pushing her, possibly hindering any healing she was supposed to undergo. His worry won over any possible hesitation. Callista placed her hand on his face ever so gently. Her scars like the roots of an old tree spread down her arms

“I’m fine. Truly.” She looks at the scars trailing down her arm and grimaces at the sight of them. She tries to pull her hand back but fails. Azriel’s hand holds hers in place, she’s been trying to avoid it, but she cant ignore the fury in his eyes.

“You will not do that again.”

…

“I’m serious Callista. That kind of ability could put you in serious danger. Promise me you wont do it again.”

So he wasn’t angry at her. He did have a point. She was being careless. She didn’t know these people, if one of them were put in a difficult situation its hard to say what information they would divulge. Worse, what if they didn’t break? How far would these people go? Would they put their lives on the line to protect a secret that had no need to be shared? Stupid. Her eyes stung as she thought about the danger she put everyone in. She could only nod at Azriel’s request. Shame coursed through her veins.

Azriel softened, he gently brought her hand down to her lap and clasped his other hand around it, “I’m sorry.”

“Why would you be sorry? It was wrong of me to do something like that without even asking. You’re right. I was being selfish. My people, you all…if something happened to you—”

“Me?” Azriel was shocked. He’d been certain he had frightened her by yelling. He had been worried but it was no excuse. Not after what she had done for Emerie. After what she may have risked just coming back with him. He sat next to her, still worried about possibly pushing her away. He wondered if he would ever get over that, still he was intrigued. Why would she be worried about him?

“Couldn’t you get into trouble? For hiding what I can do?”

“I suppose. Being able to avoid detection helps.”

“And your friends?” This got his attention, was she worried they would break? “if they got into trouble I would never forgive myself. And I doubt you would either…”

“You think I would blame you if something happen—”

“I think you would try not to. But emotions are not logical. I don’t suppose your high lord could erase memories.” She laughs regardless of how much she wishes it were so easy.

“He can actually. But none of us would accept that.” Azriel shrugs

“It could keep you safe.”

“…No.”

“No?”

“My dear, our court is hardly in anyone’s good graces. Your abilities wouldn’t be the first thing they would think to torture out of us.” He could immediately see the effect his words had on him. All he was doing was confirming her worst fears. “We’ll be fine, Callista.”

She turned to face him, trying to read his usual unreadable face, hopeful she would be able to tell if he was telling the truth. When she had first met him his face, his body both mentally and physically seemed pained. She now knew what had been on his mind when he pushed his body past exhaustion, but since that first day he’s seemed wary to give any emotion away on his face. Up until now, she had assumed he could care less one way or another about helping her out. Maybe coming back only to prove to himself he could do it, to do something no one had done before. But he seemed genuinely concerned, worried about her own safety over his own.

She could only nod, “How is she?”

“Emerie? She’s terrified. Thinks it’s a spell that will wear off, so she been waiting for you to get better. Make sure she doesn’t get her hopes up. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Everyone was waiting for them in the sitting room. Waiting to ask questions. “Please, sit.” Nesta gestured to a spot next to her, “How are you feeling?”

“Still regaining my energy, it seems. But fine. What would you like to know? Or should I start?”

“Please, go ahead. Better we don’t bombard you with endless questions.” Nesta continued

“I’ve been dealing with this kind of magic for a while. It’s permanent. It always takes some amount of energy but the bigger the issue the more it takes. I cannot heal something from nothing, so if you were to get your wings cut off I wouldn’t be able to make them grow back. Did I miss anything?” She ignores Emerie taking a deep breath

Cassian glances at Azriel who just shrugs. Emerie’s eyes begin to water. Gwyn rubs her back, “We told you.”

“Thank you…” She says through broken sobs.

“Actually, I apologize. I shouldn’t have made an assumption, even then I could have warned you. But I am glad it worked o—” Emery tackled her in a hug and kissed her cheek. Azriel stiffened and forced himself to remember Emerie was not a threat.

“Thank you.” She runs back to grab Nesta and Gwyn. They embrace her and Nesta squeezes Callistas shoulder before running off with her two sisters. All overjoyed to see Emery regain something they all knew had broken something deep inside her long ago. As far as Nesta was concerned, she was indebted to the newcomer.

“Take care of her Az!” Nesta waves as the girls run out the door. Azriel still stunned and conflicted at Emerie’s affection. Cassian tried to stifle the laugh building in his chest.

“Where are you planning on starting?” He asked his friend

“Maybe Dawn, or Summer Court?” Azriel offered

“I want to see where you’re from.” Callista hurried to explain herself as both men froze, “This training camp—it would be interesting to learn a new skill.”

“No.” Azriel couldn’t even begin to fathom her stepping foot there. Too dangerous. He was sure his kind would immediately flock to her. Try and get away with doing some of the worst things imaginable.

“Did you not say my people were unprepared for a fight? I should learn some techniques to take back.”

“Cassian could train you here. Emerie or Nesta could train you here. That camp is the worst part of Prythian.” The things they would do to you…he thought to himself. Callista shrugged in acceptance.

“End with Dawn.” Cassian interjected, “Get spring and fall out of the way. Don’t stick around too long.”

“You both worry too much. But I do want to thank you again for offering up your home.”

“We’ve heard you did the same.” Cassian smiled at Callista then turned serious, “You’re going to need to speak to Rhys soon enough. He is going to want to know how far your gift extends.”

A warning, Callista decided. She could feel Azriels eyes burning a hole in the back of her head. She decides to leave before starting another fracture between his friends, regardless of her opinion of them, they were still all Azriel knew. She nodded at Cassian, fluttering her wings just enough to reach his height and deliver a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you. I’m sure we will return by the days end.”

She ran back the second her feet touched the ground. Grabbing Azriels hand and squeezing it to let him know she was good to go. It only seemed to break his train of thought but he couldn’t help but smile as she beamed at him, he slightly nodded, “Ready?”

➽───────────────❥

She closed her eyes and squeezed his hand again. Her skin grew cold as the shadows enveloped her again. She wished she could see how it worked, but she trusted Azriel and didn’t dare break any trust in her. Before she could open her eyes again, she was overwhelmed with the floral perfumes surrounding her. She opened her eyes before Azriel needed to alert her that it was safe. Azriel had chosen a place most likely to be safe but they would not be able to stay here for long, relations with Tamlin and even the spring court were as tense as ever. He didn’t need to give Rhys another reason to worry further.

“What do you think?”

“Its beautiful…If I had your gift I would never stop looking for somewhere new to explore. Is that how you found this place?” She looked back at him, ready to inquire about this clearly secluded area. Flowers she could only imagine and dream of surrounded her, climbing up the trees. Whatever small lake the had arrived at seem clear and bottomless as it glimmered with some kind of magic. Any questions she had would have to wait, she looked at Azriel’s all too serious face. His posture was too similar to the way he seemed at dinner the first day she’d arrived. “Azriel?”

“What? Nothing. Everythings fine.”

“Well that’s good, but it isn’t what I asked.”

“I’m sorry. I must have been distracted. What?”

“I take it we cant stay here long?”

“Unfortunately, not. We aren’t exactly amicable with the spring court.”

“Why not?”

Azriel hesitates. Its not really his story to tell, besides it could get her in trouble if she meets the wrong people. Before he can say anything everything goes silent and his head snaps towards the direction he knows his friend will winnow from. He gets in front of Callista throwing her behind him. Rhys walks out unconcerned.

“Really?”

“What are you doing here?” Azriel spat out

“Besides the fact you shouldn’t risk being in here, I came to speak to your…friend.” He faces her with an expression made of stone, “I found what you came here for.”

Before Azriel could decode what he was talking about Callista stepped out from behind him, “You really must want me gone. Very well. Show me.”

“I assume I’ll see you back in the Night court then? Unless of course, you’d rather come with me?” He smirked, Azriel had never been so ready to fight someone he’d once considered one of his only friends. He felt his arm lift as Callista linked her arms with his.

“No. I’ll pass, thank you.”

Rhysand nods and disappears. Azriel tries not to let the disappointment show on his face. Why hadn’t he helped him before, those were months wasted when he could have been with…or rather could have helped Callista. He knew it was selfish, but he wasn’t ready for her to go. Since his time under the mountain Azriel knew the things Rhysand went through and was forced to comply with were unimaginable. So much so that any shift in his plans drove him crazy. Even more so now that Nyx was around. Everything had to go according to plan, if it didn’t it brought out a side he wasn’t sure he liked. No matter how much he empathized.

“You shouldn’t hold so much resentment for him. As poor as his judgement towards me may be, its clear he cares about you. He is trying to keep those he holds dear close.”

“So its alright he treats you this way?” Azriel shakes his head, “No. He should trust my judgement. I’ve never failed him, theres no reason—” Azriel is silenced by the feeling of her lips, ever light as a feather, graze his cheeks.

“I suppose you’ll have to show me around some other time. Come. We shouldn’t keep your brother waiting,”

Azriel blinks as he tries to regain his train of thought. He ends up only nodding and squeezing her hand tight and she smiles before closing her eyes.

➽───────────────❥

Azriel tries to not be instantly agitated at the sight of Rhysand sitting with his arms behind his head. As if there was nothing amiss. As if he couldn’t have given you this information months ago. He gestures to a book that looked as if it would crumble if it wasn’t handled properly. Callista warily approaches the ancient script. Azriel finally seems to notice that his hand was still intertwined with hers when she finally lets go to more carefully examine what Rhysand has offered her. He hates that he’s so bothered by the ease of which she let go. Has he always been so possessive over his friends? No, never like this. Never like her. She had ingrained herself into him, became a part of him he was terrified would disappear. That was the problem. It was difeerent this time. He could accept that he wasn’t enough for the other, hell he certainly would never be enough for her, but he couldn’t let her go. Not now. A small rational part of his brain told him to go slow. Be wary. He had only known her for a matter of days. Was that all it took to get him to not look back? Had he only latched onto her because he was desperate to have someone? Had he simply fallen for someone no one had any agency over? Was he willing to leave the people he had known his entire life for her? What if she rejected him as well? What would he do then?

Azriel cant make sense of the markings on the page but Callista studies every one intently. As he begins to worry she turns to face him, feeling a kind of shift with shadows that encircle him. The two make eye contact only for a second before Azriel looks away, pain etched deep withing his eyes. Rhysand shifts in his seat and Azriel straightens up, he tells himself to get himself together. Whats one more rejection anyway?

“Find what you’re looking for?” Rhysand asks

“I—I don’t know.”

“Only one way to find out.” He shrugs

“I suppose you’re right… Azriel?” He can only dread whats coming, “You’ll have to forgive me. You’ll have to show me around another time.”

“Whenever you wish.” He smiles and bows his head, “Shall we head back?”

“I will be taking her Az. You’ve done enough traveling?”

“Really?” Callista interjects before Azriel can protest, “I’m surprised you’d be willing to leave your family for so long. And unprotected as well. I’m honored. Do you know where you’re going? Wouldn’t want you to be unable to make it back if the spell doesn’t work.”

“I—”

“Don’t be ridiculous Callista, Azriel can take you. Cant he Rhys?” Feyre steps in and sits on the high lord’s lap who can only take a deep breath and relent. He waves Azriel off, and he nods his head for Callista to follow. He wanted to talk to her before they left. She followed him all the way back to the house of wind.

“So…those markings…they’ll help?”

“Ancient runes, I’ve studied some from the books back home.”

“You remember everything?”

She pulls out her left hand, markings decorating her arm in gold. “If I can figure out how to pronounce everything correctly, I should be able to make it work. Hopefully, Tommin and the rest of the elders aren’t too mad to where they wont help.”

“I think with enough support they’ll whether they want things to change or not.”

“hm. Are you alright?”

“Why would I not be?” Azriel asked

“Well, you didn’t exactly need to bring me all the way here to have that conversation. What is it?”

“I—”

“Azriel?” She places her hand on his shoulder and every worry threatens to spill out

“What happens if this works?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will you explore what you can, with them? Or would you…”

“Come back?”

Azriel finally looks at her eyes, “Could you?”

“Would you want me to?” She smiles, Azriel shakes his head chuckling. What was happening? He had never had any issues with anyone. Not at Rita’s, not anywhere, even with Mor as painful as it was he had no difficulty flirting back. But here he was, tongue tied for seemingly the millionth time.

“I—” Azriel looks up and runs his hand through his hair sighing at how complicated this was all getting, “Of course I would.”

“Hmm. And would you want to come back here?” Because frankly you seem miserable, she though to herself. “Are you happy here?”

“I have a duty here.”

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question…” She tilts her head as she considers his words for a moment more, “Well, I suppose it does actually.”

His name on her lips unsettled him. No one called him by his full name around here. And she said with so much…kindness. Wait, he froze, what exactly did she he was letting her down. Did she mean when she said she understood, he himself didn’t understand what he wanted yet. What he wanted…

“Azriel…” He flinches at her touch, her fingers delicately trace her eyebrows, her hand gently rests on his face, “You really ought to stop worrying so much. If you want to talk you know I’m here. You are free to speak and ask whatever it is that’s worrying you.”

“Stay with me.” He finally says, grasping her hand and finally staring her in the eyes. Afraid to hear her answer but needing to get everything out, “I dont care where you want to go, but stay with me. I know you don’t know me. Not really but—”

Both hands now cup his face as she looks up. Her wings flutter ever so slightly and he feels her lips press against him once more, but the intention feels different. She purposely kisses him in the corner of his mouth, letting him decide whether or not he’d rather push it any further. She lingered for a few seconds, and then whispered, “You still owe me a tour if I remember correctly.”

She floats down, “I don’t plan on traveling alone anytime soon, what fun would that be?”

Azriel looks down at her smirk, her almost all knowing smirk. If she had any idea how he was entirely at her command. He would travel the ends of the universe for the smallest request. He was completely wrapped around her finger. He couldn’t deny it any longer. He needed her. Her company, her presence, her light. A balance to the darkness he seemed to carry around him constantly. She never pushed, and yet he felt like she was the only one that would understand. He grabs her face and kisses her as deeply as he can and hopes he can convey even a fraction of what he’s feeling. Its only when they both need to breath that they step back.

Azriel clears his throat, “Lets get going then, there so much I want you to see. And I can’t wait to get started.”

➽───────────────❥

She nods and grabs his hand. She closes her eyes and waits for the chill to pass. Every trip was exhilarating, literally breathtaking. She would never not be amazed by this ability, amazed and saddened. Calista wondered if he ever thought back to the times he had been scared of the darkness before it embraced, or if it ever still brought him a wave of sadness as he remembered exactly what brought this gift.

“This is wrong.” Azriels words force her eyes open

Callista immediately sees what he is referring to. The trees once green and lush looked dull. As if the life was being sucked out of them. And it was silent. Eerily silent. Callista felt her stomach harden.

“Where—”

Azriel shook his head, he is only whispering to himself but Callista wont accept what comes out of his mouth, “There’s only one?”

Callista refuses to believe it, she releases his hand and begins flitting to and from several different houses. She calls out names getting increasingly more panicked. Her home she once knew like the back of her hand seemed foreign to her now. Azriel could feel the pain in her voice but he was frozen, he caused this, he was sure of it. He should have never returned. No, that isn’t right, maybe he should have waited to hear the Elder’s concerns, pressed for more information. Likewise, Callista knew her absence had something to do with this.

“Azriel!!” She looked to him pleading, he seemed terrified, still he knew exactly what she was asking for, he point in a direction. This person would surely have some answers. Deeper in the woods, closer to the forest floor. Callista dashed off and Azriel snapped out of it enough to follow her. She breathed a sigh of relief when the elder who had protested when Azriel had first returned appeared. But Azriel noticed his aging immediately, Callista was so excited to see anyone she rushed and hugged him. The old man did not return the gesture. “Tommin.”

“So. You finally decided to come back.” He grunts and steps back. Callista seems taken aback by his attitude and finally realizing how different he appeared.

“How long?”

“Several hundred years if I am counting correctly.”

“What? That’s impossible, every other time was maybe a few years at most.”

“Because we had so many returning visitors before that young man. Anyhow, I’m sure you have questions. We don’t have much time.”

Callista shakes her head, refusing to accept what was plain to see. Azriel can only hope its one of two options, “But where is everyone?”

The old man, chuckles. As if he’s been waiting to deliver what hes about to say for years. As if it would make all of it okay…

“Oh child, they’re all long gone.”

➽───────────────❥

Taglist: @bubybubsters @mich0731 @azziessidehoe @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nightless @thelov3lybookworm @kemillyfreitas

#azriel acotar imagine #acotar azriel #acotar azriel imagine #acotar fic #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #acomaf #acowar #azriel x oc #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel x original character #azriel x female!reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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AITA for letting out our* indoor cat?

i (24 they/them) live with my mother (51 she/her) and my sister (29 she/her), altho both of us have moved out and lived on our own, but moved back into our childhood home due to economic/health stuff, mostly caused by the pandemic

during the time living on her own, my sister has gotten a dog and two cats. while we all love them and take care of them, i would be lying if my mother and i didn't expect her to, and be annoyed when she isn't, be their primary caretaker

both my sister and myself are against outdoor cats. i dont think its safe for the cat or the local ecosystem, and she agrees. one cat however does not care for our opinons, and tries to escape by any means, having learned to open doors, both with normal handles, and the garden ones, and we had to start locking everything up even when people are at home. due to his tenacity, he is always wearing a collar now, has been microchipped, and is up to date on all outdoor cat vaccinations just in case he does slip away

before you say we should take him on walks — we tried but he starts thrashing so violently in his harness he breaks out of it and runs off. trying to tire him out at home hasn't really been working, cuz he just doesn't want to play with us in the limited space — he likes getting chased

the issue is. i have migraines that have gotten much worse over the past year. i finally started medication about two weeks ago, but apparently it will only start showing any results after 2-3 months

one of the ways the cat tries to get us to let him out is by screaming bloody murder. i think you can guess where this is going

i asked my sister to take him to her room, and she has, but 1) we share a wall so it was still painful, and 2) she works from home, and after about 20 minutes she threw him out and said that sorry, but she just cant have him there. her door locks. mine doesnt. so even if i close the door he will open them and stand by my bed meowing as loud as he can

i was having a bad one. i-have-broken-a-bone-and-this-is-worse bad one. extreme photosensitivity and double vision, sounds hurting, nausea. honestly looking back at it, i probably shouldve called emergency services it was that bad. but i obviously havent been thinking clearly, and all i wanted was for the sound to STOP. so i let him out and went back to being miserable in a dark room

usually when he slips out, we tell my sister immediately, but i didn't. i guess she assumed he gave up. she found out when he showed up at her window couple of hours later

my sister is obviously majorly pissed at me. mam grew up with barncats, so she thinks cats should be allowed to come and go, but since its my sisters cat, she respects him being indoors — but shes annoyed by the racket, and thinks that its on my sister to find a solution, and being mad at me for this is her own problem. i feel really bad bc i really do think that letting hinm out like this is dangerous for him, but i genuinely felt like my head was going to explode

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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roe-and-memory · 6 months ago

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lightnings silly goofy ass would definitely break a finger or two out racing and just not give af . do u get me

like, a car gets loose in his bumper, crashes him — his wheel gets yanked out of his hand, an edge on the outside of the wheel catches his gloves and at the sheer speed its turning it (unfortunately) breaks one of his fingers. he cries out but shuts himself up as quickly as he can and tries to act Calm (and totally not in pain).

caution flag flies, his car rolls down to the apron, and he comes over the headset with all the determination in his bones..

“get out the tape - both for the car and for me.”

doc understands right away, and as little bits and pieces of his bumper come off on the racetrack as he drives around the inside to pit road, he guides the car with his elbow and pulls off his glove.

its Obviously broken. the joint is already black and blue, he cant bend it without it sending sharp pain throughout his hand, but he stretches his fingers as best he can, wincing in the process — and he finally pulls into the pits.

doc is waiting just behind pit wall with medical tape in hand. while lightnings crew pulls off access pieces of plastic and sheet metal from the car, doc comes over, puts down the window net, and with a worried look asks his kid what happened.

“oh, uh..” he quickly holds out his hand, palm up, and doc just stares in horror.

“kid, you need to go to the infield ca-“

lightning stops him before he can say another word, “i’ll go after the race. please just let me go the last 30 laps. all i need is for you to do the buddy-tape thing, please?”

with as much apprehension but trust in his driver as he can possibly muster up, doc nods. he tapes lightnings index finger (the one thats broken) to his middle finger, all the while his team is taping up the car and changing tires. doc regrettably helps him find a way to wear his glove that’ll work with the buddy-taping, and eventually lightning is sent back out on the track with small pieces of advice and a panicked father in his ear telling him to avoid anything stupid.

after the race, he keeps up his promise and goes to the infield care center — they send him to the hospital (as they lack the xray capabilities) and it turns out he broke the middle joint of his index finger and his knuckle. all he asks is that they Dont put him in a cast, and rather give him a splint or tape — his ass is NOT giving up racing for something as silly as this.

the next weekend, after an entire WEEK of doc warning him the dangers of driving like this, along with the BEAUTIFUL black and blue bruising blossoming on his hand, followed by the inability to move his broken or even his OKAY ones, he finds himself back on pit road in a firesuit and a microphone shoved in his face.

kori asks him how he is, how they’d all heard about his injury last weekend.. they talk about racing a little bit, and finally she asks him how ready he is to race, and if hes ready with the injury or not. all he responds with is doing jazz hands in front of the camera, affectionately showing off his bruised hand and buddy-taped fingers.

#cars 2006 #cars fandom #lightning mcqueen #pixar cars #cars headcanons #memory’s headcanons #he does not care one bit #hes so real get those wins king #even if it hurts immensely

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writing-whump · 6 months ago

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I would love to see Dylan interact with Isaiah somehow. Not sure how this works in your world or for your plot, but if he had a reason to come see Seline at her apartment and only Isaiah is home, and of course Dylan is sick or something? And he’s trying to posture for Zaya and be all tough but he feels terrible and cant keep up thr act? (Emeto). How Isaiah reacts is up to you. Only if this works for your long term goals for the characters. Thank you!!

This is such a great idea, Lis! Thank you!!💙 This is a Dylan story more than anything else, but there isn't actual emeto in this one, just an onsetting flu that he will spread to everyone else.✨️

Don't touch me

Rip did not expect Dylan to come back.

Wolves like that, from cozy homes and with moms to go back to, tended to bail, when they lost face.

Not that Rip blamed them. If he had somewhere to return, he would too.

As it was, he was stuck in the lawless district. Specifically in the one quarter of it that belonged to strays like him. Abandoned cellars and apartments with broken windows and dump coaches.

He found a nice one like that, covered from three sides by basically standing walls, with only the wind coming in through the nonexistent windows and the broken entrance door. The upper cupboards even had places that weren't all destroyed by dumpness in the air and where he sometimes managed to wash and dry some clothes.

Rip's shadow was so aggressive, that it couldn't take any wolf who wasn't absolutely and willingly submitting to him. Which made it good for fights, he even made some money that way.

It also meant he was basically the king of this hole. He had the whole apartment complex and the space inbetween the buildings all to himself.

But Dylan did come. So Rip didn't regret him seeing the place. Let him see why not to come back the third time.

Dylan didn't make any comments and instead invited him for ice cream. Ice cream. Just like that. Like it was normal to hang out or something.

Rip tried to ignore him, run from him, disappear on him. Heck, he even tried growling on the kid.

Dylan followed him in pouring rain with the same interested look and stupid smile on his face.

Rip had to admit, if he had nothing else, he had stamina.

They walked together, Rip constantly aware of Dylan's presence behind him, while doing his best to look like he wasn't.

Dylan was insistent. And a friendly presence, with Rip's shadow not minding him behind his back.

They stopped at the imagined line between Rip's quarter and the shopping street.

"The ice cream place is just five minutes that way," Dylan said, bouncing on his feet. He wanted to take the lead, waiting for Rip to allow it.

And Rip realized he would allow it. He wouldn't mind it this time.

"I can't," he said, growling to not sound regretful.

"Why not?"

"That's human quarter that way," Rip said, sticking his hands deep into his pockets.

"Ehhmmmm...I mean, yeah, humans live there, but it's still no one's territory. Why then..."

Rip waited for Dylan to realize. To understand that Rip's shadow was powerful, win-oriented, absolute. That it demanded submission from wolves. And it was even worse with humans.

Rip couldn't, by good consciousness go out there and risk tearing every passerby to pieces. His shadow was too used to doing it to everyone. There was no reasoning.

Dylan took longer to see through it then Rip wished. Obviously, it never crossed his mind he wouldn't be able to walk around humans. To any quarter and around any wolf he wanted.

How freeing it must be, to be you, Rip thought bitterly, turning around to walk back to his place. His hole. His hell of a life.

"You don't belong here, Dylan."

As Rip walked back - alone - he wondered which one of them was really losing face.

...

Things with Rip didn't exactly go as Dylan hoped they would.

The wolf was tough, hostile, more upset than in any other mood. In some kind of constant calm angry annoyance with the world and everything in it.

If Dylan didn't know how just and kind Rip was inside, he would have given up by then.

But Dylan did see and did know and he couldn't just leave a wolf he knew was that good inside. How many people did he meet, befriend, been loyal to, that turned out to be rotten or traitors at the core? How rare and amazing was it, to know someone, to see someone proven from the inside, before you even became friends?

Dylan was easy to influence by groups, with his instinct to belong, to be part of something. He was vulnerable in a way Seline, with her absolute individualism and inability to be around anyone she didn't agree with without saying something couldn't understand.

As kids, they were both alone. Witch and wolf with human parents, Slovaks in Austria. Living between two worlds on several levels.

But it bothered Dylan a lot more than Seline. Seline didn't need people. Yet she still found a pack with that boyfriend of hers. So unfair.

Why was he going to her place then?

Ah right. Cause he walked around in rain all day, and how he was sneezing every minute, his head was killing him. And he had a two hours long ride on the train to get home and having a place in Vienna used to be their dream together...

Rip's words were still echoing in his head painfully. You don't belong here. You don't belong here. You don't belong.

Dylan braced against the wall. His nose was stuffed, so he couldn't tell the scents apart. But this was Seline's new address, so he rang the bell.

He could hear it from the inside, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited. He wanted...he just wanted his sister. Someone who wouldn't ask worried questions, but who would also give him knowing looks and baby him for a bit.

The door opened and Dylan immediately straightened up.

That wasn't Seline. Or the other wolf that lived with her.

No. Of all days he had to run into him, it had to be today.

Isaiah Wolfson stood in the door, not a wrinkle on a perfectly fitting black suit. He looked ready for a meeting, although he was home and it was late afternoon.

"Hello. Can I help you?"

Dylan scoffed. "Is Seline home?"

"Unfortunately not." Isaiah gave him an assessing look. "You must be Dylan."

"And you are Isaiah," Dylan said sharply, blinking away his exhaustion to meet the wolf's eyes. He was usually not this stupid, when interacting with adult wolves.

Meeting their eyes when you were younger or in other ways obviously weaker, was a very very bad move.

Maybe if Isaiah attacked him, Seline would get pissed off with him and leave.

Isaiah met his gaze steadily, pupils contracting slightly. But he said nothing, unmoving. Then he expanded his hand in a human greeting towards Dylan. "Nice to meet you."

Dylan almost growled in frustration. Not only was Isaiah not fazed, his shadow didn't even flinch from its human shape. And he was extending a hand to him!

What an absolute showoff.

Touch was off limits for wolves. If you knew anything about wolves, you knew to follow this rule.

Wolves never touched when greeting each other. Touch was intimate, reserved for most trusted, most loyal, the closest among the pack.

And you didn't touch a wolf you didn't know, period.

Just like you didn't stare one in the eyes.

Here was Isaiah Wolfson, easily offering to take his hand.

That was a sign, a message and an attack all at once.

Dylan flinched away on instinct. He could not stand the show of sheer control and power in that gesture, looking down.

Isaiah opened the door wider. "Come i-"

Dylan brushed passed him. He wasn't interested in the apartment. He wasn't interested in Isaiah Wolfson.

His shadow was, however, acutely aware of Isaiah behind him. There was an aura of uncoiled power. Not like wolf or a tiger, it was like a dragon standing behind you, breathing down your back.

Dylan took a shaky breath, not getting any air through his stuffed nose and sneezing. He managed to cover his nose with his elbow, looking around in a feverish haze.

"Where is Seline?"

"She is still at uni, she will be back in-"

Dylan took a deep breath through his mouth and found what he was looking for. A frail trail of grapefruit and ocean, leading up the stairs.

He made his way up the stairs, winded by the effort. But there it was.

Dark blue covers on the bed, a table overflowing with notebooks and pens, way more than anyone could ever use at once. One big pillow and three smaller ones. Shelves filled with books with way too long titles.

Yep, that was the one.

Dylan collapsed on top of the covers, clothes and shoes and everything. He would get yelled for it later, but he didn't care.

He gathered the pillows under his head in the hope of getting some air through the elevation. Isaiah didn't follow him up. At least that was something.

...

"...didn't even take your shoes off. How many times did I tell you to always change from your outside clothes? It's like inviting the whole subway into my bed..."

Dylan woke up to familiar lecturing tone of his oldest sister, a slight smile on his face as he yawned. "Hi, sis."

Seline looked perplexed by his good mood, before huffing. "Yeah, yeah. Puppy face won't work."

He opened one eye at her, sniffling and making a pitiful expression. "You sure?"

She sighed, stepping to her window still. It had the kind of herbal plants on it that Dylan knew from their mother's garden.

Seline took one leaf of one of the plants, breaking it into two. Then she climbed into the bed and put them into his nostrils.

"Hey-" Dylan protested feebly, breathing in the leaves...and one of his nostrils cleared up. He took another breath. His face still felt stuffed and filled with liquid and he could feel it covering the back of his throat. But he could breathe again.

"Coleus amboinicus. Also known as Indian borage or Mexican mint," Seline said with a smug expression.

Dylan rolled his eyes, but rolled on his back, relieved. "Thanks, smartass."

"What would you do without me?" Seline said over-sweetly, then flopped on the bed ungracefully to lie beside him.

"Still an elephant, are you? Where are your girly charms?" Dylan joked.

That earned him a smack to the chest and a scornful expression. "How long have you been sick?"

"Not sick. Just got a bit of a cold, it's nothing." With the two parts of the leaf, this was the first time the whole day he could breathe properly.

"Right. Well, you can't go anywhere in this shape. I messaged mom you are staying over."

Dylan couldn't have been more relieved, so he spread his arms around himself on the big double bed. "That's convenient. I got a dancing practice tomorrow."

"You found a job?" She said hopefully.

"Not really. But I'm helping with high school choreography for end of the year events and if they like it, maybe I can do it next year again."

"For three months again?" Seline said, but there was no bite to it.

When their mother talked about his jobs since he dropped out of high school, it always had that existential dread at the end. Seline said it with dettached curiousity, like she couldn't care how he ended up making it.

He wasn't sure if it was because she just didn't care that much or believed he would make it, no matter how.

His overachieving academic success of a sister and a witch and a 19 years old high school dropout of a wolf. What a pair they made.

He nuzzled his face into her pillow.

"Don't spread your germs on my things, you jerk!"

He laughed and let her curl up against his chest for the warmth.

Not because he missed her. Not at all.

#sickfic #cold #fever #fluff #cuddling #siblings #whump #hurt/comfort #werewolf wip #my writing #Dylan #finally finished something this week #yay

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