#IMAGINE HER SAYING THAT ^^^ BACK TO HIM WHEN SHE COMES BACK WITH MOSS LIKE ASKING HIM TO RAISE MOSS WITH HER BLEEEEGGGHHHH

[baylardian-1]

Before the mission where Philippa finds Moss, Philippa discovers she's expecting. For a short while, her and JJ scramble to figure out both themselves how they are going to go about raising a child together. Philippa takes some time off to work through things, and eventually they start working on a nursery in JJ's house in Ireland. Not very far into it, she ends up miscarrying, so the nursery ends up sitting unfinished and neither of them like to go in there or talk about it very much. I don't think many people in their lives would know about her pregnancy or what happened, MAYBE Amelia lol. So later, when she eventually returns to Earth with Moss, it's a bit more inexplicable to them as to why Philippa all of a sudden is wanting to raise this alien baby.

[minkdelovely]

love and power

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prelude

“ask for forgiveness,

never permission.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags: acid rain wound, cannibals living their best lives in cannibal town, slow burn eventual: smut, violence, toxic themes

word count: 1.7k

hello world! i currently have alastor brain rot and felt compelled to jump back into writing fan fiction. i’m a little rusty and i’m not sure how many parts there will be; i won’t deny that this is purely self-indulgent but i hope you enjoy all the same :)

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

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Hell wasn’t what you had expected it to be. It was worse.

Thoughts of your grandmother rose to your mind, despite how desperately you tried to push them down. “Hell is the absence of God,” she would always say after one of her famous rants. A warning you perhaps would have heeded, had it been coming from a place of love instead of moral superiority. 

You had seen her on the streets of Hell a few times now, always sure to avoid catching her attention. The warm pleasure that bloomed in your chest was too precious to give up, despite knowing how good it would feel to rub her fate in her face. A lot of good all those Sunday mornings had done her, haughty bitch! You wondered how often your grandmother laid awake at night, desperate to know how she had ended up here. A wicked grin spread across your lips, revealing milky-pink fangs.

It was hard not to imagine the look your father would have given you if you could tell him she was here. He would definitely have scolded you, but you knew a small part of him would be amused. If calling her a bad grandmother was putting it lightly, she was an even worse mother-in-law. Hopefully you would never get the chance to tell him; Mother was waiting for him in Heaven, after all. And things should be much easier for him now, all things considered. Leaving him alone hadn’t been part of the plan, so all you could do was tell yourself that it had been worth it. Someday you would believe it.

Grandmother was right though, loathe as you were to admit it, and the feeling of loss burned through you every morning when you awoke. Every night, you dreamed of rain; the sound of it, the smell of it, the feeling of it coming down on you in the middle of the family garden. Oh, how you missed the garden. The dark, wet dirt. Blue puffs of hydrangea against stark-white azaleas, your mother’s coveted yellow roses. The Spanish Moss hanging like phantom sails off the branches of the huge oak tree in the corner, where your father had placed a bench and made a small pond. You would sit under that tree for hours lost in a book, listening to the sounds of the garden.

The fire and brimstone you could endure. It was the way everything else was twisted here that was grueling. As if feeling your lament, a drop of acid rain hit your window, quickly morphing into a full-blown storm. A frustrated growl erupted from you and you rolled onto your stomach, burying your head under your pillow and said a silent prayer to whatever force would grant mercy on your roof. You couldn’t afford to get it fixed again. The prayer had been answered just a moment after the rain stopped, when a drop of it fell from the ceiling and onto your pale, unsuspecting calf, your mattress absorbing the scream of pain that tore through your chest.

As the acid made its way through your leg, and eventually your mattress, all you could do was sob. Eternity… This was eternity. 

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If this morning had been good, the day could only now be considered grand.

There was really nothing quite like a post-rain stroll through Cannibal Town, witnessing the misfortune of partially-dissolved sinners who had been caught in the deluge being consumed on the streets by the lively, ever-hungry inhabitants. Alastor would never tire of this jovial bunch that called this part of the Pentagram home, reveling in the sound of screams, the crunching of bone, the almost-lewd and animalistic grunts of feasting.

Were Rosie not expecting him for tea, he might have allowed himself to join in on the fun. Alas, his only solace was that Rosie never served anything less than superb, being the excellent hostess that she is.

He was quite intrigued by her invitation to join her alone, which meant that this likely wasn’t anything to do with donating a small army of cannibals to aid in the fight against the Angels. Indeed, Charlie’s presence would be required once it was time to cash that favor in.

Not that he didn’t enjoy a casual visit (as casual a visit between Overlords could be), he couldn’t help but wonder. Thinking a few steps ahead was a must if one was going to thrive in Hell, and well, it was no secret that Alastor was doing a pretty fine job at that, all things considered. He began to whistle, earning a few gory smiles from cannibals who stopped mid-meal to enjoy the tune. A true honor.

Rosie opened the door for him before he even had the chance to knock, the “Closed for Rain” sign clattering against the glass as she cooed. “Alastorrr! Come in, come in, before it starts raining again.”

As if on queue, a roll of thunder tore through the clouds, drawing a cheer from the denizens of Cannibal Town in anticipation for round two. 

“Rosie, my dear, always an honor and a privilege to be deemed worthy of your company,” Alastor said, bowing his head as Rosie feigned a blush, leading him to the parlor where they would be taking their tea.

The usual pleasantries were exchanged between sips of tea, coffee, and candied organs, which Alastor forced himself to consume through sheer courtesy. It was all part of the art of visiting, one he quite enjoyed, and he would never shame his mother’s memory with bad manners. They had just finished a plate of finger sandwiches when Rosie leaned in slightly, the conspiring grin on her face letting him know that it was, at last, time for business.

“You’re always so good to indulge me, Alastor. It doesn’t go unnoticed,” she said, grinning as she motioned to a maid to come grab their empty plates. “I’m sure you’ve been dying to know why I asked you over here this afternoon.”

“Oh, Rosie, it’s purely selfish! You know how hard it is to find good company in this godforsaken place. I’m more than grateful to receive your hospitality,” he said with a trademark smile and flick of the wrist, leaning back in his chair as the maid cleared the table.

She had just turned to leave with their plates when the smile on his face nearly faltered. Was that… almond he smelled? It had been so long, but he was fairly certain it was. There was an underlying trace of blood, though that was common enough around here. But almond? It was too pleasant for Hell.

Rosie’s eyes darkened to match her grin, not missing the twitch of Alastor’s mouth. She knew he’d have been able to smell it. It seemed that so far only Hellborn could pick it up, but what would be the fun in letting him know that? 

“Divine, isn’t she? A walking pastry, but not much of a talker. I like to bring her around whenever a room needs some pizzazz! She would’ve been eaten alive had I not taken her in,” Rosie whispered cheekily, as the maid returned with a fresh kettle and a gelatin mold for dessert. Rosie, not missing a beat once the tray had been set down, turned to her with a smile. “Thank you dear, you can leave now. I’ll ring the bell if we need anything else.”

The maid gave a silent curtsy and left the room as instructed, her sweet scent clinging to the air. Since coming to Hell, he took pleasure in the taste of bloody iron, the bite of black coffee. But in life… Memories of marzipan and frangipane tarts swam in his mind. And hadn’t Mother used almonds in her cherry pie crust? It took Alastor all he had not to drool, unsettled by the sudden rush of saliva in his mouth. Ages had passed since he last thought of such sweet things. He cleared his throat with as much grace as he could muster. Rosie only grinned.

“Well, she’s certainly new, so I suppose it’s not surprising she doesn’t talk much. It’s quite easy to tell when a sinner is… adjusting. So morose! You’re very gracious to have taken her on.” Alastor took a sip of coffee, desperate to get that almond smell out of his nostrils. 

“We both seem to be rather gracious these days, don’t you think?”

And there it was.

Rosie sat back in her chair and crossed her legs as she continued. “I was actually wondering if perhaps she might fare better in that hotel you’re running. Don’t get me wrong, she smells incredible, but fuck does she suck the air out of a room once the novelty wears off. She was scaring away clients, and you know it’s pretty bad if cannibals are uneasy around you for Christ’s sake, which is why I had her start working back here, but…”

Alastor had to resist gripping his knee, putting all his effort into maintaining a pleasant face. He had expected to be asked for a favor of sorts, but never did he imagine that Rosie wanted him to take on an employee. She’s had sinners sign contracts for little less than a new parasol, let alone a job. There was something more to this.

And beyond being an air freshener, what good was she for, really? He could deal with quiet, but to have to put up with yet another sulky face! What he had done to deserve it, he didn’t know.

But he knew there wasn’t really a choice other than to take the poor creature into his charge. Rosie was an alley he deeply cherished, and he was already in her debt for the help she had provided just weeks ago. This was no doubt the first part of paying that debt back, a sign of goodwill. Not every deal was beneficial from the start; still, Alastor wouldn’t outright accept the offer. That was part of the fun.

“Well we already have a maid,” Alastor said gently, “but after the recent renovation, we are anticipating more sinners to check in. Not that I doubt Niffty’s abilities, but I suppose she could do with some help when business picks up. How long were you thinking of lending her to our cause?”

Rosie waved her hand. “Lend? Oh, honey, if you’re willing to take her, she’s yours. I’ve got plenty of helping hands, but it does me no good to have such a wet blanket hanging around. There’s just the matter of…,” Rosie trailed off as she reached into her purse, retrieving what Alastor already knew she had been grabbing for, “…her contract.”

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[remushrts]

yours to keep (pt 2)

— pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

— a/n: part two for this ask!! more remus on a comforting mission with reader, i truly wish everybody had their own personal remus right now <3 take care babes

— warnings: mention of throwing up, overall angst but there's a lot of comfort to make up for it, reader is kind of numb

You feel like there's a ringing in your ears that just won't go away. It's this small thing, insistent, driving you insane. It's what you imagine would happen if a bomb dropped on the apartment complex right now, the world goes silent for a minute, and everything is out of focus. The words echo inside you over and over, and you don't know if you feel real right now. It can't be real, it can't be happening, it's all you can think of right now. You want it to stop, the entire world, but you know that, outside this apartment, things keep happening. It feels unfair that the universe keeps moving unaffected.

You're holding your head on your hands when you hear the door click softly, your breath shallow as you raise your eyes. Soft hazel ones meet them, but Remus doesn't say anything this time. He sits by your side, his leg barely brushing on yours, and lets you decide. Slowly, you melt on top of him like mush.

"Dove?" He calls you, still as a rock but comfortable as your favourite pillow. You think it's kind of amazing how he can be both at once, just when you need him to. His fingers trace gentle patterns on your back. He doesn't even comment that you're wearing his sweater, over the same clothes you've had the day before. "Have you eaten, my love?"

Remus doesn't call you that very often, only when you're not feeling your best and he knows you're not with your head in the right place to really listen. You shake your head, you tried to, at least, but if you couldn't stomach two pieces of plain toast, you gave up on anything else. Strangely, you don't feel hungry, just empty.

"Okay, I'm going to make you something." Remus says, and you cling into him, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold on tight. It's more than you've moved the entire day, you think, but he just feels so nice to let go of now. He seems to catch it too, wrapping an arm around your middle to press you even closer. "Wanna come with, lovely girl? You can watch me cook."

You open a soft smile, not more than the corners of your lips curling up half an inch. His offer is good-natured, but you don't think you can, a thick layer of sadness growing into you like moss. You've been simmering in it the whole day. "I'm okay here, Rem." Your voice is small as you talk, and you think that's what you feel like now too. Small, like a child that can't understand what is going on.

He tilts his head, not fully believing you. You don't know if you can blame him either. He gets up, pressing a kiss against your forehead and murmuring the words against your skin. "I'll be back soon." He offers, softness overflowing in his voice.

He does keep his promise, and the smell that comes from the kitchen is familiar, earthy and rich. Remus holds a hot bowl of soup in his hands, a spoon for you in the other.

"You told Hope." You say immediately, but there's no accusation to your tone as you make grabby hands at the bowl.

"Guilty as charged." He smiles softly, pulling you back into his embrace. How could he not? Hope adored you from the moment he walked you past their cottage's door, and she was wiser than he'd ever be. So yes, he talked to her in the phone and swang by to get a pot of soup and some advice, hoping one or the other could soothe your aches right now. He presses his nose into your hair as you eat, his lips barely brushing against your ear. "Talk to me, dove, please?"

His words are never an imposition, but you bite your lip. You don't mean to cry, get your tears mixed up with soup, but you don't think you can hold anymore. Remus carefully picks the bowl from your hands and sets it down on the coffee table. "I'm so sorry..." You sob quietly, your hands are shaking before you know it, but then they're over Remus', and he's coaxing you into his lap. "Remmy, I don't want any of this to be happening anymore, I'm so tired..." You mumble, not even sure he can hear you.

He can, his touch tightens on you lightly, a much proper hug now. His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping your tears. You feel the scar that traces the side of his hand. "I know you don't, baby..." He whispers, stroking your hair.

"I shouldn't be crying now..." You say, trying to pull away from him, but he knows you too well, his arms keep you right in place. He knows what you mean, it's been a couple days since you last visited home and heard the news, but you couldn't feel anything back then. It feels like you're only coming to your senses today. "I'm sorry..."

"Shhh, what are you apologising for, uhm?" His hand cups your chin lovingly, driving your gaze back to his, your eyes shining with tears he wishes he can take all away. You're the bravest person he knows, loveliest too. You, from all people, didn't deserve to be going through this. He kisses your wet cheek. "You can cry if you feel like it, dove, it's not a crime."

You hiccup a laugh, barely a sound, but the smile through your tears is unmistakable. "You swear it's not?" You joke back, he kissed the tip of your nose.

"Absolutely, my love. And if it is, they'll have to go through me." The promise is soft, tender as he presses his forehead against yours. Nothing feels too close right now, nothing feels overwhelming or too terrible. It just feels like Remus.

[reythenerdypisces]

things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread

Part 2: Sea of Monsters

there is a lot this time.

this book is so short and it makes up for the length by being hilarious: 

I had nightmares about what Poseidon might turn me into if I were ever on the verge of death - plankton, maybe. Or a floating patch of kelp.

Tyson froze. "Pony!" he cried in total rapture. Chiron turned looking offended. "I beg your pardon?" 

"Um..." I said. "Would this be the super-dangerous prophecy that has me in it, but the gods have forbidden you to tell me about it? Nobody answered. "Right," I muttered. "Just checking." 

"Uh, I like Hercules." "Why?" "Well, because he had rotten luck. Even worse than mine. It makes me feel better."

Annabeth looked at me. "We have to get out of here." "You think I want to be in the girls' restroom?" "I mean the ship, Percy! We have to get off the ship."

Tyson was terrified of them. All throughout the tour, he insisted Annabeth hold his hand, which she didn't look too thrilled about.

"Then why do the gods even let me live? It would be safer to kill me." "You're right." "Thanks a lot." 

A minute later, Annabeth hit a slippery patch of moss and her foot slipped. Fortunately, she found something else to put it against. Unfortunately, that something was my face. 

As Luke was raising his sword to rally his troops, a centaur shot a custom-made arrow with a leather boxing glove on the end. It smacked Luke in the face and sent him crashing into the swimming pool. and a few moments later: He [Luke] raised his sword, but got smacked in the face with another boxing glove arrow, and sat down hard in a deck chair. Luke can't catch a break from those boxing arrows, it's the funniest thing

2. also so much baby percabeth!! they’re so cute

She'd [Annabeth] emailed me the picture after spring break, and every once in a while I'd look at it just to remind myself she was real and Camp Half-Blood hadn't just been in my imagination. the fact that he printed out Annabeth's photo? 

Annabeth punched him in the nose and knocked him flat, "And you," she told him, "lay off my friend." her standing up for Percy is adorable

I mean she [Annabeth] looked good. Really good. I probably would've been tongue-tied if I could say anything except reet, reet, reet.

She [Annabeth] started to sob - I mean horrible, heartbroken sobbing. She put her head on my shoulder and I held her. Fish gathered to look at us - a school of barracudas, some curious marlins. Scram! I told them. They swam off, but I could tell they went reluctantly. I swear I understood their intentions. They were about to start rumours flying around the sea about the son of Poseidon and some girl at the bottom of Siren Bay. number 1. the way percy is always there for her, number 2. the gossiping fish?? I love it

The look in his [Grover] eyes told me something was terribly wrong. Annabeth had been on guard duty that night, protecting the Fleece. If something had happened -he’s admirably protective, of not just annabeth, but all his friends and I love to see it… exhibit b:

"But if I [Grover] get in trouble again, you'll be in danger, Percy! You could die!" "If you get in trouble again, I want to know about it. And I'll come help you again G-man. I wouldn't have it any other way." I adore their friendship.

3. other mentions: 

"I'm Thalia," the girl said. "Daughter of Zeus." what. an. ending. I still remember how floored I was when I first read this wow

the mention of Hylla got me so excited

am I the only one who forgot Percy could control the sailboat? like the flying ropes and whatnot

I also completely forgot about his watch shield! 

I'll be back for part 3 shortly! :)

[writerfae]

No thoughts, just Aiden and Henry hugging!

Also, how come Ranva used to call Henry little crow? (Not that it doesn't fit, it does (duh), I'm just curious if there's a story behind it)

And how did Hela end up in the human realm when she met Aiden?

Forest demons: uniting friends since day one!

And I wanted to rant at you a little about Bendegúz because I realized that I haven't really done that since I talked about his dad, and it made me sad, because I love him (also, I'm scared that sometimes I accidentally mischaraterize him because him and I have the same exaggerated humor but if you mix those together it just makes him sound insane💀)There's a very good reason why the difference between the villain Adél au, the villain Ákos au and canon is what Bendegúz does!

I wanted to tell you about some moments of his that I love (angst warning)

I mentioned that he and Ákos sometimes playfight, and Bendegúz sometimes shows him how to use his spear. And can you just imagine 8 yo Bendegúz with a 3 yo Ákos, and they're playing with sticks (pretending they are spears), and Bendegúz isn't that good with a spear yet, but to Ákos he already looks like an expert ❤️🥺

Also, there's this sweet moment where they're preparing to fly home from the swamp (and it's not the happiest circumstances for Ákos' first, real flight) and Bendegúz apologies for this and promises that after this is over they'll go on a real, nice, pleasant flight

The fact that he took care of Moss (who he doesn't even like) while Ákos was gone

When Adél is told that Ákos is dead the first thing she does is run to Bendegúz and he's holding her so tightly and aaaaa

Just his inner struggle of "It wasn't MY litte brother! I can't be sad!" But as soon as there's even the slightest chance to get him back, he's on it!

Both him and Adél being willing to go to the swamp even though they know that the chances of Ákos being alive are close to zero.

Adél and him spend so much time together! Ever since their parents introduced them to each other as babies they were always together. Never one without the other

Bendegúz learned to fly, and now him flying up to Adél's window just because, is a regular occurrence. They constantly have sleepovers (it's really easy since Bendegúz and his mom live on the castle grounds)

It's really cute because in Bendegúz's house Adél's childhood drawings are hung up, and vice-versa 😭

And they play a lot of boardgames 😭

He is very good at lighting up a bad situation with a joke but never in an inappropriate way. Just in those moments when people need a little cheering up, and this always makes his friends feel all warm inside.🥺

I'll stop cause we'll be here all day...(sorry if this got long)

I hope you liked this little rant 🙈

Ranva called Henry her little crow because of the color of his hair and for a second reason that I can’t say out in the open xD she also referred to her sons as her little crows sometimes, also for that second reason.

And Halea came to the human realm because while fighting the forest demon, the beast and her practically “fell” through an open portal to the human realm that someone (or something) must’ve opened shortly before and left open.

Bendegúz really is a sweetheart, his relationship to the royal siblings is really adorable! You can tell he loves them!

[yureichi]

I’ve gathered quotes from twk and qon of Jude being in love but pretending she wasn’t bc why not. let’s gooo.

“My body has acclimated (to poison), and now it craves what it should revile. An apt metaphor for other things.”

“(After the crossbow incident) I am shaking, I realize. The aftereffects of believing someone tried to assassinate Cardan, of realizing he could have died.”

“I wish I could think of a place he’d be safer.”

“I look into his eyes. His hand slides to my hip, as though he might pull me closer. For a dizzy, stupid moment, something seems to shimmer in the air between us.”

“I still feel the warm pressure of his fingers against my skin. Something is really wrong with me, to want what I hate, to want someone who despises me, even if he wants me, too. My only comfort is that he doesn’t know what I feel.”

“Our gazes meet, and there’s a shock of mutual understanding that our bodies are pressed too closely. […] I am aware of the warmth of his neck beneath my twined fingers, of the prickly brush of his hair and how I want to sink my hands into it. I inhale the scent of him—moss and oakwood and leather. I stare at his treacherous mouth and imagine it on me.”

“Then his mouth is against mine, and my lips part. I close my eyes against what I’m about to do. My fingers reach up to tangle in the black curls of his hair. He doesn’t kiss me as though he’s angry; his kiss is soft, yearning.”

“I’ve wanted this and feared it, and now that it’s happening, I don’t know how I will ever want anything else.”

“I hate you,” I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel.”

“I hate you,” I breathe into his mouth. “I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.”

“I like him better than I’ve ever liked anyone and that of all the things he’s ever done to me, making me like him so much is by far the worst.”

“She loves him, I realize uncomfortably.

His fingers trace their way down her arm to the back of her wrist, and I remember vividly the feeling of those hands on me. Kiss me until I am sick of it, he said, and now he has most certainly gorged on my kisses. Now he is most certainly sick of them. I hate seeing him with Nicasia. I hate the thought of his touching her.”

“I wonder if I will ever be able to look at him again without remembering what it was like to touch him.”

“It occurs to me that maybe desire isn’t something overindulging helps. Maybe it is not unlike mithridatism; maybe I took a killing dose when I should have been poisoning myself slowly, one kiss at a time.”

“[…] All I want to do is walk into his arms. I want to drown my worries in his embrace. I want him to say something totally unlike himself, about things being okay.”

“The offhand implication that he’s not alone most nights bothers me, and I hate that it does.”

“I cannot look at him as he goes out. I am a coward. Maybe it’s the pain in my leg, maybe it’s worry over my brother, but a part of me wants to call after him, wants to apologize.”

“I hope Cardan misses me.”

“I wonder what would have happened if I’d admitted he wasn’t out of my system.”

“But when I think of the night he was shot at, the night he did coin tricks, I can’t help recalling him gazing up from my bed, intoxicated and disturbingly intoxicating.”

“I am unnerved to find myself here, in the new High King’s new bed—one I am still too human to lie in, beside someone who terrifies me the more I feel for him.”

“But there is also a weakness in me, because I dreamed of him kissing me for all my time in the Undersea, and now with his mouth on mine, I want to sink my nails into his back.”

“I don’t want to think of someone else standing beside Cardan in my place.”

“The very thought of being there (Elfhame), of seeing Cardan, speeds my heart. At least no one is privy to my thoughts. Stupid as they are, they remain my own.”

“I want another bite at the everapple, another chance at power, another shot at him.”

"He looks every inch the spy from the Court of Shadows, down to the sneaky smile pulling at a corner of his beautiful mouth."

[nobathroombreak]

Mikasa being told not to poop by eren and her holding it for as long as possible while on missions and how it affects them

Omg this is so hot. I’m imagining Mikasa feeling a subtle fullness in her bowels and a crampy ache in her stomach after dinner. She’s gotta drop an anchor. Heading to the rickety Survey Corp outhouse, she’s intercepted by Eren. His dark hair falls at his jaw and there’s something mean about his face, something insatiable.

“Eren?” Mikasa sways a bit, another cramp mounting in her stomach. She’s not scared, she could never be scared of him, but he is unsettling her. Her belly gurgles, low and warbling, as though it’s nervous too.

Eren steps up to her. He crosses past her personal space. He’s too close and then he’s whispering in her ear: don’t use the bathroom until I say.

Mikasa shivers, the command ringing in her ears even after he steps away, leaves her there in the dark, with her sphincter tightening as the thick log inside her retreats from her rectum, her traitorous body already operating on Eren’s demands not hers. And it seems only he can release her from his curse, because when she plants her pale ass down on the outhouse toilet, quietly grunting with a pretty flush staining her face, her body doesn’t listen to her. It’s not like she’s constipated. She can feel the massive turd sitting in her stomach like a brick, but her anus remains puckered and closed.

By day three, she’s getting desperate. Her farts are coming along hot and steady, shooting out past her squeezed cheeks when she thinks nobody is watching. Riding on her horse at least allows her to sink bubbly farts into her saddle. They ripple the soft flesh of her ass as they come out and have Mikasa sighing with relief.

Day four, she’s in Eren’s formation for the mission. He’s watching her. She can feel his eyes hot on the back of her neck. Her stomach moans. She needs to fart, badly, she can feel the gas building like a weather balloon expanding, pushing on the confines of her white button-up, straining the buttons as she rubs her tummy furiously, trying desperately not to rip ass in front of Eren.

Then, Eren says casually: “you can go now.”

Mikasa’s eyes widen. Her anus loosens just slightly but it’s enough to unleash her mighty winds. An obnoxious sputtering fart that sounds like a strangled duck blows out of that plump butt of hers, and, before she can even be embarrassed, she’s dismounting her horse, waddling to the nearest bush, and dropping her trousers.

She moans as a thick, doughy light brown log stretches her hole wide, sliding out of her and piling on top of itself like a mushy banana. She farts three times, ripping gas that sounds like cannon blasts, and then her hole is spreading open again, depositing two more huge turds onto the pile. Then, loamy soft shit surges, covering the stack of logs with butt batter. Mikasa finally looks up. Eren is atop his horse, staring at her with a crooked smile slashed across his face. He’s not the boy she knew. Mikasa averts her eyes, her face bright red, but there’s a part of her— a small part, sure, but it was still there— that wanted this to happen. She wanted to hold it in like a good girl for Eren. Then the shame overrides the pleasure and she wipes with damp moss.

[fernclans]

MOON 05. (part 2) (tw; none i think!)

Starring: Cliffpaw (BuddingClan), Flippaw (BuddingClan), Amberpaw (BuddingClan), Dashpaw (BuddingClan) Mentions: Magpiestar (FlintClan)

“May all cats of BuddingClan gather beneath the Echoed Stones for a clan meeting!” A ginger feline called before leaping, landing unsteadily at first atop their clan's gathering place; a set of three stone pillars, one taller than the others, where the leader, deputy, and head mediator would sit once upon a time.

“UGH- finally!” A small rosy brown molly bemoans loudly as she bounds around the grassy slope beneath, claws catching dirt between them.

Another cat strides forward, rolling his eyes when he sits. “You don’t have to say the whole thing every time, y’know Cliffpaw? It’s just the four of us.” Dashpaw teases, shooting the other tom a playful wink to show he’s not being serious.

“It’s better than us completely abandoning the traditions our clanmates died fighting to protect.” Amberpaw sneers, not picking up on the toms’ lightheartedness.

The half-white tom’s cheeky expression dissipates into a flat one of disappointment. “You don’t have to suck the air out of every situation, Amberpaw. Lighten up will you?”

“Could you two wait until after my ceremony to argue?” Flipkit complains, shooting both of them an exasperated look and sparing Cliffpaw from having to break things up himself. Both felines seemed startled at the younger cat's comment, both reacting with their own levels of embarrassment and apologies. 

Cliffpaw clears his throat one more time, dipping his head to Flipkit in appreciation.

“Flipkit, you have reached the age of six moons and are ready to begin your training as a warrior of BuddingClan. From today forward, you will be known as Flippaw; while I can’t act as a proper mentor for you, we will all work together to complete our training as a clan.”

“I won’t let you down!” Flippaw meows back enthusiastically while Dashpaw and Amberpaw call her new name in celebration.

The cheering subsided and the three apprentices looked to Cliffpaw expectantly; there was still one more ceremony which needed to take place. His own.

For once, the confident tom looked uncertain, his remaining yellow eye concentrating down on his paws. “I, Cliffpaw, feel as though I’ve completed my training and that I am ready to take the full responsibility of BuddingClan’s first full warrior.” Not that he hadn’t done so already moons prior. “Though, to be honest, I’m not sure what I should call myself. Since I was a kit I always imagined Magpiestar being the one to do it, I hardly spared the thought of thinking of what I would want it to be.”

“You could just skip a step and call yourself Cliffstar.” Dashpaw meows jokingly.

Cliffpaw grimaces. “Even if StarClan didn’t smite me for that, I’m not sure I feel ready to call myself leader- not in that way.” He was a leader, but he didn’t feel quite like he could be the leader. "Besides, I haven't even trained an apprentice yet."

“How about Clifftalon? Or Cliffsnarl? Something cool and intimidating!” Flippaw chirps, eyes shining.

Amberpaw chuckles beside her. “Do you think Cliffpaw is intimidating?”

“Do you think Cliffpaw is cool?” Dashpaw jeers.

“Well I don’t, but other cats might.” The youngest of the four explains.

“Hey--! Come on!” Cliffpaw perches on the edge of the stone, tail swishing behind him. His vision spins slightly as he looks between his clanmates, claws sinking into the stone and moss for stability.

“Right, sorry.” Amberpaw shakes her head, looking up at him and taking notice of his unsteady state. “Do you want to get down? Dashpaw’s right, it is just the four of us…”

Cliffpaw shakes his head, regaining his former posture. “No, not until we settle my name.”

“What about Cliffstone?” Dashpaw meows, almost seeming sincere before following it up. “Because once you’ve set your mind on something, you’re as stubborn as one.”

Cliffpaw begins to grow frustrated. “I’m not that stubborn.”

“Yes you are! Only a cat as stubborn as you would make it back home with that kind of an injury still fresh.”

“Dashpaw kind of has a point.” Flippaw interjects. "He would've let CypressClan take care of him until they forced him to leave." All but Dashpaw laugh, the brown and white tabby tom feigning offense for dramatic effect. The moment subsides, leaving them back to where they'd began.

Amberpaw hums thoughtfully. “How about instead of stubborn, we can say reliable? Even after you were gone for days, we were sure you were coming back.”

Cliffpaw seems taken by surprise, a warmth filling his chest. “How sure?”

“As sure as the stripes on your back.” She smiles.

Cliffpaw goes silent, tapping his tail rhythmically against the pillar while in thought. “...how about Cliffstripe?” 

“‘Cliffstripe’?” Flippaw echoed. “Isn’t that a little… basic? Come on, Cliffpaw! You fought a WOLF for StarClan’s sake!”

The dark ginger tomcat bristles somewhat, forcing his fur to go flat before replying. “We lost everything to those monsters- I won't give them my name too.”

Silence again fills the grassy slope, all cats feeling heavy under the weight of the past five moons. It's Amberpaw who breaks the silence again. “So, Cliffstripe, right? I like it.”

Dashpaw speaks next. “Yeah, it suits you.”

“Mm. It’s fine.” Flippaw pouts, just hoping that her suffix will be different.

Cliffstripe gives a weary smile, slowly easing his way onto the soft ground. He brushes against each of his clanmates, a deep purr rumbling in his throat while they depart.

[fuedalreesespieces]

inuyasha's time on the tree is honestly a subject that fascinates me. imagine you were a kid in the village where this all happened, fifty years ago. you hear rumors of the hanyo skirting around the village, but your parents tell you that miko-sama will take care of it - after all, she's taken care of every demon that's showed on the village doorstep, so this should be no different. and then she dies - the woman you thought was invincible, that everyone told you was invincible, untouchable, dies. she bleeds out surrounded by people, and you hide behind your mother's wrap skirt while you watch the pyre burn, and the smoke pour into the sky. your village's only protector is gone, and in her stead is a little girl around your age, who up until now has only held her sister's quiver. is she able to hold her sister's mantle and all that comes with it? it's a question too heavy for you to think on.

kikyo-sama's murderer - that's what they say he is - is pinned to the tree in the forest. you are forbidden from playing there anymore, but there are days where the ball rolls out of the street and into the foliage, and you chase it over the moss-covered crags until you find yourself there. and at first you're terrified to go any closer, plagued with images of the hanyo stirring to life and attacking you. but he doesn't stir. he doesn't move. he almost doesn't seem to breath, and it is only by the slow rise and fall of his chest, punctured with kikyo's arrow, that you know he must still be alive.

you can't fathom how he still lives.

you ask around. it's a touchy subject, and nobody in the village has anything good to say. the rumors are shrill and inescapable, like cicadas during summer: he charmed her, he bewitched her, he played at being her friend and betrayed her. always, he is the betrayer. you learn nothing from them and there is nothing to unearth. the right people to ask are no longer able to respond. the ones old enough to give you answers speak with restrained anger, rage tightening the skin around their lips. you visit kikyo-sama's grave, leaving flowers with the other villagers, but her empty headstone provides no answers, either.

the hanyo is silent, and the forest grows around him. you had never looked at him before, only knowing his face torn apart in anger and shock, moments before the arrow's magic overtook him. you, against all the chastisements of your parents, and all the recurring tales you've heard of youkai, find yourself at his tree without thinking. and it is his tree, just as it's his forest, because nobody dares to step foot in it. nobody except you. you linger by the generous shade of the trees, watching from a distance, expecting something. but the tree he rests against may as well be a gravestone, too.

you find yourself in the forest doing menial things, like collecting firewood, even though your mother tells you that it's best to avoid treading too far. the trees by the hanyo are too thick for someone as tiny as you to put a dent in, anyway, but you imagine it would be easy work for him - his claws peek just under the fluttering rim of his sleeves, and again you imagine him tearing himself free of his prison and stalking towards you. he doesn't. no matter how much noise you make, his eyelashes lay low, and his body hangs limp, like your sister's rag-doll.

you imagine this may be a mistake, but you continue to make the same choices. perhaps it's the lack of answers, or the childlike curiosity that tethers you back into the forest. maybe it's the fact that while you were able to gaze upon kikyo-sama from afar, you never quite knew her. you admired her as everyone else did, but just like the gods themselves, she was distant. the closest you'd ever been to her was the day of her death, when her mask of serenity broke into a thousand pieces, and she clung to her sister's arm for the first time, begging kaede to follow her instructions. a face of pain, a twin with that of the hanyo's - a thread between them, sewn together by the death itself.

somehow, this hanyo is the last remaining piece of the village's deceased priestess.

you move on with life. you grow older, and get married to someone in the village, and watch your own children get married - but the hanyo is there, just as he was decades ago, as unchanging as a statue. it's an unfair comparison, you think - any statue you've seen is cold and immobile, but the hanyo's blood pulses under his skin, like he's constantly running. though he looks peaceful, you still believe, after all these years, that he could escape at any moment.

but inuyasha doesn't escape. a girl in strange clothes frees him, and when his eyes flash open, you see life enter them again for the first time in fifty years.

[thanotaphobia]

i read your most recent qsmp fic, it has left me in shambles its very wholesome also heartwrenching and i wanted to ask, do you have any thoughts on what would wilburs reaction be if he saw the white in both tallulah and chayannes hair?

oh anon..... i didnt have any before but now i do........ (prev qsmp fic!)

Wilbur gets home on a Tuesday night.

Tallulah knows she's supposed to be asleep, and yet. She sleeps lightly these days anyway, not like Chayanne, who snores and sleeps like the dead. Tallulah wakes at the slightest sound, which means that when the door creaks open softly she snaps awake and waits, terror coursing through her veins.

And then she hears the soft humming, and thinks, papa.

She doesn't move. Doesn't open her eyes. Plays asleep as Papa sits on the edge of her bed and leans over, brushing her hair back from her face. She feels him kiss her forehead, gentle and soft, and then pull away.

"Hey, Lullah," he says, so quiet she might've imagined it. She continues to feign sleep, because, well, because-

Because she feels safe. And she missed him. And she loves hearing him talk to her when he thinks she's not listening.

"Missed you," he says, smile clear in his voice. His hand brushes her hair back again, fingers combing through it without catching on any snags. "Hopefully I'll be back long enough t-"

He stops. Full stop, abrupt. She feels his hand move in her hair, as if double checking something.

And then he gets up and leaves.

Tallulah lies in bed, fingers curled up in the sheets, before finally sitting up and glancing toward the door. The dim light is enough to see by and she can see him disappearing up the ladder- it's only a moment later she hears the door of Abuelo's house being practically torn down. Even underneath the stone and reinforced moss, she can hear the voices trickle through, and papa sounds mad. Really, really mad.

"Phil!" he says. "Open the fucking door!"

More movement. More voices, softer, hushing. Papa says a bad word, and then another bad word, and then abuelo says, "She's fine, Will-"

And then papa starts crying.

Tallulah lies down again. She reaches up to her hair, fingers tugging the white piece out from between the rest of it, twirling it in her hand. She can still hear papa, breath hitching and words coming fast and low. Abuelo is talking to him, voice too quiet to make anything out. She wonders why papa is so upset, but figures the white streak in his hair that she was so excited to match has something to do with it.

Eventually, the only sounds from upstairs is abuelo's hushed voice. Even that dies out after a while. Tallulah lies in bed, and waits for the sun to rise.

The next morning, when she sees him and pretends she hadn't heard a thing last night, he hugs her. Tight.

And Chayanne can tease as much as he wants, the stinky egg, but Tallulah hugs him back and does not let go until he has to leave her once more.

[mist-see]

I don’t wish you well. 4

Short story.

Inspiration from Brent fiayaz; darling I don't wish you well

Italics=English

I imagine since the Navi can see in the dark, this causes them to have tapetum lucidum, reflective eyes. Well it’s kinda canon with the sully family picture lol.

Yandere Reader × Neytiri X Jake Sully

Summery: You wanting to kill him, you were going to. But you were warned.

⚠️warning⚠️

Mention of killing

The apology went exactly how you knew it would go, awkward, and painful. You loved it. Maybe you loved it too much as you thought about it while bathing in the hot springs, mind flashing back as his eyes widened at your proximity

You considered yourself to be a nice person, very inviting, and very mature for your age.

But it was something about Jake Sully that made you want to be the most obtuse jerk. You couldn’t stand him. You couldn’t stand his lingering sweet funk, his stupid hair that he refuses to let get braided, his small beady eyes, and his weird extra fingers and toes. Just a funny-looking alien in a false body. Just like the rest of them.

Jake Sully made you get very out of character, as someone who is self-aware, you couldn’t even recognize yourself.

(Flash Back)

. You left moats healing cove with a slight attitude. Your blank face only got betrayed by the tail that whipped so fast behind you it sounded like it was slapping the wind and the pointed ears that pressed to your head

Apologize, she says. Apologize for what? I did him no wrong, why am I the one apologizing when he should be the one apologizing? He’s the one that’s ruining everything, always in the way, always around her, stealing her time.

You walk away from the healer's tree and jump branch to branch on your way to your home, where you could only assume Neytiri and Jake would be. Your steps matched your attitude, fast with light stomps, twigs, and moss not having a chance as they crumbled underneath the force of you going up the home tree.

“Hey, you.” You watched as he shuffles in the hammock, head looking up only to catch your reflecting eyes staring daggers into his. He laid there awkwardly stiff as you interrupted him while he was getting comfortable. “Um-yes?” He mumbled, body never moving from its weird twisted position.

You have his body a glance, forcing them away to the hammock beside him. Neytiri wasn’t there. “Oh- she’s getting clean right now.” He notices your lack of attention, the webbed bed beside him having your eyes. “So why aren’t you bathing?” You scrunched up your face, eyes reflected like a cat, snapping towards the man below you.

Jake shifted uncomfortably as your piercing eyes met with his, heart almost stopping. Something is so off with you. You were intimidating, possibly more than the tsahik, you were eerie, dangerous.

You left the worst goosebumps on his skin when you came into eye view. This might be the longest conversation you’ve had with him, and it’s about his personal hygiene. And he’s seen you almost every day.

You already thought low of the man, now he’s just unhygienic? ‘Neytiri, why him!’ He could read all over your face that you didn’t enjoy his presence, he just didn’t know why. You found him such a nuisance, a weirdo. This was something he was used to.

Embarrassed, Jake sat up and turned his body towards you, blue face tinting purple. “W-well you see- look I know it seems like it’s gross but I usually bathe in the morning” “The morning? No that’s wrong. We train, we hunt, we do chores, we eat, we bond, we clean, we bathe, we sleep.” As you spoke your hand was out, pointing towards the man with each point you made.

“Yeah- and I understand that, but I just feel better cleaning myself in the morning-“ “You are cleaning yourself wrong. You sleep dirty. We do not take off our hammocks and clean them, they are a part of Eywa, and they are attached to our home as they grow from it. You are wrong. We are done speaking about it, come, we talk.”

Before Jake even had a chance to speak, you walked down the large tree branch and into the room that was in the trunk of the tree, where the Navi stored their belongings. He took a few seconds to reach you, breathing a little hard. You are embarrassed for him.

“Why are you looking at me like that.” He asked as he released a deep breath. “I am embarrassed by you.” You repeated your thought. This flustered the man some more, causing him to scoff and look away. “If you don’t even like me then why are you even talking to me.” You squinted your eyes at him, not liking the attitude.

“I come to apologize. I was going to kill you today.”

Jake Sully stood there quietly, his small eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them. It almost made you laugh at how wide they stretched. He didn’t know how to act at that moment, what would his reaction be, what would he do? In this short amount of time in silence, he analyzed your mannerisms, seeing how relaxed you were, and how soft your face was.

You didn’t see wrong in your words, nor in your doings. You didn’t even know if he was going to attack you, yet you were so nonchalant. Were you that comfortable in yourself that you knew you’d win a fight with him? Thoughts on thoughts on thoughts, he didn’t even realize how you narrowed your eyes at him as if challenging him to do something, but he did notice the way you stepped up towards him, making him step back in caution.

“Speak.” You commanded him to speak his thoughts. You stepped up to him once again, first time being so close to him, it was a shocker to you both as you were a little taller than him. “This is me apologizing to you Jake Sully. I apologize, speak.”

You wanted nothing more than to bump shoulders with him to get downstairs to bathe and sleep. You could care less if he accepted your apology or not for the simple fact you know he’s hiding something. You didn’t know what, but he is.

Jake Sully sucks in a breath as you invade his personal space for the first time in 2 and a half months. It was overwhelming, this is the first conversation you’ve had with him and you’re apologizing for almost killing him when he didn’t even know about it? When did you try to do it? Why did you try to do it? Had he done something wrong?

Do you know?

Gulping, the man stood his ground and looked up at your 9ft figure, tail no longer swaying in nervousness as he wrapped it around his leg. “I…accept your apology.” He gulps as he looks between your eyes instead at them.

“Good. We shall speak nothing of this. Go bathe, then sleep. Neytiri is teaching you how to make arrows tomorrow.” And just like that, you walk away, leaving the blue man behind you frozen with nothing but nerves and fear.

You must know about the plan. Why else would you want to kill me? You didn’t bring it up? No, you can’t know that’s impossible.

Jake looks over his shoulder, and you were gone.

It felt amazing to speak to him as if he was trash. Because that is what he is.

Trash.

The next day you woke up to the future Olo'eyktan staring down at you with a leaf filled with meat and berries. You jump up at the feeling of something glaring at you, only to see Tsu’tey grinning down at your figure. “Eat worrier, the tsahik calls for you.” You groan at this and fell back against the spongy material of the hammock. Tsu’tey releases a roar of laughter before reaching down and giving you the warm leaf. “Eeeaat sister. Get strength. Later we will bring yerik back for tonight’s dinner.”

You and Tsu’tey were not biological siblings, but you were close friends. This is why you trusted Tsu’tey with Neytiri. But you did have real siblings. An older sister named On’ak, whom you rarely saw as she took care of your elderly parents, a younger brother named Ka’ani, and a baby sister named San who stayed with your parents. “What are you doing now?” You asked, voice scratching while you sit up to eat.

You try to keep up a conversation, but all you could think about is what Moat was going to say. His words going in and out, it was damn near slurring together

“Meeting with Takuk, Ka’ani, and Saeyla. Your brother is getting better, I feel he shall claim his ikran soon.” He praises the younger, something he rarely does, but he was proud of him. “Good. I’m tired of him whining. How’s your training with the Olo'eyktan.” “I cannot stand the meditation aspect. It is boring! I want to fight and hunt. Not sit there falling asleep.” Tsu’tey was the only person that could make you feel calm. He was a true friend that didn’t make you feel pressured or on edge. You could trust him. Even if you were in love with the person he was to marry.

“Enough speaking, eat. I’ll see you later!” You nodded a bye to him as he stood from the branch and went downstairs. You have no idea what’s in store. Oh, Eywa.

“Child you are late! Sit!” You couldn’t even speak out a proper greeting as the tsahik shoved you over to the cushions. “What is the rush?” You ask the lady, watching as she closes the cloth that separated her room and the stairs. Her fast pacing made you nervous “There is something you need to know… and you will not like it.” She took in a deep breath before sitting down directly beside you.

I won’t like it?

For some reason, you knew. You had a feeling…and you knew.

“What? What is it?” You felt that feeling again. That feeling when you first saw Jake sullies eyes lock with Neytiris. That deep pit of nausea and disgust forming in your gut. You were about to throw up.

“As you know, polyamory relationships are quite common for us Navi folk.” Where is this going? “I used to be in one before my children were born, my second wife, shízolí. That was until she fell sick many years ago.”

You were dead silent, jaw clinching and eyes widened as you were praying to Eywa that the vomit bubbling in your stomach wouldn’t come up with full force. “Get…to it.” You swallowed thickly, anticipation jumping through your bones, disgust rattling in your gut just as it did when you saw those sky people shoot up your friends a year ago.

Moat watches as you freeze up. You are truly dramatic. Just as she was about to speak your truth you cut her off.

“Do not tell me if you’re going to say what you are about to say.”

“Well, child do you want me to stay quiet or tell you.”

“I want my ikran to bite my head off.”

“You are to marry my daughter y/n. Not only that but you are to marry Jake Sully as well.” Oh god, you felt it coming up. “I can’t- I- I won’t.” You took in a deep breath, about to stand up to pace around. But the tsahik holds you down, forcing you to keep her facing you.

“You can, and you will. It’s Eywas way.” Her eyes widen as she hisses at your defiance. “What about my friend?! Hm?! The future leader of this clan??! What about Tsu’tey!?” Your voice cracks as it raises. Marrying your best friend sounded like such a dream, all to be burned down with knowing you’d have to carry that disgusting thing children one day.

Those babies don’t deserve a colonizer for a father. They didn’t deserve that.

“He will understand when it comes down to it! He loves Neytiri, yes! But his heart and soul belong to someone else. He will get over it as your future continues.” Her voice mellows down into a whisper, eyes no longer wide as she tried to calm your beating heart and wondering eyes.

“What future Moat? The future where my brother looks at me with disgust? The future where I lay on my back to mate with the alien that tries to steal my mate?! Or the future where I and my best friend, my mate, my Neytiri have to lay on our sore ass backs to push out his big-headed ass kids.” Your voice was monotoned, eyes going blank as you bore them into the leader of the clan.

“Yes. And that is your future.”

________________

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Part three<<<<<

Part five>>>>>

[sugolara]

Disappear

ft. Katsuki Bakugo x Shoto Todoroki x Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn

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Shoes crunching leaves of different shades, the three walked through the woods that surrounded the city Rhote. With the moon already up, they were thankful for the fresh cool air, though they had to be wary of any lingering rotter as they didn't have any flashlights to help.

At every noise they heard, they would still their movements and have their weapons ready. Occasionally, the culprits would be the critters that roamed the woods, a few being rotters that rested against the trees with moss growing on their melting bodies. After countless restless nights, it was evident that paranoia was showing.

F/n quieted her yawn, "Please let there be a house nearby."

Beside her, Katsuki swatted flies away, brows furrowed in annoyance at their buzzing, "I doubt it. Theres nothing but trees and these damn fucking flies that are begining to piss me the fuck off."

"Maybe they are attracted to you because you smell." She shrugged watching the blonde mockingly laugh as he glared at her. "Aren't you fucking funny. You smell like shit too."

"I meant it in a nice way." She said, waving her hand in the air to shake off the flies.

"There is no nice way when you're covered in sweat and blood and other different types of shit." He scoffed, examining her clothes, "Don't tell me that you spent your whole life smelling like ass and thinking it's normal."

"Actually, I did." She thought back to her camping days and she should have mentioned that part as the blonde gave her a disgusted face, "Not the normal part, but it was very efficient for attracting animals."

"What?" He wanted to laugh, but he swallowed it down, "What the hell are you even talking about?"

In front of them, Izuku shook his head as he let out a quiet sigh. He too had the same thought when he told her something about beavers. He had actually spaced out trying to imagine how she had done the process and it felt too rude to ask her to repeat it when the conversation finished. However, she probably should have left this one to herself as the blonde looked like he was about to run off.

"I'm talking about attracting animals." She waved her hand, "You know?"

"No, I fucking don't." He looked at her as if she was crazy, "Are you saying you have a thing for ...animals?"

This time she looked at him as if he was crazy, "What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about!?" He quietly shouted.

"I'm talking about attracting animals as a trap." She again waved her hand, expecting him to know, "So I can kill it for dinner."

"You could have said that in the first place." He rolled his eyes, "And why the fuck would I even know that information?"

"I don't know, you look like the type of guy to know that." She responded with a shrug.

"Well I don't and its pretty fucking weird how you even know that." He scoffed, giving her a suspicious look, "How do you know that?"

She hummed, her eyes on the back of Izuku's head, "My father taught me. He's...an interesting person."

"That explains." He eyed her. Then he shook himself off, placing his hands in his pockets, "Well, thank fuck you don't have some sort of weird fetish, otherwise we're going to have a serious problem."

"What's that?" Izuku let out another sigh at her comment. It really was like Shoto was with them, except a female version, and a rather unique one. Pushing that aside, he was glad that she seemed more open to them. Three months in the woods was all it took for her to come out of her shell, or perhaps it was the home where she felt safe. Either way, he was just pleased with the way she was turning out to be.

With the two behind continuing to chat, Izuku kept his ears trained on any other voice that wasn't theirs. As he looked around him, in the very distance he spotted what seemed to be a building in the open with the woods surrounding the place. When he stopped, it caused the two behind him to do so as well, their voice no longer being heard as they stayed quiet.

He pointed to what's ahead of them, his voice being kept low, "There's a building up ahead."

Katsuki squinted as he tried getting a good look, but he could only see an outline, "It looks big."

"Probably a warehouse." Izuku mumbled, "The doors look too big."

She glanced around them, expecting for someone to be shown, "Watch out, anybody could be nearby."

Izuku hummed, "I don't know, it looks too clean and alone."

"I don't see any shoe print either." Katsuki said as he looked down around them. With the little moonlight that showed, he was able to see partially.

"We should still be careful." Izuku said before carefully proceeding forward, "Stay low."

They crouched as they walked by the bushes to hide their figures and when they saw nothing suspicious, they quickly headed for the double wide doors. There seemed to be a chain lock hanging on one of the handles and thankfully enough, the lock was undone. So quietly, Izuku opened the doors, letting his friends inside before closing the door behind him.

The building was dark, much expected due being night, but the windows high above the walls did allow some light to enter. The blonde reached into the small pocket of his bag. He pulled out a lighter and with a click, the fire bounced off his face. He extended his arm, shining the lighter until he was shown next to him where a crate rested and on top of it was a flashlight.

"So damn dark in here." F/n said, her eyes trying to squint in the darkened. The boy next to her agreed, using the moonlight as help, "Watch your steps."

With a flashlight in hand, Katsuki placed the lighter away as he turned the light on. The bright light caused them to shield their eyes, but when they regained vision, their eyes had grew.

"Oh my..." Izuku eyed tall racks of shelves stocked with supplies.

"This is months of supplies." F/n mumbled, "Who the hell even managed to grab all this in a short amount of time?"

Snapping out of his daze, Katsuki glanced to find a couple duffel bags. Grabbing them he handed it to the other two, "Hurry up and grab everything. Someone isn't dumb enough to leave all this behind."

Agreeing, the three separated as they noticed the shelfs held different items. While Katsuki and Izuku stayed at the front, F/n headed to the back as she had spotted what looked like a gun. She ended up grabbing a flashlight on her way there and perched it above her as she crouched to place the weapons in her bag.

She could have smiled if it weren't for the fact that this place seemed to clean for it to be left abandoned. Not to mention, someone wouldn't leave this place unlocked if it contained many supplies. Either who ever claimed this building was around or was already in there with them.

And to her amusement, her thoughts were answered as she felt the tip of a gun press behind her head as well as the sound of a quiet cold voice, "Try anything and I'll shoot."

The guns laying around her were probably emptied and even if they weren't the person behind her had the advantage. It only took a second for the trigger to be pulled, so to keep her head intact she listened at his orders. "Stand up."

The male behind her watched as she carefully stood up, her hands were by her side though her fingers twitched. He saw a flashlight up ahead, but he couldn't pinpoint how many were with her due to their careful movements, "How many are with you?"

The last thing she wanted to do was endanger her fellow companions. If she tried to be cocky or if she tried to play something that he didn't like she already knew her outcome. To keep herself and the males safe, she carefully turned to face him, hearing the gun cock and the gun still aimed at her.

Taking in his figure, ignoring his two toned hair and a scar on his right eye, she let her eyes discreetly glance at his height. Due to the dark clothing he wore, she wasn't able to see how muscular he was, but she didn't mind, "I don't want any trouble. I'll grab my stuff and we'll be on our way."

He scoffed, eyeing her like the gum underneath his shoe, "No."

Taking his answer, she nodded and glanced away before quickly shifting her body to the side and hooking her arm underneath his extended one. She then elbowed him and the sudden impact allowed a chance for the gun to clatter. With the opportunity she unlatched from him and headed for the gun, but he refused to let her as he pulled her back, shoving her behind him.

However, before she could fall, she grabbed onto his sweater, both tumbling to the floor. A grunt was emitted from her mouth as he elbowed her stomach, right where her wound was. Thankfully, it had healed, but it still hurt.

Before he could get up, she wrapped her hands around his chest and with her legs she pushed herself off the floor, turning over to where he could be underneath her. She let her weight lean on him ignoring the male trying to pry her arms away as his arms stayed glued to his hide. While he did so, she looked around for the gun, the male struggling as he did his best to not alert her friends, but he wasn't sure how long he could take it as he needed the upperhand.

Though sure enough he got it when the girl had unintentionally placed her hand near his face and without hesitation he bit into it causing her to let out a yelp and soon her arms unwrapped. With her weight no longer on him he pushed himself off the floor before brutally kicking her to the shelf behind them, causing it to stumble with a creak before falling. The amount of supplies had tumbled over her and she quickly wrapped her arms to protect her head, but with her vision being blocked she failed to see the male grab the gun, ready to fire at her.

His heavy breathing failed to notice the rushing footsteps behind him as his mind wanted to pull the trigger, eyes watching the girl move the boxes of supplies off her. From when he first spotted her he just wanted to scare her off, but when saw others with her he figured he could tie them up and drop them off somewhere far away, giving him enough time to pack and leave.

But she just had to ruin everything and now as the girl removed a box from her face he was able to get a good look at her. For a girl, he had to give it to her. He really thought she had him there.

Gritting his teeth, his finger twitched against the trigger, his eyes never leaving her piercing glare and just before he could shoot a short gasp and what sounded like his name was heard behind him as he quickly turned only for a bullet to echo through the building.

Eyes widening, Katsuki briskly reached to grab Izuku before he could crash to the floor. His widened eyes stare at the blood that trickled down Izuku's shoulder, a nice round gunshot wound embedded. He turned to glare at the girl and boy, eyes hardened, "What the fuck did you guys do!?"

Releasing a breath, F/n stood up, her throat clogging up as she looked at Izuku's fainted figure. The gun in her hand, the one she managed to find suddenly and the one she pulled the trigger only to miss, fell to the floor, "I..I didn't mean to."

Hearing her voice, the scar eyed male once again spinned to face her, this time gun ready to fire at her but before he could pull, Katsuki stopped him, "She's with us, Icyhot!"

His hand didn't waver, but he did let go of the trigger as his glare did not soften, "She just shot one of us! You expect me to let it go!?"

Adjusting Izuku, the blonde scoffed, eyes going back to Shoto and F/n, "We'll figure it out afterwards, but right now if we don't help Deku, he'll bleed out! So work with me!"

The girl swallowed harshly, her eyes never leaving Izuku, "He's right, we can hash out our feud later."

As the girl went to pass by Shoto, he quickly used the handle part of the gun, hitting the back of her head before kicking her. He glared down at her, "I'll figure it out right now."

She let out a groan at the blunt force. She didn't have time to reach for her head as Shoto kicked her down. On her knees and hands she tried standing up, her vision swarming in darkness as another hit was marked and the last thing she heard was Katsuki's voice telling him to stop. 

[prismaiden]

⚘ @through-fire-and-flame // cont.

A bead turned reverently between finger and thumb, catching firelight, its many faces gleaming like an ember.  Anri found herself wondering about the tree it had come from.  Were its branches heavy with moss, drooping under their own weight like willow whips?  Was it a tree loved, worshipped, held as holy?  A thousand questions burned on her tongue, but now was not the time to ask – not when the poor chap was half-undressed.  

“They are exquisite.”

Sacred too, she imagined.  That he trusted her to touch them at all felt like a kind of grace.  Carefully, Anri gathered the bead-heavy cord and placed it atop the growing pile of Laurentius’ shed layers.  The beads nestled against the tattered manchettes and the rich fabric of his wrap – burnt orange adorned with broad-stroked yellow-gold markings that might have been runes or sigils.  

“Do you imagine you will go back?  Home, I mean.  To the Great Swamp.”  The sense of anticipation thickened between them, like the sap he had spoken of.  After a pause, she ventured further.  “If you ever do… would you perhaps bring me with you?”  

The image took root almost immediately – swathes of waist-high grassland and boggy tangles of quagmires, a habitat to all that croaked and crawled.  A den of heretics, some might say.  But, more than that, it was his homeland.  Anri wanted to see the place that had gifted her with Laurentius, to stand beneath weeping canopies and gaze at the stars, to see his bearded face by the light of a thousand fireflies.  

Her pale fingers hesitated for a moment at his waist, her blue gaze soared up, seeking his hazel.  Her confidence was a fragile, fawn-legged thing, born of eagerness and tender feelings rather than experience. Was she moving too quickly, too greedily? Was he nervous?  Anri supposed he might be, given how the apple of his throat bobbed, how his sheepish smile was faintly dressed with tension.  

Lips curved into a gentle smile, eyes crinkling with fondness.  Hands moved again, working the hem of Laurentius’ robe upwards, over his head, leaving his dark hair fluffed.  Heat seemed to radiate from him, his form all edges and angles that contrasted with her own.  Distinctly masculine, wonderfully made.  Warmth climbed Anri’s cheeks, and she knew she must be blushing fiercely.

“There you are,” she murmured softly, in adoration.  With a glance of askance, she reached out to touch him, featherlight fingers skimming over his chest.  Here was an altar at which she would gladly give praise.  “My dear, beautiful Laurentius.” 

[fartasticdurge]

Nec-romance

part 3/7

Join Bellara in this premiere serial as she recounts her companion's most thrilling and inspirational moments, adding her own artistic interpretation and revealing insider details directly from the characters.

Feel the allure of necromancy engulf you as you ascend from the cool, silent lower halls of the Necropolis to the windswept, Fade-drenched vista of the Lighthouse, mirroring the romantic journey of Rook and Emmrich.

Bellara marked the first scene as her favorite of the entire serial.

She would have never assumed walking through a cemetery garden, picking up Blue Creepvines and Moon Blossoms to set on graves, lighting candles and joining in death related ceremonies would make up the top of her dates.

Yet, as Rook greeted Emmrich’s long lost parents' graves and him walking ever so closer to her towards the looming skeleton statue close by, after, she knew what was to come.

“Shroud’s kiss.” He said as he leaned towards the bloom of flowers before them. “I’ve always loved the legend around this flower.”

He carefully selected a flower, its petals shimmering with the green flames of the flickering torches, and presented it to her, his gaze unwavering as he spoke. “They say it grows on lovers’ graves, and that one moves closer to the Fade by simply inhaling its fragrance.”

Rook brought the flower to her nose and inhaled deeply, the fragrance of sunlight woven through an early spring breeze—soft, sweet, and fleeting, with a warmth that wrapped around and left just as quickly, like a whisper from something beautiful and just out of reach filling her lungs, she exhaled the words. “Is that true?”

“It is when I will it, my dear.”

With a flick of his wrist, the flower dissipated and flowed upwards into glimmering speckles. With another gesture, they multiplied and flowed all around them, creating a warm snowfall of unspoken words, requited adoration, and a hint of necromantic magic.

Rook leaned against the statue as Emmrich closed the distance between them, and she suddenly felt very grateful for all the interruptions, missed moments, and other occasions when she wanted to devour him, rush to the finish line, and get the prize.

Of course, he would know the exact thing to say. Of course, he would know the exact moment when to make it right and heartfelt and leave her entirely speechless and wanton for his touch. Of course, it was perfect.

But unlike any other time when she wanted to bruise another man’s lips with her own, take control, and get her prize after a good chase, this time, there was a different kind of thrill in the air, something she couldn't quite explain. Emmrich wasn't just any man; he carried himself with a quiet confidence that commanded attention. And he got hers.

The stillness of the cemetery was profound, a solemn peace that echoed the stillness of death as if time had been suspended.

To breathe in the scent of him, a heady mix of citrus aftershave, earthy moss, and delicate lilac, was a sensory experience that she would remember long after he was gone. Their lips brushed in a quick kiss, the thin mustache on his face a pleasant tickle against her skin, before he pulled away, much too quickly.

“What a day of unexpected splendor.”

Rook was surprised by how much she enjoyed Emmrich's company, his presence, and the slow, tender moment. She found herself drawn to his warmth and unexpected charm. A surge of unfamiliar emotion flooded her, a feeling she hadn't known before as if her heart had been seized and held captive by the kiss. She was irrevocably and entirely smitten with him.

She pulled him back on her lips with an urgency mirrored by her own need for him to touch his face and know that he was real, not just some figment of the Fade or her imagination. To place her hand over his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat against her palm, easing the frantic pounding in her own chest. To taste the longing on his tongue as he pulled her closer, his arms circling her in a warm embrace.

How was it that a death mage made her feel more alive than anything alive ever did before?

The professor's endearing attempts to impress his date were heartwarming, from the romantic setting of the graveyard gardens to the elaborate meal he orchestrated with the kitchen staff. She couldn't believe how thoughtful and kind he was, his gestures both amazing and unexpected. And the question lingered in her mind - why?

The culinary journey began with the Nevarran Blood Orange Salad, a symphony of tart and bitter flavors. The ruby-red slices of blood orange, cut with meticulous precision, were nestled on a bed of dark, leafy greens, creating a visually stunning and refreshingly delicious first course. Emmrich went on to explain that for Nevarrans, food was as much of a feast of the eyes as it was for the mouth.

Their travels continued with a hearty Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie for Rook, while Nevarran Flat Bread and a creamy Yogurt Dip was made for him.  The dish, a harmonious blend of sweet honey carrots and delicately poached eggs, prepared à la Val Foret but without the meat, ensured a satisfying and flavorful experience for his vegetarian preferences. She couldn’t resist trying everything on his plate, as it all smelled and looked so delicious, and he didn’t seem to mind sharing. The flatbread, offered so kindly by his hand, awakened a longing in her, but she pushed it aside for now, trying to enjoy the moment.

For dessert, a wave of nostalgia washed over her as she tasted the familiar sweetness of the Cherry Cupcakes from Tevinter, reminding her of home and a life-long past and making her realize that he was even sweeter than she'd thought. Much more than the dessert itself. The Antivan Apple Grenade turned out to be the fiery cherry on top, and she couldn’t resist feeding some of it to him and watching him fan out his tongue as the desert was made to resemble fire grenades in both shape and heat of Antivan grenades themselves.

As the meal drew to a close and Rook's playful teasing subsided, Emmrich's expression shifted, his brow furrowing as he gazed at her with a look of genuine concern.

“The amount of work on you worries me, Rook. Responsibility exacts a toll on the body.”

She had been dreading a more serious conversation, so she was relieved when the topic turned out to be something lighter. She relaxed and responded in kind.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m feeling great.”

“Oh, that bright cheer.” Emmrich said, a sly glint in his eyes as the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “I do ask that you at least avoid putting pressure on that stiff left wrist.”

Rook did not expect that either. She didn't even realize it, to be honest, until he pointed it out. Unless a limb was near death or so bruised that it made it impossible to grip her sword, she wouldn't notice the pain. But he did. Of course, he did. “It’s just a little stiff. I’m impressed you spotted it.”

“Well, I am familiar with the finer points of anatomy.” He concluded with a crooked smile, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Rook let out of long breath, slowly. It took all her self-restraint not to climb the table and kiss him and see just how familiar he was with the finer points of her anatomy.

As a pair of flowing wisps breezed over their table, she felt the cool air brush against her skin, carrying with it the scent of the nearby flowers of the garden, and a sense of calm seemed to settle inside her.

Charm, favorite colors, and other seemingly trivial yet important topics were discussed, but Rook couldn't stop herself from finally asking the question that had been consuming her thoughts.

“What do you like about me?”

“Apart from the compliment of your interest?”

“Come on.” Rook teased, but she really needed to know.

“Darling, it’s gratifying a fresh-faced adventurer noticed me at all. And your spirit does charm, but…”

“But?”

“There’s something quite indomitable about you, Rook. It inspires.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but a sudden lump formed in her throat, preventing any words from escaping, if her mind could conjure any words at all. She could count on one hand the number of people who could do what he did, and even fewer could affect her so deeply with just words, but he was truly unlike anyone she ever met. “Oh… thank you.”

“What do you like about me?” Emmrich asked in turn after a few moments gazing around the garden.

“Apart from your dashing looks, powerful necromantic abilities and having a curiosity wisp inhabiting a reanimated skeleton bring us tea?”

Emmrich waited patiently, his warm smile widening as he watched her carefully consider her response. She wasn’t sure, honestly. It was the way he made her feel, being the object of his interest and showering her with attention, but neither was entirely right. So as the answer clicked into place, the Tevene words came to mind and her lips curved upward in a silent, triumphant smile.

“Haefe ol, nerene mive. Cold hands, warm heart.”

Emmrich smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and his hand reached across the table, his fingers cold against her skin. He leaned in, his breath warm on her face, and kissed her.

Rook sat cross-legged on the floor of her room, lost in memories of Emmrich.  She could still feel the cold tingle of his hand on hers and the way his lips felt against her skin as she traced the memory on her own lips.

She sighed, a wave of frustration washing over her, and looked back at the blank paper. She needed a gift, something unique, something that would truly express her feelings. Something that could compare to what he’d given her. She'd never encountered an alliance or dalliance that wasn't rooted in the expectation of mutual benefit, and she had yet to contribute in any way.

But what could she possibly give him? Her mind raced, trying to come up with something that would be both thoughtful and special. He had everything already. And the few people she asked were no help at all. What was Bellara thinking when she suggested a book on The Forbidden Ones or an Alchemical Kit for Spirit Binding? She had no idea where she could find these items. And given the things in his room, he likely already had them.

Even though the idea to write him something was completely outlandish, she found herself drawn to it, sitting on the floor, trying to make sense of it all. She shouldn’t have told Bellara about the Tevene words if she didn’t want any help, because now was expected to come up with something of her own. Those were just some words she had heard from someone in the Shadow Dragons. In a dead language no one used anymore. They were empty words, devoid of any real meaning.

Rook scribbled furiously, her hand a blur as she tried to make sense of her swirling emotions. This discomfort was unbearable, and she had no answers. She felt lost in this strange situation and she wished she could just swing her sword to fix it somehow. With each crossed-out sentence and filled-in section, the messy notes began to take shape, forming something resembling a coherent text.

Emmrich, I don’t have books or things to give you. Only tales of ventures and freeing people. Yet you listen like it’s the most interesting thing in Thedas. I think you’re strong in a way I’m not. And I admire you for your knowledge and overall weirdness. It’s attractive for some reason. I find you attractive. You make death seem peaceful. I wouldn’t mind ending as a mummy at the Necropolis if I know you would be there. This is stupid.

She crumpled the paper, threw it away, and went to do her rounds around the Lighthouse. But little did she know that Manfred had ideas of his own.

[ryiju-muunie]

He'll jump in the river, you'll wish you're the water

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Omega!Trans!Zoro Roronoa/Omega!Trans!Sanji Vinsmoke Warnings: Omega Verse, Trans Male Roronoa Zoro, Trans male Sanji, first heat, t4t roronoa zoro/sanji, Coming Untouched, Nipple Play, Tribadism/tribbing, Vaginal Fingering, Making Out, Dubious Consent, theres plot to this porn, Omega/Omega, Love Confessions, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Wet & Messy, no when i say wet and messy i mean WET AND MESSY, induced heat, someones coming out pregnant and its not me, Masturbation, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Fisting, Sub Sanji, he might top but hes definitely no dom, Scenting, No Beta we die like block buster, Incoherent Maybe idk you tell me! but be nice Word count: 5095 DESC: Zoro was a beta. He was a beta who had never once in his life considered what it would be like to turn into an omega or even an alpha. But something on his skin was lit on fire and burning to be put out, deep inside his core, between his le- No! He had to focus, get something done at least! If he didn’t know any better it sounded like he was having a heat, but that was impossible. He was a beta after all, a beta who couldn’t go into heat… Right?

GODDDDD WHAT HAVE YOU DONNNEEE YOURE A PINK PONY GIRRL

Zoro was a beta. He was a beta who had never once in his life considered what it would be like to turn into an omega or even an alpha. He never once yearned to smell their pheromones or even feel what their different kinds of arousals did to their bodies. He never yearned to look at his omega roommate and wonder what he truly smelt like; well, he told himself he never did. Of course, the beta had been told before by their other friends he was sweet, bitterly so. But a part of him always thought about it. Was it sweet in a fluffy way, like pure sugar? Or was it sweet in the way of something more flavorful, like cinnamon or chocolate? 

He liked Sanji in every way that was considered normal. As a friend, as a fighter, as a cook, and as a roommate. There was nothing more that lingered behind his feelings, much to Robin’s protests. She had insisted there was something more to his stare, although he pressed it was nothing more than her wild imagination. He never wondered about the omegas skin, how soft it would be underneath his fingers, how it would feel, how it would taste. How would his tongue trace circles around his neck, before biting down? How would the other man react to the sensation? Would he moan? Would he whimper?  

Zoro instantly blinked, forcing the thoughts out of his mind without a second glance. He was seated on their joint couch doing some work on his laptop for a history class of his. No one had told him college was mainly reading, especially being a history major. And no one told him it would be harder to concentrate with his thoughts drifting to Sanji again and again. That was somewhat normal, but being so sexual in nature was odd. In fact, if he focused, he felt hot. Something on his skin was lit on fire and burning to be put out, deep inside his core, between his le- 

No!  

Roronoa shook his head, raking one hand over his cropped green hair. He had to focus, get something done at least! As hard it was becoming, the moss-head had to work! The man swallowed and tabbed back into his work, which was reading a passage and answering questions as he went. It was juvenile but about ancient weaponry, so he was starting to enjoy himself.  

All of his enjoyment of schoolwork went away when his legs started to shift together. Almost uncontrollably his thighs pressed together to apply pressure to his pussy, shifting to alleviate the itch growing warm. It was unconscious and it was good, as his wetness started to pool around his underwear. It was… Zoro bit his lip and froze, spreading his legs apart and staring at his reflection in the computer.  

Something was wrong.  

Did he ingest some aphrodisiac drug that made him an aroused mess? Was his period coming? He was always overly horny before his period. But this was different, it was like Zoro was on fire. Every movement was sending shockwaves to his clit, making him wet. And that too! He was unbelievably wet, as if he was about to soak his pants through. If he didn’t know any better it sounded like he was having a heat, but that was impossible. He was a beta after all, a beta who couldn’t go into heat… Right?  

The man tabbed into Google, hastily typing out the most embarrassing search he had ever concocted in his life. “Can betas go into heat… ye- Yes!?” Zoro muttered, sputtering when he saw the answer. It wasn’t a definite yes, but it wasn’t helping him, “Yes, some betas can go into late heat typically after their 21st birthday. Then will a late bloomer show their secondary sex and go into heat soon after… fuck.”  

Zoro slammed his laptop shut and slowly set it on the ground, standing up. To his horror, the couch already had a growing wet spot, as his pants were soaked. He swallowed and whined when the friction of his panties sent a pang of arousal through his body, making him stop and shiver. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be in heat. He couldn’t be an omega! He couldn’t especially when his roommate was ten minutes from coming home. His roommate who would know in an instant if he was now an omega from the pheromones that were probably oozing off of his body.  

This couldn’t be happening; he thought as the man practically sprinted to his room. He pressed his body against the door to shut it, letting his back rest on the cold wood. It was bad he was going into heat late in life, and it was equally bad that he had no idea what came with it, or even what to do. Roronoa knew it involved sex and uncontrollable slick, but that was about it. He didn’t realize it would be this debilitating, this hard to keep his hands from his sopping cunt.  

His fists balled at his sides and the moss-head tried to breathe, to gather some decorum not to go animalistic and fuck himself until he couldn’t think. But it was so hard, when his panties were stuck to his folds and aching to be pried off. It was hard when his nipples were hardened and poking through his binder, breasts yearning to be fondled. And it was so hot how he was falling apart, hands beginning to wander… What was he even thinking about beforehand? 

Calloused hands ran up his side, pulling off his shirt and hooking underneath his black binder. It wouldn’t hurt to just be shirtless, yeah, it wouldn’t hurt. He nodded his head and took it off, exhaling as the squeeze subsided and his breasts laid back onto his front. Fingers prodded against the flesh and kneaded it, his index and thumb coming to run his nipple against the pads. A moan escaped Zoro’s lips that he couldn’t hold back. The feeling of his tits being fondled felt so good, so intense, he was so close already. Just a few more touches and he felt himself come undone, gasping and cumming into his slick filled underwear. It was a blinding flash of pleasure, running up his core and spiraling into his stomach, spreading down his legs within an instant. 

But it wasn’t enough. He needed to fuck his pussy that was begging to be abused or he would go insane. Zoro wasn’t sure how but he ended up naked on his bed, spreading his legs and pumping his fingers out of his cunt. First it was one, then it was two, but fuck, it wasn’t enough. He needed three, maybe four- or just all of them! The pads of his fingers brushed against his g-spot, bending to poke at it. To massage it between his digits and soak the mattress underneath him further. His other hand came to his neglected clit, rubbing quick circles against the bundle of nerves.  

There was no noise but his moans and the squelching of his honeypot, dripping down his ass and spreading slick against his thighs, “F-Fuck… I’m-I’m gonn.. Fuckkk… I’m gonn.. Gonna.. Ah..a-sh.. Shit.. ah..mm fuck…” It was so hot as his folds twitched, before coming undone and squirting his juices on the mattress below him, pulsating with each finger that continued to pump inside him. Zoro arched his back to the sensation of pleasure, feeling it leave his body. Almost being too much, he panted and continued to finger himself. Just a little more, he told himself, a little more.  

He had almost forgotten his omega roommate was on his way home, opening the front door and whistling to himself. It was quiet in the apartment for a few moments, until Sanji heard a whimper escape his roommates closed door. At first, he chose to ignore it and put his stuff down, throwing his keys on the kitchen counter and resting his backpack on the island.  

But then he smelt it. If he didn’t know any better, it was the smell of an omega deep in heat. It was savory, different than anyone he had ever smelt before. Something kind of like a sweeter bonfire, with that edge of smoke to it. And if he didn’t know any better, the blonde would say it was coming from Zoro’s room.  

Sanji swallowed and approached the door, hearing the noises that fell from his roommate's lips almost instantly upon getting closer. It was mindless fucked-out begging, panting, whimpering, writhing for pleasure- for more release. He knew the sensation all too well. It sounded like Roronoa, but it couldn’t have been. That brute didn’t have a begging or whimpering bone in his body, for one. And second off, he was a beta. How could he go into heat and be a…  

His twenty-first birthday was last week.  

The cook knocked on the door, “Uh Zoro? Are you okay?” The wet noises stopped; moans being replaced with pure silence. He heard some shuffling and a loud noise, probably the moss-head falling over. When the door opened, he was greeted by Zoro, who was naked with sweat dripping down his face. His hair was pressed to his forehead and his skin was hot, red with lust.  

“Curly brow,” he rasped out, clearly out of breath from the looks of it, “I think I’m dying.” One of his hands came up, shaking, to grip the doorframe, “I think I’m about to… die.”  

The blonde sniffed visibly, “No… It’s clearly a heat,” he went to continue but his stomach dropped. It was an intense feeling that came on, causing him to grab the door and slam it in his friend's face. Warmth spread across his legs, down his cunt and up his spine, making him shiver, “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.”  

“...Curly?” Zoro asked from the other side of the door, “Are you dying too?” He was so out of it, because usually he’d at least make some sense. But now the moss-head was nothing more than incoherent babbles, leaning against his door and waiting for his roommate to appear again.  

Slick started to pool in Sanji’s panties, making them stick to his vulva and fuck wouldn’t it be nice if he opened that door and fucked Zoro then and- He shook his head and pressed his head against the door, exhaling a shaky breath. He had to stay in control, he couldn’t lose it. He couldn’t do something he would regret with someone he held so dearly.  

Sanji liked Zoro in every way that wasn’t normal. He was a kind, stupid, idiotic, pretty, stupid, man who knew nothing about basic manners. But he was Zoro, and God, it was hard to keep that door in between them. He didn’t want to ruin this with his desires, and he didn’t want his roommate to look at him the next morning with disgust.  

“Sanji… Come in please,” the omega heard a quiet voice from his green-haired friend on the other side of the door, “I really want you to be with me right now.” It sounded genuine, it sounded real. Not clouded with lust, not clouded with his heat.  

“That’s your heat talking, just give me a second. I think you triggered mine,” he forced out through gritted teeth, clenching his jaw to keep himself in check.  

At that the so-called beta wrenched the ironclad grip that his blonde friend had on the door from him, forcing the door open so they could stare at each other. Sweat ran down his tanned skin and his black eyes bore into Sanji’s blue ones, searching for something. Was it consent? Was it an answer? But an answer to what? Whatever Sanji said or was it an answer to Zoro’s own feelings he had neglected for so long? Because, fuck, spending his heat with his roommate sounded so good.  

“I always want you to be with me,” Roronoa whispered, extending his hand, “I don’t think that’s the heat. I think it’s my heat, idiot,” he pointed his other hand to his chest, pressing against the center as if he was pointing to his heart.  

Sanji tried to hold back a laugh but it tumbled from his mouth, the corners turning up into a pained smile, “I always want to be with you. But in a… different way,” he took his roommates hand, gasping when their skin met. It was electric and it was right. As if every moment in his life had led up to this, so they could touch each other like it was the first time again.  

“What way?” The moss-head slowly walked backward, pulling them into his room with ease.  

“Um…” The blonde looked away and closed the door, “Romantically?”  

Zoro stopped walking and looked down at their hands. They were interlaced, fingers against fingers, holding onto each other for dear life. As if when they broke it would be the end. He didn’t want it to break, he didn’t want it to end either. And the thought of being romantic with Sanji wasn’t unappealing at all. Especially with his arousal talking, it sounded pretty damn good.  

He then nodded, “I like that. Let’s do it, curly.” 

“Do… what?” Sanji narrowed his eyes, letting his mouth hang open for a moment. 

“Romance stuff, like holding hands or kissing,” He then paused, “...Can we kiss?” His black eyes widened, the new omegas other hand coming to clasp over their joint hands. He pulled the other man in closer, staring with something new. This was the lust. This was that overpowering lust he had been fighting off for half of this interaction, before it won and took hold of his body. This was the thing that Sanji had secretly hoped would take over so he could let go and do something. Let his hands wander, fondle, touch, grasp at any surface he could. 

Sanji nodded and their lips found each other, pressing together to make one person within an instant. Fuck it felt so good to kiss, pressing shallow pecks along both their mouths before it deepened. Before tongues lolled against one another and teeth collided. Pleasure spiked from this alone and, god, Zoro could’ve cum from this alone. The blonde's hands started to undo his own shirt, forcing the buttons off their holes and shrugging off the blue once he got a chance. His skin was perfect, made just for the green-haired male to run his hands along his newly flat chest. The scars were fresh but they were perfect, especially if they made Vinsmoke happy.  

“I like you,” Zoro broke apart the kiss to press a slobbery one along his roommate's jaw, pressing more down his neck, “Like a lot.” His hands came to hook onto the jeans holding back his friend's cunt, which he could smell. God, he could smell the pheromones. It hit him and he couldn’t get enough of it. It was sweet, it was so sweet. He wanted to lick along the scent gland once he found it, just to taste more of that liquor against his lips.  

“Marimo… I love you,” Sanji breathed out, helping him pull off his jeans and slick soaked panties. He was breathtaking, everything the other had imagined. A perfect pussy for a perfect omega, sticking out between his legs for Zoro to tease with two fingers.  

He looked up at his blonde roommate, falling onto his knees to get a better feel for his folds, “You love me, cook?” Zoro’s fingers felt around the plush vulva, finding his engorged clit and running it between his pads. He forced himself to stare up into the blue eyes staring back at him with affection and lust, instead of diving into that pretty pussy.  

“I think I do,” the blonde whispered, running his hand over green hair.  

“I love you,” Roronoa leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his pubic bone, not minding the blonde hair that laid there, “I want to have sex with you a lot … too.” His eyes were blown out with lust as he kissed, sloppy open-mouthed kisses along his skin, taking his time as he worked up, meeting his lover's face with a smile.  

“Yeah,” Sanji whined, grabbing the back of his neck to guide their mouths together, “Let me make this the best heat,” their lips met with fervor for longer than they should’ve, hands exploring lower and lower before he pulled back, “You’ve ever had.” 

Mouths pressed and hands grabbed, fondling every part they could grab until Zoro’s back was against the soaked mattress again. His legs spread, slicked folds shining in the dull light as his lover pried them apart with gentle fingers. He dipped down into the wetness, hooking his hand to see how the new omega would react. Slowly brushing against his G-spot, it was easy to get the moss-head to let out whines that sounded foreign on his lips, arching his back to the pleasure.  

Zoro was never someone who was submissive, but this heat was rendering his brain to nothing but mush. Mush that wanted the omega above him so bad. To live inside him and grab his body, pull him in and never let go. To mold their bodies and make him feel as good as he made the green-haired male. To make Sanji feel so good he can’t move, but instead whisper Zoro’s name like a chant- like a prayer. 

Sanji fingered him for a little while longer, slicking his hand until it was sopping. He pulled it back and licked along his digits, taking it into his mouth and making eye contact as he sucked. He looked overjoyed to taste the moss-head, wanting so badly to dive inside and eat him up. Devour him on a platter and never come up for air.  

“God, fuck me already,” Roronoa leaned his head back, turning it to rest on one of his shoulders as they gazed upon each other. The other loved to be a brat, loved to tease, even though they were both aware they both wanted to break the distance.  

Sanji knew that all too well, leaning forward to press a kiss on his lover's nose, “Be patient. I’m gonna make you feel so good…” His hand spread Roronoa apart as his legs shifted, the left hooking overtop the others right. They molded together, as he leaned forward and pressed their pussies together. His outer vulva and bottom growth rubbed circles along Zoro’s cunt, all with slow jerks of his hips. Wetness upon wetness squelched as the blonde started to ride the other, rocking back and forth continuously to satiate the burning in his lower stomach.  

“A-Ah~ You.. You’re… Oh my god…” Zoro gaped at him, two familiar hands coming to grab at his breasts and fondle them. Fingers squeezed his nipples, causing a surge of pleasure to drop into his aching clit.  

“I’m gonna.. Mm.. I’m gonna fuck you so good…” Sanji whined, pressing further to calm the itch that needed to be scratched deep inside him, “You’re gonna.. F-fuck.. Hahh.. You’re gonna be all taken.. Mm taken ca-care of..ha.. Hahh.. Mari-... Zoro…” His engorged clit found Zoro’s, pressing into it and massaging with the slow grinding of his hips. 

Zoro wrapped his arm around his lover's neck, bringing their faces together, “Sa-Say my name again.” He gritted through a tight jaw, bringing wet kisses to his neck, to his perfect scent gland. It tasted like sugar, becoming nothing more than a muddled shell of itself after he licked on it, kissed it, even nibbled a bit.  

The blonde moaned, “Z-Zoro… Fuck..” He squeezed Zoro’s tits together, digging his fingernails into the skin, picking up his pace, “Zoro… You’re doing so good..”  

“Y-Yeah?” He breathed out, wrenching Sanji into an open-mouthed kiss, tilting his head to tongue-fuck him with no remorse. They thrashed together, taking each other in- drinking each other in. To taste the blonde omega was better than any wine, any beer, anything he’d ever drank before. Fuck, Zoro needed him in every sense of the word.  

“Yeah,” the man pulled back to marvel at the man quivering underneath him. Slick and wetness dripped down his thighs, smearing against his skin and down into Zoro, melding their bodies together as one, “Zoro.. fuck you’re so-so .. so.. So good..” Their clits were twitching in turn, so full of hedonistic delight it was almost too much. Even still, they wanted more of that hot satisfaction. They needed each other until time ended.  

“Right there.. Yea-a-ah, that’s it,” Roronoa’s hand snaked to his lover's hip, pleading him to grind harder. It gripped his partner's skin and moved him, grating their heats together. His core was so close, so full to snapping and releasing fluids all over themselves. The coil that had wrapped itself in his stomach, buried deep with warmth was about to explode, dripping hot slick as they humped.  

“Please,” Sanji mewled, pressing their foreheads together, “Fuck I need this.. I need you.. I need.. Zoro.. Z-Zoro I need you,” tears were streaming down his cheeks, rutting his pussy as quickly as he could to get some gratification. If Zoro had any mind he’d be making fun of him, but his brain was so drunk off of his omegas scent he couldn’t do anything more than moan and attempt to jerk his hips in tandem.  

“I’m here,” he cooed, his free left hand coming to grab the blondes which were doing nothing more than flicking the others nipples. Their fingers interlaced and pressed into the mattress that creaked beneath their moving bodies, squeezing each other. The squeeze was to say this is real, at least they hoped it was. They both hoped this was reality and not some hyper realistic dream. Not something they could ever wake up from. 

“I-I need you,” Vinsmoke keened, thrusting his honeypot against Zoro’s, hitting that perfect spot. The green-haired male was so close to coming undone, pressing himself into the mattress for some kind of leverage. Something to keep that feeling going, that perfect angle that was making him barely hold back.  

“Y-Yeah.. I-I need you too.. f-f..mm.. Shit I’m.. I’m..” Zoro stuttered, his head falling back to loll against the bed.  

Within the minute he felt himself crash, coming undone and releasing his fluids against his lover. It was warm and it was sticky, coming out in squelching waves. He groaned, the hand on Sanji’s hip coming up to grab his omega behind the neck and bring him down into a kiss. It was something more tender than before, something touching- No, not touching, something intimate. Something that combined their souls and made them one, once and for all.  

His pussy was so sensitive as the omega kept humping him, mushing their folds together and using his spare hand to slide his fingers between the two for more friction. He found Zoro’s clit and started to rub on it, scissoring it between two fingers to get that delicate spot that melted underneath his touch.  

“I’m so close,” the blonde let out a cry, “God, I’ve- I’ve wanted this for so long,” his voice rasped against his throat. This was better than any vibrator or any dildo, any rabbit or any rose toy. It was hot flesh rubbing against hot flesh for some kind of release they both could give, they both knew they could. And they wanted to. Holy hell, he wanted to cum all over Zoro and fuck it back inside him.  

When Sanji did cum it was louder than his lover. His hips sputtered in tune, hot liquid dripping from his urethra on top of Zoro’s sloppy mound. It felt so good and freeing, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. As if the pleasure building in his gut exploded and cascaded down his front, into his core and flooded back into his face. He tried not to stop, to keep going but it was so much, too much for him.  

Without speaking, the blonde scooted back from the others cunt, much to a loud protest. He tried to gather as much of their joint slick on his fingers as he could, before sticking digit after digit inside Zoro. He was going to fuck his hot slick right back inside his omega if it killed him. Vinsmoke was going to fuck him so good, make his first heat so good. Make every second of side stepping and awkward banter worth it so they could consummate their love once and for all.  

“S-Sanji…” Zoro groaned, pressing his hips into the mattress and letting his back lift just a bit, “Wh… Mmm.. Don’t- f-fuck… Don’t stop..” He whined, something new but, fuck, it was hot. God, he was so hot when he was disheveled and begging for more. When he was covered in sweat and slick. When his pussy was throbbing and swollen, mercilessly begging for it to end but aching for it to continue. When his face was contorting into expressions, they both knew he couldn’t control, eyes crossing and tongue lapping out the side of his mouth.  

“Good.. g-good boy. Yeah, that’s it… You like my fingers?” Sanji smiled, letting four fingers get swallowed by his lover's pink walls.  

“Don’t get.. C-cocky,” the first time the whole night Zoro was conscious enough to make some sort of comeback, that was quickly drowned out with his mewling and whimpering for more, “Sanjiii,” he exhaled, “Fuck, you d.. Mm do so good.”  

Sanji leaned down, letting his tongue graze his marimo’s quivering clit as his fingers pumped in and out of his pussy, “Is this too much?” His tone was teasing but his question was genuine, beckoning an answer out of the other with another lick to that oh-so sensitive clitoris.  

“M-more… whole hand..” Zoro mumbled, nodding his head and spreading his legs back with his hands. He brought his knees up, holding his calves to his thighs to give Sanji better access to his pretty little core. Sanji, who slowly stopped fingering the other man to stare at him inquisitively.  

“Whole… hand?” He repeated, but he nodded.  

The four fingers were soon replaced by five when his thumb came to gently work his lover open, letting his knuckles pass through gummy walls. Sanji pinched his hand together, targeting that perfect g-spot that was swollen to the touch. It was just behind his clitoris and begging to be stroked and pet, begging to be abused by his digits. The slick made it incredibly easy to squeeze inside Zoro, painting the new omega’s thighs in clear wetness that the blonde couldn’t help but eye.  

Zoro let out a moan when his lover started to fist-fuck him, gently dragging his hand in and out past his entrance to stimulate his core. And he let out another moan when Sanji’s mouth found his inner right thigh, sucking and licking along the skin to clean up that mess. It wasn’t just open-mouthed kisses, fuck, he was making out with the skin. Passion behind his mouth as he bit and teased, licked, kissed, and sucked tenderly. His spare left hand came up on the front of his omega's thigh to his knee, then back down, sending goosebumps throughout the other.  

“You.. A-Ah~ God,” his groan was guttural, coming deep inside his chest, “You’re.. ha..hah.. I’m.. mm.. Shit..” Within seconds of being fucked with one whole hand, Zoro was cuming and squirting his hot wetness onto his lover. It came out in quick bursts, lightly spraying from his pussy and barely missing Sanji’s face.  

Although, the blonde wouldn’t have minded tasting him, especially when he was so lust-drunk on the moss-heads … everything. Everything Zoro did was making the omega ache, deep inside his bones. Even without the guise of it being purely sexual, it made him throb. He was full of pure unbridled affection for the idiot beneath him, who stared at Sanji as if he was looking at an angel on Earth for the first time in his life.  

Sanji slowly pulled out of him, making sure not to hurt him as he continued. When the other was emptied of fingers, that was when his lover leaned up and kissed him. Just as gentle and intimate as before, even more so now. They were bound, they were bound until time stopped. There was nothing that could tear their bond apart and create a rift between their bodies, between their souls. A hand came to cradle Zoro’s face, placing peck after peck on his smiling lips.  

“I love you,” Sanji smiled into the kiss, letting his teeth brush against his lovers, “I really love you.” His mouth trailed to Zoro’s eyes, kissing the lids and dragging down to his cheeks. He placed deliberate kisses on his face that were inching toward that new scent gland on his lover's neck.  

“I love you too,” their bodies entangled together in the pool of their wetness and slick, as Zoro’s heat finally began to subside. It would only be for now, but he’d relish in these gentle touches he was getting until he was blinded by arousal again. 

“You’re not just saying that ‘cause of your heat?” He heard the blonde omega murmur, laying atop his roommate and pressing his nose against the new scent gland. It was a foreign feeling to Roronoa, but it was pleasurable. More relaxing in this context, more soothing.  

Zoro wrapped his arms around the others back, letting his hands rest on the small of his back, “Definitely not.” He exhaled when Sanji licked a stripe against his gland, practically tasting the blonde's sweetness on his tongue. It became more prominent as he was scented, letting his eyes flutter closed to the calming sensation.  

“I wasn’t lying,” Vinsmoke muttered into the gland, bringing one finger to trace around the edge, “I really have wanted this for a long time.”  

“Honestly, me too,” the moss-head let out a yawn and nuzzled his head against his lovers, getting a low chuckle in response.  

“You have such a way with words,” he teased, pulling back to face Zoro again. The omegas hands came up and cupped his face, relishing in the warmth that radiated off of him, “I love you.”  

“I love you,” Zoro smiled back at him. Maybe being an omega wasn’t such a bad thing after all… 

[some-little-infamy]

Hear It In Your Voice

(For @mariknickerbocker from @rainbow-nerdss through @911actionforgaza) (Read on AO3)

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" Josh answers the call just like he answers every call, his tone calm and attentive.

"Dispatch, this is Detective Ransone," comes a male voice on the other end of the line. There's background noise of cars driving by and people talking, some yelling, so Josh strains to hear the officer's words. "I'm at the corner of 16th and Olympic Boulevard in Santa Monica, and there's a pedestrian hit by a car in the crosswalk. Driver fled but I managed to see partial plates, Tango-Sierra-One-Three. I'm off-duty, but this guy needs an ambulance."

Josh types as the Detective speaks, listening as they run through the typical rundown of questions they're both all too familiar with.

"There's an ambulance and police car en route to your location. Sargeant Grant says that if you wanted to see her so badly on your day off you should've just stopped in," Josh adds, relaying the message from the responding officer.

Ransone laughs on the other end of the line. "Thank you, dispatch. Tell her I'll keep that in mind next time."

The call ends, and Josh is left with a small smile over the exchange.

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

"9-1-1 what's your emergency?" Josh asks, fingers poised over the keyboard.

"I think someone’s breaking into my house," comes a child's small, shaking voice. "I heard the glass break, but I'm home alone. I'm not supposed to be, but my friend got sick and I had to come home early and-"

"That's okay. You're not in trouble. Can you tell me your name and where you are?" Josh asks, lowering his voice a little.

"Michelle, but everyone calls me Shelly," she explains. "I don't like Michelle."

"Alright, Shelly. And where are you?"

"Home. My mom made me memorize the address in case I ever got lost. It's 1421 Moss Street."

Josh types the address and only gets one hit - a small miracle.

"Dispatch, be I have a break-in and potential robbery in progress at 1421 Moss Street. Caller is a young girl home alone..."

Josh switches his mic back to the 9-1-1 line. "Shelly, how old are you?"

"I'm five," the voice answers. He can tell she's trying to sound braver than she probably feels.

He switches back to the police line. "Caller is a five-year-old girl home alone."

"Dispatch, this is Detective Ransone, I'm about three minutes away from that location and en route."

"Thank you, Officer," Josh says before switching the line back.

"Shelly, what room are you in?" Josh asks her. "And is it somewhere you can find a good hiding spot to stay quiet and out of sight?"

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and Josh imagines her scanning.

"I'm upstairs in my room. I can hide in my closet! I just have to move Suzie's-" she pauses. "Suzie!"

Josh winces at the rise in her voice. "Shelly, I need you to keep your voice low, okay? Whisper."

"I have to go get Suzie! She's downstairs!" Shelly says, and Josh hears the panic in her tone.

"Who is Suzie?" Josh asks, already typing 'possible second child in the home-' when she speaks again.

"My cat! She's my responsibility, Mom and Dad always remind me. I have to go get her!"

Josh hears the sound of footsteps and it takes everything in him not to be the one with the panic in his voice.

"Shelly, please, stay where you are. Go to the closet."

"I will! Right after I get Suzie," Shelly says. "I'll be quiet, I promise," she adds, as if eager to please both Josh and her own need to get to the cat.

Josh flips his radio over. "Be advised, Shelly is currently going downstairs to retrieve her cat. I'm doing my best to convince her not to, but she isn't listening. I repeat, the six-year-old girl is going towards the sound of the break-in."

"45 seconds out," Detective Ransone says, as much a confirmation of his location as a reassurance for Josh. "I'm almost there."

Josh hears a scream on the phone.

"Shelly? SHELLY?"

"GET AWAY FROM SUZIE!" Josh hears the phone drop, hears the sound of Shelly yelling and a cat meowing, and what sounds like a grown man speaking.

"Detective Ransone, I've lost contact. She... I couldn't stop her..."

Josh listens to the radio communications between Ransone and the PD. He hears the sound of a door being burst through, more footsteps, more confusion. There's yelling, the sounds of a fight, and the sound of Shelly screaming. Josh doesn't realize he's holding his breath until he hears Ransone's voice say, "Dispatch, be advised that the suspect is in custody and the girl and her cat are both unharmed."

Josh sighs. The sound of the officer's voice sounds like safety, it sounds like protection and relief. Josh makes a mental note of the name of the officer who made sure Josh didn't go home today with a loss on his mind.

"Thank you," he says, knowing he came dangerously close to letting that call get the best of him.

"Thank you, Detective."

The call disconnects.

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

Josh knows better than to get attached to the voices on the other end of the phone, whether it's the civilians calling in for help or the officers responding to help them. He knows better... but knowing something and doing something aren't the same thing. And feeling something can't be helped at all.

Josh can't help that there are people he gets along with better than others. He can't help that he develops a rapport with some officers more than others. He can't help it when sometimes hearing a particular officer's name brings a small smile to his face, while at the same time, a little extra fear to his heart when the calls take a turn for the worse.

Athena is one of them, in large part due to her connection to May and Maddie. But Detective Ransone is quickly becoming another. He just seems like he means well - like he's willing to do the right thing no matter the cost. And that should be all cops, but it isn't. Josh knows that. But it is Ransone, and that means something, at least to Josh.

---------

Josh knows that serious calls are the whole point of the job. Sure, it's mostly mundane things like someone losing a pet or calling in a fender bender - things that could easily go to a local number if the people calling thought to look it up instead of dialing the only one they know by heart. But every once and a while there's a call that only 9-1-1 could handle - and today, that call comes to Josh.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" Josh asks. Sometimes the greeting is so instinctive that he nearly answers his personal phone with them when he's off work.

The words that come through the phone are so low he has to plug his left ear closed to block out the sounds of the room around him, straining to listen.

"There are men with guns. We're being held hostage. First Bank. Broadway. I can't keep the phone near me so I can't hear anything you say. I don't even know if you can hear me, but I had to try."

Josh hears voices in the background demanding that cell phones be thrown into the center of the room, one at a time. The voices get closer, and then he hears the rustling of the phone that called him being pulled out of a pocket, and then a terrible sound that Josh has to assume is the phone sliding across a floor. Everything is muffled, but still there.

She must've slid the phone face-down, so they didn't see it was on. Josh can still hear - not everything, and not well, but he has ears in the room.

"I need officers at the First Bank on Broadway. There is a potential robbery in progress, an active hostage situation. The caller could only relay minimal information before her phone was taken from her but it is still on. Hostage takers are unaware I can hear inside the room. I advise going in sirens off - as of right now they're unaware any alarm has been raised."

Josh's voice shakes slightly and he curses himself for letting it show. Josh blinks and every time his eyes close he's transported back to when the call center was taken hostage, helpless and weak and--

Josh shakes the thoughts from his head the best he can.

"Dispatch this is Detective Ransone. I'm five minutes out, redirecting now."

"I have very few details, Detective," Josh says. "All I know for certain is that there are more than two men and at least one has a gun. I'm unaware of any demands they may have, how many there are, or... or anything, really. So be safe going in there, okay?"

Josh knows he's crossing a line, but he can't help it. He hates sending officers into situations when he should have the information they need to do their job and he doesn't, even when it's no fault of his own. He didn't get to speak with the caller at all, let alone ask the right questions, or any questions.

"I'll keep listening to what I can and let you know if I get anything helpful," Josh adds, turning his attention back to the open line.

Everything is still muffled, and the sound of footsteps echoing through the floor makes up most of the sound that Josh can hear.

"If I don't.. with access to a vault... right now, I'm.... hurting people."

Words are missing, but Josh makes out enough to get the gist of it.

"Detective Ransone, one of the hostage takers is demanding access to the vault and threatening the hostages if denied."

"I'm here, dispatch. I'm approaching the building to see if I can see in any of the windows-"

Just then, Josh hears the sound of a gunshot echoing in both his line coming through the caller's cell phone and the radio Detective Ransone has on his person. Josh flinches.

"I'm going in," Ransone says.

"Backup is still 5 minutes out, we don't know how many are in there or if they'll-"

"Tell backup I'm going to try and control the situation the best I can before any lives are lost."

"Be careful," Josh says. The words come out before he can stop them. "Detective," he adds, as if the title might make the comment a little less out of place.

The next words Josh hears also echo between the line from Ransone and the phone on the floor of the bank lobby. "I'm coming in! I'm unarmed, and my hands will be up. I just want to talk!"

"Cops? Is that a fucking- WHO CALLED THE POLICE? WE SAID NO COPS!"

Josh tenses.

Backup is still minutes out. Josh silently curses these damn cops who insist on riding without partners.

"Hey hey hey!" That's the sound of Ransone's voice, Josh knows it from the others immediately. "Put the knife down!"

For a second, Josh feels like he forgot how to breathe. It’s all he can do to listen, imagining the scene unfolding, unable to do anything to help.

----

The second Lou feels the knife pressed against his throat he thinks he's going to black out. A noise escapes his mouth that isn't dignified, something closer to a whimper than a squeak. He hates the way his pulse races, his heartbeat jumping up into his throat, the pit of his stomach turning to lead.

"Hey, hey! Put the knife down!" Each word is spoken carefully, not wanting to accidentally push the knife further into his flesh.

The man does not put the knife down, however. He doesn't press any harder, but he keeps it right where it is against Lou's neck. Lou struggles to control his breathing, careful not to swallow too fast or make any jarring motions above the shoulder while he's in this precarious spot.

"It's just me. I'm unarmed. I just want to talk," Lou repeats. "No one has to get hurt here - not me, not you, and not any of these innocent civilians." Every word is slow and even, although he feels anything but steady.

"I don't believe you," the man says. Lou can't take in much - the men have masks over their noses and mouths. They're speaking in tones forced lower than their usual speaking voices, though he doesn't know if they were doing that before his arrival or not.

"I have no reason to lie - no reason to walk myself into a room of armed men - other than to help these people," Lou insists.

He keeps his eyes and ears peeled, reading the people around him the best he can despite the way his fear clouds his senses. He won't find himself unaware again, he won't make the wrong judgment call about someone twice. He can’t afford to.

There are no sirens in the distance. Whether that's because they're still following the directive to come in silently to catch the hostage takers by surprise, or because they simply aren't here yet... He doesn't allow his mind to consider the option that they aren't coming, because he knows they are. This isn't like before. He's going to be okay. At the very least there will be witnesses this time. There are people who know who he is and where he is.

He hates that it's a thought that even crosses his mind, especially because seconds later he hears the sirens in the distance.

"You said you were alone!" The man with the knife practically growls, his voice low, the threat behind his words clear.

"I am! Right now. Judging from the volume of those sirens you guys have approximately five minutes to leave before there are enough cops outside to cover every possible exit to this place," Lou says. "If I were you, I'd hurry."

There's a moment of hesitation, the silence hanging heavy in the air.

"You said this would be quick and easy. I'm not up for a standoff, man," says one of the others. He starts to make his way toward the door slowly at first, then at a run at the increasingly loud sound of the approaching sirens. After one caves it isn't long until the others follow. Lou feels the knife against his neck press hard enough to draw blood, wondering if it's resting against the scar that's already there before the armed man gives a quick sigh of frustration and takes off after the others.

Lou feels tears spring up in his eyes, tears of relief, tears of the panic and fear he did his best to push down and ignore finally able to wash over him in waves despite his safety. He allows himself a moment of unsteadiness before he wipes them away with the side of his sleeve and puts his mask back on.

"Is anyone hurt?" he asks, turning around.

"You let them get away!" A man from behind the counter points out, confused and indignant. "They took my wallet!"

"Oh, I'm sure they didn't get far," Lou says, smiling slightly. "I may have lied about the sirens."

Lou glances out the glass panes of the front door to see exactly what he hoped to witness- the suspects, nearly to the end of the road, are being pinned down by cops who were already here and waiting with their sirens off. Protocol. The sirens they heard were likely just another cop on their way to another call at the perfect time for him.

No one admits to being injured, so Lou takes up his walkie again.

"Dispatch this is Detective Ransone. No injuries to report and I believe all suspects are currently being detained outside. We're clear for backup and medical to come in."

It'd be hours before Lou leaves the scene, but he takes a back seat while the others work. His mind is too unfocused and too lost in his thoughts to remain focused during statements.

When he tries to sleep that night it comes late, restless, and plagued with nightmares that leave him jolting awake in a cold sweat.

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

There isn't much Josh can do after Detective Ransone goes inside. He directs backup to the best spots around the entrances and exits of the bank, advises on potential alleys or streets they may cut through if they run, and keeps his ears peeled for anything else he may hear through the woman's cell phone.

He listens to Lou's voice and hears the change that he's certain no one else in the room will notice… but Josh notices. He notices, and he tries not to think too hard about the way his chest tightens at the sound.

That night Josh goes to a Victim Support Group meeting. It isn't his first, and he knows it won't be his last, but while the other times were helpful to varying degrees he always felt like he was doing it just to be safe, to have a place to talk when he wanted to, not that he needed to. Tonight is different. This is the first time he's felt like he needs to be here. His mind's been on overdrive since the call earlier, unable to shake the memories of his hostage situation from work. It's been a while since he thought about it with this much detail, or since the memory of his past fear took over his senses the way it had today.

He's still shaky, if he's honest, when he goes into the meeting that night to talk. He's just as unsettled when he goes back three days later. It’s the first time he's gone to two meetings back-to-back since his very first ones.

Josh is no stranger to the group. He talks to some of the others before the meeting, grabbing the stereotypical cup of terrible coffee in a white styrofoam cup while asking about Chad's oldest who is going off to college this year, or Ginny's husband's cancer. Josh has been a pretty frequent face since his attacks, sometimes just coming here to listen and remember that he isn't alone in the way he's feeling.

When the meeting starts Josh doesn't speak first because there's a new face in the group and Victor, the group leader, asks if he'd like to introduce himself and say why he's here.

"I'm, uh... Lou."

Josh's eyes widen. He knows that voice immediately. It's strange hearing it clearly and not through the static of the comms, but it's undeniable. Lou Ransone.

"My name's Lou," Lou says, sounding like he's never been asked to talk about himself before. "I'm not much of a talker, but my Captain suggested... I got into a bit of a situation at work the other day, and it... it messed me up. It got in my head, and I guess I just... I don't know. I'm not good at talking. I won't tell this stuff to anyone, and I'm not sure I'll talk much here, but... I wanted to be here, at least. Is that okay, for now?"

"Of course it is, Lou. Welcome. You can share as much or as little as you'd like at any point," Victor informs Lou.

Josh wrestles with the idea of telling Lou who he is, wondering if Lou would make the same connection as Josh did the second Josh opens his mouth.

Josh decides that he'll just talk. No need to put Lou on the spot in front of all these people. If Lou wants to, they can talk later.

"Hey everyone. Most of you know me, but I'm Josh. Long story short, I started coming here after I was attacked on a date, and then my attackers proceeded to hold the call center I work at hostage with the badge they stole from me," Josh begins. "Recently, I was working a hostage call and it brought me right back to when I was curled up on the ground of my own hostage experience. I couldn't shake the fear, I couldn't stop reliving my own experience every time I heard a raised voice or a whimpering victim over the line. I keep telling myself I should be over it, but that sort of thing... it stays with you. And you have days when you don't think about it at all, and you have days you can think about it and let it go, but... it's so easy to let something like that take over your life. I've been looking over my shoulder again. I canceled a date I had set up for tomorrow. It sucks. It fucking sucks, but I always feel better talking about it here. So thanks, I guess, for putting up with me so often," he adds, mostly joking, with a small laugh to punctuate his last sentence.

As Josh speaks he looks around the group, but his gaze keeps returning to Lou. Josh can see the realization dawn on him slowly at first, then all at once when Josh explains the call he took for work. Josh offers him a small half-smile of acknowledgment when they lock eyes.

"You know we don't 'put up' with you, Josh," Victor says, shaking his head in amusement. "And we appreciate you sharing. Who's next?"

Josh chimes in a bit to react to the stories of others, but Lou doesn't speak for the rest of the meeting. Josh half-expects him to bolt the second the group dismisses for the night, but he doesn't. Lou lingers and makes his way toward Josh.

"You're the dispatcher from my hostage call," Lou says. It isn’t a question.

“I am,” Josh confirms. “Nice to meet you in person, Detective Ransone. I wish it was under better circumstances, but���”

“Please, just call me Lou,” Lou says.

“Alright, Lou,” Josh says, testing the name out on his tongue.

“Listen, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone you saw me here,” Lou says. “It’s just… all of this…” he trails off, struggling to find the words.

“I get it,” Josh says. “No one knows I still go to these either.”

“Really?” Lou asks, eyebrow raised. “You seem so comfortable with all of this.”

“I am when I’m here,” Josh admits. “It’s why I come. Everyone else seemed to move on so easily, and I just… didn’t.” He doesn’t know why he keeps it a secret - they all got counseling, and they were all given the same resources. He saw a co-worker or two here at the beginning, even if he’s the only one still going. Maybe he’s embarrassed to be the only one bothered by it, even if it was more personal to him than anyone else so it makes sense that he’s still affected.

“My Captain is the only one who knows I’m here. Him and you, I guess,” Lou admits.

“Well, your secret’s safe with me,” Josh promises. “It’s a good group. Good people. I think you’ll like it if you stick around.”

“I don’t know…” Lou says. “I’m not a very open person. I don’t know if I can just tell a room full of strangers how it feels to have a knife pulled on me again after-” Lou cuts off abruptly as if catching himself about to be vulnerable and thinking better of it.

“Or you could start by just talking to me, maybe? Over drinks?” Josh asks. He doesn’t know where the sudden rush of boldness comes from, but he embraces it in the moment. “Or maybe just better coffee than this stuff? You don’t even have to talk about the call. We can just… talk.”

Lou considers the offer, then nods once. “Yeah. I can do that,” he says. “I think I’d like that, actually.”

They understand each other, to some extent. They know each other, maybe not in person, but through situations that create a stronger bond than simply hanging out. They get each other on a level deeper than surface coworker interactions…

Josh isn’t sure if Lou’s agreeing because he needs someone to talk to, or because he feels the same connection that Josh does. Either way, this is the start of something new, and it’s a road that Josh is eager to follow and see where it leads.