#Matter-Eater Land

[sebeth]

Where'd Mordru Go?

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Fishy Business

Word count: 1.4k

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: you are Lando Norris' girlfriend, determined to get him to try fish despite his stubborn refusal

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Lando Norris, your boyfriend and an undeniable force on the Formula 1 circuit, was also the most stubborn eater you’d ever encountered. For all his daring maneuvers on the track, he approached food with the caution of someone facing a life-threatening situation. His diet was the carefully curated mix of nutrients and proteins that a professional athlete needed to stay in peak condition, but there was one thing you couldn’t get him to eat: fish.

It wasn’t that he was allergic or that he’d had a bad experience with it in the past—Lando simply detested the idea of eating fish. The mere mention of it had him crinkling his nose in distaste. You’d tried multiple times to introduce it into his meals, always to be met with that same stubborn resistance. It was the one challenge he refused to take on, no matter how much you teased or coaxed him.

But tonight, you were determined to change that.

You had carefully planned the meal, choosing a recipe that would be impossible for anyone, even Lando, to resist. The centerpiece was a perfectly seared salmon fillet, seasoned with lemon, garlic, and herbs—flavors you knew he loved in other dishes. You’d paired it with his favorite roasted vegetables and a light, refreshing salad, hoping that the overall appeal of the meal might disguise the fact that the main course was, in fact, fish.

As you set the table, the delicious aroma filled the kitchen, making your mouth water. You knew Lando would be home soon, fresh from a day at the simulator, and you were eager to see how he’d react. Would he recognize the scent immediately, or would he only realize what was on his plate once he sat down?

The door creaked open, and you heard the familiar sound of Lando’s keys hitting the table in the hallway. He called out for you, his voice light and filled with the warmth that never failed to make your heart flutter.

“Hey, love, where are you?”

“In the kitchen!” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual, as if you weren’t plotting to get him to finally eat something he’d spent his whole life avoiding.

Lando appeared in the doorway, still in his workout gear, looking adorably disheveled with a few strands of hair falling into his eyes. He grinned when he saw you, walking over to wrap his arms around your waist and press a kiss to your forehead.

“Something smells amazing,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a mix of hunger and affection.

You turned in his arms to face him, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. “I made dinner. I think you’re going to love it.”

He gave you a skeptical look, his nose twitching slightly as he sniffed the air again. “What is it?”

“Why don’t you sit down and find out?” you teased, gently pushing him toward the dining table.

Lando raised an eyebrow but complied, taking his seat and looking at the beautifully arranged plate in front of him. The roasted vegetables and salad caught his attention first, but then his gaze landed on the salmon, and you saw the exact moment he realized what it was.

“Is this… fish?” he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and mild horror.

You nodded, doing your best to keep your expression innocent. “It’s salmon. It’s really good for you, Lando. High in protein, rich in omega-3s—all the stuff you need to stay fit and healthy.”

He looked at you like you’d just suggested he eat a plate of raw liver. “You know I don’t eat fish,” he said, pushing the plate slightly away as if it might bite him.

You placed a hand on his, your touch gentle and persuasive. “You’ve never even tried it, babe. How do you know you don’t like it?”

“I just… know,” he replied, his voice lacking the usual confidence he had when making decisions. “The smell, the texture… it’s just not for me.”

You tilted your head, giving him a look that you knew he had a hard time resisting. “But you trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Lando said immediately, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to figure out where this was going.

“Then trust me when I say you’ll like this,” you said, your voice dropping to a soft, almost seductive tone. “Just one bite. For me?”

He hesitated, clearly torn between his aversion to fish and his desire to please you. You could see the internal battle playing out on his face, and you decided it was time to up the ante. Slowly, you stood up and walked around the table, stopping behind him. You leaned down, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you whispered, “If you try it, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Lando shivered under your touch, his breath hitching slightly. You could feel the tension in his shoulders as he considered your offer. He was being stubborn, as usual, but you knew you were close to winning him over.

With a dramatic sigh, he finally picked up the fork, speared a small piece of the salmon, and lifted it to his mouth. You watched as he hesitated one last time before taking the bite, his eyes closing as if bracing himself for the worst.

He chewed slowly, his expression shifting from one of grim determination to mild surprise. After a moment, he swallowed and set the fork down, looking up at you with a mix of resignation and amusement.

“It’s… not as bad as I thought,” he admitted reluctantly, his voice laced with a hint of defeat.

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He chuckled, leaning back into your embrace. “Okay, you win. But I’m still not eating another bite.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, your lips grazing his earlobe again. “Just one more bite? For me?”

Lando sighed, but you could tell he was starting to relent. “You really don’t play fair, do you?”

“Never,” you whispered, your voice low and suggestive. “But you like it when I don’t.”

His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you around to sit on his lap. You let out a soft laugh as you straddled him, your hands resting on his chest as you gazed down at him. “I knew you’d be stubborn about this,” you said, your voice teasing.

“I’m not stubborn,” he replied, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer. “I just know what I like.”

“And you like me, right?” you asked, leaning in so your lips were just inches from his.

“More than anything,” Lando murmured, his eyes darkening with desire as he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a slow, heated kiss.

You responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of warmth and sweetness that made your head spin. Lando’s hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer as the kiss grew more passionate, more demanding.

When you finally pulled back for air, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads pressed together as you tried to regain some semblance of control. But the hunger in Lando’s eyes told you that any attempt at restraint was futile.

“I tried the fish,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “Now, about that reward…”

You grinned, trailing your fingers down his chest, feeling the way his breath hitched under your touch. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” you replied, your voice filled with promise. “But first, you have to finish your dinner.”

Lando groaned, dropping his head back against the chair in exasperation. “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you said, your tone playful but firm. “But just think about how good the reward will be when you do.”

He sighed dramatically but picked up the fork again, spearing another small piece of salmon and bringing it to his mouth. You watched with satisfaction as he chewed and swallowed, his expression less pained than before.

“See? It’s not so bad,” you teased, leaning in to kiss him again, this time softer, more lingering.

Lando hummed against your lips, his free hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m only doing this for you,” he murmured between kisses. “You know that, right?”

You smiled, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “I know. And that’s why I love you.”

His expression softened at your words, a warm, adoring smile spreading across his face. “I love you too,”

[faintjellyfish]

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐔$$𝐘 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 ꨄ

❥ infamous sorcerer killer? nah. infamous pussy eater.

𝐚/𝐧: 18+ mdni, not proof read, enjoy 🤭

𝐰𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐧𝐭: about 904?

Thinking about how much Toji would enjoy eating pussy. So much that his title should be changed from ‘the infamous “Sorcerer Killer”’ to the infamous pussy eater. Not like he would mind anyway. It was something he enjoyed. Highly. Whether it be for you or for him. It was the way he went about it.

Sometimes he did it during sex. Or when he was stressed and wanted you to spread out for him. And sometimes he used it as punishment if you were being a little too bratty for his liking. Holding your thighs apart and lapping at your sopping cunt, but refusing to let you cum. And if you did get the chance to, he wouldn’t stop. No matter how much you begged and pleaded, saying you were overstimulated. He didn’t care. He wasn’t finished until he was satisfied. He’d say something like—

“Not stopping til’ I want to, pretty girl”

“Stop whining and let me finish”

But something you did love, was when he’d have your face down and ass in the air so he could eat it from the back. He loved eating you that way. Hell, love is an understatement. You could always tell when he wanted to.

“Put that pretty ass up f’me”

“Get on all fours”

“Raise those hips”

No questions asked, you’d always comply. He’d get behind you and admire how pretty your pussy was. How small and delicate your hole looked, just waiting to be licked and fucked with his tongue. He always loved how you’d get wet so easily for him.

“Shiiit, baby… So wet for for me already?” He’d say with a slight chuckle.

Toji spreads your ass with his thumbs, holding you in a firm grip. He always started with that sensitive clit of yours. Giving it kisses and letting your wetness string from his lips. Occasionally teasing it with small cat licks. Doing rings around it with his tongue and smirking at the small whines of pleasure you’d make.

He’d run his tongue up and down your cunt, coating his tongue in your slick. The taste drove him crazy. You tasted so fucking good. So sweet. He couldn’t help himself. Immediately his tongue would dig into your dripping, tight hole. Oh, the cries you’d let out.

He got a thrill from it. You letting him fuck you like this so easily. Plunging his muscle in and out of you with slight aggression. Hearing the wet noises your cunt made against his tongue.

Toji’s hand strikes down on your ass, making you mewl. Now this, was his favorite part about eating you from this position. Being able to hear you cry because you couldn’t handle the feeling of being ate and having your ass abused at the same time. God, he loved watching that pretty ass turn red. Repeatedly slapping his hand on it, then gently kneading at the flesh.

You’d beg him not to slap so hard. But that just made him want to smack your ass even harder. All while he pumps his tongue in and out of your poor, aching cunt. Clenching around him at the euphoria.

He’s lapping up your slick and spitting it back on your pussy before he starts sucking your clit again. Laughing into your flesh cause of how sensitive you are. Only for his hums to send vibrations to your puffed nub and make you whine even more.

It’s getting hot. You’re panting like a dog and biting back moans. But Toji doesn’t like when you hold back. So he completely buries his face in your pussy and toys with your hole. You push your face in the pillow, a deep moan escaping your throat.

“There we go, baby. That’s what I wanna hear”

“Keep making those pretty sounds f’me”

There’s only so much his poor baby can take. You’re starting to get close. And he knows it. Your poor pussy just aching and throbbing, about to release. Hips bucking and pushing up against his face, feeling his tongue dig deeper into you. Another strike lands on your ass. You weep and moan. Telling him not to stop cause you’re gonna cum.

Repeatedly, and needily, pressing your cunt against his face. He spreads your ass further and stiffens his muscle as you do so. Before you know it, you’re grasping at the sheets for something to hold on to. Clenching hard on his tongue once you release.

Mewling as your eyes flutter and slowly keep pressing against his face to ride out your orgasm. Your juices dribbling down his chin. Of course, he laps it up. Drinking all of you, not wanting it to go to waste.

He pulls his face from your cunt and smirks down at you. Seeing the haze in your eyes as you look at him over your shoulder. His hand finds its way back to your ass, massaging it gently. He leans over you.

“Love the way you tasted, princess”

“Tired?”

You’d give a weak nod. Starting to lay on the bed fully. But before you can, he grips your hips tightly.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“You did pretty good, but I think you can do better”

He sits next to you on the bed. Laying down and pulling you onto his lap. You already know what’s gonna happen.

“You’re not gonna cum til’ I tell you to. And this time… You’re gonna sit on my face.”

[mosaiclobster]

Pecking Order (Farmer x Hayden)

I haven't posted fic on tumblr before, but people have been so unexpectedly lovely about this silly fic on AO3 so I thought I'd share it here too 🐔🐣

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House chickens must wear many hats. To Henrietta’s relief, those hats were figurative; she never much cared for the indignities of clothing. Ribbons were another matter, especially ones bestowed on award podiums. She wore those with pride.

But Henrietta was more than a show chicken. She was a house chicken, and that meant she was a pest controller, a therapist, a taskmaster. A friend.

Well, not a friend to all. Hayden was her person, and she didn’t see much need for the rest of them. At least Ryis had a healthy admiration for birds - she let him pet her, on occasion.

The others were hopeless. Balor, Valen, and Errol gave her a wide berth, which was respectful, but none of them ever bothered to bring her treats. Celine did, but she was too nervous to feed Henrietta by hand now.

She hadn’t meant to peck the girl. It was a simple misunderstanding, one a flattened palm would’ve solved.

March was the worst of all. He didn’t address her by name, only as “chicken.” When she pecked him, she meant it.

But then, there was this new person. “The Farmer.”

Henrietta considered the nickname an impertinence. Hayden was the farmer in Mistria. His people had worked this land for generations.

Henrietta Jubilation Featherbottom knew something about legacies. She was a part of the most award winning lineage to ever grace chickendom. She’d raised a whole brood of blue ribbon birds, and she had Hayden to thank for that. Any affront to his honor was an attack on her own good name.

Hayden didn’t seem to mind the other farmer, though. He even let the interloper join game night. He broke the news to her over a bowl of popcorn, as if it was only natural to include this fraud. “Used to be an adventurer before settling down here. Imagine the stories!”

An adventurer indeed. Sounded like a rootless, chickenless existence - more of a rogue than a farmer, if you asked her. When their new guest arrived, Henrietta clucked with all the derision she could muster.

In return, she received a handful of wild berries. Palm flat, and steady.

“Nice to meet you, Henrietta.”

Well mannered. That was a surprise.

Hayden gave Henrietta an encouraging pet. “Isn’t that thoughtful?”

She kept a wary eye on the stranger while she plucked and pecked at the ripened fruit. Hayden rubbed at the back of his neck - a nervous habit.

Why should he be nervous? Henrietta studied his kind face, the one she’d known since she broke out of her egg. He was blushing.

“Ah, she’s made a bit of a mess. Sorry about your hand.”

Henrietta trilled, indignant. She was a dainty eater. Juice stains were to be expected, and his embarrassment degraded them both.

The so-called farmer smiled at Hayden, and gave him a rakish wink. “Better berries than monster blood.”

The cheek! But Hayden seemed quite charmed - he hardly noticed their other guests arriving, and the color never quite left his face. Valen even asked if he was feverish.

Amusing jokes, exciting anecdotes, nice manners… by the end of the night, Henrietta had to concede that this new human was well socialized.

Over the next few weeks, a routine took shape. Sweetwater was the fastest route to the museum from the other farm. On the way, offerings were made: berries for Henrietta, and coffee for Hayden. Not every day, but close. Henrietta often joined them at the kitchen table - gossip was her secret joy, and there was plenty to go around. Apparently, Valen was spending an awful lot of time with that witch who ran the bathhouse.

Hayden took a sip of coffee. “Good for them. Life’s meant to be shared, isn’t it?” Henrietta watched his warm brown eyes widen. Hayden coughed, and set his coffee down so hard that it sent a spoon flying. The clatter ruffled Henreitta’s feathers, but she smoothed them for his sake. Poor Hayden was blushing enough already.

“That’s why ranching is so rewarding. I’m glad you decided to get a coop - how are the girls doing so far?”

“They’re great. Thanks for setting up the see-saw, it’s been a big hit.”

Henrietta had met the girls once, under Hayden’s watchful gaze. It was clear they needed a strong matriarch, but Hayden scooped her up before her beak could do its work.

That was alright. Henrietta could be patient - they’d be joining her flock soon enough.

After all, Henrietta was nothing if not perceptive. She knew a courtship when she saw one, even if it lacked the usual dropped wing and dizzying dance. The gifts, the fleeting touches, the lingering looks… honestly, she couldn’t understand what they were waiting for.

Once the leaves began to turn, Hayden confided in her. Not just her - Ryis and Valen were there too. They didn’t equal her in wisdom or tact, but such gatherings were good enrichment for humans. She listened politely, and cooed in agreement when Ryis stated the obvious: “Hayden, we know. Everyone knows. You’ve been attached at the hip all summer.”

More blushing. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Valen shrugged, and swirled her glass of wine. “What’s there to say? We all thought you were already dating.”

Hayden rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, we aren’t. I don’t think so, anyway.”

They all laughed. Or clucked impishly, in Henrietta’s case. Once Ryis recovered, he put a gentle hand on Hayden’s shoulder. “You’d know. The next time you’re together, just speak from the heart. Trust me.”

The four of them were halfway through a fiendish jigsaw puzzle when Errol burst through the front door. Henrietta dropped the piece she was nibbling on and nearly fell off the table in shock - such an entrance!

The man’s face was as white as his beard. He looked absolutely stricken. “Please, come quickly. The mines -”

Henrietta trilled in alarm. Only their semi-retired adventurer would be so foolish. So brave.

The others charged off without her, leaving Henrietta sick with worry. She tore open a bag of premium treats, but the tasty morsels did little to soothe her.

Finally, Hayden returned with Valen and the intrepid patient. Henrietta was ready with a lecture about the dangers of monster hunting, but she received no promises of hanging up the blade. Just a pat on the head, and a crushed berry.

“As your doctor, I can’t advise you to hand feed livestock right now. You’re more prone to infection if she-”

“-she won’t. Here you go, Henrietta. I plucked this off a bush as they were dragging me out of the narrows.”

It was the nicest one she ever tasted.

Naturally, Henrietta was an accomplished nurse. She set to work, nestling at the patient’s feet on the couch while Valen gave Hayden instructions.

“This one has to be taken with food, twice a day. Something simple, like toast.”

Eggs and toast, surely. Henrietta began to doze.

When she awoke a while later, she wasn’t surprised to find another set of feet to warm. The two of them were laying in each other’s arms beneath her favorite checkered blanket.

They were mindful not to disturb her, but Henrietta allowed them their cooing and preening and kissing. Humans were such soft, silly creatures.

And now she had two to look after. Henrietta drifted back to sleep, and added another figurative hat to her collection: matchmaker.

[tarjapearce]

Iridiscent (Pt. 4)

Pirate AU! Miguel O'Hara x Mermaid! Reader

WARNING: Angst, mentions of violence, graphic depictions of violence, mild gore, political implications, character origins, character backgrounds, introduction of character, Greek mythology mentions.

Summary: The aftermath of a mermaid encounter brings an unexpected ally.

A/N: Pirate Miggy is back ❤️

Previous

Mermaids, sea witches, sirens, sea monsters. The latter was the most accurate name for what your mere existence rendered. And now, men eater.

Existing since way before humans understood the concept of civilizations, silent watchers of eons of evolution, yet unfortunate by the simple fact of being.

The permanence of the kin itself was a result of a fateful domino effect the God of the dead had unleashed by being invaded and bewitched by a mortal feeling. Love.

His whim had turned into obsession and this somehow morphed into love. A feeling so strong that made him kidnap the Spring goddess for himself, tired of the miserable companion solitude was in the underworld. And that was the moment everything changed.

The nymphs in charge of their queen's safety were turned into winged beings, as a punishment from none other than Demeter. Her wrath over them, ruthless and merciless as they were forced to look everywhere for their vanishing queen to no avail.

Some of the nymphs had escaped the aftermath to a recluse island, abandoning all purpose of finding Persephone, to follow the whims of their hearts in lieu. Singing and music.

But even so, Demeter's fury had no match, vengeful and blinded by anger she looked for the rebel ones to kill them, but these hid in the sea. Eventually, the feathers hardened, turning into scales. These etched and covered their legs. Securing them in a colorful long tail.

Bird's talons turned into beautiful and deadly hands, that once a prey was caught there was nothing it could do but to accept it's fate. Death.

Damned be Hades and his stupid obsession. Damned be Demeter and her blinding rage, and damned be the men that polluted the earth above with their existing and constant evolving.

Men. The real wretched creatures. The executioners of everything they decided unworthy of living. Stupid beings that played God in a self imposed role in  life's hierarchy.

Creatures that had hunted and killed your kin for ages, forcing to separate and face new dangers at every turn in the endless ocean. Humans, a little too praising title considering their acts and actions were everything but, had forced you to hide in the deepest waters and forbidden lands not many were brave enough to venture in.

A couple of centuries were more than enough for you to have a glimpse of their nature. Destructive, dangerous and merciless. They sullied and tarnished everything unfortunate enough to go under their hands.

They killed everything unknown or deemed too frightening for their existence and had no mercy while at it. The bloodier the better. A disgusting yet necessary example of behavior you had to follow in order to survive.

Humans had shaped your temper. Heart rejoicing at every sunken ship the sea swallowed. Even their flesh had lost the sizzle to be enjoyable enough, making your feeding habits more inclined towards other creatures within the sea.

You didn't eat men because you hated them. You ate them because their hatred had poisoned enough the seas, leaving you without resources, pushing you to consume them. And your refusal had made your body weak, it had been years since your body felt properly satisfied.

You collapsed.

How many days had passed, certainly was unknown. Time under the sea was measured by how long it took for a reef to go completely white, how often the ships let their nets in a single spot. Sometimes you remained on land, sea too dangerous to venture alone.

But none of that mattered anymore. Inanition wasn't exclusive of humans, the last thing in your mind was to curse Hades and the men.

But death escaped and picked you and others alike within a net. Pushing some survival instinct back in you as the net wriggled and broke. Injecting the right amount of life to hand you a buffet in a wooden platter. Gathering your bearings after the little commotion in your head, was quickly overlooked when the attention focused on the scene unfolding.

A ship full of men, that stared in wonder and fear. One of them stood out from the rest. It reminded you of Hercules. His physique unique, just as his eyes. A fine specimen and surely a delicious one. Their language was unknown, but it became clear the moment you kissed the fool before your apparent naive form. Absorbing his knowledge and a little more in that simple gesture. Which was little.

But enough to understand what the men said and whispered around you.

Foul and salty smelling, with a faint tinge of wine. He tasted sour and ashy, but edible enough to sate your rampant huger. You wanted to go for the herculean man in shackles, his scent rich in leather, voice like a soft and firm caress in the back of one's head. His cinnamon toned skin made your mouth water.

You were about to move for him, but Elliot, the idiot infront and your hunger kept you in place. You knew your initial prey would fight and would waste the little reserve of strength you had left. He was no fool.

As moronic as the man on your way  was, he'd save his purpose. The prey was subdued, flesh and bones devoured; bland and tasteless, but well welcomed within your body. Revitalizing energies and restocking the strength you had been lacking for a time.

Expected as it was, they attacked, all by the command of the shackled man, that had dared to injure you with a bullet. But you were too frenzied and hungry to care. Your meal hung in your maws, as you fought to get it off the ship.

Your Hercules watched in horror from afar, and never in your life had you felt more realized and satisfied to provoke such disturbing reaction in a man.

You could almost taste the fear behind his raged and shaky breathing, his shock in every powerful beat his heart did, the denial in his eyes as they widened the more your teeth sank into the corpse. It fueled you. And also ignited with new strength the already flickering purpose of your existence.

Destroy as many of them as possible.

You went under the ship, away from their archaical defense to eat and consume your food. Humans weren't definitely on the top, for a moment the hunter became the prey and didn't survive to brag about his new kill.

Skin and flesh was torn, consumed with such hunger it had you full and completely sated like never before, within matter of minutes. Elliot Jackdaw no longer existed, but served as a reminder that your kin prevailed and endured.

But also, had unleashed a new domino effect you weren't aware of.

The man in shackles, your forsaken greek god, was thrown at the sea. Your territory. You saw him move, fight against the current; trying to free himself from the heavy cuffs that weighed him down and reach back to the ship. And then nothing.

He became still and it made you frown. Where that bravado had gone? The smirk that was about to emerge in your lips faded as soon as a red cloud oozed and swallowed his head.

His scent was too rich and alluring, stagnant almost. Sickly sweet for your senses and he wasn't moving.

If you recalled, he was called a captain. What was a captain doing out of his ship drowning in the sea? Your lip twitched in scowl.

The lack of loyalty among his kindred was another reason to hate them. He wasn't the first nor the last you had saved in these conditions. Mostly women or little children that were expelled without much reasons other than being a burden.

As much as you cursed your heart for not turning its back to these sort of injustices, and your need to have a tiny taste of him, you hauled him up shore. Light as a feather in water, but heavy as lead on land. The heavy iron around his wrist didn't help, so you destroyed it, inflicting little cuts around his flesh in the process.

Ancient eyes scrutinized his form. Sharp cheekbones that could only match a sword. Strong features that screamed fighter in every direction you looked. A jagged and nasty cut on a side of his head, some strands obscuring his face, you removed them and some bloodied debris from his wound, inspecting it.

Not a too deep cut, the contusion of his head against the moving ship had been rough. A single cut in the upper right cheekbone, clothes clung to him like a second skin. His pockets however were too tempting to be left alone.

Sand and water on them, along a shiny pearl that had you staring and sniffing at the trinket for a close inspection, that didn't pay attention to the locket nesting deeper inside. The pearl was true, so you took it as it quickly etched to your skin, under the ribcage as a decor motif of the raggy top you used to cover your chest.

He'd surely serve as one of Aphrodite's lovers. His forearms laced in tiny and fading scars, that also loitered his solid and somewhat hairy chest. A man through and through. A natural enemy of yours, yet you had saved him.

Probably, he would hunt you too, like the scarce quantity of men you had pulled out of danger. The pearl was a token for saving his life.

You could kill him, filling your tabs with another number, but it wouldn't be honorable. Even if you were a different species, you refused to let some of their habits to rub on you. You opposed greatly to be like them, and so with a look that would suppose to be a final one back at him, you dipped back into the sea.

----

He was on land. Alive, heart beating along every single erratic breath. The sea waves washed over his hips, not cold neither lukewarm. Just the ideal temperature for the humid weather

I'm alive.

His mind couldn't comprehend what had happened. One moment he was in the sea, to then hurl himself back up and puke all the salty water his body had unwillingly ingested.

Miguel was dizzy, but alive. Beaten up, but still breathing. Pissed and ever ready to get his treasure back. But he had to recover some energies first.

Sighing and rising slowly, he turned around to kneel in the moist sand. Tiny grains of it etched to his moist skin, they were rough, altering his sensorial touch for a second. Feet finally got the strength to stand up, careful to not let the nauseas get to his head entirely. Skin burned, but he could bear the discomfort, what Miguel truly needed was a big gulp of water.

He remembered the sun being high on the sky, blazing with all it's glory and witnessing his crew marooning him for good. And now it was night. Somehow thankful that he didn't have to deal with the weather's inclemencies. Step by wobbly step he approached to the thickets and palms rooted in the soil, dressing up modestly the land he walked on.

As another wave of nauseas hit while his head pounded, Miguel stopped to rest in a nearby palm. Calloused hand cupping and covering his mouth to prevent the bile and vomit to spill out once more. Dehydrated as he was, Miguel also understood the dangers of drinking too much salty water.

If dehydration didn't kill him, puking too much without having any other resources on reach would. But none of his survival could be done with the unbridled headache that hammered in his head. A side of it was caked in dry blood, like some strands of his already matted and full of sand hair.

With careful steps he ventured in deeper into the jungle, looking for a spot to spent the night away from land's troubles. The island wasn't familiar for him, he didn't even know if it was big enough to harbor sustainable life, or if ships would pass nearby. With a gasp and a frantic move, he palmed his pockets.

Mierda, no! No

Panic rose upon not feeling the pearl, the sudden motion made his steps stutter as he puked, unable to hold it in anymore. But once he was done and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, he searched into them.

Por favor

The pearl was gone, that was for sure, but relief washed over him upon feeling the fine golden chain of the locket. Hand clasped on it while he brought it to his chest and sighed.

He nearly gave up.

Heart pounding in his ears along his head, and only when he opened the locket, the tears flowed. Calloused fingers full of sandy grains probed the valuable mineral, feeling the dents of the shell shape he knew by heart at this point. Eyes drowning and his voice muffled into a silent and wrathful sob as he inhaled the trinket.

Perdóname, Gabi. (Forgive me)

A faint tickle of fresh home bread, coconut oil that he used to fry the fish, and the eucalyptus ointment that was always next to him brought back the bittersweet memories that flooded his mind about the last years he had with Gabriella. She adored when he cooked, and always smelled his fingers after using the oil.

It reminds me of you, Papa.

She loved freshly baked bread. But hated the smell of the eucalyptus ointment the doctor left her.

The only memento he now had of his beloved and long gone daughter. The only thing that mattered the most for him.

How dared them betraying him when he had been everything but fair and good?

How dared them into taking his ship and some important things he had hid inside? But most importantly, how dared life to show him that mermaids were real when the reason he believed in them in the first place was no longer with him?

Who was he supposed to tell that he saw a mermaid?

A karma for turning into a pirate, maybe. All his mind was able to remember was the way the creature looked at him, a clear assessment of her power. Fear invaded every fiber of his being, making him too stunned to actually think or act until he saw the creature devouring Elliot.

Another reason for him to respect the sea. Now that he had a glimpse of what laid underneath, Miguel wondered what other things crawled in it's depths. But he would think about it all tomorrow.

His eyes drooped in exhaustion. Thinking consumed the last bit of his energy reserves. Despite the thirst clawing at his throat with a vice grip, the headache and weariness were greater. Even though a thicket wasn't the right choice to spend the night, he hadn't the time nor the energies to be picky. He just collapsed once more and hoped whoever above to live another day.

----

The sunlight was slippery enough to leak through the dense foliage and reach patches of the humid and moss textured land, as well parts of his weathered face. With a wince he rolled to his side, avoiding the aurifeous and warm touch from the ever blazing sun.  Head clear from it's pain, and thoughts in order, like it should be.

With a sigh he rose and stretched, popping joints back in their place. Discomfort remaining in his head and wrists, that upon further examination he deducted the cuts in them were fresh, and undoubtedly someone had saved him from a certain death. Who, he didn't know but was grateful for the mysterious savior to let his revenge start.

With a rested yet hungry body, and a fresh head to think, he rolled his shoulders back and took a look around. Surveying his environment to decide which way to go. No weapons, no resources but packed with skills that were honed precisely for these sort of situations.

He still remembered the first time Mundaca had left him in an island with a single knife to fend for himself, since Miguel refused to accompany him in a slave hunting trip. At first he thought that Mundaca had left him for good or out of spite, but Fermín had only taught him a valuable surviving lesson. This time however, he didn't have that knife and would rely only on his hands, brain and brawns.

Naturally, Miguel headed for the north, palm trees left behind, instead acai palms, rubber trees and soursops begun gathering in the place. The scent of wet soil and rotting wood was pungent in the air, oddly, he liked it. Macaws and other birds cackled and cawed as he pushed deeper along some distant rustling.

The overgrown roots twisted and tangled here and there, weaving a walkable path free of them to his right, His eyes darted to the tail of a cobra slithering away from him, minding it's business.

The copious squaking of the birds was a good white noise along the crunching of his wet boots. His throat was beyond arid, that even spit couldn't form in it if he wished; stomach rumbled violently, begging him for some food. Breathings paused but deep.

Hours stretched for what seemed forever, he didn't know if he was walking in circles, the island was definitely not small. He had found some fruit trees along the way, but the things were so our of reach, that attempting to climb for them was a risk. He'd knew the wait would worth it.

Ears however perked at the gunshot given in the distance. Eyes widened, both in surprise and excitement at the thought that civilization was within. Cause that meant, food and water. And also weapons. And what a better way to confirm it than a booming gunshot that spooked away the nearby fawn.

With careful steps, he followed the echo, making the least of noise possible. As much as it thrilled to have a bite, he also understood the implications of such things. Armored men, guarded bodegas, overpowered foremen and probably slaves.

Time flew by, but his spirits lifted upon spotting the first red uniforms in a distance. Two of them. He approached closer to take a better look.

The soldiers had a rifle each, a belt full of ammo and firing at what were now dead slaves as shooting dummies. To his right, Miguel saw a few tents and supplies. Food and water tossed in a nearby bench, a fire was alight, serving as a cooking source for the pot placed above. His eyes however fell upon a machete. Probably belonging to one of the dead men tied up in the wooden posts.

After all, working tools had to be in perfect conditions, leaving no room for slacking off.

Miguel forayed slowly, moving within the foliage until he reached for the machete, with paced breathings he awaited for another shot to rumble to pull the weapon within his reach. The metallic drag was drowned. He couldn't eat until the men were disposed off.

Now that he was armored, a distraction was needed. The branches used for the iron's pot makeshift support were weak, the stew inside boiled. Miguel pushed the tip of the machete on the pot's edge, a little clink connected as the pot was pushed forward, but it barely tumbled it. He awaited for another gunshot to echo to push the pot entirely on the ground.

The lard immediately sent sparks on the floor as smoke surrounded the area. The noisy thud of the pot alarmed one of the guards that didn't waste time into blaming his companion for the shitty structure and how they'd have to go fishing again to get food done.

A little too late the guard noticed the fiery red eyes that glowered at him. Before he could even say something the sharp blade of the machete sliced through this throat in a firm thrust, all the guard could do was a gurgle, perturbed, before plummeting on the floor, staining the blade with a warm crimson as Miguel pulled it out of the body. Flesh sizzling at the contact of the hot coals and wood.

He took a rock that filled in his palm and aimed it for the head of the remaining guard, the other soldier yelped as he fell on the ground, the rock hitting his head with a lurid crack. Miguel lurched for him to end his misery by impaling the weapon in his back. Right in the middle. It was quick, deathly and effective.

Miguel panted but waited in case  another guard was around, but none approached, just the wing flapping of a macaw somewhere. With the machete in  hand he approached to the tent and wasted no time in gobbling down the water in a container, quenching his thirst, not really caring for the droplets that rolled down his neck.

His hands then wiped his face as he scrubbed the caked blood and sand away, then scarfed down the leftovers left in a plate and devoured anything within reach that was cooked or preserved, Adia probably would scold him for eating like an animal, despite being starving.

Once he was satisfied and his strength back, he looked for other weapons he could use. As much as the machete proved a worthy aid, it was long and it made noise. The opposite of what he needed.

The Red Eyed Demon searched into the soldier's pockets, a couple of coins, bullets and gold teeth that seemed freshly pulled out of the bodies in the back. He took the bullets and left the rest, he also found a short ranged pistol, a combat knife and a rope.

Also, to his luck, some fresh clothes. As much as he was set into his vengeance he wouldn't waste the chance into being comfortable while at it. His boots were soiled full of sand and saline water, he changed them, like his pants. The shirt was the only thing he kept since none of the men actually wore his size.

Ridiculous as it was, one of the soldiers had abnormally larger feet. But were perfect for him. Pants still a bit too short but he'd had them any other day instead of walking around feeling uncomfortable and itchy by the salt etched to his skin and clothes.

He ventured deeper only to find a familiar scene before him. A state. Hacienda Valverde read in the overly embellished metal structure that held the sign.

----

So far, Miguel had done a good job in keeping himself hid, the least of attention he attracted, the more successful his escape plan would be. So far he had counted around fifteen soldiers in the property. Five of them scattered through the plantations, making sure the workforce didn't dally in their duties.

He ventured over the trees, avoiding unnecessary trouble, to then land nearly quietly in a mountain of hay. His breathings stopped at every time an unsuspected guard passed by him. Heart pounded in his ears when his steps brought him closer and closer to danger

The rest of the guards were scattered through the property, watching over the stables, the main storage room, inside the hacienda and of course, watching over the supply.

He had snuck in the warehouse, to his surprise the cells were empty, he went through each of them to see if anything worthy had been left behind, but the sound of the lock being picked made him hide behind a couple of haystacks.

"Stop, Stop!" A groan came from a wriggling man, "I told you the truth! Let me go!"

Miguel couldn't see who was the prisoner, peeking out would be too risky, but the lack of accent, gave him a hint. An American.

The man grunted as he kicked, managed to land a punch or two to the guards that only twisted his shackled hands backwards. This made the man whine and curse, blind hot pain shot in his ribcage as another soldier hit him with the base of his rifle.

"Shut your fucking gob!" With a rough shove, the fighting man was thrown into the cell, the enclosure's door stilled with a loud creak as the main door was slammed shut.

The only noises the pirate could hear was the pained grunts that only increased when the prisoner tried to pick himself up from the floor, and the shaky huffing that turned into whiny whimpers when he managed to recover some air.

The day was set to surprise him, cause in his life he had seen a white man being thrown in a slave cell. Until now.

The man was tall, lean muscle in his body, a five o'clock stubble in his narrow cheeks and blue eyes. Hair hapzardly peeking ontop of his head.

"Fuck..." He groaned but recoiled in his cell even further upon seeing the shade of red glinting at him behind the haystacks. Pain screamed in every breathing he did, but that didn't stop him from trying to get himself free.

"H-Hey"

The man's eyes widened as soon as Miguel came into full view. He had to crane his head upwards to meet his eyes and gulped as soon as he realized the color in the behemoth of a man. Breaths shallow but less erratic than before now that he knew he had company.

"Please. Help me out of here, pal"

He was definitely American.

"And why would I do that?"

Miguel’s bushy brow quirked while taking another look through the warehouse, searching for alternative escape routes.

"Cause my wife just gave birth and I wanna meet my little girl."

A red stare seized the blue one. His unwavering, but the man's rivalled against it. Miguel broke contact as his hands fisted briefly. The prisoner's chest heaved whole he rubbed the area he was hit on.

Lucky bastard

"I was supposed to arrive last week but I was taken from the ship."

"Why?"

Miguel looked through the haystacks and other corners he didn't have the chance to search thoroughly.

"That's what I'd like to know!" The man sat against the lateral bars and winced defeated, watching at the moving man.

"I was a merchant, on a trip to improve a little familiar business I have, but Nueva York isn't precisely friendly with the working class." He paused to take some air the hit had taken away, "So I came back. And that's where the english trapped me." His forehead rested ontop of his scrapped and bloodied knuckles. The spark that gave him a beating and his imprisonment.

"The English are press ganging civilians at sea."

Miguel's lip twitched in a scowl upon hearing the news. Of course they would, Americans and English were too deep in political wars that could barely stand eachother. But in the sea, the English were the masters and none was there to stop them. More like he wasn't there to sink as many of them as possible.

Yet.

"How old is your daughter?"

The pirate asked above his shoulder and this made the gaoler to look up.

"Three weeks old. According to my wife's last letter."

Miguel's shoulder slumped, and he turned to look at the man. A little hesitation passed over his eyes, but it vanished as soon as he saw an old acquaintance of him. Hope. Red eyes rolled annoyed, as if regretting the sudden decision he was about to make.

"Do you know how to use a weapon?"

The question surely threw the man off, but still managed to reply

"Y-Yeah. Not fond of them, but yeah."

"Fight?"

"Not a complete useless if that's what you're hinting at."

Miguel chuckled and approached closer to the cell, examining the lock while the detainee put on his pair of boots.

"Gimme a wire and I'll get myself out of here."

Miguel instead took a nearby shovel to destroy the lock in a couple of hits. The metal piece clanking on the floor as it fell.

"O-Or you could do that. Yeah."

The man stood on his feet and stretched before offering his hand to him, Miguel just stared at him for a moment before taking his hand in a firm shake. Peter hid a wince at the sheer display of strength and that he had grabbed his injured hand.

"Peter B. Parker. Merchant and lock master."

"Miguel O'Hara. Pirate."

Peter could only blink stupidly at him.

"Let's go."

But followed him without much thought.

-----

Taglist:

@nerdykat @munixumai @raiirai @sarapaprikas-blog @deputy-videogamer @rizahawkeye1380 @littlenyx @marit332 @iz-iplier @mad-hatter-rici @viriexo @obi-mom-kenobi @allysunny @lishdfish @not-ur-average-fangirl @freehentai @darksidecorner @winteringfalls @ellasarich @eustashh @nyxismoon @murnsondock @pluviophilis @oooof-ifellforyou @plusultrayokai @teacoffeeflavored @ctizu1 @dickfartcheesy @s0lm1n @vonev @iwumrndbm @azuredragonstrike @Iyykeyyy @arrozyfrijoles23 @frompeach @ghostlyworld @liamdasimp @straw-berry-ghoul

[lovelynim]

TickleTober2024/Day 27 - Picky

Honkai: Star Rail - Jiaoqiu x Moze

Jiaoqiu furrowed his brows, feeling how the spoon landed against something soft, somewhat squishy: Moze’s cheek, to be exact. “I know you didn’t eat it.”

“I don’t want it,” Moze replied stubbornly, keeping his face turned away from Jiaoqiu even when the latter continued to poke his cheek with the spoon a couple more times. “Stop it, master Jiao.”

Jiaoqiu sighed, placing the spoon back in the bowl. “I’m not letting you skip a meal. You’re still healing and you need proper nourishment to get healthy, Moze.”

The healer’s ears twitched at the sound of Moze sighing, Jiaoqiu could picture the pout Moze probably had in his face right now, way too familiar with that behavior already. Such a picky eater…

Normally, Jiaoqiu would have whatever he was trying to feed Moze minced and hid among other ingredients, but he couldn’t exactly afford to try to prepare a dish like that in his current situation, so he hoped Moze wouldn’t be so stubborn for once. Foolish mistake.

“Can I go now?” Moze mumbled.

“To where?”

“I’ll go fetch myself something else to eat. You don’t need to trouble yourself preparing one for me.”

However, just as he was about to stand up, Jiaoqiu’s hand reached out for his clothes and pushed him back in the chair. Moze widened his eyes, surprised by the fact he was suddenly handled like that - could Jiaoqiu’s cooking really buff one’s strength like that?

Jiaoqiu clenched his hand around Moze’s shirt, but kept a calm look despite that. “Here, Moze,” he cooed, picking the spoon again, “say ‘ahh’..”

“Master Jiao, I told you to st– ngh!” Before he could finish his protests, a pained growl interrupted his speech. Moze looked down to find Jiaoqiu’s fingers digging into his side. He gritted his teeth, pressing his lips shut while the corners of his mouth slowly curled up.

Jiaoqiu continued to smile calmly, drumming at the spot just below Moze’s ribs while cocking his head to the side. “Come on ~ Just say ‘ahhh’, I promise I didn’t make it spicy this time…”

“I-I dohon’t- hngh.. w-want it…” Moze groaned, leaning back into his seat while the spoon, full of Jiaoqiu’s cooking, hovered inches away from his lips that battled to not split open. The scent of that extra-healthy soup was already making him imagine all sorts of bitter, awful tastes it could have. “S-stohop it…” Moze giggled, his eyes closing shut as he felt the spoon poking at his face.

“I’ll make you a nice dessert after… I didn’t let you snack before your meal this time, so I know you’re hungry.” Jiaoqiu added, giggling along. His tail wagged behind his back and, after wiggling his fingers a couple more seconds against Moze’s side…

“AH!” Moze squealed, caught off guard by a hand that suddenly wormed itself up beneath his arm. In that matter of seconds, Jiaoqiu pushed the spoon past his lips, ‘carefully’ feeding the other. “J-Jiaqoiu, cough, that’s cheating!”

“Is it?” Jiaoqiu feigned surprise, covering his lips to hide the mischievous grin behind his hand. “Now now, we don’t have time to complain. Your food is getting cold… Say, ‘ahhh’”

A/N: FINALLY, FINALLY I GOT THE CHANCE TO WRITE FOR THEM

My little babies, love them mwah mwah mwah

[prinzrupprecht]

Oblivious!Okita Souji x reader HCs

I got this idea from the chibi chiruran anime. He is the most popular amongst the girls surprisedly but doesn’t bat an eye for any of them and just feeds the cats instead LOL

I poured way too much into this… next I’ll post an Anubis one shot.

CW: hurt/comfort and fluff

No matter how hard you tried to give him gifts yourself, some other girl outside of the residence would ask Saitou to give Souji their gifts instead.

You were certain you would never get his attention if none of those other girls can’t get his. You wish you were a cat instead. They get his attention more than any of you.

You would avoid him to get over your silly crush. Was it because he was the strongest? Or just that he was caring and kind? You were certain it was both, you liked his strong protective side and also he was a caring person.

One day you had asked Hijikata to help you train a bit with a wooden sword, this shocked Souji since he was just outside of the room on the porch petting one of the cats hearing you ask the worst swordsman to train you?

Okita started to mock his swordsman skills as one of the weakest and slowest in the group. Nagakura jumped in and started to make fun of you for asking Hijikata and not him which started a huge fight between the three of them. Souji didn’t like how Nagakura wanted to train you as well. “You still can’t land a hit on me,” Souji snickered at Nagakura but this caused Hijikata to try to sneakily hit Souji from behind, but of course, he dodged and punched Hijikata back knocking him out.

“I… didn’t mean for any of this,” you were shocked by their fight and not sure if they were going to apologize and make up later. You wanted to just leave and not ask any of them again. “Agh, you morons.” Yamanami walked into the room seeing Hijikata on the floor passed out and Nagakura irritated. Souji was nonchalant like usual with his calm expression that was hard to read.

Other times Souji wouldn’t understand some of your jokes, questions or advances about women. This made you wonder if he was even into girls or just uninterested at all.

Once when you were presented with everyone else, Nakagura asked if you liked anyone in the group and made a joke it was probably him. Your face turned red and Yamanami told Nagakura to cease personal questions like that. Unfortunately, even Saitou wondered the same along with Hijikata who rejects your “confession” even though you never said who. You freaked out and said no one and that you’re perfectly fine ending up alone. Lies… of course, the one person you liked was just oblivious to your feelings. The other members stopped picking on you after you denied liking anyone.

Of course, Souji was sitting on the porch ignoring everyone teasing you. You were already accepting the outcome of him never liking you. You sighed and went back to your private room.

After you had left, Souji got mad at them, but most of all, he hated your response deep down on wanting to end up alone. This surprised majority of the shinsengumi members seeing how pissed Souji looked with his murderous glare.

Yamanami was the observer of the group and knew Souji had always hidden his feelings for you or mostly pushed his feelings aside. Yamanami even saw him throw away the love letters from the girls who were always outside the residence fangirling over him or Saitou. Whenever they gave him bento boxes, Souji was always seen giving them to Harada since he was the big eater of the group.

Yamanami had pulled him aside alone to ‘talk’ to him but mostly to get whatever his deal was about. It was obvious that you liked him and he did as well, but you both were too scared to say anything. Souji didn’t respond to Yamanami about the situation that occurred and went to find you.

While sitting alone in your room pondering everything and the embarrassment that the other members put you in. You were certain you were going to end up alone as you said. You didn’t even hear your door open since your back was turned as you lied on your side drawing circles on the wooden floor with your index finger. “Oh, were you going to sleep?” Souji’s voice broke you out of your trance. You muttered a no and said you’re better off being alone right now. It’s unusual for you to want to be alone, especially from him. You already accepted the worst case and prefer to separate yourself from everyone for a while.

“Mind if I stay— I mean, if you’re okay with that. I don’t like how noisy they are.” You wanted to scoff since he mostly slept in Kondo’s room. Seriously?

“Sure, fine. Now what’s the real reason you’re here?” You turned your head to see him standing by the door before sitting next to you. He looked… nervous?

“What did you mean when you said that you’re fine ending up alone?” Souji brought his knees up to his chest. He wasn’t making eye contact with you as he chose to look forward instead. You were confused about where this was coming from. You couldn’t think of anything to respond with.

“I just… wanted them to drop the topic so it came out of nowhere. I’m sorry for all of that…” You suckered in your breath as you closed your eyes.

“I like you and—” Souji said out loud but you didn’t let him finish as you pulled him close to you pressing your lips on his letting both your minds register the moment before pulling away. He wasn’t even shocked nor pushed you away. He was happy as well for accepting his feelings.

“You’re oblivious sometimes, you know that?” You said as you melted in his arms and embrace.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Intruder!!

Author’s Note: This is the next installment of Joth’s adventures in the Husbandry AU! Other fics with Joth in them that I’ve written can be found here. 

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel

Warnings: none? Please ask me to tag something if I missed it/it bothers you

Summary: Joth handles an intruder with the mercy you’ve taught him. 

“Put the goat down. Gently. Leave this property and return with money or never.” Joth ordered the Blood Claw who had his idiot hands on one of your goats. He had heard Maisie’s warning bark and growls, followed by Jacks and Sandy running to aid the oldest of your trio of Great Pyrenees. The canids helped Joth patrol the boundaries of your territory and chased away most predators and would be threats at night, while you slept in your home. 

“The fuck I will, Chaos scum! I’m hungry and this thing looks like it’d be a decent enough meal.” The young Space Wolf growled, bristling visibly. The goat in his hands squirmed and butted his horned head against the other’s armored stomach.

Maisie growled lowly, and Joth whistled, not wanting her to get injured by this insufferable Loyalist Fool. Jacks rumbled, equally unhappy. “Do you know where you are, Space Wolf?”

“... That doesn’t matter! I’m hungry, and I’m taking this as my meal!” The Blood Claw blustered, glaring up at him.

“We are on Terra. M3 Terra.” Joth rumbled, stalking closer to the Loyalist “Put. Down. The goat.”

“Why the fuck would I believe a word out of your mouth, you Traitor?!” The Loyalist huffed, still glaring at him, pulling the goat closer to his body, even as it bleated and kicked at him.

“Do you have a working vox-communicator?” Joth asked, struggling to not roll his eyes at the young idiot in front of him. 

“I do. But I am on a survival mission! To prove that I am capable of surviving, no matter the circumstances.” The Blood Claw snapped. 

“Aren’t baby Space Wolves left on frozen hell-holes to prove themselves? Most of Terra is far from such a world, even in the depths of winter that would qualify.” Joth asked, tilting his head a little as he took another slow step towards the young idiot. The other didn’t have armor on and was lightly armed.

“... To be entirely honest, I thought I was dreaming. This part of the world at least, is so temperate and pretty. Prey and edible greens and fruits are so plentiful here. And I’m not a baby!” The young Space Wolf protested, puffing out his chest up at him.

Joth took another step towards the Blood Claw, whistling another command to Maisie and Jacks, who kept the younger Astartes hemmed in on two sides, while the pup, Sandy padded up behind him. “Youngling Astarte. Put down the goat. It belongs to the one whose property this is. There is Astartes-food available, but to get it you put the animal down. Now.”

The young Space Wolf looked up at him, before looking around “But… But you’re a traitor! Why should I believe y-”

You call out from the porch “Is everything alright, Joth?”

Oh! He hadn’t known you were awake. He has an idiot youngling to wrangle. Faster than the little Loyalist could track, Joth lunged forward and scooped him up, pinning the Blood Claw’s arms between his side and one of his arms, in a secure grip that the other would not be able to easily break. His other arm carefully yanked the goat free before setting her down and giving the goat a loving pat on the head. “I found the raider.” He answers in the same language you spoke.

“Who are you talking to? Who is that?!” The baby Space Wolf growled in Gothic, wriggling ineffectually in Joth’s hold.

Joth grabbed the younger Astarte by the back of his neck and shook him a little “You behave. That is the owner of these lands, and the animal you tried to steal.” WIth that he trotted up to the porch, firmly holding onto the wiggly young Astarte, who wasn’t going to escape his grasp unless the thousands of years old World Eater let him go. Khorne’s Blessings of strength and endurance far outweighed what the whelp could muster up.

You look at the rough fur-clothing covered young Space Wolf struggling in his hands, a small smile appearing on your face “Do you know how long he’s been on Earth?”

Joth shook his head “No, but from what little he said, he hasn’t been here long. Naughty puppy has been eating your livestock that has gone missing, I’ll bet. He was trying to take a goat when Maisie yelled at him.”

“Joth, dearheart, he’s a person. What’s your name? Does he speak English?” You respond, having a sigh and shake your head a little “Bring him inside. I’ll heat up some leftovers for him to eat. He looks like he’s half-starved. No wonder he was going after my animals. Especially if he doesn’t know about the base he could visit for food and clothing if he felt like it.”

“Space Wolf youngling.” Joth huffed, glaring down at the wiggly Blood Claw. He snapped “What is your name, puppy?”

You sigh as you go get your cellphone “He’s still a person. I’m going to call the after-hours astartes response line for the closest Loyalist base in Gannet Point - unless. Is he a renegade? He’s not odd enough to be a chaos marine, I think.”

“As if I would tell you that, Traitor! You might do some sort of horrible ritual to fuck me up, or steal my identity if I told you! Who is this baseline mortal who cavorts with traitors! I-” The baby Space Wolf began to shout. 

“Loyalist puppy.” The Chaos astartes acknowledged in English. He then readjusted his grip on the Blood Claw so that he was covering the other’s mouth. An Astartes could accidentally injure the hearing of a mortal if he wasn’t careful, and Joth had encountered enough Blood Claws to know that the rough and tumble little lunatic pups were seldom careful.  “Shush. No yelling in the house.” He shook the growling pup who was trying to bite through his armored gauntlets with just enough force to get him to settle down.

“Alright. Nearest loyalist base it is. Do you think he’ll eat anything I try to give him? Or will he growl at me and refuse?” You muse as you press the numbers to the on-call phone number, knowing it by heart by now. 

“Probably would refuse. Keeps calling me a traitor, among other things, when I let him talk.” Joth answered, able to hold the squirming Blood Claw in his hands as he waited for you to make the phone call.

~

In less than ten minutes after you made the call, despite the fact that your farm was over an hour away from Gannet point by car ride, there was a mixed squad of Loyalists. Two were Ultramarines, one was a Salamander, and the remaining two were Space Wolves. 

The Blood Claw had tried and failed to escape Joth’s implacable grip the entire time, making angry little growling and whining noises behind the hand that kept his vocalizations quiet. Maisie had decided to stop growling at him just before the squad of loyalists had arrived.

“Sargeant Amicus, thank you for coming so quickly. I’m aware that it’s terribly early in the morning, but this particular Astartes has likely been stealing my chickens for the better part of the week and he looks half-starved.” You murmur, greeting the lead Astartes, the slightly smaller Ultramarine.

“It’s our duty to take care of issues like this. Especially when Brothers or Cousins are causing such problems. Faffnir, Ulric, would you mind retrieving the Blood Claw from Joth?” The Sargeant answered with a small, professional smile, gesturing to the two Space Wolves.

Ultric and Faffnir each grabbed one of the younger Wolf’s arms, with the latter saying “We’ve got the pup… You were a lot gentler with him than I expected you’d be.”

Joth shrugged “He is young and dumb. Nothing wrong with that, and I have been learning that kindness is not weakness here on Terra.”

“... Fair enough. No biting, you little shit!” Ulric answered, sharply reprimanding the Blood Claw as the young Wolf attempted to chomp one of the hands restraining him. 

“The muzzle I was brought here with should fit him well enough.” Joth remarked lightly as he loomed over the trio of Space Wolves “I would be willing to let you borrow it.”

“.. No, I think he’s finished being bitey, right? You’re going to be a good Scout and not try and cause more mischief, right?” Faffnir rumbled, his voice going low and growly.

The youngest Space Wolf let out a low, unhappy whine before looking away from Faffnir, his body going limp “Yes sirs… Why are we not murdering the heretic?”

“That will be explained later. Off we go, pup.” Ulric hummed before he and Faffnir dragged the Blood Claw away.

“As he is a loyalist, please send us a bill of how many animals he killed to feed himself, and you will be recompensed for it. I am aware that you’d rather have the a animals back, but money is all we are able to offer at this time. Though perhaps, after the young one has settled into Terra and how things run here, we could have him work on your farm as partial recompense, if you would be comfortable about that?” Sergeant AMicus asks you.

Joth’s tail swishes back and forth in agitation at the thought of that and he crosses his arms. He is scowling at the floor, but doesn’t saying anything.

“A tempting offer, but I would rather have the money, sergeant.” You answer honestly, shaking your head a little.

“As you say.” The Ultramarine acknowledged before turning and leaving, the other marines leaving behind him.

You wait until you’re sure that the Loyalist Marine sare out of hearing range before you smile warmly up at Joth and move in close. You gently touch one of his arms so that he is looking at you as you say “You did really well tonight, Joth. You protected my animals. You didn’t hurt the other marine, just restrained him so that ye wouldn’t cause more problems , and you were very patient.”

Joth beams at your praise and kneels down, lowering his head.

You smile warmly, knowing what he ias asking of you without words, and you gently pat his head, mindful of the Nails still digging into his skull. You press a kiss to his forehead “I mean it, Joth. You did very well.”

You hear the happy thump-thump-thump of Joth’s tail hitting your floorboards as he leans a little more into your head-pats. “I tried to be gentle, like you said I should be.” He rumbles.

You can hear the smile in his voice and you give him a couple more kisses on the forehead “And you succeeded. Well done, Joth.” You murmur as you try and fail to stop a tired yawn from leaving you.

HIs large, warm arms come up to gently encircle you, hugging you close. “Rest. I will protect, alongside your guard dogs.” His voice had an almost lyrical quality to it, and you nod sleepily, closing your eyes and allowing Joth to carry you up to your room and tuck you into bed.

[cattimeswithjellie]

The One With the Tunnel Borer Disaster

I'm about 80% convinced that the whole Grian And Scar's Great Redstone Disaster is a semi-planned bit with Doc in on it ahead of time. Those two are reckless, but this would be a little bit extreme even for them, especially when dealing with someone else's extremely complex redstone. I mean, think about how long the various iterations of the World-Eater hung around without being messed with! And yet Grian randomly suggests going and looking at the tunnel borer as a distraction and Scar agrees immediately, and then the first thing they do when they get there is destroy this very big but generally nonessential machine? And then they let it play out over Twitter instead of begging forgiveness in Discord? Doesn't seem quite right...

But why destroy the tunnel borer like this and right now? There's a couple good reasons. The Mecha-Goat has been siting idle for months now, garaged in a pretty important bit of land.

This is Scar's view on what is going to be Adventureland, and I believe that line of blocks is going to be the river ride. The GOAT Garage is right up on that bit of real estate, and if it sits idle too long, it risks destroying actual built landscape when it is deployed. Plus, it's been a long time since the Mecha-GOAT was build, and it needs to be used! The trouble is, it's such a big and wild thing that it seems like overkill for almost any transgression from the neighbors. Grian and Scar would have to do something _very_ bad to justify that kind of TNT-farting revenge machine! And now... they have!

So that's one reason for why, and for why now. But what else? Quite simply, there's a clear block of time. There's no Life Series going on, Scar has finished his massive castle, the TCG tournament is basically wrapped up. Decked Out 2 is still months away from play. The server could really use a new storyline, and what better than a brand new ALL OUT WAR? Those are fun and prompt new creative builds and interactions. Plus it means Grian doesn't have to finish the back of his build for awhile longer.

Honestly, in the end it doesn't really matter whether it was planned or not. We know that at the end of the day nobody is really super-mad at anybody, and if there are hard feelings they will be worked through off-camera in a grown-up way between colleagues. But I believe that there's a plan at work here, and that it's going to unfold in a way that will be amazingly entertaining to watch. Here's to the Great GOAT War, may the silliest team win!

[iamnmbr3]

💖

What is your biggest unpopular opinion about the series?

hm. not sure because i feel like no matter how fringe the opinion it will be popular in one corner of the fandom or other. However, I'll go with my opinion on the Sectumsempra incident. I feel that it is not as big a deal as it's made out to be in some corners of the fandom and the bad thing about isn't what people focus on and also it's not even the most morally questionable thing Harry does in the series by a long shot.

I think some people tend to treat it as something Harry did with knowledge and intent, when he didn't. He didn't even use the spell because he dislikes Draco. He did it in a frantic moment of self defense when the first few spells he tried didn't work and he was shouting the first thing that came to mind. The terrible thing is that he was very cavalier about trying out unknown magic. The actual context he used it in - self defense agains a probable Death Eater who was attacking him and had escalated to Unforgivables - is actually pretty understandable. However, had he not walked in on Draco the probable victim of his spell would have been Cormac Mclaggen, who he had actually intended to test it on due to his dislike of him. This is hugely irresponsible, as was his decision to test another spell on Ron. (Though we must remember that his education has not stressed the potential risks of using unknown spells on people.)

Harry didn't know what the spell did and used it only in response to an attack and only after several of his other spells didn't work (btw shoutout to the fact that Draco actually lasted longer in a duel with Harry than any other character in the series except Snape). People sometimes put it into the real world context of a fight between people at school getting out of hand to the point one person nearly dies. But that's not what happened. This is a heightened fantasy context of two people who are now literally on opposite sides of a war getting into a serious fight. Also, although people say Harry didn't feel bad he actually was absolutely horrified by what he has done, so much so that he completely lost his composure in the moment which is a very atypical reaction for him, even in dangerous or upsetting situations. And then he subsequently completely stops investigating Draco even though the fight and what Draco says right before it further substantiate Harry's theories about Draco.

The really notable thing to me is how upset Harry is when Draco is hurt - to the point that he freezes up and panics, which is one of the only times he reacts that way in a high stress situation - and how it is Pansy and not Draco who vilifies Harry. It's also really interesting that Harry could have probably gotten himself out of trouble by mentioning that Draco was saying some super incriminating stuff and then attacked him and tried to use an Unforgivable Curse on Harry (which remember, carries a life sentence in prison). But even though Harry previously brought concerns about Draco to McGonagall, during the whole time she apparently yelled at him over this incident he never brought any of these extenuating circumstances. Given that Lucius is already in jail and the Malfoys have lost their standing in mainstream wizarding society (as well as among Death Eaters) Harry's accusation would probably have been taken seriously and he might well have been able to land Draco in jail. However, instead when Harry sees the vulnerable position Draco is in he backs off.

So yeah Harry definitely made a horrible mistake in this scene, but I see it more as drarry fodder than as evidence of him being a vicious psychopath.

Were this anyone but Draco, I can't imagine Harry reacting in a similar way. I mean, imagine him walking in on some other Death Eater saying a bunch of incriminating stuff and then getting attacked by that Death Eater and injuring the Death Eater more than he intended while acting in self defense. (Remember in book 5 Hermione was the one who had to stop him cursing the Death Eater whose head was de-aged to a baby.)

And the other weird thing is that Harry does other more morally grey things. In book 2 he makes Lockhart go first into the Chamber. If the Basilisk was waiting there he would have been killed. In a moment of anger in book 6 he chokes Mundungus so hard he starts turning blue, and never feels bad about it or apologizes. In book 7 he won't attack Stan with Stunners but he does use them on other Death Eaters, which presumably risks killing them. (There's also his use of the Cruciatus Curse in book 7 which I personally find to be a dumb and ooc scene added for a silly reason and thus just don't count as canon even though it could have been a super interesting moment if done well; but if you do count it, that's wayyy darker than the book 6 scene). I love Harry but he's not just an uwu soft cinnamon roll though I don't think he's an evil psychopath like some parts of fandom do either. He does make some morally grey choices that make his character interesting and complex and flawed, but the bathroom fight in book 6 really isn't one of them imho.

[witches-dream]

Destroy yourself, or save me

A Soul Jam Eater Goldenspice fic

Chapter 3

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [you're here!]

Chapter partially hidden under cut to save space :D

***

Golden Cheese didn't expect much to change in the mere half a day they've known each other, but she still groaned when holding Burning Spice.

"What, too heavy for a dainty princess?"

"I wonder who's fault it is that you're so unwieldy."

Goldie flew to the mountain on her own wings, which she quickly regretted. Her wings were powered by her own soul, and, usually, soul wavelengths are greatly amplified by weapons; but since her and Spice didn't match well yet, it took more effort to fly. Thankfully, the hill where the monster resided wasn't too far away. But that was the reason this threat had to be taken care of sooner rather than later; she was going to deal with it the next day, but this also worked out as her and Burning Spice's first experience fighting together. Maybe Smoked Cheese's little nickname for her, "Queen of Impulsive Decisions", was correct after all.

The monster they were after, The Mountain Guardian, has grown taller than the mountain in size, and if it continues to dig its massive tunnels, all of the earth will collapse. This snake only comes out at night, and by the time Golden Cheese approached the mountain, the ground was rumbling underneath her.

"If that thing is causing these earthquakes, it must be very strong," Spice said, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

"Are you scared?"

"I'm excited!" Spice roared, and as though on cue, the snake burst out of the ground, sending boulders and dust flying everywhere. Goldie barely dodged them all, but all the dust in the air now obstructed the view. She didn't even have the chance to notice the snake charging at her before she was knocked away.

"What are you doing?!" Burning Spice yelled, but Goldie didn't have time to reply. The snake moved fast, and Goldie had already spent much of her strength getting here and was at a disadvantage.

But the Mountain Guardian had an apparent weakness: it attacked with its head, meaning that if it hits once, it then has to raise the head again and turn in the meister's direction. So Golden Cheese taunted the snake low down and flew up when it went for her, giving her time to stab it in the neck with all her strength... Except it barely left a scratch.

"That's really all you can do, even wielding me?!" Burning Spice raged, as though he wasn't hot enough already.

"It has tough skin, I'll try hitting it from underneath," Goldie said, and the next second she circled the guardian, confusing it, and tried stabbing it again, this time from another side. And yet that didn't do much either. The snake swooped to the ground, which surely would've squashed Cheese if she didn't have her wings.

"What are you doing stabbing its neck, idiot?!" Spice yelled, and Goldie couldn't help but snap back.

"Where else do you suggest I hit it if I'm trying to behead it?!" She landed on a high cliff and watched the snake burrow into the ground below, sending earthquakes even this high.

"Aim for its fucking soul, birdbrains!"

"You think I know where its fucking soul is?!" Another powerful wave shook the cliff. The Guardian must've been right below them.

"It's in its chest! Have you never fought one of those before?!"

"This thing lives for centuries, when could I?!"

Right then, the cliff shattered under Goldie's feet. She tried flying away, but, with rocks flying everywhere and hitting her from all sides, it proved difficult. Her landing was rough, and holding a heavy burning axe didn't help.

Burning Spice uttered: "Maybe you don't deserve my strength after all." Before Golden Cheese could react, Spice took on his human form and charged at the snake, axe as his arm, shouting: "YOU AREN'T WORTH MY TIME!!!" Golden Cheese watched him swing his blade with speed that she didn't think was possible with a weapon of that size and power. But, no matter how powerful his blows were, it was like the snake's skin was made of titanium.

"Who here doesn't deserve whose strength, huh?!" Goldie yelled out. The earth quaked as the snake dug into the ground again. In the center of it all, Burning Spice would've gotten buried, if Golden Cheese didn't swoop in and save him. Spice turned into the axe and let Goldie carry him to safety, but when she landed, instantly assumed his human form again. Goldie had to shout at him over the rumbling earth, though she would've shouted either way.

"You may have forgotten this, cuz you've been in your damp cave for so long, but a weapon and meister are supposed to work together, and if you can't even serve your basic function, then you're just a shit weapon!"

"What kind of meister can't even scratch a snake--"

"You can't either, asshole!" Spice clicked his tongue as she said that, and turned away. "We're working separately right now, but we won't defeat it this way! We have to feel the rhythm of each other's souls and adjust to it, then attack together... Otherwise, the Mountain Guardian will have human pancakes for dinner!"

Burning Spice went completely silent. But he didn't get time to ruminate, as the snake emerged from the ground once again, throwing boulders at him and Cheese. He didn't need a command to turn into a weapon, and Goldie grabbed it without a second thought and flew. Her strength was running out and she couldn't freely fly around anymore; she had to finish this quick.

"Listen here, birdbrains," Spice suddenly spoke. "You're not gonna get through its thick skin, but I have a way around it."

"Yeah?" She really wanted to object to his new nickname for her, but this was no time for it.

"Right before you strike, I will burst into flames. I'll get hot enough to melt through it easily."

"And what about my hands, genius?"

"You signed up for it when you stepped foot into my temple."

He was right. She knew two things about him: he was infamous for bringing destruction everywhere he went and he governed over fire. The fact that he could burn so hot as to melt the Mountain Guardian's scales was no surprise.

"Ok, but unless you do your damnedest to match my soul wavelengths, I won't be able to wield you for the next month." Goldie warned. There was a chance that Spice didn't care, but her only option in the face of a monster that could tear apart the earth was to trust him.

"Got it." He said, trusting her to take care of the rest.

"Do you hear this rhythm?" She thought. And she knew Spice couldn't hear her, but, if he tuned in, he could feel the message without any words; that's what she was counting on. "Feel it. Play with it. Dance to it. We are one."

She pushed off the cliff side and charged at the snake, feeling the axe in her hands grow hotter by the second. She aimed at the chest, where she'd hoped the soul would be, as the axe burst into flames and she swung with all her might. Burning Spice cut right through the monster's enormous body like butter, and the soul was right there. The Mountain Guardian's body collapsed onto the ground.

"Hell yeah!!!" Spice transformed and cheered. "I haven't eaten souls in so long!"

Goldie smiled to him, but, truthfully, she wasn't just exhausted. Covered in bruises and cuts, drained of all strength, and now with third degree burns on her hands, she didn't have the energy to cheer. But she had to be strong in order to keep this guy around, so she got up and said,

"Bon appetit, you deserve it."

***

A/N: Sigh... Another battle... There's going to be a lot of those 🥲 hopefully this one was more interesting!! As this goes on, the battles will become easier to write and more interesting to read, firstly obviously because I'll be getting better, but secondly cuz they're gonna be way more about emotional stakes.

I feel so bad about this last paragraph bro 😭 the sacrifices she makes for him WILL be thoroughly addressed tho, so don't worry <3 (it's not gonna be nice tho)

Last thing I'm going to say, is I think I'm gonna make a master post for this AU, where I'm gonna primarily 1) summarize Soul Eater for people who don't know it and 2) put summaries for all the characters who are going to appear, including in future fics (cuz i have ideas for a separate shadowvani and polychamps fics, as well as a mysticao oneshot)

So yeah. As always, thank you for reading :]

[solitaire-sol]

Marauders Fandom Vent Post

CW: The following is anti-Regulus, anti-Barty Crouch Jr, anti-Slytherin Skittles, anti-Death Eater whitewashing, and a little general ranting about canon vs non-canon.

I should be finishing my Moonchaser Week fics but I made the mistake of browsing around and wow wow wow there are some truly terrible takes and I kind of really hate it.

"Regulus was abused and--" Really? Was he? Because all the info we get on him in canon is that he was Orion and Walburga's 'golden boy,' probably after Sirius started getting rebellious, definitely not reason enough to be Voldy's No. 1 Cheerleader until he was personally offended by the pursuit of immortality/mistreatment of Reg's house-elf. Just because ten billion fics follow-the-leader'd a handful of Big Fics where Sirius and Regulus were regularly Crucio'd on the daily from early childhood (and were still somehow functional when it landed Neville's parents, two adult and experienced Aurors, in the madhouse) does not make it canon. REGULUS WAS NOT A POOR ABUSED KITTEN AGAHGAHGAH

Oh, and speaking of the Longbottoms: "There's no proof Barty Jr really tortured anyone and he probably didn't even do anything at school so we don't know--"

Yeah, I guess that's fair. I mean, he was a dyed-in-the-wool Deatheater and was sent with two known murder-y/torture-y Deatheaters specifically to "take care" of the Longbottoms, who were as mentioned tortured into madness, but maybe Barty Jr was just sent along to take minutes or serve tea or something! No-one desperate to avoid Hell Prison might try to avoid it by saying they were innocent of the thing they did! We should believe the fascist fanboy who hangs out with other murderous and torturous fascist fanpeople.

"But Barty Jr was under the Imperious by his father! He was abused so--"

Yes, because his father stupidly broke his son out of Hell Prison as his wife's dying wish, tried to hide said son and couldn't control him because Barty Jr was a Voldy fanboy who kept trying to rejoin/restart their little Dark Magic gang! I'm not defending Barty Sr, he made a lot of very poor decisions throughout, but he Imperious'd Barty Jr to keep him from wandering off and doing Death Eater things like, oh, torturing and murdering Muggles and Muggleborns! There's no indication that Barty Jr was Imperius'd or cursed or abused or anything worse than having an emotionally distant workaholic father before he went into Azkaban, and there are lots of kids with emotionally distant parents who don't join hate armies and try to resume said activities after, again, his dying mother sacrificed herself for his freedom. Shockingly, Barty Jr is actually terrible!

I know, I know, it's fandom, do whatever you want, but I just don't understand this bizarre dual-vision myopia. Either canon doesn't matter, you can do what you want and ignore whatever's in the books, in which case why bother citing canon events at all? Or canon does matter, in which case your wildly speculative and sometimes outright incorrect 'facts' should at least be acknowledged as exactly that, rather than stretching the intended meaning of the phrase 'it could happen' so far that it snaps! Why are people so desperate to whitewash these murderous fanatics, they aren't even actually hot, their fans have decided they're hot and therefore should be whitewashed and I don't understanddddddd

[conangray-marauders-fest]

Reveals Day 7!

Happy Reveals Day 7!

As a reminder, please keep in mind that a lot of Conan's material (and the Marauders Fandom) can be angsty, so please mind all ratings and tags!

Teenage Werewolves Don't Dance With Posh Boys - by whoopsiesnodaisies

High School is hard when you're the new kid in town. It's harder when you're a werewolf.

Walking Alone into the Darkest Night - by HuntersWithCellPhones

After being informed that Narcissa will be taking the Dark Mark and ending her Hogwarts education early to express her devotion to the Dark Lord, she breaks everything off with Alice, but, at her parents' blood purist dinner party, she finds a moment to escape and see Alice one final time before they both fight seperate sides of a war.

Inspired by Conan Gray's 'Found Heaven'.

i can't turn away a wet dog - by lilacfiresoul

“I’m sorry, Moony,” Sirius repeats. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just … I didn’t know who else to go to. James is— he’s in Cornwall, and I don’t know where— I don’t know where his holiday house is, and I didn’t mean to come here, um, unannounced, I just …”

Realisation lands heavy on Remus’ shoulders with every word Sirius stumbles over, eventually trailing off. It’s his parents that have done this. His mother, most likely. Always his bloody mother.

OR

Wales is hit by an awful storm, and Sirius appears, bloody and covered in mud, without warning in Remus' house.

Someone Who Loves You Wouldn’t Do This - by lunasky2491

family~one of the closest forms of bonds, unconditional love, two parents joined to you by blood.

the blood of the convent runs thicker than the water of the womb~ blood runs thicker than water

two very different things, yet mistaken for the same. one offering freedom while the other entrapment.

yet blood is what seems to define you, no matter how hard you try to change, how far you try to run, it’s the one thing you will always be remembered by.

the one thing always enslaving you

the reason why they were both trapped, only a wall apart. a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. An Order member and a death eater. The best friend and the brother.

both fucked over by a world which didn’t seem to care.

left to rot in a god forsaken cell in Azkaban

The Eyes of the Night's Guard Dog - by raiynstorm

It’s 1982 and war is over, at least for most people. Remus, reeling from the deaths of his closest friends and the betrayal of another, returns to his hometown to grieve in peace. He takes solace in visiting his friends' graves but soon enough begins to notice that the dog that wanders the cemetery isn’t quite what he expected. So then, what is it?

Alley Rose - Rosekiller version - by astronomythOO

Please feel free to reblog, comment, kudos, and otherwise encourage the participants! They worked so hard!

[groundzerosgirlfriend]

Soul Eater: Dating The Trio x (F) Reader (Lime/Angst/Fluff)

For those who don't know who the trio is (in my view at least). It includes Death the Kid, Blackstar, and Soul.

To be honest, almost the entire class is excited, a new student at this time of the school year. You must be a really good weapon or meister to be allowed into Dr. Stein's class mid semester. The jittery buzz just couldn't be contained, as students tried to guess whether you were a weapon or a meister, what your weapon was if you were one, if you were a boy or a girl, and most importantly of all, if you were hot.

"Tch, why's everyone so excited it's just a new kid." Soul shrugged, as he threw his feet up on the desk in front of him, a few papers falling to the ground.

"Don't be so judgmental Soul, you haven't even met them yet." Maka rolled her eyes, as she shoved his legs off the table.

"It doesn't really matter who they are to me." Blackstar interrupted quite loudly, "because I am Blackstar, an assassin who can defeat even a God."

"Shut up Blackstar." Soul grumbled "you're literally yelling in my ear."

"Both of you shut up, I can't concentrate if you're bickering with each other." Kid interrupted, placing his pencil down as he rubbed at his temples.

"Whatever Kid." Blackstar grumbled, as he pushed Kid's pencil on the floor.

"You blue-haired idiot, my pencil was perfectly symmetrically placed and you ruined it, ruined it I say." Kid sobbed, as the three boys began arguing with one another.

Suddenly a loud creak from the classroom door silenced everybody, and there it was the moment the trio's and everyone else's jaws hit the floor. Shyly you walked into the classroom, your shoes clicking as they hit the floor, your hair shiny and silky, and your pretty skin seemingly glowing from the classroom lights.

"Class." Dr. Stein announced smoothly. "Meet Y/N L/N, our new student." Dr. Stein nudged you softly in the ribs, quietly asking you to introduce yourself.

"Hello everyone as Dr. Stein said my name Y/N L/N, I hope we can all get along and grow stronger together."

"Does anyone have any question for L/N." Immediately, almost everybody's hand shot up.

"I really don't wanna deal with this" Dr. Stein began walking out of the class, "well Y/N find somebody to sit by and answer their questions if you want I'm going on a smoke break."

"Umm alright sensei." You mumbled awkwardly, and as soon as the door shut you were bombarded with replies.

"Sit here pretty girl."

"I have a seat if you want it."

"No, no Y/N you should sit by me."

"You guys are loud." You murmured under your breath as the roar of children continued talking, as you made your way through the isles looking at desks and chairs to find a suitable seat. Quickly your eyes landed on the trio, and you dropped your bag between the middle of them on the table, plopping yourself in a chair.

"Now questions, you the girl in the bottom row what is it?" You pointed a finger lazily.

"Are you a weapon or a meister?" She timidly asks, her voice squeaking in embarrassment.

"I'm both, depending on my partner."

The entire class awes in astonishment, as you nonchalantly shrug. "Anything else."

"If your surname is L/N, does that mean your apart of that infamous tribe that's known for having that ability." You heard a voice somewhere in the back of you ask.

Closing your eyes, you nod, remembering your family. "Mhm."

"That's me Y/N L/N, daughter of the current leader of the L/N tribe."

"You know I'm apart of a clan too." You heard a voice scream on the side of you.

"You don't say." You hum quietly, as you open your eyes to look at the now grinning Blackstar.

"Yup, the name's Blackstar only heir left to the the Star Clan, but you can just call me your God." He laughs loudly, as he flexes his muscles.

"Calm down Blackstar, your gonna scare her and that's so not cool." A boy with sharp teeth, rolls his eyes hitting him on the back on his head.

As the two boys bickered you felt a hand touch your hair gingerly, "So symmetrical." He drooled, measuring you hair with a ruler.

"Umm okay." You thought to yourself, a little flattered and slightly weirded out as the boy brushed his hands through your hair.

"Any more questions." You asked, as you threw your feet up.

"What's your type hottie." A voice chuckled, the entire class agreeing with him.

"I don't really have a type I suppose." You shrugged "I just gotta like you for you."

Eventually the bell rung, and you made your way to the main hall having to pull free from the boy with black hair and white stripes as he murmured something about being asymmetrical garbage being compared to you.

Quietly, you stared at the mission bulletin board until you heard a group of footsteps behind you. "Do you need something?" You asked, plucking a paper off of the board.

"We just wanted to introduce ourselves properly, and we wanted to apologize." You heard a soft voice call.

You slowly spun around to meet face with the trio and their female friends (Maka, Liz, Patty, Tsubaki). "Apologize for what exactly?" You rose your eyebrows a little confused.

"For these three." Liz points her fingers at the trio, "More specifically him." Liz sighs heavily as Kid places his hand on your boobs.

"There perfectly symmetrical, why can't you both be more like her." He sobs, groping you rather roughly. Quickly you pull away from him.

"Umm, I don't think I have your names, besides Blackstar at least." You wave at him, as he pulls a cheeky grin from you remembering his name.

"Well I'm Liz, and that's my little sister Patty." She points towards the smiling blond girl.

"I'm Tsubaki." A girl with a long ponytail puts her hand out to shake yours quickly,

"And I'm Maka." A girl with light taupe ponytails smiles, quickly hitting a white-haired boy in the back of his head "and unfortunately this is my weapon Soul."

"Sup pretty lady." He grins cheekily, rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't flirt with the new girl." Maka yells at the boy, as he ignores her smirking at you.

"And the boy who just finished groping you is Death the Kid." Liz sighs once again, as he sobs into her shoulder.

"It's been decided I'm nothing but garbage asymmetrical garbage."

Feeling a little bad for the boy, you pat his shoulder softly "I don't think your asymmetrical garbage Kid, your actually umm...quite symetrical to me."

"Really." He sniffles.

"Mhm." You nod sweetly, as Blackstar and Soul glare at Kid quickly pulling him away from you to teach him a little "lesson". (They totally didn't get their asses beat)

You giggle as you watch the three of them argue, Patty pulling the paper you were scanning out of your hand "Are you looking at missions Y/N."

"Mhm." You nod "Gotta find a partner though." Quickly all the boys turn their attention to you, surrounding you in a love-sick daze.

"You know Y/n I'd love to be your weapon, Maka is kind of a brute." Soul grins.

"No, no you definitely would want to be the weapon of Blackstar." The blue-haired boy puts one of his arms over your shoulder.

"Get off of her you oaf, she called me symetrical she would definitely would want to work with me." Kid kisses the center of your hand dramatically, bowing slightly. But, suddenly the three of them collapsed around you their female allies annoyed, except for Patty at least.

"You all have partners already." Maka screams loudly, as the boys sat solemnly while being reprimanded.

And seemingly out of nowhere you let out a laugh "You guys are funny, I think I'll stick with you guys."

You kiss each of the boy's foreheads before you walk off, laughing to yourself as you realize you might have a little fun here.

It's been 10 months since you met the trio, 10 months of pure and utter chaos. Having to deal with Kid's OCD, Blackstar God complex, and Soul's constant nosebleeds have given you the power to do anything. In fact, you’ve had to start buying black hair dye to cover the strands of gray appearing throughout your hair due to the three musketeers who's only fulfillments in life seemed to correlate with you.

Around the eleventh month mark, though, your relationship with them began to feel a little different. They were all a little touchier with you and each other, past teasing, which consisted of being tripped or pushed into a puddle of water, bloomed into random sexual touches and innuendos, and light playful glares had turned to yearning and longing stares.

And then it happened, truly it was so casual and smooth that the moment the four of you became an official couple, you hadn't realized until a few hours later. You lay there, sprawled across the entire trio's lap, scrolling through your phone, your mind foggy.

"So Y/N.." You heard Soul whisper.

"Mmh." You grunted, shimmying on his lap a little to indicate your listening, body sore from a mission you had just previously returned from.

"We all like you, so to keep us from causing any unneeded drama we want you date all of us, that sound cool." Soul placed his hand on your stomach tapping lightly.

"Huh? Yeah whatever..." You grumbled softly, placing your headphones in your ears as you closed your eyes.

To be honest when he asked you, your brain was really muddled from a tiring mission so in your head all you heard was "like" "we" and "cool", so to get them to leave you alone you agreed to "whatever" they were saying.

Later that night as you laid in bed you suddenly shot up "Wait did I agree to be their girlfriend." You rubbed the back of your neck tiredly, as you flopped back down into your sheets "Welp can't be that bad I suppose, what's the worst that could happen."

Scenarios/Headcanons with "Soul Eater"

Fluff

★ Really likes to have you lean on his shoulder while he plays the piano, he finds it really comforting.

★ When the other two boys aren't around he'll most definitely play a jazz vinyl and slow dance with you

★ Has an identical replica of the headband he wears for you; he won't force you to put it on but he thinks it'd be really cool if you did.

"Soul" You giggle softly as you bury your face in his shoulder as your feet softly make it back to the ground. For the past twenty minutes he's been spinning and waltzing you around the entire room. "Yeah, what's up pretty lady." He chuckles, lifting you into the air once again. "Kid and Blackstar are gonna be coming over soon you know." Breathy laughs escape your mouth as you watch his eyes widen. "Oh yeah, guess that's enough dancing for today huh babe." He strolls over to the jazz vinyl that's currently playing and stops the music. "Which reminds we why don't you want the other two to see us dancing." You flop down onto the couch on your back. "Because...." He mutters "Blackstar wouldn't let me live it down, and that'd be so uncool."

Angst

★ Almost ended your relationship with him because of how nonchalant he is; ended up allowing another girl to flirt with him while you two were on a date; he realized his mistake and apologized but deep down you can't seem to forget it

★ He tends to make you insecure without even knowing; whenever he drools over another girl's boobs he tends to talk about it all day making you wish your boobs bigger to match his expectations.

★ Whenever your both arguing and he gets annoyed he just walks out on you; thinks its a rational and cool way to avoid more irritation but it hurts you and makes him look arrogant and rude.

"I'm telling you Y/n, Blair's boobs are chef's kiss." He makes a smooching sound. For the past twenty minutes he's been going on about the cat witch Blair's boobs and you were becoming a little upset. "Umm Soul can we talk about something else now?" You looked down at the ground to avoid his gaze. "I guess we can, but I'm telling you babe her boobs are just perfect." He smiles toothily. "That's great Soul, that's great..." Your words die off as you fold your arms over your chest, wishing that your boobs could meet your boyfriend's expectations.

Lime

★ Randomly bites you whenever your going anywhere this includes school; sometimes it has a sexual implication behind and sometimes it doesn't but at this point you've stop covering them up because you can't afford to spend any more money on foundation.

★ He lowkey likes seeing you angry and being told off by you; he just sits/stands there grinning as you scream for the third time that day; eventually gets so turned on that he just pulls you by the collar and starts biting your neck as you whimper softly; he might start doing things that purposely piss you off so you get on his ass.

★ If you've met his family, he'll sometimes get insecure that you'll leave him for his older brother Wes (the family prodigy) so if you wanna make sure he doesn't get insecure be real touchy with him in front of his family and I mean real touchy; rub yourself against him, casually sit on his lap, tug his hair, the whole combo they'll probably just think that you're an affectionate person but he knows the real motive behind it.

"Soul Evans are you even fucking listening." "I swear on Lord Death's name if you put your mouth on the carton one more time, I'm gonna strangle you." You groan exasperatedly as you watch Soul grin at you even harder on the couch as he runs his hands through his hair. The entire time you've been yelling at him he's been doing nothing but staring at your lips and tits as you complain. You watch as he stands up from the couch, and grabs you by the shirt, surprising you, as he whispers in your ear, "Fuck babe~ keep nagging I love it when you do." You stutter over your words when he starts to bite down on your neck harshly, "Soul don't b-bite so hard." You whimper as you wrap your legs around his waist and tug in his hair "I'll see what I can do pretty lady."

Scenarios/Headcanons with "Blackstar"

Fluff

★ Loves to spar with you, doesn't matter if your stronger or weaker he'll still go at it with you; if your stronger than him he takes this as an opportunity to learn so that he can become the best; if your weaker than him then he gets to show off his skills and make you stronger alongside him (10/10 Stan positive Blackstar)

★ Calls you royal like nicknames like Goddess, deity, Aphrodite, and Queen; rarely refers to you by your real name anymore because that's how important you are to him.

★ Will most definitely randomly pick you up during different times of the day and spin around as you squeal and yell at him; doesn't stop until the two of you fall to the ground dizzy and nauseous but laughing nonetheless.

You stood in front of the sisters as Liz complained about how they failed another mission because of Kid's Symmetry habit; all you could do was laugh as Liz complained more and more until you were suddenly spun around in the air from who you automatically knew to be Blackstar. "Blackstar put me down." You hit at his back playfully as he went even faster losing his balance slightly. "No can do Aphrodite." A playful grin plastered on his face like usual. Suddenly Blackstar tripped over his foot from his dizziness causing him to fall as you landed on top of him. "Your an idiot." You snickered quietly, as he tried to steady his breathing and sight, a goofy grin on his face.

Angst

★ Most definitely has a superiority complex so trying to talk to him during serious situation is very difficult; occasionally disregards your feeling when you confide in him

★ Always charges into battles without thinking causing him to get really injured sometimes; you despise seeing him in such a state so you try to talk to him about it; ends up missing the entire point of the conversation making you feel ignored

★Always thinks he's right, and I mean always even if the true way is in plain sight; there's usually no point in arguing with him when he gets like this because it ends in a heated argument and you hurting each other (emotionally)

Blackstar the scroll literally gives us the answer don't go screwing this up for us." You state sharply, annoyed by Blackstar's antics. "I know what I'm doing Aphrodite." He screeches loudly, as he stands on top of an old rune, pulling at the emerald, green gem in the dead center. "Your gonna hurt yourself." After one last harsh tug he pulls the artifact out, smiling triumphantly as he throws it into the air, catching it. "See told y-" His words are cut short as the roof of the temple begins to rumble, large stone bullets pelting down at the two of you. "Shit." You both say in sync, before running down a hall and out of the temple trying to avoid being hit. You eventually get out, but unfortunately not in very good shape (for Blackstar at least). As he groans in pain, you wrap his obviously painful flesh wounds with spare linen bandages. "Blackstar you have to be more careful on missions." Tears threaten to escape your eyes as he lays his head against your chest as you both sit on the ground. "I hate when you put yourself in harm's way." You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. "I'm so awesome I told we didn't need that dumb scroll to pull the gem out." Blackstar fiddles with the gem in his hand, obviously not hearing what you had said. All you can do is sigh.

Lime

★ Loves to have some type of physical touch with you; whether it's just hand holding or his arm around your shoulder he gotta be touching you; but he especially loves when you full on sit on his lap and make out with each other during Dr. Stein's lesson; this boy craves PDA, he's gotta let everyone know who's your man.

★ He loves when you praise him in general, but sexual praise just boosts his already fat ego so much; most definitely brags to the Soul and Kid about it and becomes your personal slave for the rest of the day to hear more praises from you; give them to him sparingly.

★ Likes when you claim him in front of other people; he obviously claims you a lot so when you do it back makes him really proud and turned on; just kissing his cheek in front of everybody makes him really excited

The whole class is silent as you sit straddled across Blackstar's lap as he sloppily makes out with you. You moan into his mouth as you feel your body tingle from all the stares and silence. "Blackstar people are watching." You whisper into his ear, as he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you tighter to him. He shrugs uncaringly "Let them watch Goddess, you deserve nothing but praise and worship." He pulls you back into his mouth for a few seconds before being hit in the head by Maka. "Can you two quit with the slobbering for a while some of us are trying to learn." He scoffs under his breath, quietly. "Your just mad that nobody'll kiss you, you ogre." He ended up with a few bruises at the end of the day.

Headcanons/Scenarios with "Death The Kid"

Fluff ★ He's now officially in charge of your make-up, skincare, and hygiene routine; he wants you to stay perfectly symmetrical at all times so hair grooming "his", nail care "his", eyebrow tweezing "most definitely his"; honesty it's just you being pampered 24/7.

★ Definitely loves when you pamper him during his symmetry breakdowns; and I mean the whole package baby-talking, ignoring Blackstar and Soul for a little as you whisper sweet words in his ears; planting kisses on his cheek; loves it so much that he has fake "breakdowns" so that he can have you baby him; you can totally tell when he's faking it though

★ Likes when you play with his hair finds it very comforting and relaxing and doesn't even mind if it becomes asymmetrical; he won't voice out what he wants though; however, he will place his head in your lap and bring your hand towards his hair

You're sitting down on the couch watching a movie as you hear the front door opening, you look towards the door to see Kid staggering tiredly, but not hurt. "Hey baby, how'd your mission go." He shrugs, half-assed and sits down on the side of you. You take no offense to it, assuming that it's because he's exhausted, and eventually he lays his head in your lap as you turn your attention back towards the Tv until you feel your hand being moved. You don't look down, but you feel it move towards Kid's hair until it suddenly just lays there. You smile to yourself. "You want something Kid." He moves your hand back and forth in his hair to suggest what he wants as he shuts his eyes. You oblige, pausing your movie and running your hands through his white and black hair until he completely dozes off.

Angst

★ It's really frustrating and tiring whenever you go on dates with him because he insists everything has to be perfect; even if you express that it doesn't need to be perfect; he feels that perfection should always be be strived for; if it isn't feel be in a sour mood for the rest of the week

★ He judges you really hard when you wear clothes that aren't symmetrical; and he gets really mean about it to, but he doesn't know he does; so in about 2hrs when he's done with his tantrum and wants to talk to you he doesn't even know why your refusing to even look at him.

★ Blames you if for any reason you both fail a mission; because he's Lord Death's son he doesn't think he make mistakes ; so if he thinks your 'screwing up" a little to much for his liking he'll just ignore you and try to get the job done himself muttering "useless" under his breath

You had just picked up a beautiful ivory white shirt at the mall today and you were so excited to see your boyfriend's reaction to it. Quickly you run upstairs to his room and open the door, causing him to look up from his book. "Kid," You giggle excitedly, as he puts a bookmark in between two pages. "What do you think." You twirl slowly, to show off your new top. "I got it at the mall today, Soul and Blackstar thought it was cute, but they think I look cute in everything, so I came to you instead." You watch as he eyes you up and down, a disgusted look creeping onto his face. "It's disgusting." "Yeah, I thought it was cute- wait what." You backtrack your words as Kid gets out of his chair walking over to you. He roughly pulls at the shirt not tearing it off of you but damaging the material and the hemming of it. "It's not even symmetrical you idiot, can't you at least try to look good sometimes." Tears fill your eyes as you slowly back away from Kid, who's engulfed in frustration. "Do I need to feed you as well Y/N, considering the fact that I must dress you also." You shook your head no, as you tried to speak. "I just wanted your opinion on it Kid." "Tch I'm not dating a baby Y/N, wipe your tears and come and speak to me when you've matured." You sniffle, quickly, running down the stairs to sob in a nearby bathroom. After about an hour you left the bathroom, eyes puffy, and red, and throat sore as you bumped into Kid. "Dear why are your eyes so red." He places his hands on your shoulders, having calmed down from his tantrum. You sniffle and pull out of his grasp, leaving him confused as you head towards the front door.

Lime

★ Look me in they eye and tell me this man doesn't scream body worship; if you say no your a pathological liar because he does; he compliments your appearance so often that even if you were insecure those feelings completely disappeared; hates when you cover yourself during intimate moments so if you do he praises and worships whatever your covering so you feel more comfortable.

★ He's lowkey a bondage man; but won't use ropes or anything harsh on your skin it's more likely that he'll use soft black and white binds to suspend you in the air so you aren't uncomfortable.

★ Loves to see you in pretty lingerie, very gentle and delicate when he's peeling it off of you; goes absolutely feral when your finally fully bare though; your not leaving the bed with without a limp; the color white is one of his favorite colors on you because it seems to radiate innocent and niaveness, black however is a pretty close second.

You stay buried under the sheets, lacy panties and a plain bra being the only covering your naked body as Kid neatly hangs up his shirt, pants, blazer and almost everything else he's wearing. You can't help but feel a little insecure, well, a lot insecure as Kid stands in front of you practically bare, his cock semi-hard in his briefs. This was the first time you had been naked together and you were a little nervous. What if Kid thought your body was gross? What if he gagged in disgust? Or worse vomited. "Kid I don't think I can do this." You gripped onto the sheet tightly, as he walked towards you in confusion. "Are you feeling worried, we don't have to do this of you don't want to, I won't feel upset." You shake your head, no "It's just that what if you think it's gross." "What's gross..." He reaches over to you, causing you to quickly pull away. "My body..." Your sentence trails off, as Kid roughly yanks the sheet off of you, trapping you under his frame. He hurriedly kisses your body as you squirm underneath him, wrapping your arms around your neck. "You're so beautiful dear, you don't ever need to insecure around me beautiful." He kisses down your stomach roughly. You tilt your face to the side to try and hide your embarrassment as Kid kisses dangerously close to your cunt. "Don't look away dear." He tilts your head towards him lovingly. "Allow me to kiss those insecurities away please." All you can do is nod, as you squirm and arch from his lips kissing you all over.

Headcanons/Scenarios for "The Trio"

Fluff

★ It's always chaotic when all three of them are around; definition of "crackhead energy"; most poly dates are at an amusement/water park, Soul and Blackstar's idea not Kid's; he actually kind of hates them but enjoys them for your sakes; you most definitely will be thrown into the water by the Soul with Blackstar as an accomplice of sorts; but with a few blinks of your puppy dog eyes you can get Kid on your side to dunk Soul as payback.

★ Everybody in the house has their own chore; Kid does all of the cleaning; You do most of the cooking (don't worry even if it isn't good the boys will still eat it); And BlackStar and Soul do most of the manual labor like cutting the grass or repainting a room.

★ Soul, Blackstar and Kid are all good with kids but for different reasons; Blackstar relates to their energy and hyper activeness if not even more and gets them tired and tuckered out pretty easily which makes him perfect for nap time; Kid is more of the orderly type of parent meaning everyone's birthday is memorized, favorite foods and drinks are always kept in stock and constantly has the upper hand on sports dates and other hobbies; whilst Soul is like the cool laid-back uncle who tells kids how they should deal with bullies, how to stand up for themselves and picks them up out of school early so that they can go hang out at some dingy arcade and eat greasy pizza.

"Blackstar, I swear on Lord Death's name I will kill you. Don't throw me into the water." You screamed loudly at Blackstar who was too busy laughing at you as laid thrown over his shoulder. "Don't worry Goddess, I wouldn't drop you." He easily throws your limp body over to Soul as if you were a ball and their playing a game of catch. "But Soul might." You squirm and whine in Soul's grasp as you tug at his hair in a futile attempt to make him let you go. Yet, if anything it seems to get him more pumped up and before you know it, you're beneath the pool water surface you hand easily touching the bottom of it, until you find your balance and push your way back to the top. You scramble and sputter as you cling to the pool side wall as Soul smirks at you, the image of you closely resembling a drowned rat. You let out a shaky sigh and hop back onto the poolside, your hair waterlogged, and your clothes soaked, as you lay your wet body beside Kid on a towel as he glances over at you, witness to the whole scene momentarily. " Are you alright dear." He reaches over to rub your back as you curl into his touch and sigh. "Stupid Soul... now my hair is all wet and frizzy." You yank at your locks of hair in pity and curl into Kid's body who's still gently soothing you with his hand. You pout and look up at him with the most innocent doe eyes you can muster, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at any given moment. "Help me get back at him please Kid." All Death the Kid can do in the moment is gulp, nod, and look away because who knows what he might do next of he doesn't. And it may possibly include fucking you right on the poolside until you're too weak to even go back into the water.

Angst

★ Accuse you of having a favorite boy when the seeing you hanging around somebody for unusually long periods; you try to explain that's not the case, but it doesn't really help when the boy in question has a smug look slapped on his face as he sarcastically answers their questions; everyone goes to bed hurt and upset.

"Why can't you two understand that there's nothing more special with Kid than there is with you two." You scream at a Soul and Blackstar with your head between your hands. "Then why have you been spending more time with him than you have with us." Soul's accusatory tone and Blackstar's mindless agreements sets off a spark in you as you stand up abruptly and get in their faces. Pointing a finger at them you poke Soul and Blackstar in the chest. "Maybe I spend more time with Kid because whenever I'm with you, you slobber all over some other girl's boobs." You turn your attention towards Blackstar "and maybe I'm never with you because it always ends up with me getting your ass out of trouble or with you bragging about your huge ego." You punch a nearby wall out of frustration and let tears leak out of your eyes until you hear Kid snickering under his breath about how Soul and Blackstar aren't good enough for you anyway. Shaking your aching hand off to the side, you stomp up to Kid and grip him by his shirt. "Stop saying shit like that, I love all three of you equally and if you can't get that through your thick skull then maybe..." You turn to face towards Soul and Blackstar "I shouldn't be with any of you." You wipe your tears with the back of your hand and trudge upstairs, slam the door shut, and let your soft cries whimper through the house as the three of them look at each other and then at themselves in shame.

Lime

★ 24/7 group sex; you can't escape them even if you tried; if you were really really adamant about not letting them, take you all at once; they'll each wait and stroke themselves as they wait their turn to fuck you; they'll still nag you about constantly though to convince you to change your mind; trust me you will eventually give in because their really annoying.

★ 10/10 would definitely try to fuck while you were out on group missions; It usually starts with you minding your own business and you kill and eating kishin egg souls; when usually Soul or Blackstar decide you look way to sexy, eating and killing for your own good; Kid ends up noticing their lustfulness and mocks them for a few moments before falling victim himself; they'll eventually convince you that your the needy one and they'll each take you one by one as the the other two deal with the mission; (Lord death has stopped assigning you four group missions)

"Come on babe, just a quickie." You hear Soul whisper in your ear as you chow down on another kishin egg soul. "No Soul, not right now." You push him away firmly, "If I give you one, Blackstar and Kid are gonna ask to." He grumbles something that you can't quite catch under his breath and grabs you by the waist. He rubs himself against his backside so that your forced to feel his hard-on. You swallow thickly and squirm away from away from. Unfortunately, his grasp is a little too strong and you're only riling him up. "Come on baby, I know your just as horny as I am." "But if your serious then I'll leave you be." He slowly starts to remove his hands of you and pull away to which you quickly protest. "Soul.... more please." You mumbled pulling his hand back in you. Quickly he turns you around so that you're facing him and sticks his hand underneath your clothes fondling at your breasts with his hands being weirdly cold. "Soul..." You whimper as you erratically grind your hips into his crotch. "Shit...mhm... I'm right here baby 'm not going anywhere." You can feel your panties getting stickier as you come close to your orgasm, but you suddenly interrupted by two other voices.

"Aphrodite?"

"Darling." 

Two voices pull you out of your babbling mind space and back into the ancient runes that you had forgotten you were in. "No fair Soul, how dare you try to have My Goddess without me." Blackstar quickly rushes over dropping a cloth bag out of his hand that most likely contained the artifact that you were sent to retrieve. Your head flinches in the direction as the object almost hits the ground, but luckily Kid is nearby and reaches out to grab it before it falls onto the ground. You huff a sigh of relief and flick Blackstar in the middle of his forehead for his carelessness. "Blackstar be careful... that artifact was the entire..." Your words slur off quickly as Blackstar licks and sucks at your neck leaving red marks in place. "Not s-so much teeth Blackstar." Your words die in vain as Blackstar immediately bites down onto your neck causing you to arch you breasts right into Soul's face. "F-Fuck let go." You pull out of Soul's and Blackstar's grips and rush over to Kid's side. Wrapping an arm around Kid pulls you in front of him as she scoffs at has two other lovers. "Do you to have any decorum at all." Soul clicks his tongue at Kid, slightly insulted. "Oh please, we know you want her just as much as we do." Kid rolls his eyes as his other hand reaches down and cups your pussy causing you to lurch forward. "I meant that if you're going to touch her at least be swifter with your movements. She's quite a bit needy when it comes to her clit." The three of them only look at each other, smirk, and begin to surround you. You only whine as you know it's going to be a long mission.

You definitely can't tell which of the boys are my favorite........

[strlingsav]

Based off of this ask! Sorry if it's shit, I'm not really familiar with military protocol but I gave it my best shot!

Sorry it's so late!!

Man-eater

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— You're a gifted specialist.

Explicit sexual and gory content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

You were used to the prying eyes, the staring and gawking- it came with the territory. A female soldier stationed in a combat zone wasn't standard practice, for many outdated reasons. You'd become used to the intrusion, the judgement and overwhelming criticism.

You'd earned your spot, your title. Everything you had, you'd worked hard for. Clawed through dirt, blood and mangled corpses to get where you were. Even as you stepped foot inside the base, you could feel the eyes on your back, drawing a target with sharpened knives.

You had a job, though. A purpose, which overrode any instinct to confront your audience. You made your way to the Captain's office, knocking briefly before entering, and your eyes landed on the older gentleman seated at the oak desk.

You'd heard of Captain Price through the grapevine, and Laswell had mentioned him more than a few times. He was the driving force behind the elite counter-terrorism task force, forming 141 with the mission of capturing Hassan.

You'd been briefed, a short phone call with Laswell while on your way to base. It wasn't nearly as in-depth as you would've liked, but Price insisted he needed the unit to move out that very night.

You'd not slept a wink the night before, never did on the eve of deployment, and the bags under your eyes told the same story.

"Lieutenant L/N," He said, standing to his feet.

"Captain," You nodded, bringing your hand out for him to shake.

"Heard good things about you- let's hope it's true."

"I'm well-suited to the task," You were resolute, a stoic expression that never seemed to crack.

"Laswell seemed to think so. Let's get geared up, we'll be on our way to Mexico soon."

You followed his lead, and soon you were out on the tarmac, waiting for the Blackhawk to arrive. Two other soldiers, men Price had hand-picked to join his task-force, were said to be meeting the two of you in Mexico, at the base of Los Vaqueros.

It wasn't a long journey, not with your security clearance and cars ready for transport. As you stepped off the aircraft, blades still spinning, your eyes landed on the two armoured soldiers, cradling rifles in their hands and waiting against the black paint of an SUV.

"Ghost, Soap," Price called out, beckoning the two over. "This is Lieutenant L/N." He cleared his throat, an awkward silence settling before he said his next words. "Goes by Man-eater."

You knew the way it sounded; a female soldier that must've slept around the barracks with a callsign like that. The truth was, you'd earned it, like every other thing about you. It was yours to take and you wore it with pride, no matter how it made you look.

Your first op earned you that callsign; a particularly vicious mission ending with your body covered in blood, brain matter and viscera. It was the first time you'd been afraid for your life, yet you hadn't relented from the warfare, even when things looked like they were going tits-up. It stuck after that, years after.

Your troopmates at the time knighted you with that term, both as an insult and a compliment. An ode to the brutality of your hand-to-hand combat, as well as the blatant, sexist stereotype placed on female soldiers and marines. It didn't bother you after a while, not after the novelty had worn off and it became a first name.

You could place Ghost by the way Laswell described him; anonymous. Wears a balaclava and skull mask. Soap was deployed from the Special Air Services unit. The Union Jack and SAS patch on his vest spoke for him.

"Heard of you," Soap said, hands tucked in his vest. "Lookin' forward to trackin' down this fucker with you."

"Let's get to it then."

Your gaze was drawn to the quiet, looming figure beside him. He hadn't said a word, nor introduced himself. The way Laswell spoke, he was a highly skilled specialist. You had given him a once-over, unintentionally, but managed to satisfy your curiosity for the time being.

He was tall. You fought the heat settling in your gut, a consequence of his long fingers and thick arms carrying his rifle, shoulders protruding from beneath the vest. It had been a long time since you'd felt that way, had your attention taken from a mission to stare at a man. It certainly wouldn't earn you any respect, but your eyes were glued to his form.

You broke the trance, tearing yourself from his body to climb into the SUV.

Your meeting with Alejandro was more enlightening than the conversation you'd had with Laswell. He'd gathered a lot of intel and a solid lead on the head of the cartel, El Sin Nombre. Entering enemy territory wasn't a problem for you, though you always experienced the gut-wrenching nausea that churned your stomach.

The armoured SUV travelled deep into their territory, a collection of abandoned houses used for manufacturing and transporting drugs. Every citizen had been evicted, forced to relocate so the cartel could set up shop.

"We'll clear these houses. Watch your six, don't know if these bastards are still here." Price looked over his shoulder at you, a short nod to confirm you were listening and ready.

You took position behind Ghost, who was leading. It wasn't standard practice anymore, to clear buildings without prior knowledge of habitants, but you didn't have time to waste. Entering the building, you had your rifle lodged against your shoulder, finger on the trigger.

You thought back to the many searches you'd done; the stillness in the air, a modern-age showdown of sorts. Waiting with bated breath, unflinching focus on every single thing in the room. There was never space for error, or distraction.

You recalled the horrific injuries you'd sustained, the many times you'd been forced to play medic while stranded in the desert with nothing but a hunting knife and a dirty piece of cloth. Your stories had become famous, and infamous, published in magazines and news articles.

It wasn't the type of attention you were looking for. You loved what you did, now addicted to the rush of adrenaline and smell of gunpowder. But the reputation you'd built for yourself was one that demanded respect, and that was worth every long night, early morning, and stray bullet almost taking your head off.

You knew they knew who you were; there was no reason to pretend they hadn't heard talk of you. All the better, you could work without interference, without having to prove yourself.

There was a sudden flurry of movement, tan camouflage and an automatic rifle firing short bursts in your direction. Without a moment to waste, you pulled the trigger, your eye already peering down the scope. The bullet cracked through his helmet, piercing his skull. He crumbled instantly, thick, red liquid covering the wall behind him, chunks of brain matter scattered about.

The air was still for a moment, before your comm radio buzzed to life.

"Ghost," Price's distorted voice came through the speakers. "It's Price. Heard fire, what's your status?"

He tilted his chin down, meeting the radio. "Enemy combatant still inside. Has been neutralized. Over."

"Roger."

You continued on, falling in line behind Ghost, eyes up and scanning the room. He opened a couple doors, looking inside, and once deemed clear, he carried on.

You followed close behind, when an unexpected force shoved you aside. You were slammed against a stone wall, the wind knocked out of your lungs. You grunted, scrambling to recover, letting your M4 fall to your chest and unsheathing the knife strapped to your thigh. Your hands reached out to grip the assailant, taking hold of the fabric of his uniform.

A hand wrapped around your throat, holding you against the wall while the other shoved a pistol under your chin as you struggled against his grip. You could only see his eyes- enraged, wild, scared. You gasped for air, finally gathering enough clarity to bring your knee to his groin. As he keeled over, releasing your trachea and his hold on the pistol, you slid your knife between his vest and belt, wrenching upwards.

A horrifying, gargling sound spat out of his mouth, blood splattering your cheeks, warm and heavy. You landed a kick to his gut, effectively pushing him off the blade of your knife, and he collapsed on his back, eyes dull and glassy as his heart slowly stopped.

You watched him die, the same feeling of regret, guilt, fear settling into your stomach. You swallowed, shoving the feeling to the back of your mind so you could deal with it another day, another time.

It never really worked though, even after participating in countless missions, the guilt ate at you, gnawed on every bone in your body. You'd bury it with the rest of your secrets, drown it with alcohol and try to eradicate it, just as you'd always done.

You grimaced; an unintentional reaction to the blood across your cheeks. You could feel it, on your face, your lips, scarring your cheeks with searing heat. Your lip twitched, wiping your face with the sleeve of your jacket. You cleaned the blade off on your pants before tucking it back into the sheath.

"Any injuries?" Ghost appeared, Soap following after him.

"None," You breathed, his blood staining the gaps in your fingers. "Let's keep going."

"You learn hand-to-hand as a rookie?" Soap asked, crouched and moving slowly as he followed Ghost.

"Mostly," You nodded.

"You still train?"

"I took up martial arts anytime I was on leave." You weren't invested in the conversation, not as your eyes levelled the room. "Experience helps, too."

"Christ," He muttered.

Ghost was pleasantly surprised; he'd heard of you. Heard the talk. The elusive Man-eater, known worldwide for her tactical skills; a decorated officer. It was impressive. It was even more impressive given your nonchalance after nearly being shot at point-blank range, but beneath it he could see the emotional turmoil, the gears grinding as you digested everything in a matter of seconds.

He saw fragments of himself in you, a highly-trained, highly-skilled individual with nothing more to offer anyone than your talent for violence and execution. A person the higher-ups appreciated solely for the value you offered them. He recognized it; the hundred-yard stare, the emotionless expression.

He knew better than anyone how lonely it could be, the sacrifices you made to get where you are; and he knew even more that it was hard. It was gruelling, de-humanizing, stripped down to nothing more than a vessel for the government to employ. Maybe he read you wrong, maybe you enjoyed the killing; but the way your brows twitched, your body tensing ever so slightly, he knew he hadn't.

He couldn't help but feel an attraction, which was innocent enough on its own, but the blood across your cheeks, flush in your skin; it aroused him even more. In a fucked-up way, the sight of you covered in blood, bruised and flustered, had held his gaze.

He couldn't deny your skill, couldn't deny the title you'd earned, and was enamoured the moment you swiftly took down the cartel member that ambushed you.

Though, he was still on the job, still on enemy soil, and he resigned himself to relieving the ache in his groin later on. Later, when he could picture your face, imagine what exactly was beneath the layers of armour, both physical and mental.

The mission hadn't been successful. None of the cartel members were anywhere to be found, aside from the two that snuck up on you. Everyone had left, likely tipped off by civilians in exchange for money.

You retired to Alejandro's safehouse, a fair-sized place on the outskirts of the city, tucked away from prying eyes. It was surrounded only by crickets and wild, barking dogs.

Once inside, you settled in, finishing the rations you brought, fingers ghosting the aching bruises forming along your throat and collar bones.

Price had taken first watch, footsteps on the roof alerting you to his location.

"Those look nasty," Soap commented, kicking his boots up on the table.

"Had worse," You answered back, pulling your shirt collar up over the purple and blue marks.

It wasn't a lie; or an exaggeration. You had the scars, evidence of your many overseas expeditions, memories that haunted your subconscious, even when you slept. A few scattered over your face, most on your torso where enemy militants had tried to puncture a lung or some other vital organ.

"You're quite the name," He remarked, leaning forward. "Talk of the town, if you can call it that."

"All good things, I hope."

Truthfully, you couldn't have cared less what he'd heard, good or bad. It would be the same pile of shit you'd heard for years, the disbelief, the threats, the unending, festering anger. No matter who you'd prove yourself to, it went unchanged. You'd nod and stay silent, let your actions speak for themselves.

"Aye, aye," He nodded reassuringly. "Heard you're handy with a sniper-rifle."

"Lots of practice," You pursed your lips, an attempt at a smile.

"You seem t'know what you're doin'," He nodded along, deep in thought. "Takedown today was impressive."

"Stop the interrogatin', Sergeant," Ghost's voice was monotonous, echoing around the room.

Your head turned to watch him as he crossed the floor, slowly sitting beside you on the weathered cot.

His presence was strong, whether it was because of the mass of man that he was, or the undeniable burning in your abdomen.

You hadn't slept with anyone in a long time. You'd celebrated the end of deployments at bars, clubs and the like, had your fair share of hookups, but it'd been a long time since you were satisfied. The ever-lasting drought was beginning to take its toll, you were susceptible to even your most minuscule desires. Ghost being one of them.

He was anonymous, but you could see the brown eyes behind the mask. The slight movements they made when surveying an area. You could feel them on you, watching you, scrutinizing every inch. Normally, you'd ignore the intrusion, but when his eyes met yours, you knew it wasn't because of curiosity.

"Not interrogatin' L.T. Just interested," He replied, hands rubbing his knees.

Ghost hummed in response, a short acknowledgement.

"Interested? In what?" You asked, sitting back.

"You. Renowned specialist, a female soldier deployed to combat zones around the world. Pretty damn interesting."

Your brow quirked up, unsure whether he was insulting or complimenting you.

"Not much interesting about it," You replied, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth. "Slept my way to the top."

The room was silent- awkward tension falling over the two soldiers as they took in your words. You could see the thoughts in Soap's head, unsure how to respond, whether you were serious or not.

"I'm fucking with you," You said finally, seeing the look of amusement on Soap's face.

"Christ," He shook his head. "Sense of humour on you is fucked."

Your face relaxed, not quite a laugh but a huff of air from your nose. You were relieved not to have another bout of confrontation.

"Soap," Price called, entering the room. "You take watch, I'm bloody knackered."

Soap stood up with a sigh. "We'll swap war stories another time, Man-eater."

You nodded, watching him pick up his rifle and swap places with Price.

"I'm headin' in, you two should get some sleep."

"I will, Captain," You said.

Price acknowledged you with a wave of his hand, heading off to the lodging down the hall. There was space in the house for an entire troop, bunks scattered throughout. Alejandro had thought of everything.

It left you alone with Ghost. A man of few words when he wasn't in the field- as far as you could tell. You were uncomfortable, blinking rapidly to relieve your dry eyes, thanks to the insomnia you'd experienced the night before.

You stared at the empty wall, your heart pounding in your ears. The silence was deafening, a heavy weight in each of your limbs as breaths passed between you, waiting in the tension for something to change.

"Johnny's right," Ghost said, finally, a crack in the open air, making way for conversation. "You've made quite the impression, seems."

"So I've heard," You rolled your head to the side, looking at him. "And yet, no one's given me a warm welcome."

It was your attempt at a joke, a way to lighten the tide of tension that had dragged both of you under. You had a difficult time with back and forth, teasing banter. It didn't come naturally. It never had, since you'd been promoted. You spent most of your time alone.

You had a few friends back home, likely having long forgotten about you, missing birthdays and weddings. You could never be there on a whim, couldn't be the person they needed. Not anymore, not with who you'd become over the last few years. You were sure they wouldn't even recognize you if you did go back. You didn't belong anymore.

"You lookin' for a warm welcome?"

"A little hospitality goes a long way. Gets lonely out here. I'm sure you know how it is."

It quickly transformed into something more- a vague offer to satiate the loneliness, and the desire festering in your abdomen. Your eyes dragged over his body, more than impressed with the sight. You had an inkling he'd be able to satisfy you; to give you reprieve from the aching hole in your chest where a family should be.

"I do," He nodded. "Can drive a man mad."

He met your gaze, a moment of realization when you kept his attention, unblinking and stiff. He could recognize the glossy veil of lust in your eyes, and the way your thighs were pressed together. It was a showdown, waiting for the first to break, to give in and make a move. He didn't mind being the bigger person- especially not with the streaks of dried blood across your cheeks, your lips mocking him with every word.

Two, highly talented individuals, pent-up and frustrated. He could never resist- especially once he'd seen you in action. Nothing aroused him more than a woman with a bit of aggression, passion. And a woman who could challenge his own abilities was an invitation for desire.

"But, no warm welcomes here, sweetheart," He adjusted himself, sitting up taller. "Think an English welcome'd suit you better."

You narrowed your gaze, slowly removing the kevlar vest strapped to your chest. He watched with an uninterrupted stare.

"Are you offering to show me?"

He leaned closer, his knee knocking into yours.

"If that's what you'd call it."

Standing to your feet, you shut and locked the door. He lifted the vest from his torso. Unbuckling his belt, he kept his eyes on you while you did the same.

He wasn't one for undressing, but you were quite the opposite. You'd stripped down to your bra and panties while he'd only managed to yank off the fitted long sleeve.

He could see it now- every single scar. Every memento of deployment, a different type of chest candy. Though, as strong and determined as he'd heard, and seen, you were, he knew you ached to have someone take care of you. Please you, satisfy you without having to ask.

"Come 'ere," He said, his hand finding your waist.

Quick, precise movements lead you to his lap, swinging both legs over his thighs to straddle his waist. You were nimble, years of martial arts and training made you fast on your feet.

"Take off the gloves," You said, heavy breaths of anticipation fanning his chest.

"Thought you were disciplined," He shot back.

You shook your head, "Only where it counts."

"Counts here. Mind your manners, sweetheart."

You shivered- most men you'd met outside of the military allowed you to take control without much participation on their end. Ghost's blatant demand was invigorating; you'd finally met your match.

"I will," You whispered, leaning forward to his ear. "Please." Your eyes were begging, pleading for his touch.

You could feel his shoulders tense, a low growl of approval leaving his lips. The image of a calculated killer straddling his thighs made his cock hard.

His hands gathered around your hips, gently pulling you forward to grind your centre across the stretch of his lap. You could feel just how hard he was, your thighs flexing as you helped push yourself forward now. He was staring, watching for any hint of a reaction. His head tilted to the side, your nostrils flaring softly with every harsh breath; masking the pleasure.

He lifted the sports-bra over your head, his eyes drawn to the sight of your perked nipples and soft flesh. He exhaled, strained.

His fingers trailed down your thigh to your pussy; clothed in only your panties, he tugged them aside, a gloved finger teasing at your clit. You gasped, a full-body twitch as his fingers circled your clit, the rough fabric making your toes curl.

He hummed, appreciative, inquisitive, invested in your pleasure. Leaning forward, you used his shoulder for balance as you rolled your hips against his fingers, silently pleading for more.

He slipped the gloves off his hands, meeting your skin with a searing temperature that made you gasp. His fingers returned to their post, now moving a bit quicker. He squeezed two fingers inside you, grunting softly as you absorbed him, wet and tight.

Your head fell back, arms hanging around his neck as you let yourself fall into the pleasure-filled stupor, ignoring the way his eyes studied you. Your soft stutters of 'yes' and 'please', fingernails digging into the balaclava covering his neck, he snickered- a dark and appeased sound.

"Look at you," He uttered. "Fuckin' hell."

Your head rolled forward, eyes glaring into his. His voice was rough, worn, fucking irresistible.

His fingers hooked inside you, now determined to bury them, he leaned forward to meet your chest. It was an attempt to get closer. He could smell you from a a mile away, but now he could detect the hints of fruit in your shampoo. He buried his face against your shoulder.

"Lift my mask up, sweetheart."

You did as he asked, rolling it up just enough to finally meet his lips. Scarred, but plush and wet. He'd been licking them.

His lips met your chest. Gentle, savouring kisses against your breasts, before he wrapped his lips around your nipple. He sucked softly, and when a small gasp left your lips, he grazed the sensitive bud with his teeth. You pursed your lips, arching your back into his chest. He was messy, but dedicated to his craft.

The combination had you close to your climax, your body filling with rigidity with every flick of his tongue, fingers. He was still flexing his fingers inside you, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust of your hips. He'd paid attention to your breasts, biting and licking with unbridled vigour.

You pulled him close, hands gripping his neck, your abdomen tensing before your toes curled, your pussy clenched down around his fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless in his lap, gasping and moaning as you perched forward, leaving every piece of you in his hands.

His chest rumbled, "Bloody hell- cummin' already? Been neglectin' yourself."

Your mouth went dry, the twinge of hunger in his eyes was intimidating. You'd been in worse positions than now, but his hold on your body was even more terrifying. Vulnerability was terrifying.

You nodded, still panting as you regained your stamina.

"Go on," He nodded his head to the pillow on the cot.

You slid off his lap, landing on the cot. You sat up, gasping softly when he hovered over you, grabbing your thighs and pulling you down to meet his hips.

"You been needin' a good fuck?" He asked, his triceps and biceps bulging as his arms supported the weight he held over you.

You nodded, "Fingers don't always get the job done."

He smiled softly, a mutual understanding. Neither of you were truly the type to seek out a hook-up, especially while deployed, but the tension and magnetism between you was impossible to ignore. It had just appeared in front of you, unintentionally brought together by bloodshed and violence.

He pulled your thighs apart, eyes landing on the glorious sight of your glistening pussy, red and swollen with the effects of his fingers.

He leaned in closer, unzipping his fatigues.

You felt the head of his cock rub against your clit, his hand gripping the base as he guided himself against you. Your eyes dropped to the sight of his cock, throbbing with an intense blood rush, slowly disappearing into your pussy.

You thighs were pushed back, nearly touching your chest, when he plunged inside you. No warning, no patience; you gasped. It was uncomfortable, until he moved his hips and spread the arousal seeping out of you over the length of his cock. Then, he could glide in and out with ease, discomfort quickly replaced with pleasure.

Your eyes widened at him, watching his chest expand as he sucked in a deep breath. You'd wrapped around him so perfectly, practically dripping from your earlier orgasm.

"Fuuuckin' hell," He drawled, lips tight with restraint, a twitch in his shoulders. "You're goddamn tight."

You fell back off your elbows, dropping onto the hard surface of the cot. He rolled his hips, still exhaling sharply, his cock rigid with the liquid desire in his veins. Your back had arched into his chest, your arms finding your hair, tugging sharply to alleviate the growing impatience.

His hips hit yours, languid strokes that threatened to hit your cervix, deep and deliberate. Your thighs had his waist in a tight grip, rolling back with every thrust, your lungs collapsing into themselves as you moaned.

He gave only soft pants, low grunts of pleasure, sucking in the saliva pooling in his mouth at the sight of you. Breasts recoiling with every thrust, skin flushed with your heart pounding, eyes wide with pleasure. He buried his face against your shoulder, inhaling your smell, moving to grip your thigh as he picked up his pace.

You took the skin on the back of your hand between your teeth, biting down to resist moaning too loudly. A burning scorch of pleasure twisted inside you, your lungs tightening with each strangled moan.

He was heavy on top of you, so close you could feel his abdomen against yours while he drove his cock into you. You couldn't handle the teasing strokes, the edge of orgasm so close- you wanted, needed, to be in control.

You wrapped your thighs around his, hitching your ankles behind his knees to twist his body. He had no choice but to follow, falling onto his back while your hands gripped his shoulders. You perched forward, sliding back down on his cock with such swift motions he lurched forward when he felt your pussy encase him again.

His hands gripped your hips, eyes widening with shock- and pleasure.

"Goddamn fuckin'-" He cursed, his lips shutting when you lifted your hips, pushing forward.

You couldn't hide your smirk, the undeniable rush of confidence as you slowly tugged apart the seams of the giant soldier beneath you. Your head fell back when your fingers gathered over your clit, rubbing furiously while your hips matched the pace.

You were a determined woman, hell-bent on getting exactly what you wanted when you wanted it. Ghost did nothing but lie against the cot, hands squeezing and massaging at your waist and hips. He was mesmerized, the waves of your body, feeling of you wrapped around him, riding him so fervently he couldn't help but pant softly.

He'd become so violently entranced, his fingers were sure to leave bruises over your skin, grasping and clawing at what he could to ensure you'd never fucking stop. His low grunts were a bit louder now as you worked toward your orgasm, he could feel the twitching in your body, your pussy tightening with each teasing flush of pleasure.

You unravelled, spasms between your thighs, your stomach tense as the haze of your climax crept over you. A strangled moan left your lips, deep and genuine. You were nearly suffocating his cock, clenching down so hard he couldn't resist it anymore.

"Fuck," He groaned, his head falling against the pillow while his body went rigid. "Get off," His voice was strained, rushed.

You gathered your senses, rushing to lean closer while he tugged at his cock with his hand. You slid to your knees while he turned to see you, your tongue stuck out, mouth wide open for him to use.

He finally combusted, a growl leaving his chest as he painted your tongue white. It was warm, salty. Hastily, you closed your mouth, swallowing.

He still had the expression of exhaustion, frustration, pure ecstasy over his face as he watched you swallow.

"Fuckin' hell," He huffed, doing his fatigues back up.

You did the same, dressing and making sure you were presentable in case Soap needed relief.

It was awkward, regardless of whether he'd just been inside you or not. You weren't sure how to navigate the situation, how to go your separate ways without ever feeling the ache of yearning in your chest. He felt the same, of course, a quiet tension falling over the two of you.

"Thanks," You said, a short, incredibly out-of-touch statement. "For the welcome." Almost a joke.

He raised a brow- certainly not expecting that kind of response. He couldn't deny, it was the first time he'd felt any kind of uncertainty; unsure how to proceed after delving into such an intimate interaction. But, he was also sure that he'd do it all over again, any time you asked, so he threw another vague offer into the air, hoping you'd bite.

"Y'know where to find me, Man-eater." A profound emphasis on your callsign nearly made you roll your eyes, patronizing in every way but irresistibly charming.

You finally cracked; almost a smile, just enough to let him know you might take him up on his offer sometime- soon.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 12 - Look

@jegulus-microfic August 12, Word count 642

Previous part First Wolfstar part

“James,” He breathed, still reeling over the information he’d learnt and the supposed prophecy. 

“Seriously, how did that book even get into the pile? I didn’t put it there, and I’m sure you didn’t. Why would you pick out a book on forestry? You wouldn’t, so how did it get there?” James was still ranting about his wasted time on the wrong book. 

“James!” Regulus snapped, getting James’s full attention. “I found it. I found the way to defeat Voldemort. And there was also this weird…” He couldn’t finish his sentence as James strode around the desk and lifted him into the air. 

“You are amazing,” James beamed at him. Regulus felt slightly precarious, he tilted forward a fraction. His hands flew up to steady himself and landed on James’s chest. He could feel the strong muscles beneath his fingers and the vibrations rumbling in his chest as he spoke. “I can’t believe you did it. So now all we need to do is figure out how to speak parseltongue.” James spun Regulus around in a circle before gently placing him back on his feet. “Come on let’s have a break. I’m sure Flitsy will have dinner ready any moment,” He took out his watch and checked the time. “Yep, she’ll be after us any second to get us out of here and force us to eat whatever delicious meal she’s made,”

“We don’t have time, we need to keep looking for answers,” Regulus argued. James’s hands were still on his waist and he was beginning to feel flustered. 

“I don’t think we have a choice in the matter. She will hunt you down with a wooden spoon. She’s done it before. One time, Sirius and I were,” James started, but Regulus pushed his hands away from him and stormed back into the shelves of books. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?” James called after him, but he ignored it. He shook his head to get rid of the ridiculous notion that James felt anything for him at all. To James, he was just Sirius’s death eater little brother, nothing more. He was stupid for hoping for anything else. But when James had picked him up and spun him around. 

He slammed his hand onto a shelf. The skin stung where he’d made contact. “Hey, what’s going on?” James had followed him. 

“Nothing,” He muttered. “There’s just so much to do,” He took the nearest book off the shelf, ‘Look into my crystal ball’. He quickly shoved it back, he’d had enough of prophecy and the like for today. 

“Don’t lie, Regulus. Something is eating you up inside, I can see it. What’s wrong?” James crowded him. He couldn’t move apart from pushing back into the bookcases. “You can trust me, Regulus, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to,” James looked at him kindly, and he didn’t know if it was his smell, the warmth or the fact that he was exhausted and just wanted something good for a change.  Regulus reached up, put one hand on the back of James’s neck and the other on his cheek and brought him closer. 

He pressed his lips to James’s and he melted. James inhaled sharply, but then his hands came up and grabbed hold of Regulus’s hips, dragging him closer with his strong hands. He kissed Regulus back and Regulus could have cried. 

“Dinner is being ready! No more playtime, Master James," James stepped away from Regulus and turned to the house elf. 

“Yes, Flitsy,” She waited for them to move, tapping a wooden spoon on the side of her leg for emphasis. Regulus was in shock. He couldn’t believe James Potter had just kissed him back and when James took his hand and led him from the library towards the dining room, his stomach did a happy little flip. 

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