#also Ray has more lines than I remembered

[maxlarens]

pairing(s): engineer!george russell x driver!reader

brought on entirely by this ask thank you anon i owe you a great debt😭 also light angst beware.

You’re more angry than anything.

What a stupid mistake, taking the turn like that. Too hard too fast too reckless. Never careful enough, like George always presses you to be. You feel shame churning in the hollow of your chest in the back of the safety car.

You’re on the way to medical. You would be even if you didn’t have an ache in your neck. Something sharp in your chest. You’ve fractured a rib, you think. Broken it even. You know this feeling, the whiplash of a crash. Waiting to have your injuries confirmed.

You think of the car, the smell of smoke registering as you took a second to reorient yourself. To remember all of your limbs. Ringing in your ears, then George. George, prompting your reply over and over. Tone clipped, hurried, near-frantic, still-professional. The car is on fire. You need to get out of the car, now. And your limbs snapping back into awareness, into motion—

You’re fine now. Angry mostly.

You let the doctor check you over, refer you for an ultrasound for the rib. It hurts when they press on it. You’re left with a manila folder to give to your team and an order to take it easy for the rest of the day.

Outside the medical building you can hear the cars on track. It puts something sick in the pit of your stomach. At least it’s only FP2. You’ve not utterly ruined a race, and the team still have time to fix your mess. Still. Still.

You turn a corner to make your way back to Mercedes hospitality, you find George instead.

He looks like someone’s taken a livewire to him. His head of usually soft curls is messy, hair standing half on end. He’s got those serious, shell-shocked eyes that always appear when his smile vanishes. You frown as his head snaps to you, alerted by the sound of gravel underfoot.

“Shit,” you blink and he’s already halfway to you, “Are you alright? What did they say?”

His hands are on your shoulders, pulling you toward him and you’re not thinking anything in particular about that. Just grappling with his sudden closeness. His apparent worry. So apparent that someone’s sent him here to medical, to you instead of having his valuable input on the pit wall.

“I’m fine,” you push his hands off you, “I’ll just need an ultrasound. It’s nothing.”

“Did they check you for smoke inhalation?” he presses on, despite your attempt at deflecting, “Your car was on fire.”

You shrug, shake your head, “I dunno, George. They checked my breathing I guess.”

You hear a sharp intake of breath and feel him start to move toward the building. You grab his wrist, haul him back, knowing he’ll march you in there and demand they check if you don’t reassure him.

“I’m fine,” you insist, “No smoke inhalation. Not even a cough.”

He’s looking down at you, jaw set, the line of his mouth severe. So serious as he checks you over like he has x-ray vision— as if he can see things the doctors can’t because he’s more worried than they are. You’re keenly aware of your fingers looped around his wrist, the feeling of his pulse, his skin, the tender way his hand reaches to grab your wrist in kind.

Your relationship feels different here. In this moment.

The closeness of a driver and her engineer has never escaped you. From the moment you met him for the first time in Brackley— tall, cheerful, a bit awkward, a little overbearing— you’d known that you’d be close. That’s the nature of it. You didn’t have to be charmed by his sincerity to predict that.

But you’d grown closer than you would have ever thought. You know his quirks, his idiosyncrasies. How he has his tea, the clothing brand he buys all his clothes from, the way speaks to waiters like they’re old friends, the overly friendly nature that masks a man who’s just nervous people won’t like him. He knows yours.

Your proclivity for being reckless on track, because winning is everything and what are you if you’re not a winner? How you have three shots of espresso in your coffee every morning. The way you cry your eyes out at father-daughter moments in movies. Your ache to be loved and your accompanying fear of commitment.

George is like no-one else. No ex, no best friend, no situationship knows you like George does.

Inside and out.

Anyway. Your hand on his wrist, your aching rib, him standing outside medical when he should be on the pit wall. It makes your head spin.

He closes the distance between the two of you. Hauls you into his flat chest and weaves his fingers into your hair, cradling the back of your head like he might lose you. Something wells in the top of your throat. The back of your neck feels gooey, soft, as he holds you. As if all the tension is easing out of you.

You take a deep breath, wrap your hands around his waist. Fireproofs against the bare skin where his Mercedes polo has hiked up. He says something into your hair that you can’t hear. The tone of it gets you anyway, the fondness.

You hiccup, hating yourself for it.

Then you’re crying. Shock of the crash wearing off, unable to ignore the comfort of being held up physically and emotionally by George. Tears, wet, hot are streaming down your face. Soaking George’s shirt.

“You’re okay,” he says into your ear, rocking the two of you back and forth in the gravel, “You’re okay, I promise.”

You know you are. Logically. But hearing George say it makes it easier to believe. You think, even, that he might be saying it for himself too.

[anantaru]

— telling him “i'm glad i didn‘t break up with you that one time”

including scaramouche, diluc, alhaitham, kaveh x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, a little sad (kaveh's part), we‘re so evil

— scaramouche

feathery, fluffy clouds breezily dotted the expanding sapphire blue sky as the incandescent radiant rays of eternal warmth— like fireballs, drifted across the sizzling nation of pristine wisdom.

scaramouche mellowly declined his head into your supple lap while you were indulging your trusted presence on a secluded area a bit away from sumeru city— his hair was deep tinged and glinted eminently, dark indigo locks that were lucently aglow from the smoldering sun riveting your frames.

you can still remember it vividly, the spellbound rays tottering down on your body as you nimbly closed your eyes for a second while carelessly scurrying your hand over his silky hair. It was rather comforting to him and you were aware that your boyfriend must've been immoderately drained from his taxing work load.

and by any means whatsoever, within the strong comfort of the fateful consolatory spot, a— you could say, brilliant yet a shade evil idea transited into the deepest edges of your psyche.

you pretended to listen to whatever scaramouche had to proudly talk about as your hand carried on to gladsomely delve further around his scalp, jovially motioning aimless symbols on his head.

his eyes wander shut at the closeness of you when he idly shifted the conversation into another topic, "this is fine." he speaks mousy— his breathing was fluttery and bounteous with love, yet although his voice was not lined out of lustrous silk, it did not trickle in an even consistent tone, you had treasured it nonetheless and his voice was your glaring favorite. "this— this feels fine."

that was it, the perfect timing, you suppress a devilish grin and got ready for your disguised scheme coming into wicked play, "it really is." you tried to respond in a false articulated stainless voice, "—and i'm so happy i didn't break up with you that one time."

bordering on a comical sight right under where your boyfriend was presently marveling on your lap, scaramouche had now instantly bolted up to meet your eyes in a part spread sight— but now something changed, an expression akin to filtered shock and discontent. "what?"

in all respects, he was done with his spoken words, because what made you want to break up with him in the first place? what instance in your past togetherness had been enforcing those negative, cruel emotions in you that you even thought about it?

it was a hurting, clear thought— additionally pestering him and it was more horrific than anything else pressuring his goddamn mind.

"what, what?" you silently ask beneath the lines of your regulated breathing, scaramouche never looked so lost before and you tightly bristled your lips together in an pursue to not blast your evil cover.

"what did you mean by that?" if he had to choose, scaramouche would rather have someone repeatedly run him over with a carriage than be in this clashing conversation, "you wanted to break up with me?"

to your appreciable surprise, he did not let his inner rage come to broad daylight, rather was he willing to figure out what has been going on that made you think that. Now, with the concern being all written across his pretty features, you felt as if you should come clean before he actually gets a heart attack from your wrongful play.

"tell me what i did, i will fix it—" the compression in his emotions had inflated as you snappily got a hold of his squishy cheeks, instantly cupping his face, "i'm so sorry, i'm messing with you." though you ended up awkwardly laughing with a sorrowful grin as to lighten up the damaged mood, scaramouche's mouthing took a turn— slightly dazed but also fed up, the penetrating gaze of him, previously a tone lower but now plumb with a diverting split on his lips.

"you.." the little mewl exposed more than a simple intrigue, "you will regret this." with an eye on him you leaned forward to kiss your boyfriend but scaramouche was one step ahead. He speedily took both of your wrists in his palm and dropped you on your back— making you lose stability of your body.

"oh, what's gotten into you?" he asks— innocently enough for you to believe it at first before he was puncturing specific places on your stomach, fronting matter to pinch and tickle the skin, "ah!" you cry out, whining at the burn, "i'm sorry i'm sorry!"

"don't do that anymore." scaramouche kept you on edge— exactly where he wanted you to be, "or i'll give you a taste of your own medicine."

— diluc

inside the limits of your prevailing ventures, you so happen to find yourself nonchalantly strolling over to your boyfriends tavern— the angels share, where he was, at this time, in the midst of closing the bar after another successful night.

in related manner was it a regular practice you'd follow closely, it being to do your utmost greatest to spend as much time as possible with your primarily preoccupied partner— granted that it was centrally you both walking home and then falling asleep shortly afterwards in your shared bed, though that alone made it worth it to you.

diluc found himself greatly engaged in properly cleaning up the bar counter and putting away a bottle of unused dandelion wine as you ardently knocked on the door with your signature thumps— so he knows it's you, before letting yourself pass through.

pristinely, diluc did not have to look up to see that it was you entering the bar— for one, as mentioned prior, was it the initial bangs on the large door the both of you had originally turned a habit as a humorous joke, as well as the recognized spreading presence of you being more than enough for him to figure it out.

he composes himself as his warm eyes then, without an ounce of wavering, flicker without delay to wholly greet you with his comforting calm manner, "you're early." he reminds you, thinking out loud, each new articulation of his being thoroughly tempted out in an urged chatter— it's noticeable, how unmistakable worn out he was.

"i told you i'd come visit before you're closing the tavern." you listlessly slant back on the barstool to take a convenient seat and you lively smile at him while diluc carried on to clean a couple of the utensils that had become irksome obstacles yet shyly quelling a spiking sneer in him, unreservedly molding himself into your homely aura, "i'm glad then."

in passing, you idly watched him for a brief while until diluc unexpectedly turned to you again, catching you off guard, "oh, i have something for you." he surprisingly hummed along each new syllable and you find yourself admiring the view in front of you, his face generously shading red, "i saw them and had to take it with me."

you recollect your focus on him when diluc spoke in a charming way that sent a beguiling spike through your pounding heart before you noticed something large in his hand; a bouquet of your most beloved flowers.

his posture stiffened a little— most likely because of a miniature impale of nervousness scurrying through his flaming veins, because what if you end up not liking the well scented, thoughtful gift?

though you had loved it, of course— even more than that and as he was eyeing your reaction up close, sensing how your widened eyes coursed brilliantly as you accepted the flowers in your hands, you gaze at him in a darting loving way, tightly squeezing the bouquet in your right arm to be able to give him a hug and express your utmost gratitude to him— for him, because he simply was the best in your eyes, the most attentive boyfriend to have ever existed.

"I do hope you fancy it." his rippling skin felt comforted back in your cosy cuddle with his large hand being closely pressed on your lower back as he made you turn on him closer. "i love it."

"— and I'm so grateful i didn't break up with you that one time."

well, just hold up a second? what.

"...umm, thanks." he earned yet another eruption of laughter from you though you had roughly closed it sunkenly in you, so diluc wouldn't figure out you're actually not being serious right now, at all.

diluc— though now greatly overwhelmed but rather leaning into a more confused state of mind in terms of your sudden exclaim, manages to huff out a low sigh while bringing his attention back to you, slowly drawing himself away from your close embrace.

for a fleeting spell, you both looked into each other's eyes boundlessly astounded and bowled over— stated in a more frequent type of way; it was in actuality diluc who was looking wholly rendered at loss of words when you tried your dearest to keep your wicked giggles in check.

but then, he talks again, although pumped full with overthrowing worry in his once glowing eyes, "I'm not certain on how to appropriately tackle this conversation." he mumbles while virtually thinking out loud, "can you perhaps tell me what i did wrong so i can get better— get better for you?"

quite frankly, you couldn't take it anymore and soon your whole body was filled with great misdeed, he may not have a clue right now but in total truth you were only trying to get a glimpse of a somewhat saddened reaction out of your boyfriend— which now, might've been a little evil, though, after all, you couldn't really pass up on that perfect presented opportunity.

"you did nothing." you squeal in panic, gently placing the flowers on the bar counter to keep your attention on him, "i'm sorry i was messing with you."

you pretty much fell into his arms and diluc instantly had hugged you right back— though still in shock, his eyes growing in the size of saucers. You lied close into his shoulder and tried to lift the mood with a humane touch of your hands on his back.

"you menace." diluc reveals an adorable sigh as his chest heaved up and down, the shock still lingering deep but a smile minimally lifted at his lips when he turned to hearteningly pant out a shaky heave into your arms. "you absolute menace."

— alhaitham

"and that’s correct." alhaitham kindly affirms towards the region of your direction while being patiently sat before your pretty eyes, fixedly gulping down the nascent saliva in his mouth to enunciate his following words, "—now to the next question."

undoubtably and much to your sweet pleasure, your boyfriend alhaitham took his current, new acquired position, awfully serious!

on the whole, he was an excellent tutor— strikingly perfect for your upcoming exam which had caused you a countless amount of sleepless nights, while he was aware of your struggles, he had put it upon himself to aid you as much as he was able to.

bizarrely to you, he was a bit too serious and stern, bound and determined while forgetting to keep it natural. Yet alhaitham understands and recognizes your strengths, turning it attainable to solicit 100% of your greatest strong point, presenting you with your highest amount of concentration to study.

"how does this look?" you ask, rather confident in your mannerism as you firmly shoved the fully scribbled paper into his close direction. He looks at it with hawk eyes and crinkles his brows a little— that being an usual trait whenever he found himself in large engrossment.

"incorrect but i didn't expect you to figure it out anyways."

unfortunately to you, alhaitham had a— let's say, interesting habit of spelling out his words before actually thinking his sentences through enough, or maybe he modestly didn't give a damn about how he was perceived or presented to the audience, didn't matter to him if the person he was talking to is a stranger or his significant other, you.

one quiet, internal thought ultimately, without sweet decorations, turned into two hellish thoughts and you had yourself wonder if you were even capable to pay him back just a little bit, in your usual, evil fashion.

"that's rude!" you falsely squeal out, fearing he may have a clue on your new doings right away as you dramatically drew your hand above your heart to act out a pain in your chest.

"you asked — i answered." you could clearly see he didn't think his wording was incorrect or maybe a minuscule portion grating, so you decided to sprinkle a little sass on him, "you're right and i'd be lost without you." your eyes innocently trail to his face, "i'm so grateful you're helping me study."

you were on the verge of exploding, really, the tempting laugh was overfilling your insides but you pushed through, ending your sentence at last, "— but i'm even more grateful to myself that i didn't break up with you that one time."

alhaitham quirks a brow but did not face you right away, did you want to argue with him? or were you trying to be funny again? because speaking from past lived occasions, he wasn't new to you pulling one of those particular intrigues at him.

well, then again, what if it wasn't a tasteless, blundering joke? what if, you were serious this time, honestly would he even blame you? after all, alhaitham knew himself better than anyone else did.

"so, a break up?" he leans back into his chair before crossing his arms around his body, slowly eyeing you from your eyes, to your collarbones and back again. "mhm." you agree with a hum, although both of you being sat, he was easily towering over you with his stance alone, only making you fuse further into yourself.

"and when?" in fact, he will not let this die down, he will manage to get everything he required out of you while barely leaving you to gasp for air.

you wonder if he had already figured it out (he did), your eyes skimming over the entire table to bring your heedfulness somewhere else. "umm, i don't know!" the comedic side of it all was extremely whimsical to your boyfriend— and his plan to lure you into where he wanted you to seem to succeed as well.

"look at me." that damned voice change, nothing that you cannot withstand, nothing but that precise grab his gravelly tone color had on you.

right there, you met his doubtless, assertive eyes, unshaken in his own views. alhaitham unhurriedly leans forward into the table while holding eye contact with you, you're watching him, waiting for chaos to unfold or him laughing at how silly it was for you to even try to fool him.

"maybe next time you get lucky." he quickly wipes his tongue over his mouth, "do you know that you're really bad at acting? it's rather comical watching you try."

heavily exhaling the stored air in your strained lungs, you, wholly fed up with him, rolled your eyes at your oh so confident boyfriend who just didn't know when to keep his mouth sealed tight, "oh shut up!"

— kaveh

love and enchantment, a formidable devotion for another, highly arising out of real personal ties and notable attraction.

for kaveh, those meanings were everything and all, the totality all at once.

beyond a trace of a single doubt, it was unmistakable visible on just how much immeasurable energy and serious effort your boyfriend put into having your blossoming relationship as uplifting, easing and heart warming as possible.

you're his absorbing soulmate and his riveting gratitude and love for you— which he most definitely conveys through those honeyed, dreamy smiles on his plump lips, were sticking out a mile.

from all accessible appearances, one might as well pick up on the nurturing connection that is shared by you lovebirds and how kaveh would always come up with newfound actions to have it shown to everyone in many different varieties.

tonight, it was outside of sumeru city— on top of a idyllic meadow, with the boundless sky being set ablaze by the setting sun right above you, soon to follow was the pale, ashen crescent turned moon, vividly luminous like a silvery claw and fuck, that glittering glow in your eyes as you watched from afar, kaveh wasn't sure if he could fall in love with you even deeper than he already was.

"this is so pretty." the fresh feeling of your body thoughtlessly sloping back into the consoling ground locked out each and every paining worry from your gladdening thoughts.

"i knew you'd like it, i just knew—." kaveh keeps himself from embarrassingly tumbling over his own spoken words, his nails now clawing into his palms and leaving marks— it might've been the nervousness, he fears, although you both had been together for a good while he can catch himself quite frequently becoming shy in his mannerism.

but his phraseology meant nothing, his passing wordage, blank.

there could be sure up to a million and one descriptions to intently describe this current moment happening yet nothing would ever explain it how he saw it, how he perceived you.

aside from that, you also breathed fresh life into his somewhat monotone one, with your sneaky intrigues keeping him on edge the whole time.

"this was a good idea." you're revealing a soft glare to him, a hidden one that from the outside, appeared to be angelic and endearing, though from the inside— salted away an evil plan that was camouflaging your entire mind for the whole day.

call it stowed up curiosity or simple boredom of your person, but you cannot keep yourself from passing up on it, longing to witness kaveh leaving his protective, calming bubble for once in a while.

sure, obviously, he could get mad at you, aggravated or purely stare at you through dead, saddened eyes, but then you'd always be there to make it up to him, in your own charming ways.

kaveh plushly lays on the warm ground before idly securing one of his hands under his head, uncaringly bolstering himself up, "this reminds me of something." you suddenly claim in the direction of your lover so he can hear you, no matter what, "of what?"

in the general run of things you couldn't help yourself but smile at how quick kaveh could get fascinated or absorbed on a random topic you unhurriedly throw into his course of line— no care in the world on what it was, but if you don't tell him and keep the desired answers away, he'd regularly think about it, day on day, until you do end up saying it out loud— which you then, do. "ah, it's nothing!"

"— i'm just glad i didn't break up with you that one time, you know?"

.. silence ..

"..."

"..."

"..."

"kaveh?"

"..."

you might enquire some sort of exclaim or wonder now, did he pass out or? no silly, of course not! it did feel like he was about to suffer from a large heart attack though.

"b-break up?" he soundlessly mutters, panic, immense panic, if he can afford to say anything coherent at all but he was as still as a mouse, indistinct, until ..

"as in, breaking up? a BREAK up?!"

"oh it's nothing." you hushedly wave your hand in front of his anxious face, without concern leaving yourself to fall back and carry on to glimpse up at the moonlight sky.

"what do you mean n o t h i n g?"

"this is tERRIBLE." - "utterly TERRIBLE." deficient panic pitifully munched on your boyfriends entire being, deeply festering itself into the pitched shadows of his now darkened heart.

"wait please stop." your words did not hit him, it's like he turned himself on autopilot, his eyes large as he looked into the distance, muttering something underneath his pebbly pants which you couldn't decipher what he was babbling over. "it's a joke, please look at me."

no because maybe you did go too far and after encircling your arms around kaveh's body you held him close to you, so the repeated knocks of your heart could be sensed by him.

"i'm sorry i will never do this again." you are met with his— now glassy laced, scarlet eyes, not once does he speak anymore, because quite frankly, for a second he was scared to his very core, in a frenzy, because life without you, is no life at all, no substantial vitality.

but then, a tone of him, irregular and broken, "don't do this." - "again."

you mildly wipe the warm tears off his face and lovingly keep a couple kisses on his forehead— left cheek, right cheek, his cute nose and ultimately finished your sweet attention on his soft lips— that always tasted like roses and felt so tender on top of yours, easily crawling yourself into his lap.

"i'm sorry, i love you and i'd never break up with you, ever."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ 10

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,645ish

Summary: You continue to struggle with Logan's reappearance.

Warnings: talk of nightmares, emotional

Notes: This is a shorter chapter. Hope you still enjoy it. Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

Jean called you down to the lab. When you got there, x-ray’s of Logan’s were lining the walls and screens. Charles, Scoot, and Ororo were already sitting in front of the screens. You pulled up a chair behind them, studying the x-ray’s. You had seen Jam—Logan’s metal claws briefly and you knew that Stryker had a big part of that but Logan was never able to explain himself to you. 

“The metal is an alloy called adamantium,” Jean explained. “Supposedly indestructible. It’s been surgically grafted to his entire skeleton.”

“How could he have survived a procedure like that?” Ororo wondered.

“His mutation. He has uncharted regenerative capability which enables him to heal rapidly. This also makes his age impossible to determine. He could very well be older than you, Professor. And you, Y/N.”

“He’s turning 169 this year,” you mumbled.

Everyone’s heads snapped in your direction.

“And you know that, how?” Scott asked.

You shook your head. “He’s— He was—I can’t… I’m not ready.”

“Who did this to him?” 

“He doesn’t know,” answered Jean, trying to get the pressure off of you. “Nor does he remember anything about his life before it happened.”

“Anything?” You squeaked, a tear slipping down your cheek. “He doesn’t remember anything?”

“Y/N,” Charles called, trying to ground your emotions. “Perhaps it’s time to explain.”

“No. I’m not ready.”

He maneuvered his chair over to you. “I know. But we all deserve to know the truth about who Logan… who James is. Including him.”

You took a shaky deep breath. “His name is James Logan Howlett. He was born in 1832. I meant him in 1972 when he joined William Stryker’s team, which I was already a part of.” You looked up, trying not to let more tears fall. “He saved me from that team… we ran away. Started a life… we… we fell in love.” Your voice cracked and you quickly stood up. “I’m sorry… I can’t do this.”

You rushed out of the lab before anyone could stop you.

~~~

You needed food. You also felt like you needed to finally talk some more about your past with Logan. It had felt like a weight being lifted from you, making your realize you shouldn’t carrying this on your own. Exiting your room, you heard voices in the room next door.

“Where’s your room?” It was Logan.

“With Scott,” Jean replied, “down the hall.” You moved closer to the room.

“Is that your gift? Putting up with that guy?”

“Actually, I’m telekinetic. I can move things with my mind.”

“Really? What kinds of things?” You heard the closet doors slam shut.

“All kinds of things. I also have a telepathic ability.”

“What, like your professor?”

“Nowhere near that powerful. But he’s teaching me to develop it.”

“I”m sure he is.” You peeked around the corner as saw Logan move closer to Jean. “So read my mind.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Come on. You afraid you might like it?” 

Logan’s flirting with Jean stung you. You glanced to your side as you heard footsteps, only to see Scott joining you.

“I doubt it,” Jean replied to Logan. 

You watched as Jean raised her hands on either side of Logan’s head. She closed her eyes and entered his mind. Almost as soon as she started, she gasped and opened her eyes. Logan grabbed her hands to steady them.

“What do you see?” He asked.

Jean noticed you and Scott in the doorway. “Y/N!” She greeted. “Scott!” Jean pulled her hands away from Logan. “Goodnight, Logan.”

Logan turned, making eye contact with you. His breath caught as a brief image of you smiling flashed before his eyes. Jean walked past Scott and over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you down the hall.

“Jean?” You said, confused. 

“I saw you,” Jean stated, stopping in front of her and Scott’s room.

“What?”

“I saw you in his mind. You’re in there. His memories of you are in there.”

“Don’t…” you shook your head. “Don’t give me hope, Jean. I don’t want it.” You turned away and looked at the door that Scott had just closed. 

“The ring is yours, isn't it?” Your head fell, hands coming up to cover your face. “The engagement ring with his dog tags.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Y/N.” Jean quickly went around and hugged you. You melted into her with tears. 

“I thought he was dead, Jean… for twenty-two years, I believed he was dead…” Scott came up from behind, resting a caring hand on your back. “He doesn’t remember me,” you sobbed. “I love him and he doesn’t even know who I am.”

Jean and Scott moved you into their bedroom as your cries worsened. Neither of them noticed Logan peering out of his room. He could hear someone crying. When he noticed it was you, he only grew more curious. But before Logan could hear what you were crying about, you were led into another bedroom. There hadn't been a time in his twenty-two years of memory, where Logan’s heart ached like it did now. None of this was making any sense to him. Who were you? And what were you keeping from him?

~~~

Eventually, you ended up in your own bed. Crying should have worn you out, but you couldn’t sleep. Not with Logan in the next room over, having a nightmare. You bit your lip as you struggled to not rush over there. You didn’t want to overwhelm him. But his grunting, moaning, and cries were tearing you apart. Suddenly, you heard the familiar release of his claws and his screams.

“Help me!” Logan shouted. “Somebody, help!”

You were out of bed and into the next room before you knew it. You stood in the doorway to see Marie—or Rogue—the girl who came in with Logan, touching his face. Logan was greying, struggling to breathe. From what you had heard, Rogue was not supposed to touch others, as it could be dangerous. Rogue pulled away before you could stop her. Logan fell to the ground, trembling. You were quick to rush over to Logan’s side, placing his head in your lap to steady him.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

Scott, Jean, and Ororo rushed into the room. Jean and Scott quickly joined you on the floor with Logan. 

“It was an accident,” Rogue said to Ororo as students gathered in the doorway.

Scott, Jean, and Ororo rushed in and joined you on the floor with Logan.

“Jean, will he be okay?” You asked, trying to bury the emotions within you but clearly failing. 

“His mutation is kicking in,” Jean explained as she looked him over. “He just needs rest. Scott, help me get him on the bed.”

You watched as Scott and Jean worked together to lift Logan—and his metal skeleton—onto the bed. Jean carefully got him situated before you stood up.

“We should all get some rest,” Jean stated.

You shook your head. “I’m not leaving,” you said, pulling up at chair to the side of Logan’s bed. “Not until I know he’s alright.”

“Y/N—“ Scott tried, only to be stopped by Jean. 

Scott sighed and the two of the left to go get the students who woke up back to bed. You sat on the chair, staring at Logan. He was your James in looks, but everything else was different. Including his personality. The years and memory loss had turned him into a rough man with walls up to protect himself. You suspected that he was also claiming it was to protect everyone around him as well.

~~~

“Logan?” Charles called, feeling the man lying on the bed begin to wake.

“What happened?” Logan wondered, looking at where Charles was beside him. “Is she all right?”

“She’s be all right.”

“What did she do to me?”

“When Rogue touches someone, she takes their energy, their life force. In the case of mutants, she absorbs their gifts for a while. In your case, your ability to heal.”

“I feel like she almost killed me.”

“If she’d held out any longer, she could have.”

Logan nodded, trying to place his thoughts together. He nightmare that he was in the midst of before Rogue came in was a familiar one. The flashes of the experiment they did on him. But there were some different scenes this time. Flashes of you. You crying. You laughing. You just talking to him. Turning his head, Logan finally realized that you were curled up in a chair, sound asleep. He looked at you with furrowed brows. Something inside of him hated seeing you asleep on the chair. You should be in a bed.

“She refused to leave your side,” Charles told him.

“Who is she?” Logan repeated the question from hours before. “I think… I think I knew her… Jean jumped into my brain and I think she did something. I keep seeing Y/N’s face.”

Charles sighed. “I suggest you talk to Y/N in the morning. She is the only one able to explain things.”

“Can you at least tell me how long Y/N’s been here?”

“Twenty-two years.”

Logan’s eyes snapped back to look at you. There was something you were hiding. Between the time frame being the same and your face appearing in his mind, Logan knew that you were some part of his past. You had answers to questions that Logan had been searching for. 

“Thanks, Professor,” Logan said, sitting up. “I’ll watch her.”

Charles nodded, heading for the door. He glanced back and saw Logan out of bed, heading for you. Charles watched as Logan picked you up and gently set you on the bed, tucking you in before taking his place in your chair. The Professor couldn’t help but smile as he left the room. There was some hope for you two after all.

next chapter >

[jobean12-blog]

Can't Help Falling

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female!princess!reader

Word Count: 1,748

Summary: The more time you spend with the General, the more you fall in love.

Author's Note: I love (and hate for them) the idea that they have to be sneaky all the time and the library is a place of escape for them both so I thought having something a little extra naughty but also sweet would work. The poem I used in this story can be found HERE. You can read more about Catallus if you like. The library I'm referencing is the Ulpian Library and you can find info on it HERE and HERE. I'm pretty sure my timelines are all wonky but we can just pretend it all works out bc yay fanfic! 😁

Warnings: it's soft and sweet, semi public sex, fingering, oral (male rec), a lovely poem and a pretty library.

Marcus Acacius Masterlist

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

With silent footsteps you hurry across the stones, passing the Colosseum as it towers above you and blots out the brightest rays of the setting sun. The streets of the city are still very much alive with crowds but as you get nearer to the Forum of Trajan their voices start to fade and the warm breeze carries only the sounds of singing birds.

The Ulpia library is the same as you remember with long columns lining the courtyard and natural light filtering through every open space. There are people walking slowly along the walkways, books in hand and completely oblivious to your presence.

Even now, though you’ve spent such time together and watched him train and fight, it still feels like the breath rushes out of you when you see him. He stands taller than everyone around him, and as his dark eyes scan the courtyard, you take the time to enjoy him.

His tunic drapes across his broad shoulders, showing off his arms and legs and the ornamental stripes show off his status as General. He wears nothing on his head today and his curls blow freely in the breeze, giving him a slightly more relaxed look that makes you smile.

He turns and finds you then, standing and staring until you drop your chin under the intensity of his gaze. When you look up again, he smiles and discreetly crooks a finger at you, beckoning.

As you draw closer, he whispers, “you were staring Princess.”

“And you were not?” you shoot back, enjoying how his eyes sparkle with mischief.

Footsteps approach and you grow quiet, feigning interest in the architecture around you. A man passes by and greets the General before his eyes fall on you.

You’re recognizable even under your cloaked disguise so you quickly turn away and play shy.

It seems to appease the man and he walks off with his book.

“I have not visited this place in too long,” you tell Marcus.

With a quick look around, he gently presses his palm to your lower back and leads you deeper into the library.

“I figured as much,” he answers.

When you enter the main library room the smell of parchment and dust assaults your senses, and you breathe in deeply.

Marcus smiles and takes your hand, leading you to one of the niches where hidden inside there is a bookcase lined with scrolls and books. He plucks one from the collection and continues walking, tucking you both behind one of the floor to ceiling columns.

The bookcases press in on you from both sides and the tight quarters force you closer to him.

“Have you read any poetry by Catallus?” he asks.

“Not much,” you admit.

Anticipation spreads along your tingling skin when his lips meet the shell of your ear and he whispers, “not much…or not any?”

When you meet his eyes, he has his answer.

“He’s most known for his words on romance and love…”

You reach for the book, but he keeps it from you, his smile growing as confusion takes over your expression.

“We are going to read it here.”

“Here. But Marcus…”

“And you are going to read it to me.”

You swallow heavily, but when his palm flattens against your cheek and his warmth spreads along your skin you breathe him in and lean into his touch.

“I would have you laid out on my bed reading each and every night but given our circumstances, this will have to do.”

“Just reading General?”

His jaw clenches and his fingers press into your skin before he drags your mouth up to his. The book is smashed between you when he hauls you closer and kisses you with such urgency it steals your breath.

“One night very soon you will be mine and I will have you not out in the open with the fear of being caught but in safety where I can hear every sound of pleasure that I draw from these beautiful lips.”

The calloused pad of his thumb runs along your lower lip and his eyes wander over your features.

“Stunning,” he whispers.

Your breathing is heavy, and you grab his wrist, steadying yourself.

“Marcus,” you purr. “I fear I no longer care who hears or sees, I need you. Each night is torture.”

Because of the tall niches of bookcases surrounding you, you’re invisible from across the room, but if anyone were to walk down from the other side of the library, you would be exposed.

He bends to kiss you, starting with the corner of your mouth and humming at the contact.

“You know I could never allow that. I despise even the idea of any other man laying eyes on you.”

He turns you to face the rows of scrolls and reaches around you to open the book, stopping at a specific passage, and then moves your hand to hold it open. His finger points to the title: “Come Live With Me and Be My Love.”

“Read,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

You tongue wets your lips before you start:

“Come live with me, Lesbia, and be my love, And ignore the wagging tongues Of wilted crones and toothless geezers..”

His large hands ran up beneath your tunic, over your hips and across your stomach.

“You are so soft,” he murmurs into your neck.

Your words stutter and he stops his ministrations.

“Princess,” he orders.

You continue, willing your voice to stay steady.

“Suns rise and set, rise and set again, But we, when our brief light is blacked, Must sleep forever, and then forever.”

One of his hands smooths down your side and between your thighs. He teases the wetness he finds there, hissing out a curse when you spread your legs wider for him.

You try to focus on the words in front of you, blinking down at the book.

“Focus,” he whispers.

“So kiss me, Sweet, and kiss me plenty: First a thousand, then a hundred kisses; Then catch your breath and kiss me more: Another thousand, another hundred…”

His lips meet your neck, and at first he presses them softly against your skin then more firmly at your pulse point where he feels the hammering of your heart.

Without any warning he slips a finger inside you and starts to pump it slowly in and out. You groan, needing more and pushing onto his hand.

“Quiet,” he reminds you.

His drags his finger out and teases your clit with small and focused circles.

“Keep reading Princess.”

“I cannot,” you whimper as your hips roll. “I just…Marcus, please!”

“You can,” he says simply and pushes two fingers inside you. “Or we can stop.”

You begin reading again in a tight, stuttering cadence that drives him crazy.

“Still thousands yet till we've lost all count And must begin again, keeping Envious others guessing the sum Of how many kisses much we love.”

You string the words together and although they’re filled with a soft tenderness it does nothing to quell the heavy feeling of lust that rushes through you.

“Touch yourself,” he demands.

“Marcus,” you gasp and the book slips from your fingers.

With shaky trepidation you reach down between your legs and rub his hand brushing against yours as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.

Your legs shake and you squeeze around his fingers, your cry of pleasure muffled when his free hand covers your mouth.

When your muscles stop trembling, he keeps his fingers buried inside you and stifles his moan with his mouth pressed to your neck.

The library is now completely silent, and you realize you have no idea how loud you had been. Did you whisper each word you read? You were so completely lost in him you had no idea.

He pulls his fingers free, releasing a quiet grunt, and turns you to face him.

His lips meet yours in a desperate kiss and when you reach down to take him in your hand he sucks in a breath.

“Princess?” he asks, his eyes dark.

“It is my turn to touch you. Please Marcus.”

As if your name on his lips is his undoing, he releases you and places his palms flat on the bookshelves in front of him.

You drop to your knees, and he trembles.

“Remember, you must be quiet,” you warn with a mischievous grin.

He sucks his teeth when your hand circles around him and gently glides along his hardness. He waits, fingers digging into the wooden shelves and chest heaving, until you wrap your mouth around the tip of him.

Whatever string of words leave his lips are unknown to you and when the first taste of him hits your tongue you moan and take him deeper.

He keeps his eyes locked on you, imprinting the image onto his brain. His hips begin to rock, and he slowly pushes himself deeper, clearing trying to restrain himself.

You roll your tongue and use your hand, pumping and sucking as much of him as you can until he’s groaning a warning above you, the rhythm of his hips stuttering and slowing as he spills down your throat.

When you release him it’s with reluctance and only because he gently takes your arm and drags you up his body. He stares at you and your swollen lips then kisses you hard enough to have your back hitting the bookshelf behind with a thud.

He instantly slides his hand along the curve of your spine in a soothing manner, the only apology he can manage without breaking away.

“You are spectacular,” he breathes against your lips. “I would keep you here with me forever.”   

“But I must go,” you say quietly. “My father will surely know of my absence should I stay any longer.”

He nods and reverently brushes his thumb across your cheek before stepping slowly back.

You’re nearing the exit of the library when he reaches for your hand and pulls you into a darkened alcove.

“Just one more,” he murmurs, right before he brings his lips to yours.

It’s soft and sweet and he lingers, not wanting to be the one to pull away.

“A thousand kisses will never be enough,” he whispers against your lips.

You swallow and meet his eyes again, sweeping your fingers through his messy curls.

He presses his hand over yours as you cradle his cheek then brings your knuckles to his lips.

“Until next time, Princess.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @tripletstephaniescp

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 8 - Wire's Turn

Sabaody continued.

WC: 3.5k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

“Hurry the fuck up,” Wire growled, tugging on the chain leash that was attached to your metal collar. At least it wasn't explosive, small victories. You could only hope it would stay that way.

“I'm trying!” You pouted, practically jogging to keep up, “not all of us are eight feet tall!”

“You're not that much shorter than me,” Killer pointed out, “but I'm having no trouble.”

“I have a misleadingly long torso!” You whined, “I've only got little legs. Carry me if you're so bothered, I can't walk any faster, I'm basically running as it is.”

Wire grabbed you unceremoniously and threw you over his shoulder, making Killer snort a laugh as you squeaked in surprise. You crossed your arms against Wire's back with a pout, poking your tongue out at Killer walking behind as his shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I feel like a hunted deer,” you commented.

“Shut it or I'll drop you,” Wire replied flatly. You looked at the eight foot drop to the ground and quickly decided against that.

“Please don't,” you whispered.

You took some time to enjoy the view from all the way up there, finally taller than pretty much everyone around you. Killer's mask bobbed side to side, taking in the locals as well, while also no doubt staying on guard for potential trouble, considering where you were. For the “criminal” area of the archipelago, the town was pretty nice. Sure it was clear that most of the people here were more colourful than the usual Sabaody resident, and obviously on the rougher side. You saw a great deal of women, and the occasional man or child, wearing explosive collars, often being led by chains not dissimilar to your own.

The children were the hardest to look at, all clearly emaciated and abused. Your grand hope was that Luffy would become King of the Pirates and destroy the Red Line and all the disgusting pigs that lived in Mariejois on top, and put an end to this horrid human trade. If things went wrong and Kid decided to get rid of you, you desperately hoped Killer would take ownership of you. At least then you could expect the bare minimum care, though you still weren't sure if Killer would be the type to hit you. He was your favourite so you hoped not. Then again, Heat seemed like the type who couldn't hurt a fly, and yet you knew he burned people to death on a regular basis, a truly gruesome way to die. You tried not to think too hard about how many people Killer had murdered to get his epithet, or how many people had been impaled on the forks of the trident held only inches to your left.

Sabaody was certainly an amusing place. It was just as pretty in person as it had been in the anime, with the ground and bubble based structures all shimmering with a pretty iridescence, making everything sparkle. Bubbles floated from the ground and drew your attention to the giant trees surrounding you that formed the island, with their pale blue-grey striped trunks and vibrantly green leaves. Rays of light broke through between the trees, giving the whole archipelago an almost ethereal look, Killer's hair often glowing like he had a halo as he passed through the rays. You wondered if he knew how attractive he looked like that, with his cool fringed jeans and button-down shirt, opened to the chest to show off his muscles. It was a real shame he'd get rid of these clothes at some point in the next few years. Now there's a thought, I mean you'd confirmed it now that you'd seen him naked, but before you came here - when this world was still just fiction - what proof did you have that his arm hadn't always been scarred? It'd never even occurred to you now that he wore long sleeves, he could have been hiding those scars all along. Now that you were here though you knew that whatever caused that injury was still to happen. There was the comment Kid had made in Udon about one of Big Mom's pirates hurting one of his friends, maybe the burns would come from Charlotte Oven and his heating ability.

“Where are we going anyway?” You asked curiously. The commanders had already found an inn for the night and dropped off their stuff, as well as heading to a few different weapons stores to stock up, and cashing in some looted treasure for berri. Most supplies for the ship were taken care of by the lower ranked crewmates, which meant this was likely a personal trip.

“None of your business,” Wire huffed.

“Wire's just embarrassed cos his cocks too big for regular condoms,” Killer chuffed, “we're going out tonight, gotta be prepared.”

“Wait, so we're going to an adult store?” You perked up, “fun!”

“Don't get excited, we're not wasting any berri on you,” Killer spat back, making you pout. Still, you were curious to see what sort of things were available in this world. Sabaody was a hub city, you had no doubt it would have a wide range of the things available in this world, especially in this shadier area. You wondered what sort of toys were popular here, and what sort of technology they had. Did One Piece have vibrators? Suction toys? Remote controlled toys? Did they utilise den-dens? Now there was an intriguing prospect. Was it morally grey to use a snail for that?

“How big can it possibly be anyway?” You pondered aloud, “I thought those XL condoms were a marketing scam, I mean have you seen how big regular ones can blow up?”

“They break easier if they're too small,” Wire replied frankly, “I ain't risking that with random whores.”

“If you're so desperate for a lay why haven't you just fucked me?” You asked him, “My legs are wide open baby.” Wire was the only commander who hadn't taken advantage of your presence on the ship, in fact he'd barely interacted with you at all outside of Kid ordering him to jizz on you.

“You couldn't handle me,” Wire said smugly.

“What, I can take Kid's soda can cock but not you?” You asked.

“I'm bigger,” Wire replied with a cocky tint to his voice, “did you not see?”

“She was a little preoccupied,” Killer smirked.

“Someone was gagging me with his cock,” you frowned.

“And you loved every second of it, didn't you?” Killer teased, and you poked your tongue out at him again.

“Maybe if you're a good girl today I'll let you try,” Wire promised, “but don't come crying to me if you get hurt. I warned you.”

“Bet,” you smirked as Wire put you back down, “I'm not some inexperienced little virgin. I can take it.”

“We'll see,” Wire mumbled, coming to an open door that led to a stairwell, apparently the store was upstairs. There was only minimal signage outside, but once in the stairwell it was obvious what sort of store you were ascending to, the walls plastered with various posters of sexy, barely dressed - sometimes entirely nude - models advertising various products. There was even a sign that read ‘pets welcome’ with a stick figure pictogram of a human with a collar and leash. Ironic. The shop attendants would probably think Wire was your dom, not that you were opposed to that.

The shop held all the usual things you would expect; dildos, lingerie, anal play toys, lubricant, porn, basic BDSM gear. But there were things that you definitely didn't expect as well. For one, less vanilla dildos like the style you'd used on Killer seemed to be common, as well as many other monster themed dildos that you would more expect to have to buy online in your own world. There were all sorts of them, some you recognised that looked like Heat's, some even in pairs like his, others that looked like horse or cow, advertised as minotaur themed. You wondered if this was an effect of not having the internet here, whether it was easier in that case to just sell more exotic items in store, or if it was a result of being in a particularly shady area. There was a whole display of what you recognised to be dials, with a big cardboard cut out of some beautiful woman with purple hair in space buns, a strange visor, and barely any other clothing, advertising that these dials stored vibrations.

Wire selected his condoms fairly quickly but continued to peruse the store, so you followed him around, not that you had much choice as he tugged at your leash whenever you paused for too long. The store worker and other customers didn't even blink an eye at him leading you around, or your bound wrists. Killer was already off looking at the porn when Wire made his way to that section, and you were curious to see what sort of kinks were popular here. Once again you were suprised by the amount of monsterfucker targeted items, with magazines that featured all sorts of creatures on the front, often entangled with humans. It was strange how very photo realistic they were, were they just very good at costumes and special effects makeup in this world? You didn't think they had CGI here, because surely that would require computers. Maybe they were devil fruit users? Minks?

You picked up a magazine that intrigued you, the cover featuring a human woman not dissimilar looking to yourself, with a large werewolf and minotaur either side of her. You flicked through the pages looking at the various poses they put her in, quite impressed at the size of their cocks and how realistic they looked, surely they couldn't be dildos? They must be devil fruit users. The centrefold was an extra long page that could be flipped down, and you gasped as it revealed a almost to life scale image of the minotaur's massive cock.

“Oi, no free reads,” the shop attendant yelled from the counter, “either buy it or put it back.”

Killer and Wire both took note of the magazine you were holding and exchanged a look. “She'll buy it,” they both said in unison, making you extremely confused.

“What… but…” you stuttered as Wire took the mag from you, “I thought you weren't spending money on me?”

“We're making an exception,” Killer said quickly.

“Oh… okay,” you replied, still very confused.

The boys paid for their things and dragged you back out of the store, Wire putting you back over his shoulder to walk faster. “You liked that mag then?” Wire asked. Weird thing to ask when he'd already bought it for you.

“If you're asking if I'm a monsterfucker, or interested in fucking werewolves and minotaurs,” you replied, “my answer would be a resounding yes. You should see some of the dildos I have back home.”

“Interesting,” Wire hummed. Perhaps you could take him after all, if you were used to that sort of size. The thought of burying himself in you made his cock twitch, finding someone who could take him was a rarity, especially human. That's why he usually turned to professionals who knew their limits, no fucking around only to be disappointed when they tap out. It was unfair really that he hadn't gotten a chance to destroy your cunt, and with the clock ticking on your story being proven true or false, he might not have much time left to try you out before inevitably sold you off. Being from another world was a insane excuse for Wire, he didn't have a single inclination that you were telling the truth, but that didn't mean he wouldn't fuck you while he could. Making a snap decision he carried you to a nearby alleyway, still in broad daylight and in full sight of those walking past but he didn't give a shit. This was normal for this zone anyway, there were no kids in this area and besides, he'd seen at least three other couples going at it on the way here.

Killer followed you both into the alley and stood knowingly on watch towards the end, knowing full well what Wire wanted as the tall man put you back on your feet and rested his trident against the building. “Wire?” You asked hesitantly as he spun you to face the wall, “Oh,” you squeaked as he pushed his growing erection against your ass, pulling your hips away from the wall so he could unfasten your shorts. “Right here?” You questioned nervously, looking at all the people passing by at the end of the alleyway as he worked your shorts and panties down till they pooled at your ankles.

“Right here,” Wire confirmed, “you said you could take it, right? Don't come bitching to me if I hurt you.”

“You won't,” you replied confidently, the allure of being fucked in such a public area already making you wet. Wire grinned coyly as he pushed his fingers between your legs and felt your arousal.

“Dirty whore,” he purred, “so fucking wet already, I bet you'd let me fuck you in the middle of the street if I wanted.”

He wasn't wrong, but you didn't have time to respond before you were biting back a moan as his long fingers entered you, going straight to two of them. Wire knew exactly what he was doing, zeroing in on your g-spot while his other hand reached around your front to play with your clit as he worked at stretching you. He found it surprisingly easy to work you open to a third finger, your slick coating his fingers as your pussy tried to suck them in. His fingers were so long he may as well been fucking you with a dildo, and with the added simulation on your sensitive bud and the risk of being out in public, barely hidden in the alleyway by a watchdog Killer, it didn't take long for your pussy to clench around Wire's fingers. Your knees shook as you came, clawing at the brick wall of the building you were pinned against with a choked moan.

“Good whore,” Wire hummed, removing his fingers from your cunt and wiping them on your shirt, “now get on your knees bitch, this dick isn't gonna suck itself.”

Wire let go of your leash but as it landed he stood on it purposefully, pinning it beneath his boot and forcing you downwards by your collar. Your panties were still around your ankles as you knelt, and your mouth watered as Wire unfastened his tented shorts, pulling his impressive cock free.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped as you set your eyes on it. He wasn't fucking around, he was big. There was no fucking way you could take all of him in your mouth, and you had doubts that he'd be able to fit all of it inside you either.

“Change your mind already?” Wire chuffed.

You pouted at him out of feigned hurt before eagerly bringing your bound hands up to grasp him, unable to reach a single hand around his shaft. You stacked them one above the other to cover as much surface as possible while your tongue came out to lick the head of his cock, running your muscle over the smooth skin and up the underside of his shaft, letting the tip of your tongue slide along the slit. You did what you could to try and fit him, barely taking a quarter of him in your mouth before you were gagging, the corners of your mouth stinging from the stretch. Wire took your hair and wound it around his wrist to hold your head, making shallow thrusts into your warm mouth that made your eyes water as he pushed even deeper.

“There's a good whore,” he praised, “gag on it sweetheart, let me see those pretty tears.”

You took as much as you could into your throat, unable to take more than half of him even as your throat bulged and you struggled to control your gag reflex. There was no hope of breathing with him in your throat, his cock so thick that you felt like you were truly choking. He was clearly used to this though, giving you plenty of opportunity to catch your breath while drool ran down your neck.

“That'll do,” he said flatly, like he was bored, “stand up and take your shorts and panties the rest of the way off.”

You obediently did as he asked, noticing as you stood how people walking past would occasionally stop and try to watch, quickly deterred by a quick threatening whizz of Killer's punishers to encourage them to move along. You slipped your shorts and panties past your shoes and Wire picked you up like you weighed nothing, wrapping your legs around his hips and holding you far off the ground with your back pinned to the alley wall. His heavy cock was pinned between your stomachs as he rut the base of it against your mound. You whined in need, trying to roll your hips to rub your clit against him.

“Last chance,” Wire warned, “it's not too late to admit defeat “

“Give it to me,” you begged, “please Wire, fuck me, I want your massive cock stretching me open.”

“Alright then,” Wire smirked, pleased with your begging, and lifting you higher to line his tip up with your slick entrance, “don't say I didn't warn you.”

He watched smugly as he sank you down on his cock and your face contorted as you bit back the urge to scream. The stretch was almost too much, but it wasn't the first time you'd experienced such a large intrusion, having dildos back home that were about his size. Soon the pain melted to pleasure, but as you had guessed, he was unable to sheath himself entirely before you were gripping his shoulder painfully tight, warning him that you'd hit your limit as his tip bullied against your cervix.

“Fuck, look at you,” Wire praised, leaning back a little so he could admire the way your abdomen bulged. No human could take all of him, but he was thoroughly impressed with how much you had managed to take. “What a good girl, I'm gonna enjoy ruining this cunt.”

Not wanting to waste his time, he started a brutal pace, your overstuffed cunt making obscene sounds as Wire made quiet grunts and used you. You looped your bound wrists over his head and clawed at his back, burying your face in his cloaked shoulder to muffle your moans as your body was bounced up and down. You would no doubt have scratches all over your ass after this from the brick wall, overly thankful that he'd at least let you keep your shirt on to protect your back from the rough surface. Wire's hands holding you by your ass at least protected you a little. With his body so close to yours there was a slight grind against your clit every time he thrust up into you, raising and lowering you in time with his movements to get as deep as he could, showing off his incredible strength and control as he continuously avoided smashing into your cervix. The way he stretched and filled you meant every sensitive spot inside you was being rubbed against, your entrance stretched to its limit around him. With all that stimulation it didn't take long for him to have you close to your peak again, crying into his shoulder at the overwhelming pleasure as he used you like a ragdoll.

“Mmmph,” you mumbled into his shoulder, leaving a wet patch on his cloak from your combined tears and drool, “cu-cumming!”

There was a pattering of fluid hitting the concrete pathway below you as you gushed on Wire's cock, and you let out a stuttered whine that caught the attention of a few passersby that Killer had to clear away. “Good girl, mouse,” Wire praised, not letting up for a moment, still chasing his own high, “gonna cum soon too.”

Wire pulled out and put you back on your feet, pulling your arms over his head to unhook you but holding you under an armpit to keep you upright, unbelievably shakey on your legs from the hard orgasm. He pulled up your panties up most of the way with his other hand before jerking himself off, cumming with a grunt into the gusset of your underwear. The hot white fluid was thick against the fabric and you whined as he pulled your panties the rest of the way up, making the fabric stick to your cunt. He pulled up your shorts as well, fastening them before throwing you back over his shoulder. He spanked your ass as he made his way out of the alley, but you were too tired to respond, now truly looking like a hunted deer as you went slack over his shoulder.

“We're done here,” Wire stated as he passed Killer. The shorter man huffed a short silent laugh and followed on behind, not at all surprised to see you had already fallen asleep on Wire's shoulder.

[Next Chapter]

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[greenunoreversecard]

Kai general and Romantic headcanons

A/N:sorry if I got any of the characters wrong, I was using a combo of wiki/Google translate as I don't speak any of the languages mentioned. Pls let me know if I got any info wrong, i will gladly go in and change it to make it right.

General:

Half Indian and half Chinese.

His and nya's last name is 鄭 (Zheng), but he says it's Smith bc when they where younger he got in the habit of lying about his name so he Didnt have to deal with CPS.

His ma is from Visakhapatnam in Andhra Pradesh, and was a practicing Hindu. Ray is from the 云南 (yunnan) province, and was a practicing theravida Buddhist. Ray is ethnically from the 傣族 (dai people, also spelt Tai in english)

Before his parents dissapearances, they both brought him to their hometowns, and actively taught him both cultures and religions, which he continued to learn about and even teach Nya about after their dissapearances.

When he was 14 he bought a small boat and him and Nya rode it across the costal line, and he promised Nya one day when he was older he'd bring the both of them to their parents hometowns.

He's a Buddhist.

He speaks so many languages.

Like so many

He's fluent in Thai, mandarin and cantonese chinese, telugu, urdu, hindi, Punjabi, arabic and ninjago-ian(idk whatever language ninjago speaks)

Also trying to learn Indonesian.

He also knows yunnan dialect bc his dad would speak in it more often than not

Absorbes info like a sponge

He likes to quilt

He always wears a golden bracelet He got from his moms jewelry box after she left.

Likes to draw but is bad at it, so he colors coloring books

Introvert

He may act all confident, but he really isn't. super insecure

Soooo good with hair

Like, has all the stops. 10 step hair care routine

rivals Zanes cooking skills.

When working out focuses on building rather than lean muscle.

Mother friend

has dragged all of his friends into the water splashing festival.

Fatal flaw is loyalty and kind of hubris (it's conflicting, ik with the insecure and extreme pride, but like- it makes sense in my head. Inferiority/maybe superiority complex.)(it makes sense bc this is such me behavior. Imagine hating yourself but thinking ur the baddest bitch alive)

Likes to stare at fire

If he can't sleep he'll make a small bonfire to stare at and think

insomnia

Chronic cigarette smoker

Romantic:

Hes more show than tell

Def acts of service (me frfr)

Although, he is very cuddly.

Not in public, though. Maybe infront of the other ninja if it was a rough day

Loves to rock you gently from side to side when yall are hug

loves to give you temple kisses

He's very gentle with you, treats you like glass

You wil prolly say ily first, and he'll go;"🧍‍♂️...cool?"

He has mommy and daddy issues, but HEAVY on the mommy issues. Have fun with this hyper-independant fuck who can't accept help without feeling like a failure even though they need it (I'm not projecting you are)

Goes all out for holidays and anniversaries.

Doberman/German Shepard vibes tbh

When it's just you two he doesn't feel the need to fill the air with meaningless chatter, so if he feels safe enough to just share air without talking feel honoured and cherish it bc that means he actually trusts you.

A little rough around the edges, but will remember that thing you said 5years ago on ur first date

Most dates are chill inside and take a nap

But sometimes if he can he takes you on the town or someplace fancy

Also likes to show you his favorite childhood spots

[harmoniouseclipse]

Woe fankids be upon ye

Doing a little series where I took some ship requests on my instagram to make them fankids, this one is for me tho (jeanlisa to kick it off whoo 🙌🏻) The lineup so far is Cytham, Kavetham, Lionfish (aka Freminet x Gaming aged up probably idk how old they are canonically), Cynonari, Jealuc, and Beiguang, and feel free to send me some other pairings you wanna see (as long as they are legal pls otherwise I will ignore it 👎)

I'm gonna ramble about some headcanons and lore for them under the cut, continue with caution bc I'm insane

These two are my brainrot rn, don't even joke lad. And I wanna tell yall their name meanings too bc I like them a lot 🥹 Zephra's means "west wind" derived from Greek, and it's the feminine version of Zephyr. Tyrian was a type of purple dye used by the Ancient Phoenicians, huge huge HUGE thanks to my pookie bear @miothefish for helping me out with his name!!! Also he has Lisa's butterfly earring and you can't see bc of the angle but Zephra has the rose that went in her hair holding her ponytail <3

I'm also making a massive family tree for the characters as a go along, and just the jeanlisa tree is taking up half of the canvas bc of the KoF and Sumeru characters since Cyno is their uncle and the rest of the gang are their honorary uncles 😭 I'll be posting that once the series is done/all the requests are finished/I run out of ships and otps I enjoy

Here's an alternative version with some more info on most of the characters I wanted to briefly mention in their relation to them; Tyrian likes calling Eula his aunt too even though she was never really considered one for them so it's kind of like her unofficial title she pretends to dislike but she loves it and dotes on Tyrian 🤭 She and Diluc also helped train Zephra with a claymore and Diluc kind of became a parental figure to her in her teen years after Lisa's passing 🥺 She also feels like she's outshined by Jean and that she's not smart or powerful enough to follow in Lisa's footsteps (something that Lisa wouldn't want anyways bc it led her to her death 😔) rip zephra she's just like me fr

And yeah some Kaeya angst bc he's still going thru it I fear, and Jean is single mombossing but she's worried for zephra which me too dawg, im afraid to say she might be cooked 😦 Zephra is also kind of like a weird mix of Lisa when she was her age and Jean, where overall she's well-mannered and kind but she can be competitive and feel the need to push herself too much and pull a few strings to get what she wants from time to time. Tyrian is a ray of sunshine tho, he has not yet witnessed the horrors 💔 I do think that Jean is also a lot easier on him than her mom was with her so that also helps. He's very shy tho and wants to stick with Zephra or Razor most of the time, and they both have some nasty tan lines from going out with Razor and Klee and Fischl a lot 😔 Cyno also freaking loves them and dotes on them and Tyrian is getting a TCG addiction because of it smh, Cyno is also one of Zephra's favorite people and when she's in Sumeru she stays with him and Alhaitham (bc in my universe they are married ough I love cytham)

And (I think?) Klee physically and mentally ages slower than humans so I think she'd be technically 9 or 10, and Zephra is left with babysitting duty most of the time if she's home on break or smth 😭 Klee really looks up to her tho

Also, I wrote Tyrian's last bullet point like he was super young when Lisa died, but I think he was around 7 so he actually remembers Lisa better than I intended it to sound, he was just younger than Zephra (who was 11 at the time) and just didn't have as much time with her as Zeph did, but his most fond memory of Lisa was reading with her and she probably taught them some potion-making skills too.

I think there will be some abyss angst in here too at some point, since I hc Lisa to be probably an Abyss Lector/Harold (I forget which is which) um so thinking that Zeph and Tyrian experiencing some not normal things happening and Jean doesn't know what to do since Lisa also didn't really know what that dog in her was until it was too late 😔 That's what Kaeya's for tho since he's like the heir of the abyss???? Go off king. Also some touchy ragbros angst bc Kaeya is scared for Zeph knowing how close she is with Luc and he doesn't want him to push her away because of her being from the abyss or smth (they mostly made up but it's still a fear in Kaeya's mind both for him and Jean's kids)

I think that's all I wanted to touch on for now?? Mainly just thinking about domestic fluff and angst all the time now 🥺 Zeph not being able to be open with Jean bc she feels like a disappointment but Jean would literally actually die for her and shes proud of her no matter what ough im going to lose my freak dawg guess who my favorite fankid is it's super hard ik

Send me asks or dms or whatever for more ship requests!!! I'm having so much fun with this dawg 🫶🏻

[suzuran777]

Nitro Chiral April Fools’, 2005 - 2021

Nitro Chiral recently announced that they will probably not create any new content for April Fools’ in the future. I remember really looking forward to this every year, so I was a bit sad to hear that...! They mentioned that they might change this decision again some day, so we will just have to wait and see... To remember all of the fun jokes they’ve created throughout the years I wanted to make a fun compilation of all their previous April Fools’ jokes (or at least the ones I remember and took screenshots of). Maybe someone already posted something similar, but I had a lot of fun looking at these old pictures again! 

2005 Togainu no Chi 'Vischio Jack'. This was just one month after Togainu no Chi was released! Nitro Chiral’s website was filled with Arbitro’s hobbies. He announced that the next game will be called ‘Makeinu no Chi’ which means ‘blood of the losers’... The new main visual also shows all of them bleeding from their noses lol.

Some interesting new items... the Shiki body pillow?

2006 A year later Arbitro hijacked the official website once more and comments on each Lamento character. He seems to be a fan of Konoe but the others aren't his type... This blog describes it in greater detail (Japanese only). Second part of the website teases the Togainu no Chi fighting game (咎狗の血 餓狗 Mark of the Dogs). I kind of wish they really made this game because the description of it sounds fun.

2007 Lamento Love Love Gakuen, which was later made into a real drama CD also started as an April Fools' joke! Asato is Konoe’s childhood friend in this, Rai the student council president and Bardo’s a health education teacher. 

You can still listen to some of the audio clips from the original page here! The plot doesn’t seem much different than the real drama CD they ended up making later. 

2009 Nitro Chiral mentioned they couldn’t do anything for April Fools’ 2008, but they were back in 2009 with..one of the weirder ones. They posted a teaser of their new game, ‘Sweet Potchari’ which literally means ‘sweet chubby’ and as the name suggests, they posted art of all of the sweet pool characters, but this time they’re chubby.

You could check the profile description of each character and Kunihito’s description mentions that he’s very charming and “both men and women love him” lol. I unfortunately don’t have any high quality versions of these wallpapers anymore. Someone also recorded the voice lines, though listen to it at your own risk.

2010 This time Nitro Chiral announces a new project called 'YO! Akira'. It’s Togainu no Chi except all of the characters are replaced by mannequins and they’re kinda terrifying. They made videos in which they re-created part of the opening and the game, which someone actually saved and uploaded, so you can still watch it here...! The whole thing is a parody of Japanese sketch comedy series 'Oh! Mikey!!' which focuses on an American family living in Japan, but all the characters are played by mannequins.

This blog has some more pictures of what the website looked like. The day after this Nitro Chiral made a blog post about maybe spending too much time creating these April Fools’ jokes, but it seems like they had fun! They also had no idea what to do with the mannequins after this.

2012 I think they skipped 2011 because I cannot find any information about it, so let’s move on to 2012! Arbitro took over the Nitro+Chiral website again and changed it to Bitro+Chiral...

You could play this short visual novel on the website in which Arbitro introduced his new product line-up. A hataki (feather duster) shaped like Konoe’s tail, a life-sized Akira statue made of chocolate, Onnushi-sama's curry, and blue butter which is supposed to decrease you appetite so you don't have to eat anymore. After looking at these last two pictures I think I don’t feel hungry anymore...

This is also the year DRAMAtical Murder was released, so they changed the website too! Now it’s DRAMAtical Mother, which is of course referencing the Mother series (Earthbound). You can find some more screenshots and information here.

Aoba got his own Twitter account too this year, which someone also archived here! The Twitter account actually still exists but I believe they locked it after April Fools’ ended. 

2013 This year they focused on DRAMAtical Murder too! They transformed the website into Junkshop Heibon's webstore (the store Aoba works at in the game). It feels kind of nostalgic... 

That same year they also released a radio show in which Aoba and Mizuki work for Midorijima Radio Station. They invite Koujaku, Noiz, Clear, and Mink as special guests. This has been uploaded and fan translated, so I definitely recommend checking it out here! They also ended up selling this as a CD later.

2014 This is one I remember very well because I remember playing the short game they released. It's called ‘Osu-Boys!! ~Ikemen Ryoujoku ☆ Paradise~’ and it's a short visual novel which features the four protagonists, except they're all really clumsy and end up in some really embarrassing situations... I am guessing the artstyle is supposed to be similar to KyoAni’s Free! anime.

I don’t think I can show the full pictures here because the CGs of this game are quite NSFW, but you can probably still find them somewhere online. Aoba worked at an adult goods shop in this game though, nice new job (?). Unlike the browser games, this one could be downloaded, so some people probably still have it.

2015 Arbitro once again returns and opens his own 'hentai' museum.... yeah. Someone uploaded the theme song they made for the website, you can find it here. I believe it’s supposed to be a parody of ‘Atami Hihokan’ (an adult museum).

The website shows a map of the museum and its facilities, some more pictures can be found here. I think the art of the mascots is pretty cute this time...

You could also play this minigame on the website which also featured the four protagonists. There’s still a video of someone playing through the game, so definitely check it out if you’re interested. The artstyle has a bit of a retro feel.

2016 This year the website turned into the 'Raira-ryuu honpo' official homepage, an art school that specializes in the traditional art of ...boys love. All of the characters are drawn like famous Ukiyo-e paintings.

All of the ones above are Tōshūsai Sharaku paintings, so it was pretty easy to find which ones they were referencing!

They also re-drew all of the game covers too and the descriptions of the games were pretty funny. Midorijima was transformed into a big red-light district and the people who lived there were kicked out and are now living in poverty. I hope you’re surviving, Aoba...

This time there was also a flash game which could be played on the website, a shunga (erotic painting) puzzle. You can find all of these pictures here. Like the previous year they are heavily censored and not really NSFW. 

2017 This time the April Fools’ joke is a parody of 'The World of GOLDEN EGGS', a Japanese animation series set in an American-style fictional town, except this time it’s called ‘BOYs LOVE Nitro+CHiRAL’. I’m assuming most people who have been in the fandom for some time remember this one. They created a short YouTube video series and it had English subs. You can still find the videos if you look for them on YouTube so please watch them...! It’s all worth it for Konoe singing ‘I’m in Blue’ and the Rhyme fight.

Youji is always the victim of these awkward conversations... Some more pictures here! You can find the YouTube videos by just searching for the title of the series mentioned above.

2019 After 2017 they stopped updating their website on April Fools’, probably because they were busy working on Slow Damage, but in 2019 they did post some extra illustrations. Not the most happy kind of illustrations, featuring the protagonists and Naito-kun apologizing because they couldn’t do anything for April Fools’ that year...

2021 Unfortunately this is the last one! 2021 is the year Slow Damage was released, so it makes sense the final April Fools' joke focuses on them. It's called 'Warau Euphoria', which means ‘laughing euphoria’. It’s a reference to Japanese series 'The Laughing Salesman', so they're also drawn in a similar artstyle. 

The website has a warning that you need to be over 35 years old to enter instead of the usual 18+ warning lol. They also got Towa’s voice actor to record a couple of new lines on the webpage, if you click here you can still listen to a recording of it.

I’m a bit sad they might not do any of this stuff anymore in the future, but I’m also glad many people recorded videos of the old websites and minigames so we can still enjoy them even now. I couldn’t include every single screenshot in this blog post, so I tried my best to link other pages with more information.

I had a lot of fun checking out their website every year and I really appreciate the effort they put into all of this. I might update this blog with some additional info later!

[crinolinecuriousity]

so glad to know that weird girl culture is alive and well every year when I see the Stuck at Prom gallery... here are some faves from this year’s gallery, all of which were not finalists. 

view the whole gallery and vote for the winners here!

Lizbeth -  there were a handful of outfits that were inspired by cultures but this one was one of my favorites, a love the color scheme, the fringe, and the bow, I think she did a very good job and I could genuinely see someone wearing this on the runway!

Elizabeth - really liked her colors, which she said was inspired by a peacock at her house I think? but what stuck out to me was the gradient on the edge of her skirt and the straps

Presley - I can definitely see why she wasn’t a finalist but she also looks gorgeous, I think it’s hard to pull off a mostly solid red dress and she genuinely looks like a Disney princess

Jadyn - genuinely cannot believe she was not a finalist. like the first picture literally does not look like duct tape, you could tell me it was a fabric costume on Broadway and I would believe you.

Catrielle - another one I can’t believe wasn’t a finalist! there are always a handful of outfits that use gold but I love what she did with it. plus the shoes and the bag?? love love love

Ava - I could LITERALLY see this at the Met Gala red carpet. the detailing is insane and the skirt came out looking really nice and even. she looks gorgeous!

Ritika - there were a couple of circle skirts but this was one of my favorites. her theme of harmony seemed relevant with a lot of the current events going on as well - the skirt is colorful but isn’t distracting and I think it’s a more elaborate dress that actually manages to pull off the busier look

Veronica - I DEFINITELY think she should have been a finalist for suits. like I think this outfit is more compelling and has a cooler background (Filipina culture) than like. the white(?) guy who just made a samurai suit. I really love how she like... feminized the suit jacket if that makes sense? I think she slayed it

Madyson - this one was so fun to look at! I love the manta ray bag and the sand dollar earrings too, I would love to see a fabric rendition of this dress. you can tell she had a lot of fun making it from the pictures, too.

Eliza - this one was inspired by a Shakespeare line if I remember correctly and it really reminds me of old 80s/90s catalogues. was really impressed by the puffed sleeves!

Owen - there’s always more dresses than suits entered since most of the competitors are girls. this was a suit that was inspired by the AIDS crisis quilts, I think he should have been a finalist and he looks more put together than some of the suit finalists

Kendyl - this one was insane to me - she looks gorgeous and I could see this being a real fabric prom dress or a dress a celeb wears on the red carpet. I can’t get past the detailing and the ruffles?? insanely talented

Lily - personally I think this suit would have looked better without the rectangles on the pant legs but that being said, I love this outfit so much, you can tell what she drew inspiration from and I think it’s simple but classy and it works beautifully. I could see this on the runway!

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER ONE: Night Shift

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt has to accompany Foggy to the ER in the middle of the night because he dislocated his shoulder. In need for some peace and quiet, Matt wanders the halls of Metro General and instead finds you crying in one of the abandoned hallways. A conversation ensues.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mention of injury.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: My brain gets the strangest ideas for fics and then I have to write them or else I will go crazy. This is how this baby was born. Keep in mind, I’m not a doctor. I simply watch a lot of medical dramas and I like to research medical terms for the fun of it. Heed the warnings for the entire series (see Series Masterlist) but also chapter-specific warnings that apply, as seen above. I hope you enjoy!

Read Chapter 1: Night Shift here on AO3

Ever since he can remember, Matt has hated hospitals. The antiseptic scent that lingers in the air, the sterile white walls that seem to close in around him—it all brings back memories of days spent in agony, tied to an uncomfortable bed, and seeing nothing but an endless void of black.

He can only tune out so much. The stench, the sirens, and the overlapping voices in an emergency room—they could easily kill him. 

Hospitals remind him of what he lost. He lost his vision, he lost his father and in the process, he lost his innocence. Matt lost everything, and even though he is well aware that it isn’t the hospital’s fault that he decided to save a man or that his father made a deal with the devil and got himself killed, he still hates the same empty walls that made him feel so small to begin with.

Matt doesn’t want to be a liability, he doesn’t want to be the reason the people he loves get hurt, and yet it continues to happen time and time again.

Maybe he’s cursed. It’s the only explanation for how things are going for him now. Maybe God has a grudge and finally decided to exercise his right to make his life a living hell. There is an infinite number of possibilities, but none of them make sense. 

He’s the anti-hero of his own story and that of everyone else who has ever dared to let him into their lives. He’s his own worst enemy, his personal saboteur. His unwavering pride has a tendency to get in the way of his happiness, which often leads to more bad than good, but admitting that would leave him vulnerable and exposed—and he can’t let himself get hurt again. 

It’s better to push the people he loves away before he can hurt them and force them to walk out on him the same way everyone else in his life has walked out on him ever since he can remember. At least in his twisted mind, that’s true. 

He never thought he would find himself in Metro General again, not since Claire came into his life. Claire, the caring nurse who saved him when he was on death’s door and continued doing so until she realized that falling for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its own set of risks. 

Foggy dislocated his shoulder. 

It’s almost laughable. Out of everyone, he chose Matt to come to the hospital with him. Not Karen, Matt. He had the choice between the most empathetic person either of them have ever met, and Matt, someone so far out of touch with his own feelings, living in denial has become the standard for him. Foggy chose the latter, for whatever reason he doesn’t even seem to know himself. It just felt like the most natural thing to do, he told Matt when he asked his best friend, “Why me?”

He should feel honored that he trusts him that much, but being trapped in the sterile four walls of the hospital he only connects bad memories to while Foggy is stuck in the queue for an X-ray feels more like torture than an honorable act. 

The loud, demanding voices of the nurses, the painful groans and soft cries coming from the patients in the waiting area of the emergency room a few doors down, and the obnoxious beeping of the machines lining the walls in every room are like a swarm of bees in Matt’s inner ear. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get them out. He’s allergic to them.

The room smells of disinfectant, blood, and other bodily fluids. He tries to focus on his cologne and the scentless laundry detergent he has grown so accustomed to over the years, but the balm only lasts for a few seconds before the wound reopens and his senses are flooded.

Matt keeps rhythmically tapping his fingers on his thigh. How much longer he can sit on this uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology area and wait for Foggy to return, he doesn’t know. It won’t be long now until he loses his mind. He is about to drown in his own misery.

He feels the desperate urge to land his fist in the wall next to him. He wants to scream, cry, maybe even both—this night is not going well. He hasn’t had a good night in weeks. Tonight though, he’s stuck in the hospital rather than outside, doing something against the injustice he is forced to listen to every day.

The hits he took the previous night were pretty severe, and his ribs still hurt. The numb ache that tears through him whenever he moves is a temporary relief from the pain induced by the noise around him. Whatever bits of sanity he tries holding onto eventually slip through his fingers. 

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He gets up, his head tilting toward Foggy’s elevated heartbeat. He’s still in line. Fifth, probably.

Matt taps his cane against the floor, making his way down the hallway. He’s not quite sure where he’s going or where he will land, he just knows that he needs to get out of there as fast as possible.

Rounding the hundredth corner of the evening, the sound of clattering metal trays and medical supplies disappears behind layers of drywall and automatic doors. Matt takes a moment, and he realizes that right here—right where he is now—he can finally breathe again.

The sound travels more easily. The air wafting through the vents and over the cotton sheets on a row of empty beds is the only sound that meets his ears. They’re lined against one side of the wall. The rooms are empty, the doors locked. It seems as if in a moment of desperation, he found his way to one of the abandoned parts of the hospital. 

A lack of funding caused Metro General to cut their losses. It certainly wasn’t an easy decision, but with capitalism on the rise, public hospitals are barely holding on.

Even though the truth is depressing, Matt still can’t believe his luck when he realizes how quiet it is. That may be a selfish thought, but he can't help it. The world is always so loud and uncomfortable. Finding someplace quiet after torturing himself in the waiting room for hours feels like heaven on earth on such a busy night.

The fog dulling his senses finally dissipates. He takes a deep breath. The air is cleaner here. No disinfectant, only the faint scent of plastic and dust; he wouldn't have thought it possible that he would ever consider that combination a blessing.

That’s when he hears it—a slightly elevated heartbeat followed by a series of muffled sobs. He got so caught up in the fact that he finally found what he was looking for amidst the chaos that he forgot to fan out his hearing.

Despite what he originally believed, he isn’t alone.

The air smells of the salty essence of human tears. Matt stops dead in his tracks, not sure whether to continue his journey or to turn around and return to the uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology department.

“This nervous breakdown space is occupied,” your soft voice bounces off the high walls. It’s thick with exhaustion. Pain. Loss. He almost recoils at the all-too-familiar feeling it elicits in him.

Matt keeps his cane hugged tight to his chest, his knuckles whitening with how hard he is gripping the base. “Oh, I...I’m sorry,” he says, careful to keep his voice light. “I didn’t catch you there.”

You’re essentially a stranger to him. A troubled one, at that. You must have your share of problems or you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be crying your eyes out. He doesn’t want to intrude, but he also can’t turn around. Not now, not anymore. You’ve already noticed him.

You sniffle, your hands wiping against the soft skin of your reddened cheeks. For a moment, your heartbeat picks up in speed before returning to its normal rhythm. “It’s alright,” you assure him.

Matt picks up on the faintest hint of disinfectant and the scent of antibacterial soap on you now, maybe a little blood, and definitely antiseptic laundry detergent—you’re wearing medical scrubs.

Your shampoo smells of vanilla and some herbal element he can’t quite identify just yet. Your perfume isn’t expensive, just enough to last through a long shift and filter the sweat that is seeping out of your pores. It’s not unpleasant. You smell like someone who’s been working hard and far past your limits, too.

“Do you need something?” you ask him. 

He pauses for a moment, rethinking his answer. His lips purse. He’s not sure how to answer that without completely giving himself away.

Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Oh, just…some peace and quiet,” Matt says, finally finding his voice again. It sounds a bit more nervous than he would like to admit.

The chuckle you exhale is one of surprise and possibly even a bit of genuine amusement. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I know that feeling.”

“Well, I’ll, uh, leave you to it. Sorry again.”

“No. Don’t.”

Matt stops in his tracks when the words pass your lips. 

You pat the space beside you. Your perfume becomes a little clearer. It’s so natural, so… you. He could get high off of it. Or maybe it’s just the sleep deprivation catching up to him. 

“This is the only quiet corner in this hospital,” you tell him. “Trust me. Underfunding has its perks for introverts. Rest in peace to about thirty internal medicine beds, but lucky me.”

Your chuckle echoes bitterly off the walls. You use humor to cope, apparently, but you’ve run out of strength to pretend.

His cane begins to gently pave the way as he makes his way forward. “Do you mind?” Matt nods toward the bed you’re sitting on. 

You pat the mattress again with a shake of your head. “Not at all.”

Gentle seems to be the one word that is consistent with everything you do. He can’t get this picture he has painted of you based on the sound of your voice out of his head. Maybe you’re an angel and he has officially gone insane, or maybe there are just a lot more good people left in this world than he originally thought. 

Matt folds his cane and skillfully sits down on the edge of the mattress. You smell even better up close. Your heartbeat reminds him of a beautiful symphony, no longer as erratic as when he first picked up on your presence. 

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he says.

He can hear a sudden uptick in your heartbeat. He may have just imagined it. You suck in a sharp breath, and he’s sure he didn’t imagine that, but then you lift your hand to take his.

“Olivia,” you say. 

Matt listens closely. You have no reason to lie about your name. Your heartbeat may be faster, but it isn’t a lie. You just seem a lot more nervous and unsure than before. It doesn’t quite make sense why you would be unsure about your own name.

“Nice to meet you, Olivia.” His lips curl into a soft smile.

You smile back, he can hear it, but it lacks an essence of truth. You’re trying hard to seem like you’re okay. It’s not your fault that his senses are sensitive to all changes in the human body, even in that of a stranger he just met.

You’ve been crying, so of course, you wouldn’t be alright. The question is, why? 

“I take it you’re not part of the staff,” you say into the silence.  

“No.” Matt chuckles. “I, uh, have a friend with a dislocated shoulder,” he says.

“Ah! Let me guess, his doctor in the ER reduced the dislocation but insisted on doing an X-ray just in case, so now you have to wait because radiology has a hold-up longer than the Nile?”

A laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, that… that’s pretty accurate.”

“It’s always like this,” you say. “A dislocated shoulder doesn’t have priority. We have bigger fish to fry.”

“You work here?” he dares to ask. 

You pull at the bottom of your scrub top. “Guilty as charged. Trauma surgery. I’ve been an attending here for a little over two years now.”

“Oh, wow! That’s…that’s incredible.”

Matt has encountered his fair share of doctors in the past, but no one has ever been quite like you. You’re unique. Mysterious. An enigma. You have piqued his curiosity, to say the least, and your profession only adds to the pile of interesting things he can ponder about.

You smile at him again, but it’s still not a genuine one. “Thanks,” you drag the last syllable out, the air deflating your lungs.

He swallows. “Or it isn’t. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, that’s not… some days just aren’t that rewarding,” you say. “That’s all.”

“And today has been one of those days?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Your eyes roam over him once again.

He reaches for his hair, running his hand through it. He ruffles the brown strands until they’re covering his left temple. Matt’s not sure if you saw; there is a high chance that you did, but he can't anticipate your behavior. Not yet. 

You let out a longer breath. “Not a fan of hospitals, I take it?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “It gets… loud,” he says. 

“Sensitivity to sound.” You nod. “Noted.”

He hears the fabric of your scrubs brushing against your skin and the cotton sheets on the bed. You cross your legs, opening yourself up to him just slightly, and he wonders if you really are comfortable around him or if you’re just being kind. 

“Probably to smell as well? Feeling? Taste?” There is a soft smile laced in your voice. This time, it’s real. 

Matt chuckles. You hit the nail right on the head. You’re simply not aware of how sensitive he is to these things. “Pretty sensitive, yeah,” he says. 

That about sums it up. You nod, but you don’t push him any further. 

“Well,” you say, “The ER is pretty disgusting. And loud. And to be forced to wait in front of radiology is probably a scenario they offer as a torture device in one of the seven circles of hell.”

He can’t help himself, “It’s nine, actually.”

“Sorry?”

“Nine circles,” Matt clarifies, his lips twitching in a faint grin. “Dante’s Inferno. A good Catholic boy’s guilty pleasure.”

You let out a genuine laugh this time, and it warms his senses. It’s a rare sound in a place filled with so much pain. He can almost hear the weight from your shoulders hit the floor. The tension in the air seems to ease, if only for a moment. You allow to let yourself go. 

Your grin turns into a smirk. “Catholic, huh?” you retort. 

“Since the day I was born,” he says. “Are you religious?”

That seems to steal your breath away. You have no words. For a full minute, silence settles in between the two of you. It’s almost uncomfortable, and Matt fears he must have crossed a line. He just doesn’t know how to apologize for something he is truly curious about. 

The topic of God and religion seems to hit a nerve when it’s not used in a humorous context. There are many reasons why that could be. He spends every day battling his own religious trauma and the demons that he feels he’s harboring deep inside, but he still holds on tight to his faith. If he doesn’t have an excuse—if he doesn’t have anything to hold onto other than what broken self-respect he has left—where would he be?

You finally clear your throat after what feels like an eternity. “No,” it’s a simple answer. “I don’t believe that there is a God.”

Your mouth stays open. You want to say something else, but your lips close within seconds after the thought has passed by you, and you swallow it. He wonders what he could have learned about you if you had allowed yourself to say what you were truly thinking when the words first left your mouth. You’re holding back, and it is audible. It might even be visible. Your cheeks are running hot. 

Matt nods. He doesn’t question you. Your beliefs are yours. Most of the time, he doesn’t even believe that there is a God himself. 

“It’s hard to keep the faith in this world, especially when you work so hard every day trying to save people’s lives. When you are forced to see what the system does to those who can’t defend themselves over and over again, but you can’t do anything about it. Or when you see what people do to each other. I mean, the cruelty of human beings is unmatched, and it makes you wonder if God is just a sadist, or if maybe he isn’t even real because a gracious God wouldn’t let innocent children die,” you cut yourself off in an instant, and he tilts his head toward you in surprise. 

Your breath shudders. “I… I’ve seen too much bad to believe that there is an all-merciful God,” you say. “So I simply don’t.”

You try to meet his eyes, but all you see is your reflection in the red of his rounded glasses. Your heart breaks a little, he can hear it. Your shoulders slump. You’re defeated.

He isn’t sure how to react to that. How to help. How to be a decent human being. Matt just doesn’t have the answers you need, and it makes him question his own faith for a minute. Not that he has ever not questioned it; his relationship with God is as complicated as it gets.

You catch yourself after a moment of staring into the void of his glasses. “But… that’s my opinion. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Matt says.

You were smiling, and now you’re not anymore. He doesn’t like that. He liked it more when you were more open with him. Your legs have moved back to your chest, your arms clinging to them. You’ve retreated. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. The edge in your voice breaks his heart. 

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I get it. Injustice…it’s a parasite. I’ve encountered my fair share of good people who deserved better than what they got. You try and you fail over and over again because the world isn't fair. I’d be the last person to judge you for not sharing my beliefs.” He breaks off in a chuckle. “I'm not that kind of guy.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “What is that you do again?” You didn’t ask that question before.

“I’m a lawyer,” he states. “Defense attorney.”

“Wow,” you let out a soft puff of air, “And you chose to go to Metro General instead of jumping on the big money train to the Upper East Side?” 

Although your tone is joking, Matt can tell that there is an ounce of truth in your words.  

He hides his laugh behind a cough. He’s not sure if he’s surprised or if he actually finds that assumption hilarious. Maybe a bit of both.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “I have never even been in the same station as the big money train.”

“Oh?”

“No. We, my partner and I, do pro-bono work. We don't get paid for our services. Well, other than baked goods and overdue bills in the mail, of course.”

You chuckle. “That’s a relief. Not so much for your bank account, but ethically.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for assuming. That was prejudiced of me,” you say. “I’m not trying to judge you. I’m sorry. Rich or not, it’s none of my business.”

Matt shrugs. “It's okay. Lawyers and doctors are the two professions so many think make millions of Dollars a year, and while that may be the case for a few, a lot of us just… don’t,” he says.

“Amen! If I had a drink, I’d toast to that.”

“Yeah, well, an intoxicated doctor would not fare well in the legal sense.”

“You think that would end my career?”

“I can’t even give you good legal advice other than, don’t.”

Your giggle turns into a laugh. “Thank you for the advice, counselor.”

He joins in. “Anytime.” 

For a moment, only the two of you exist. Matt adjusts his position, but he doesn’t take his bruised ribs into account. His wince is barely audible, yet you notice it in an instant. And when his hair slips, you can see the gash on his forehead. The one he tried to stitch up himself but probably did an awful job at concealing. 

Your eyes narrow in concern. “What happened to you?” your voice barely breeches the sound barrier. 

“Oh, nothing,” he tries to shrug it off. “Just an accident.”

“An accident?”

“I am blind, you know. I tripped, hit my head. It happens.”

“Hm.” Much to his surprise, you don’t press him further. Instead, you gently reach out to brush the sweaty strand of hair from his face that he used to cover up the aftermath of his latest endeavor. 

Now that he thinks about it, his ribs really do hurt. He’s sure nothing is broken, but they are severely bruised. Even he can feel the blood pooling under the skin. 

You bite your lip, not wanting to pry. The urge is obvious to him, but only to him. You’re good at your job. You focus on the task at hand. That is probably why you became a doctor in the first place; to help people, not to pry. 

But Matt Murdock doesn’t need help. 

“It’s fine,” he assures you. 

You nod. “I believe you.”

You don’t. You’re lying. He appreciates the effort though. You try your best at making him feel comfortable and welcome. Asking questions would only drive him away; you wouldn’t be able to satiate your pathological need to help. It’s who you are.

“Whoever patched this up did a terrible job,” you say, “and I don’t want to know who did it because if you tell me it was you, I will lose my mind, so, I choose to believe you for the sake of my own sanity.”

His lips part in a soft laugh. “Yeah, you don't wanna know,” he says.

“Can I fix it?"

He opens his mouth to decline, “You don’t have to, I–”

“Please.” 

There is no arguing with you, it seems.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hallway. One of the drawers in the cart across from the bed slides open at your touch. Matt can hear the distinct crinkle of packaging and the clanking of metal. When you return to his side, your steps are a little heavier. 

“I’m going to clean the wound and then apply a butterfly bandage to help the skin grow back together,” you explain. “The cut isn't that deep, but you must’ve hit your head pretty hard when you fell. I can’t force you to get a head CT, so… If you experience any nausea or neurological deficits in the next few days, you should come back to run some tests. But—and that is not my expert medical opinion because I don’t have the tests to back it up—I think it should be fine to heal on its own.”

“Any other advice, Doc?” he jokes. 

“Well, I can’t give the same good news about your bruised ribs.” You only have to place your hand on his side and his lips come to press tightly together. “I’m guessing third and fourth,” you say. “If one of them is fractured, it makes you run at risk for internal bleeding, but to see the extent of your injuries, we’d have to get an MRI. That is not my call to make. I can’t force you to get your battle scars checked out, I can just advise you to think about it. Really think about it.”

Matt sighs. His laughter has long died. “I know.”

He doesn’t want to repeat himself. He’s fine. He has to pretend that he’s fine because he doesn’t have time for doctors or questions. Neither you nor the law can protect him from the damage that the truth would do. 

You’re disappointed, but you swallow your pride. With delicate precision, you start cleaning the wound on his forehead, the cotton swab dabbing at the dried blood. He winces at the sting of antiseptic, a subtle twitch in response to the pain.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Matt manages a half-smile. “It’s alright. I’ve had worse.”

That doesn’t make you feel better, but you accept it. You’ve learned to respect your patients’ wishes, even if that means swallowing a lie. 

As you work, your fingers graze over his skin with a careful tenderness. It’s a stark contrast to the harshness of the world he navigates outside—a double-edged sword. If he doesn’t go out there, more people die or get hurt. He would sustain the same injuries over and over again and almost die rather than pretend that evil isn’t lurking right outside his window every night. And there is a bigger storm brewing in the distance, one he isn’t fully prepared for. 

Yet.

You finish cleaning the wound and proceed to carefully apply a fresh bandage. Matt can feel the cool adhesive against his skin. Your touch is soothing, almost comforting, and he allows himself to relax.

“There,” you announce softly. “All patched up.”

Matt lifts his hand to touch the bandage, a habit he developed over the years to reassure himself that someone cared enough to tend to his wounds. “Thank you,” he answers. 

“No biggie.” You shrug with a tiny smile, and that makes him smile, too. It shows him that while you are displeased with his lack of respect for himself and his health, you aren’t mad at him. You just care.

The shrill beeping of your pager tears a headache through his skull.

You curse under your breath. “I’m so sorry,” you say as you skim over the text that has been sent to you. “The, uh—the ER needs me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly responds. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go. Save a life!”

You’re reluctant at first, but then your lips curl into a broader, more genuine smile, and in the heat of the moment, you grab his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Matthew,” you say. “Take care of yourself.” 

Your footsteps retreat and your heartbeat gets fainter as you walk down the hallway. He’s speechless. He doesn’t even remember how to say goodbye. 

“Oh, and do me a favor?” You stop momentarily just to ask him, “Get those ribs checked out?”

His mouth opens and closes like that of a fish on dry land. “Sure,” he says. 

“Thank you,” these are your last words to him before you take off running. 

Both of you know though that once he is out of Metro General and on his way home, he won’t come back. Not for himself, at least. And it is something you have to accept as much as he has to accept the fact that you are long gone, off to save a life in the very four walls that seemed so scary to him all alone only fifteen minutes ago.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @littlehappyperson @danzer8705

[silent-stories]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟓

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie finds a note in his locker and doesn't know that someone has a plan to destroy his relationship with you.

Warnings: mention of drugs

Part 4

"Thanks for staying Friday night and helping me with all that stuff, really." You said as you sat next to Eddie on a bench at the back of the school.

It was a quite hidden place, but not to hide but just to not be disturbed and have a more intimate moment, with just the two of you.

The sun was shining that morning and you noticed that when Eddie's pale skin was kissed by the rays of its light you could see many small freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks.

They were almost invisible, you yourself had never noticed them before but they were there.

And you liked them.

You found yourself wondering if they were more visible in summer, if they were also on the skin hidden by his clothes, if they covered his back and what it would be like to trace imaginary lines with your fingers to connect them.

"Don't worry, I did it with pleasure." He smiled as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and your gaze immediately fell on the bats tattooed on his arm.

"Thanks for asking me to come." He added after a few moments, his words little more than a low whisper, an almost shy edge to his voice.

"Thanks for asking me to come?" You repeated his words bewildered, perhaps a little too melodramatic. "You absolutely saved my night, which would have been boring and lonely without you."

He chuckled. "Then I think we're even."

"Yeah, I guess we are."

Eddie pulled a metal lighter and a pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket.

"Do you mind if I smoke?"

"Go ahead." You reassured him before he lit a cigarette, before bringing it to his lips.

"Anyway, Bones has been sitting all weekend where you were, on my bed. I think she misses you, you know? She probably likes you more than me."

"That means I'll have to go back to your house sooner or later." He laughed. "Just for Bones, of course."

"Oh sure. I know she'd like to have another movie night with you soon or just, I don't know, listen to music and talk about the meaning of life at 3 in the morning. Maybe without half school at my house."

Eddie looked at you with a doubtful expression. Was he really still wondering what you were trying to say?

"Yes Eddie, I'm inviting you to my house." You laughed shaking your head. "Friday or Saturday night, maybe? What do you think?"

Eddie stared at you with his big dark eyes, almost hesitant, and for a moment you thought he was saying he didn't want to come, but then a huge grin appeared on his lips before he covered it with his hand, bringing the cigarette to his mouth.

But you saw it, you never missed it when he smiled. You always liked to see him happy.

"Yeah. Yeah, I would like to."

You smiled. "Good."

"Good." He repeated blowing some smoke out of his mouth, the ghost of a smile still on it.

"So, did you seem them?" Jason asked as he sat across from Aaron at the noisy high school cafeteria table.

"Who?" Asked the other before stuffing half a sausage into his mouth.

"Y/N and the freak. At the party. I was dead drunk but I remember them. Holding hands." He added the last part with a grimace, to express his disgust.

"Gross. Don't remind me." Aaron commented, his eyes wandering around the cafeteria, finding Eddie at the usual table eating in the company of his friends

All losers, just like him.

Aaron spent hours spreading the word about the party, getting all those people over to your house to spend time with you, and when the party finally started you were stayed on the couch the entire time until he came and you completely disappeared, with him.

He ruined everything, as always.

Jason had explained who Eddie Munson was, Aaron knew everything about him: he was a drug dealer, he was part of a satanic cult and listened to some kind of music praising his demonic activities, he was poor, he lived in a smelly trailer, just like him, he no longer had his parents. They probably didn't want someone like him around them either.

Maybe he didn't know everything, but it was all he needed to know that Eddie "the freak" Munson wasn't a good person and he didn't even want to see him around you.

Atound the girl he'd wanted from the first moment he'd seen her.

When he had seen him arrive at the party he had thought that someone had played a joke on him and had invited him, he thought maybe it was you.

And you really had invited him, but it wasn't a joke and when Aaron saw you holding hands he nearly spat out his drink.

You were friends. And he found that disgusting.

"Someone told me they stayed in her room all night. You think they fucked?" Jason asked.

"Okay, stop it!" Aaron blurted out. "I don't know what they did but I have a plan."

The girl he had a crush on since he moved to that shitty town couldn't end up with a sucker like Eddie.

"A plan for what?" Jason raised his eyebrows.

"To push them away, whatever they have going on, I don't like it. And then Y/N will be mine."

Aaron was like Jason, they both wanted what they wanted when they wanted and they thought they were the best at everything they did.

The only difference was that Jason acted without thinking and wasn't as smart as he thought he was, but Aaron could calculate, manipulate people and be convincing.

And that was what made him more dangerous.

Eddie opened his locker and immediately a note fell to the floor.

Before picking it up he looked around suspiciously, it wouldn't be the first time someone slipped some notes with insults written on them into his locker.

Instead, when he took it in his hands and opened it, above it he read:

"The bench in the woods, Today, 4am"

Eddie knew what it was right away, or at least he thought he knew, at the time: someone wanted to buy drugs after school and the woods were the perfect place, away from other people and far enough from school.

That afternoon, Eddie waited for about half an hour sitting on that bench, his old lunchbox filled with various narcotic substances next to him.

When he had lost hope of anyone showing up, a voice made him turn around.

"You can put that stuff away, I'm not here for that." Aaron walked up to the bench with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, casually.

"Then why are you here?" Eddie asked, getting defensive.

He didn't like Aaron. He didn't like the way he looked at you like you were a piece of meat, and the way she looked at him, like he was garbage. He didn't like his fake laugh and mean smile.

"To talk about Y/N." Aaron sat across from Eddie, his green eyes colder than usual as they scanned Eddie. "I wanted to ask you not to sell drugs to her, you know I care about her and I don't want her... to end up in a bad circle."

"She, um- I never sold her anything."

"Oh, you didn't? Well, she told me she'll soon ask you to sell her some of...your stuff." He uttered the last word with disgust.

"I'm not sure she uses that kind of stuff." Eddie couldn't figure out where Aaron was trying to get at. "I'm not sure she smoke at all."

"Of course she does! She got close to you because she wanted to buy from you, and she thought that if you became friends a little, maybe you would give her a discount." He said, as if it were a matter of course that you would never approach someone like Eddie except for having something in return.

Eddie felt a weird sensation in the pit of his stomach. It couldn't be true.

You didn't start talking to him just because you wanted to buy drugs from him.

You weren't the only person who sat next to him in class because you wanted to buy drugs from him.

You hadn't spent all night watching movies with him while there was a party at your own house because you wanted to buy drugs from him.

You weren't the only person at school other than the Hellfire kids and the guys in his band who didn't treat him like a complete waste of space, showing him your kindness and affection every time you were with him, just because you wanted to buy drugs from him.

Right?

When Eddie had realized he was in love with you, months and months before, he thought he had no chance with you, that you didn't even know his name.

He thought the amazing girl Dustin always talked about would never even stop in the hallway to talk to him for fear that someone at school would see her with the "freak".

Over time though, after he started getting to know you and consequently falling for you even more: you had a good heart.

Eddie thought he'd always remember the day you brought to his trailer some notes he said he needed for his math test.

He was in the shower when you'd arrived, and you'd chatted with Wayne like you were friends for about twenty minutes before Eddie had came out of the bathroom with his hair still damp and with no t-shirt on.

He'd found you sitting on the couch next to his uncle, you were both laughing and Eddie had just leant against the door jamb with his shoulder, enjoying the scene with a smile on his lips, thinking "that's my fucking family".

You simply were something else.

And lately he almost thought that maybe he could become more than a friend to you, but perhaps he was wrong.

Aaron left throwing one last look at Eddie, halfway between a recommendation and a threat.

He closed the lunchbox filled with drugs, moving the fingers of one hand to the other, playing nervously with his rings, thinking that the only thing that could stop it at that moment was your hand in his.

Eddie stayed on that bench, alone, for an indefinite time while his mind continued to travel without him being able to stop it.

Aaron must have lied.

Right?

Part 6

Thanks to everyone who is still reading this story <3

Who's ready for a bit of Wayne in the next part?

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat

Love you from afar tags:

@capitanostella @enam3l @saramelaniemoon @ang3lb44by @einkitty @themorriganisamonster @esme-viridian @daisyridleyyyy @whenshelanded @eggo-segual @comfortcharactercraze @callmeyn @expiredcum21 @unholyyylita @squidscottjeans @twilight-love-nochu-main @idkatee @bakugouswh0r3 @amira0303 @greatpizzascissorstaco @ebonybloom @emxxblog @lunaryasha @cherryobx @jasminelafleur @magicalchocolatecheesecake @tracymbcm @harrypotter-imaginees @eli-flower @mrsjellymunson @tttttttttttts-things @miabiar @wayfaring----stranger @princess-eddie @omgshesinsane @littlestarfighter03 @zoeymunson @tanyaherondale @bl4ckt00thgr1n @thebook-hobbit @eris-rose-86 @ly17 @jenuhlyn @ximi1315 @avocadotoastwithegg @lomljigg @1paire2vans @praline357 @alana4610 @urdad-hot @themorriganisamonster @let-the-music-take-c0ntrol @kozuuji @ruinedbythehobbit

[atinylittlepain]

Not What You Expected - A Joel Miller Story

dad!Joel x f!reader

Joel Miller masterlist

They're still acclimating to life with baby Miller, a far cry from how they first met.

warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, angst-ish, mostly fluff tho

a/n | another installation in the Unexpected Expectings universe after much request! This can certainly be read as a standalone, but it's much more fun alongside the other pieces in this world :)

..........................

“She just spit up on me again, didn’t she?”

“Just a little. Here, I’ll get it.” Ellie huffs while she steps behind the girl to wipe off her shoulder where Libby just dribbled her breakfast. Perhaps not surprisingly, Ellie has been as hands on as she can be with her little sister, helping out at bath times, feeding her, reading to her. But she draws the line at changing diapers. 

She sighs, stepping out from behind Ellie and leaning against the crib to take in the sight of her gently bouncing Libby in her arms, making ridiculous faces at her wide-eyed little sister and murmuring nonsense.

“You’re pretty cute, huh, Libs? That must come from your mom’s side because it sure as shit doesn’t come from Joel.” She can’t help but laugh at Ellie’s little jab, but, having just come into the doorway to the nursery, Joel seems to feel a bit differently, clearing his throat as he frowns at the girl.

“Kid, I’d rather that one’s first word isn’t some kind of swear, huh? Watch yourself.” It’s obviously lighthearted as Joel’s lips crook into half a grin and he shuffles over to Ellie to gently take Libby from her arms. Even after ten months, she’s still not over the sight of Joel Miller with a baby, with their baby, perched on his hip, his broad palm cupping her back. Ellie doesn’t seem over it either, snorting as she watches Joel rock side to side.

“Easy, killer. Gonna knock someone out with the blinding ray of sunshine you’ve turned into.” Joel scowls over the top of Libby’s head at Ellie who has dissolved into laughter, glancing over at his woman to see that she is also giggling. Not wanting to be left out, Libby lets out a shriek, bouncing her tiny fist against Joel’s cheek. He’s quick to smack kisses to her little fingers, grumbling as he does it.

“You three are gonna kill me, goddamn.” 

“With the way you two talk, Libby’s gonna be swearing like a sailor before she can even walk.” Both Joel and Ellie grin at her exasperated look, Ellie sidling up next to her to swing her arm over her shoulder.

“You’re no better. Heard you let out a few choice words in the kitchen the other day when you dropped her bottle.” She huffs at Ellie’s smug look, nudging into her side.

“Alright, alright, kid. Don’t you have a shift starting soon?” Ellie glances at her watch, sighing.

“Ah, fuck.”

“Ellie.” Both she and Joel gripe at her words. Ellie just shrugs, already hustling out of the nursery to get to the stables. With the sound of the front door closing, they look at each other, shaking their heads. Some things never change.

Joel sighs, moving over to the rocking chair and sitting down with a groan as he shifts Libby to cradle her in his arms. She slips behind the chair to lean with her palms on his shoulders, smiling down at their girl who’s quickly dozing in her dad’s hold. She lays a kiss to his temple, and Joel cranes his neck to look at her questioningly.

“What was that for?” She shrugs, grinning crookedly at him.

“Nothing, my ray of sunshine.” She tries to quiet her laughs, not wanting to startle Libby awake, while Joel scowls at her teasing.

“Hey, ain’t the only one softening up, darlin.” She raises a brow at him and he smirks.

“Still remember when I met you. Practically feral, woman. Now look at you. Being all sweet. Wearing my clothes.” She scoffs as she thumbs the collar of the flannel, his flannel, that she’s wearing.

“Oh this? I just wear this whenever I think Libby’s gonna spit up. Better yours than mine, Miller.” He huffs at that as she snickers. She squeezes his shoulder as she continues.

“I may have softened a little. But if I’m remembering that day we met correctly, I did nearly kill you, so you better watch it, sunshine.” Joel chuckles lightly, still gently rocking their girl who is completely out now.

“Mm, I remember alright. Was pissed as hell at the time. But I can say this now – was the hottest thing I ever saw.” They both laugh, their minds now swirling with the memory.

With ten years come and gone, they can both still remember the day they met, clear as anything. Oh, how things have changed.

…

Boston QZ, 2016

He’s exhausted. Another day on burn detail, another day hustling pills to soldiers. The only bright spot, if you could call it that, is the deal he’s working on with Bill and Frank. He and Tess had managed to get their hands on a generator in one of the old apartment buildings, taking it apart to transport to Bill and Frank who had been having some trouble with their own. In return, Joel and Tess had been promised new guns, and ammo, something hard to come by unless you were with FEDRA or those damn fireflies. They’re planning to go in two days. Until then, he’s been keeping the parts under the floorboards in their apartment, so when he gets back to their place that night, Tess still out on some work detail, and lifts the boards to find the parts gone, Joel’s mind reels. 

Racking his brain for any possible reason the parts could be moved, he lets out a quiet curse in frustration. He comes up with nothing and the word thief starts to blare through his mind like an alarm. His fingers rest on the hilt of the knife he keeps tucked in his belt as his eyes scan over the apartment. He tries not to let out a chuckle when he sees it. The closet by the door. He and Tess always left it open, didn’t keep anything in it. It’s closed firmly now. Got him. 

He moves gingerly over to the closet, drawing out his knife as his hand settles on the doorknob. Before he can swing it open, however, someone is bursting out, knocking him to the ground, his knife skittering across the floor. He can’t get a good look at him as they tumble on the ground, hands at each other’s necks as they roll for dominance. He manages to pin the other man to the ground, but is shocked into stillness by what he sees. He is a she. She sneers at him, a toothy grin.

“Not what you expected, huh, Miller?” Before he can pick his jaw up off the floor, she’s kneeing him hard in the groin, effectively toppling him over as she pins him with her hands around his neck. He grabs at her hands, but she’s strong, stronger than she looks, pressing hard into the sides of his throat and making him gasp for air. He has seen her before, on a few work details, but he had no idea she had this kind of fight in her. It’s all he can do to choke out his question.

“You with Robert?” She laughs hard at that, fingers flexing in the sides of his throat.

“Hardly. His little band of idiots wouldn’t have the brain cells for this.” It’s getting harder for Joel to breath, black spots starting to fuzz his vision. She leans a little closer, unwavering gaze holding him still.

“You got two options here. Number one, you let me in on whatever little business you got going with Tess and I don’t kill you right now. Number two, I kill you and take your parts and your radio and figure it out myself.” He can’t help the wheezing laugh he coughs out. This woman has some serious balls. She doesn’t seem to like that though, her grip around his neck tightening until he really can’t breathe anymore, his legs flailing uselessly on the floor.

“That mean you’d prefer option two?” He shakes his head as best he can in her grip, trying to choke out the word no, and she seems to understand, releasing his neck but keeping him pinned with a forearm across his chest. Joel takes several heaving breaths, trying to clear the haze that had crept into his mind. The first real thought he has as oxygen returns to his brain is that she has pretty eyes. Angry, but pretty.

“I’m not letting you up until I hear you say it.” He takes a few more steadying breaths before he responds.

“I’ll let you in on our business. But you try any shit like this again, I’ll be quicker next time and you won’t get so lucky.” She huffs a laugh at that, finally letting up and sitting back on her haunches as Joel sits up. He rubs tenderly at his neck, wincing at the already forming bruises and muttering to himself.

“You got a grip on you, woman, goddamn. Some first impression.” He’s surprised when she holds out her hand to him. He’s more surprised that he actually takes it, shaking her hand lightly as she smirks at him, telling him her name. 

“Figured I’d have to do things a little unorthodox to work with you two. And hey, looks like it worked.” All he can do is shake his head at this woman who has so suddenly become his business partner.

…

Jackson, 2026

“I was going easy on you. Caught me off guard. And you were pretty, even then. Didn’t wanna mess up your face.” She scoffs, nudging him in his side as they stand in front of the crib, watching their sleeping girl.

“Oh yeah? Tell that to the bruises you had on your neck for the next, what was it? Three weeks? Totally going easy on me, uh-huh, so easy you let me nearly crush your windpipe.” Joel huffs around a grin.

“Suppose that’s another thing our girl gets from you. You ladies sure know how to make an entrance.” She stifles her laugh behind her hand as they both dip out of the nursery. Before she can get too far down the hall, Joel slips a lazy palm around her one hip, turning her back toward him and smearing a brazen kiss across her lips, pulling away with a wet smack that makes her eyes widen. He just grins.

“What the hell was that for?” Joel keeps his one hand cupping her hip, the other coming up to stroke along the arc of her jaw as he sighs.

“All this talk of you crushing my windpipe has got me worked up, darlin. Take pity on a poor man, huh?” She lets out a sputtering laugh at his words, but he’s quick to silence her with another kiss, licking into her mouth like a heathen. She pulls back with a gasp, lightly smacking his chest as he gives her a smug smile.

“Watch it, Miller. Or I’ll have to finish what I started ten years ago.” He shakes his head.

“Has it really been ten years? Christ– that’s hard to believe.” She rakes her fingers through his hair as she hums at his words.

“I know. How the hell did we end up here, huh?” He sighs, glancing back into the nursery.

“No clue, darlin. I think you’re the one bit of luck I got in this fucked-up world.” Her fingers still, hands sliding down to wrap behind his neck. She can feel tears welling up hot and fast in her eyes, and to keep them at bay she steals another kiss from him, quick and chaste that leaves them both smiling.

“I’m glad I didn’t kill you, Joel.” He squeezes her hip, still smiling like a fool.

“I love you, darlin. Thank you.” 

“What? For not killing you?” 

“No. I mean– yes, that too. But, thank you for sticking with me. Fuck– for giving me all this. Just, thank you.” His thumb brushes away a rogue tear that has dripped down her cheek and she sighs under his touch.

“Well, now you’re just trying to make me cry, goddamn it.”

“Hmm, look who’s soft now, darlin.” She smacks his chest as he laughs at her exasperated expression, tugging her into a tight hug. She murmurs lowly into his shirt.

“I love you too, Joel. Love you so much.” They stay like that for a while, his arms wrapped firmly around her, her cheek pressed right over his heart. They’re finally broken out of their quiet moment by the sound of fussy coos coming from the nursery. Joel sighs, pulling away and squeezing her shoulders.

“I’ve got it, mama.”

“You sure? She probably needs a diaper change.” 

“I’m sure I can handle that. You should get some rest, were up half the night after all.” She slackens under his touch, nodding lightly as he’s already moving back into the nursery. 

She goes to head downstairs, but quickly stops when she hears him start to talk in a soft murmur to Libby. It’s a voice Joel won’t use if he knows anyone else is around, she had only caught him talking in it a few times to their girl, gentle and low. Ellie would have a field day if she heard him.

“Hey, baby girl. Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” She slides along the wall, stopping just outside the doorway to the nursery to listen in as Joel continues talking to Libby. She can hear Libby’s sweet babblings as Joel keeps murmuring to her.

“My girl’s a talker, aren’t you? Get that from your mama. Woman’s got a mouth on her, let me tell you. One of the things I like best about her. But don’t tell her I said that.” She presses her hand to her mouth, keeping in her giggle at his ramblings.

“I know your sister’s been trying to get you to say her name, but I’d really like it if your first word is mine. Also may have a little bet going with her, but I’ll split the winnings with you if you just say my name first.” She makes a mental note to smack both him and Ellie later for their “little bet,” but continues listening as Libby’s babbling picks up. Joel lets out a laugh.

“That’s it, baby girl. Just string ‘em together. Da-da. I know you can do it. Whip-smart just like your mama, huh?” Libby’s babbling continues, still just nonsense sounds and syllables. Joel sighs.

“Gonna do it in your own time, huh? Think you get that from me. That’s alright, baby girl. Ready whenever you are.” She figures he’s picking her up again from the hesitant coos Libby lets out, Joel quick to shush her.

“I got you, my girl. It’s ok. I got you.” She rests her temple against the wall outside the doorway, closing her eyes and continuing to listen to his gentle words to their girl.

“Love you so much, baby girl. Your mama loves you just as much, and your sister, even if she is already corrupting you. You’ve got all of us on your team, my girl. We’ve got you.” 

She smiles to herself. It’s been a long ten years, most of it bad, some of it good. But they really have made a little team for themselves, a little family. It’s certainly not what she expected when she went into business with Joel Miller, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[bellewintersroe]

Ron Speirs x ArmyNurse! OC

Margaret ‘Maggie’ Emerson, an army nurse attached to the 506th parachute infantry regiment, finds herself growing closer to her company’s captain, Ronald Speirs. With war drawing to an end, a side to the mystery that is Captain Speirs is revealed. Both Maggie and Ron have a difficult time resisting their attraction to one another.

This is the third part to this mini-series, here’s the link to part 2 where you can find the first piece also linked. This chapter is gonna be a cliche nurse has to do a physical exam of the soldier she has the hots for lmao- no warnings, just some swearing and mild sexual tension.

“More, switch lines with me.” Speirs head was tilted, looking towards the door ahead of him.

“Sorry, sir?” More frowned. Speirs held out a pack of cigarettes and More gladly accepted, swapping places with him in the line with no further questions asked. The Captain smirked to himself proudly as the door opened, revealing Sergeant Alley walking out with Maggie swiftly behind.

“Thanks, Mag’s.” Alley teased causing some of the men to jeer and tease. Maggie rolled her eyes, giving Alley a playful kick to the back of his leg before calling out a polite, “next.”

Ron stepped forwards and her lips immediately tugged up in a smile she couldn’t quite bite back. “Captain Speirs, sir, how are you?” The door closed behind them both. From the outside, Luz watched on, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“What the fuck?” He muttered to himself, stunned at the exchange. “Hey, Babe, you see that? Speirs swapping lines with More to get into Maggie’s?” George nudged at the man beside him.

“Oh yeah? Didnt think we’d see the day Captain Speirs was chasin’ a broad…” Babe snickered.

On the inside, Maggie double checked the door was shut before heading towards the check board to write down Speirs’ name and tick him off the checklist. She’s been doing physical exams all morning, blood tests, checking their skin, weight, height. Maggie thought she was growing bored until Captain Speirs walked in.

“Would you take your shirt off for me, real quick?” She muttered, without thinking too much. Ron sat in the chair, removing his tie and moving his hands to unbutton the shirt. “I gotta just get a few measurements from you before I do the blood test and X-ray, that alright?” Maggie turned around, digging her pen a little too hard into the paper when she saw him unbuttoning his shirt.

“Yeah.” He casually nodded, as she pursed her lips, averting her eyes, before remembering she had to take his blood pressure. Spinning around again she retreated the device, stethoscope also around her neck. Her face was flustered and she dared to look up to him when his shirt was completely discarded. Maggie had been around shirtless men all day, it didn’t discompose her until now.

Ron’s gazed followed her tensely, swallowing and tensing his jaw when she took a seat in front of him. Her hair was longer than Ron realised, blonder than the other nurses, curls that weren’t pinned back hanging loosely. He didn’t even care that she was probably breaking every uniform rule, he was too enthralled by her.

“I’ll take your blood pressure first, sir.” He held out an arm as she shuffled a little closer, wrapping the material around his bicep. His muscles were protruding, as were his veins. If Maggie felt like melting just from the sight of his arm then she was curious as to how she reacted from seeing the rest of his seemingly, very toned, body.

“Get the boring stuff out of the way.” She giggled, glancing up to him. “Taking bloods fun?!” Her head snapped up again, pausing her actions. “It is when they faint.” Shrugging, she continued wrapping the strap around his arm before pumping to tighten the machine and read his blood pressure.

“Who fainted?” He questioned, a slight smirk covering his face. “You wanna know?!” Her smile turned into a devious grin as his teeth dug into his bottom lip, nodding. “Well it’s confidential.” She borderline teased, Speirs felt his stomach tighten as he unconsciously leant a bit closer. Maggie noticed and stole another glance over his face. He was even more handsome close up…

“Secrets safe with me.” He played along, eyelids heavy as they met hers. For a second her lips were parted and straight, captivated in the way he was looking at her, the way he spoke- and that was totally unprofessional. Maggie sat up straighter before her lips stretched into a smile again, shaking off the urge to lean closer into him. Ron wondered if all her exams were like this, or if it was just for him.

“I’ll let you guess, sir.” Ron cleared his throat, pursing his lips and looking around to distract himself elsewhere. Maggie scribbled down his blood pressure, “blood pressures good.” She then commented as he quickly snapped back to her, remembering what she’d said before.

“Liebgott. Acts tough but screams at the sight of needles.” He quickly commented, resulting in her laughing a little harder now. “No not Liebgott, stand up for me, Ron.” The name slipped as he smiled to himself. Maggie pulled the stethoscope into her ears and stepped around him so she was directly ahead of him. God, he was muscular. Trim from the physical demand of war, but he was undeniably attractive. Maggie’s tongue pushed to the inside of her cheek, tilting her chin up to look up to him before she pressed the devise up to the left of his chest.

“Sorry it’s cold.” She whispered as Ron felt his breath hitch, heart rate immediately speeding. “Talbert then.”

“Didnt faint, but he nearly threw up.” Maggie muttered, listening to his heart. Ron chuckled as they shared a smile. “Your hearts going so fast.” It fell out of her mouth as he took a deep breath. “I wonder why?” His eyes gazed over her, causing her own pulse to accelerate. The tension was too much, they were so both openly showing their attraction to one another, Maggie thought she might faint if she swooned any harder.

“Take a deep breath for me, sir.” She then instructed, listening carefully. Everything sounded perfect as she listened once on his chest and again on his back- that was also incredibly muscular.

She stood on a literal stool chair in order to reach and measure his height perfectly, Ron’s head tilted up in amusement before she nudged his jaw so he was looking straight. “I’ve been doing this all day.” She reminded, scribbling some more notes down, taking his weight and then doing an x-Ray, hands adjusting his arms in the right position.

“What time do you get off later?” Ron questioned, whilst he was stood in the machine. “You have to ask me that now when I need you to be still?” She gazed up to him. “Would you rather me ask when I’m taking your blood?”

“Preferably not, no.” She smiled to herself, heading over and pushing his arms a little further back so she could get a better view of everything to send to the surgeons to check everything was okay.

“Keep your back straight, alright?” Her warm hands touched slightly the mid of his back nudging him a little more upright. “Alright.” Ron spared her another glance.

“Hold still a second.” A moment later the X-ray was taken. “4.” She then answered, Ron looked at her in a little confusion.

“You can take a seat again- and 4. You asked me what time I get off at?” Again, she felt a little shy, fumbling for the tourniquet and slowly dragging over the tray with everything laid out on. Ron smiled, feeling the words ready to spill off his lips. He knew he shouldn’t, but he so desperately wanted to completely break professionalism and ask her out. He saw how happy all those other men looked to be in her line, he could bet they’d try anything on with her now the war in Europe was over.

“Oh yeah.” Ron muttered to himself as she tightened it over his bicep. “Clench your fist for me.” She muttered, wondering what the question was for. His veins were already popping, she slapped on his skin slightly before returning to get a clear pair of gloves.

It was silent for a minute or so. Not awkward, just a little tense, the unspoken words making the two of them nervous. “Sharp scratch, you okay with needles?” She muttered. Ron gulped, tense at her presence, not the needle. “Okay.” Her whispered tone made him shiver as he watched her prick the inside of his vein, never being one to bother about injections or needles. Ron inhaled, looking up and her head snapped up, making sure he was okay.

“You okay?”

“Go out with me later.” The words on his lips were finally spoken, he blinked back to her, seeing her breath catch in her throat before she turned back to the vial and needle with a slight amusement.

“You’re asking me whilst I’m taking your blood?” She watched it fill up, looking like a freak as she smiled to herself uncontrollably. “Yeah.” His voice cracked, raspy from overuse.

“Okay.” She nodded, not really having to think twice about it. Ron had to tense his jaw to avoid smiling too much. “Great, I’ll pick you up at 8?”

“Where are we going?” She removed the needle gently, dealing with that before disposing of everything she didn’t need and scribbling down everything she needed to, trying her hardest to focus on everything but the fact Captain Speirs had just asked her out.

“There’s a bar in town- don’t ask me to pronounce it.” Now she looked back to him, a smile reaching her eyes and nodding. “8 is good, I’ll see you then.”

“Good.” He gently spoke, looking back to her with a smile. Maggie hadn’t seen Speirs smile this much before. “You can put your shirt back on now, Ron.”

“Oh, right.” God, Ron had Maggie smiling like a lovesick teenager, even when he’d left and the next person, Malarkey had come in, Maggie was grinning like a goddamn child.

“Captain Speirs got you smilin’ like that?!”

[fumifooms]

Marchil crumbs part 7

Part 1 - Part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

They made bonus illustrations for the Blu-ray. Idk what to make of this

Kui don’t do this to me…….. The placement <3

1) Trigger please elaborate. Speak on that. Huh. In the other Bluray illustrations with duos the characters aren’t blushing like this…?? This sure is a choice. Very normal. No tension in the air.

2) Those were assorted fullbodies she did for advertisements for a Dunmeshi cafe event in Shibuya, that she then put in the Complete Adventurer’s Bible… They line up so well that it looks like they’re interacting together it’s so cute.

Chilchuck having torrid tension with Marcille’s crepe Do you think Chilchuck was in Marcille’s shot behind/besides her food… Is he looking at her like that because he’s being sassy about having to wait on her, or is he using his watch as an excuse to steal glances at her… Did Marcille call out to him to be like "hey get in the shot!!" and get pics of their coffeeshop date out in town…

Cooking soap together for the fate of Senshi’s beard

I could have SWORN I’ve talked about this page below in the crumbs post before but apparently not. Ok so first of all this is peak them strategizing together. They seek each other out to plan out their next move- And this is soon after she did ancient magic! It’s after Chilchuck’s most important character moment, where he admits that he cares about the party and things aren’t purely professional, so that helps him move on from keeping her at arm’s length due to the very illegal scary thing she did I think, but besides that! This still shows a very strong bond of trust and respect between the two, that he values her input even still. Also supported in this chapter by how he felt the need to keep tabs on Laios and Senshi to not get them all killed but Marcille letting it slip about what she did or anything didn’t even enter his mind as I went over in part 2.

Okok but more in depth… I’m spoiling a future analysis of mine with this too but remember this panel? And who might be the personalization itself of projecting gentlemanly, heroic good will while having hidden/manipulative intentions? I’ve never known what to make of Kabru smiling at her and more importantly her blushing at him here… Until I realized that he really fits her ideal type from what we can extrapolate: He looks rather feminine and is seemingly very gallant/gentlemanly, very charismatic, and was raised by elves so has a grasp on etiquette. And yet, she only gives his smile a passing glance before going back to strategizing with Chilchuck— Because unlike what her reputation as someone frivolous who idealizes and romanticizes anything like in her storybooks, she can put rationality above aesthetics. Because she values Chilchuck and his input much more than she ever would a pretty face alone, the aesthetic of a prince charming. Because she knows he was right, at least partly, and knows where her actual allies lie. She doesn’t waver, and she chooses Chilchuck. A part of her arc is to judge by acts more than looks, and this is very much a part of it I think, Chilchuck cares and wants to help much more than someone who might look kinder or more welcoming.

Ehem sorry for going off Now that I reread the full scene this might be one of my fave marchil moments as weird as that might be… Chilchuck seeing her hesitance and explaining to her what’s going on without being prompted, sticking together out of everyone on the battlefield, them so easily slipping into strategizing with each other without the rest of the group. I never noticed the whole comedy of corpses falling around them and them keeping talking together lol.

Ok so merch wise they’re making hair clips! And there are 4 sets of two, it’s always Marcille with a different hairstyle and a different party member (for one of the four sets the other is a walking mushroom). Here’s the Marcille & Chil one! You can now have them in your hair yippee

I never put this one in a crumbs part but it’s funny so might as well, for as much as they care for each other and Marcille’s been shown to be very worried for & careful with Chilchuck the dainty rogue™️ the second he becomes a tallman without his cute face suddenly it’s FREE GAME. Their bestieship is so strong for them to be able to brush this incident right off and strategize like they’re close knit so soon after this lol.

Love a duo that will just trip onto their face in the same page. Cringefail.

Matching frog skin fits yayyyy!! <3 (Also stop making him look at her in ads I’ll die)

STOP ITTTTT

I had always assumed in the ‘feeding liver to Marcille’ part that Laios was always the one feeding her because the hands and speech bubbles aren’t clear in the manga scene, but the anime makes it clear that everyone does it after the other. So here’s Chil’s turn. Asking after if she liked it and encouraging to eat more is cute too. There’s also obviously how panicked he is to see her in danger earlier in the ep, but idk if I already showed that manga panel in an earlier comp

And woohoo the anime made this interaction between them even more sus!! Why. Why are you looking at each other like that. Stop people could misunderstand

Protecting her from the monster food

Thank you for the food episode 10. Made me notice a healing/caing moment I’d never paid attention to before!

"Huh your hands seem okay" ARE YOU SURE… They’re so cute when they team up together oml, hassling Senshi instead of each other lmaoo. Love how they made her look at him all happy

I wish I could put the screenshots for the whole sequence here but. How to hook and reel in your Chilchuck.

In chapter 97 cover they took the seats facing each other this time again <3 Like in the golden kingdom. It’s a recurring thing. Seemingly he’s looking at Falin so involved in the same conversation at her? :> Oh it’d be cute if he was the one who made her laugh sob, he looks like he just cracked a wise joke.

Today’s healing touch

Dude you are going to die let her go

They changed the gesture Marcille did to chide Chil here, instead of having her hand on his shoulder and tapping his head she gives him an elbow nudge. Idm the change this is so cute too. Also Chil extending her his sympathies

Not a crumb tbh but the way this was his POV during the Marcille vs Thistle fight is hilarious to me. No wonder he thought she was bonkers

Not the way these quote keychains are set up… Every protagonist has their own EXCEPT Chil’s who includes Marcille, and it’s one of my fav marchil moments I looove being validated that this scene is important

And to finish it up, the manga scene of this exchange in the anime that really stole my heart. They’re so fond of each other aw. Teasing on the job is free, her expression here is so cute, rare reversal of their roles in the dynamic

More crumbs soon! Not many in here yet (edit: at the time of first posting) but I was dying to post it with the modern cutouts art (I have so much fanart planned based on it hehe) but then the bluray illustration came out and fucking one hit KOd me. I am not that strong. I am only human.

They didn’t blush here in the manga guysss

[libraryofneith]

Old Dog, New Tricks - Chapter 3 (Sandor Clegane x Female Reader)

@ladysandorclegane1968 @broadsdrinkwhisky

Series Masterlist

Summary: As Sandor settles in, he wonders what is next for him, what to do with his life.

Tags/Warnings: none really, whole fic is 18+ but this is a very chill chapter. Enjoy it while it lasts, cos it won't, OC has mutism.

Thanks to everyone who's liked, reblogged or left a note. The response to this has been amazing.

When we found her, she was wandering the countryside, filthy and covered in blood. And her eyes – there was a look in her eyes of someone who’d seen something truly terrible.

Weeks past and with them, Sandor found himself healing. With the help of some other friends of Septon Ray’s, he found himself beginning to walk a bit more with each passing day. First across his room, then he ventured outside. That was when he learned where he was. He was with a small settlement of people who appeared to have set up camp in the middle of nowhere and had started building a sept.

They were people from all over: the North, Riverlands, Westerlands, and people from all walks of life and backgrounds. All these people brought together by religion to start their own way of life, a bit like the Brotherhood Without Banners only not so stuck up their arses and with a lot less fire and a lot more sanity.

Once he was able to walk, stretch and lift weights without fainting like a maiden at the sight of blood, Ray set him to work helping with the building. He said they could use a man with the Hound’s infamous strength on their mission. Sandor had given up his identity when Ray told him he already knew who he was.

“Your reputation proceeds you; huge man, and even through all that mess I could see those infamous scars.” Sandor growled, irritated.

He then asked if he’d seen a scruffy looking girl of about 13, might’ve looked like a peasant boy. The septon shook his head and said they’d found him alone. That didn’t surprise him. If he remembered right, the girl had left him on a mountainside to die then left, looking to be heading towards Saltpans.

“Why the fuck did you bother asking my name then?” The man smiled and shrugged.

“Formality, I guess.”

When Sandor wasn’t chopping wood or carrying heavy planks, he spent most of his time alone. The people here weren’t unkind, some of them could even look him in the eye, but they were all happy and decent folk who seemed to be completely un-phased by the horrors in the world around them. He had no place among such folk. Well, except for Septon Ray, he always took time in the day to visit him.

Truth be told, he was growing quite fond of the holy man. He wasn’t like the other septons he’d met, he wasn’t all solemnity and false piety, acting all holier-than-thou. He was happy and he was human, always greeting people with a smile and a joke. He even knew jokes bawdy enough to make Sandor snigger. The man was also completely unpretentious, a trait Sandor rarely found in anyone.

Sandor had snorted and said “You’re in the wrong line of work.” At least he was honest, which was more than could be said for most holy men.

Other septons liked to pretend that they knew the answer to all of the world’s mysteries and that if you just kept quiet and prayed then everything would turn out right. When Sandor challenged him with another man’s beliefs about the Lord of Light, he simply said

“Well maybe he was right, I don’t know much about the gods.”

But then there was the girl, Kyra. He didn’t know what to make of her. A young girl who he’d seen every day while he was bed-ridden, and most days once he was up. When she wasn’t nursing him, he noticed her about the camp cooking, planting vegetables or doing whatever chores needed to be done. She was small for her age and moved so quietly he mostly wouldn’t realise she was there until she was upon him.

He’d approached her one day, to thank her for her skills in nursing him. He'd been unsure of what to say, it'd been a long time since he'd thanked anyone for anything and he wasn't sure what she would say, but she said nothing. She just smiled, nodded, then walked away. He thought that odd but when he thought about it, he realised he’d ever heard Kyra speak. She wasn’t deaf or foreign; he saw her reacting to what people said, but she never spoke back.

“Good girl that.” Septon Ray said, approaching him where he stood. “Should’ve seen her when you were still out of it, most of the men wanted to slit your throat as an act of mercy but the look she gave them would’ve made the bloody Mountain shit his pants” Sandor smiled at that thought.

“Aye she’s a good lass. Why doesn’t she speak?” The septon’s face seemed to sadden at that.

“Fear, I think. When we found her, she was wandering the countryside, filthy and covered in blood. And her eyes – there was a look in her eyes of someone who’d seen something truly terrible. She screamed bloody murder when we tried to bring her back to the village but even when we eventually managed to calm her, she never spoke a word, and hasn’t in all the time I’ve known her.”

“Then how do you know her name, or get her to do anything?”

“She writes things down, or motions them, or sometimes just a look is enough.” Sandor could understand that – the girl had the most expressive eyes he’d ever seen. They’d been the first things he’d noticed about her when he woke up.

The bell rang out, meaning a break for a meal.

“Come, sit with me for dinner” Septon Ray said.

“Nah that’s alright; I don’t want to scare your men.” The man just chuckled.

“If they’re scared of you that’s their problem, I’d have my friend join me for a meal.” That took Sandor aback. Ray was kind to him, but he was kind to everyone. He didn’t think that the man thought of him as a particular friend. He didn’t know if he really wanted a friend.

That got him going.

“If you come now there might be some ale waiting.”

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 3 : Lost home

Mac goes to FFM with feral Wukong. Some old feelings surges forward and Wukong is acting like a cub.

I think I'll be updating this two chapters everyday on Tumblr.

The grass was greener than what he remembered, soft strands dancing at the wind's whims, drenched by kind rays of light. He was standing in the sand, frozen still by overflowing emotions. Everything came back to him the second he landed in this place. Waves of memories crashing into him, drowning his tired mind. Standing on the shore was already painful, he didn't know if he could step on the grass. The line separating white and green was more daunting than anything he saw, battling the heaven felt like nothing in the face of this feeling.

There was an ocean of tears hiding in his chest, all devoted to his lost home. Tears never cried, for fear of being weak, for fear of longing something that would never be his again. Those tears suffocated him, rumbling inside his bones, a storm of sorrow drowning him, until his heart felt nothing but sadness and longing.

Memories of a kinder time flashed behind his eyes. A time when he could run on soft soil until his lungs burnt, climb every tree simply because he wanted to, feel the wind dancing through his fur, pushing him to further heights. A youth away from any pain, where the only thing he had to plan for was dinner.

A simple existence, a life in peace.

A time when he was nothing more but a monkey with a best friend.

Macaque sighed, chasing away his thoughts. This wasn't the time for nostalgia, this would never be his home again, not when it was the land of his murderer. The warrior sat on the white sand, heart beating furiously against his skin, almost like it wanted to tear him apart and ran towards the grass. The kid left him hours ago, something about letting Sun Wukong wander in peace. He promised to come back tomorrow, fleeting words Macaque brushed aside, not wanting to believe anything for now.

The sage was at his side, gazing at the sand curiously, pawing the grains with childish wonder. Letting it glide around his claws and mess his already wrecked fur. The King looked at him with round eyes, tail thumping excitedly against the soft soil. Macaque rolled his eyes, appalled by such a childish gaze, and threw a handful of sand at the sage. Sun Wukong sneezed and furiously pawed his nose, perhaps trying to get the sand out of his face.

“Ha, that's funny.” Barked the ebony monkey, the sage huffed and turned around, more interested in common white sand than petty plays. Macaque liked it this way, he felt better when the King wasn't looking at him, when his burning gaze was turning elsewhere.

Sun Wukong dived in the sand, rolling around like an unruly cub, soiling his russet fur with white grains. He looked like he enjoyed his sand bath, and Macaque did nothing to stop it, even if he knew that by doing this the sage would get sand in his wounds, a painful situation to live through. But sometimes people had to learn what to do, and what not to do the hard way, didn't they ?

The sage ran in the sand, diving in dunes, and digging useless holes simply because he could. It was strange to see him be so free, and so childish, unbothered by titles and responsibilities. Macaque felt a sprout of anger flourish in his chest, how could the King be so carefree after what he did ? How could he forget it all and live in peace, as if he didn't doom him to a painful end ?

Macaque shook his head, chasing the anger away. He knew this ugly, overbearing rage was nothing but instinct, a way to protect himself when sorrow seized him. He blamed it all on Wukong because it was easier to live this way, to see himself in the mirror when light came. Rage was easier to process than sorrow, and Macaque never let himself be engulfed by sorrow, too proud but also too scared to crumble.

He wasn't here to fight, he wasn't here for blood, he was here to survive, and he shouldn't forget it.

Sun Wukong trotted towards the grass, he pawed at it a little, cautious, before rolling around in soft, jade-like strands. Macaque gulped, trying to smother the bitterness rising before it could overflow. It looked so easy to step on the other side, but it wasn't, not for him. Sun Wukong ran, giggling as he explored the other side, his silhouette fading away in the wildness.

“He doesn't really need me, seems better already.” Snorted Macaque.

Sun Wukong came back seconds after, cooing like a madmonkey. Frail, scared chirps, chants of “where”, “where”, “alone”, “lost”. He stumbled on the sand and ran towards the warrior at full speed, curling at his side once he reached him, golden tail firmly tied in black-furred hips.

“You know I'm not your mom, right ?” Grumbled the warrior, the sage softly cooed at him, a quiet rumble made to be reassuring, like the warrior was the lost cub in this particular scenario. Disgusting.

Macaque huffed and laid down, facing the sky as hours passed. He felt better, his body wasn't aching anymore, but there was still an underlying weakness preventing him from being as fast, as strong, as keen as before. The warrior looked at his nemesis, the golden fluff ball was still playing with sand, and wondered if he should try to steal his magic. Maybe not now, not until he was sure the other wouldn't attack him.

They spent the rest of the day there, peacefully resting. The sage rose at dusk. and dived in the water, perhaps he got curious about the waves. He immediately shrieked and scrambled back, backing away from the ice-cold water with a pitiful whine on his lips. Macaque couldn't help but snicker, he tried to keep himself from laughing, not wanting to expose so much of himself, but he couldn't restrain the tickles rising within his throat. He erupted in laughter. He calmed down when he caught a glimpse of the sage’s thumping tail. Why was this fool happy when he just dived in the sea like a brainless monkey?

“What are you looking at ?” Snorted Mavzzie, and the sage immediately turned away, cheeks a little flushed. Sun Wukong then tried to dive in the water again, and looked at him with a wild wagging tail, as if he expected something. Macaque raised an eyebrow, not understanding what the King was doing. Sun Wukong's tail dropped, he splashed himself, clearly shivering in disgust at the feeling, and turned towards the warrior with hopeful eyes. But then again, he didn't get what he was hoping for and grumbled a little. The sage crawled on the shore with a defeated face and curled up beside the warrior, visibly annoyed. “You're weird.” Mumbled the ebony monkey.

They slept on the beach, under shimmering stars, the macaque curled on himself, and the sage pressed as close to the other as he could. They were woken up, the next morning, by the kid, which arrived quite loudly.

“Why are you both still on the beach ?” MK got off of his cloud and looked at them with a raised eyebrow. Sun Wukong immediately growled, tail lashing.

“Shut up, too early for growls.” Mumbled the macaque, he turned over and pawed at the sage to shut him up, when it didn't work, Macaque took his nemesis and smothered him in his chest to cease his annoying growls.

Sun Wukong squeaked, face slightly red, and dived happily in his chest, tail lashing excitedly. When he woke up, for the second time this morning, Macaque roughly pushed the sage away, face frowning in disgust.

“Not a word about this.” Warned the warrior as he looked over the cackling kid, ignoring the whining sage at his side. “Why are you here ?”

“I told you I would come by today. But why are you both still on the beach ?”

“We're… taking it slow. Don't wanna overwhelm him, you know.”

“Hm, yeah, it makes sense. Why is he covered in sand though ?”

“He rolled around.”

“And you didn't stop him ? You know he shouldn't move around with his wounds.”

“I didn't want to stop him, he looked like he enjoyed it.”

“But still…”

“Look, I know you're worried, kiddo.” Sighed the macaque. “But the guy is seven times immortal, he's not gonna die.” To prove his point, Macaque threw another handful of sand at the sage. “You see ? He's fine.” Sun Wukong sneezed and glared at the macaque, throwing his own handful of sand at him. “How dare you.” Hissed the warrior, the sage giggled at that.

“You two seem to get along”. Laughed MK.

“Did you not see the part where he threw sand at me ?”

“He's playing. He likes you.” Macaque ignored how those words pierced his heart, and turned away, grumbling about how the kid was blind, and how he didn't get along with his nemesis.

The kid sat a few meters away, not daring to get closer, and peeked at them from time to time, fiddling with his shirt a little, perhaps to ease his nerves. Being so close to your mentor but not being recognized sounded painful, and Macaque cursed himself for feeling so empathic. But what could he even do ? It's not like he had power over the sage fear.

“You like Sun Wukong, right ?” This was very awkward, and he belittled himself for that. Why did he even try ? It's not like he was particularly close to the kid.

“Huh, yeah… I mean it's Monkey King.” Awkwardly chuckled the kid. The way he said it, like it was obvious to like the Monkey King, was irritating, but Macaque, as petty as he was, didn't want to burn the kid with his own bitterness.

“Hm, looks kid, I'm not good at that, but if I know something about Wukong, it is that he doesn't mingle with people he doesn't like. What I'm trying to say is, hm, I'm sure he likes you too. He'll come back for you, or something, surely.” He didn't fully believe that, after all, the King didn't come back for him. But he knew, the second he saw the kid's face lightened up, that what he said was enough.

“Thanks, Macaque. I, hm, needed to hear that.”

“No problem.”

“And… also, hm, thanks for helping us with the LBD fight.”

“I just did whatever I could to survive, kid. She needed to be stopped.”

“But you could have fled, and you didn't.” Protested the kid with an unwavering gaze, how could he trust his own words so much was beyond Macaque.

“For selfish reasons.” Adeed the warrior, but the kid brushed aside his words with an easy laugh, as if he didn't quite believe Macaque's selfishness, which, as rude as it was, did bring the shadow of a smile upon the warrior's face.

Macaque didn't hate MK, quite the contrary, which was the core of his problem. He wasn't supposed to like his nemesis's mentee, he wasn't supposed to see him beyond his purpose : a tool to hurt Wukong. But no matter how much he tried to harden his heart, to pose as the cruel shadow lusting for blood, and no matter how much of a great pretender he was, Macaque couldn't kill what he truly was, and he wasn't cruel, sadly. It would have been easier if he was, it would have lessened the guilt of hurting a soul as innocent as MK, perhaps, he could have even enjoyed it, seeing beauty in shattering trust. But he wasn't cruel, and he had to live with guilt, and the burn of his own actions.

Sometimes, when the boy looked at him with unwavering eyes, Macaque could taste an apology on the tip of his lips. He thought of it, of forgiveness, but every time he indulged those thoughts, he felt acid flowing through his veins. Forgiveness was for the ones that regretted, the ones that felt the need to change who they were and to walk upon a better path. Macaque, as much as gilt filled him, didn't regret what he did. Because he did it to survive, and he would do it again if he had to. Because he did it to quell the anger (the sorrow) eating his soul. Even if the boy didn't deserve to be hurt because of the blood on his mentor's hands, even if doing it was petty and cruel, Macaque did it. He did it and he wouldn't excuse it. His life was full of sad backstories that could explain every twisted step he took, you could see pain in the way he shattered the trust of a bruised kid, you could see despair in his grip upon a girl throat as she was burned by a world-ending flame, you could see, dare he says, love in his need to marks his lost King, for him to be as bruised as he felt. But no matter what you saw, no matter what you thought, what remained was what he did. And he wasn't going to shy away from it, to hide behind tears and cries of “being broken”.

Macaque wasn't cruel, but that didn't mean he wasn't capable of cruelty.

There were no excuses. No reasons. He hurts him, fully aware of what he was doing, never once regretting it, and for that he wasn't going to fool him with a “sorry” only truly meant to lessen his guilt. Because Macaque knew, when he gazed upon the kid's face, that if he dared to utter any semblance of apology, the kid would forgive him in a heartbeat.

And Macaque didn't want to be forgiven, as much as he didn't want MK to forgive so easily the one responsible for some of the wounds covering his heart. Mayhaps, he should talk with the kid about boundaries and self-respect, but how can he even explain things he didn't even fully understand ?

MK was a star passing through the sky, and he was only one of the shadows that tried to latch on it, he wasn't in any place to lecture the kid.

“Hey, do you think you could… warn the troops about Wukong situation…” Asked the warrior, he didn't know how the sage would react to the monkeys, and if there was one thing he wanted to avoid at all costs, that was the terror in their faces if the King ever decided to draw their blood. “Warn them to stay far away”

“Oh…yes, I… I can do that.” Replied the kid, he rose and threw a doubtful eye at him, and admittedly the sage curled at his side. Macaque shook him off with an easy smile, and MK's face lightened up slightly.”

You have a good kid.” Mumbled the warrior once he saw the boy disappear behind the forest towering trees. He turned towards the sage, and Sun Wukong straightened up, perhaps sensing his seriousness. “Don't mess it up.” He didn't know if the King understood him, but he felt satisfied by the lingering gaze the sage threw towards the forest.

Macaque rose after a bit, stretching slightly, popping his sleeping bones. Hunger gnacked at him but he didn't want to step on the grass, not now at least. The sage perked up when he heard the rumbling of his stomach, ears erect, looking at him with round eyes. Sun Wukong looked towards the grass, then towards him, going back and forth between the two places.

“I'm not going anywhere.” Huffed the warrior, and that was enough to push the King. Macaque wondered if Sun Wukong could at least partially understand his words, the sage looked like he had some semblance of comprehension, at least enough to understand his intent. Sun Wukong rose and trotted towards the grass, he disappeared behind the trees, cooing now and then, to check on the warrior. As humiliating as it was, and as much as he didn't want to, Macaque replied with his own set of coos. He didn't know how the King would react if he wasn't sure of his presence, and he didn't want to find out. He just hoped the kid couldn't hear him, because this was quite embarrassing.

Sun Wukong returned after a few minutes, hands full of peaches, and Macaque wasn't even surprised, of course this fool brought peaches. He handed some to the warrior, cooing reassuringly, as if Macaque was a small, scared animal that needed help. The ebony monkey scoffed and begrudgingly took the food, firmly ignoring the sage thumping tail. He didn't need help, he could have found his own food, he wasn't that useless. And, least of all, he didn't need Sun Wukong's help.

Even if Macaque didn't show it much, he had a pride of his own. Of course, he wasn't the kind to prioritize his pride over his hide, like some idiots he wouldn't name because the mere thoughts of their faces was irritating. Macaque had common sense, and enough shame to not embarrass himself with petty fights. However, he did have pride, a warrior's pride.

He didn't need anyone, and he wasn't a coward. Macaque was the kind to wait, to retreat when things went dire, and come back keener, stronger, crueler. Tactical retreat wasn't the same as flee, even if some cheap chicken wing with legs didn't share the same thought.

The sage ate without any grace, juice running on his chin and tainting his sun-like fur, sometimes groaning in joy, fangs tearing the soft skin with glee. He ate like a monkey, and while that shouldn't be surprising considering Wukong was a monkey and never truly cared for manners (at least if he was still like what Macaque remembered) it was still uncanny to see him act so beastly. Sun Wukong was unruly and chaotic, idiotic even, free from everything, but he still walked like a man, talked like a man, thought like a man. This… monkeyish Sun Wukong was unfamiliar. Perhaps the sage had been like that at his birth, Macaque wasn't there at the time so he couldn't testify. But even then, it was weird to see sides of a man he thought he knew everything about.

Because it raised the question, did he truly know everything about Sun Wukong ? He knew a lot, certainly, but there were bound to be things hidden from him, sides he never got the chance to discover. Sun Wukong wasn't a good lier, at least that's what Macaque always thought. But what was even the point to ponder that now. It is not like he wanted to discover more sides of the great sage, he was here for survival, nothing else.

Sun Wukong suddenly whined, pulling the warrior out of his thoughts, and scratched his back with narrowed eyes (perhaps narrowed “eye”was better, considering the sage's left eye was still messed up). Macaque snorted at his misery, and he received a handful of sand for that, what a brat.

“You got what you deserve. You shouldn't have rolled around, dry sand and fur doesn't mix.” Snickered the macaque with crossed arms, the sage flopped at his feet, on his back, and looked at him intently.”What ?” The King chirped a small coo, something meaning “help”. “And what do you want me to do ? I can't magically make the sand stuck in your fur disappear.” Sun Wukong whined and pawed at his leg, perhaps trying to sweet-talk him. “I am not grooming you, Sun Wukong.” Retorted the warrior, but the golden fluff ball didn't stop, only whining louder. #Stop acting like that, you're not a kid, that's embarrassing. Get up.” The sage pawed harder, eyes imploring. “Oh my god, don't you have any shame !? Stop looking at me like that, you look ridiculous” The great sage, whined even louder, ear pinned back, paws pulling on his pants. “You know what, fine. You want to be clean, I got an idea.”

Macaque invoked a shadow portal with a flick of wrist and drenched the King, snickering when he caught a glimpse of the sage's flabbergasted face ; he looked like a wet rat.

“Don't worry, it's not salt water.” Sun Wukong looked at the macaque with a pout, pure betrayal etched on his face. He crouched down, tail swaying mischievously in the air, and Macaque quickly recognized this stance. “Wait, no, don't.” The warrior fled before the sage could pounce on him, running away from the wet beast wanting to smother him. “I helped you ! Don't approach me, you wet rat !” Screeched the warrior as he evaded the sage's attack.

Sun Wukong finally pinned the warrior down, smothering him in wet fur, and pawing at his face a little while giggling like a five year old. Macaque tensed when he felt the sage towering over him, but did his damn best to not attack him, even if his heart was beating fast, and his claws were picking at his palms. He knew Sun Wukong wasn't looking for blood, but it was still unselting to have him so close. He pushed the sage away after a bit, glaring at the snickering golden menace.

“Pff..” Macaque immediately looked towards the forest, and groaned when he caught sight of a giggling MK, phone in hand.

“Did you record this ?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Answered the boy with a very annoying smirk.

“This is not what you think it is.” Grumbled the ebony monkey.

“Really ? Because it really looked like you two were playing.”

“We were not !”

Sun Wukong shook himself like the pitiful dog he was, throwing water everywhere, Macaque glared at him for daring to get him more wet.

“You could have done that away from me, don't you think ?” Grumbled the warrior, but Sun Wukong only tilted his head to the side, looking clueless. “Oh yeah, now you pull the “I understand nothing”card, I see what game you're playing, you jerk.”

MK bursted out laughing and the sage snickered, like the little devil he was.

Macaque was surrounded by jerks.

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