#also the wounds are more around the eye not on it

[hrrtshape]

EMMA±??±?±?±?±??!?!?!?!OMGORMGOGMG????? STORYTIME HELLOW WHERE DID U EVEN SHIFT TO

i spent 15 days in the upper east side and now i have an existential crisis about my real life (but in a hawt way)

unlike my previous shifts, where i’d spend 10 minutes, maybe 20, dipping my toes into a life so much better than this one, i spent fifteen whole days in my better cr. fifteen days ago, i woke up in my king-sized bed with 1000-thread-count sheets and realised i had, in fact, won in life.

i had done it. no brief glimpse, no fleeting moment before snapping back to my real-world peasantry. fifteen days. enough time for a full socialite saga and to meet my beau!?!?!??! enough time to wake up in pyjamas which might as well been the most comfortable thing i've ever worn, hear the distant clatter of someone else in the other rooms, and stretch luxuriously as if i were in a renaissance painting. i could smell money in the air FOLKS!?!?!!!! not new money, but old money, the kind that sits heavy in the walls (!??!?!?), the kind that makes people say your last name like it means something. and this was my life. MY LIFE. at last. took it long enough.

the first morning, and you have to understand my main character syndrome for this, i stepped out onto the balcony, the manhattan skyline.....mhmhmhmhmhm....mhm. mhm. mhmm. stretching before me like a personal prophecy, and i felt it in my bones!!!!!!: this was home. MY HOME. okay. so. then i went around, you know, exploring my little room (not little...) and girl the moment i stepped in front of a mirror.......WHO'S THIS BABE???? yea. yea. i even had a cat !!!!

then i went to school. sorry, went, i mean DRIVE. now, here’s the dealio. i had scripted myself into this effortlessly put-together, socially untouchable, well-adjusted manhattan teen heiress life. but there were gaps in my logic. big ones. like, for example: i couldn't drive. i didn't know how to drive !!!

and yet, there i was in the morning in my super super super sSUPPPERRR cutesie school uniform, keys in hand, standing in front of a car (a Porsche, people, a porsche!!!) that looked like it cost more than my entire life back in my cr. so, i acted like i totally knew what i was doing. slid into the driver’s seat with the confidence of someone who had done this a thousand times before, adjusted the mirrors like i had a clue, and started the car.

and then? i picked up lily-rose depp.

(she's not an actress in this dr, by the way. just my best friend. which is infinitely cooler.)

she didn't even question everything. just said i looked really hawt today. i was blessed. seriously. like i'm typing this and also screaming i want to go back.

somehow. miraculously. i got us to school in one piece. st. lazarus international college. it looked like a cathedraland felt like a warzone. we pulled up alongside a line of obnoxiously expensive cars (not a single honda in sight!?!?!?!?), and i barely had time to breathe before stepping out onto the pavement, uniform pristine, COACH. MOTHAUFCKING COACH TOTE bag slung over my shoulder like i was about to solve world hunger instead of sit through calculus (that shi fucking sucked btw !!!! but my school's classrooms were drop dead gorgeous).

anyways. i now have to brush upon something that made me almost let out a humongous squeal when i saw him. CORIOLANUS. yes. yes. yes. yes. yes,ewfygweuvbuihweiusvbgiweu`rs. i saw him. yep. yep. i had to slap myself. metaphorically.

SO. i had scripted that on my first day, i would give coriolanus snow a nosebleed.

and !?!??!?!?!!?! IT SUCCEEDED. when i first saw him, he was leaning against a row of lockers like he owned the place and i swear to god i almost moaned. crisp white shirt, tie loose, cheekbones sharp enough to wound, eyes narrowed. pray.

HO. HE WINKED AT ME. and then i walked past him with my bfffffff lily-rose and. and. and. nosebleed. bro. bro. bro. BROSKI. the way he blinked..........the way his breath hitched just a little as the first drop of blood slid over his cupid’s bow. the WAY he tilted his head back, tongue darting out briefly over his lip. oh my god. i was actively fighting to not go and jump on him and like do vile disgusting things.

i had won the war, but at what cost?

because he was so hot.

SO FUCKING HAWT.

uh. so. yeah. that was just the first two hours of my better cr, and it was already putting my entire existence to shame. like, objectively, scientifically, undeniably better than anything i have ever done in my cr.

ssssoooooo. IF ANYONE WANTS TO HEAR MORE…do let me know. because, hands clasped, eyes glistening, heart on the verge of combustion, i am being so serious. this was the peak of my human experience. i have tasted divinity PEOPLE. i have lived too well. i fear i must go back, or else i will experience genuine withdrawals from the lack of my paramour’s face in my daily visuals.

so yeah. if you’re curious… hit me up. (evil, knowing laughter echoing into the abyss)

OH AND. whenever i'd go to sleep there i'd like cry out of fear that i'd wake up in my cr but whenever i'd wake up just...there...i'd literally pray to god. BECCAUSE EIJISEJFEWUSHFIHEJI. i'm there.

anyway, i am so not okay about this. i keep coming back to edit, rewrite, relive. but okay. listen. if you ever had even a sliver of doubt about shifting, i am kneeling right now, hands clasped, eyes wide with conviction, telling you!!!!!!!

SHIFTING IS SO FUCKING REAL.

it’s real in a way that defies logic, in a way that makes the air feel electric, in a way that rewires your entire understanding of existence. so real. so unimaginably real.

[onlymingyus]

Fatal Trouble (teaser)

pairing; lee jihoon x f!reader 

genre; fantasy, heavy angst, mild horror, slow burn, smut (minor dni), toxic, fluff 

summary; where others would steal, bargain, or kill to live the life that jihoon had, he knew the truth. a charmed life was often a cursed one. 

content warnings; prince!jihoon, princess!reader, both the reader and jihoon’s parents are mentioned/in the fic, duke!mingyu, mild love triangle, jealousy, based on the beauty and the beast, beast!jihoon, some ideas have been borrowed from damsel, royalty au, time period not stated but not modern, curses, pregnancy/miscarriage scares, blood, mauling, murder/death, loss of parent(s), arranged marriage, crying, arguing, mental struggles, vivid descriptions of wounds/shifting, poor use of french, especially old french (i apologize). I am sure there are more—this is a very heavy fic. if there is anything glaring I missed, message me. (patreon will have additional warnings)

smut warnings; multiple smut scenes, virgin!reader, mild Dom/sub themes, dubcon leaning noncon briefly, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), handjob, pet names, crying (pleasure and not) — as always I’m sure I’m missing something, send me a message if it’s glaring. (patreon will have additional warnings)

w/c; 47k and some change (50k~ with patreon bonus)

once upon a time collab masterlist 

fatal trouble - enhypen 

a/n; thank you to @nothoughtsjustfic for putting together this collab. this has been a lot of fun and incredibly challenging all at the same time. also a huge thank you to @junkissed for proofreading this beast (pun intended). I know you are incredibly busy and you still managed to carve out a little time for me, I appreciate it more than you know. 

French word bank: Monseigneur - title for prince, Madame - title female royalty (queen/princess), Madame La Reine - title for queen, Monsieur - title male royalty (duke), Maman - mother, Mon fils - son, Mon amor- my love, Mon ange - my angel

this fic will be released 1/15 to read the full fic with the bonus now subscribe to my patreon and click here

You had always been told that dream weddings were made for princesses. So why was it on your own wedding day that you didn’t feel like it was your own wedding? You were in your dress, your flowers in your hand, as you stood next to your father in front of the large church doors, listening to the beautiful music, but it was as if you were watching someone else get married. 

“Ready, honey?” 

Had you said yes? You couldn’t remember, but it didn’t matter. You were putting on a smile and avoiding the eyes of everyone as you walked down the aisle, just attempting not to trip. One, two, three, four, five, six—by the time you reached the front of the church, you had counted 79 flower petals that had been dropped by one of your youngest cousins. They were very pretty petals. What did petals lining a wedding aisle mean again? Luck? Fertility? Transformation? A bond between families? 

“My wife and I.” 

Your father was speaking and offering your hand to someone else. You were getting married. Lifting your eyes, you meet Jihoon’s feeling, and your heart starts to beat frantically as it all seems to set in for you. The air settles around you and his hands on yours ground you bringing you back to reality. 

“You okay?” 

What did he want you to say? You could barely find words to speak so instead you smile and nod, watching him do the same as the priest continues the ceremony. You find yourself transfixed on the man in front of you, every piece of hair in place, his handsome smile, and his beautiful brown eyes. 

“Yes, I do.” 

He does? What does he—- 

“Madame Y/N Y/L/N of Thornwood, do you take this man, Monseigneur Lee Jihoon, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

The room had become deathly silent. You could hear a pin drop as they waited for your answer and all you could truly hear was your heart and unsteady breath as Jihoon kept his eyes on you. The words sit on the tip of your tongue until Jihoon’s fingers gently squeeze yours, giving you the confidence you need to continue and gaining a happy whispered cheer from the audience watching. 

“Ye—yes, I do.” 

Blowing out a breath, playfully. Jihoon smiles when you finally do speak, feeling the tension release from your fingers. You were nervous and that was making him even more nervous. You seemed like you were in another world until he finally brought you back and now that he had you and the priest was delivering the last of his lines, Jihoon felt like he could either throw up or like his chest could explode from being overwhelmed. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife. Monseigneur, you may kiss your bride.” 

His bride. His. He had never kissed you before, no more than the back of your knuckles but that hadn’t meant that he hadn’t thought about it or dreamt of it. Swallowing hard, Jihoon nods and takes one hand from yours to cup your jaw gingerly as he leans forward, his lips resting mere centimeters from yours, letting you decide to do the rest. 

Why had he stopped? Whining under your breath, feeling Jihoon’s breath against your lips, you furrow your brows and close the distance, pressing your lips against his for the first time hearing the audience burst into a loud cheer seeing the first kiss shared by a husband and wife. You had shared a kiss with Mingyu before; it had been small, just his lips brushing against yours before you had pulled away, but this was different. You could feel Jihoon smile against your lips. You could almost taste him before he pulled away, leaving you breathless and stunned at the alter next to him. 

It shouldn’t surprise you or Jihoon that the rest of the reception would be a whirlwind of well wishes and unsolicited advice. You find that once again your only saving grace is the man standing beside you, his hand linked with yours and his thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of your wrist as he carries most of the conversations. 

“Mm, no. We won’t be going anywhere. We have the coronation set for the middle of next week and there is so much to be done here. I will enjoy my bride at home. I’m hoping to spend as much time with her as possible.” 

You find yourself wondering how much of Jihoon’s words are true. Would he spend extra time with you? What would tonight be like? The idea of your wedding night has your stomach in knots and Jihoon tugging you tighter to his side, feeling your fingers closing around his. 

“I—mm, no, thank you. We’re fine. Really, we won’t travel often. If Y/N wants to travel—” 

Why wouldn’t Jihoon travel? That had come up time and time again. He was ready to send you back home to visit your parents. You two would be going nowhere after your wedding and now he was offering to let you travel without him? Furrowing your brows, you look up at your husband finally meeting his eyes, making him laugh a bit awkwardly and excuse you both as he grabs two glasses of champagne, leading you towards one of the windows, letting you rest against the sill. 

“This is exhausting. Are you alright?” 

Gladly accepting the glass, you hum between sips before tilting your head and looking out over the crowd that was luckily getting smaller as the afternoon crept by. “Fine. Ready to be alone. This is just overwhelming.” 

Nodding into his own glass, Jihoon lets his eyes move around the room before they land on Mingyu, who nods in acknowledgement before looking away. He was ready for everyone to leave as well, ready for them to go back to where they belonged—especially Kim Mingyu. “It’ll be done soon and you can head to bed.” 

Pausing mid-drink, you glance up at Jihoon before lowering your glass. "Oh, and should I—” Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, turning your head away, feeling awkward and uncertain about how to continue without sounding desperate. “Should I expect anyone to join me?” 

Jihoon had taken a drink and swallowed half of it when you finally got your words out. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t that. He hadn’t meant to react the way he had, but being caught off guard and feeling the champagne take a sudden wrong turn, Jihoon finds himself coughing as he tries to calm himself down and avoid your eyes and others as they look at him concerned. “I’m fine… I—” Tilting his head and clearing his throat, Jihoon holds up his hand, keeping others from approaching him or you as he repeats that he doesn’t need help. “I’m fine, I promise.” 

“Was my question that shocking?” 

Jihoon watches your lips quiver slightly, only for you to hide your emotions by taking a sip of the drink in your hand. “No—I, yes. I won’t lie, yes, but also it shouldn’t have been. Y/N, I’m not meaning to upset you.” 

Shaking your head, you clear your throat, feeling your cheeks flair with warmth from embarrassment. You were such a fool for even considering that Jihoon would come to your room or want you like that even if you were his wife. “I’m not upset. I’m tired. I’m going to go ahead and call it an evening. Say goodbye to the guests, Jihoon.” Stepping away from him, you meet his eyes, feeling his fingers trail over yours. “And get a wonderful night’s sleep.” 

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Jihoon groans in frustration at you and mostly himself as the door closes behind you, leaving him alone with the guests in the dining hall at the wedding reception. He had once again messed up and was left to clean up the mess. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to see you or be with you, but tonight was going to be a bad night. 

Some nights Jihoon couldn’t tell when he was going to shift, and others like tonight he could feel it from a mile away. Every inch of his body felt like it was on fire and the rumbling in his ears had been loud from the moment he had gotten up. He had barely made it through the wedding on sheer will, but now you had left him to the lions, and one in particular looked overly amused. 

Working his way through the remaining guests, bidding them a goodnight and explaining you had needed to go lay down with a headache, Jihoon felt his own headache growing with every single lie he told. It wasn’t until Mingyu had given him one more smirk and sipped at his whiskey that Jihoon cracked. “Something on your mind, Mingyu?” 

“Of course not, Monseigneur. Just awaiting my turn to give my well wishes to the beautiful couple before I retire for the night, but—oh, where is your bride, Monseigneur?” 

He was playing with fire and clearly drunk. Laughing under his breath, Jihoon nods and wipes his finger under his nose, moving closer to Mingyu. He could feel a subtle shift in the air, not realizing his eyes had already shifted in color from brown to gold. “Waiting for me in bed, like a good wife. Where she belongs.” 

Mingyu’s smile falters not only at Jihoon’s words but also at the change in his tone and the difference in Jihoon’s eye color. “Yeah, that so? She didn’t seem very happy earlier. So I figured you wouldn’t be satisfying her on her wedding night. Or at least that’s what her face was saying. I know her pretty well, you see.” 

Scoffing, Jihoon digs his nails into his palm, taking a step towards Mingyu, who doesn’t budge. “Do you know her pretty well? How well? Careful with your next words...” 

He had no reason to be afraid of Jihoon, and yet the air around Jihoon was causing Mingyu’s hair to stand on end. He could feel his heart rate starting to rise as he realized that the only people left in the room beside himself and Jihoon were servants. “I—yeah, I know—” 

“Monseigneur! It’s time for a night walk.” 

Time had gotten away from Soonyoung during the festivities. He hadn’t realized how dark it had gotten until he had seen Jihoon backing the larger man against a wall and he knew that could only mean one thing: Jihoon was shifting. “Apologies for taking away the monseigneur, but routines. Have a goodnight, Monsieur.” 

Left speechless, Mingyu is only able to take a full breath once Jihoon is ushered away from him and out the doors. “What the fuck—” His heart was slowly starting to calm down and the sense of danger seemed to dissipate the longer that he was away from Jihoon. There was something wrong with everything that had just happened. He was twice the size of Jihoon in most ways and yet the man had him almost trembling for a moment and quickly sobering up. Now the prince was going for a night walk? Where? You weren’t allowed to go out at night. That was one of the things you had told Mingyu. Now he was even more curious as to why. 

Guiding Jihoon towards the gates, Soonyoung grimaces, hearing the sounds of flesh starting to rip. This was closer than he wanted to be to a shift. It was dangerous and he had scars that he already bore from Jihoon and close calls. 

“Get away from me!” 

Trembling from the pain and fear of shifting, Jihoon growls out the words, glancing back at Soonyoung as he slams the gates shut in front of him, sealing him out for the night. The painful groaning roar that escapes Jihoon next almost breaks Soonyoung’s heart as he turns on his heels and runs back towards the palace, not seeing Mingyu lingering in the shadows near the gates watching Jihoon stumble and fall as he shifts into the beast. 

“Fuck—” There aren’t words to explain what Mingyu feels or the terror for you that runs through him as he watches the bear’s claws dig into the dirt as it runs for the forest snarling. There was no way he was going to let you stay here with that thing. He’d kill it before he’d let it hurt you. Without much thought, Mingyu heads back towards the palace and to his room to grab his knife before sneaking back out towards the forest in search of Jihoon, determined that only one of them would come back for you in the morning.

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[onelonelyghost0]

Danny was pissed.

Sure, he got his two weeks, but Clockwork could stretch one week into an eternity, and Danny doesn’t see the problem. Well, he does, but he also sees all the solutions.

“My boy, you don’t know the repercussions you could have!” Clockwork worries for the umpteenth time, “ The GIW could find you, you could’ve been killed, Dan-“

“Alright! I get it!” Danny cuts him off.

“I know what could happen! I’ve seen it! I’ve fixed it! I do all of your dirty work and barely take off days from work! I have their trust! The Justice League may be shit, yes-“

“Language,” Clockwork corrects absentmindedly.

“-but they don’t work with the GIW! I helped them, they’re more apt to help me now! If I’m King of the Infinite Realms and I’m to be the Ancient of Space, which you haven’t exactly been as sneaky with that training as you think you have, but I can’t protect?”

Danny stalks away from Clockwork, the predators grace he fights so hard to keep hidden on the Watchtower now on full display as he looks back as Clockwork, his words full of fangs and power.

“You’ll starve me. And you’ll be stuck with whoever kills me for good.”

Clockwork floated still, stunned by the Kings sudden resurgence of his Obsession, unable to see what the action will bring.

—-

Meanwhile, the Justice League wonders why Danny is suddenly away, and why Batman is lying so poorly about it.

Bruce was told not to tell, but he never was told to lie convincingly. He learned this particular loophole from Jason, after he told him not to tell his siblings about the gunshot wound. And Bruce learns his lessons well. So he not only lies to the Justice League, but to his family as well.

His children are like bloodhounds, sniffing out whoever has their father acting like this, and finding almost everything. The firewalls around Amity Park. The GIW. The experiments. How the ghosts weren’t even named, just numbered.

And how one Daniel Fenton, who bore a striking resemblance to one Daniel Nightingale, was in a near death accident with a portal that was Lazarus green.

And maybe, one of the Bats got a bit territorial. Making sure he got home ok. Asking oracle to keep an eye out. Seeing him in their civilian personas.

Danny knew he’d have a headache, but he didn’t expect one this big. Not one that gave him this many casseroles.

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[esotericbluntbaby]

confined

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: being mandy's best friend, you were ecstatic to be her maid-of-honor, only to realize that the best man was your ex. wounds reopen when you realize you're stuck with him in more ways than one.

mentions: nsfw/smut (no p in v, but moreso oral fixations..?) , angst, both of you are lowk assholes, forced proximity, hurt/comfort, happy ending, she/her pronouns, reader wears glasses, ex! hamzah

--

"he's right next door," she took the ice bucket from the counter in front of you two, "i can go get the ice if you want."

mandy was treating you like you were fine china during an earthquake: shattered, fragile, and delicate to the touch.

you and her have been best friend since past lives, finding each other in every single life you've lived. she understood you as well as you understood her, leading to a bond that was irreplaceable and youthful. so, when she asked you to be her maid-of-honor the day after martin proposed to her, you obviously checked the "yes" box of the letter she gave you. you liked martin for her; after seeing her get her heart broken by immature high schoolers a couple years ago and middle schoolers even before that, you took solace in the fact that martin genuinely cared about her in a way that radiates in the kindness he treats her with.

during this time, you and hamzah also had a bond as strong as you and mandy's. hanging out with mandy led to martin joining the hangouts, which led to hamzah joining after martin realized how lonely it must've felt to have both of your closest friends date and show their affection in front of their single friend.

throughout the hangouts, you and hamzah's relationship slowly emerged from the love that festered around you two. it was almost as if mandy and martin's emotions somehow spread into the emotions located between you and hamzah, leading to him admitting his emotions a couple of days after valentines day.

though mandy and martin got their fairytale-esque, happy "ending" in the form of a wedding, you and hamzah's fate was much more melancholy; compared to the love story you both witnessed, you and hamzah's story turned into shakespearean tragedy.

you and hamzah's relationship ended after 11 months; specifically, one month before things would have gotten to the "serious" stage. he broke up with you because he wasn't ready for things to get serious yet, as if it wasn't already. he acted as if you didn't pour the inners of your heart out to him whenever you'd whisper sweet everythings into his ear. he acted as if he didn't watch you as you slept with a look of pure bliss and engagement apparent in his eyes. you, on the other hand, acted as if it wasn't a big deal; you were never one for showing people how you feel. the people who understood you already knew that. needless to say, you and hamzah's current status was one that was ignored by the both of you. the existence of your emotions towards each other resided somewhere in the lower valleys of your heart and souls, holding on by a mere thread.

a three years ago, you would've been overjoyed with the fact that you'd be walking down the aisle with him as the last couple before mandy walked down with her father in her hand. however, with how unexpected the breakup was, nobody could have prepared the emotions that you would go through the week in the wedding.

the conversation you and mandy were having was currently in your shared hotel room which, ironically, had a single door and wall separating you from hamzah and martin. before it started storming out, mandy had gotten a glass of champagne she wanted to share with you before the wedding in three days. wanting to chill the bottle in ice first, you were conversing about who was going to go and get it from the machine.

you took the bucket from her arm, "no, it's okay. didn't martin say he needed to talk to you about your floral arrangements?"

"still, like, i wouldn't want you to just go out and possibly run into him before you're ready. we still have three days to prepare for that."

you sighed, "i don't care if i run into him, somehow. it's whatever at this point."

mandy's eyebrows furrowed slightly with worry, "are you sure you're okay with walking down the aisle with him? i get if you're uncomfortable- i can change the order, or, something-"

"mandy," you took your hands and firmly reassured her by placing them on her shoulders, "it's okay. i'll be okay. go talk to martin, i'll be back."

"okay, be safe. text me if you need anything."

--

going to the ice machine on the 9th floor, you turned the corner and walked towards the buzzing noise. the lighting of the hallways were fluorescent, with a hint of warmth in each lamp beside each door. the windows showed raindrops racing down the crevices of transparency; you could hear thunder very faintly in the background of the buzzing. reaching the ice machine, you read a sign on it written in thick, black sharpie.

broken! do not use! working ice machine on the first floor!

you looked at the map and, sighing, you walked back to the elevator and pressed the down arrow, waiting patiently for it to get to you. after hearing the ding of the elevator and watching the stainless steel doors open, you entered as your finger made it to the buttons on the side. pressing the first floor button, you stood in silence.

a part of you had been thinking about seeing hamzah this whole trip. though the other part of you hated him for how he ended things with you over some excuse, you also didn't want your best friend's wedding to be tense and full of resentment. then again, your plan was to simply walk with him and then separate for the rest of the trip and, eventually, the rest of your life. the part of you that thought about seeing hamzah was also the part of you that missed how dorky and lame he was; that was also the part of you that missed how he tasted and felt, skin to skin.

your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the ding of the door, revealing an ice machine conveniently right in front of you. taking the bucket, you placed it beneath the spout and pressed the button to fill it. suddenly, a clap of thunder caused you to jolt; you hated loud noises. you were beginning to regret leaving the hotel room.

quickly closing the bucket, you mimicked the opposite of your earlier actions: you pressed the up arrow, got in, and pressed the 9th button. you were planning on waiting patiently, once again, for the elevator ride to go smoothly. there was no one else in the elevator with you, meaning that you were free from awkward conversations with middle aged men. however, the door slid open once again and revealed the face you weren't planning on seeing tonight.

you knew hamzah liked going to the gym, however, seeing him so jacked after erasing him from your life for a full two years was an experience that you weren't able to even comprehend. his curls peeked through his beanie in a halo, slightly hiding the glimmer he always had in his dark eyes. one thing you noticed about him ever since you started dating was that he looked insanely good in simple, black clothing; currently, he was in a black tank top and black sweatpants. sweat was glistening off of his skin, providing a glow that was so lethal that it could blind you. this was your ex. you were currently admiring your ex and you hated it.

realizing it was you standing in the elevator, his eyes slightly widened at the thought of you. hamzah always enjoyed how you looked before going to bed. he liked the way your hair was let down and cascading down your back. he enjoyed how you looked with your glasses on and how smart they made you look. he admired how you slept in big t-shirts and shorts. the feelings were mutual. he was aware that it was bad he was thinking of you in this manner, however, he didn't care.

you moved aside, making room for him in the slightly cramped elevator. he walked and stood next to you, avoiding eye contact and still exchanging glances at you beside him. his hand moved towards the elevator floor buttons, soon realizing that the floor was already pressed. the elevator was quiet and you both sensed awkward tension emerging from between you two.

until, you both felt the elevator stop moving.

"uh- shouldn't we have been on our floor by now?" he questioned, breaking the awkward silence with the clearing of his throat.

you nodded, "yeah, um, it's been, like, two minutes."

"are we stuck?"

the lights went out as thunder crashed outside, causing you to jump once more. hamzah took out his phone and shined the flashlight onto you, revealing the slightly petrified expression held in your furrowed eyebrows and parted mouth.

he softly spoke, "hey, it's okay. i'm sure it'll come on soon."

you took out your phone and attempted to text mandy, ultimately failing when you realized there was no signal inside of the elevator.

"i'm not getting any signal, are you?"

he checked, "no, i'm not."

--

after the man on the elevator's loudspeaker told you that you had to wait for the storm to clear in order to be rescued, you could almost feel your heart drop down to your stomach. you were currently stuck in an elevator with the man that broke your heart and left you emotionally bruised for months.

you both sat on the floor on opposite sides. since there was no signal, there wasn't much to do other than sit there and stare at seemingly everything except each other; that was, until hamzah broke the silence.

"so.."

you made eye contact with him, a familiar feeling of nostalgic warmth entering your system. this wasn't to say that you completely forgot about what he did. that feeling lasted a second or two, before it was replaced with the reminders of anguish.

he continued, "how've you been?"

"fine," a tang of bitterness exited your mouth, "you?"

"i've been okay."

"cool."

"are you mad at me, still?" hamzah asked.

a look of disbelief plastered itself on your facial canvas, "are you serious?"

"look, it's not like i wanna be in this elevator with my ex either, but i am," he firmly reassured, "neither of us know when we're going to leave and neither of us can use our phones. i might as well make small talk-"

"that isn't small talk."

"then what is it?"

"it's talking about how i've been since we ended things," you sighed, "that isn't small talk. it's more than that."

a pause entered the conversation.

"okay, it isn't," his voice got softer, "i still want to know."

"fine. in reality, i ask myself what the hell i did wrong every night."

"you didn't do anything wrong-"

"well, i wasn't doing things right enough for you to stay."

silence entered the room, once again. you realized you were being snappy, but you couldn't help it. he was the reason mandy saw you as fragile and delicate. you hated him for it.

you continued, "maybe we should just stop talking. i think it's making everything even worse-"

he cut you off, "i still think about you."

"what?"

"like, i don't know, every night."

"that's such bullshit."

he scoffed, "just because i was the one that ended things doesn't mean it didn't hurt for me either."

"that's also bullshit. you chose to break up with me," you reminded, enunciating the "you", "that was your decision."

"well, you agreed, didn't you?"

"did i have a choice?"

"well-"

"no, i didn't."

hamzah took his beanie off to run his hands in his hair, allowing it to fall onto the floor beside him, "jesus fucking christ, you aren't even letting me explain."

you took a deep breath, "fine. go."

"you wanna know the real reason i broke up with you?"

"fucking obviously."

"well, smartass, i was scared, okay?"

"scared of fucking what? you think i wasn't scared-"

"if you haven't realized," hamzah got closer to you, "a relationship isn't just about you."

"y'know what, fuck you, hamzah."

he cocked his eyebrow, "what'd you just say?"

"i said fuck you. you're over here acting like you're hurt over it- acting like you weren't the one who left me when i needed you the most, giving me the most bullshit excuse. 'im not ready for things to be serious' i knew it was bullshit as soon as those words came out of your mouth," a glare overcame the admiration that was once found in your eyes, "in reality, you left me. that's all there is to it. i needed you and you fucking vanished. it's like you didn't even try-"

"don't even fucking say that," he grabbed your cheek with his hand, "i'd drink fucking poison if it tasted like you."

"what are you-"

"you think i don't regret leaving you? i do- i regret it every single fucking night when i'm laying in bed, so fucking lonely. it's like i see you everywhere, in everyone, and it just reminds me of how much i fucked up by letting you go. i miss you so fucking much, baby, you don't even understand. shit, i haven't even been able to finish ever since i left you."

a certain lust replaced the tension in the room, "what?"

"i can't even make myself finish anymore. it's been three years and i haven't gotten laid- i haven't even tried to. i knew they wouldn't be as good as you, doll."

"hamzah-"

"my question is," his face became inches apart from your face, lips being parted right in front of yours, "have you?"

you stayed in this position for another thirty seconds; you and hamzah were currently on the floor, noses practically touching from how close you two were. the tension in the room was both full of anger and sex; a concoction that shouldn't have been mixed in the first place, a cocktail that was dangerous to be drank.

"no," you swallowed, "no, i haven't."

"why is that, baby?"

your breathing became slightly heavier as nervousness was felt in the pit of your stomach, "hamzah, i can't-"

"use your words," his thumb teased your cheek in a circular motion, "why haven't you gotten with anyone since me?"

"no one could make me feel the way that you do," a tinge of dominance allowed itself to escape from you, "now, answer my question, hamzah."

"what's your question?"

"if i decided to kiss you tonight, would you just leave again?"

"fuck no-"

you latched onto him as if he was the only thing holding you together. immediately, your tongues explored each other's mouths. you both missed this feeling; you both missed this taste. hamzah tasted like the mint gum he'd always get whenever you guys would go to gas stations together; you could dive deep into how good he tasted. his hands roamed around your body, exploring a familiar lagoon that he missed swimming in.

though you enjoyed making out with him, he wanted more. unlatching from your mouth, you chased after his lips once again.

"relax, baby. i'm right here- i'm not going anywhere."

pinning you against the wall with his hands, his lips made its way to your neck. sucking and leaving bruised marks on the crevice between your shoulders and ear, you let out a small moan; it was the sweetest tune that hamzah hasn't heard in forever. he sucked harder, earning a louder and more whiny noise coming out of your mouth.

you gripped his hair in your hands tightly, "fuck, hamzah- i missed you so much."

leaving a kiss on your neck, he moved onto your collarbone, kissing and sucking softly. hamzah was marking you as if he needed people to know you were his, which he, in fact, did. low moans exited his mouth the more he sucked the soft and supple skin that was exposed. the more he marked, the harder you breathed and begged for more.

he remembered the soft spot that you had from three years ago: a specific area on your neck closer to your ear. taking that area he kissed it with a softness you haven't felt in years, then continued to suck a dark purple bruise with a roughness you craved in his absense. hearing the moan you let out, you felt hamzah grin against your skin.

afterwards, he decided to bite the area, causing a soft scream exit the back of your throat. gripping onto his hair harder, he led out a low groan. you both had no plans on stopping, until the power went back on.

hamzah stared at all the marks he made on you, as if he was picasso and you were his canvas. both of your eyes no longer held resentment: instead, adoration and love appeared in the glint of your irises. you noticed that hamzah's hair was a mess, as well as yours, as you both attempted to catch your breaths.

"what do we tell mandy?"

you were confused, "what?"

"uh, i kinda-"

you noticed your reflection in the stainless steel walls; you looked like you were attacked by a leaf blower in the reverse setting.

your eyes enlarged, "holy shit-"

"i'm sorry, did i go too far?"

"no, baby," you kissed him lightly on the lips, "i wanted you to go that far."

"i'm sorry for hurting you. i was already planning on apologizing during this trip," he held your hand, "but, now, i wanna ask you something else."

"which is?"

"will you take me back?"

"you gotta convince me that it'll be worth it."

he kissed your forehead, "even if it takes my whole life and everything i have. i promise you."

--

author's note

do u guys want more nsfw.. or do i stick to my angst with no smut...

[lansseaux]

Moments are best lived involved

Pairing: Mom! caitvi x daughter! reader

Synopsis: Vi changes the bandage over Cait’s eye whilst you try to get their attention

Warnings: S2 Act 3 spoilers

Author’s note: Going to do a couple different versions of this because I have soooo many ideas about Caitvi moms! trying to deal with their injuries and being moms — I’ll probably focus on Cait’s eye after the war just because Cait’s my favourite. The versions will include: the reader trying to mimic caretaking behaviour, the reader wanting an innocent sort of revenge (innocent since they wouldn’t have a proper concept of revenge) on the person who hurt their mother, the reader getting accustomed to bandages being changed roughly every x hours or medicine being taken every x hours (for example) and worrying that caitvi will forget when they go to sleep (thinking reader wakes them up in the middle of the night, but it’s a case of the increment being able to be skipped overnight), and either cait/vi struggling to do something with reader they did before they got injured. There might be more — those are just the versions off the top of my head.

Caitlyn and Vi were in their room, you were just about old enough to be left to your own devices and neither of them knew quite how you’d react to Cait’s wound. It was still fairly fresh, gnarly, and exposure was inevitable since Cait’s bandage needed to be changed frequently so they did their best to retreat into privacy. There was never any telling how long it’d take for you to grow bored of independent play however and it seemed today, time would not be on their side. “Mama?” You called, the sound of your footsteps dashing down the hall coming just as soon as Vi had unwrapped the old bandage. “Mama’s gonna get you!” Vi called over her shoulder, waiting a moment to listen out for the sound of your footsteps retreating again before she refocused. The response was almost immediate, the sound of you running in the other direction accompanied by squealing and laughter — it was the beginning to a simple but common little game where Vi would chase you around, tickling you upon catching up. A small smile had formed on Caitlyn’s face at the brief interaction and sound, faltering slightly as Vi made sure her wound was clean - despite the best attempt to be gentle. Soon, at the end of the hallway, you realised there were no footsteps. Your Mama wasn’t chasing you after all and so you began to run back towards their room, retreating when the claim came again, “Mama’s coming!” You didn’t pick up on her distracted tone.

“Sorry.” Vi murmured softly once Caitlyn failed to mask a sharp inhale, one hand on Cait’s cheek to keep her head steady as she disinfected her eye. “It’s healing well so far,” she reassured, setting a second only slightly bloody cotton ball onto a small plate with the Kiramman insignia. “Thank you.” Vi’s gaze returned immediately to Cait’s, “You don’t need to thank me every time, you know?” A half-tease backed by somewhat concerned intent, followed by a soft but amused sigh at the sound of your approaching feet. Cait chuckled softly, your footsteps were slightly apart - you were evidently trying to tiptoe and thought you were being much quieter than you truly were. “Excuse me?” Vi exaggerated as she unraveled a fresh bandage, a small giggle followed before you quieted yourself - quite obviously hoping they hadn’t heard. “Does mommy have to come tickle you too?” Vi had barely even managed to stand when your quick refusal came — being tickled by just Mama was barely tolerable for long — and your mother go to great efforts to suppress their laughter; Caitlyn, unsurprisingly, being more successful than Vi who has to pause before beginning to wrap the bandage over Cait’s eye. Confused by their laughter, you also pause — not wanting to be tickled but also now seeking reassurance. Once a couple layers have been wrapped, there’s no need to keep you at bay any longer and so neither discourage you when they hear you coming closer again. “Don’t tickle me!” You demand, slightly upset as the need for reassurance outweighs the fun of the game. “It’s alright.” Cait affirms whilst Vi remains focused on wrapping. You quickly sped closer at the affirmation, clambering onto a corner of their bed before settling beside Caitlyn, who had already opened an arm for you. Curious as ever, you watched at Vi as she secured the bandage in place; her concentration broke momentarily to blow a raspberry at you, earning herself an accusatory finger. “Mama, that’s naughty!”

“Naughty? That’s not naughty—” Vi tried to explain but you cut her off, “Mommy said it’s naughty!” Her eyes flickered to Caitlyn’s, at which Cait corrects, “I said, it’s impolite.” Vi scoffed playfully, “What’s impolite is not paying off your debts and *you*,” her gaze fell from Cait to you,* “have a debt to pay with the tickle monster!” Your squeal of protest was cut quickly cut short, giggles taking over as Vi tickled you. “Mama!” You just about managed every few seconds between giggles, the half-hug from Cait makes it even more difficult to escape though she soon withdraws her arm, a gentle smile on her face as he watched the interaction. A moment of reprieve is gifted before the tickling continues again, your breath barely caught and after a few more seconds, a small cough escapes between the sounds of laughter and Vi stops - the signal typically had Cait fussing but this time, Vi was a step ahead. She lifted you, a surrender cuddle ready but it seemed your cough did not mean your energy was spent just yet as you resisted in favour of trying to tickle her beneath her chin, giggling, only… it didn’t seem to work. “Are you challenging me?” Vi teased, ticking you gently for a moment as you squealed a protest, before returning you to Cait’s side — who quickly became your next victim. Her smile remained, amused by your antics, “Mommy’s not ticklish either.” The claim became void a second later when her armpit was caught in the crossfire. And as the air filled with shared laughter once more, Vi watched with a bittersweet smile — there had always been so many things she’d wished she could have changed, people she wished she could have saved, and yet… if she could, if she did, the possibility that you would never have come into her and Caitlyn’s lives, that she’d never have met Cait, was entirely plausible. She didn’t allow herself to dwell long enough to cry, playfully questioning who she should help, for moments were best lived involved.

[hivemuthur]

You have invited me in you inbox, and here I am, like a starved goblin. I can't get enough of Dom Viktor. The way he has you wrapped around his fingers without even touching you, dominating both your body and mind with the way he looks at you and his words. By the time he finally touches you, it's not long before you come undone. He's soft and caring for your comfort, which only makes it more erotic.

Hello, love, sorry for the long wait! I took the opportunity and went into classic dom/sub mode, hope you don't mind :v

Lay My Hands on Heaven

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! with Dom!Viktor TW: bondage, subspace/domspace without being mentioned + aftercare brought to you by @rennethen

word count: 2,1K

author's note: Title from NIN song. And yes, this is also mostly smut, but Viktor is a good dom :v I guess my last time victory of writing something under 1K was a fluke :')

—

The rope gets hung over your neck and draped down your chest as you kneel obediently on the mattress and Viktor takes a moment to think. He props his chin on his hand and gives you a long, calculating stare. Then, his fingers trace your collarbone as he cris-crosses it between your breasts and moves to the back. Your breath hitches once he ties the first knot.

“Too tight?” You can’t see him, but you know he smirks. His hand rubs your back between the shoulder blades before he moves back to the front to continue. He brushes his thumb on your lower lip and murmurs, “So pretty like this,” and something jolts inside you as your lids flutter shut.

After a moment of nothing, you open your eyes to meet Viktor’s drilling into you, his expression unamused. Your eyebrows shot up and he says again, “I have asked you a question, haven’t I? Is it too tight?”

“No,” you answer, and your voice is so breathy it’s almost non-existent. Viktor nods and proceeds. He works carefully and meticulously following the pattern that soon creates a harness on your chest—going from your neck, down, down your sternum to spread onto your shoulders, securing your arms on the back. It’s done so you can palm your elbows behind you. The lower bits wrap around your stomach, and you feel the familiar sensation of a hug that both comforts and restrains. Rope digging gently into your flesh with every miniscule movement, the anticipation of marks it’s going to leave everywhere makes you breathe a little deeper, a little calmer.

He sneaks his fingers between the knots and your skin and pulls on each, checking if they will hold, making you whimper. Viktor pauses, his eyes narrowing. He moves his face so close to yours that your mouths touch when he mutters, “Do I need to gag you?”

You shake your head. He repeats, for around fifth time already, his voice is annoyed but expression playful. “Words?”

“No,” a quiet quip escapes you and the proximity is killing you both. You don’t move, save for the quiver of your mouth opening wider against his. And Viktor squeezes this opportunity dry—he sends a hot breath straight inside, a chuckle, a tease of his tongue. First on your upper lip, then past the entrance, licking the roof of your mouth, a quiet smack against it. You will all the cells in your body to not budge an inch and it pushes a drop sweat through the pores on your forehead.

And Viktor dares to chuckle in an attempt to cover up his own strain. And then he dares to disguise his own visceral want as a mercy, when he grabs your jaw and bites your lip before kissing you. When his tongue invades your mouth, nose presses into your cheek and knuckles whiten on your chin. “So needy,” he coos, pulling away, lovingly mocking the way you lift your hips, and your face follows his.

You shoot him a wounded look and he props your chin with the handle of his cane. “I think you are still granted a little too much freedom of movement.” Something roars in his chest when he sees you like this and realises it’s all his doing.

Cane reaches to the side of the bed, and Viktor pulls up another set of ropes and places it in front of your knees. He hooks two loops over your neck—one for each side— and stretches the remaining length between his fists. The rope wobbles in front of your eyes and Viktor hums, “Open your legs.”

Smile invades his face, when you slide your knees apart and hold your breath in anticipation. “Are you nervous?” he chuckles and before you can answer his middle finger traces through your slit. “Ah, I see. Not nervous. Exited.” When the finger brushes your clit you whimper and bring your legs together in an involuntary twitch, which earns you an amused scold. “This is exactly why we need those,” he sings, pulling on one of the loops around your neck.

Soon enough, your legs get bound in a permanent bend—calves attached to thighs, leaving your feet free to wiggle. Loops on both sides connect your neck and knees, causing your legs to open, and remain open, when Viktor hooks his cane over one of the knots on your back and swings you down to the mattress. Arms restrained under you push your ribcage out, arching your spine.

Viktor hums, a very pleased smirk dances on his lips. He adjusts a rope here and there to finally sit in front of you. He looks into your glassy eyes, his gaze follows down where the binding is already leaving indentations in your skin. He sighs, content, and when his eyes drop between your legs, for a moment he just watches you drip.

Feeling yourself shrinking under his scrutiny you throw, “Take a picture, it will last longer,” before you can bite your tongue. Next thing you hear is your own squeak at the immediate slap to your cunt—not hard, a warning.

“Are you forgetting yourself?” Viktor huffs, bemused by your tone. “I am almost tempted to just leave you here,” he threatens and smiles, seeing your eyebrows knit together in a silent plea. His hands walk by your sides, until you are caged between his arms, his clothed groin brushing your core. He presses it down on you and you moan and clench, spine arching even further. That’s going to leave a stain.

And Viktor is exactly in as much pain as you are. His clothes burn the sensitive skin, cock so uncomfortably restricted by his fly and belt he could howl. So he tries to cover it up by burying his tongue between your lips, licking into your mouth, while making the most obscene sounds you’ve heard, and you so desperately want to clench your thighs, but you can’t. And it feels amazing for the both of you.

“I love you so much like this,” he allows himself to slip. Because having you all bound and completely at his mercy is almost better than fucking you. Almost.

He comes back to kneel between your legs, props the bad hip on the pillow and frees himself from the confines of the fly. Cock rests idly against your entrance—wet smacks against wet as he bucks slowly, teasing your clit. Your neck arches and throat bobs, your mouth falls open, palms squeeze your own elbows until your fingers go pale.

You are positioned so well, he enters you with no hands. Eyes molten, as he observes his cock disappear within you and you both groan once he’s hilted. He watches your womb bulge where the tip hits and he needs to feel it with his fingers. He brings his palm to rest on your lower belly—the softest press making your insides even more cramped. Thumb stretches down to your clit, making you moan out his name, “Viktor—"

“Yes? What do we say when we feel like this?” He answers the call, face as composed as ever, but voice wavers, only for your ears to hear.

“Thank you,” you breathe out and Viktor’s eyes roll in his skull. He picks up the pace, his right hand glued to your belly and clit, rubbing small circles, the other one traces his rigging work on your leg. Cock keeps hitting the roof of your cunt and you feel yourself growing tighter and tighter, the ropes digging deeper into your skin, all the sensations mixing together into one, blissful, blinding orgasm, as you come with a bunch of loud fucks and oh gods falling from your mouth.

Viktor’s head falls back on his shoulders at the feeling of your walls milking him, and he keeps fucking you through it. Mercifully, he releases your clit from under his thumb, only to press on your navel a little bit harder, caressing himself through the layers of your abdominal muscles.

With a couple of more hard thrusts, he clasps a hand to his mouth to cover up the sob that pushes past his mouth once he pulls out and spends himself all over your belly. A sputter of warmth startles you and you watch him, shoulders relaxing, forehead damp, shirt clinging to his chest, fingers loosely covering his lips. He blinks once, twice, gathering himself together, and gives you a grateful, loving smile. “You are such a good girl.”

You wiggle impatiently, willing him to kiss you and he comes down to press his lips to yours, a soft, chaste touch. “You did so well, lásko,” he hums, before showering your face with feather light pecks, each interrupted by a quiet praise and you feel yourself melting away.

When he gets up, he takes a moment to admire—your tied up form, legs apart, his cum painting your stomach, you so undeniably his in this moment. A quiet sigh escapes him, when he snags his cane and heads off to the bathroom, leaving you blissfully fucked out. You can hear the water in the sink turn on, and the bath towel cabinet open and close.

He doesn't stay away for long, and returns with a slightly damp, warm cloth. “I'm back,” he coos as he reaches you. “ I didn't forget you”.

You can feel the warmth swiping against your stomach and you involuntarily shiver at the sudden touch. Viktor’s hand lands on your belly in a reassuring rub. He moves the cloth down between your legs to clean up the mess he’s left behind. Hums all the way through it, his palms swiping across your body in a gentle caress.

Once again, he disappears in the bathroom to clean himself up and bring you back some water, lotion and a bathrobe. The mattress dips beside you as he sits and threads his fingers through your hair. You shift, ropes tightening around you, the space you are in slowly dissolving. “Untie me?” You plea and Viktor chuckles warmly.

 “Certainly.” He presses his lips to your forehead and murmurs, “Though I do enjoy the view thoroughly.”

His fingers begin the work of ghosting over the ropes, before settling on the ones on your legs. First, he unhooks the loops keeping you compressed, and you sigh in relief of being able to relax your stomach. Your left leg gets untangled first and Viktor traces the indentations with his fingers before rubbing in some lotion. His face is close to your skin, his expression calm as he mutters, “Well, that’s just beautiful, isn’t it.” He repeats on the other side, kneading your calves and thighs, before pulling you up to face him.

He hums and chuckles into a kiss he leaves on your lips, then moves behind you to free your arms. “So pretty,” he whispers absently, high in his own space, when he notices you’ve been quiet all this time. His palms slide down your shoulders and his mouth presses to the back of your neck. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Yes,” you hear yourself muttering. “Just sore and tired,” you add, sleep tangling your tongue. Viktor responds by kissing your wrists, the crease of your elbows, your shoulders and rubs more lotion into your skin. “Come, let’s get rid of this,” he murmurs pulling you to turn around and perch on his lap, your legs splayed on either sides of his hips.

He tugs on the harness, bringing your lips to his, as he whispers, “You undo me.” And what Viktor means is that your trust, your offerings, shatter him completely. He pulls the rope out of the knots and rolls it up around his arm. Then, he warms the lotion between his hands and places his palms flat on your navel, working his way up. And this simple act of getting undressed once again feels almost more intimate that being tied up not so long ago.

He kisses your chest, following the rope bruising there. Fingers and lips travel up to cup your face and rub his thumbs on your cheeks, adoration seeping from his gaze. He wraps you up in the bathrobe, before beckoning you to lay down and nuzzle into his chest. Warm hands pull your flush against him and as you breathe in his scent, Viktor croaks, “Thank you.” You want to ask whatever for, but sleep presses on you and the only thing you can muster is, “I love you.” You kiss his neck and your mouth stays there, open, fanning his skin as you both drift off into slumber.

[angelsdean]

found the post. anyways as I said here, jack and emma are so similar. both had to grow up fast. both had one human parent and one monster parent. the difference is jack was the son of lucifer, which one would expect would warrant more apprehension and caution, while emma's monster parent was less dangerous overall. yet emma is the one that gets killed, point blank, without a chance, while sam advocates for jack and insists he could be good (though a big motivator for this belief is that sam wants to train jack to use him to find mary).

as per my tags on this post, dean has a pretty consistent code when it comes to monster children and that's that they are innocent until they choose to prey on / kill innocent people. my tags on that post:

#he was sympathetic toward bobby-john the shapeshifter baby #he said it wasn't his fault he was born a shifter #and he spared amelia pond's son bc he hadn't done anything wrong #and when claire was a werewolf he told her it was okay that she could still have a life as a monster #bc the cure was not guaranteed and he would rather her be alive as a monster than dead #so i really do think dean would have been fine with his freak daughter (affectionate)

AND we even see him display this code of ethics toward jack. he says he'll kill him if jack goes bad. until then, they'll keep an eye on him, take him in. he's not immediately trying to kill jack. he's wary of him because of the aforementioned "being lucifer's kid" and because he still is sus about Cas suddenly doing a 180 on everything. But he still follows his code that until a monster proves to be a threat to others, he won't go after them.

so i think it would have been interesting to see the issue of emma be brought up again during this arc and see dean talk about her again (she's been on his mind, he was meant to tell mary about her in s12), and see some brother conflict over all of this. dean confronting sam abt his hypocrisy re: monsters when he's giving jack a chance but killed emma on instinct. dean's grief during early s13 being compounded as he also opens the wound of losing his child on top of losing cas, mary, and crowley. dean coming around to jack, as we see him do in canon, and it's not just because he starts seeing cas in jack but also because he starts seeing emma in him too.

kinda. kinda need s13 dean to confront sam abt emma when sam’s defending jack and insisting jack’s GOOD and not a monster or a freak just bc of who one of his parents is like. just need dean to ask, a little hollow a little broken, “then why was killing my daughter okay?” 

[natashaslesbian]

Happy House | NR | 2

Summary: You arrive on Natasha’s doorstep, having nowhere else to go. She patches you up and tries to figure out what to do next

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings/Content: Domestic Abuse / Verbal Abuse / Physical Abuse / Violence / Sexual Assault / Rape

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The ground was cold beneath your feet, despite the socks and sneakers that you wore. The winter air of New York sank into your skin, you craved the warmth from your favourite jacket. Your stamina had long ago faded, your legs not able to run any further. You had no idea how long it had been but the orange hue in the sky told you it was almost sunrise. You found yourself wandering aimlessly along the streets of the city, no destination in mind but your feet taking you on a familiar path. You turned on a few more corners until you arrived in front of the small cobbled pathway sketched into your mind. You’d been here before, no further than the gate but you stared up at the floor you knew she was on. The light was streaming through the curtains, a contrast to the dark street blocked from the morning sun. You passed silently through the gate and limped up the few steps before the door. Your eyes scanned the buttons, the last name of each tenant taped next to them. You hesitated as you extended your finger, why were you here? Would she even let you in? Cautiously, you pressed the buzzer “hello?” A quiet voice questioned. “Natasha” you sighed at the familiar voice “it’s y/n” you whispered.

There was a moments silence and you feared it was a sign to leave “I’m coming” the widow finally spoke. You allowed yourself to breathe fully for the first time in hours, your exhaustion beginning to take over as the pain started to consume you. It wasn’t long until you saw a wave of fiery red hair walking towards the door, she paused as she eyed you through the glass. “Y/n?” Natasha said worriedly as she opened the building door “I didn’t know where else to go” you replied as you looked up at her with tears in your eyes. The avenger didn’t need to ask you, she knew the fingerprints on your arms belonged to Dylan, and she knew that the bruises on your neck were his twisted artwork. “Let’s get you inside” Natasha said as she came forward and helped you to your feet, you whimpered as you stood up causing her to eye you suspiciously, not only worried at your obvious pain but also your laboured breathing. You noticed her questioning gaze and motioned to your t shirt. Natasha helped to lift it slightly and her heart ached at the littering of purple across your stomach. “Come on, we’ll get some ice on those okay” the redhead cooed.

You were so tired, each step taking the last remains of your energy. You practically fell onto Natasha as she helped to load you into the elevator. “I’m sleepy” you whined “I know, you just have to stay awake a little longer okay” the redhead said as she manoeuvred you gently. You winced as the lift came to a rumbled stop on Natasha’s floor “just a little further alright” she said. You hobbled weakly arm in arm with the avenger and waited patiently as she unlocked her door. In her panic to get to you, Natasha had left on all the lights. The brightness hit your eyes and caused the back of your head to tense in pain. You groaned and covered your eyes as the redhead quickly deposited you onto the couch and ran to each wall to switch off the lights. “Hey, hey, hey, you need to stay awake for me okay” she said as she returned to your fluttering eyes. “Please” you whimpered “it hurts” you cried, allowing your tears to fall freely. “I know sweetheart, it’s okay I’ve got you. Just let me patch you up then you can sleep I promise” the redhead cooed.

Natasha moved around the room with ease as she collected the supplies she needed. She was gentle with her touch as she used a damp wash cloth to clean the dried blood beneath your nose, and her fingers were soft as she closed the open wound on your cheek. “Almost done, I just need to wrap your ribs” the redhead said as she helped you to sit up slowly. Your breath was caught in your throat as you adjusted your position, you pressed the ice close to your skin revelling in the way the cold soothed your bruised skin. “This might hurt okay, I’ve gotta do it tight” Natasha said as she pulled your arms up. You whimpered at the movement and loss of coolness “just do it” you said. More tears escaped your eyes as the widow wrapped your ribs, she was sure to move quickly yet delicately. “All done” she eventually sighed “all done” she said as you let out a guttural sob. “I’m sorry” you cried. “No, no, no” Natasha said as she pulled you into her arms “you have nothing to be sorry for!” She exclaimed.

You continued to sob in Natasha’s arms until your exhaustion caught up with you. The pain you felt was astronomical and it was the greatest relief to finally close your eyes. “Get some rest y/n” the redhead spoke softly “I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise. You’re safe. I promise” she whispered as your cries began to soften. Natasha held you close until she was sure you were finally asleep, getting the rest you desperately deserved. She gently laid you down on the couch so that no pressure was on your injuries. Moving silently around the room, Natasha quickly cleaned up and placed all her essentials back into the small medical box she kept. She was careful not to make much noise while she prepared you a small bowl of soup, she hoped you’d be willing to take some painkillers when you woke up but you couldn’t do that on an empty stomach. The widow kept herself busy while you continued to sleep, her own anger would overwhelm her if she let it.

Natasha was lightly cleaning her apartment when she heard you shuffling around, exhaling a sharp breath as you moved. “Hey sweetheart” the redhead said as she entered the living room “I’ve got some soup ready for you. How are you feeling?” She asked. You groaned as used what little strength you had left to push yourself to sit up “what time is it?” You questioned, ignoring Natasha’s previous question. “It’s just gone midday” the widow kindly smiled as she moved cautiously closer. You started to panic at the realisation you had slept for way longer than planned. “I- I’ve gotta go” you stuttered, attempting to find balance on your feet. “Y/n I don’t think you’re in any condition to go anywhere right now” Natasha said as she rushed to help you stand. “No I have to go, Dylan…he’s gonna be looking for me this is the first place he’ll look. I’m surprised he hasn’t found me already” you exclaimed, pulling your arms out of the redheads grip “I need to go!” You said. “Go where?” Natasha said as she grabbed hold of your shoulders, cautious to not place too much pressure. “Anywhere, away from here, away from you. You’re not safe while I’m here” you muttered. “And you’re not safe if you leave” Natasha said, making sure you heard her loud and clear.

You let all of your weight collapse onto the widow as she helped you back down onto the couch. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this” you sniffled. “You didn’t, I did when I came to your apartment. I should’ve dragged you out of there as soon as I knew what he was doing. But I’m here now, and I’m gonna protect you I promise” Natasha said as she gently stroked your stray hairs away. “I don’t know how to get away from him Nat” you cried out. “We’ll figure it out” the redhead cooed already racking her brain for solutions. “You just rest ok, I’ll go grab your soup then you can take some painkillers” Natasha said, helping you to find a comfortable spot on the couch again. She was quick to warm your soup and bring it over to you, making sure you would heal as quickly as possible. There was a comfortable silence as you finished your meal and for the first time in hours you felt your mind go quiet.

“Y/n” Natasha said drawing your attention back to her “I’m gonna pack us some bags and we’ll go to a safe house ok” she said. “What?” You questioned. “I promised I’m gonna protect you and I mean that, so until your ready and able to figure out what to do next, we’ll leave” the redhead smiled. “You think I should just run and hide?” You asked, unsure as to what her motives truly were. “I think, I want you somewhere safe” Natasha said. “And then what?” You questioned “a mission comes up and you have to leave? He won’t stop Natasha” you said, keeping your tears at bay. “Then I’ll stop him!” The redhead said in desperation “Nat” you sighed. “No, we’ll call the police or I’ll go to Fury he won’t get away with this” the redhead pleaded. “He already has!” You shouted “n-no, he’ll pay for this I promise” Natasha stuttered. “It doesn’t matter, after what he’s done I-“ you mumbled, quickly wiping away a fallen tear.

The widow sat back slowly, she had suspicions and now she knew for a fact. “He rapes you doesn’t he?” Natasha asked as delicately as she could. “Please don’t say that word” you cried, rising to your feet suddenly. “Y/n” Nat said, wanting nothing more than to comfort you. “No” you mumbled as you pushed past her and headed into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. “Y/n please talk to me” Natasha pleaded beside the wood, waiting patiently for you to realise how much she cared. The house fell silent as the widow eventually slid down to a more comfortable perch. Keys finally began to jangle and Natasha thought you were finally coming out. Until she realised, you didn’t need keys for the bathroom door, only the front door. “Shit” the redhead cursed as she scrambled her brain to remember if she had taken the keys out of the door when she came in.

“Y/n, come out come out wherever you are”

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A/N: Thank you all for the support on this story and please remember that is you or anyone you know is struggling please reach out! There are resources available or you can always message me

- Astara Bell

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[Taglist]

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @nev-valkyriesdottir / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904 / @strange-night-owl / @acciowriting / @hatergirl-69 / @lovelyy-moonlight / @escapereality4music / @jizzuo308 / @imjustvibingsworld / @ciaoooooo111 / @fxckmiup

[astraanti]

Through your eyes

Optimus prime (Bayverse) (Mass displacement) x Fem human

4120 words

Note: My language is not english. This one shot was originally written in spanish. If you see a mistake in the translation, don't hesitate to tell me. Ty ❤️

This One Shot was based on the song Through the Eyes of a Child by AURORA!

Enjoy! ❤️

Tranquility at the base was a rarity, especially knowing that a war was lurking around the corner. A war that, as a species, had involved us for a few years due to our alliance with the Autobots.

In every great confrontation, there were always losses: a sea of debris, energon and spilled blood spread across the battlefields, mixing with the smell of black powder.

We hoped this would end soon. Too many lives lost, entire generations paying the price for an insatiable thirst for power. But for Optimus, this was more than a war. Each battle was a reminder of what he had lost, of what his people had sacrificed for a conflict that seemed to have no end.

For him, each extinguished spark was a new wound, an additional weight on his already tired shoulders. Although he tried to hide it behind his posture of unwavering leader, his optics could not lie. There was a weariness to them, a suffering that echoed in every word he spoke.

Optimus was not just a soldier. He was a witness to the fall of Cybertron, a survivor who had seen his world slowly die. And through it all, he kept fighting, not for glory, but for the hope of a better future.

He saw the consequences of war: pain, tears, and the sacrifice of beings of great heart and innocence.

However, that day was the exception. It was a light of hope that shone through the agony.

We had received news of a Decepticon ship crashing near the city. We had to explore it because no vital activity had been detected inside. At least, that was what we thought.

At first Optimus refused to allow me to accompany him, but I insisted. I was not a soldier like the members of NEST, I am just a human civilian who wanted to accompany my partner, even on such a dangerous expedition.

“Stay close to me, no matter what,” Optimus ordered as we geared up for the mission.

I climbed into his cockpit in the copilot’s seat, aware that he was upset that I had persuaded him, but I also sensed a hint of resignation in his voice.

I stroked the inside of his cockpit. I knew how much he had been through in the past few days. His holomatter, a human projection of him, had nightmares. He didn’t need to sleep, sometimes he would activate his holographic form and stay in a recharge state next to me, seeking temporary relief in my arms.

I knew our relationship was a small refuge for him, but his past, so full of pain, haunted him constantly. It was inevitable.

All this time he had made difficult decisions, decisions that, although necessary, had left deep scars on his soul.

“Optimus…” I whispered, knowing he could hear me even over the roar of his engine. “We’ll be fine, I promise.”

He didn't answer, but I felt a subtle shift in his energy. Perhaps it was a spark of hope, or at least the desire to be able to believe in my words.

For Optimus, even such a simple promise was an anchor. A reason to keep going. Because he had carried the burden of an entire world on his shoulders, he now had something else to protect: not just a cause, but someone. Me.

And although he didn't say it with words, I knew what he felt.

And so the journey began. A caravan of Autobots and military convoys followed us closely. The tension of discovering what that Decepticon ship was hiding kept us alert. We knew it could be a trap, but there was also the possibility that luck was on our side.

I could see the sunset from the window, it was like a breath of fresh air for my soul. Being locked between base and base was sometimes suffocating for me. It's so nice to have a scene like that and be a spectator of it.

So, Optimus opened the passenger window halfway to make the experience more pleasant, he knew how much I liked sunsets.

"Thank you."

It wasn’t long before the sun began to set and night began to creep into the sky in the company of the glittering stars.

But it also meant that we were close to our destination. The Decepticon ship soon loomed in the distance, though visibly damaged, it stood in a field of twisted debris and charred metal.

The impact marks and cracks in its structure were proof that it had fallen from a great height. The air was permeated with a strange metallic smell, mixed with the scent of spilled energon.

The NEST soldiers descended from the vehicles as we arrived; armed and in formation, they scanned the surroundings with military precision. Some set up a security perimeter, while others secured the area.

I jumped out of the truck.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of gears and metal parts moving beside me, indicating that Optimus had transformed.

"Stay tuned. We don't know what we can find here," Lennox warned firmly, his eyes scanning the field for any sign of activity.

The Autobots were the first to approach the ship. Optimus led the group with his posture full of authority and determination. Bumblebee advanced behind us, emitting a couple of musical phrases through his radio as a way to relieve the tension. Ratchet, always attentive, inspected any energon residue he found, while Crosshairs complained loudly.

"Why do we always have to explore the most unpleasant places? Is there no Decepticon ship that doesn't smell like death?" Crosshairs grumbled, adjusting the weapons he carried at his waist.

"Stop complaining, Crosshairs. If there's no danger, it's better for us," Drift intervened, momentarily unsheathing his twin katanas to cautiously explore.

"Everyone stay focused," Hound growled, holding his huge weapon. He looked around suspiciously, always ready to open fire if necessary.

I stayed by Optimus’ side as we made our way to the entrance of the ship. However, something inside called to me.

“Stay close to me, you promised,” Optimus reminded me in a firm but protective tone, stopping for a second to observe me.

I nodded, but that strange feeling kept pulling me somewhere else. It was something I couldn’t ignore.

The Autobots began to make their way through the various cabins of the ship. The structures were torn apart, the hallways barely lit by sparks, and there was a faint blue glow of dried energon on the walls. They found no signs of life, not even the slightest noise.

Ratchet knelt next to a dead Decepticon, inspecting his body.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Ratchet said, shaking his head. “Their processors are completely fried, as if a massive overload had instantly disabled them.”

“An experimental Decepticon weapon?” Drift asked, his gaze fixed on another nearby body.

“It’s possible, but there’s no clear evidence. It could be something internal…” Ratchet interrupted himself as he examined the corpse. “Still, there’s nothing.”

As Ratchet and the others figured out the source of the charred processors, my focus on the hunch kept taking me elsewhere. I tried to figure out what it was, but I felt a slight warmth in my chest, as if an invisible energy was directing me.

So I made the decision to separate myself while Optimus explored the controls area in the cockpit.

I was so wrapped up in chasing my intuition. And...

I found it.

But Optimus found me before I could take another step. I felt his presence a little before I heard his deep voice echo behind me.

"I told you not to get away from me," he scolded me in a stern tone. His optics looked at me more with concern than anger.

I raised my hands in apology, feeling small before his imposing figure.

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry, but... there's something here, Optimus." I don't know what it is, but I can feel it," I replied, pointing at the metal door at the end of the room.

He looked where my finger was pointing, his face hardening. Without saying a word, he advanced towards the door and, with the brute force that characterized him, ripped it off its hinges.

What we found on the other side left me speechless. The room was covered in dried energon debris, forming dark puddles that seemed to glow faintly under the dim light. But most disconcerting were the human toys that were scattered across the floor. There were worn-out stuffed animals, plastic cars, and dolls with broken limbs.

"What is this...?" I muttered, feeling a chill run through me. I took the largest toy in my hands and examined it to see if there were any marks or messages that might give us some answer. But there was nothing, it was just a worn-out and broken toy.

I put it back on the floor.

I pulled my flashlight from my belt and began scanning, illuminating the corners of the place as I tried to process what I saw. What were human toys doing here? It didn't make sense.

Optimus remained silent, but it was clear that he was also analyzing the scene. Suddenly, a soft, high-pitched sound broke the silence. It was Optimus' radar, activating.

"There's an energy signature..." he said cautiously, tilting his head slightly as if trying to locate the source of the energy on the radar.

I turned to him, confused,

“Here? In this chamber?” I asked, shining my flashlight.

“Yes. It’s faint, but it’s here,” he confirmed, advancing with slow, careful steps.

My flashlight picked up something at the back of the room, in a dark corner. It was a small figure curled up between thick blankets, almost hidden among the remains of energon and scattered toys. I couldn’t make out what it was, but an impulse drove me to approach it.

“Wait,” Optimus stopped me, placing his huge hand in front of me as he crouched down to reach my height. His gesture was protective, as always.

“I just want to see it better,” I assured him, although my voice was carried away by my nervousness.

He nodded reluctantly and allowed me to advance under his watch. The energy signal grew stronger as we approached the figure. Whatever was there, it was alive. Or at least, something was still working.

Optimus followed me until we reached the pile of blankets stacked high. We both carefully removed them, until we realized what it was...

"My love?" I called out to Optimus and fixed my gaze on him, he was also in shock.

It was a torn sack of energon. Next to it, there was a small sleeping Cybertronian hatchling clinging to a dirty teddy bear.

Our souls sank into sadness.

I couldn't take it anymore, so I slowly approached the hatchling and stroked its head. Its large glowing optics opened in fear as it woke up.

"Hey! You're okay, calm down. We didn't come to hurt you, little one." I lowered the flashlight to the ground and put my hands in front of me to show the hatchling that it was completely unarmed.

Optimus remained silent behind me with his optics fixed on the small hatchling. It was as if he was processing the situation, as if what we were seeing couldn't possibly be real.

“How is that possible?” he finally murmured, a mix of disbelief and sorrow in her voice. “The hatchlings ceased to exist when Cybertron fell… none could have survived.”

But there she was, clinging with all her might to that worn-out little bear, shaking as if the mere act of existing scared her. The lights on her armor flickered weakly, a sign that she barely had enough energon to stay active, and she had deep dents in several parts of her body.

“Is it possible that she survived this long here?” I asked, keeping my voice soft so as not to scare her further.

“The hatchlings ceased to exist after Cybertron’s decline. The few that remained… they didn’t survive. Hunger, rust, and neglect…” Optimus stopped, unable to continue.

My eyes filled with tears at the sight of her so vulnerable, but I forced myself to remain calm. Slowly, I knelt in front of her, trying to look as unintimidating as possible.

“Little one, you’re safe,” I said softly, carefully bringing my hands closer so she could still see them. “We’re not going to hurt you, I promise.”

She cringed against the bear tightly, her large blue optics focused on me in terror. Optimus stepped forward, his imposing presence seeming to frighten her even more.

“Wait, Optimus,” I asked softly, holding up a hand to stop him. “Let me try.”

I stayed silent for a few seconds, looking for a way to get closer to her. I decided to sit on the floor, getting down to her level, and spoke again.

“Do you have a name?” I asked, trying not to sound pushy.

The child didn’t respond at first. She just stared at us, those huge optics full of uncertainty. Finally, she stammered something, her voice weak and shaky, as if she wasn’t used to using it.

“No… I don’t have a name…”

My chest tightened at hearing her. She was so small, she seemed so broken inside and out. I looked at Optimus, whose expression reflected as much pain as mine.

“Can you tell us how long you’ve been here?” he asked, lowering his voice to an almost fatherly tone, something unusual for him but comforting.

The hatchling shook her head, hunching further into herself.

“A long time… alone…” she whispered, her words cut off by small sobs. “The bad guys… gone. They’re all gone.”

My tears wanted to come out, but I held back. I couldn’t allow myself to show weakness now, not in front of her. I approached a little slower and more carefully, until I was close enough to touch her little metal hand.

“You’re not alone now, little one,” I said, lacing my fingers with hers. Her touch was cold, but I felt her trembling lessen a little at the contact. “I promise you that you’re safe with us.”

Optimus knelt down as well, his huge body making an effort to look less intimidating.

“We won’t hurt you, little one. I’m here to protect you,” he assured her, his tone full of warmth and promise.

The hatchling looked up at him, her optics shining with something that could be hope. She hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded.

“How can we help you?” I asked, gently stroking the less damaged part of her head.

She looked down at the broken energon sac beside her, her optics filling with tears that couldn’t fall.

“I’m… hungry…” she said in an almost inaudible whisper.

Optimus exchanged a quick glance with me, and in that moment we knew we had to do everything we could to save her.

“Ratchet,” Optimus called over the communicator. “We have a situation here. We need energon and medical equipment immediately.”

The atmosphere in the ship grew more tense as the other Autobots continued to scan the cabins for weaponry and any clues that would explain what had happened there. However, for Optimus and me, the priority had changed: this hatchling needed help, and fast.

Ratchet arrived shortly after, accompanied by Bumblebee, who was carrying a small container with refined energon. Seeing the hatchling, the Autobot medic couldn’t hide the surprise on his face.

“Primus… a Cybertronian hatchling, It's a sparkling ” he murmured, kneeling beside us to examine her. His expression quickly changed from surprise to professional focus. “She’s in pretty bad shape. She needs fresh energon and repairs.”

Ratchet connected a tube to the energon container and carefully brought it closer to the hatchling. She recoiled a little at first, but her instincts betrayed her. The hunger was too much, and after a moment of hesitation, she accepted the food. The blue liquid began to flow, and her optics glowed a little brighter with each sip.

“That’s it, little one. Don’t worry, this will make you feel better,” I said softly, stroking her head as she drank.

Bee made happy, surprised sounds.

“It’s a miracle,” Optimus replied, his tone grave but full of determination. “But we won’t leave her alone.”

As the hatchling finished feeding, her little systems seemed to stabilize a little. Ratchet performed a quick scan and sighed.

“Her structure is stable, but she has multiple damages. The armor is dented, and her spark is weak. She needs a more thorough treatment at the base,” he reported.

Optimus nodded.

“We have to take her immediately,” Optimus placed me on his shoulder. Finally, he took the baby in his arms and headed for the exit of the ship.

Many of the NEST and Autobot soldiers looked at the scene in disbelief. My vision was fixed again on the baby who looked at me with curious optics.

I couldn't help but smile to give her confidence.

•••

The return to the base was not the easiest. I had to get Bee and the baby into Optimus' trailer. Bumblebee, being a small autobot, fit, but with difficulty.

We realized that it was the most effective way we had to transport her to the base.

The noise of the city scared her too much, even though she couldn't see her through the walls of the trailer. I don't think she'd ever known the world outside that storage chamber.

But when we arrived, Ratchet, Optimus, and Bee carried the little girl into the Autobot medbay. I didn't leave their side for a second. The baby had fallen asleep in Bumblebee's arms, and they placed her on a makeshift stretcher while Ratchet prepared his tools.

"Will she be okay?" I asked, biting my lip. I watched the doctor adjust a monitor that projected the status of her spark.

"She will be, but she needs time and care. Her systems are severely affected, but with enough energon and repairs, she can recover," Ratchet replied, not taking his eyes off his work.

Optimus remained silent next to the stretcher, his optics focused on the little girl.

"She's so... traumatized," I said, saddened.

Optimus answered after a pause.

"The hatchlings of Cybertron were vulnerable, even in times of peace. But during the war… they became victims of the conflict. This little one was probably alone for a long time, witnessing things no young life should ever see. "

The hatchling began to stir a little, as if she was having a nightmare. I reached over and took her hand, gently caressing it.

"Shh, calm down. You’re safe now" I whispered, trying to calm her down.

She slowly woke up, her optics looking at me with some confusion.

"What… what is this?" she asked, her little voice was weak but curious.

"It’s a safe place, little one. We’re here to take care of you" Optimus answered, his tone was soft and warm.

She looked around again, still having a hard time accepting that she was out of this dark, cold place. Then, her optics focused on me, and for the first time, I saw a slight spark of trust.

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, with a heartbreaking innocence.

My throat closed up at the sound of her voice, but I smiled and nodded, taking her hand firmly.

“Of course. We’re not leaving you alone anymore.”

Optimus leaned toward her and spoke with the solemnity only he could use.

“You’re with us now. We’ll protect you. That’s my promise.”

•••

The days after the rescue of the little hatchling were a roller coaster of emotions. Ratchet worked too hard on her recovery, and Optimus and I didn't move from her side. While her small body repaired the most serious damage with the help of energon and Ratchet's skills, we took turns talking to her, keeping her calm and reassuring her that everything would be okay.

Sometimes I read human fantasy stories to her, taught her to speak and to know everyday objects. Optimus for his part stayed behind to guard our safety.

"How are you feeling, little one?" I asked her one afternoon while I carried a small container of energon to her.

She took the container in her small hands and looked at us.

"Better..." she murmured, her voice still unsure.

Optimus, standing next to me, leaned towards her.

"You've been very brave. I'm proud of you," he said in a soft, comforting tone.

The hatchling blinked, we noticed that she was not used to receiving words of pride. I walked over and gently stroked her head.

“You know, I think you should have a name. Something you like and that makes you feel special.”

She looked at us, confused at first.

“A name?” she asked, as if it was a new concept for her.

“Yes, a name,” I replied with a smile. “Something that is yours.”

Days passed before she made a decision. She asked us questions about Autobot names, human names, and even my own. Finally, one morning while I was eating breakfast, she pointed at something on a screen. It was a bright star in a picture of the galaxy.

“I want… I want to be called Nova! ” she said cheerfully.

The name suited her perfectly. Nova. A bright spark in the midst of so much darkness.

•••

Over time, life at the base became much more lively with Nova around. Her steps toward normality filled the air with a joy we hadn’t felt in a long time. Optimus and I would spend hours watching her play, either with the humans working at the base or with Bumblebee, who had become her companion for exploration and learning.

One evening, as the evening light cast on the hangar walls, Nova ran after Bee, laughing happily. I stood leaning on the frame of the hangar entrance. I watched as Bee let herself be caught and then jumped up and encouraged her to keep running. It was such a simple scene, but so exciting and sweet.

Suddenly, I felt something familiar behind me. Optimus’s large hands gently encircled me as he adjusted his size with his massive displacement to not appear so imposing. His metal arms were firm but comforting, and his presence made me relax more.

“It’s beautiful to see her like this, isn’t it?” he murmured, always managing to calm any intrusive thoughts in my mind.

I nodded, leaning against his metal chest.

“Yes, it is. It’s been so long since I saw something so joyful. Nova brought light to the hangar, Optimus.”

He was silent for a few seconds, as if he was gathering the right words. Then, he spoke.

“Remember that time we talked about having children?” he asked.

My lips turned into a smile as I turned slightly to look at him. Of course I remembered. We had had that conversation during one of the few quiet nights amidst the chaos of war.

“I remember, yes,” I replied, looking into his blue optics that reflected love.

“We can’t create a life together, not the way humans or even Cybertronians do. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be parents.”

I fell silent, trying to process what he had just said.

“Are you saying that… you want to adopt Nova?” I asked incredulously.

Optimus nodded slowly.

"She already sees us as important figures in her life. I don't want it to be just a temporary bond. I want Nova to know that we are her family, now and always."

The lump that formed in my throat was hard to ignore. I turned completely to look him in the eyes.

I bit my lip as tears filled my eyes. I couldn't help but get emotional hearing his words.

"Yes "I whispered, I had broken down.

Optimus rested his forehead against mine, a gesture of intimacy, affection and connection.

He wiped my tears.

"Then it will be like this. She will be our daughter. Nova is a spark of hope. And I want that hope to grow with us."

I looked at his optics again, my heart beating faster than normal. I think it was time to tell him.

"Optimus... "I continued, my voice sounding a little shaky.

He gave me a worried and attentive look.

"What's wrong?"

I let out a slight nervous laugh and squeezed his hand a little.

“I thought about what you said, about not being able to create life together. And it’s true, humans and Cybertronians can’t have biological children. But…”

He cocked his head, clearly intrigued.

“But what?”

I took a deep breath until I found the courage to tell him,

I took a deep breath until I found the courage to tell him,

“I guess Nova won’t be our only child,” I said with a slight smile.

The silence that followed was palpable, but not awkward. Optimus tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed on me as he processed my words.

“Let’s just say… the surprises don’t stop with Nova,” I commented.

Optimus remained silent for a few moments, his optics lighting up with a mix of wonder and something that seemed to be hope. Before he could respond, a joyful shout from Nova broke the moment, drawing our attention.

“Mom! Dad! Look how fast I can run!” she shouted, turning to greet us with a wave of excitement.

Optimus and I exchanged a glance, and though our words remained unfinished, we both knew that the future held something unexpected, something that would change our lives again.

[sandmunch]

could u write fluff with min-su where he's ashamed 2 b crying but also desperate for comfort plz

Min-su fluff!!

warnings: none

not proofread…

i hope this is what u had in mind!!

——————————————

Min-su sat hunched against the cold, metal wall of his bunk, his knees drawn up to his chest. His hands trembled as they curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. The overhead lights, casting long, eerie shadows over the rows of bunks. Around him, exhausted players lay in uneasy sleep, their breathing ragged, their bodies curled in on themselves like they were trying to disappear.

But Min-su couldn’t sleep.

His mind replayed the game over and over, like a cruel film on a loop. The sound of screams still echoed in his ears, the weight of it pressing down on his chest. He could still feel the stickiness of blood on his hands, even though he had scrubbed them raw at the sink.

A shaky breath slipped from his lips, and he clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to cry. Crying was weakness. Weakness got you killed here. He had learned that on the very first day.

And yet, despite everything, despite the sheer force of will he tried to summon, his eyes burned, his throat tightening. His chest ached in that awful, familiar way that always came before the tears.

He bit his lip, turning his head toward the wall, willing himself to stay silent. Maybe if he just sat still enough, if he just breathed through it, the feeling would go away.

But then he felt it.

A touch, soft, hesitant, on his arm.

He flinched at first, instinct screaming at him to pull away, but then your voice came, quiet and warm, threading through the icy fog in his head.

“Min-su,” you whispered. Just his name. Nothing more.

It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t some meaningless reassurance, like the ones people gave when they didn’t understand. It was just, acknowledgment. A quiet reminder that he wasn’t alone.

Min-su squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders shaking.

“I—I shouldn’t…” His voice cracked, rough and uneven. He hated how weak he sounded. He hated how much he wanted, no, needed, this.

You hesitated for only a moment before shifting closer, letting your warmth press against his side.

“Who says?” you murmured, voice barely above a breath.

His throat tightened. He shook his head, breath hitching. “Crying won’t change anything.”

You sighed softly, resting your head against his shoulder. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean you have to hold it in.”

Something inside him twisted painfully, like an old wound being exposed to open air. He had spent so long pretending to be fine, forcing himself to keep moving, keep surviving, even when it felt like he was crumbling from the inside out.

But right now, in this moment, with you beside him, he couldn’t keep pretending.

A choked sound slipped from his lips before he could stop it, and suddenly, he was gripping your sleeve like a lifeline. His body shook, silent sobs wracking his frame as he buried his face in his arms, as if that could hide the broken pieces of himself spilling out.

But you didn’t pull away.

You stayed.

One hand came up to thread through his hair, the other rubbing slow, steady circles against his back. The warmth of your touch seeped through the layer he had built around himself, melting something deep inside his chest.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered.

He clung to those words like they were the only thing keeping him afloat.

Min-su didn’t know how long you sat there with him, holding him through the storm. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. But for the first time in what felt like forever, the crushing weight on his chest felt just a little lighter.

Just for a little while.

Just enough to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

——————————————

my first time writing for Min-su :3

[overflowingteacupoflove]

Tid-bits ✎ this series includes mature content such as sensitive topics,substance abuse, sex, angst, and more. Read with that in mind.

Chapter 1 ✎ Pool House.

"You're just too much." Is the last thing your ex-boyfriend said before you're off, stumbling through the crowds of party goers, Sorority girls in short dresses, frat guys in snapbacks, random kids in bright clothes that hurt your eyes. The entire crowd smells like sweat and achohol, concoctions mixed in red solo cups, sloshing liquid out onto the grass. The smell of it burns your nose. You stumble into someone and their drink spills on the front of your dress, whatever it's old anyway and you don't even like dresses so you shouldn't really care.

"You're just too much." Is the only thing that plays in your head when you smack into the door of a small shed. When you open it you're hit with the scent of chlorine, mildew, and plastic. You tiptoe through the shed, through buckets filled with pool toys, towels that stink of mildew, and pool noodles thrown about on the floor. Almost slamming your head into the wall stepping on a pool noodle, the styrofoam of the neon green floating help, crunching and sliding out from under your sneakered feet, you gasp as you steady yourself.

"Fuck." You groan, sitting down on a threadbare couch. Tears are slipping down your face, slow and then faster until you can't stop them or wipe them away. Gosh you swear to yourself that you're never going to date again. "Too much? I'm not too much." You grumble to yourself. The sound of music is blasting "Bourgeoisieses" by Conan Gray playing from the cheap speakers you're sure some frat brother got from the Walmart 3 years ago because its mostly staticy. It drowns out your words.

The music gets louder and a flood of light comes in from the door as someone shoulders it open and in comes a fratboy, red snapback on his head and an oversized red and gray jersey looking shirt on his torso. He looks seriously confused when he turns around to see you, teary-eyed, snot dripping down your face, harsh breathes forcing through your lungs.

"Oh-shit I didnt know that someone- that you- I didnt know anyone was in here. I thought it was a bathroom" He says gently, like you're a wounded animal who you need to be gentle with or they'll lunge.

"I-I-Its's fi-fine." You stutter through sobs and gasps, wiping at your face with your hands. They get sticky from the snot and tears drying on your palm in the creases as you fist up your hand. The boy looks concerned, his eyebrows drawn together and a soft frown on his lips.

"You okay? You don't...I mean I don't mean to sound rude but you don't look okay." He says rather gently as he's tiptoeing around the clutter on the floor to get to you. He reaches you and barely puts his hand on your shoulder before you're hunched over and throwing up, all over his airforces. "Oh, okay. Okay, yep- uh-huh, let it all out." He grimaces, patting the back of your head as you sputter and cough, spitting off to the side. "I think its time to go back to your dorm, yeah? No more drinks, party girl."

"Did I throw up on y'shoes? m'sorry, dude. I'll- uhhh- buy ya new ones." You slur sitting up and wiping the back off your mouth with your sleeve. "Also I think I jus' pissed myself. Jus' a lil bit."

"Yeah well that's what happens when you throw up. Vomiting creates sudden stress on the opening of the bladder, leading to leakage." He explains while hauling you up to your feet and hooking an arm around your waist.

"Nerd." You huff as you lean on him, head on his shoulder. "Doctor in training." He corrects as he walks, and you stumble along beside him, out of the Pool House.

"But you're a fratboy?"

"That I am." He nods, stopping to mumble something to a friend of his before continuing to walk, practically dragging you now. "That sounds illegal." That makes him laugh and you smile at the small victory. "It's not, party girl. Trust me."

You walk in silence for a while until he reaches his car and helps you into the front seat, buckling you up, and making sure you don't fall over, before closing the door and getting into the driver's seat. "Did you see me crying?" "Which dorm do you live in?" Your words overlap eachother and there's a bit of an awkward silence as you tell him which dorm house you live in and wait for the response to your question.

"Yeah, I did. What was it about?" You flush in embarrassment because this random doctor in training, fratboy, Jeep driver has seen you cry, throw up, and maybe pee yourself a little all in one night and you don't even know his name. "I don't wanna talk about it." You mumble, rubbing the tip of your nose with the knuckle of your finger.

"That's fine. I'm Chris by the way." Chris smiles at you before turning his gaze back to his phone to pull up the GPS and then start the car. "Y/N."

"Cool name, party girl." You smile softly, "Thanks."

You're back at your dorm, the car ride was mostly silent, random music playing low on the radio. You felt to awkward to try and say anything so you didn't, sitting with your hands wrung together or tugging at a loose string on your dress. Chris got you out of the car with some difficulty because your dress got caught on the arm rest of the seat and you tried to fix it yourself but only got yourself more tangled up. He had to hook an arm around your shoulder to hold you still while he fixed it Chris got it unhooked with a simple "See?" as he pulled it off the arm rest.

"We should take the stairs, it's way faster." You explain as you walk without Chris and only with minor difficulty because you're rather sobered up from the activities of the night. He shakes his head but follows anyway only to watch you take one step up the stairs and fall flat on your face. He winces and hauls you back up,checking for any injuries of anything, and then drags you to go take the elevator.

Once in your room he helps take off your shoes and get you into bed. "Hey, wait, wait. I needa get your number so I can buy you those shoes." You protest, grabbing Chris's arm, as he turns around. He turns back around with his brows furrowed and a frown gracing his lips. "You dont need to, I have more shoes." He reassures and pats your hand.

"Just give me your number, doctor fratboy." You sigh and reach around for your phone in the bag that's been thrown on the bed. He huff out a laugh at the nickname and types his number into your phone before handing it back to you. Chris watches as you giggle and type something, before closing your phone and letting go of his arm.

"Okay well text me in the morning, just a check up y'know. I'l talk to you later, party girl." You nod at his words before rolling over onto your side and closing your eyes. Chris, rubs your shoulder before he's reaching into his pocket and pulling out a granola bar, he's always prepared, and maybe he wanted a little snack, but he thinks you're going to need the snack more than he does.

He pulls the covers up over you and goes to the bathroom to place a trashcan by your bed, just incase. Then he leaves, turning off all the lights, except for the lamp by your bed, and closes the door behind him.

Lo's post-writing clarity-wagging my tail rn

[sulfies]

If I Lead (pt 4)

Part 3 here

Ezio wanted a warm bath, a good wine and a soft bed… then maybe a visit from a courtesan once he was rested.

His ass was hurting from the long horseback ride from Venice to Monterriggioni but he was glad to be back home. 

Things were not done with the thieves yet and Rosa still had a few more tricks she wanted to teach him, but he had to visit home every now and then to ease Claudia's worries and top up the funds the village needed.

He had found some more riches hidden around while looking for more of those discs that went into the sanctuary. So far he had two counting the one on him.

He rode his horse through the market street nodding and throwing small pleasantries to the people trying to gain his attention. It felt weird to come back sometimes and… be known by many after months of hiding in crowds, not drawing any attention. 

But he did miss being able to just walk openly and not worry if the guards were going to come after him.

He looked around the buildings as he passed them by. More people were coming into the town each day and Monterrigioni was finding his footing once more. From what Claudia has yelled about to him, Mario had messed up the finances of the village in a way that should not have been possible.

Thank god one of them took their father's banker genes…

He rolled his shoulders and came closer to the stairs leading to the villa. Mercenaries were doing their regular stuff. Some in the ring that stood in the middle and some were scattered around the clearing on the upper sides. 

He would check the barracks tomorrow, he had ordered it to be fixed before he left and he hoped they had actually listened to him or he was going to send their half of this month's wages into the repairs of the church.

He hopped down from his horse giving the reins to the stablehand nearby who was waiting for him.

“Welcome back, Ser Ezio, hope the road treated you well.”

He hummed in response, the road was always the same. He had to deal with some bandits but they were far enough from Monteriggioni. Still, maybe he would talk to the mercenaries later about them expanding their patrol zones. The last thing they needed was for the traders to get discouraged from coming in due to the roads.

He started climbing the stairs, the nearby soldiers said their welcome as he passed by and he waved his hand to them out of courtesy and not much else.

Bed, wine and bed… then he would act like a civilized human to the people.

He walked in through the doors of his home as Claudia was making his way down the stairs.

“It's good to see you back Ezio”

“Claudia” Ezio walked to his sister with open arms.

Claudia made a face as she was drawn into his arms “Can't you wait till you wash this disgusting smell out of you first.” yet put up no real fight to get out of the embrace.

Ezio laughed and let her go. “Shame that you would insult your dear brother, you wound me with your harsh words, Claudia.”

“Mhm, I'll take pity once you smell like a human being again. Go now, the maids have already prepared a bath for you, we will catch up after, with dinner.”

Ezio smiled and climbed the stairs with a spring in his step. He had missed home and its luxuries.

Opening the door to his room he sighed blissfully once his eyes landed on the tub. He couldn't get the armour off him faster.

Once his limbs hit the warm water his muscles melted their aches like butter. Looking at the stool nearby he saw a goblet filled with wine sitting pretty for him and his smile widened. 

“It's the simple things really…”

He grabbed his cup and just sat in the tub as he sipped it, savouring every drop. 

He spent longer than he usually did, the water was almost lukewarm when he decided to start washing himself fully.

What he wouldn't give for a massage right this very moment… 

By the time he got out of the tub, the water was on its way to become cold. He dried himself off and put on his fresh clothes. 

Also laid out on his bed for ease; he could kiss the maids.

He put on his bracers and made his way down to his sister’s office, a small chest filled with their new funds by his side.

“Do I have the permission to enter the premises, my lady?” he mocked with two taps on the doorframe, drawing Claudia's attention from the papers on her desk.

“Since I didn't smell you coming in… yes, you do.”

Ezio walked to the desk dropping the chest on it slowly, Claudia's eyes sparkled as she got up to open it up. 

Eyeing the coins inside she smiled back at him.

“Good work, brother! Do you know how much is inside?”

Ezio shook his head “No, that's your job” and received a pout for his answer. 

“One day your face is going to get stuck like that”

“And I'll blame you for it ’till you die.”

He drew her in for another hug, a longer one and this time Claudia was happy to return it fully.

“How is Madre…” He felt Claudia's shoulders rise in a sigh. “Same as always, but she eats and drinks. Some days I can get her to walk around the garden, which is something, but still not a word has fallen from her lips.”

Ezip nodded and planted a small kiss into his sister's hair as he let her go. “I'll go check up on her after dinner, got some more feathers for her.”

“That would be nice, somedays I find her in front of the box gazing… at least it is a reaction of some kind”

“Indeed.”

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

The dinner passed with laughter and the latest gossip from both sides, what Ezio did, how the town fared while he was gone…

“The repairs on the barracks are almost complete”

“That's good, I was thinking about getting the church fixed next.”

Claudia smiled. “Venice has changed you huh…” Ezio laughed. “It's not that. Truthfully, I could not care less about it, but since the brothel and the barracks, I fear if I don't actually fix it soon people are going to get annoyed.”

“Glad to see you use your head for once.” Ezio rolled his eyes at the comment. “But yes that would put some people at ease, maybe draw some more people in. The shops have been faring well, but there are still many empty ones.”

“The market looked pretty full to me…”

“That's because everyone knew you were on your way, some of our merchants have been sending their better wares away to bigger cities via traders.”

Ezio raised an eyebrow “You want me to do a little bit of inspection don't you…”

“Yes, go around and show yourself so they have a reason to not hide them”

She took a bite from her meal. “And maybe stay longer than a week this time hm? I know you have much to do back in Venice, but as a young woman I can only throw my weight around so much in this place Ezio”

Ezio scoffed, “You basically run this town better than I would, all the bookings are done by you.” 

“I do run it better than you, I'm not saying I don't. I am saying that annoying people like the mercenaries and the merchants respond better to an authority they fear…Which would be, you.”

“So you want me on guard dog duty.” 

“Yes, I'm sure Venice can handle a couple of weeks without their local vigilante.”

“Whatever you say, my liege.”

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

After dinner, Ezio visited his mother's chambers. 

As Claudia had said she didn't look any better… but she didn't look any worse, either.

He walked in with soft steps and his shoulders down. She felt like a scared feral animal some days, if he moved quickly she might try to fly in fright.

She was sitting by her bedside chair facing the balcony watching the sky, hands still in a prayer.

“Madre, I'm back” He didn't really wait for a reply, used to the silence by now but it still hurt his heart.

He came close to her side and kneeled by her, placing his hand on top of hers.

“I'm not done yet in Venice… don't know when I will be but thought it was time I came back for a visit. Claudia thinks I should stay for a while.” 

Smiling up at her sadly he continued “I think she is tricking me into taking a break”

He stood by her side for a while embracing the silence. 

“I brought you some more feathers, Claudia let me know that sometimes you look at the box. Glad to know you enjoy them.” 

He leaned down and kissed her hands, his thumb rubbed over the back of them. 

“I'll bring even more the next time, hm?”

He got up and walked over to the box. Eyes still stuck on her form he placed the white feathers in it and locked the box after.

“I'll come again tomorrow, Madre…”

He walked out of the room with the same silent steps. 

It hurt a lot.

Each time he went to see her he had a small hope that it would be different but he left with grief filling his heart each time.

It was weird, could you still feel grief over someone who was still alive? 

If not, he didn't know what else to name the hurt he felt beneath his lungs.

He made his way to his room again, the sun had just started setting down and the weight of the road was pulling him to bed.

He walked into his room and faceplanted onto the sheets, throwing his boots to the side and unlacing his hose halfway. Too lazy to change his clothes, he was clean anyway.

Closing his eyes he welcomed the wave of sleep that washed over him….

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

When he woke up the next day the sun was up quite high, he overslept. The road had taken out of him more than he had anticipated.

Maybe Claudia was right, some downtime would do him good.

He cleaned himself up with a fresh set of clothes, putting only bracers on from his daily uniform. He would get the maids to wash that today as well, tho he knew his enjoyment of his clean capes would only last half a week.

Making his way downstairs he stretched his arms above his head and yawned. He could probably sleep a bit more if he stayed in the bed but Claudia would give him a face about it.

Stopping by her door again he knocked twice on the frame. “Buongiorno!”

Claudia looked up to him, her desk had some coins lying around it and the chest he brought yesterday was open on her side. 

“It's almost mid-day… but good morning to you too”

Ezio smiled fondly “So, did I bring enough back or do I need to make another trip…”

“I haven't been able to go through all of it but… Yes, we will be cushioned for a while.”

She looked back at her pages to check the numbers.

“There will be a lot of leftovers even after the repairs which is a nice safety net.”

“Good to hear.” Ezio watched his sister focus back on her work again and took it as a cue for him to get going.

“I am going to go down and see how the barracks are coming along. Then maybe visit the blacksmith. Lost some daggers here and there that I want to replace.”

Claudia just hummed in response and waved her quill without lifting his eyes away from her desk.

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

Once out of the Villa, Ezio gazed down at the town. Feeling the sun hit his face was a rare luxury he got to enjoy only here. 

At the top of the stairs, he just watched the people go about their day for a bit. Things were coming along, he noticed yesterday but now with his full attention, he realized Claudia had repaired some more buildings outside of the main street. Some houses were still getting work done with workers outside. 

He noticed some more ropes going in between the buildings as well. He chuckled, that was nice of her to do…

He made his way down into the street, nodding at the pleasantries people threw his way, stopping now and then to hear people's troubles. 

They were mostly crying about leaking roofs and general upkeep troubles.

He took the street that led to the barracks.

The renovation was still going on but from what he could see they were almost done with maybe a month or so of work left to do.

He walked into the building, most of the chatter stopped for a beat and then continued but he could feel the side glances coming his way.

He paid no mind and went further in, towards the back room. He could hear Mario’s voice boom even through the closed doors.

So that's where his uncle was… with each step the mumblings of Mario’s voice got more clear.

“...I said I would try to talk about a raise but don't push my hand Marsillio. You and I both know I take the defence of this place very se-”

“What's this talk about a raise?”

Mario turned around to face Ezio standing by the open door.

“Ezio! How swell is it to see you” His frown chanced the moment his eyes landed on his nephew.

Approaching him, Mario clasped his forearm in a greeting and patted his back strongly. A big smile was plastered on his face. “I missed you coming back yesterday.”

“Don't worry about it Zio, I went to bed pretty early.” He nodded back in sympathy then looked back at the other person. “Now, what were you guys just talking about?” He tried to keep his tone even.

“Nothing for you to worry about yet, Nipote.” Ezio raised an eyebrow and kept looking at the other mercenary who was doing his best to not avert his eyes. 

“We…were just talking to Ser Mario about additional budgeting for the upkeep of our weapons.”

Ah… still after their old payout before he got his hands on the ledger and let his sister make some cuts. 

“Why? Don't your men know how to polish their own swords?”

Marsillio smiled sheepishly “They do but you can only polish a dull sword so many times before It will break, sir.”

“Well, are any of them broken?”

“No… not yet but would you rather them break in the heat of the battle and leave our men defenseless?”

Ezio put a hand on his hip. “If Monteriggioni ever has to go into battle, I assure you no funds will be spared for its aid.”

Before the other could get a word in he continued. “I have already factored in the upkeep of your armoury into the budget you were dealt for this year. You will make do with what you are given till I see a reason to allocate more with my own eyes.”

Marsilio looked like he was trying very hard to keep his face straight, Ezio found it quite funny. Answering to a younger man, when you used to be able to get what you wanted with ease would put a chip on any man's shoulder.

He crossed his arms with a smug look he couldn't hide “Well, now that we all have agreed on the budget problem… I had actually come here for a different reason.”

Mario looked at him with slight worry, Ezio shot him a smile to calm his nerves “Nothing pressing or such but I’d like the outside patrols to expand their search area.”

“We already cover plenty of grounds, Ser Ezio. My men have yet to find even tracks of passing bandits.” Marsillio retaliated.

“Then they won't mind having to go a bit further on their search to keep the good people of our town safe, hm?” 

He stared at him for a while, seeing the other man's conviction crumble by the second, he clearly wanted to argue against it.

“As.. as you wish sir.”

Really, this was starting to bore him.

Paying these guys for them to complain like young maidens who didn't get enough pocket money for their dresses… but Monteriggioni needed its defences and this was the best they got thanks to Mario, bless his heart.

“That's good to hear, I'm sure the citizens of Monteriggioni will be thankful for your services.” He turned his attention to Mario “It is lovely to see you again Uncle Mario, I’ll try to visit your office later today.”

Mario gave him his signature grin and clasped his shoulder, shaking him with it. “Yes of course! I wanted to hear about your latest doings anyway.”

Ezio gave a nod and left the room. Feeling the pointed stares of others behind his back as he crossed the main room. He knew the mercenaries were not too happy to see him back. 

No one would be happy to see their boss back.

He stepped outside of the building, letting himself breathe a bit. He rolled his shoulders to ease his tension… this was such a chore but Claudia was right, these types of men only responded to an authority they feared.

“Once again hiding to the side Domenico? You have been at these swords for three days now…”

A man talked out of the corner of his eye. He was leaning over against the railing that surraunded the Stable. The mention of swords caught his attention.

“Come on, take a break and join me for at least a cup.”

Another man, older than the one who just talked, was inside the open area of the stable with a pile of swords next to him. Sharpening the one in his hand on the whetstone on his lap.

“I told you, I don't like drinking during the day…” “Then come play dice!”

The man sighed. “Don't sigh at me, I am your senior and I order you to come inside. I have yet to see you rest after today's rounds.”

“Angelo, I am resting. See, this is me sitting… which means I am resting”

The older man raised his head to give a look of disappointment to Angelo when his eyes met with Ezio for a second then quickly went back to the other man.

“Yea sure, and laying with your wife is called falling asleep” 

“Angelo!”

The man raised his arms in a sheepish defence “I'm joking, I'm joking...” With an impatient huff, he pointed his fingers at Domenico. “Don’t look at me like that, I'll leave you to your rest, but you are ordered to come to the tavern with us tonight. No excuses!”

Ezio chuckled to himself quietly and started walking towards the market, leaving the two men to their bickering. Unlike what Marsilio said, the swords looked fine after all.

[turtledork02]

hi! i have several questions i wanna ask

are optimus and ratchet robot husbands??? i know that's pretty popular with the general transformers public

who's in the government that's keeping an eye on team prime? you said that this au is gonna be inspired off prime and animated, does that mean agent fowler is gonna show up? or that detective guy from animated??

also! what are the relationships like between the members of team prime? do ratchet and wheeljack get on each other's nerves?? not a smart move revealing yourself to the humans jack

and i assume starscream is still trying to take over the deceptions. never gonna win screamy ... never gonna win ... also love the design! he's so scrungly and looks like he needs years worth of therapy 😆😅

sorry for the long ask 😣

Hi anon!! Don’t apologize for the long question, I’m so happy to get them!!

As for your first question, yes, Ratchet and Optimus are old (not so secret) husbands!

The two were sparkbonded in secret just before the war. When Optimus became a Prime, he was no longer allowed things like selfishness. The act of sparkbonding as a Prime is considered a disgrace, so the two kept it secret through the entire war. (Now on earth, they still have not told anyone, but literally everyone on Team Prime can tell and just chooses not to say anything.)

Director Fowler oversees the Autobots’ operations, though he is mostly behind the scenes. The official (by the time of “canon”) liaison for the Autobots is actually Rafael! In my AU, he has been friends of the Autobots since he was a kid. He hacked into government files when he was young, accidentally finding out about them. He managed to convince everyone to let him work with them, long story short, and has grown up with them! He’s about twenty in my AU.

Team Prime, while most of them won’t say it out loud, consider each other family. Bumblebee is the youngest, and is basically the little brother to the group. (Also canonically Optimus’ adopted son.) He and First Aid are besties. First Aid is like the calm and collected older cousin of the group. They’re not only able to patch up physical wounds, but is great at talking sense into everyone and mending emotional problems as well. Wheeljack is the goofy but cool uncle of the function. He gets along pretty well with the other bots! He’s only a little anxious around First Aid, since he almost blew them up once. Arcee is actually more of the problematic one. She’s a bit hotheaded, while closed off at the same time. Her and Ratchet butt heads pretty often. Ratchet is pretty snappy and moody to everyone, but he truly does care about all of them deeply.

And yes, Starscream is plotting to overthrow Megatron someday. Just don’t tell anyone. That doesn’t already know. Most already know.

Just don’t tell anyone.

[mybelovedsylus]

Okay so I just wanted to write some fluffy fluff. I didn't proofread in the slightest so please forgive me. And if you enjoy it and want to stick around I would love to have ya - also feel free to message me any little ideas you'd like to see. I'm still newer to the game so pardon anything that doesn't feel true to the lore- I'm still playing through it all. I'm sure there will be more drabbles to come. Lastly, the more is just covering a poll I was physically unable to remove via my iPad so pls ignore that. Okay now enjoy.

~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~~~~~~~☆~~~

He was pissed. No pissed wasn’t even a word that could fully encompass the emotional turmoil raging through his veins. His fists clenched and unclenched over and over again, his evol pulsing in time with it. The excess energy was just ratcheting higher as the moments passed and the front door remained firmly shut. You were supposed to be back from the mission over two hours ago, and somehow you had also lost the tail he assigned to you. As the thought filtered through his mind he looked sharply to the left to throw a glare at Mephisto. What was the point of him if he couldn’t handle the most important mission he was assigned? In fact he was contemplating all the slow, painful ways that he could deconstruct said crow the door slammed open. His head whipped around to catch you stumbling through the door, and he was out of the seat in an instant. Times like this the evol came in handy as he was suddenly by your side, slipping his arms under you and hoisting you into a bridal carry.

“Why do you insist on testing Mephisto?”

“I come back black and blue and you’re more concerned with the surveillance experiment you call a pet,” you groan out, arms holding your middle. You swear at the sign of your discomfort Sylus’ own arms tighten to hold you closer to his body. You can also feel the cool caress of his evol as it slowly takes inventory around your body.

“I figure you would worry more if I started with the obvious concern about you,” he responded in a gruff whisper. Suddenly you wanted to lean into the nickname you were given, and curl up further into the warmth his body was giving off. He rewarded you with his plush mattress, but then tortured you pulling your legs out so you were laying flat on your back.

“What kind of sadist are you?”

“Usually you love it when I get you on your back,” he managed a slightly seductive tone on top of the obvious concern bleeding through. You groaned at that, attempting to roll away from him and burrow into the safe haven of the covers. Sylus simply tsk’d at you, dragging you back to the edge of the bed.

“Not so fast kitten, there are clearly some things that need to be addressed before I allow you the reprieve of sleep.”

“Fine, just get it over with,” you mutter, throwing your arm over your eyes to block out even the muted bit of light coming through. You can hear the soft laugh Sylus lets out at your dramatics. However, not looking meant there was no preparation for the sting of antiseptic in open wounds. My eyes flew open and I sat up quickly, a hairsbreadth away from hitting Sylus in the nose with my forehead.

“Holy fuck, warning?” You gasped out debating how far you would get with slapping the shit out of him- or at least slapping the smirk off his face.

“You told me to get it over with, figured I wouldn’t bore you with the details darling,” he responded with an overly innocent grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. He brushed some of the hair of your forehead gently, and he pulled at the skin underneath assessing the cut that was dripping blood into your brow. That was quick to cause his smile to falter quickly, concern etching into the wrinkles forming along his forehead.

“You know you could have had backup if you wouldn’t be so adamant on shaking the crow,” he tells her, moving to clean the wound and place small bandaids to hold the cut together. The proximity to him dulled the sting. As he worked, she got to take in Sylus up close, the way he bit his lip as he focused, the way his eyes softened as he moved more hair out of your eyes, and how his eyes seemed to glow (without help of the aether) as his gaze dropped to hers. There was a hesitation, his hands coming up to cup your face before he leaned down and stole a quick, soft kiss. He pulled back slowly before leaning back in, a bruising kiss this time as his hand moved to tangle in your hair. His hand grazed against a lump forming on the back of your skull and you groaned.

“Right, not the time. You’ve just had me worried sick all night love.”

“But I got your intel,” I smiled sweetly at him, pulling him in for another kiss. Much softer than the one he stole just now, one that reassured him that I was right here, worse for wear but still here.

“It's a good thing I already have white hair.”

[worfs-glorious-hair]

A kiss in the dark

Braver than we are – musings about the lovers who think they can never be together and the dark who welcomes them to let their demons finally go

Gale x Tav/ Reader; some act 1 (post weave-scene and confession) angst in the Underdark; hurt/ comfort (kinda?), canon typical themes (Gale’s orb, mentions of Mystra, Gale ponders about mortality, selfishness and taking chances… Tav and Gale reflect about their moment in the weave, POV change), mutual pining, the love is requited but hopeless (or so they think) SFW

Unnamed Paladin!Tav (they/them), could also be read as Cleric!Tav if you look away at the mention of an oath

The water is of an unsettling, deep, deep black and there are barely any sounds besides the soft thump of the tiniest of waves at the vessel’s side as it glides through the smooth darkness.

Everything is dark. The blackest black. Only the torches on the ship create a bubble of light around them and there is the occasional glowing mushroom in the distance on the shore but it’s passing by quickly, soon the light becomes a memory.

Though the dark is oddly comforting, it’s velvety soft and gives Tav a chance to let their face drop. Gives them a chance to think…

To feel.

About the past days in the Underdark, about the wonders and the horrors they have seen there. Done there.

And the times – can it already be weeks since the nautiloid crashed –before that.

The party. The saved Tieflings. Gale teaching them his way of casting magic. The closeness to him, how Tav had felt all of him, just him, through the weave, had felt his soul close to theirs.

And how they had craved more. So much more.

Tav’s eyes had drifted to his lips, lightly parted and had wanted to do nothing but to devour him. Taste him. Feel him.

They had wondered what it would be like to gently take his face into their hands, to feel his beard under their fingers and leaning in – closer and closer

And to finally kiss him, slowly and tenderly, taking all the time in the world to get to know him by touch and taste alone…

And they would explore and taste and feel him until slow and tender would not be enough anymore, how the heat inside would grow and their lips on his would want even more. Would want everything…

And Tav had felt Gale’s surprise in their soul, a sudden anxiety, a sudden and desperate fear, but not for them or about the images their mind had produced, no, there was joy in him about them.

But still he had pulled away, mind clouded with uncertainty, Tav could feel defeat before the connection and the weave had slipped away from the two of them. Leaving the night cold and lonely.

Still, through all of their shared confusion and embarrassment had Gale’s eyes burned into theirs as he had wished them a good night and Tav had wished to just stay there. To always stay here in the moment with Gale’s intense gaze on them.

But they couldn’t. So instead they had taken the memory, no, the fantasy of Gale’s lips and love into their dreams.

And spent the days, all the moments after this evening, being unable to turn their eyes away from him.

Protected him with sword and spell in battle. Treated his wounds, let their sacred, healing light flow through them to him as they put their hands on his side, his shoulders, arms or hands – anything they could reach during battle. Anything to give him more strength, to ease the pains of wounds, fresh and old.

And after battle wished Tav more than anything that they could kiss his pain away or at least that they could let their hands linger on his body for longer than it was necessary for their soothing, healing magic to work.

And Gale, well, he rewarded each tiny touch, each killed foe that Tav kept from attacking him with his burning eyes on them.

And Tav held his gaze. Held it and wanted to drown in it.

And by fate’s grace or mere coincidence was Gale usually close to them, without even noticing how they had moved were the two of them close. Almost touching-close. Knuckles brushing over knuckles-close. Even with gloves on.

And as if Gale had heard Tav’s thoughts was he suddenly standing next to them on the duergar’s ship by its helm now.

The warm, amber lights of the torch’s fire next to him flickered over his face, creating deep shadows and gilded skin and he looked at Tav as they smiled at him in greeting.

His voice was low when he began to speak, not wanting to interrupt the silence around them.

“This darkness”, he began. “It is oddly comforting, don’t you think? It invites us to let our monsters go and hide in it from us – it invites us to be free of them for one precious moment… Oh what wonders, what monstrosities are probably lurking in the darkness just beneath us, all the demons that were cast out by adventurers who sailed these seas before us…”, he muses and Tav looks at him, trying to follow his train of thought and not get lost in it. In the sound of his voice. In his eyes.

“The darkness, it protects us, from the monsters below, from the demons inside of us…”, he continues and makes a step closer to Tav.

“It can make us even braver than we are if we allow it…”, he leans in closer and Tav meets him halfway, welcomes him into their space, lets a gloved hand gently run over his bare one.

Their faces are only centimetres apart, as he cradles their face with his free hand, pulls them even closer towards him.

“Let the darkness be my witness that I am a free man just this once”, he murmurs, lips brushing against Tav’s with every syllable but it is Tav who is eventually the one to close the remaining distance between them.

Their kiss, their lips are hard and desperate, both of them know that this is perhaps the only chance they will ever get to taste each other. Hold each other. Be together.

How are the odds to survive even the next day for him when the last item he had consumed has not quelled the orb’s hunger, has not been enough.

And if he is doomed, if the consequences of his foolish actions have finally, truly caught up with him, well, then he wants to be selfish for one last time.

The last wish of a dead man walking.

Tav. Just Tav.

One moment would be enough, just one moment with them in his arms. His selfish, desperate arms.

Tav is so alive and warm under Gale’s fingers and their lips on his are hungry. Just as hungry as he is.

Hungrier than the images that had haunted him since the moment he had shared with them, the moment connected by the weave. Tav’s kiss, Tav’s lips. Tender and gentle. Loving. Vulnerable and true in their passion.

He had wanted to kiss them, had wanted to give Tav what they had imagined. He wanted to give them everything, everything they desired, everything they wished for.

But this is all they will ever have, all they will ever share. A desperate, hungry kiss in the dark.

His hand on Tav’s cheeks still holds them, still pulls them towards him. Closer, closer.

Tav is everywhere around him, a lingering scent of oiled leather and metal and their precious sacred magic, so strange, so foreign and so kind to him. It tastes like lavender and the air in spring. It tastes like belonging.

He grips their hand in his tighter. If he could only stay like this forever. Forever in the dark. With the monsters outside. And braver than he was.

But he couldn’t, not when his lungs screamed for air, not when he felt the orb stir and twitch in his chest. Feeling it’s ink black tendrils creeping around his heart and soul.

The darkness’ protection had only been a dream after all, the demon was still inside of him. He was still the monster. Still the dead man walking.

So he let Tav go, let their lips on his go but still held their face gently in his hand. Unwilling to sever the last connection.

If only a moment would last a lifetime. Then just one moment would be enough.

Tav looked at him while they caught their breath and smiled, though their eyes were heavy with unspoken understanding. Unspoken yearning.

Mirroring his own.

But Tav didn’t let go of him either, their hand that had found the nape of Gale’s neck during the kiss, still rested there, a reassuring weight, another remaining connection between them.

“Gale”, Tav whispered into the night, into his heart, their voice laced with the unspoken words neither of them dared to say out loud. But they rested in the way Tav whispered his name, how they looked at him. How they kept him close. Just as unwilling to part from him as he was to part from them, also unwilling to let him go.

Say my name again like this and I will throw all caution to the wind, he thought. Look at me like this and I… yes, what would he do? Everything. He would do everything. Would even beg Mystra for forgiveness if it would cure his orb for a chance to live with Tav. But this was absurd. Why would she forgive him now when she hasn’t done it before when he had screamed and begged and prayed for her mercy.

What else could Gale offer to Tav then, his life, his death? His magic, his heart? Tav held all of this already in their hands and would keep it until the very end. His end. When he could not keep the orb stable anymore.

So of what worth was a dead man walking then, a dead man torn apart from hubris and a wizard’s greed?

But Tav still looked at him like that, happy and dizzy and in awe, why do you keep your hand on my neck and why do you still cradle my hand in yours?

I don’t deserve your attention, your love, but I crave it. I crave it more than anything, so please, Tav, look at me like that for forever and I am yours. I will always be yours. Have been yours since you we met, since you saved me. Hold my hand in your hand and let me be yours forever – for as long as I have left.

Tav’s healing hands, gloved with selfless protection, the Hellrider paladin’s pride. A magic that protected when it healed. A magic that prevented more harm. But never to the wearer.

Compassion. Selflessness. Hope. Tav.

Gale whispered Tav’s name back and wished that it was longer, that he could keep it forever on his tongue. And this was all he said, kept everything else of his screaming thoughts inside.

Tav smiled. And their whole face lit up.

And he hoped that Tav maybe, per chance had heard these words anyways, laced in their name on his tongue.

“You know that I…”, Tav paused, closing their eyes for the span of a heartbeat and continued on.

“You know that I will do everything in my might to protect you. With my sword, my spells, my magic. On my oath, on my honor, I will never let anything happen to you. You know that, my… Gale, you have to know that!”, they whispered, voice urgently desperate and pleading. Lips once again barely centimetres away from his.

He could kiss them again, he truly could. He wanted to.

Maybe he could be selfish again. Just this once. Just this second time.

But a sudden bright light cut through the darkness and a loud voice yelled.

Another vessel. Duergar!

And Tav let go of Gale. Removed their hands from his neck, let go of his hand in theirs but their fingers lingered on his for another precious second.

A silent sigh escaped from their lips as they looked at him, resignation in their eyes – was that even disappointment – and an apologetic smile on their lips as Tav’s eyebrows rose and they rolled their eyes for a second.

He knew this look. He knew it well.

Here we go again, it said, let’s see what it is now…

So he smiled encouraging, letting his brows rise for a heartbeat, too, in answer and Tav understood.

I have your back, whatever awaits us now, I am there, right here at your side!

[thechaoticcheese]

TW: Attempted angst, War, Blood

Ghoap Oneshot - If I Wanted Help, I Would've Asked

The sounds of gunshots had filled the air as Ghost was wrestling with an enemy threatening to carve up the skin on his face, as if he needed any more scars on his mug. He was in an active hotspot during this battle, unusual for someone who was a sniper, but yet he was trained for all aspects of combat and he did what needed to be done. He was grunting with the enemy soldier as the knife started to get dangerously close to his dust covered balaclava, fear being apparent in the enemy’s eyes. He was so afraid to die by the skull bearing man’s hand and adrenaline was coursing through his veins. Ghost couldn’t blame the bloke, but he knew he could be stronger, he was stronger.

Ghost had just started to force his muscles to go overtime as he struggled to get the blade away from his face before the enemy was shot in the side, the momentum from the blast made the male lurch to the side before falling down to the ground, lying dead as Ghost pushed him off with a huff. The Brit stood up and looked over to see a furious, but worried Soap. “Ghost! Ye alrigh’?” He asked, concern filled his voice. “Yeah.” Ghost brushed him off, grabbing the enemies weapon that was slung against his back, Ghost having lost his somewhere on the battlefield. It happens, the army will just supply more. “Don’ do tha’ Ghost.” Soap’s angered tone cut through the sounds of war around them. “Ye should’a radioed that ye needed help.”

Ghost stopped in his tracks as chaos continued to rain on the dust battlefield. Explosions were heard and felt from his right side as the ground quaked. How the duo could have this conversation and not be hit was beyond him. “If I wanted help, I would’ve asked.” Ghost responded coldly before starting to return to battle. “Don’ pull tha’ bullshite!” Soap protested before gasping, falling to the ground and holding his side. The sound made Ghost turn around and quickly aim the commandeered firearm at the enemy who had just shot Soap. His Johnny. “We were talkin’!” Ghost growled as he shot at the soldier, dropping the person with a quick few bullets before running then skidding over to Soap, seeing the Scot hold his side tightly, blood starting to stick to his hand. “Jesus Christ.” Ghost mumbled as he quickly supported Soap and started to move him to a safe location, taking the gun he had in his non-dominate hand. “An’ ‘ere I thou’ ye were given’ up on me.” Soap joked as he leaned onto Ghost for support while keeping his hand firm on the bullet wound. “I like you alive, Johnny.” Ghost grunted before setting Soap behind a rock, ripping off part of a shirt from a corpse nearby before tightly wrapping it around the Scot as he hissed in pain.

“Then ask for bloody help yea?” Soap quipped with a cocky smile as he looked at Ghost who only offered a sparing glare before he radioed for a medic to come get Soap. “Next time.” Ghost replied gruffly. He gave Soap a gentle pat on the shoulder, pausing before gently kissing his forehead then disappearing back into the chaos.

Soap watched him leave and sighed before saying over the radio, “Love ye too ye bastard.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Another request from @bone-trash and based on this post(specifically the prompt: If I wanted help, I would've asked)! If you'd like to request something from that list, or anything at all, feel free to send it to my mail(ask)box! I'll get to it as soon as I can!

I also don't really know how to properly write angst/what is considered angst so I hope this fits the bill lol. Also Ik this is just a drabble, but I just had a small scene in mind cause angst between the boys always need to be followed up by fluff but I can't do that here. So a short Ilu it is.