#and they were sent fleeing soon enough too

[pushing500]

Another family reunion raid arrived, but this time it was Impids.

There was a brachiosaurus with Alzheimer's wandering around by the base, so Kawoo asked it to help us out with her yttakin "animal warcall" ability. It did a pretty fine job taking out some raiders and only got a little bit set on fire. Thank you, helpful brachiosaurus.

One of the raiders taken out by the brachiosaurus (with help from our turrets) was, unfortunately, Fafo's nephew, which made her a bit sad. I left most of the bodies lying out in the rain but decided it would be alright to bury Pinovo because I had a spare sarcophagus, after all.

I'm sure Wendy doesn't mind, and Pearl the cheetah was probably getting lonely in that tomb all by herself.

If I ever made a RimWorld Bingo chart, I would put "non-yttakin colonist has yttakin relatives" as one of the tiles because it keeps happening!! Luckily Gracie's cousin and Debby's niece had the sense to flee before they were killed, so I didn't need to build any more sarcophagi.

First | Next | Previous

[dragoneyes618]

During Hitler's first five years in power, the Nazis did a great deal to make the lives of Jews miserable. They revoked their citizenship, ejected Jewish students from German schools, boycotted Jewish stores, and banned Jews from a large number of professions. On occasion, individual Jews were sent to concentration camps; the Nazis, however, had not yet created death camps and, remarkably enough, people were sometimes released from concentration camps and allowed to go home.

On the night of November 9-10, 1938, the Nazis' discriminatory policy toward the Jews changed to wholesale violence as they carried out the largest pogrom in the history of the world. The official pretext for this action was the killing in Paris of a low-level Nazi diplomat by a seventeen-year-old Jewish boy, Herschel Grynspan. The boy's Polish-born parents had been deported several weeks earlier from Germany back to Poland. The Poles, however, refused to accept Grynspan's parents, along with seventeen thousand other Polish-born Jews deported by the Nazis. These unfortunate Jewish refugees were left to rot, penniless, in the no-man's land separating Germany and Poland. Cut off from contact with his parents, Gwynspan shot the German official in retaliation. When the man died, the Nazis decided to punish all of German Jewry for Grynspan's deed.

The pogrom that ensured became known as Kristallnacht, the night of the broken glass. On that night, the glass windows in almost every German synagogue, and in most Jewish-owned businesses, were shattered. Shattered, too, were the lives of almost all German Jews. Ninety-one Jews were murdered during Kristallnacht; thirty thousand more were arrested and sent to concentration camps, where hundreds of them died.

World leaders denounced the Nazi pogrom, and American Jewry reacted by forming the United Jewish Appeal, which soon became the greatest fundraising organization in Jewish history. The Nazis scoffed at the protests. They announced that Kristallnacht had been carried out in honor of the birthday of Martin Luther, the sixteenth century antisemitic religious reformer whom Hitler greatly admired. The Nazis also announced the imposition of a one-billion-mark fine against the Jews; they would be forced to pay for the damage the Germans had inflicted on their synagogues and property.

German Jewry now knew that their situation was hopeless. While large numbers of them had left Germany during the first five years of Nazi rule, half of the community of 600,000 had remained, hoping that Nazi antisemitism would moderate. After Kristallnacht, they recognized that such thinking was illusory; between that event and the outbreak of World War II, less than ten months later, virtually every Jew in Germany tried to emigrate. Few countries, however, were willing to accept them. The British imposed a White Paper in Palestine to ensure that it not become a haven for Jews fleeing Hitler. Some of the Jews who tried to emigrate to the United States succeeded; most did not. In Canada a high government official was asked how many Jewish immigrants the country could accommodate. "None is too many," he answered.

It is no coincidence that Kristallnacht brought about the formation of the United Jewish Appeal, later to become a major financial supporter of Israel. More than any other event of the time, Kristallnacht converted large numbers of Jews into Zionists; the price of not having a Jewish state, they realized, was too, too high.

- Jewish Literacy, Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, pages 390-391

[icomeandg0]

"More than One"

Linked universe x Y/n (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Confusing.

"She's my Y/n!"

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

Being dumped in another place wasn't on the chains to do list.

This definitely got a rise out of the boys, nonstop grumbling coming from Legend and Wind while the others were wearing their poker face to disguise their frustration on this unfortunate situation they had found themselves in.

"Does anyone at least know this landscape?” Sky asked with a slight hopeful tone in his tired voice only to be answered with shrugs of the shoulders and grumbles.

They ventured through the dense forest, nothing but trees...trees and-Oh! More trees.

“Well this sucks, I swear that shadow is toying with us now. We weren’t even in the other place for a week!” Legend was the first to speak about his frustrations earning a few nods of agreement from a few others but Time shuts it down.

“Even so, there must be a reason why we were sent here so early. So instead of complaining we will figure it out and rest.”

None of the boys would even object to Times commands, they would only lash out internally. “Well, we’re low on food and we’re in a forest..Perfect time to stock up, don't you think?" Wild suggested, Time was against stopping now but seeing as it was getting late and that the boys would be satisfied and no longer needed to complain he had no choice to.

"Fine, we'll stop here for tonight. We leave first thing in the morning"

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

Wild adjusted his bow as Twilight stands behind him, "I'll come with, don't know where you'll end up." Wild only rolls his eyes playfully, "I bet you'd sniff me out if I got lost."

The two were walking deeper into the woods but not deep enough where they didn't know where they were. Soon in a clearing Wild found some deer, Wild signals for Twilight to stay put and to keep quiet as Wild crouches towards the herd.

he aligned the arrow in the middle of the bow, pulling the string back he focuses on the deer...

'Gotcha!-'

Wild's Sheikah slate began to beep out loud, startling the herd and making them all flee so in a hurry Wild shots but misses, Wild huffs and grabbed his slate from his hip and looks at it.

The slate was already on the map and it had a glowing spot, 'Detecting another Sheikah slate user'

Wild was confused, no way someone in this era had a Sheikah slate, must be someone from his era...Wouldn't be Zelda, she was getting her Sheikah slate upgraded, Could it be...?

Wild's eyes widened and he was about to run towards where that glowing spot was but Twilights hand rested on his shoulder, Wild hugged the slate to his chest so Twilight wouldn't see. "Didn't catch anything huh?" Oh that's right...

"Nah, stepped on a stick and made them run away" Wild lied through his teeth, Twilight didn't seem to catch on, "That's fine, we'll try to find something else. C'mon" Wild gulps and nods, He really wanted to go searching but he couldn't do it now, Later.

"Finally! Took you long enough to come back! I'm starving" Wind hops up to his feet when he sees the deer draped around Twilight's shoulders, "Sorry, I'll get on with cooking" Wild smiles and pulls out his pot.

Once everyone was satisfied with their dinner they helped to clean up but when Four went to grab the pot he noticed leftovers from dinner, "Hey Wild, what should I do with this?" he asked, raising his brow curiosity. "Oh just leave it, I'll keep it." "Leftover's huh? You don't normally leave leftovers." Twilight points out. "Yeah...Got a bit carried away with cooking, no harm in more food, right?" Twilight nods.

"So who's on watch tonight?" Legend grumbled at the thought of it being him- "I'll do it" Wild offers, no one seems to object since neither of them wanted to do it.

"I'll be on second" Twilight nods.

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

It didn't take too long for everyone to knock out, Wild waits a little bit before grabbing his slate to see the glowing spot again. Wild needs to go and find them, but he knows he'd be in trouble when he's back nor will he forgive himself if he leaves and something attacks while he's gone.

But he needs to reach them...Needs to reach his-

He leaves the camp with light footsteps to not wake anyone...but unknowingly someone was awake that whole time.

Once Wild knows he's at a safe distance he begins to pick up his speed and run quickly towards the glowing spot on his map, he’s so close-

But once he approaches he sees a dragon, resting on its side, it’s taking deep huffs as if it’s resting.

Wild looks terrified, he looks at his slate and then back at the dragon…His glowing spot is where the dragon is.

No way, was he late? Did the dragon…Did the dragon kill Y/n? Was he late again?

While he was deep in thought he didn’t realise the dragons piercing E/C orbs staring at him, not until it let out a low growl.

Wild was in a hurry and forgot to grab weapons, something he now regrets. Though the dragon had arrows and various other weapons on its back which explained why it was on its side…It wasn’t attacking since it was probably tired but Wild wouldn’t take any chances so he kept his guard up.

Wild takes another look at the slate and throws the slate in frustration, He failed again, to protect someone he had loved.

The dragon wasn’t phased, however, the dragon was thinking about how dramatic that was until…The dragon noticed the eye on the slate and it looked familiar.

The Dragon growls once more to gain Wilds attention, once Wild looked the beast lifted up its wing revealing…

Y/n, His Y/n. You were safe…sorta.

Blood covered the side of your torso, it was dried up but you probably lost so much you were unconscious now. Your slate was loosely in your hand, Wild wasted no time running towards you, grabbing you and checking your pulse and breathing.

Once he saw that you were still alive he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Gotta bring you back…” Wilds ears twitched when he heard the bushes rustle…

“Damnit, not here.” Wild muttered but once he saw it was wolfie he huffed.

“Of course, you sniffed me out didn’t you?” Wild sighs when Wolfie walked over to him, sniffing the girl in Wilds arms.

“Look, I’ll explain later. I gotta take her back to the others, hopefully Hyrule can heal her…” Wild says as he gets up and runs off…

Wolfie turns to the dragon who was resting once again, letting out a weak huff…Wolfie walked over and gives the Dragon a little nudge with his snout earning a soft grumble from the dragon.

Once Wild made it back to camp he rushes into Hyrules tent to wake him up, “Hyrule! Hyrule! Ugh, Link!” Wild shakes Hyrule making him shoot open his eyes in a hurry, he looks up at him and rubs his eyes.

“W-what? Monster?” Hyrule reaches for his sword but Wild shakes his head, “No…but can you heal her? Please.” Wild pleaded as he lowered you down gently on the ground, Hyrules eyes widened but he looks determined.

“Explain after”

“Roger that.”

To be continued…

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

My first ever post, hopefully it was…decent?

[crisiscutie]

punishment. (rebirth)

pairing: 🐍Yandere Sephiroth/Fem!Reader🕊️

You thought you could get away from your Yandere lover? Think again...

Content warning: NSFW. Noncon. Yandere Sephiroth. Physical/Emotional Abuse. Fear/Primal Play. Size Difference (yass)

A part of you knew that you wouldn't win. But you tried anyway. Maybe when you can finally be at peace with yourself if you actually fought this time. Whatever happens, you need to make sure that you won't go "home" with Sephiroth.

As soon as you saw him waiting in the dark woods behind the inn, you knew you had to act quickly. The one area that used to be your haven is now tainted with his presence. You just left him, but now it's time to show yourself that you've really moved past him...

You summoned your blade as you rushed at him. For a good moment, he played along, effortlessly parring your strikes. He felt an influx of new strength from you, but it was still not enough to overcome him. Your cute defiance only made his raging cock eager to take you. You're his precious darling, and you need a reminder of who you belong to.

Eventually, he grew weary of this "mock" fight. He closed his eyes and coolly jabbed his blade through your lower arms, thighs, and leg all at once, causing you to yelp and then crash to the ground. You tried to keep your tears at bay as the coppery taste of blood lingered in your mouth.

Don't worry. You still got spirit. You thought. But as Sephiroth's slit eyes flickered open like a snake, the doubt set in. He stared you down, studying the best ways to play with his food. His tall and menacing stature cast a shadow over your smaller frame. He just couldn't wait to have you. Your womb will be his.

The next few moments happened so quick you couldn't keep up with him. He lifted and shifted your body, straddling your legs to his hips. Wooziness washed over you, no doubt from the blood loss. Your vision had a slight blur to it from the throbbing pain that overwhelmed your senses and your arms hung limply at your sides. You just now registered that your panties were brushed to the side, his cock slowly pushing in and out of you. He was just barely inside you, and already your cunt was struggling to take him. His gloved hand cupped your cheek, relishing in your broken, submissive beauty.

As your unprepared cunt constricted around him, his thrusting quickened. He wanted to keep teasing you, but his primal need to claim your womb overrode it. Your body quivered with an odd yearning for his seed. If only your clit and cunt revulsed from him as your mind did.

You were full of love for him at one point. But when his temper and mind games became too much to bear, you had no choice but to flee. But of course, he found you here, at the very inn you both first met. He always said you're so easy to predict. You clenched your teeth when your abused cunt stretched further around him as he descended further. He was just too big for you to take. Not that he cared though. But as if something within him possessed him, he sent you crashing to the ground, almost crushing you under his weight afterward, while a cruel smirk formed on his lips.

Tears cascaded down your face. Your beaten body squirmed from the impact aftermath. He threw your legs over his shoulders as his cock battered your cervix without mercy, as his own satisfaction is paramount, not yours.

No. No. NO!

A sharp, stabbing pain radiated in your stomach as your cervix struggled to resist his brutal mating press. You could only pray to whatever fucked up higher power out there to end this. You didn't even recognize Sephiroth at this point. His heavy, lusty grunts and the savage rutting of your cunt felt more fitting for a rabid, feral animal than the suave mastermind he believed himself to be.

Your mouth opened and closed, but the only sound that escaped were pitiful whimpers. You don't have the means to take care of a child, especially not his. And you don't even want to think about what Sephiroth even is now ever since he became one with JENOVA. You don't want any trace of them in you. The very thought of them cumming inside of you was revulsive. Unfortunately, the sadistic bastard was more than capable of sensing your thoughts and emotions. Your revulsion only fueled his drive to make your cervix yield.

After enduring more and more of this intense mating press, your prayer seemed to be answered as you lost all sense of thought when your cunt juices sprayed and slathered his cock. Not too long after, He let out a soft groan, one that was finally appropriate for his suave persona when his sticky, JENOVA-corrupted spunk flooded your defenseless womb. But he didn't want to pull out of you yet. He was determined to have every single drop of that "repulsive" alien cum in you. His lips drew nearer to yours, just savoring the sight of your tearful eyes rolling back with a sickening smirk he had never worn before. The essence made from him and his goddess mother, whom you dared to reject, will now defile every part of you, and he couldn't be happier about it. He reached out for your stomach bulge, stroking his large cock through it.

His domination didn't even stop there. Even his seeds in your body relentlessly hunted and ravaged your lone egg for as long as they could, coiling around it like a snake until the last seed penetrated it. Twisted, happy delusions flickered in Sephiroth's mind afterwards, the future visions of how this seed of life will blossom into a beautiful product of love that he and you created together.

When he had finally come down from his orgasm and the rush of power, his touch became surprisingly gentle and affectionate toward you, but there was still a mocking air to his actions, of course. He cradled your petite body and healed it using his dark magic.

"Good girl~," he said and gently patted your head. You lost the privilege of becoming his true equal, so now, the special role of his pet is what you'd have to resign to. You're his property now. Though it's something you can't be ungrateful about. It was a special mercy that he would only extend to you.

As his dark magic slowly mended your wounds, you felt a brief sharp sting of pain, a reminder of the despair to come, resulting from your disobedience. From now on, as Sephiroth's pet, you will no longer be addressed by your name. Your identity will be completely under his control, tailored to his cruel likings. After the mending was complete, he set a course for "home". The environment around you two distorted as he summoned a dark purple portal. He princess carried you into it and glowered at your small, broken form one last time.

He can't wait to begin your training.

While in the process of posting old and new stuff to my AO3, I ended up rewriting most of an old fic. Hope you guys enjoyed this!

[morganas-pendragons]

wash away the blood | celebrimbor

gif by beaulesbian

this idea was WAY too good for my little brain to pass up. I'm gonna keep writing these regardless of what happens to him (I have 2 hurt/comfort fics for Celebrimbor in my drafts... let me know what else you want to see!) and this was born from my desire to hug Celebrimbor and never let go.

this still follows the elf reader for my past fic Ease and is a female reader + the prompt is ''river'' and ''blood'' (which I came up with myself LOL)

LIGHT SPOILERS FOR 2x07 READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

His entire being aches down to the very core of his soul. His hands are bloodied, and his cheeks are cut up and bruised, but Celebrimbor cannot help but allow himself this one moment of comfort as Galadriel stands in front of him and cradles his face like he is the most precious thing in this world.

The hearts of his kin were always far bigger than he could comprehend.

"I built this city. My place is here."

Galadriel shook her head. "No," She replied. "Your place is with her, far away from Sauron's influence. I will take The Nine for you. You dare not face him alone."

Like a being straight out of his dreams, Celebrimbor watches you emerge from the darkness of Eregion's ruins with all the desperation of a woman just trying to save the man she loves.

That is the promise you made to him, after all.

It was the one thing he could count on amid the illusion.

"Celebrimbor, my love," You slip your bow over your shoulders and approach him with haste, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him as he leans his weight into the warmth of your embrace. You have been an embodiment of safety and security since Annatar showed up. You had proven to him that despite his misgivings, his pride, and his arrogance, he was worth more than simply the skills he had to offer Middle Earth. "She's right. We have to go. I distracted Annatar enough that he'd be struggling to look for The Nine for a while. We have time to flee the city if we go now."

"Go to Lindon. You will be safe there," Galadriel assures. "Tell them it was I who sent you. I will buy you time."

You don't tell Celebrimbor that you've regained your memory of the spells you grew up learning or how you successfully kept yourself shielded from Sauron's manipulations. You don't tell him that the staff slung across your back is your own either. He will surely find out that you've regained your magical capabilities soon enough.

Your face crumples when you feel his hand come to cradle your jaw and find it slick with blood. His thumb is missing. You feel the weight of him sinking into you further and shifting to accommodate as you turn yourself and Celebrimbor toward Galadriel. She has no argument. The Commander of the Northern Armies simply nods her confirmation and disappears into the shadow and flame.

Celebrimbor's quiet, agonized confession echoes soundlessly in your ears as you lead the way toward the Dwarven tunnel.

"All that loss, all that death... And it all remains on my hands."

You don't have anything to say to him. Bracing your hand against his hip, you lead the Smith you love to the horse at the end of the tunnel and help him into the saddle first. He is barely conscious by the time you sit behind him and gently pull his body into your own so he will sit upright.

A quiet sigh breaks past your lips as you press your chin into his shoulder and allow silent tears to fall. Celebrimbor follows suit, swallowing the knot in his throat as tears fall down the blood on his cheeks.

He can only manage a strangled whisper of, "I love you." before your fingers are pressed against his stomach, murmuring in Quenya under your breath as he falls into unconsciousness.

***

The first thing Celebrimbor feels upon waking is warmth. His entire being is warm. The crackle of a fire echoes beside him as he slowly opens his eyes, greeted with a twilight sky and the gentle hum of a voice somewhere above him as fingers card through his hair.

He feigns sleep for another moment to bask in the moment. It is the first true moment of safety he has felt in weeks.

"Good morning, my love." You murmur. Celebrimbor forces his eyes open again to gaze upon your face and softens. You look the picture of beauty, even with your unkempt hair and ash and blood upon your cheeks. "You've been asleep for two days."

Well. That was mostly true. Sauron's influence had not fully lost its grip until you were well out of Eregion's reach, and in that time, he had attempted to attack you twice and had left bruises on you. You chalked it up to exhaustion and delirium. He would not. Celebrimbor would never forgive himself for it.

"I seem to be a mess," He said quietly. You pressed your hands against his shoulders and slowly helped him to sit up. The forest around you was quiet save for the chatter of creatures and bird song. There was no war to be seen for miles. "And here you are, taking care of me yet again."

"I love you. What happened in Eregion and what Sauron did does not change that." You said firmly. Reaching over him, you produce a bag of fruits and nuts you'd obtained earlier that morning while he slept. "I do however want you to try to eat."

He almost immediately complies, were it not for the shock of seeing his hand healed.

Celebrimbor's eyes snap to you in astonishment as he runs his other hand over where his injured thumb is. He remembered being in agonizing pain, remembered the gentle lull of your voice and the warmth of silver light engulfing him.

It was you.

"You..." His voice falters, leaving you an opportunity to interject if you so wish to. You did not dare. His voice had been taken from him for so long that you would never put him in a position where he could not speak his thoughts and feelings again. "It was mangled when we left Eregion. Bloodied. What did you do?"

You tap your circlet and wiggle your fingers. "I told you I have healing magic. It's just one thing I've remembered how to do." You said. "But I cannot heal weariness. That only comes with time."

Your eyes are fixated on his mouth as his tongue slides across one of the berries before disappearing behind his lips.

The air between you is thick with tension, electrified by your growing desire for him. He knows it. So do you, but you do not wish to overstep, especially when he is in this state. That is what prompts Celebrimbor to motion toward the river and then to his robes.

"I believe we are both in need of a cleansing. I am too weak to do it on my own." He states. Realization flickers behind your eyes as he sets the bag of food aside before gesturing for your hand. "Would you guide me to the river, My Lady?"

How are you supposed to say no when he's looking at you like you hung the stars and the moon in the sky, like you are an emissary sent straight from the Valar themselves, ever the image of true beauty?

Despite knowing you love him and he loves you, he still has such capacity to reduce you into a stuttering mess.

You nod wordlessly and stand to your feet. He's still hesitant to be in the open, as is expected, but there is something about your protection in Celebrimbor's most vulnerable moment that puts him at ease as you two trek the distance to the river.

It only occurs to you upon spotting its banks that this is the first time since you will see him fully unclothed. It's not like the massage when you met. It's more intimate. It's vulnerable.

"My love," Celebrimbor's voice breaks through your reverie as you step into the sand. "I believe I may need help removing these old things. I don't know what use they will be anymore. Can you assist me?"

You don't know why you're hesitating. You love him. He's made it clear he loves you too, and no one else in this world has ever made you feel so safe. He'd taken such good care of you when you arrived in Eregion. Alone and destitute, The Lord of the Elven Smiths had brought you under his wing as you sought out refuge from the world around you. From your lack of memories, from your lack of trust.

And then he'd shown you what pure love looked like. You had been his ever since.

"Lift your arms." You murmur low in his ear. Celebrimbor complies, wincing as the fabric grazes a wound on his side before he finds himself free of the confines of his robes. His underclothes do not fare much better. "I'm sorry, Celebrimbor."

"Whatever for? You are not to blame for this."

"I'm sorry that he inflicted such pain upon you. You have a kind and gracious heart that only wished to fulfill a legacy you feel is an expectation of being from the House of Feanör," You state as you slowly lead him into the water just enough to where it dips beneath your waist. You are still dressed in your own clothes. The armor you'd worn during the Siege has long been discarded. "And I'm sorry he used you as a means to his own end."

"I survived." He replies. You lean outward as his good hand catches your face, seeking out the warmth and comfort of a desired touch as his thumb traces your lips. "You were my only truth amid all the deceit."

You allow him to draw you to him as he bends his head to meet your mouth, sighing softly in response as you press your hands to his chest. It is a sweet and short kiss that conveys nothing short of Celebrimbor's gratitude that you have stood by his side throughout it all.

When you are the first to pull away, you bend down to cup your hands and fill them with water. "It'll be easier for me to wash your hair if you are kneeling. Would you?"

"Of course."

The next few minutes pass in silence as you wash the blood from his hair. The water of the river tinges red as you continue, working your fingers through his curls and deep against his scalp to ensure you have removed all of the dirt and grime that has settled there. He tips his head into your hands, at your total mercy, and allows his eyes to flicker across your aspect as you continue.

"Okay," You remark. "That is your hair. The rest-"

"I would very much like it to be your turn, My Love." He interjects. You raise a brow at his forwardness and laugh as his cheeks tinge pink. "If you'll allow it."

You turn your body toward him and lift your hair to allow him access to the fastenings of your clothing. You are just as bloodied as he is, skin smeared with orc and elf blood as you had spent the majority of your time during the Siege at the front when Elrond had shown up.

A shiver runs down your spine as Celebrimbors fingers graze the curve of your back, loosening each fastening before your shirt is loose and heavy with water. You nod your confirmation and watch it fly back in the direction of the shoreline where his robes sit.

You kneel and peer up at him through your hair. You're so glad he's here. You were so sure that Sauron was going to kill him before you could get back to the Tower.

''Hey, hey. What are these tears for?" He asks, urgency and concern lingering in his tone as he kneels to meet you in the water.

"I thought-" You swallow your fear and screw your eyes shut as your forehead seeks his own. Celebrimbor softens. He's always admired your ability to be vulnerable with him. To let him see your heart in a way no one else ever has. "I thought Sauron was going to kill you. Kill you, make me watch-"

He'd thought the same thing.

Celebrimbor runs his fingers over the bruises on your cheeks before shaking his head. "You and Galadriel made me see reason. You got me out. You took care of me and tended to my wounds. No one else would have been able to break through his influence like you did. And now that we are here?" You open your eyes and sigh as water descends through your hair and down your neck. "Let us be cleansed of Him."

So that's exactly what happens. Minutes feel like hours as you keep him afloat atop the water and help him wash his body of the war you have left behind. Even though Celebrimbor struggles, he does the same to you, cradling you with such a tenderness that it makes your heart ache.

When you are both cleansed, you stop him from returning to the shore with a kiss that takes his breath away. He is only just able to return the kiss with equal fervor when he manages to get your feet out from beneath you and topples you into the water.

Laughter echoes in the air as you sink below the water before you pull yourself back up, flabbergasted that he'd pulled such a move.

Then you see why.

Celebrimbor is smiling.

He may not be as whole as he once was, oh no, but he's still the most beautiful person you know. That soul is so gentle despite all he has endured.

Precious.

"You're staring."

You snap to attention at his remark and grin. You can't help it. "I love you." You reply. His response is immediate: That smile you love so much as he slowly chases you through the water with all the strength you both can muster before you both collapse on the boulder where your clothes are drying.

It is there in the light of the sun with you wrapped in his embrace that he finds the courage to ask the question.

Sauron has no influence here. Not anymore.

"Will you marry me?"

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name ch.2

You can read the whole chapter on AO3! (It didn't fit in tumblr's textbox)

Chapter 1 can be found here.

---

A month later.

For the first time in much too long, Danny could almost pretend that ghosts aren't real.

He kept his eyes down and a nervous smile plastered on his face as he made his way across Wayne Enterprises’ cafeteria. He had a job now and he couldn’t afford to fuck this up. He could be a normal employee, a normal human. No more fighting, no more hiding, no more lying, and no more ghosts. Well, except for himself. But he had not dared to change into Phantom since he managed to shake his parents for fear of his ectosignature tipping them off to where he was hiding.

Danny had simply changed into a human, circled back around after fleeing Gotham, and then stayed there. Who could have thought that such an easy strategy would work? But as Tuck had said, “Your parents don't believe that ghosts can think, of course it worked.”

Gotham hadn’t been his first choice for escape, nor safe haven, but it had proved to be very effective in keeping him hidden. It had been a month since his parents chased him to the city and after weeks of jumping at shadows, rooting through garbage and stealing leftovers, and sleeping in abandoned houses and attics, he felt safe enough to try actually getting a job. The city’s natural ectoplasm had proven to be a great aid in hiding his ectosignature.

He knew that they had followed him when he ran away, but they had gone back home to work on Ancients knew what.

Not that he had ever even dared hope that his first job in the city would be at Wayne Enterprises of all places.

He had applied after several encouraging conversations with his sister, Sam and Tucker. In the end, he had sent the application mostly as a joke. He never would have dreamed that he would actually get in.

Maybe hanging out so much with Tucker had given him a slightly warped perception on how good other people were with tech. Apparently, growing up tinkering inventions in a lab with his life on the line for years actually taught you something. Who would have guessed? Honestly, having to construct his own prosthetic arm out of scraps of metal and trash had probably also helped, since having his arm cut off by his own—

Silver lining and all that.

Danny bit back a hiss of pain as he hurried across the cafeteria while balancing his tray on his right hand, not completely used to his improvised prosthesis yet.

Thank fuck for his accelerated healing or he would probably have gotten some very nasty infections and lost more of his arm. If he would have survived at all.

That didn’t make the constant pain and phantom sensations any easier to deal with. And it definitely hadn’t cured him from the ghost in him like his parents had hoped for.

To their credit; their invention had actually worked for once. It had destroyed the ghost. Too bad the ghost was inseparable from him. It was just lucky that he had realized what was happening, and managed to get away before it took more than his arm. He didn’t think his parents had even realized what they had done. And if he got his way; they never would. Not to spare their feelings or anything, but he couldn’t stand to see them again.

He just wished the distance from his parents worked in making him feel better, but no such luck. Most of the time, he still felt like utter shit with splitting headaches, an ache in his whole body, nosebleeds, and inescapable pain emanating from his lost arm. More than just the pain, he felt unbalanced. Like one of the failed clones Vlad had made. Hopefully it would go away soon; he had never had such long lasting effects from an injury before. Then again, he had never lost a whole limb before.

He desperately claimed one of the few empty tables close to the corner and sank down in his chair with a breath of relief.

The people here seemed nice enough but Danny was too high-strung to really appreciate their kind words and open smiles.

That was why he was shocked when a shadow fell across the table and Danny looked up to see a young man with black hair and blue eyes standing over his table with a wide smile on his face. “Hey! You're new, right?”

Danny blinked. He hadn’t been anti-social before his sudden bout of homelessness and hiding, but he had never been popular enough for someone to approach him in a cafeteria before. He squashed down his paranoia immediately clamoring that this was a trick. He was fine. No one knew who he was. He had to make friends, like Jazz said. He had to move on.

“Yes. I am.” He added a slightly strained smile. “Thanks for taking pity on me.”

Danny knew he wasn’t very used to interacting with people but the man didn’t seem to feel deterred as he simply sat down in a chair opposite Danny and started digging into his own lunch with an easy smile. “No worries! The name’s Tim,” he said between bites and Danny felt himself relax slightly at his casual attitude.

Danny smiled. “Nice to meet you Tim, I'm—” he cut himself off at the last second as he remembered that he wasn’t Danny anymore, couldn’t be Danny if he wanted to stay safe. And Tucker had gone through a lot of trouble to make sure he had a new name, so he better use it. Even if he hated it. He would get used to it eventually. Probably. The smile on his face felt a bit stiffer as he continued, “I’m Dante. Dante Armstrong.”

Tucker had thought it had been hilarious. Dante and his trip in hell.

Danny would have killed him if he wasn’t 100% sure that Tuck would just come back as a ghost to haunt him in a way that would make Technus look like a baby’s-first-computer-virus in comparison.

Across from him, Tim’s smile widened. “Armstrong. Like the astronaut.”

“Thank you!” Danny threw his hands up. “Finally someone who doesn't make fun of me!”

Tim laughed. “What do people usually say?”

Danny crossed his arms as he muttered, “That my name sounds like an action figure.”

“Dante Armstrong…” Tim tried it out, then laughed again. “It does!”

“Hey! I believed in you!” Danny leveled an accusing finger across the table.

It only made Tim laugh harder. “Well, that's your mistake!”

“And here I thought you were a nice person.”

Tim smiled wide. “Glad to prove you wrong!”

Danny grinned back, careful not to show his sharp teeth, then he paused.

Now that he really took the other in, he realized that Tim looked a lot like Danny had in the not so distant past; lean, black hair, and blue eyes. It almost made him feel insecure about his new height and the bulk that had appeared almost overnight after running away from Amity. Last he checked he was almost as tall as his da—as Jack. Now, no matter how small he tried to appear, Danny still towered over most people, including Tim.

Sam thought it was because he was finally under less stress, but considering how little he had been eating since running away Danny personally thought it had more to do with his own view of himself than any external factors. He had learnt that ghosts were very easily influenced by how they saw themselves and, well. He had had to grow up very quickly since running away from home.

It also didn’t help that his ghostly side was starting to affect his human side. Now Danny was deathly afraid that it might draw unwanted attention to him. He had stolen glances of himself in storefront windows and bathroom mirrors, showing his now permanently green eyes, his growing fangs, his elongated ears.

He really tried to contain and hide the changes, make them as non-noticeable as possible since the people outside of Amity probably wouldn’t just write it off as “Fenton-weirdness”. The last thing he wanted was to draw the attention of the Bat, someone who would think to look deeper and ask questions. He had heard they weren’t especially welcoming to metas, and even though Danny wasn’t one, he didn’t care to explain what exactly he was. He had already tried that, and look where that had gotten him.

Tim raised an eyebrow at Danny’s sudden silence. “What?”

Danny shook his head, forcefully dispelling the thoughts. He had to focus on his life here and now and how to fit in. “Nothing,” he said and the two of them delved into an easy conversation.

Or, it would have been easy if Danny hadn’t noticed that several people in the room had stopped to stare at them. He felt his shoulders creep higher and higher as he cast about for a reason as to why.

In Amity, he had been used to stares, used to being weird. But here… he was doing his best to fit in and lay low. So why were people still staring?

Maybe they were on to him, the paranoid part of his brain whispered. It had been a mistake to start working in one of the top innovative companies in the country, full of geniuses and people thinking outside the box. Someone was bound to figure him out.

Danny discreetly lifted a hand to tug at his hair, making sure it was still covering his ears. Right now, he just hoped he wouldn't drag Tim down with him when someone found out the truth about him. Luckily, Tim didn't seem to notice the stares.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but a lot of the stares seemed focused on Tim instead of him. Maybe Tim was also an outcast? He didn’t look like it in his well-fitted suit and easy smile, but you never knew.

After a while of easy chatting—Danny was shocked to find that he didn’t mind talking to the other guy—Tim excused himself as he stood to leave, citing a meeting he needed to get to. “Nice talking to you, Danny!”

Danny froze, fork with the last of his lunch halfway to his mouth. “Why would you call me that?” 

Tim laughed easily, not noticing Danny's sudden tenseness. “You've never had a nickname before?” 

There's no way he knows, Danny reminded himself. It's just a coincidence. 

He wondered if Tucker had planned this. He had to admit that it made it easier for him, no risk of forgetting to answer to “Dante”.

He forced himself to smile as he put his fork back down on his plate. “Then I guess it's okay if I call you Timmy?”

“Do that and you'll be called The Big D for the rest of your time here,” Tim said with utmost seriousness and despite himself, Danny felt himself relax as he laughed. Tim made a face at him before walking away but Danny caught a glimpse of him smiling to himself before he completely turned away.

Danny barely had enough time to let it sink in that maybe—just maybe—he had actually started to make a real friend at this place when several people that Danny only knew tangentially, who had only talked to once or twice, swarmed his table.

Sarah, a nice woman from accounting, asked with wide eyes, “You talked to him! How was he?”

Danny blinked. “Who? Tim?”

Kenneth from R&D balked at him. “You call him Tim?!”

Maybe Danny wasn't the only reject here. The thought made Danny feel a bit defensive of his new friend. “That’s his name, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah, I just didn’t think—” Kenneth shook their head.

“Never mind, good for you!” Julie, a fellow engineer, said as she slapped him on the shoulder.

Everyone in the small group nodded. As if they were surprised Danny had managed to make a friend, that someone would give him their name.

Maybe he hadn’t blended in as much as he had thought. Maybe the people here didn’t like him after all. But that couldn't be it; even if they sometimes questioned his knowledge they never made fun of him for it. They had never been mean. Maybe they just didn’t like Tim. Danny made a personal promise to try and be nice to him if he ever met him again.

---

For the rest of the chapter you'll have to head on over to AO3!

[whywontyoucomeout]

Legend of the Sword and the Swollen Belly

Mei Lin moved like flowing water, her blade flashing in the dim light of the alleyway. Eight months pregnant she may have been, but that did nothing to slow the grace of her movements as she danced between her attackers.

"Look at the size of her!" one of the thugs jeered. "She can barely stand, much less fight!"

Mei Lin said nothing, conserving her breath. Let them underestimate her. It would be their downfall.

The first man lunged forward, swinging a heavy club. Mei Lin pivoted, her swollen belly just barely clearing the path of the weapon. In the same fluid motion, she brought her sword up and across, opening a deep gash in the thug's arm. He cried out and stumbled back.

Two more rushed her from opposite sides. Mei Lin dropped into a crouch, wincing at the strain on her lower back. The thugs collided above her with a meaty thud. As they reeled back, she rose and struck in two swift motions. Both men fell, clutching bleeding legs.

"Who sent you?" Mei Lin demanded, her voice steady despite her elevated breathing.

"Go to hell, you cow!" one of the fallen men spat.

Mei Lin's eyes narrowed. Her next strike left him short one ear.

"I won't ask again," she said coldly.

The remaining thugs looked at each other nervously. This was not how they had expected the night to go. Their boss had assured them this would be an easy job - just rough up some helpless pregnant woman as a warning to her husband. No one had mentioned anything about her being a master swordswoman.

"It was Gao," one of them said quickly. "Boss Gao sent us. Said to send a message to your husband about paying his debts."

Mei Lin nodded grimly. "Tell Gao that my husband's debts died with him three months ago. And if he sends anyone else after me or my child, his debts to me will be paid in blood."

She began to turn away, then paused as another contraction gripped her. The thugs watched in confusion and growing terror as she braced herself against the alley wall, breathing heavily.

After a long moment, Mei Lin straightened. She fixed the men with a steely glare. "Now get out of my sight. My child and I have an appointment to keep."

The thugs scrambled to gather their wounded and flee. Mei Lin watched them go, one hand on her sword, the other resting on her belly where her child kicked furiously.

"Settle down, little one," she murmured. "You'll have your chance to fight soon enough. But first, let's get you safely into this world."

With a final glance down the alley, Mei Lin sheathed her sword and set off toward the midwife's house. It was going to be a long night.

———————

Mei Lin arrived at the midwife's house, her breath coming in short gasps. The old woman, Madam Chen, took one look at her and ushered her inside.

"Is it time?" she asked, helping Mei Lin to a bed.

Mei Lin nodded, then grimaced as another contraction hit. Madam Chen examined her carefully, then frowned.

"False alarm, my dear," she said gently. "Your body is preparing, but the little one isn't ready yet."

Mei Lin sighed, partly in relief and partly in frustration. "How much longer?"

"Could be days," Madam Chen replied. "Get some rest. You'll need your strength."

Reluctantly, Mei Lin allowed herself to be convinced to stay the night. She slept fitfully, her dreams filled with clashing swords and crying infants.

The next morning, feeling refreshed but still very pregnant, Mei Lin made her way home. The streets were quieter than usual, an uneasy tension in the air. As she turned onto her street, she saw why.

A group of men stood outside her house, led by a portly figure she recognized all too well. Boss Gao himself had come to call.

"Ah, Mei Lin," Gao called out as she approached. "I heard you had an eventful evening. I thought I'd come personally to discuss your husband's... outstanding obligations."

Mei Lin's hand went to her sword hilt. "I told your men, Gao. My husband's debts died with him."

Gao's face hardened. "Debts don't die, Mei Lin. They pass to the family. Unless, of course, you'd like to work out an... alternative arrangement." His eyes lingered on her swollen belly.

White-hot rage filled Mei Lin. Without conscious thought, her sword was in her hand.

"Last chance, Gao," she growled. "Leave now, or join my husband in the afterlife."

Gao laughed and gestured to his men. "Take her."

What followed was a blur of steel and blood. Mei Lin fought like a woman possessed, her blade singing through the air. She was outnumbered, but her skill and fury more than made up for it.

One by one, Gao's men fell. Some fled, clutching bleeding wounds. Others lay still on the ground. Through it all, Mei Lin never lost sight of Gao, who watched with increasing panic as his forces dwindled.

Finally, it was just the two of them. Gao fumbled for a hidden dagger, but Mei Lin was faster. Her sword flashed out, knocking the weapon from his hand and opening a gash across his palm.

"Please," Gao whimpered, falling to his knees. "Mercy!"

Mei Lin stood over him, sword point at his throat. "Did you show mercy to my husband when he begged for more time? Did you show mercy when you sent thugs after his pregnant wife?"

She pulled back her sword for the killing blow, but suddenly staggered. A contraction gripped her, far stronger than before. As she gasped in pain, her water broke, soaking her legs.

Gao's eyes widened in terror. "You- you can't kill me now! It's bad luck to spill blood when a child is coming!"

Mei Lin's laugh was half pain, half bitter amusement. "Then it seems today is your lucky day, Gao." She lowered her sword. "Run. Run far and fast. Because if I ever see you again, no superstition will stay my hand."

As Gao scrambled away, Mei Lin sank to her knees, breathing heavily. The baby was coming, and coming fast.

"Madam Chen!" she called out, hoping the midwife was nearby. "I think it's time for real now!"

As neighbors began to emerge, drawn by the sounds of fighting, Mei Lin closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. One battle was over, but another was just beginning. And this time, she and her child would face it together.

———————————-

The Sword, the Swollen Belly, and the Solitary Struggle

Mei Lin's cries for Madam Chen went unanswered. The midwife must have been attending another birth. Panic threatened to overwhelm her as another contraction hit, stronger than before.

No, she thought fiercely. I've faced worse than this. I can do this.

With great effort, Mei Lin pulled herself to her feet. She couldn't give birth here in the street, surrounded by curious onlookers. She needed privacy and safety.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she staggered towards her house. Each step was agony, but she pressed on, one hand on her sword hilt, the other supporting her belly.

Once inside, she barred the door and made her way to the bedroom. She laid out clean sheets and gathered what supplies she could - a knife to cut the cord, clean cloths, water.

As she worked, the contractions intensified. Mei Lin found herself on her hands and knees, panting through the pain. She tried to remember what Madam Chen had told her about breathing, about pushing.

Hours passed in a haze of pain and effort. Mei Lin lost track of time, focused only on the relentless rhythm of contractions. She alternated between walking, squatting, and resting on her side.

"Come on, little one," she gasped. "We've fought so hard to get here. Don't give up now."

The pain reached a crescendo. Mei Lin felt an overwhelming urge to push. She bore down with all her might, a primal scream tearing from her throat.

Nothing happened.

Panic rose again. Was something wrong? She pushed again, and again, but the baby didn't seem to be moving.

Exhausted and terrified, Mei Lin closed her eyes. She thought of all the battles she'd fought, all the challenges she'd overcome. She thought of her husband, of the life growing inside her.

"We are warriors," she whispered fiercely. "And warriors don't give up."

With renewed determination, Mei Lin changed positions. She squatted, bracing herself against the bed. As the next contraction built, she took a deep breath and pushed with everything she had.

This time, she felt movement. Hope surged through her. "That's it," she encouraged herself. "Keep going."

Push after push, Mei Lin fought to bring her child into the world. The pain was beyond anything she'd ever experienced, but she embraced it, used it to fuel her determination.

Finally, with one last Herculean effort, she felt the baby slip free. Mei Lin caught the tiny, slippery body in her hands, her heart pounding.

For a terrifying moment, there was silence. Then, a lusty cry filled the room.

Tears streamed down Mei Lin's face as she brought the baby to her chest. "Hello, my little warrior," she whispered. "Welcome to the world."

With shaking hands, she cut the cord and cleaned the baby as best she could. It was a girl, small but strong, with a shock of dark hair and eyes that seemed to take in everything.

As Mei Lin held her daughter close, she felt a profound sense of peace. They had done it. Against all odds, they had survived.

"Your father would be so proud," she murmured to the now-quiet infant. "And I promise you, my little one, I will always be here to protect you. We'll face whatever comes together."

Outside, the sun was rising, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. A new day was dawning, and with it, a new chapter in Mei Lin's life. She knew there would be challenges ahead, but for now, she allowed herself to rest, her daughter safe in her arms.

The swordswoman had become a mother, and she was ready for her greatest adventure yet.

————————————-

Mei Lin's moment of peace was short-lived. As she cradled her newborn daughter, a familiar pain gripped her abdomen. Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

"No," she gasped. "It can't be..."

But the contractions continued, growing in intensity. Mei Lin's mind raced. Twins? How had she not known? How had Madam Chen not realized?

There was no time to ponder these questions. The second baby was coming, and coming fast. Mei Lin gently placed her daughter in a makeshift nest of blankets, then struggled to her feet.

This labor was different. The pain was sharper, more urgent. Mei Lin paced the room, one hand on her still-swollen belly, the other braced against the wall for support.

"Please," she whispered, unsure if she was addressing the baby or some higher power. "Please, let this be quick."

But it wasn't quick. Hours passed, and still the second twin refused to emerge. Mei Lin tried every position she could think of - squatting, standing, lying on her side. Nothing worked.

Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. She had already been through so much - the fight with Gao's men, the grueling first birth. How much more could her body take?

As another contraction wracked her body, Mei Lin found herself on her hands and knees. She stayed there, the cool floor offering some small relief against her feverish skin.

"Please, little one," she begged, her voice hoarse and trembling. "Please come out. Your sister is waiting for you. I'm waiting for you."

She pushed with all her might, over and over again. Sweat poured down her face, mingling with tears of exhaustion and frustration.

"I can't do this," she sobbed. "I can't..."

But even as the words left her mouth, she knew they weren't true. She was Mei Lin, master swordswoman, protector of the weak. She had faced down armies, survived the loss of her husband, brought one child into the world alone. She could do this.

With a guttural cry, Mei Lin gathered the last reserves of her strength. She bore down, pushing harder than she ever had before.

And finally, finally, she felt movement.

"Yes," she gasped. "That's it. Come on, little warrior. You're almost here."

With one last, monumental effort, Mei Lin felt the second baby slip free. She turned, catching the tiny body in her trembling hands.

This baby didn't cry immediately. For a heart-stopping moment, Mei Lin feared the worst. Then, as if sensing her panic, the infant let out a thin wail.

Mei Lin laughed through her tears, bringing the baby to her chest. "There you are," she murmured. "What a journey you've had."

This one was a boy, smaller than his sister but with a fierce grip that spoke of his strength. Mei Lin cleaned him as best she could, then brought both babies together.

As she looked down at her unexpected twins, a wave of love and protectiveness washed over her. They were tiny, vulnerable, perfect. And they were hers.

"My little warriors," she whispered. "My son, my daughter. I don't know what challenges lie ahead of us, but I promise you this - we will face them together. You are the children of a swordswoman and a scholar. You have the strength of your father's mind and your mother's arm. And you will never, ever be alone."

Outside, the sun had completed its journey across the sky. Night was falling, bringing with it a gentle breeze that whispered of new beginnings.

Mei Lin settled back against the wall, a baby in each arm. She was exhausted, sore, and more terrified than she'd ever been in her life. But she was also filled with a fierce joy and determination.

This was not the future she had planned. But as she looked at her children's faces, she knew it was the future she was meant to have. And whatever came next, she would be ready.

[i-cant-sing]

Okay but like, isn’t giving someone a dragon egg sort of like a proposal for the barbarians? sneaky Bakugo getting engaged and not telling his fiancé

YEssss that is 100% something Katsuki would do. Tricking you into marriage is the only thing thats gonna work because you dont pick up on the clear and very obvious signs of flirtation and obsessiveness, but thats fine. Katsuki will manage to get you one way or the other. (Kats has even held your face and confessed his love, only for you to smile and hold his face and say "aww I love you too, KitKat! And I love you, mr bunny! And you too, moo moo" basically u didnt take him seriously, you probably thought he was just roleplaying the knight in shining in armour, just like when u were kids.)

Anyways, Katsuki is visiting you and unbeknownst to anyone in the palace, he has a dragon egg. By the time your dear uncle Shotou hears about it, he's just a second too late as he bursts into your room, only to see you already have accepted the smug barbarian's gift.

And now Uncle Shotou, who was supposed to look after you while Dabi and Keigo were away on business (they were fracking) is panicking because how is he supposed to explain this situation to your father, or even break off the whole engagement without the barbarians starting a war.

First things first, he threw Katsuki out of the castle, which was a whole feat in itself because you kept interfering, saying that he was your friend who brought you a very expensive gift. But Shotou asserted his authority and sent you to your room while the royal guards threw out the brash blonde.

Then Shotou tried to explain to you about the whole "accept dragon egg = accept marriage proposal" concept and that you need to absolutely return the dragon egg back in order to break off the engagement. And of course you protest, because who tf would wanna give up a DRAGON EGG but you conceded to his request after Shotou borderline begged you to return it ("your father will kill me and Katsuki, princesss.")

Anyways, you write a letter to Katsuki, summoning him because you want to tell him something important and Katsuki practically skips his way over to your castle because he thinks you're about to confess your love for him as well.

By the time he comes, Dabi and Keigo are back from their "business" as well and are in their room while you have Katsuki in yours, where you begin to gently explain that you cannot accept the egg because you don't wanna get married just yet, and Kats is just starting to become heartbroken when just then, the egg hatches and a small baby dragon comes out and its just so small and cute that it has captivated both your and Katsuki's attention, and you guys dont even notice when Dabi and Keigo walk in on you two and then Dabi is just like-

"What the hell is that?!"

You and Katsuki looked at each other before you walked towards Dabi with the baby dragon still in your hands, you smiled softly.

"Dad... meet your grandchild!"

And both Dabi and Keigo's mouth are agape at your statement.

"What?" Dabi asks.

"Well, Katsuki and I are engaged-" "WHAT?!" "-yeah, and we have a baby to take care of now." You said casually as you cooed at the baby dragon, while Katsuki puffed his chest and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Get your hands off her before I rip your arm off!" Dabi gritted and the threat worked.

Meanwhile, Keigo just addded more oil to the fire. "So- Y/n, you're telling me you birthed a dragon? That thing came out of you? Or did it come out of Katsuki-"And that seemed enough for Dabi to finally lose control and pounce on Katsuki.

"YOU DEFILED MY DAUGHTER?! IM GONNA KILL YOU!"

"No, dad! We are engaged and I sent him away-"

"YOU WERE GONNA LEAVE HER ALONE TO RAISE YOUR MONSTER?!"

And you are barely able to get in the way and let Katsuki flee (of course, u promise him to meet again soon)

[ithebookhoarder]

Hey! I love your writing🥹 If you’re taking requests, please could I get your take on: female reader & Javi P are in a relationship. She finds out she’s pregnant a couple of weeks before a huge raid and hides it from everyone. During the raid she gets cornered by one of Pablo’s men and screams “I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant” Javi’s hears over the radio, his head snaps up and he takes off running to find her, Steve not far behind. + the aftermath once they get back to the embassy. Thank you ❤️

Crossroads (Javier Peña x AFAB!Reader)

A/n: MY HEART 💔  Thank you to whoever sent this gem in! I promise I’m also working on all the other requests in my inbox. I have them all started as drafts, but I get random bursts of inspiration for one at a time and then this happens. I’m so sorry for those of you patiently waiting - I will get to finishing them. Soon. This one just popped in my inbox and ran away with me... oops?

Warnings: Swearing, violence, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of possible termination of pregnancy, injury, references to drugs and the cartel. 

Masterlist

You didn’t know why you hadn’t told Javi. It seemed strange now, to think that you hadn’t told the one person who deserved the most to know. 

Maybe it was denial? Fear? Fear that he’d react badly? Fear he’d react with excitement? 

You couldn’t be sure, but why you hadn’t told him didn’t matter now so much as the fact itself. You hadn’t told Javi you were pregnant, and now it was too late. 

Now, you were stood inside a crappy warehouse, alone, waiting on a contact to confirm intelligence for a raid you had planned for later that night. Sure, you could tell him tonight once this whole mess was over with, but that was dependant on both of you getting out of this operation unscathed - and whilst you were both great agents, you’d learned long ago never to under-estimate the prey you hunted. 

Escobar and his network were intelligent, well connected, and somehow always one step ahead. It was why you relied so heavily on contacts such as the one you were meeting right now.

Only eighteen, Sophia was the daughter of one of Escobar’s runners and desperate to get herself and her family away from the cartel.

She had approached you some weeks ago, begging and pleading for your help fleeing the country. In exchange she had offered the one thing of value she had - intel. Positioned close enough to the organisation to gather information, Sophia was also removed enough not to attract attention or suspicion. Hell, she said none of Escobar’s men even acknowledged her existence unless they wanted a drink, a smoke, or to paw at something during their visits. 

It seemed like a perfect opportunity for everyone involved. Or, it had, should you say… now, staring at your watch as the minutes ticked by with no sign of the young girl, you began to suspect something was wrong. 

God damn it. 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to fight the urge to radio out to the surveillance van positioned further down the street. There was no need to get them worked up yet, not when Sophia could just be running late… the last thing you needed was Javi or Steve getting antsy and pulling you out, blowing your cover and fucking up the raid you had planned for later tonight. 

No, those two had always been protective over you, long before you and Javi had started seeing each other romantically. It was frustrating, even if a little flattering at the same time, to know you had two such loyal friends and partners. 

They never held the fact that you were a woman against you, but then again they’d never had cause to. Now? Now you were a walking stereotype. A liability. A pregnant woman carrying her partner’s child whilst trying to run ops in the middle of a war zone… They’d pull you out of the field so fast it would make your head spin - something you had worked too hard to risk. Not until you were certain… certain it was what you wanted, hence your decision to keep things quiet for now. 

In fact, the only person who was aware that something was different about you was Connie, and that was because you had needed her help to confirm it. 

What with her job at the clinic, and being Steve’s wife, Connie was the best option when it came to confirming your fears, rather than trying to risk a visit to a local doctor - one who was likely to talk to whoever would ask, no matter whether it was one of Escobar’s men, or even someone who could feed it back to the embassy. 

No. Connie was your only choice, being both discreet and loyal to a fault - something you had never been more grateful for than now.  That, and she was your closest friend outside of the office. There was no one else you wanted more to be holding your hand whilst you waited to find out if this was actually happening. 

She had also been more than willing to talk you through your options afterwards, promising to honour your wishes no matter what you decided - even if she kept trying to convince you to tell Javi. 

"He deserves to know," she'd sighed softly, holding your hand and wiping away your tears. "He's kind and he loves you. All he'd want is to support you. You know that."

If only you could be so sure of that.

Javi? A baby? The two things didn't seem compatible, even if he did have a soft spot for Olivia, but she wasn't his... a biological child that was yours to raise, protect, and nurture... it was a whole other situation - and given that Javi thought coffee was a food group, a situation you weren't sure he was ready for yet.

Hell, you weren't even sure you were ready for this yet, which was probably why you hadn’t made any decision other than to just carry on working like nothing was wrong until such a time as the answer came to you... if it came to you... or perhaps the universe would answer it for you... 

Why else would you be risking your neck here in this warehouse, late at night, distracting yourself and delaying the inevitable moment where you’d be forced to chose?

After all, inaction was still action in this kind of situation. You knew you couldn't keep putting off the conversation forever, but that didn't make it any easier to know what to say or do in this situation.  

Thankfully, that was the moment you were startled from your spiralling thoughts as footsteps echoed across the room. 

You recognised the sound as someone came in, closing the squeaking rusted door you’d already entered through. 

“Sophia?”

You watched as the girl crept from the darkness, nervously tugging at her sleeves. 

You paused.  

As timid as Sophia had seemed previously when you met one another, you still felt something was off as she moved towards you. It was like the energy rolling off of her was wrong... sending shivers running down your spine as you felt your fingers twitch towards the gun sat at your side. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, over here,” you called, “I was starting to think you weren't going to show.” 

It was like watching a rabbit, twitching, with wide eyes, like she was about to bolt at the first sound. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry? What for?” you asked. “It’s ok. You could have called to say you were going to be late but-” 

Then you heard it. 

The click as the gun was cocked behind you. 

Without even turning you knew you had been betrayed. 

“Sophia,” you sighed, trying not to let the fury show on your face as you stared at the sobbing girl in front of you. After all, you couldn’t really blame her had you been in her situation. You should have expected it, actually. The call had been far too easy and the information too tantalising for the DEA to pass up. 

Still, that didn’t change the fact you were now here… stuck… held at gun point by the two men who had entered the room when you weren’t looking. 

Shit. 

You really had been distracted tonight and now you were paying the price for your mistakes. 

“I’m sorry.”

The apology was barely audible through the girl’s tears. 

“Me too, kid. Me too.” 

You watched as one of the men kept his gun trained on you, whilst the other marched over to Sophia and shoved the wad of cash into her hand before pushing her out the door in a clear message to beat it. They had what they wanted, as did Sophia - she had her life and her freedom, for now. 

Who knew how long it would actually last... 

Hell, who knew how long you’d last given this sudden change of events? 

The door had barely shut behind her when the man who’d given her the cash turned back towards you. 

“So, you’re the one who’s been snooping around? Trying to get our girl to talk?” he teased, his tone cold and mocking. “Don’t you know what happens to little girls who stick their noses in places it don’t belong?”  

The threat was clear as he grinned, his friend walking around you so that you could see the gun held in his hand, pointing directly at you. 

Your own gun was snatched from its position at your side, tucked instead into the man's jeans for safe keeping.

“Well, lucky for you, the boss wants to know what you know, and where you got that intel from,” your captor continued, his tone oozing with a sick satisfaction. “If you tried to make a rat out of Sophia, who knows who else you’ve got squeaking away in your gringo ear. So, you see, we can’t just kill you, else I’d be pulling this trigger right here and now… but when we’re through with you, you’ll wish I had.” 

You couldn't help it. You flinched as the man nearest you stepped closer, gesturing towards the door with his gun in an obvious signal. 

“Move,” he hissed. “Now.” 

Shit. 

You take a deep breath, trying to remind yourself that you weren’t alone. That your comms were still in place, and that there were still men positioned outside the warehouse. The moment you emerged, with two men holding you at gun point they would be surrounded. 

But would that be before or after they had the chance to pull the trigger and plant a bullet in the back of your skull? 

You’d seen enough of these hostage situations to know how they went down, to know that the hostage didn’t always make it out… the directive was to remove the sicarios - they were the priority. 

Not you. 

It was that thought that made your stomach roll as you began to move, legs shaking so hard you weren’t sure you could stand. 

"Where are we going?” you stammered, you mouth so dry you can hardly form the words. 

“Shut up, bitch," the thug sneered, shoving you forward. You could practically taste his contempt. “Keep walking unless you want me to shoot you in the leg and drag you myself.”  

You knew he’d do it too. He seemed the type to be cruel - to get off on inflicting pain and exercising what tiny slither of power he had. 

However, you also knew that letting these guys move you to a second location was as good as a death sentence. 

No, this was it. 

You had to make your final stand here and now if you even wanted a chance of making it out of this in one piece. 

It was for that reason you said a silent prayer before clenching your fists. Two on one… it wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t the worst odds either. You just had to be smart. After all, they needed you alive for now - they’d foolishly revealed that much. 

You could work with that. 

"You do realise that waiting outside those doors is a whole bunch of DEA agents, right?" you jabbed. "You walk outside with that gun pointed at me and you're dead."

"Shut up, bitch," the man with the gun snapped back sharply. "You think we're gonna fall for that? Nice try. Now, get moving."

"Hey, it's your funeral."

"I said shut up-"

"Dude, maybe we should go out the other way," his colleague interjected, the hesitation exactly what you'd been hoping for. "We can get the van round out the back, off the road and out of sight of any police."

"No."

You took the distraction as your cue.

The moment you felt the gun drop from your back you were on them, throwing the weapon upwards and sending the resulting shot up into the ceiling.

Your foot was next, smashing up between the man’s legs in a well rehearsed manoeuvre, followed by your elbow slamming into the other man's face, stopping him before he could reach for you.

The few precious seconds you'd bought yourself were all you needed to make a run for it, bolting back towards the doors up ahead.

Your fingers reached up, squeezing the switch on the side of the mic you had taped under your collar, ready to call for back up. 

But you never got the chance. 

Your fingers had just grazed the switch when you felt something collide with you from behind. A great weight that sent you crashing down onto the ground, hard. 

You tried to roll over, only to be met with a fist slamming into your face, too fast for you to even try and block him. 

The ferocious assault caused your head to bounce off of the concrete with a sickening thud. Pain exploded, your eyes filling with tears, and your vision blurred as the shock of the impact resonated, unleashing agony that pulsed through your skull. 

A silent cry escaped your lips, full of shock and pain. 

Shit.

Your assailant jumped off of you, following through with a swift, vicious kick to your ribs, knocking all the air from your lungs with the force of the blow. 

Scrunching your eyes tightly, you tried to fight the nausea and pain, to fight for a precious breath. 

“Stop,” you begged, hating how weak you sounded. However, something inside you roared, an urge to fight taking over you - but not just for yourself, but for the future that was growing inside of you... a future you hadn’t been sure of until right now…

Now, as you stood to lose it. 

It suddenly didn’t matter if Javi wanted this baby or not, or if he would be happy or terrified or disappointed. What mattered was that he would never get the chance to be any of those things, to decide for himself, to have the opportunity to choose what life he wanted. 

He needed to know… you couldn’t die here, without him knowing… 

“Stop, please!" you pleaded. "I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant!” 

Without even thinking, you curled your legs in tight, huddling into a ball and trying to block your stomach before he could land the next blow. 

However, it never came.

“Hold on!” your assailant’s partner scolded. "Not here. The boss wants her alive for now.” 

He paused. "The bitch deserves it!"

Then you heard it - the door slamming open. The thundering of boots running across concrete towards you. Orders barked in Spanish. 

You watched as your assailants silently gaped in horror, raising their hands above their heads as they were suddenly surrounded by figures... 

Why was it so hard, all of a sudden, to make things out?

It was hard to distinguish one sound from another, to see anything beyond colours and shapes as your world began to dissolve. The warehouse was replaced by a dark haze that seemed determined to consume you no matter how hard you fought against it.

“Y/N!” 

Javi’s voice echoed in your ears, a swirling sound full of panic, yet it somehow made you feel calm... safe...

“Y/N!” 

“Javi,” you croaked, as you felt yourself slipping into the darkness.  

Your body had turned into cement. 

That was the first thought that crossed your muddled mind as you felt the beginnings of consciousness returning to you. It was as if every part of you had decided to refuse to respond to your demands, held down by invisible weights. 

You'd been knocked unconscious once or twice before in your lifetime, but this grogginess was a first... an uncomfortable and disconcerting force, trapping you on the brink of the land of living.

You had no choice but to lay there, helplessly listening to the sounds around you, each becoming clearer as your faculties gradually returned

Machinery beeping.

Footsteps passing in the hallway. 

Voices caught in frantic conversations. 

"- Javi, calm down. I know. I'm the one who should be feeling guilty, letting her walk in there by herself." "We all thought the meet was secure, Murphy. How could we know she was gonna turn on us? And Y/N, the crazy, stupid - Why didn't she tell me?" 

Javi’s voice was full of anguish.

"Dude, calm down. Y/N’s the strongest person I know. She’s alive and gonna wake up. You heard the doctor, the swelling in her head is down and she’s going to wake up. That’s all that matters now. You can discuss the baby, and what you’re going to do, later."

The baby? You caught the words, a weird rush of relief flooding through you at the confirmation that your baby was alright... 

Thank god. 

And Javi knew? 

That thought echoed over and over in your mind as you felt yourself beginning to fade back into the darkness from which you had come. 

Stubble softly scraping the back of your hand was the first thing you noticed when you finally came to. That, and the pressure of someone squeezing your hand tightly. 

You knew the grip without even opening your eyes. You'd felt it often enough, the rough calloused hand holding yours, brushing against you, touching every single part of you... "You've got to wake up, honey," came an also familiar sound, luring you ever closer to the land of the living.

You'd know that voice anywhere, considering it had become your constant companion. It was the first thing you heard every morning and the last thing you heard at night.

"Please," it continued. "I'm so sorry, ok? Sorry for everything - for making you feel like you couldn't tell me about this. Just... shit... I need you to wake up, cause I fucking love you and I can't- can't lose you-"

Somehow, that was all it took. Those words flipped a switch inside you, allowing you to find the strength to peel your eyes open and register the full extent of your surroundings - including the man sat beside you.

Turning your head, you were greeted with a sight so perfect a part of you thought you must still be dreaming.

Javi.

Sat next to you, you realised he had your hand pressed to his cheek, his lips pressing soft kisses to it in between words.  

He didn't seem to notice the fact that you had stirred, so lost in his desperation. It was probably why he jumped, flinching as you reached over with your free hand to run your fingers through his hair.

"I love you too," you croaked in greeting.

“Y/N?”

Javi had never seemed so fragile as he did then. Eyes wide, he looked nothing like the ice-cold DEA agent you often glimpsed in the field. Instead, he looked like one good gust of wind would send him toppling to the ground had he not already been sat down in one of the plastic chairs that you had come to recognise from your repeated visits.

“Javi, where - where am I?" you continued softly, "What happened? What day is it?" "Sssh. It’s alright. It's almost Saturday. You've been unconscious for over twenty-four hours, even if it felt fucking longer.” His hands were warm as they cupped both sides of your face, guiding you towards him as he kissed you like his life depended on it. 

It was as if neither of you could get close enough to one another, you curling yourself eagerly into his side, breathing in the soft scent of his cologne and cigarette smoke.

“I... I’m sorry,” you choked, the words tumbling out of you before you could even realise what you were saying. “It was my fault. I should have known that something was wrong-”

“No,” Javi scolded, tensing at your guilt-ridden tone. "No, don't say that. Don't - don't do that to yourself. This isn't on you. It's a fuck up - a colossal fuck up, yes, but one we didn't see coming. We vetted the source. She was good. We cleared the meet with Carillo and the Ambassador... there was no way we could have prevented this."

"But-?"

"Carino. Stop. Please," he begged. Yes, Javi actually begged and it was enough to stun you into silence. "I just... talking about the meet? I honestly don't care about all that right now. The who, why how of what happened will still fucking be there later... but right now? Now, you're here... you're alive... and you're finally awake."

His tone melted your heart, making you somehow wish you could absorb every ounce of pain he was experiencing. It hurt you, to know you had caused the man you loved such agony. In a way, you'd had a slightly easier time of it, being the one to sleep through the after math of this disaster. He had had the hardest job; waiting, watching, and worrying.

You knew that pain yourself, having experienced it firsthand since your arrival in Colombia. You'd never forget how it had nearly torn you apart, waiting as Javi had been admitted after a close shave in a shoot-out.

Those two days had felt like an eternity. Two days with no news... just sitting and waiting and praying.

“I ... I could hear you, by the way.”

“What?”

“I heard you,” Javi repeated softly, snapping you out of your head and solidly back into the present, “over the radio. I heard what you said when those assholes hit you - about the baby-”

You froze.

Despite knowing that this moment would inevitably come, now that it was finally upon you, you suddenly wished you were back in the realm of unconsciousness you'd just come from.

"Javi," you began nervously, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, don't be mad at me-"

“-Well, too bad, sweetheart because I am mad. So mad," he exclaimed sharply, "I'm mad at you for not telling me, for putting yourself in danger like that, knowing you're pregnant. I’m not saying you had to decide to keep it or whatever, but it would have been fucking nice to be asked. To know. To not find out after you put yourself on the line." "I- I didn't know what else to do."

“And I’m sorry for making you feel like that,” Javi added swiftly, his tone softening with every passing moment.

It was like watching the air deflating out of a tire, the fear and the rage dissipating almost as quickly as it had first appeared. 

“I get it, why you may not have wanted to tell me... I’m mad at myself that you felt you had to do this alone. I thought you’d trust me enough to know I’d support you, no matter what you decided.”

“I do, Javi,” you sobbed, unable to prevent a tear from escaping your eye. “I just... I got scared and I panicked. I think keeping it secret was more my way of pretending this wasn't real, that I could act like it wasn't happening, that I had more time.”

Silence. 

“Javi, please say something. Anything...” 

"What's there to say? You're pregnant." He shrugged in a desperate attempt to look nonchalant, but you could see the truth. Underneath it all, Javier Peña was utterly terrified.

It didn't matter how much he tried to hide it behind that calm swagger of his, and the crossing of his arms over his chest - you knew him better than anyone. You'd seen him at his very best and his very worst. Such was the lot of living in a war zone, let alone falling in love in one.

Fighting the urge to let your tears escape your burning eyes, you reached over and took his hands in yours. To your relief, he didn't fight you. Instead, he lifted his gaze, his eyes wide and telling you all you needed to know without even asking.

He had obviously spent the last 24 hours mulling the entire situation over and over in his head since the moment he had first heard the news. Lord knows he'd probably imagined each and every possible outcome for the future... your future... "Y/N, I don't know what to say or do. I never even thought about being a parent."

"Me either..." you confessed, relieved to finally be able to say the words aloud to the man who'd needed to hear them the most. "I mean, could the timing be better? yes. I never pictured something like this happening so early on, but it has and now we have a choice to make. To have longer, just the two of us... Or to become a family of three, but either way we'll work it out together. I will love you unconditionally, no matter what you choose but you're my partner, Javi. You have a say in this too. We're a team."

"Y/N," Javi whispered, his voice pained. "I ... I thought I'd lost you... back there in that warehouse, seeing you lying on the ground, knowing I could have lost you, lost this - it was all my worst fears realised." Gently taking your head between his hands, he wiped the tears away. "I love you, too," he declared. "And... if you want this, with me, then I'll try to be a good father."

It was as if a weight had been taken off of you. To know that he was with you, no matter what... that was all you'd ever wanted.

"That's all I can ask for, Javi," you whimpered, failing to hide the playful smile that fell into place, "because let's face it; you don't have much choice anyway, because I'm not going anywhere."

Javi's own signature smirk tugged at his lips. “Good, because I can't lose you... I can't be left with just Murphy. Can you imagine? We'd drive ourselves into an early grave.” 

"Javi!"

It felt blissful for you both the be able to laugh again. To joke like nothing had changed between you, even if it had - for the better, ultimately.

“Speaking of... Where’s Steve?” 

Javi paused. “Went with Connie to get coffee - I feel I should mention that Steve’s pissed you didn't tell him too, you know.”

You groaned. You weren't surprised. “I’ll add him to the list of apologies. Do you think making him and Connie godparents would make it better?” 

“Woah there,” Javi scoffed, the beginning of a smile tugging at his lips. “One day at a time, querida. One day at a time.” 

[meaningofaeons]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ unbearable

⊹ character(s) - sampo koski ⊹ word count - 1.7k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, angsty, hurt/comfort?? possibly slightly ooc sampo sorry </3, unedited

ugh I rlly couldn't help myself making my first work on this account sampo (tho I really did consider svarog LMAO he's grown on me a lot) but I hope you all like!! this is like. my redebut onto tumblr writing hehe ^w^

Surely, there couldn't be a more unbearable man on this planet — no, maybe in the entire universe — than Sampo Koski.

Perhaps he had his good sides, though, you would find yourself musing every once in a while.

Sure, he was a filthy conman, always tunnel-visioned on his next profit. Not much consideration for strangers aside from their pockets, not to mention that terrible habit of his to spam anyone whose contact he could get his hands on with scam ads and malware links he was paid a pretty sum to spread. Even his own 'friends' wouldn't be spared from his constant phishing attempts.

Maybe he did get a bit too reckless if the job was especially large, especially profitable, and maybe he did sometimes ditch just before the bill at a restaurant would arrive, and maybe he did piss off a group of automatons, causing them to chase you two to the edge of town until —

You sighed irritably, pinching your temple as you tried to refocus your thoughts.

In spite of all that, Sampo did have his benefits, you surmised.

He had ended up dropping in at just the right time during that automaton chase, even though you'd assumed mere moments earlier that his disappearance from your side meant he had run for the hills and left you behind. You avoided a lot worse injuries thanks to him that day.

And yeah, he did stop that miner from scamming you out of a good chunk of your paycheck that one time — albeit at the cost of another group of naïve victims who he led the man directly to. 'The only one who can swindle you out of all your pocket money is me!' he had claimed, and promptly received a beating over the head.

But once you opened your eyes again, beholding the sight of Sampo Koski sat on his knees before you in shame, twiddling his thumbs as he glanced to the side with a guilty smile...

You weren't quite sure his positive aspects could completely abate your wrath.

On this very day, the man before you had asked you to come with him to Rivet Town to assist with a 'very important business discussion'. You, foolishly, decided to trust him again.

'Give him the benefit of the doubt,' you'd thought. 'Maybe this time it's actually something honest. Maybe this'll really help him.'

Rather than a discussion, though, the foxlike man had instead led you right to a large group of automatons.

'It'll be fine,' he'd said, shrugging. 'Just need some scrap metal for a client! It's technically still a business discussion, we're just discussing with our weapons rather than our mouths!'

So he'd left you to dismantle the automaton pile, until another group of very much active robots had spotted you two and barreled towards you for vengeance.

The man hadn't even noticed in your collective fleeing that one of the bots had managed a sizable gash on your leg, hindering your escape until the two of you finally stumbled back into town.

Of course, the filthy scammer escaped unscathed himself.

Just recalling the incident sent you into further distress as the pain ached in your leg — you hadn't bothered to get it treated by Natasha yet, too focused on giving your 'business partner' a piece of your mind as soon as possible.

Sampo didn't dare speak a word himself. Your stormy expression was enough for him to keep his trap shut tight, too afraid of your mood to risk worsening it.

He had really done it with his latest stunt — a little 'prank gone wrong', as he put it, until he saw just how upset you were — and he knew it, too.

"I just..." Green eyes immediately shot over towards you as you began to speak, but your words only cut off into a heavy sigh, leading you to slump into a chair in the corner of your dingy apartment. Seeing you kneading your forehead with a look of exhaustion more so than anything else, the sly man took his chances with a conversation.

"L-Like I said, Y/N, it was all in good fun!" he laughed anxiously, feeling his palms begin to sweat. "I wasn't actually going to leave you to get all the parts by yourself, or ditch you when the bots came running, or anything —"

"Quiet."

Your voice shut him up once again.

Sampo was exceedingly nervous today. Usually, you'd just get angry with him, expression twisting into that cute, flushed pout that he'd gotten so fond of.

You'd hit him over the head, scold him loudly, drag him by the ear... but you were never silently angry. Not like this.

"Does it really make you happy?" your voice echoed through the room at last, your face still hidden beneath your exasperated hands. "Is it really that fun? Are you getting a good laugh at my expense?"

Sampo's smile, though nervous, fell.

"You know, Sampo Koski," His spine straightened at his full name being used, rare shame filling his cheeks. He felt like he was being scolded like a toddler. "You always pull something or other over me. Usually, it's bearable. But it's gotten to be too much."

"Y-Y/N —"

"I choose to offer you my trust in so many ways, and you just...!" Your hands clutched onto your hair in complete vexation. "You always take advantage of it! Always! Even when I try to help you, or give you the benefit of the doubt, try to convince myself you're being honest for once!"

You peered through your fingers at him with one eye.

"I can count on two hands the amount of times you've shockingly come through for me, and yet, I don't even have enough hairs on my head to equal the amount of times you've swindled or betrayed me! This is the last straw, Sampo Koski!"

"Y/N, l-listen —"

"I'm going to Nat's."

His mouth fell agape as you just got up and began walking towards the door as you'd said.

"Wait!"

"What?" you sneered as the man half-rose to his feet, frozen by your glare. "Worried that I'll tattle to her and you'll get another earful to ignore? Don't worry. She knows that every injury I get is your doing, so she's going to find out one way or another."

"...Injury?" Sampo asked, dumbfounded. You raised a brow, thoroughly ticked as you turned and walked away again.

It was then that he noticed the blood soaking your pants, the torn material of your clothes sticking uncomfortably to the gnashed skin. Your limp was more pronounced than he'd like to admit, considering he clearly hadn't noticed it prior to now.

The door slamming brought the man back to his senses, and he immediately pursued you, grabbing onto your wrist before you could make it ten steps away from your home.

"Let go, Sampo! While I'm still being nice!"

"I'm sorry!"

"I don't want to hear it! I —" Upon processing his words, you turned, a look of mild horror washing over your features as you raised a brow again. "...Eh?"

Sure enough, the Sampo Koski had just said the words 'I'm sorry' in a tone that sounded more genuine than anything he'd ever pushed past his lips — that is, if his souring expression was anything to go by.

He'd never said that to you before, not in the several incidents before this, so you certainly hadn't expected it now.

He looked gutted.

"I should've — I shouldn't've — Urgh..." Sampo scratched the back of his neck. You narrowed your eyes.

"Don't tell me this is just you being too afraid of Nat to let me get treated by her."

"No, no, listen," he waved his hands around wildly. "I'm... sure, I'm afraid of Miss Natasha, plenty afraid, in fact! But... being real honest, I'm way more afraid of you walking out on me for good."

His head bowed, and he looked completely downtrodden at this point.

"Y-You've been better to me than most, and I guess... I don't know. I just thought you'd always be there, sorta... Which was wrong of me to assume!" Sampo's speech was jumping all over the place as he hastily attempted to keep your attention, worried a single wrong word would send you walking away again. "Very wrong! I took advantage of ya a lot, and... Well, I'm sorry."

You stood there in silence for a good, long while.

It was plenty of time to make even Sampo nervous. You couldn't deny reveling in the way his fingers twitched anxiously, his eyes darting to you and back to the floor as he awaited your response — or lack of one — to his apology.

Finally, you sighed again. A very long, drawn-out, wrongdoing-emphasizing sigh.

"Well, I assume you can't promise that this will never happen again."

"Heheh... Well, if we're being really, really honest..." he simpered, not meeting your eye. "I can at least promise that I'll never let you get hurt on my watch again, though! Not ever! Koski's honor!"

The comical way he put a fist to his chest, as though mimicking a Silvermane Guard, put a reluctant smile on your face. Finally, you snorted out a laugh, bringing his infamous smile back again as well. This time, however, it was more relieved than mischievous.

"I really hate you sometimes," you murmured, pulling him into a hug as you buried your face in his shoulder. "But I'll let it slide. Last time, Sampo Koski. Don't you mess up again."

"I won't!" he shouted, perhaps a bit too eager. Still-shaky hands found your figure as he gently returned your embrace, something a bit more tender in his eyes when you pulled away. "I won't."

"Fine."

"Now, then, why don't we mosey back on into your house and get that leg patched up, eh?"

"Sorry, Mr. Koski," you teased, folding your hands behind your back as you continued your trek towards Natasha's clinic. "As much as we just shared a heartfelt moment of emotional growth, I don't trust your shoddy patchwork first-aid, not for something that hurts this bad. You'll just have to deal."

Sampo trailed after you like a puppy, rubbing his hands together like the shady businessman he was, familiar swindling smirk back already — though it grew more anxious by the minute as you neared Natasha's.

"Ah, come on! Can't we work out a deal? A bargain?! I said I won't let you get hurt again! We're both reasonable people, right...?"

"Y/N...? Y/N, come on!"

[formulapookie]

I FINISHED IT

under the cut to read on tumblr, here for Ao3

Giving all of myself to you rosquez, 4.8k words

he couldn’t fucking believe his eyes.

out of every goddamn person at that party Marc had to go and talk to Dovizioso? 

the one guy who had managed to be in Marc’s bed while they were on no speaking terms?

he had even thought it was an uncalculated event, they just bumped into each other and talked like normal people.

but as soon as he met Marc’s eyes he knew it wasn’t the case.

Marc had done that intentionally, he just had to be fucking bratty every change he got.

His eyes were filled with lust, he wanted to see how far he could get before Vale came to him and snatched him from Dovi’s side to bring him back home and fuck him stupid.

Vale tried to warn him, to behave until the party was over, it was just three hours more couldn’t Marc be calm for once?

no.

He had to be a trouble and get Vale riled up and jealous in the midst of a party held by Ducati of all fucking things.

The breaking point for Vale was seeing Marc put a hand on Dovi’s bicep and squeeze it. Fucking. Squeeze it. 

Vale sent a message to Marc telling him to get in the car while he headed out, giving the excuse of being tired because he was old when his boys asked him where he was fleeing to.

He hoped they buyed it because he couldn’t exactly tell them “I’m going back home because Marc cannot behave like a normal person and I have to fuck him into next sunday”

Once Vale was finally outside he could already spot Marc leaning on his car, waiting for him with a knowing smirk.

the little shit.

Vale unlocked the car and got in without uttering a word, Marc following him and still smiling during the whole drive, neither of them saying a single thing, it wasn’t a necessity, they both knew what this night promised to them.

Vale focused his gaze on the street in front of his eyes, hands so tight around the steering wheel his knuckles were turning white, the outline of the veins on his arms clearly visible even in the dark night in Borgo Panigale.

It awakened something almost animalistic in Marc, he imagines those hands being around his throat, stopping the flow of oxygen and getting him lightheaded, just to release their grip and move down to his dick, teasing him until he couldn’t anymore.

He kept staring at Vale’s hand, biting his bottom lip and lightly brushing one of his own hands on his bulge, who was now everything but invisible.

Obviously Vale noticed, but he didn’t give in to the younger’s temptations to have him stop the car and rail him into the backseat.

Those were the longest 15 minutes of his life, having Marc make pretty eyes at him and even soft whimpers a few times, but he was set on punishing him for how he acted during the party and if meant he had to restrain himself for 15 minutes then so be it.

Vale doesn’t speak to him, not even once they arrive at the Hotel they were staying in, and Marc begins to get worried.

Did he push too much? Was it not part of their game to Vale? 

At that point they are in front of Vale’s hotel room, he looks at the older man swiping the card and the light from the door turning green, and before he can begin to apologize for his behavior because he really thinks he went overboard with it he is pushed against the wall by Vale, who goes directly for his throat, biting and licking it like a starved man.

And Marc is just deliciously easy for Vale when he acts like that, his whimpers becoming more and louder with each scratch of the man’s teeth on his throat.

He is so relieved he didn’t go overboard with the teasing tonight because the last thing he wants is for Vale to think he has other men in mind except for him, when actually Vale was the only thing with a permanent residency in his brain.

“Why do you always have to behave like a slut when we’re in public? Am I not fucking you enough? Because if that’s the problem we can solve it tonight, I think this will be enough for a while, I don’t think you’re getting out of bed tomorrow with your own legs”

Jesus. He doesn’t have time to answer because Vale tilts him and presses himself against him. He can feel Vale’s cock against the curve of his ass, making him lose his mind a little.

“Vale please” a dark chuckle comes from behind, as Vale licks a strip up his neck, making him shiver and whimper once again. 

“You are still demanding? After what you pulled earlier? I don’t think it’s really your place to demand things right now is it?”

Oh God Marc likes so much where this is heading. 

It is going to be one of those nights where Vale takes complete control of the situation, reducing Marc to nothing more than a begging whore. 

He just lets out a high pitched moan and presses himself more on Vale, feeling his own dick twitching from excitement.

He feels one of Vale’s hands tugging on his hair and pulling his head back, with just enough force to still be arousing. 

He feels hungry lips attacking his throat once more, this time leaving deep blue hickeys all over it.

Once he is satisfied with how he practically painted Marc’s throat with his marks Vale lets go of him, separating their bodies and turning around, beginning to take off his clothes.

“Get on the bed. I am gonna grab a few things and I want you to be naked and on your knees when I come back”

It’s almost pathetic the way Marc is so quickly obeying to those commands, stripping off every piece of clothing he has and sitting on the bed on his knees like he’d been told.

He’s not even embarrassed anymore of how fast Vale gets to him, how much of a hold his words have on his brain and body.

He stays there for maybe a minute when Vale finally comes back to the bedroom, carrying a bag full of things he immediately recognises.

Fuck.

He didn’t think he brought their toys along, afterall it was just a two day trip, but it gets him even more excited than he was before, his bulge starting to get painful.

Vale gets on the bed, still fully clothed, and looks at Marc, looking for any sign of discomfort or doubt, but the only things he finds are lust and need for whatever Vale decides to go for.

“Get your hands behind your back, you’re not gonna be able to touch yourself or me, got it? And since you can’t seem to act good when needed I’m gonna tie them up ok?”

Marc nods, his dick twitching again 

“Tell me if it’s ok Marc, I’m not doing anything unless you talk”

“Yes yes Vale please it’s ok”

and Vale smirks, he loves how easily he can get Marc to act all obedient in a bunch of seconds, it gives him confidence, even more than the one he already has.

Vale grabs a set of blue ropes from the bag, they’re not a lot, just enough to secure Marc’s hands together so that they don't move, and positions himself next to Marc, tying his hands together and making sure he’s not going to free himself at any point.

“Remember, it’s red to stop and yellow to slow down, green to go on. If-” 

“If I can’t talk it's one tap for ok, two for slowing down and three to stop, I know Vale”

The older man can’t help but smile, he likes this side of their relationship, especially the fact they’ve clear boundaries about it and would never actually hurt each other. 

“You’re really pretty like that Marc. It’s only a shame you always have to act like a whore and then I have to make you face consequences isn’t it?”

Marc lets out a soft sound, the mix of praise and degradation successfully getting at him, while Vale moves to be in front of him, unbuttoning his jeans.

“Unzip them for me, yes?” Marc shifts to be eye-level with Vale’s bulge, taking the zip in between his teeth and pulling it down, he can see the lineout of the man’s dick pressing against his boxers, and being the bastard he is he starts to mouth at it through the clothing, gettin Vale even harder.

It doesn’t last long, Vale grabs a handful of hair and pulls so that Marc is looking up at him, his eyes painted a dark blue, an aura of lust surrounding everything.

“Behave” and he lets go, Marc hurriedly taking off his boxers using his teeth again, and taking Vale’s cock an inch at a time.

He’s agonizingly slow at doing it and Vale’s patience has now reached its limit. 

He tentatively thrusts his hips up, fucking Marc’s mouth a little.

Marc looks up at him, letting go of his cock to answer the provocation.

“Green” and levels himself once more, opening his mouth.

Vale then grabs Marc’s head and starts fucking his mouth at a regular pace, feeling him gag from time to time and his saliva coating his dick, moaning around it to let the vibrations get to Vale.

He picks up the pace, Marc letting out obscene noises everytime it hits the back of his throat, his hands gripping onto nothing.

His eyes start to water and when he looks up Vale can see tears forming in the corners of his eyes, looking at him with a deep desire written in them.

“You can swallow for me, yes? Put that pretty mouth on silent for once and get it to do what it was made to do”

Marc moans, shivering because the position he’s in lets his cock rub between his thighs and the sheets, and Vale talking to him like that just gets him so excited it’s almost embarrassing.

Vale thrusts a few more times, sloppier than before, breathing harder, and finally comes down Marc’s throat, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Marc is pouting now, looking at Vale with demand, a drop of cum still on the corner of his mouth, shiny and inviting.

He still hasn’t kissed Vale, he wants to, longs for those lips to be pressed against his, but Vale’s mischievous smirk suggests to him that’s not going to happen.

It’s basically psychological torture to him, the impossibility of feeling Vale that way, and Vale fucking knows, knows that for how much he can punish him by edging him to death or overstimulate him until he can’t even remember his name the thing he’s going to miss more is that.

He’s manhandled on his back, a pillow under his hips to make access for Vale easier, who before taking his shirt off goes up to Marc’s ear, biting on his lobe so lightly it’s almost imperceptible “Maybe next time you don’t act like a whore and I’ll let you kiss me, but until then I don’t think you deserve that at all”

Marc whines, but he can’t even get an answer out of himself as he feels his legs being pushed apart and onto Vale’s shoulders, who begins to lick at his thighs and bite down on the muscled flesh, leaving light marks every time he lets go.

But once he’s closer to where Marc needs him most it’s like a switch has been turned on, bites become stronger and also does the grip on his hips, keeping them pressed down against the pillow.

Vale starts biting down and then sucking on the meat of the boy’s thighs, this time leaving more and deeper signs of his presence, causing Marc to whine again, he knows Vale knows he wants more, but he can’t risk demanding and fucking his situation up even more.

“Don’t be impatient, be glad I chose to let you have me at all tonight, I could’ve simply have you suck me off and then leave you there, stay still for once and let me work ok? Don’t worry you’re going to wish you never teased me like that, I’m going to make you cum so much this room will smell like you for days”

Marc barely has time to register the words that Vale has his mouth on him, tongue pushing inside his hole and humming as if he’s tasting a delicious meal.

Marc becomes a moaning mess in a matter of seconds, head thrown on the bed, legs tensing up and his dick leaking an obscene amount of pre cum.

His hands are pressed between his back and the mattress, tied and unable to be freed, it makes him loose his mind because all he wants right now is to touch touch touch every inch of Vale’s body but he fucking can’t.

Vale doesn’t stop, he can feel Marc gettin more and more wet around his tongue and is fucking loving it. He loves reducing the other to this, and knows Marc likes it too, the masquerade of “the one always in control” he presents to the public is completely reversed once he gets to Vale’s bedroom, he gives up control as if it’s a glass of water, and Vale is so thirsty for it.

Marc is only a man after all and if you’ve got Valentino Rossi between your legs working you open with his tongue you can only hope to last enough not to make it embarrassing.

And he really tries to last, but the constant humming coming from the older tips him over the edge, making him moan in his delicious high pitched way, eyes closed and legs closing around Vale’s head as he finds his release, reducing his abs to a mess of sweat and white cum.

But Vale is not a forgiving man, and much less a liar, and he promised Marc the room is going to smell like him after he’s done, and he will honor his words.

He opens Marc’s legs again, fingers grazing his dick, already getting hard again at the slight friction he’s been given.

“Vale” comes out a broken moan, Vale smiles cruelly and keeps on teasing his boy’s dick, not really doing anything to make him feel good.

He then proceeds to lick all around the area where Marc wants him, hands running up and down his legs, feeling the smooth and waxed skin contrasting with his.

It takes him a good few minutes and a string of pleas from Marc to get him to actually take him in his mouth, playing with his head before swallowing him whole, feeling the twitch of the boy’s dick at the stimulation.

He’s quick in his movements, wanting to get Marc to come in the shortest amount of time possible, he has so many ideas on how to treat him after his stunt at the Gala he would need an entire week spent in bed to realize them all.

“Vale Vale I’m close please” Marc doesn’t actually know what he’s asking for, if it’s forgiveness, if it’s more, less, or whatever else it’s out there.

He just knows the only thing currently running in his mind is Valentino’s name, in bright blue letters, and the ghost of his hands wrapped around his neck, getting him light headed and on the edge, the longing for that specific sensation eating him whole, he wants -no, needs- that right now.

His hips move up, choking Vale in the process, but he acts like he doesn’t care, and grabs the lube he tossed in the lustful black box he took the ropes from, coating his hand while still sucking Marc off, and slowly pressing a finger inside, causing him to whine.

It’s not long before a second finger is pressed inside and that’s the breaking point for Marc, his control over sensations tumbling down as he comes for the second time, this one down Vale’s throat, who doesn’t waste time to add a third finger, scissoring them so good Marc is on the verge of crying.

“Oh crying already piccolo? We’ve just begun you know? I told you I’m gonna make sure you get a proper compensation for your actions, maybe this way you won’t act out that much”

Marc feels the punishing pace stopping for a second, horror swallowing him as Vale’s fingers leave him, just to lift his head up and feel them grabbing his hips to turn him onto his stomach, then filling him up again, while the other hand goes to tug at the ropes secured around his hands, making him shift on the bed, his cock getting stimulated once again.

His voice is now a useless tool, soft whispers reaching Vale thanks to a blessing, words spoken so quietly and mixed with moans they are incomprehensible.

“Speak up or I’ll leave you here like this”

“Fuck me Vale please” it all comes in a single breath and vale smirks, he loves gettin his boy to the point of begging to be fucked, always has, but how could someone blame him after all? 

He looks so helpless like this, bruises already making their appearance on his thighs and neck, ass practically pushed against him, all red and flustered, tears in his eyes.

“Mh since you’re begging I could think about that” the harshness in his voice feels cutting to Marc, who can’t help but cry a bit, Vale’s fingers now unmoving and not offering him a single bit of pleasure.

“Please please papi I promise you I won’t do it again pl-” he’s cut off by Vale tugging at the ropes around his hands and pulling him up against his chest, the borders of their own bodies dissolving.

“No no piccolo you shouldn’t lie you know that. We both know you’ll do it again because you just can’t help it can you? You need to be a brat and piss me off because you want me to rail you like this. you’ll probably be more of a slut next time, who are you gonna flirt with eh? Pecco? Bezz? You want me to take you apart like this right? you need it”

Vale’s words are met with a loud whine coming from Marc, who’s just so overwhelmed by the fact that Vale is right, he is going to act more like that just to gain this, he knows what buttons to push, he wants to know how far he can go.

“I swear you like calling me papi more than I like hearing you say it, you’re just made like this eh? Made for me”

If Marc could ascend to heaven right now he doesn’t think it would feel better than hearing those words because yes yes yes Vale is right again, he wants Vale to take control and loves to see how his expression changes when he calls him papi to tease him.

And on top of all Vale saying he’s made for him…oh God he could cum from that alone.

He feels some shuffling going on behind him and before he can make out what they are a soft but dark fabric is put on his eyes, impeding him from seeing anything.

“You look really good blindfolded you know? Should do that more often” and Marc would be extremely ok with it.

He’s hyper sensitive once he’s like that, all of his other senses stepping up and multiplying their sensitivity, reducing him to a pretty doll for Vale to play with.

“papi” he barely manages to say it he can already hear the cap of the lube bottle being flipped open and the liquid pouring from it.

Vale lets go of the restraints slowly, flipping Marc so that he’s facing him, even if he can’t see his eyes he knows they're full of lust for him.

He repeats the plea, more demanding this time, and Vale manhandles him onto his lap like he weighs nothing.

It always amazed Marc how Vale, despite being way thinner and lighter than him, could just move him around like that. 

“You either shut up and use that mouth to let me hear how desperate I can make you or I’ll have to gag you mh? and we know you like to be loud, so I would stick to begging if I was you”

God if this was what he was getting for acting like that he’ll do it every moment of his life. 

Marc tries to reply, but in that moment he feels Vale’s hands lifting him up and one of them guiding him on his dick, sinking him down on it so fucking slowly it should be labeled as torture.

Marc whimpers, and Vale can’t help but smile at it because how can he not when he has perfection between his hands?

He thrusts his hips up, gaining a muffled sound from Marc, who’s biting his lip trying to keep a bit of dignity.

Vale starts moving with a steady pace, holding MArc’s hips in his hands and running his fingers around them, just because he knows how sensitive Marc gets once he’s blindfolded, and wants to break him. He deserves it after all. And he knows Marc enjoys it, both the teasing and the punishment part.

“God please I want to kiss you, please just once, please Vale” he sounds desperate, and he is, he dreads for Vale’s lips on his, he feels like he can’t survive without them.

“If you cum again while riding me I’ll let you kiss me, what do you say mh?”

“Yes yes I’ll do it just promise me”

Even through the blindfold Vale knows tears are forming in Marc’s eyes, and if it wasn’t for the oversensitiveness he would’ve already removed it.

“Then come on Marc, give me a show”

And Marc is eager, he wants those lips on his at all costs, so he adjusts himself to be a little bit more comfortable and starts bouncing on Vale’s dick with a regular pace, but with no support other than his legs and Vale not helping it’s fucking difficult.

He tries so hard to do it on his own but after a little he feels his thighs giving out, soft pleas escaping his mouth.

“Want me to help you, bimbo? What is it you can’t cum on your own?”

Marc cries, he needs it so fucking bad and needs Vale to take him apart right now to feel their mouths against one another.

“Didn’t hear you tesoro, what did you say?” Vale is a dickhead and Marc knows it, he’s just as hungry for this as Marc, but he has control of it, he’s the one guiding this whole thing.

“Please help me I need you papi” he goes all in, tries to sum up begging and submission and Vale’s really fucking strong daddy kink to get him to do something and it works.

Vale grips on his hips and starts moving them up and down, meeting his thrusts, Marc just becoming a babbling mess, useless words coming out of his mouth without a string of coherent thought.

“You feel so good fuck, nobody can have you like this eh? Just me fuck” Vale is groaning and biting at Marc’s collarbone not to be too loud but he’s just as on edge as Marc, going crazy for how putty the boy now results in his hands, practically moldable to his will.

“You liked being a slut earlier? Do you think Dovizioso could make you feel like this? Or anyone else? Would you beg for their cock inside you like a pathetic whore?”

it’s so much, it’s so much teasing for poor Marc, he’s wetting the blindfold with tears, he can’t even answer without sobbing from overstimulation.

“No Vale only you -god- only you can fuck me this good no others, I only want you I swear I am good”

It’s so empowering for Vale, he feeds himself on it, it’s like oxygen to his brain.

Vale doesn’t want to lose the possibility of seeing Marc’s face when he cums, so he slowly moves one of his hands up to his head and unties the fabric, Marc blinks a few times to get adjusted and then directs his gaze towards Vale 

Marc’s dick stands hard between their bodies, sliding up and down Vale’s abs, precum smeared all over them.

He has tears in his eyes, so beautiful and lost, glossy and big, begging Vale for something, anything.

“Come on Marc cum for me, I want to see you while you do, you look so good” Marc whines again, more tears rolling down his cheeks as he tries to match Vale’s thrusts, then he finally cums, a lot,, all over Vale and himself, a loud moan interrupted by Vale’s lips on his, fucking finally, Vale is hungry for the kiss too, he bites at the boy’s lips, grabs the back of his neck with one hand while the other goes for his dick, pumping out the last drops of cum he still has in him.

Then he orgasms too, buried so deep inside Marc he loses contact with reality, filling him up so good Marc whimpers again, lips not leaving Vale’s.

It’s a mess of tongue and teeth and it feels so good he doesn’t want to let go.

It's the older one who breaks the kiss first, Marc trying to chase him.

“Fuck wish I could breed you, that way no one would get close to you right? I’d brand you with myself inside you”

And Marc is almost fainting because what the fuck he didn’t even know Vale could talk like that, not that much, but he loves it, he thinks about Vale making him his forever, and there’s nothing he’d want more than that.

Vale slides out of Marc gently, a huge contraposition from what he had been doing up until now.

And this is the good part, knowing that even during these moments Vale loves him and cares for him, getting up to go grab a water bottle and a snack, alongside a washcloth from the bathroom.

He slowly unties the ropes holding Marc’s wrists together, which are red and have deep signs on them and Vale worries for a moment.

“i told you if it hurted to tell me, this signs shouldn’t be this deep amore” he sounds genuinely worried, massaging his lover’s wrists with fondness and making sure he is ok

“They didn’t hurt too much, they were just a bit too tight, but I promise I wasn’t hurting Vale”

Vale doesn’t believe him, first because even if he didn’t feel his wrists hurting they most certainly were, given the high pain tolerance Marc has and the general disregard for what happens to his body, and secondly because he knows Marc wants to please him, and telling him it hurted would’ve made Vale feel bad.

“Let me get some massage oil, you're not sleeping until I see those marks getting better ok?”

Marc wants to answer but Vale’s words are more of an affirmation rather than a question, so he stays on the bed, waiting for the other to come back with all he needs.

“Thank you” it’s a whisper, and Vale barely catches it, but it makes him smile, how Marc still trusts him even after all he did.

Maybe that’s why he’s so soft now, he knows he’s hurt Marc in the past, a lot, and he wants him to know he’s never going to do that again.

He massages the boy’s wrists for a good ten minutes, until he can see the other drifting to sleep, giving him a pair of clean boxers and making sure he at least drinks some water.

Marc’s eyes are heavy with sleep, and Vale is not doing any better, but he wants to make sure the other falls asleep first, just to indulge on his beautiful face a bit more.

“Buonanotte amore”

“Notte”

Marc finally falls asleep, nestled in Vale’s chest, his face in the crook of the man’s neck.

Vale has a soft smile painted on his face while he strokes Marc’s hair, his eyes tracing every feature of his boy, asking himself how he got so lucky to have a second chance at life shaped like him.

“Giuro che ti sposo” he whispers before falling asleep as well, his thoughts drifting to the velvet box stored in his bedside table in Tavullia, a bright diamond ring shining inside it.

The promise of a lifetime together.

[tima7fa]

On A Colder Night Of The Year

A Young Boy Encounters A Fearsome Creature

A yuji and sukuna fan-fiction because there isn't enough about those two and I want to forget about the Mangas storyline. (First fan-fiction go easy on me guys.)

_______________________________________

"Heed my warning, Brat. Should I find you, I'll eat you. Is that clear?"

___________________________________________

Yuji discovered the village ablaze, the agonized shrieks sending chills down his spine. Blood and the acrid stench of charred flesh assaulted his senses - it was all too much to bear.

He had merely been fetching water from the nearby stream, as the villagers had instructed. It was not uncommon for them to send him on such errands, even in the biting cold of winter. They would cast him out whenever the opportunity arose. The bucket of water slipped from his grasp as he gazed upon the raging inferno before him.

Monster, freak, four-eyed, bastard child - he had heard it all before.

Yuji had been found by an elderly woman in the village one wintry night. She had taken him in and cared for him, and he had not been so reviled back then. At least when the peculiar markings upon his face were not prominent enough to inspire fear in the villagers. But now they had darkened into rich, crescent shapes. He knew not the reason for their existence. The kindly old woman who had sheltered him passed away on a cold winter's eve.

That was when the villagers' disdain for him had intensified. They no longer concealed their contempt. He did not mind, for at least he received sustenance and water in exchange for his labor. Even if the cramped cow shed in which he slept was less than ideal, it sufficed. Even if it reeked of waste, it was enough. Even if it was bitterly frigid in winter, it was sufficient for his needs.

Yuji felt a strange warmth for the first time since the old woman's demise - the cause being the conflagration consuming the village that had so despised him. Inexplicably, he found comfort in this heat, a peculiar sensation of solace.

But Yuji's attention was soon diverted by large footprints in the snow, accompanied by fresh blood. It was a captivating sight, for reasons he could not fathom. He followed the trail, though he should not have.

A four-armed being was feasting upon a woman he had once known from the village. It was perched upon a nearby hill, towering over the 7-year-old boy even in its seated posture. Its face was buried in the woman's flesh. Yuji stared at the severed head, eyes wide and mouth agape, the woman's tears dried but her blood still glistening upon her cheek.

Her kimono and undergarments were rent asunder, strewn across the snow. Yuji's gaze drifted to the four-armed entity. Its hair was the same peach hue as his own. He had never before encountered another possessing such distinct features, but this creature was surely no human.

"Brat. Do you have a death wish?"

A rough, deep voice sent shivers through him. The being was now regarding him, its face smeared with blood, a mask-like tattoo adorning half its visage. Most unsettling of all were its four crimson eyes.

"You should be fleeing by now," the entity growled, seemingly irked by Yuji's lack of response. "Since I am in a charitable mood today, I shall grant you ten seconds. Should I find you, I'll eat you. Understand?"

"Start running."

1

2

But Yuji remained frozen, captivated by the being's eyes. He felt the uncomfortable, rapid beating of his heart.

5

6

7

"You possess remarkable courage, Brat." the entity purred, amused, resting its upper elbows upon its thighs and cradling its cheek in its hand.

The entity regarded him intently, puzzled by the child's lack of movement. Was the boy not afraid? No, his trembling limbs and ragged breathing betrayed his terror. The child wore a simple, short kimono that left his arms and most of his legs exposed, his pinkish skin likely a result of the cold.

Something about the boy's unwavering gaze irked the being - normally, the child would be cowering on the ground, begging for mercy. "Time's up. Come here, since you seem so eager to be devoured." the curse huffed, gesturing with a long, bony finger. The being sighed, finding the situation rather tedious; a chase tonight might have been mildly entertaining, but this seemed less than promising.

"I won." The boy spoke,

"Hmm..?"

"I... didn't hide, so you technically didn't find me. I won," the child spoke up in a small, hoarse voice.

Sukuna stared at the boy, wide-eyed. Did this child truly outsmart him? He let out a booming laugh, genuinely amused and entertained by the young one's insight. "Alright, brat, I'll let you live. However, you must choose your fate: come with me to my shrine, or wander the streets and try to survive on your own. But if I find you again, I won't spare you, so choose wisely."

"Your shrine... does it have a condition?" Yuji asked suspiciously. Sukuna's grin widened as he tossed the woman's heart at the child's feet. "Eat that heart," he commanded.

The boy's brow furrowed, his lips pursing in distaste. "No, thank you," he replied, turning and fleeing.

Sukuna scoffed, wondering how long the child's frail body would last in the harsh elements. He picked up the heart, taking a bite and savoring the flavor. "Humans are foolish for not appreciating this," he muttered, heading in the opposite direction from the retreating boy.

___________________________________________

Migrating from one village to another was a common occurrence for Yuji, as was scavenging for sustenance from refuse like a wild animal. Being shunned and mistreated by the villagers, who labeled him a monster, had become his unfortunate norm.

The arrival of winter brought with it a new set of challenges. As people ventured out less frequently, Yuji feared he may not survive the harsh season. Huddled in an abandoned alleyway, he trembled, his body tightly embraced against the relentless snow that blanketed the streets.

It was then that Yuji heard whispers of a troubling rumor spreading through the village. A being known as "Sukuna Ryomen" had allegedly set fire to a neighboring settlement. Recalling the entity that had feasted upon the woman's body, Yuji realized this was likely the same malevolent force.

"That peach-haired child is probably the reason Sukuna has been burning down village after village," the villagers speculated. "We're next, but at least Sukuna doesn't strike the same place twice in a week."

Yuji paid little heed to their words, for he had made up his mind. He steeled himself and set out, his bare feet aching as he trudged through the snow, determined to find Sukuna's shrine, which he presumed rested atop a hill or mountain.

After much arduous travel, Yuji found himself standing before a disturbing structure. The shrine was a twisted, demonic perversion of a traditional Buddhist sanctuary, with horns protruding from the roof and human skulls hanging from its eaves. The entrance was a gaping, tooth-filled maw.

"This... looks like utter rubbish," Yuji muttered, yet he mustered the courage to knock on the large, red door. When it finally opened, a white-haired monk appraised him with a look of disdain.

"What brings you here, child?" the person inquired.

"I... Sukuna Ryomen. I wish to meet with it," Yuji responded, stumbling over the name.

The white-haired individual raised a brow. "It?" he repeated. "Well, Master Sukuna is currently out hunting, but I can venture a guess as to why you've come. You seek to work for Master Sukuna in exchange for shelter and sustenance, don't you?" With that, he ushered Yuji inside.

Yuji hesitated, realizing that if he were to enter the shrine now, he may very well be met with Sukuna's return, finding him and a swift, fatal end. "No, I can't... I'll wait for him outside," he said, shaking his head and stepping away from the entrance.

"Are you sure? It's still snowing," the white-haired individual warned.

"Yes," Yuji replied with determination, and retreated to a nearby tree to await Sukuna's arrival. He knew his current situation was pathetic, clinging to the faint hope of survival, but he was not yet ready to accept his demise. When Sukuna finally returned, holding the remnants of a human in his grasp and still consuming it, Yuji's body froze once more, and he cursed his own weakness.

Summoning his courage, Yuji reached out and grasped Sukuna's bloodstained hakama, his gaze fixed on the crimson droplets falling into the snow - a familiar sight. His breathing became ragged as that all-too-recognizable voice spoke.

"The hell?" Sukuna uttered, and Yuji's grip tightened on the fabric.

"I... won," the boy said, his voice broken.

Sukuna looked down at the child, recognizing the familiar peach-colored hair and similar features. He tossed the body aside with disinterest and seized Yuji's kimono from behind, lifting the boy to face him. Yuji's condition had clearly deteriorated since their last encounter; his body was covered in bruises, and he had grown thinner, still wearing the same plain kimono and bare-footed.

"You tryna dig your own grave, brat?" Sukuna huffed, brushing the stray strands of hair from Yuji's face, now longer than before.

"No... You said if you found me, you'd kill me. But I was the one to find you, so I won," Yuji replied, flinching as Sukuna's blood-stained finger traced his face.

"Ah, I see you still got that attitude from before, huh?" Sukuna mused, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Alright, what do you want, brat?"

Sukuna's eyes then focused on the unusual markings on Yuji's face, which resembled another pair of eyes. How intriguing, he thought.

"I want to work for you."

Sukuna scoffed dismissively. "With that frail body of yours, you'd barely get any work done. And I already have plenty of servants - you won't be of any use to me." His grip tightened slightly around Yuji's small hand.

Undeterred, Yuji pleaded desperately, "I can be of use to you! Please, take me in. I'll do anything."

Sukuna hummed contemplatively. "Anything, huh? Alright." He opened the door to the shrine, and the white-haired individual bowed reverently at Sukuna's arrival. The monk seemed surprised to see Sukuna holding the child close.

"Uraume, did you prepare my bath?" Sukuna asked, striding down the corridor towards the bathroom.

"Yes, my lord," Uraume replied.

"Prepare clothes for the brat."

The interior was opulently adorned with fine wood and gilded accents. Sukuna entered the bathroom, guiding Yuji along. "Why am I here?" the boy marveled.

"Take your clothes off and get in," Sukuna commanded, and Yuji complied.

Once in the bathtub, Yuji found himself submerged up to half his face, dwarfed by the oversized tub. He gripped the edges, trying to maintain his balance and avoid drowning. Sukuna then joined him in the tub, and Yuji was surprised.

"You too?" he asked.

"This was prepared for me, of course I'd take a bath," Sukuna huffed, eyeing Yuji's tight grip on the tub.

"Come here," Sukuna said, motioning to his lap. Yuji was hesitant at first, but slowly made his way over. Sukuna pulled the boy onto his muscular thigh, eliciting a small yelp from Yuji, who reflexively wrapped his arms around Sukuna's arm.

Sukuna then took Yuji's wrist, forming an O with his thumb and forefinger. "Tsk, your wrist isn't even covering half the circle," he muttered. "How old are you?"

Yuji looked up at Sukuna, his eyes following the movement of Sukuna's fingers as they glided across his wrist. "I'm eight," he answered, surprised by the curse's surprisingly gentle touch - a stark contrast to the thousands of innocents he had killed with those same hands.

Sukuna scoffed. "Eight? No child of eight years is this small. Brat, you look no older than five." He released Yuji's wrist and grabbed a nearby bowl and fine comb, scooping some bathwater. "Close your eyes," he instructed.

"I'll give you time to prove your usefulness to me," Sukuna said. "You have time until you get some meat on your bones. If you fail to prove how useful you are to me, I'll eat you, brat." Yuji simply nodded in response.

Sukuna let the water flow down the child's head, and Yuji gasped letting some enter his mouth. "The water tastes...good," he murmured. Sukuna raised a brow and began combing through Yuji's hair, untangling the knots.

"That's because it's milk and rose water," Sukuna hummed, surprised by the softness of the boy's hair, given his apparent life on the streets.

"Don't drink it, or do you want to get the blood and dirt from our bodies in your mouth." Sukuna warned. Yuji immediately spat it out, wiping his tongue.

"If you want, I could always give you blood to drink - tastes amazing, if you ask me," Sukuna grinned.

"No, thank you." Yuji replied in a small voice, wincing slightly as Sukuna ruffled his hair. Sukuna put the comb away and scooped more water, this time Yuji kept his mouth tightly shut.

Sukuna then reached for a towel, dampening it in the water and gently gliding it across Yuji's body. The curse couldn't help but see a resemblance to a small, stray kitten, and he scoffed at the thought. Sukuna noticed the little whimpers Yuji let out at certain parts of his body, likely due to bruises, and he applied an even gentler touch with the towel.

Sukuna took notice of the lighter color of Yuji's peach-colored hair, now that dirt was no more. The child turned his head to look at the curse. "You're shining, brat," Sukuna remarked.

"Can I do the same to you?" Yuji asked eagerly.

Sukuna looked at him with disinterest. "What will you even manage with those small hands?"

"I can do it!" Yuji insisted. Sukuna shrugged and handed the boy the comb. Yuji held it carefully, not wanting to lose it.

He looked up at Sukuna, realizing that with his height, he couldn't reach the curse's head. "Could you come down?" Yuji asked awkwardly.

"Excuse me?" Sukuna raised a brow.

"Sorry... I can't reach your head," Yuji apologized, looking down.

"I don't go down for anyone, brat."

Suddenly, Yuji found himself lifted onto Sukuna's shoulders, his arms hugging the curse's face tightly.

"Are you trying to suffocate me?" Sukuna grumbled, his voice muffled as he lightly nibbled on Yuji's arm.

"Ah, sorry," Yuji quickly retreated his arm, his eyes now fixed on the bowl, wondering how he was supposed to use it from up here.

"Uh, Mister... could you give me some water?" Yuji requested.

"Mister? Don't call me that," Sukuna scolded, scooping water into the bowl and handing it to the child.

"Thank you," Yuji murmured, taking the bowl.

"Close your eyes," Yuji said, mirroring Sukuna's earlier actions. The curse grinned.

"I'm doing all the work here, brat. What kind of service is this?" Sukuna taunted as Yuji let the water flow through his hair, feeling the comb gently run through it.

"Sorry... when I get taller, I won't need to be put on your shoulders," Yuji said, handing the bowl back to Sukuna.

That is if he survived that long.

Yuji then began combing through Sukuna's hair, surprising the curse with his skill. It felt almost like a massage.

"Hmm, maybe you're not so bad after all," Sukuna mused. "What's your name?"

"Yuji."

"Just Yuji?"

"Just Yuji..."

"Hmm."

[desultory-novice]

"Apologies AU" Summary Part 1

-

Long, long ago, Earth experienced a radical climate shift that meant within as little as two generations, the planet would no longer be habitable for humans. A desperate humanity sought a new home for themselves and their progeny, eventually discovering the perfect place to start over, a planet they dubbed "The New World."

The New World was to be more than humanity's second chance at life. It would be an ideal society: all of humankind's greatness and triumph built side by side with nature, so the problems of the old world would not follow. Humanity began migrating in waves, the most privileged and wealthy and their loyalists first, of course.

Eventually, everyone would get a new lease on life.

Yes... surely...

One day, upon this fresh new world an alien life form crashed. Mysterious. Powerful. Dangerous. Also weak. Too weak to evade capture. And soon...life began to change. The people of The New World slowly turned their eyes away from those they'd left behind in their ugly past, their gaze fixed on a dream-like future. Advancement. Progress. Technology akin-to-magic. A galaxy of possibilities.

It could be theirs. It would be theirs. At any cost. Those in power would make sure of it.

Animal experiments... Human experiments...

Among these experiments was a woman with a voice so beautiful hearing her was to feel like your greatest Dream had come true...  She would fall in love with a man with a Heart so great he left his home to try and return this troubled species to the right path...

...From their union, two children would be born. 

The eldest, a boy, bore great Darkness within him. The abstract nature of his gifts proved of small interest to Lab Discovera at first, and he was tentatively returned to the care of his parents.

The second, a little girl, was a powerful vessel for Soul matter. The ability to create life, not just manipulate it. To bring something into being from nothing.

She, they wanted desperately! For they did not see a child or even a living creature, but a tool from which they could wrest their desired future of absolute control. The wielders of Dream and Heart would not hear of sacrificing their progeny for these twisted goals!

Considered fugitives from The New World for fleeing with precious "experimental equipment" they hid themselves the only place they thought safe: Old Earth, now little more than a dumping ground for exiles and failed or "disappointing" experiments, often sent down as trinkets to pacify the urban warlords who ruled over the depressed, powerless survivors of this slowly collapsing society.

The family of four lived as best as they could in the increasingly cold and harsh modern wasteland, seen as traitors to their neighbors for having worked closely with Old Earth's privileged oppressors. The children were able to avoid capture, at least.

But their parents would not live to see them grow up...

--

It is the beginning of summer, the only time of the year on "Shiver Star" where it is warm enough to be outdoors for most of the day. The planet awakens from another three season long hibernation...

Adeleine and Noir Fontaine are orphaned siblings, two young kids in their early and mid-teens just trying to survive amongst a tired and deeply bitter populace who knows that they, for one reason or another, are the ones humanity has chosen to die while the rest migrated to the bounteous and rich future of The New World.

Only Noir is old enough and wise enough to fully grasp that no matter how hard they pretend otherwise, there's no long-term survival for the two of them. And god knows, the day-to-day is hard enough.

Still, the two make it work. They thrive, even, due to Noir's endless tenacity and strong desire to save his little sister from the crushing despair he feels, even if he can save her no other way.

With society opening up again, the two quickly find themselves reunited with their childhood friend of several years. It is a happy reunion for Adeleine and an awkward one for Noir. Though even he can't help but admit, having Raquelle around makes the weight on his shoulders feel a little more bearable. Even if the slightly older girl's good-natured teasing flusters him in a complex way...

Still, they could have gone on like this together for many years, the three of them. Until the snow forgot how to melt and all life fell into a gentle sleep, buried under the white drifts. They could have.

...They could have but...

One fateful day, Adeleine's art supplies, her only personal treasure, are ruined beyond repair by people who did not care for their warm-hearted escapism. Alone, Noir follows a secret hunch and sneaks into the Museum of New World Technology, a wrecked and abandoned building formerly used to host hundreds of the broken and often dangerous tchotchkes left behind by the New World.

He finds just what he was looking for amongst the looted remains of this experimental display of new world glitz – the perfect gift for his sister. A "magical" paintbrush that ensures she will always have the tools to do what she loves. Adeleine now finds herself slowly able to bring her yet unrefined art to a fantastical new level!

While they start out as little more than animated sketches, she will in time learn to tap into powers deep within herself, powers as natural to her as breathing, to bring real items, even food, into being.

Noir finds a gift for himself as well. A sword with a strange dark aura. It speaks to him. To his soul. Anxiety. Dread. Anger. Negative emotions that Noir had been able to push aside for most of his troubled life with seemingly endless patience and resilience.

It tempts him: a weapon that does not require strength nor training to use, and effortlessly concealable as something no more noticeable than a chain necklace he can hide beneath the scarf he always has on him. Before he knows what he is doing, he has donned it.

Their summer takes a dramatic turn for the better. Long days of magic-fueled safety and silliness sponsored by "dream-like" technology. Adeleine continues to hone her skills. Noir trains with his gift as well and the inexplicable powers it grants him. He plays with being a hero, disappearing night after night to hunt "monsters."

...But this isn't a story about a hero...

Noir is disappearing more and more lately. He's tense. Frightened of something lurking just over his shoulder. He never takes his scarf off now, and he's begun to wear gloves over his hands, even inside.

One day, he reports to Adeleine that he and Raquelle had a bad fight; that she said she never wants to see him again. Adeleine, seeing the changes in her brother as a sign Noir's been deeply hurt by this experience, loyally sides with him and gives up her oldest friendship...

And so, things go back to normal for the two Adeleine...

What she cannot see is that Noir's hands and neck have begun to turn dark and withered; it is almost as if something other than blood is starting to run through his veins. Underneath his scarf, the chain necklace that gave him control over the dark sword has transformed into a collar he can neither remove nor destroy. His attempts to do so cause the sword under "his" control to attack him, violently.

Frightened, he manages to contact an exiled New World scientist, a man with a shattered mind who informs Noir of the horrible secret behind The New World's precious "miracle." That their wondrous advancements all stemmed from the extensive torture of an alien life form, a powerful psychic who even now, a planet away, is able to toy with the fates of those who gorged themselves on Forgo's pain.

Worse than the knowledge of what this information might mean for him is the realization that he has cursed his little sister to the same terrible end as he. Noir runs to her, frantic! Perhaps it is not too late! There may still be time to take it back!

Please!! Not Adeleine too...!!

And yet...

...She is fine! To his great relief! Adeleine shows no signs of the frightening, irreversible transformation he is seemingly undergoing!

Indeed, she hasn't changed one bit since her gift...

Time passes for the siblings. Slowly and quickly. Noir becomes desperate to continue to conceal and somehow free himself of his "gift." For if he were to die now, what would happen to his sister? She has no one left. But her joy at her growing abilities only makes his guilt worse. And negativity speeds along the change...

Realizing at long last that the fragile life he wishes he could return to is now forever out of reach, that he was the one who destroyed it, and that the monstrous transformation he is going through can only end in harming Adeleine as well, Noir makes a decision...

There is no escape for him. But Adeleine will be free.

At any cost.

Noir touches his sleeping sister's cheek with a hand she would recoil from if she knew what her "hero" has done and disappears into the night one last time...

Days later, Noir and Adeleine arrive at the spaceport. He has come along to bid her goodbye. He tells her not to worry. That he will follow once his paperwork is all sorted out. Unable to fully disguise his intentions, he smiles with tears in his eyes and begs her to be happy.

Happy enough...for the both of them...

Only he knows this is the last time they will meet in this form.

After she departs, Noir walks out into the snow, alone. The distant eye that had been closely watching the child born to Darkness from afar for years, that had begun to lurk inside him since he took the Dark Matter Blade, that sunk its claws into its prey for good the moment his unstoppable resilience finally slipped and he allowed himself, in his fear, to murder his best friend and consign her soul - along with the others he killed - to be enslaved to the darkness too, bursts forth, consuming his physical body.

His last thoughts are not for his own fate. He knows what he deserves.

No. They are for she whom he always thought of first. To the one he had given up everything for and knew, deep inside, he would give up his life for as well, the moment she gave him that scarf...

-

"Was I a good brother... Adeleine...?"

-

[Apologies AU Masterpost] [Noir's Field Trip Masterpost]

[an-au-blog]

ok but considering that in the royalty Shuggy au Shanks is as a terrifying enemy as he is in the series, I'd also like to think he's just as unconfrontational.

His been in few wars and all of them on the defense, rather than offence. And each time, not only did he defend his land with minimal casualties, but he even won land.

One time, during a fierce battle between two neighboring countries, there was a possibility of the conflict transferring into his borders. Buggy convinces him that moving troops as a warning would be a good idea. He also convinced him that he should come along, purely for selfish reasons.

At first Shanks was strongly against it, in fact he was holding his own so much that it became their first real fight (not in the physical sense). But eventually, Buggy got his way.

The jester had never actually seen him in battle. He'd heard of his conquered lands but he wasn't convinced Shanks even knew how to fight. He has seen him body, and knew he was in great shape, but that didn't really mean anything.

When they go there, the fight escalates and becomes a potential problem, as Buggy predicted it would. (Buggy had a strange way of sizing up people, by assuming the greedy and foul natural of people. Unfortunately, he was almost always right, with small exceptions (including the king).)

The king took a stance on the battle field. At first as a warning but soon enough he had to charge into battle. Buggy had never seen a more fearsome warrior. His hands were soaked in the blood of his enemies, so much so that when it dried by the end of the battle his hand was stuck to the blade like glue. He was the most terrifying thing Buggy had seen in his life. Just the look in his eyes made people freeze up or flee. Buggy was fighting alongside everyone, but he never got the chance to fight with many men. He wondered why it was, when he realized it was because Shanks was clearing the way for him.

At the end of the day when they went back to their tents, someone came over to tell the jester that the king was calling him to his tent. They also warned him he seemed in a bad mood.

Buggy thought was about to get scolded or sent back to the castle. Both options sounded horrible to him. He entered and was met with the stare of death by the king. When it met Buggy's eyes it quickly turned into a tired and sad look the jester knew all too well. The jester knew exactly what to do, he went up to him and wrapped his arms tightly around him, he petted his hair to sooth him. The king melted in his arms. For the first time Buggy though he heard the king crying for all the men he's lost or had to kill. Shanks felt an odd sensation of safety in the jester's arms, he could never let it go.

[theunaveragepsychoticbitch]

Well-Behaved

[AFAB!Barbatos(obey me) & AMAB!Scaramouche(genshin impact) x AMAB!Reader. Dom/Sub, blowjobs, Bratty Scara? Ish kinda, threesome, character on character, cross over fic, rawdogging, creampie, fingering, overstim, Barbatos spitroasting, multiple orgasms]

You lean back on your hands, sinking further into the soft bed as you admired the way moonlight danced across your boys' skin.

Your erect cock stood tall and proud in front of them, a bead of precum at the tip. Spreading your legs wider, you can't help but be amused by the anticipation that thickened the very air between you three.

Barbatos, ever an angel (ironically), leaned slightly forward with his hands rested politely in his lap. Hunger and adoration shone in his gaze as he eyes the throbbing veins of your cock.

Scaramouche, ever an asshole, sat ramrod straight with his fists clenched and a glare to wither any hopes or dreams that dared enter its path. His teeth were clenched to the point of uncomfortability, but his twitching, leaking cock and hard, pink nipples told a different story.

You smirk, tilting your head and peering at Barbatos through your lashes, making him immediately perk up. "Darling, would you start?" You say.

He's all too enthusiastic to do so, a "Yes, Master" only barely managing to flee his lips before they latch onto your cock. They're soft as they kiss the head, his tongue swirling several tantalizing times before swallowing you deeper. His tongue presses against the underside, and his cheeks hollow out. Already, you can feel the heat pooling in your abdomen.

You sigh, head falling back as the sensations wash over you in waves. The warm wetness of his mouth and his skilled tongue, confident against your cock, had your legs trembling and left your hips thrusting into his throat every now and then. The gagging sounds when you did made your head spin and your dick throb, and Barbatos could feel it against his tongue.

He wanted to feel it in his throat.

Behind him, Scaramouche scowled. His dick was twitching hard at the sight of your cock opening his counterpart's throat, and the way Barbatos' hole kept clenching around nothing right in front of him, pouring arousal practically right onto his lap...

A drop overflows and spills downwards at an agonizing pace, and he watches with rapt attention.

At that very moment Barbatos moved, trying through tears to fit you down his throat, and sent the string of his arousal off course and onto Scara's cock.

In Barbatos' eyes, you could see how close he was too.

Pathetic is what Scaramouche thought when he came. Anger and ecstacy like a thunderstorm over his mind as pearl-colored spurts hit Barbatos' ass and pussy, surprising him enough to choke around your length. Your toes curled as his throat fluttered, the edge so close you could practically see it.

You never want to leave a sub unsatisfied though, so you- somewhat reluctantly -push Barbatos off your cock and glance slyly at Scaramouche, a smirk playing at your lips. "Cumming untouched, how... cute. It is Barbatos waving his ass in your face though; I'm surprised you didn't cum sooner, honestly." You chuckle as pink dusts their cheeks. Barbatos' head lies on your thigh, spit covering his chin and tear stained cheeks finally drying. His sweat-dampened hair sticks to his forehead, giving him a well-worn look. However, you're far from finished with him.

You reach over him, scooping some of the cum off his ass and fingering it into his hole.

He gasps, a sultry moan soon following as he ruts into you. Scara tries to look away, still embarrassed at his reaction, but you grab his chin. He knows better than to close his eyes, and watches, mortified, as your fingers fuck Barbatos open with his cum. Barbatos moans loud, pushing his pussy closer to Scara's flushed face in a desperate attempt to meet your fingers in the middle.

"Look, Scara. He's beautiful, isn't he? See how well he spreads for me, for us?"

Your fingers leave his hole, earning a pitiful whine from the demon in your lap. You spread him open, juices glistening sinfully in the silver light.

"You wanna fuck him, right?"

He scowls, though it's far less so intimidating and much more pathetic. "Of course not. That dick-whipped idiot may fall over your every word and action, but I refuse to be your whore."

You chuckle, expecting such a stuck-up response. Gripping his chin, you kiss him hard. Your hand moves to his neck, and a frustrated moan manages to escape before you're taken with his lips again.

"Mmh- fuck you!"

"You will, soon." You grin at the terror shining vibrantly in his irises. Your next kiss is gentler; a swipe at his upper lip with your tongue, watching ravenously as they part and form a pretty little entrance for you to dive into, sucking on his tongue and dragging out rough groans. You open one eye and peak downwards, disdained to find his hands wrapped around his cock.

Whispering against his lips, "...You know better. Whore."

He releases immediately at your tone, but it's far too late. Your hands bind his wrists together above his head. He has the audacity to smirk, though the snark doesn't reach his eyes. "What're you gonna do? Stop me from cumming? I already have, if you failed to notice."

You smirk back, something more sinister lacing yours.

Barbatos watches all this from the sidelines, slightly worried for his partner sub. You didn't give punishments often, even when Scaramouche was misbehaving. But Scara had been quite bold as of late, and even your patience could wear thin..

"Barbatos~" You say melodically.

Naturally, he turns all attention to you.

You gesture to the bound Scaramouche at his side. "Ride him. And don't stop until I say so."

There was a pause, a holding of breath as your dear boys processed the order.

Scara was first to return to the present.

His eyes widen, and his sensitive cock twitches, flinging cum onto his stomach. Every muscle locks, and a feverishly warm blush crawls across skin like snow even as a shiver races up his back. His breath comes in deep, slow puffs. His nails dig into his palms. Violet irises alight with something you can't name meet your heavy gaze, and finally he...

Submits.

Barbatos' eyes narrow, sensing the change. His body language has relaxed. His eyes have gained a certain gloss he's seen on himself countless times. The demon exhales, obediently positioning himself over Scaramouche's cock. It pulses in his hand, a hard twitch racking it when the head bumps his soaked entrance.

Your head rests in your hand, an impatient sigh leaving your lips.

"Don't be shy, fuck him."

At your command he takes Scara to the base, all in one fluid motion. Their moans synchronize, Barbatos' high and breathy where Scara's is low and throaty; it makes a melody that blesses your ears and sends shivers up and down your spine.

He starts off slow at first, steadying himself on your knees as he builds up to an absolutely unforgiving pace that leaves the puppet in your grasp clawing at your fists with blunt nails. Toes curling and uncurling, hips stuttering as lewd wet slaps fill the room, the doll could feel the tightness in his abdomen growing, so close to tearing apart in a burst of liquid and light.

He cums once more when Barbatos slams down especially hard, the force of the creampie sending Barbatos over the edge as well.

In his ecstacy the strawberry-topped demon moans loud, mouth wide open, and seeing him presented so prettily with those soft pink lips beckoning you home, how could you resist taking him by the back of his head and shoving your cock down his tight, tight throat?

He gags, but adjusts quickly, hands leaving your knees to claw at your hips. Now standing, you can clearly see Scaramouche's fucked out daze in all it's glory: Mouth ajar, and eyes rolled back as tremors wracked his small frame. With his hands now free, they clutched fiercely at anything they could get a grip on- namely, Barbatos' hips.

The demon was skilled though, and rode the puppet hard even as he chocked on your cock and trembled with pleasure at the feeling of rough hands grasping him, pace becoming unsteady as his own sensitivity increases.

You can't decide who to watch; Scaramouche, who was suffering from success as Barbatos ripped orgasm after orgasm from him, leaving him a shaking, crying, snot-nosed mess of pleas of mercy and sorrowful "I'm sorry's"? Or Barbatos, who was looking at you like you were the only person in the world, sobbing dutifully around your cock and taking the both of you so got damn well?

The latter's throat constricts tight around your length, and you grip his hair tight and push his nose roughly into your abdomen as you cum. You hear one last slap of hips against his ass before his eyes rolls back and claws sharp enough to draw blood are digging into your hips, cumming visibly hard around the cock hitting the deepest parts inside him.

Scaramouche is in tears, unable to take the force of another orgasm. His hands fall limp at his sides, head falling forward to lean fully on his partner's shoulder. He can feel the sweat dripping down his back, see it dripping down Barbatos'.

You pull yourself from your sub's throat even as he continues to suck, and give the command, "You may stop."

Barbatos' legs immediately give out, pure force will having kept them strong this long. Scaramouche mumbles his thank yous, having been reduced from a proud brat to a whimpering bitch.

"Kiss it, Scara." He's quick to obey, kissing up and down your cock as if it were something holy. A genuine smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, and you caress his dampened hair, whispering, "So well-behaved... Sweet, sweet Scaramouche..."

Through unspoken permission, Barbatos praises Scara's breakthrough through peppered kisses across his salty skin. Hickies join the mix, and soon you're both offering up gentle praises and loving you touches to the worn-out submissive.

He collapses against you, exhaustion taking him under as he sags towards the floor. You catch him of course, scooping him up and placing him in the bed.

"I haven't forgotten you, beautiful. You've done amazing as well. Ever my star player, so quick to follow my commands, and always exceeding my expectations. I love you, Barbatos."

You kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.

"And I you, Master."

You chuckle, giving him the Scara treatment and tucking yourself into bed right along with them.

"I love you too, Scaramouche." In his slumber, he doesn't respond, yet his features still seem to visibly relax at your words.

"We'll clean up in the morning." You sigh. "Goodnight, beloveds."

This time, your only answer is the even breathing of your favorite boys in the world.

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

A/N: I'm gonna throw tf up i accidentally posted this then had to copy and paste it all from via my PHONE back to a regular doc cause my fucking computer is ASS and then my mind was in literal OVERTIME and the tag list just KEPT GETTING LONGER. I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE I WAS WRITING DOUBLE PENETRATION UNTIL I WAS WRITING IT. AGHHH.

Anyways thanks for listening yk i don't usually make author's notes. Love ya all, and i do appreciate if you reblog this work if you liked it<3

Not beta read, as per usual

[sotogalmo]

4 — 6:40

Luka as Margarita Blankenheim thoughts once again, spawned by @nottoonedin & @rockwgooglyeyes : about the caption with the Luka & Hyuna art ( @aakaneeee / @4listr / @chokkito )

"I told you, there was only one thing I wanted." — and then added with Toon's tags along with Rock's (always amazing) thoughts- being the demon to remind that she was owned before. That everyone she cared for was owned at least- her and her brother.

Owned by aliens, yet both her and her brother weren't made like Luka. Made to fit an alien's liking; in all aspects.

He was made; "treated me like a doll/ In those days where I was only used like a decorative doll"; goes fully well with Luka's story and life. Always a doll, treated and looks like one.

"yes, I'll help you all to rest as the sleep princess, for the sake of ensuring you achieve happiness..." Its always about THEM, them, them, them. Never about himself when we compare it with Hyuna's many "I"s and "me"s, because she believes in the opposite and lives in the opposite; the ""“dark”"" for most of the pets, is where she lives at; since Luka is the most influential one I would think.

His looks, his grades, top 1, winner of season 49. So on; the others want their pets to be like Luka — if you disobey that? No one will know of you. You are forgotten, and misremembered as a monster, I'd believe. If they were to tell tales of humans escaping? I think the aliens would make it seem like the ones who left, are evil ones.

"You’re only after the wealth of a doctor’s daughter

Aside from that I’m happy, nonetheless / You can also forget our promise when we were children

If I can be by your side."

"Sleep with this gift, you’ll sleep well with this gift

Yes I am the sleep princess, for the sake of your happiness…

Everyone carries troubles: My dad, my mom, and the people of this town. For the sake of everyone who can’t sleep at night- i’ll make this gift, a sleeping medicine

Unpleasant reality, unrequited feelings. If inside a dream, these things can be forgotten

Like a baby inside their crib

With your eyes closed, abandon yourself";

(I could never really get this picture out of my head. "like a baby inside their crib, with your eyes closed, abandon yourself" is very fitting for this peice too)

I don't really know how to actually be coherent in this post. Luka as Margarita was more like "haha, dolls🫵". But you know, for the ones who know the ec lore— Luka is also very fitting for Eve Zeveda(Moonlit); considering how both Eve and Margarita are the same-ish

Being experimented on, going insane (I feel like Luka would have spiral moments), being the first (in different ways), etc.

Luka as Margarita shows more of his relationships, with the people around him I'd think,,,

Luka and Margarita, and the whole "sleeping" deal actually. Margarita is a doll (clockworker's doll to be exact), Luka was made like he was a doll- a toy.

Made into Heperu's liking. Into his perfect pet.

Luka cannot flee, for if he does; it's his end. Just as Margarita's was— she gave them a gift (poison), but in the song it seemed not so long lived, and she too- also soon passed because she also received her own gift

His "gift", is always of course, going to be sent to Hyuna first- though, along with his guardian (because subconsciously or not, I just know that he hates his life so much but he's dissociated enough to forget it all until he gets those tests again). Just as it was with Margarita to Kasper and her father

Luka is a doll, Margarita is a doll.

In some way, while Mizi is our POV(ish) character, she is not the first sinner if going by how winners of previous seasons come into the second round of a season.

Then Luka is the first sinner; but he was made in that regard. To be the first

And Hyuna; the difference.

She does not eat the apple. She does not lay down and bare the consequences of being in Alien Stage; she flees.

She runs away.

Because she wants to— because she deserves to live for herself, for the purpose of the others yet also herself.

To live life to the fullest; and not in some cage— in some tube that Luka was made in. A tube that Luka fits in, like a glove

To live bigger, and better.

Not healthy, but better than the alluring Venus fly traps that don't function correctly.

Hyuna is the dark, while she lives in such bliss (a bliss that is humanity without the aliens controlling them) that only others could never think of doing because, in some way, I just know that leaving ANAKT Garden has been told to them before; if they were to leave? Oh, they'll be seen as monsters, or something worse?

I don't really know. But I do know that some of the kids would ask, and then never really get a reply about it.

Luka is the light; but only a pale one. Even though he is bright— he's pale.

A pale yellow-gold— a pale imitation.

Not the truth, but seen as true; just like everything else in the garden "In those days where I was only used like a decorative doll

I was already broken long ago, I wanted to destroy everything

It’s a very efficacious medicine, efficacious up to being able to sleep forever

With this, finally I too will be able to sleep, from the Sleep Princess to Sleeping Princess..."