#augh... something something about how what happens when he’s touched gently for the first time and also being conflicted bc he doesn’t

[salsflore]

free me of my mikachi thoughts i cannot live like this anymore.

[akumanoken]

[/okay but, those gifts really would be feels. to get something from a man who's hated, who's not known by just many, who's feared... how it's been so long for him. souji here like "hold my bag... don't you dare talk of my hubby badly" & knowing how hard life has been & how slow things are. to get anything, let alone think vergil would bring a child with no family & take him in also.

it took him long enough to even get close enough & knows how to be careful.

vergil while he doesn't speak or show it much, he shows how much he still cares for him & their baby boy. the hand holding tho- that's his main affection & you know that means a lot coming from him. that ship name they have is completely them. they're incomplete without each other. they can't relax & they get nightmares without each other. how's that for writing more of them& had to small text it to be shorter lol ]

OKAY SO RIGHT LIKE NO ONE IS SAYING THAT THE THINGS VERGIL'S DONE CAN BE IGNORED THE MAN HAS DONE SOME CRAZY THINGS. BUT SOUJI WILL STILL REFUSE TO ALLOW ANYONE TO SHIT ON VERGIL BECAUSE NO ONE IS UNDESERVING OF REDEMPTION!!!

Souji knows that it really did alienate him with Nero, who is literally his best friend and partner in crime, when Vergil came back because of what he did to Nero, and what Urizen did to Redgrave. He knows bits and pieces of the things he's done beforehand, but he also knows a hurt boy when he sees one, and Vergil has been hurt and alone and surviving on his own for so long that he simply didn't know what it was to have a steady home or a steady person to be there no matter what. Someone who sees everything he did and truly welcomes him back (who's not Dante basically).

But enter Souji, who's stubborn as hell and doesn't care how long you've left as long as you know you have a place you can come to because he could tell the other just didn't really have one before. He kept little nicknacks items that Vergil happened to leave there for him when he returned, so it never felt like starting from scratch, but simply returning where he left off. Returning home.

It was something that carried on from his smaller apartment to the loft they currently live. It was enough for Souji that Vergil was aware he had a place to stay... that he would choose to stay there from time to time, though never for too long.

But it's turned into something so incredible... where it truly has become a home for the both of them, how when Vergil found Asao alone his first thought was to bring him to Souji because he knew with Souji the boy could find a home, with warmth and love... and it's spiraled from there.

Their entire exchange of feelings is in the touch of the other's hands... simply holding it gently, twining fingers... reaching for something when the other needs it, falling asleep together, pressing together their foreheads at night and sleepily mumbled Japanese in the morning. They've never said it in so many words... never kissed... and yet they have such a deep understanding of each other that each theme their fingers touch it's actually the most intimate thing in the whole world. That every time Souji smiles at him he's screaming it at the top of his lungs, and each time Vergil puts his hands on Souji's head he's softly saying it back to him.

I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THEM AUGH

[fandom-strumpet]

She Wants A Cat

A caterwaul loud enough to burst eardrums sounds through the house and Damon rushes down from upstairs to see what the commotion is all about. “Augh, Stefan!!!” Damon yelled, covering his ears. “What the hell is that noise?” He scrunched up his nose as another wail sounded.

“It’s Y/N. She’s- *banshee-like wail sounds* -crying.” He finishes and let’s out a breath.

“Okay and WHY is she crying Stefan? Figure that out and then you can make her- *wail* STOP.” Damon turned and yelled at floppy you on the couch. 

“Have a little empathy Damon? She just got her wisdom teeth removed.” 

“And she’s here why? She has her own house.” Damon raised his hands.

“She can’t be alone right now, and Caroline is out of town with Bonnie.”

“Steeeefuuunnnnn.” You moan and say something incoherent.

“What do you want?” Damon snapped, confused and frustrated.

Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “She wants a cat, and we don’t have one.” 

“Oh is that all?!” Damon drops his hands to his side with a slap. The front door slams shut and Kai walks into the living room. He copies Damon’s actions from before and moves his hands to his head. 

“Who’s dying?” he feigns disgust.

“Great. Another headache just showed up.” Damon grumbled and shoved past Kai to get out of the house with the goal to stay out of the house until later tonight. 

“It’s Y/N. Long story short: she got her wisdom teeth out and wants a cat.” Stefan looked around and spread his arms out to motion the absence of a cat. 

“Why don’t you just get her a cat?” Kai asked like Stefan had lost his mind. 

“We can’t- I can’t just get a cat, Kai.”  This comment draws a sob from you.

“Noooooo Stefuuuunnnn.” you sob out with tears rolling down your face. 

Kai tilts his head and he tries to figure out why your mangled moans and sobs bothers him in a different way than he was used to. He moves towards you and crouches by your side, Stefan starts to rush at him but pauses. Kai wiped the tears from your puffy cheeks and you looked at him with confused and red eyes from crying. ‘

“You want a kitty, princess?”

You go silent and your breath hiccups as a result of the hyperventilating cry from before. You nod your head, and sniffle out an, “mmmhmmm.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” he whispered. He runs his hand along the side of your face, his fingertips playing with your messed up y/h/c/ hair. His eyes search yours with an intensity, as if your eyes held the secrets to the universe.Talking to Kai calmed you down somewhat and you continued to sniffle but the house no longer resounded with cries and moans. Kai left a concerned and confused Stefan standing in shock as he left with a mischievous grin plastered on his face. Not even 15 minutes later, he returned with a shit eating grin on his face. Stefan had taken to sitting on the sofa opposite yours, a drink in hand and obviously not the first one he’s had. He stared at you in defeat and you stared at the carpet, still sniffling. You eyes wander up when a pair of converse and skinny jeans interrupts the plush view. Looking down at you with a grin, Kai crouches next to you to reveal a little black furball nestled in his arms. You gasp in reaction. 

“Surprise!” Kai said joyfully, looking at your face in anticipation.

“Isssh a kitty!” You beamed and propped yourself up on one elbow. 

“Yeah, here you go. Careful now.”

The sweet-smelling, fluffy black kitten was so small it couldn’t have been more than 6 weeks old. Immediately upon reaching your hands it continued its peaceful purring and climbed onto your chest. 

“Awwwwww, she’s so cute.” you look down adoringly at the bundle on your chest and miss the look or adoration that Kai has for you. You start cooing and stroking the little thing’s head. Kai mimics your motion and places his hand on the side of your head, gently stroking your hair with his thumb. 

“Did you really-” Stefan says quietly and steps beside Kai.

“Yep.” Kai breathed out while maintaining his stare at you.

Stefan gave Kai an incredulous look and pulled out his phone. Speed dialing someone, he turned to walk away. 

“Hey, Elena. You’ll never guess what just happened..” he continued to ramble into the phone and walk outside to tell her the whole story. 

“What should we name her?” Kai’s hand freezes upon your question. He wasn’t expecting you to ask him that question. Yet alone use the word we. He shakes his head slightly, staring down at the fragile kitten who was now sleeping. He doesn’t know what to say so his mouth remains slightly open as he bites his tongue, wrapped up and in awe of the moment passing between you. 

“What about Baby? Cuz she could be like our little baby” you raise your eyebrows in question, looking at Kai for a reaction.

“Whatever you want, princess. Baby it is.” he licked his lips, the desire to meet yours suddenly felt so overwhelming. How could he have not noticed the strawberry scent coming from your chapstick until now? He’s not supposed to be able to feel emotions, right? His mind raced and he finally decided upon gently placing a kiss on your forehead. You hummed in response and closed your eyes. He could tell your breathing had started to slow and he watched you drift off into a peaceful slumber with the little kitten. Your favorite fuzzy blanket had fallen onto the floor from earlier, Kai stood and gently laid it over your lower body. 

“Take care of- our baby....” He stroked your face one last time, his breath hitching as your head leaned into his touch. 

@rome5683​ 

[rosiehunterwolf]

two halves of a broken whole

Prompts: Scars and Free Space (stealing Post-Fight from the twixt board)

Word Count: 2,191

Characters: Nya and Zane

Timeline: Immediately after season 9

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Needles, Brief Swearing

Summary: The Sons of Garmadon have been defeated. Garmadon is in prison. The city has been saved.

In the aftermath of the battle, Nya is more than ready to take a much-needed break. But the life of a ninja is messy. Recovery is never that simple. Although the wounds may have healed, the scars still remain.

Zane’s scars seem to match up, though. And maybe together, they can begin to heal.

Read on FFN.net

Read on Ao3

Tumblr work under the cut

Nya stumbled through the dark kitchen, searching through the cabinets. She gritted her teeth as pain flared in her arm. Where are those painkillers? Ugh, how does Skylor find anything in here? There’s no system!

She gasped in relief as she finally found the medicine cabinet, but as she reached out to grab a bottle, she bumped her bad arm against the cabinet door. Crying out in pain, she jerked her arm back, and the bottles came tumbling down and clattering loudly to the floor.

“Damn it all,” she groaned, leaning her head against the cabinet. “Stupid, stupid arm, why do you have to be so weak-”

“Nya?”

Nya jumped, hitting her head against the cabinet door. “Ow! Zane, what are you doing here-”

The nindriod crossed the small kitchen in two steps, yanking off the damp towel she had draped across her upper arm, revealing a long, bloody cut stretching across the length of it.

“I knew it,” Zane muttered. “Nya, why would you hide something like this?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, I-”

“Not that big of a deal? Nya, this is serious! You need stitches! Next time, say something!”

She winced. “I didn’t want to bother you guys- Lloyd was way more hurt than I was, you guys had your hands full with him.”

“You could’ve gone to Skylor.”

“I wanted to prove I could do it, okay?” Nya snapped. “Skylor was so strong, walking off Garmadon’s power corruption like it was nothing. And she was being so generous, letting us all crash in her house like this- I didn’t want to bother her anymore, but instead, I just ended up bleeding out all over her bathroom floor.”

Zane shot her a sympathetic glance. “Nya, don’t worry about that now. Skylor will understand, and I can clean it up. The only thing we care about is that you are safe. Here, go sit down.” He gestured towards a kitchen chair and headed towards the cabinet. Nya slumped over into the chair, still clutching her arm, and Zane rooted through the medicine bottles, finally pulling out the painkillers and handing her three large pills and a glass of water. She eyed them warily.

“Isn’t this a little much? I mean, it hurts, but not that bad.”

“I still have to give you stitches, remember?”

“Oh. You’re doing that now?” Zane turned away, and Nya took the opportunity to down the pills, using the cheap coffee she had made herself to help her swallow instead of the water Zane had given her. “Nya, if I don’t do this now it will only make the cut worse.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know- ow!” she yelped as Zane rubbed at the wound with a wet, antiseptic-soaked washcloth, the fabric quickly staining red.

“I need to clean it, Nya. This would’ve been much easier if you hadn’t spent so long walking around with an open wound.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“I’m going to go get a needle and thread, I’ll be right back.” Nya sighed, slumping back against the chair. This was exactly what she had been trying to avoid. The guys had been through hell recently. The last thing they needed was having to worry about her, too.

“Nya?”

Nya jerked her eyes open, turning her gaze towards Zane. What happened? Did I doze off?

Stupid coffee, not doing its job.

Zane seemed to catch on to this too, and frowned. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“I don’t need sleep, I have this magical liquid called coffee.”

He shot her a stern glance. “Nya.”

“Fine! I don’t remember, okay?” She reached for the paper cup again, but Zane snatched it from her hand.

“You can’t live off of coffee. First of all, it’s horrible for your health, second, it can never replace a full night’s sleep.”

Nya crossed her arms, grumbling. “Hey, at least I’m better than Lloyd. He dumps like five pounds of sugar into his.”

“Yes, well, Lloyd is sleeping. Like you should be.”

“Which is so not fair,” she huffed. “I spent weeks trying to get him to sleep and the second you guys get back, he does it instantly.”

Zane smiled, but his eyes were sad. “Kai’s always kind of had a way with him.”

“I know.” She turned her head, sighing. “I wasn’t trying to sound ungrateful, I’m so glad you’re back, but-” Nya let her hand fall to her side, where it bumped against Zane’s. Gently, she rubbed her fingers across the smooth metal, her heart pounding in her chest. Suddenly, she squeezed Zane’s hand, her breath coming in heavy pants as she closed her eyes.

“Nya?”

Her eyes snapped open. “I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Nya, it’s okay if you’re not fine.”

“I am.”

“I’m sorry we left you as we did.”

“It’s not your fault, okay?” She tugged away from him. Her hands were trembling now- from the coffee? The painkillers? The fear? She didn’t know. “It’s not your fault.”

Zane closed his hands over hers, steadying them. “No, but it still wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

“You don’t know,” she whimpered. “You don’t know what it was like. I wanted to give up so bad, and Lloyd-” she closed her eyes, breathing out slowly. “I don’t even know how I got him through it. He was so depressed. I can’t go through that again.” She turned sharply towards Zane, grabbing his hands. “I can’t. You hear me? That can never happen again.”

Zane squeezed her hands back, his eyes sad. “Believe me, Nya, I will do everything in my power to make sure it never does. But we are ninja. Dangerous things are going to happen, and if we spend our whole lives fearing that, we’ll never get through. We need to live life one day at a time. We need to trust in each other.”

“I do trust you!”

“Good.” He placed a hand on her arm, just below the wound. “Then you’ll let me patch you up?”

Nya glanced at the needle and swallowed, looking away. “Just go ahead. Don’t make me watch.”

“We really don’t have the proper numbing medication,” Zane said. “The painkillers will help some, but this is still going to hurt.”

“Believe me, I’m sure the sword going in felt a lot worse.”

Zane pressed his lips together. “Yes, I suppose it did. Ready?”

“Stop asking me if I’m ready and just do it already!” Zane flinched away, and she quickly added, “Sorry. I’m just a little on edge.”

“You’re going to be fine. Just hold still.”

The needle was cold on her skin, and then suddenly it was piercing through her flesh. It took all of Nya’s willpower not to jerk away, and she bit down hard on her lip, forcing back a scream. “Holy shit- Zane!” she broke off in a whine.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. It’ll be over soon.”

She tried to focus on her breathing as the needle pricked her again and again, Zane’s tugs quick and tight.

“Augh, remind me to visit Kryptarium later and go scream at those assholes for doing this to me.”

“We could’ve gotten you to a proper hospital if you had spoken up earlier. This is your own fault.”

“Oh, yeah, blame the victim. Besides, I hate hospit- aaugh, Zane, are you almost done?”

“Done.” Zane neatly snipped the thread, and Nya slumped over onto the table, grinding her teeth together and clenching her fists.

She felt Zane’s hand on her back. “Are you okay?”

“Gaugh, I will be, but son of a bitch, that hurt!”

“Alright.” Zane’s voice suddenly sounded cross. “It’s over now. That language is no longer necessary.”

“Are you seriously scolding me for swearing right now?” The table muffled her yelp. “I’d like to see how you cope when your arm stings like hell.”

“Nya.”

“You’re impossible!” Sitting up, she told him, “If you’re going to be such a goody-two-shoes, could you at least get me an ice pack?”

Zane got her the ice, and after about half an hour, the pain had finally dulled to something she could sleep through.

Exhausted as she was, though, she wasn’t done yet.

“Come see me in the morning,” Zane was saying, cleaning up the last of the bottles and putting them back in Skylor’s medicine cabinet. “It should be fine, but I want to check just to be sure. And try not to sleep on that side. I don’t want the stitches coming out during the night.” As he turned to walk out of the room, Nya grabbed his wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

He blinked. “To bed? Like any sensible person should be at this hour?”

“Not so fast, now it’s your turn.”

“My turn?”

“You patched me up,” Nya told him as she turned and rustled through Skylor’s junk drawer. “It’s only fair that I return the favor.” She pulled out a few screwdrivers, some scrap metal, and- score, a circuit board. And in pristine condition, too! Skylor always had the best stuff lying around. When you could find it, that is.

“But Nya, I’m not injured!”

She put a hand on her hip, glancing him up and down. Scratches and dents littered the ice ninja’s skin, and if she knew Zane, that was usually an allusion to something bigger going on.

“Oh please, the four of you came back a mess.” She walked around him, inspecting him. “Don’t tell me you came out of that whole ordeal unscathed. And I didn’t see anyone check you over today. Aha-” leaning forward, she rapped her knuckles against a spot on his back, near the shoulder, and the panel shuddered beneath her touch. “I knew it. This section isn’t sturdy. Take off your shirt so I can get to it better.”

“Nya, I am a nindroid, injury is inconsequential-”

“I said, take off your shirt! Or are you going to make me do it for you?”

Zane sighed, pulling off his pajama top so that Nya could see the damaged area better. The panel appeared cracked and loose, so, gently, she pried it off, revealing several frayed and broken wires. Part of the exposed circuits were fried.

“And you were telling me off for hiding my injuries?”

“It’s hardly the same. Human bodies cannot withstand the amount of force that a nindroid’s can. Plus, you are susceptible to infection.”

“Zane, I don’t care!” She got to work snipping at the wires and pulling some of the damaged parts out. “You’re still one of us. Just because you can take this sort of damage doesn’t mean you should!”

“I know. I was just worried about the others.”

“Well, it’s about time you thought of yourself for once. You can’t properly care for us if you’re not functioning at full capacity, anyway.” Sticking the tweezers between her teeth, she readjusted the wires and got to work on the circuits.

“I… I don’t like asking for help.”

Nya’s fingers paused.

“‘E ei’er.” The tweezers muffled her words, but Zane got her point clear enough.

“Sometimes we do need help, though. We are part of a team for a reason, after all.”

Nya removed the tweezers and wiped her grease-stained hands on a towel. “You’re forgetting that I was Samurai X before I was a ninja. I didn’t need any help then.”

“I didn’t forget, I just remembered the important parts. We were still there for you afterward, even on your solo missions.”

Nya was quiet for a moment. “Maybe that was why it was so hard with you gone. It was like a piece of me was missing. I couldn’t fully uphold the Resistance without you guys there to help.”

Zane’s fingers skirted across his heart. “I don’t know how we went on, with part of our souls realms away.”

Nya put a hand over his. “But we’re here now.”

“But you weren’t. We have all the pieces again, but they feel… broken.”

“Hey.” Nya pressed the metal against the gap in his back, using the screwdriver to secure it into place. She leaned back, admiring her work. Good as new. “I fixed you, didn’t I? Nothing will stay broken forever.”

“I can fix a car,” Zane sighed. “Or the Bounty, or the oven, or myself. But I have no idea how one goes about putting pieces of a broken heart back together.”

Nya sat down next to him. Their eyes met- stunning, electrifying blue against deep, gentle brown. “Neither do I. But maybe… we can figure it out.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Together.”

“Together is good,” Zane agreed, putting his arm around her. “I think I like it a lot better than being alone.”

Sitting there, on the hard wooden chair, raw stitches in her shoulder, with Zane’s hard metal arms wrapped around her, she couldn’t have been in a more uncomfortable position. Yet Nya felt more at ease than she had in weeks.

For the first time since the guys had gone to the First Realm, Nya’s sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted.

[maybebanks]

Where Did You Get That?

JJ Maybank x reader , rafe x platonic reader

pretty long - ur in for angst, fluff, and more!

⚠️:light sexual assault

“Rafe? I really don’t think we should be here,” you told him, reaching out to hold his hand.

“Relax, Y/n, we’ll be in and out fast. And I’m doing all the talking,” Rafe ensures.

He held your hand without intertwining your fingers, it wasn’t necessarily a gesture of affection, you just wanted him close in this environment.

You looked at the overgrown grass surrounding the populated shack-like home. There was a trailer to the left of it. Just low class homes you were not very used to seeing on the Eight.

You’d like to consider yourself half a pogue. But the fact that this was a drug dealer’s home gave you the heebejeebies.

When you arrived at the door, Rafe entered first. At the same time an older man walked out.

“You should pop that collar, bro,” said the husky man. He then turned to you, eying you up and down hungerly. You gulped visibly, making him smirk.

Rafe pulled you inside, there were couches with people you didn’t recognize either popping pills or drinking cheap beer.

Your nose scrunched at the unpleasant scent filling your nose.

Rafe looked around, nodding at a few people, leading you to a back room.

“Hey Barry, what’s up my man?”

“What’s good, country club!” Barry responded loudly.

“Shoulda worn my wife beater,” Rafe told Barry.

Barry chuckled, “you couldn’t beat nobody, Rafe,” he paused, and moved to look around Rafe, you were standing behind him, trying to be as small as possible.

“Who’s this?” He smiled, locking eyes with you. You tried to look away, but you didn’t want to be rude.

“Oh her? No one,” Rafe said bluntly.

“What’s your name, babydoll?” Barry asked you.

Before you could answer, Rafe begin talking.

“Just leave her alone. You got something for me right?” Rafe said.

“C’mon,” Barry said gesturing for you both to follow him farther, you walked closely behind Rafe. Everyone judging you as you walked past.

“A’ight, a’ight, a’ight. Let’s see what we got here,” Barry added. Reaching his bedroom and pulling out a duffel bag.

You involuntarily took in a deep breath. You grabbed the side of Rafe’s shirt, trying to tell him with your eyes that you were uncomfortable and wanted to leave.

“Shut up,” Rafe shrugged you off, causing you to fold your arms and retreat back.

“We got a problem or somethin’?” Barry looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Um..no-“ you answered.

“She’s fine, just ignore her,” Rafe tried.

“Nah..I can’t ignore a beauty like that. Get outta here and let the big boys talk, huh?” Barry said to you, jerking his head outwards.

You looked at Rafe for approval, “just wait right outside okay? You’ll only be alone for like 5 seconds,” he assured.

You looked down, feeling the nerves, “you don’t wanna be alone? I got someone for ya...Luke! Come here and keep this girl company!” Barry shouts, nearly making you flinch.

Rafe attempted to speak for you again, “Nah man, she’s okay-“

“It’s my place, bro, my rules,” Barry responded, shutting Rafe down.

You slowly walked out the door and down the hallway, running into an older man with nearly grey hair, his breath smelled like alcohol and he had a long chain around his neck with blue keys.

“Excuse me,” you said, trying to pass him.

“Come on with me, darlin’,” he ordered. He must be Luke. The one Barry was calling.

You followed him out to the couches, you didn’t want to deny him or else he might try something, so when he sat down, manspreading, you carefully followed.

“You look familiar! Have I seen you ‘round before?” Luke asks you, moving closer as he talks.

“I don’t..I don’t think so,” you answered softly.

Suddenly, he placed a calloused hand on your thigh, “you shouldn’t be in a place like this. But now that you are, I think it’s best we make it worth it,” he whispered.

“Um..” you immediately stood up, his hand falling from its position, “sorry! I just...I need to go...”

He stood up too, his key necklace jingling.

“You think you’re too good for me? What? Huh?” He shouted defensively, scaring you.

“No Sir...” you whimpered, too frozen to step away.

Saved just in time, you saw Rafe’s orange polo in the corner of your eye.

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, he caught you off guard so you stumbled into his chest.

“Let’s go, Y/n,” Rafe said shortly, holding a bag of coke in his hand.

You frowned, and bit your lip as you followed him out.

—

Like you said before, half a pogue.

Currently, you were sitting in a hammock with Kie. Who was droning on about how both of you need to start a club at kook academy next year.

John B was on an upside down garbage can fumbling with his dads compass. And JJ was trying to teach Pope how to hackey-sack.

“Pope no! You just need to have and eye-foot connection...”

“Do you mean coordination?”

“Yeah that,” JJ rolled his eyes. Making you laugh. It was the first time you laughed today. Maybe it was because after that man at Barry’s you were on edge.

“JJ...I have a question for you,” you began.

“Why not me? I’m better at answering questions,” Pope asked.

“Shut up Pope. She doesn’t need google, she needs JJ-google...wait...” JJ was trying to finish his insult, but then he couldn’t decide. Causing Pope to throw an empty plastic waterbottle in his face.

“Pope, really?” Kie scolded.

“What he was being an idiot,” Pope shrugged.

“Not that...the fact that it’s plastic!” Kie exclaimed, they went on bantering and JJ approached you. He sat down carefully in the hammock you were in, careful not to flip you out of it.

“What’s up?” He asks. Brushing some hair off his forehead.

“I just wanted to know how to take the edge off...you know like..rhetorically...if I was on edge,” you explained.

“Uh...well I mean drugs work for me,” JJ blurted, you stiffened, remembering what drugs indirectly put you through today.

JJ noticed you tense, so he responded, “not like drugs drugs...just like a blunt or two. Never take pills...I know I never will,”

“I know. I was thinking more like...surfing or something. Would you go with me?” You asked, pulling your legs into your chest.

JJ’s hand involuntarily touched his rib, remembering a bruise he got from pissing off his Dad. He hasn’t been able to have proper range of motion the whole day.

“Uhh I’m not really feeling up to it today, sorry Y/n,” he denies.

You look at his gesture, and concerned, you gently grab his shirt and lift it up to see his torso, a soft purple and blue bruise decorated there.

“Geez...” you sighed.

He didn’t want you to know. He barely ever mentioned his dad to you, so he let you assume differently.

“If you keep getting into these fights with kooks I’m going to have to confine you to The Cut,” you ordered.

“But then I won’t be able to see you? That’s the only reason I’m even on The Eight,” JJ noted.

He moved closer as if to tease you. And that’s when a wave of discomfort passed through you. It was just JJ, but that didn’t change it. You clenched your fist and looked away from him. Trying to ignore your uneven breathing.

JJ pulled back, starting to stand and lean against the tree, “What’s got you on edge, someone I need to take care of?”

“No...no. I said it was rhetorical!” You argued.

“Yeah but your super fidgety. Something happened today didn’t it?” JJ looked at you, his manner no longer joking.

You didn’t answer, just looked at Kie and the rest of the group. Finally winding down.

John B said, “So...you guys all understand the plan for tomorrow? Pope?”

Pope nodded, “yup my dads letting me use his boat,”

“I’m gonna get the Hms pogue. JJ you think you could get the Phantom?” John B asked.

John B was organizing a group boating thing. You didn’t really know much about boats so you didn’t really understand.

JJ nodded, “got the keys from my dad,” he answered. Now happily lounging in the hammock.

You were sharing it with him, his legs at your side and yours at his.

He nudged you, smirking and making a few jokes.

You kept a straight face. And he took this as a challenge.

“Don’t smile! Don’t smile!” He demanded.

“Don’t try to work your reverse physiology on me, mr,” you said, fighting the urge to mirror his cheery nature.

He continued and your lips curled up into a smile, to which he cheered. “yes!! I win!”

“Yeah... maybe you won this one but...” you trailed off, your eyes staring at his chest. You could practically feel the fear running through your veins when you saw what was around his neck.

“She loss for words!” JJ joked, telling the rest of the group he could make you happy even though you were very down.

“JJ...” you breathed, staring at the chain around his neck, it was long and had a blue key at the end.

“What?” He asked dumbfoundedly, maybe thinking you were worried about his bruise again.

Your eyes remained locked on the key as flashbacks went through your mind.

The man you saw today wearing it. What that man did to you.

“JJ...what...how do you have that?” You studdered, using your eyes to point to it.

JJ looked down at his chest and fondled the key in his hand, “this?” JJ asked.

You didn’t want to think, if you thought you would find a connection between JJ and that man Luke.

You decided to get up, maybe retreat to inside the Chateau.

“These are the keys to the Phantom...are you okay?” JJ asked, seeing you flustered.

“Uh I’m gonna head out...I just forgot I have to go meet Rafe somewhere,” you came up with an excuse.

“Uh hold up! You’re not getting away from me that easy,” JJ smirked pulling your waist into him.

You lost balance and fell into JJ’s chest. Your head was near his shoulder, and you looked up at him with frustration.

“Augh!” He grunted, “should’ve thought that through,” he said, you landed right on his bruise.

“Yeah...can um you let me go. Please?” You remembered you were still freaked out on why he had that key.

“Fine. But tell Rafe he can go fuck himself,” JJ shrugged.

After what he put you through today, gladly.

—

You felt surprisingly guilty for lying to the pogues. But that coupled with the nerves and discomfort you were feeling was nothing.

When you entered your house you went straight you your room. Collapsing on your bed.

—

“Wait why did she leave?” John B asked.

“What did you do to her, JJ?” Kie accused.

JJ didn’t know the answer to that either, “Nothing! I don’t know! She just freaked when she saw this,” JJ grabbed the key around his neck and held it up for the pogues.

“Why? It’s just a key. You think she’s seen it before?” Kie suggests, taking a hold of it and inspecting it.

JJ frowned, “the only way she would’ve seen it before is if...uh if she’s seen it on my dad. No...theres no way,” JJ doubted, but really he was just hoping.

“It’s possible...she had a negative connotation...” Pope trailed off. Watching JJ pace back and forth.

“Fuck...” JJ sighed, “you really think she...oh my god,”

“It’s okay JJ, you don’t need to protect her all the time-“ John B tried.

“From my dad I thought I could! She’s gonna hate me!”

“JJ, calm down. Y/n adores you,”

“You didn’t see her face, man! She was scared...and they way she looked at me...” JJ didn’t finish his sentence, he just grabbed his bag and headed to leave.

“Where are you going?!” John B called after JJ.

“I’m gonna go see her!” JJ answered, hopping into the van.

“Wait! Hey! What if she doesn’t want to see you!?” Pope called, but JJ wasn’t going to let anyone talk him out of it. He had to see you.

—

You heard a knock at your door. To which you ignored.

“Come on y/n I know you’re in there,” you heard a male voice muffled through the door.

You pulled a pillow over your head. Mumbling, “go away,”

“I just want to talk,” the voice began, you couldn’t quite hear him, so you accepted, opening the door slowly for him.

It was Rafe, his eyes were glossy and he was sniffing rapidly. He wasn’t about to cry infront of you, he just had been in a bad place.

“About what? I have nothing to say to you,” you said, adjusting the straps on your tank top nervously.

“Really? Me neither,”

“Then why did you come here,” you spit, anger only growing.

“Are you seriously mad at me?” Rafe accuses.

“Yes! Your coke addiction is ruining your life! And now mine,” you told him, frustrated.

“Don’t be so dramatic Y/n! You offered to come!” Rafe argued.

“Only because I was scared to say no!” You defended.

“Bullshit. I don’t even understand why your mad, it was barely a 10 minute trip!” he shouted.

“A lot can fucking happen in 10 minutes,” you blurted, your eyes starting to water.

He took notice and his expression fell, to which you responded, “fuck,”

“What are you talking about? What happened? Something when you were alone?” Rafe pressed, stepping closer.

“Look, just back off, okay? I don’t need..I don’t need this,”

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“No,” you answered.

He scoffed, “whatever Y/n. Maybe I could fucking help you-“

“Help me? Since when would you ever consider that?! You took me there Rafe! God I can’t even tell you what you did wrong because your so blinded by the drugs!”

“I’m not gonna quit coke...not for you, not for anyone,”

You felt a tear spill out, you couldn’t help but care about your oldest family friend, “Fuck. You.”

“Maybe you should!” He challenged, grabbing you shoulders. You emotions flipped like a switch. From mad to frightened.

He pushed you into your bed, you quickly sat upright.

“What the hell?” You asked softly.

He leaned closer, his hands on your legs and leaning over you, “coke makes me better baby...I feel better,”

You tried your best to shove him off and get up, but your arms were weaker.

He smiled, then got up, chuckling, “call me when your ready to talk,”

He gave you one last look before leaving your bedroom, closing the door behind him.

When he left, you started hyperventilating, gasping for air at the thought of what Rafe could have done, what Luke had done. How violated you felt. We’re you just a toy to everyone?

—

JJ stood outside her house, he was waiting near the bench on the side for about ten minutes. Trying to figure out what you already knew, and what to say.

You knew his dad, you met him. And he hurt you.

JJ’s head fell in his hands, he sighed. Wishing he could have chosen better parents.

Instantly, your front door creaked open and quickly slammed. JJ his behind the bench and watched Rafe Cameron walk out of your house.

His kook buddies pulled up in a black Jeep, shouting profanities at him.

“YO! You fuck her yet!!” They screamed. Clapping.

“Nah! Shut up bro! She’s right inside! She’s just a friend tho,” Rafe answered, hopping in the backseat.

“Yeah but we see that boner, you wanna pound her-“

“Kelce chill man, don’t talk about women like that,” Topper tried.

“Toppers becoming a feminist,”

“Just treat her right.”

“Yeah man she’s a bitch though, mad at me about something that happened today. Blaming ME! Like yo...it’s not my fault you’re hot!” Rafe added.

JJ didn’t hear anything after that. They drove away.

When they were out of sight, JJ opened your door and entered your house. You told him he was always welcome, so he decided to take you up on that.

He shifted nervously before knocking on your door. A gentle knock, unlike Rafe’s.

He heard you inside, you took a minute to open the door, expecting Rafe.

When you opened it, JJ could tell you were stressed, your eyes were slightly red from crying and your cheeks flushed.

“JJ? What...I- now isn’t a good time,” she said, still keeping him outside her room.

“I’m really sorry Y/n. I just want you to know that. Okay?” JJ blurted. He wasn’t the best at apologies.

“For what?” Deep down you knew why.

JJ brought his hands to his chest, where the key had been last time you saw him, “those keys...belong to my Dad. I never wanted you to meet him. That’s why I lied,” he admitted.

You opened the door a little wider, “JJ I’m fine,” you mustered.

“He’s on drugs, and uh...we don’t get along...that’s why I stay at John B’s so much. Look, just know you don’t have to talk about it. But it will help you forget,” JJ continued.

You almost cried, but you held it in for a moment longer, “JJ? Do you know?” You said each word slowly.

“I just assumed you met him. How you reacted when you saw his keys,” JJ answered.

You looked down at your hands, they were shaking.

“It’s not a big deal...” you tried to lie to yourself.

JJ looked at you, his heart dropped, he so badly wanted to know what his father did to you so he could help, JJ grabbed your hands and held them in his, “please know I’m not like him. I’ll never hurt you. Never ever.”

“JJ you shouldn’t have to know, you should just go,” she whispered. Almost pulling her hands away from JJ’s warm touch.

“No. I’m not going to leave you. I’ll be here for you to talk to me okay? Tell me why he did,” JJ’s jaw clenched at the thought.

You gasped one last time before you collapsed, you hand going over your mouth as your eyes quickly blurred with tears.

JJ’s eyes softened and he reached out to pull you in, you cried into his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I can’t go back,” you mumbled, gripping a portion of his shirt into a fist.

His hands moved up and down your back. As he muttered sweet nothings to calm you down.

“Don’t stay...don’t stay...” you cried, he shouldn’t have to see you as the mess you were.

“What did he do?, princess,” JJ asked, when you first met, he called you that because you were a kook. He meant it with as much love as he could.

You sniffled, then looked up at JJ, the blue in his eyes hard to see because his pupils were so dialated, “he mad a pass at me,” you whispered, I guess that sounds not as bad as it feels, but JJ knows it affected you.

His, high aggressive Dad, hits on a young girl like Y/n, what might she think of him?

“I’m not like that? Please know that,” JJ’s voice cracked. Your hand wrapped around his torso, pulling him closer.

“I know JJ.”

[neon-junkie]

you shouldn’t have kept me waiting

Summary: Sometimes, sex doesn't go as planned, especially when it's your first time.

Pairing: f!Reader x Flaco Hernández

Word Count: 1864

Rating: NSFW

Tags: First time, First kiss, Friends to lovers, Table sex, Making out.

Notes: Wanted to try a writing style a little different to my usual stuff, and I haven't written about Flaco for like 2 hours, and it's killing me bc hes my husband, so I wrote this lil oneshot <3

  You were bored, hunting yet again in Big Valley, dumping corpse after corpse by Cripp's butchering table, hearing endless of comments of "this'll do," and "beautiful!" But he soon told you to "calm down, we have enough to keep me busy for days! How's about you take some time to enjoy yourself? Go for a ride or something?"

 And, well, you did exactly what he suggested.

 You'd been itching to go and see him again, despite swearing you'd try and stay away for a while. Obsession is the right word for it, considering you used to trail up the mountain to see him once a week, but it had slowly become twice a week, then three times, then four. You were practically moving in at this point, but he didn't mind.

 Flaco adores your company, along with a long list of other things about you, and he'd begun listing a few things off whenever you've seen him. "Pretty coat, I hope it's keeping you warm," "your horse is looking healthy, they suit you," "you must be cold, chica, your cheeks are so rosy, but eh, it looks cute."

 Oh, yes, he's pinpoints each and every single thing about you, even the things you find unattractive like the bags under your eyes or the occasional cow-lick to your hair. Flaco hadn't told you directly how he feels, but it's hard not to notice from the way his eyes light up every time you've burst through his cabin door, or the way he soon began waiting in his doorway for you to return from your missions, shouting across the frozen lake to ask if you were injured. He doesn't care about the missions, but you he definitely does care about.

 Only today went differently.

You thought you were clouding up Flaco's personal space, using the excuse of 'work' to see him as often as you could, and although he'd never shown any disliking to your frequent visits, your mind had convinced you that you were a bit too much, excessive, in his personal space. Once a week is enough to work for somebody, right? You thought it was, until you finally entered his cabin for the first time in weeks to see his furrowed brows and a pout across his face.

 "Where have you been?" Flaco had questioned, his voice rough and rugged, monotone like it used to be, back when you first met him.

 You explained that you'd been busy doing other things, your trading company, the bounty hunting work, collecting odd items for a lady you met out West, but all your excuses were literally just that in the eyes of Flaco.

 "I didn't think I'd see you again," Flaco confessed as he rose from his seat. This wasn't the first time you'd stood against him, tilting your head far back to gaze up at the much larger man, but it felt off today, as if your neck actually hurt from looking up for once. "I was worried something had happened, something... bad, you know?"

 You attempted to calm his confusion, explaining that you were fine, just busy, but Flaco still wasn't buying it. Only he finally did the second you reached out to rest your hand on his arm, kneading at him gently, a small reassuring gesture that meant the world to Flaco. He's never really touched you before, the only time being when his hands linger in yours when he hands over payments, and the only time you'd ever touched him was when you wiped some food from his face, and his look of embarrassment is one you'll never forget.

 Flaco's facial expressions alone made it obvious that he was crumbling, and he pushed back at his sombrero, letting it fall around his neck as the cord kept it in place, and dipped his head down to your level.

 You knew what was coming, you were hoping for the same, and stood on tip toes to meet Flaco in the middle. Your hand continued to knead at his arm, eventually trailing up to his shoulder as the other one joined, and Flaco cupped your jawline so perfectly that he had to move his hands to your waist to ensure your knees wouldn't give way beneath you.

 Flaco didn't taste how you thought he would, of rich chewing tobacco or a chain of cigarettes, but of whiskey and the herbs he uses to season his meals. Mint was the strongest taste, and it was rich on his tongue as yours slid across it, Flaco letting out a whimper against your lips, his moustache brushing over the sensitive skin just below your nose.

  Desperate kisses had turned needier and needier, just like the hands roaming your body, eventually dipping down to tug at your thighs. You knew what he wanted, and you knew he'd catch you if you somehow fell, so you allowed him to lift you, wrapping your legs around his waist, barely able to cross your ankles over. The sound of an array of items hitting the floor caught you off guard, and you soon realized that Flaco had swept some of his belongings from his table, replacing them with your ass instead, still nipping at your lip as you relaxed against the wood.

 Everything about him felt so intoxicating, not just his musk or the way he was holding you, but the groan he let out as you broke the kiss to nip at his neck. Who knew a man so rugged could sound so poetic? and he watched with half-lidded eyes as you moved your hands down his chest, trailing over the thick fur of his coat, over each cold bullet strapped to his bandoliers, and settled at his gun belt.

 The belt hit the cabin floor with a thud, and Flaco moved his hands from your thighs to your waist, gently unpicking each button to your pants, though you can sense his eagerness as he fiddles with them. One of your boots is slipped off, followed by your pants and undergarments being pulled from under your ass, letting the cold air hit one leg, and leaving the other clothed.

 Flaco popped a thick finger into your mouth before pressing it against your entrance, returning his lips to yours as he slowly pushed himself in, chuckling at the moan you'd let out against his lips. His chuckle soon turned into a sigh once you got your own revenge, reaching beneath his coat to unfasten his pants, and free his thick member from his undergarments, pumping him slowly as you feel his precum run across the back of your fingers.

 A pair of dark eyes met yours, gazing at you for mere seconds, yet it felt like minutes. Lips were reunited, and both of you spent some time working at each other, prepping each other, finally able to feel and enjoy the other after too many months of tension and frustration.

 You'd guided Flaco to your entrance, looking up at him with lustful eyes as you pressed the tip of his cock to your hole. Flaco pulled his finger from you, "how can I deny you?" he questioned in a voice so deep it made you tremble, and he grinned at your body's response. But Flaco soon began melting into you as he pushed his cock in, taking it inch by inch, both of you sighing in unison once he was fully sheathed inside of you.

 You moaned his name and he moaned yours, cupping your jawline with his calloused hand. Flaco nuzzled you briefly, pressing his forehead to yours as his eyes fell shut, before placing a kiss on your forehead. He didn't say anything, and you could tell he was lost for words, but he soon began thrusting into you.

 The rolling of his hips was deep and smooth, slow and steady, both pleasurable and painful at the same time. There was no actual pain, Flaco could never hurt you, but it was agony having him go at this speed; you've needed him for so long, and now you finally have him, but of course he's going to make you wait just a little longer. There was a smug grin on his face as you began mewling in his arms, head buried into the curve of his neck, his cold bullets pressed against your cheek as you began to whimper.

 "What's a matter?" Flaco questioned in a playful tone. "This not enough for you, eh? You make me wait weeks to see you, and then demand everything at once?"

 He wasn't serious, you know that, and it was painfully obvious as he was visibly biting at his lip in an attempt to stop himself from grinning. What a tease. But Flaco was quick to give in, not just because you needed it, but because so did he.

  If you said you hadn't thought about this before, you'd be lying; you've imagined Flaco railing you just about everywhere in this cabin, but you always thought the table would be the dodgy spot. It's an old piece of furniture, somehow still standing in the harsh terrain, but remained standing as Flaco slammed into you on top of it. You were careful not to knock the candles over as you relaxed into the wood, your eyes flicking between watching Flaco's length disappear into you, and watching the expression of pure lust on his face.

 You were surprised he'd waited this long, seeing as there's been many opportunities to pull you onto his lap, but something must have burst in Flaco's mind when you disappeared for a few weeks, and you wouldn't be surprised if he made a promise to himself to come onto you the second you returned.

 The sounds Flaco made were intoxicating, grumbles and groans at all different levels of volume, but he fell silent as he came. Flaco had pulled you up off the table and wrapped his arms around you, holding himself deep inside and burying his head into the curve of your neck, arching his back over so he could hold you, and be held at the same time. "Mierda," he muttered to himself, his voice muffled by your coat. "Too much, too fast, augh!" he grumbled, and finally stood upright to look at you.

 "I'm sorry," he had said, and avoided eye contact with you as you tilted your head in confusion. "I... I came too fast," he grumbled, and slipped himself from you.

 You had to bite back on your laughter. Really? This grown man, a legend, is pouting like a child because he came within minutes during your first time together. "It's alright," you smiled at him. "We'll just have to build your stamina back up, hm?" you suggested.

 Flaco looked at you blankly before bursting into laughter, placing a kiss to your temple and then your cheek. "You tolerate me too much," he chuckled, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his heart at your kind response.

 "Now, come on," he said as he pulled you up from the table, letting you dress yourself as he tucked himself away. "Let's hear all about what you've been doing over these last few weeks..."

[ahlis-xiv]

journal 50.4

G’raha sat alone, semi-hunched over a piece of parchment as he worked. Although he did not show it, the drafting he ambitiously began was nothing short of a place between fascinating and downright tediousness. The solution to tempering that nestled within his mind and finding a proper way to convey it into some sort of physicality that others could understand took time and a level of focus that brought him back to his Studium days.

He did not mind the effort, really, yet part of him couldn’t help but feel he could be applying himself to something else...namely figuring out why his dear friend decided to depart in such a hurry without so much as a word.

G’raha sighed, and scratched out part of the formulae he attempted to use as a proper proof. It wasn’t correct or, rather, not good enough, and he knew it: it almost felt like he had to somehow invent a whole new notation and he was second guessing every attempt. That, he knew, was as strong a sign as any that he needed a break.

Abandoning his work for the more welcoming sight above Mor Dhona proper, he took to his usual perch and leaned over the ledge to watch the activity below. Ever since he arrived there—since waking up, really—G’raha found the habit of people-watching a welcome one when it came to clearing his head. It had also been an old habit as well from his time as the Exarch. It was difficult at times to not be reminded of it when he went there to be alone--not that it troubled him, but rather his thoughts inevitably wandered to those he had to let go. To old friends and, naturally, to her.

What would Lyna think, he wondered. Of everything? Despite assurances, both given and told to own self, he knew it was a question not quite answerable. He was unfettered, free—free to live the life he wished. A second chance. Yet something gnawed away at his heart that only grew in the wake of what occurred in Ala Mhigo. And the Warrior of Light was nowhere in sight.

He didn’t wish to admit it, but that this point most of all prickled his thoughts. She had been wounded in the confrontation: not severely but enough to warrant considerable healing, namely for her arms. She berated herself for not properly handling the situation, that it was foolish to not deal with Fandaniel and his summoning there and then somehow. When the dust settled with wounds seen to and mended, she slipped away and out of his reach.

G’raha’s hands clasped together in front of him, fretting as his anxiety swelled. Ahlis said many things in the aftermath at the menagerie; much of which he knew was said in a fury he rarely witnessed. He also knew he ought to not dwell on it, as it was not directed towards him—but it felt personal, watching the anger and the walls that suddenly erected around her, forbidding his approach. Surely she knew, she must’ve known that he cared—that they all cared? G’raha understood what it meant to seek solace, to lick one’s wounds after a poor bout in battle, yet to shut him out? Why?

He huffed a frustrated growl, and pouted to himself. This is not about you, G’raha, his more sensible self spoke in his mind. It did little to help when he knew naught what to do with his...feelings, with no soul to utter them to. For the moment, all he had in certainty, was himself.

Looking above to the darkening sky, stars were beginning to sparkle in the deep blue, the gloom weak and unable to hinder their shine. He hoped that wherever Ahlis was, and however she felt, that her safety was sure and her healing swift.

---

Ahlis suddenly grasped the pillow within her bare arms as a sneeze escaped her nose and immediately regretted it.

“Bless you, dearest,” Aymeric spoke above her, his hands gently working her back’s aches and pains into a soothing massage.

“Augh, no,” she said, voice muffled by soft cotton where she shoved her face into it. The great debate of whether she should lift her head up or not kept her in place, lest she reveal a potentially not-so-graceful mess. “I think I ruined it.”

Wordlessly and only with a soft chuckle of amusement Aymeric rose to retrieve a handkerchief as if reading her mind in her current discomfort. When he returned Ahlis was already sitting up, the pillow still pressed to her face. He did not know how to assure her that there were far worse things that could ruin one’s bedding, but seeing the flushed look upon her face while she cleaned herself as discretely as possible encouraged him to say nothing.

“Are you feeling better?” Aymeric asked, once she seemed satisfied to show herself, the pillow and handkerchief no longer covering her face.

“Yes, thank you,” Ahlis spoke, relief entering her voice. “I am sorry, about this, though.” Her hands still held onto the pillow until he reached for it himself, lightly tossing it aside and back onto the bed.

“It is of no consequence. My home is yours, including the aforementioned pillow.”

That made Ahlis laugh, as he hoped it would, and Aymeric took this moment to join her again, sitting side by side upon the edge of the bed. It was useless however to ignore the wrappings around both her palms and forearms, both of which had been kept out of sight when lying on her stomach. Catching his glancing eyes, Ahlis took that moment to adjust her bandages.

“The pain is mostly gone. Now it’s just itching,” she spoke, more annoyed than in any sort of true discomfort. “New skin takes some getting used to and breaking in, imagine that.”

“May I see it?” Aymeric asked after a moment’s pause, his voice careful in its near-whisper like intensity.

For a second, she hesitated. Unraveling them didn’t hurt much anymore, so when she did reveal the newly healed burns that rested beneath she didn’t hold back in extending her arm in front of him. If only her heart that thumped heavily in her chest agreed! Nerves, however troublesome they proved to be, would do little in assuaging his concern.

“There you are,” Ahlis said with an exuberance she hoped sounded sure and confident. “It’s not so terrible now, aye?”

It was not her intent to fool him, rather, it was better than the ire she felt deep within at how it happened, and better still than to appear caught off-guard or foolish to have been struck at all by such an injury. It had been a mistake, one that could’ve gone even more horribly wrong in an instant if not for…

“Oh, Ahlis...”

Her thoughts stopped, everything stopped. She was helpless as she watched the shock that touched his eyes turn to despair, to pain that flowed into the tenderness that came with his touch as he cradled her wrist to his cheek. There was a knot of scarred tissue just below where his lips met her skin; the first kiss was given there, then another just above it towards her palm.

Such sensations, intensified against her freshly healed wounds, rendered her voice frozen within her throat. It was almost too much; she released a heavy, shaky breath that gave him pause, and Aymeric turned to look upon her so intensely, so painfully, she dared think she might cry herself.

“It’s fine,” she found herself saying, finally, unsure if it truly was after all.

---

Later, long after they had gone to bed, she would wake to see the stars out in the beyond just outside the window, the silhouette of spires cutting across the dark. A rare, clear night in the city. Gripped by the sight, she stole herself away to find a place to write...

Evenings have proven to be the best, and only time, to write clear-headed these days. As if I do not need sleep.

The itching has finally subsided enough to carry on without thinking about it and now I can finally sit for half a bell to write while at the same time not wishing to scratch my skin off. I’ve had lacerations, all manners of bruising and concussive injuries. I’ve even been shot at! But note to self: never get fucking burned like that again.

I’m going to kill that bastard with his own medicine, and I will enjoy it

[there is a drawing here of a figure in a robe with a sword skewering it all the way through, who is also on fire]

The healing has progressed as it will, and I trust Krile and Alphinaud’s hands more than any other—although granted my sourness over it all could have been a little less scathing, I guess.

But what can I say, a lot of bullshite has been happening these days. I’m getting a mite bit enraged that these Ascian arseholes aren’t leaving me alone, and yet I am not entirely surprised. It’s not over until it is over.

gods when will that be never ah ha ha ha

In the meantime I have made good on my own promises to make my own self comfortable as best I can, heal as best I am able, and spending what time I can in Ishgard. The others are probably wondering when I’ll return to the Stones but until G’raha outlines our approach on implementing proper protocol on the tempering solution I honestly don’t want to hear about anything else. Alisaie should be helping, I am sure, as is Alphinaud too I think. It’ll be fine! And fast too.

I mean I would help more too but I don’t have a crazy as all hells academic background as they do seven hells I’d love me a curriculum found in the Studium within those stupid halls and their even stupider “zero involvement” stance on bloody everything

share your goddamn science you twits

I am far more tired than I thought. But! I am also finally able to think about the impending reconnaissance we’re bound to have soon once Thancred and Urianger return.

if something happens with them I swear to ever loving shite I am going to boot them back to the First with my fist

Without my Stupid! Arms! Annoying me!

OH is that little

[the writing stops here with an ink blot, as if the pen was dropped and left there, the smeared and distinct shape of a cat’s paw crossing part of the page]

[jimbotnik-fanboy-smh]

Hello there! Can I request a Male Reader x Robotnik where Robotnik wants to slow dance with their reader for the first time and eventually have the reader get their first kiss from Robotnik?

Of course!! This is!!! So cute!! :))!!Warnings: none. There are none. It’s all fluff. I guess there are a lot of repressed feelings and mabye some repressed homosexuality.Male!Reader!!

---[+]--- It had been a while since you’d been hired by one of the biggest, strangest tech lords in the ‘’fantastic’’ united states of the great America. Of course, this was.... Sarcasm. You didn’t really like it in the USA. But, it was whatever. The Doctor wouldn’t exactly let you leave. He made sure to have you by his side at all times. For some reason. He was always either stoeic, or absolutely unhinged. So you made sure to keep him calm. His actual name was Ivo, but he wouldn’t let you call him that. It was all Doctor and Sir and Dr. Robotnik. Weird names for a weird guy, you assumed.  But, of course, there was something that ruined this otherwise... Normal-ish assisstant job. You were sort of into The Doctor. Aka your boss. He was just... Your type. Tall, lanky, a bit nonsensical, dark eyes, a bit dark in general.... Kinda evil. It wasn’t your fault that every single movie villain was so goddamn sexy. You sighed, looking down at the tray you were holding. God, sometimes you felt like a butler. Honestly, you didn’t really mind, but... Whatever. You quickly knocked on the door, hearing a muttered ``come in....`` from the other side of the metal sliding door. It opened, and you walked in, giving the Doctor a quick smile. ``Your lunch, Sir. I got your red bull, that one chicken salad you requested last time, a ham and cheese sandwich and some painkillers.`` Your posture straightened up the second you walked into the room, and your voice became more clear and proffessional. You had learned from many run-ins with him that being meek wouldn’t make him happy. He’d just tell you to pin yourself against the wall and lecture you on the importance of standing up for yourself. Usually followed by a sort of sad look from him, and then being thrown out of his office. So yeah.... Best to stay proffessional.  ``Just leave it on the table, Agent.`` The Doctor replied, clearly busy with something. He waved a gloved hand toward a messy table, and you held back a sigh, seeing the mess of old plates, utensils and old cans of redbull. You moved it all out of the way as best as you could, placing the tray down. You could feel his eyes on you. Strange. Usually he’d be much too absorbed in his work... You looked back, seeing him fiddling with his hands, leaning on his workstation. ``What are you working on, Sir?`` You asked, seemingly snapping him out of his thoughts. He shook his head, turning back to his work, looking at it for a moment. You walked up behind him, looking at the work. It was messy. Just a clump of wires and a red eyeball looking thing. You shot a worried look over at him, and he seemed to flinch a bit, straightening up. ``It’s... Not important.`` He answered, waving the thoughts away with his hand, the leather squeaking slightly as he curled it into a half-hearted fist. You walked back to the table with the tray with a light smile, starting to pick up some plates and such, looking back at him. He was looking at you. His eyes were set... A bit lower than usual. You were probably just imagining things. This wasn’t about you anyways. He seemed.... Really out of it today. And not the normal sort of out of it that he could usually get into. He seemed... Nervous. ``Wait. Agent. Set the plates down. I have a request..`` You did as you were told, placing the plates down and folding your arms behind your back, calmly looking at him. ``I’m all ears, Sir. I’m here to help after all.`` You said, giving a light chuckle. For a second, in the bright glow of the floating screens, he looked almost... Embarrassed. Shy, even. God, you needed to stop imagining things. He was probably just going to ask for an extra sandwich or something. But why would he be so nervous about that? Something had to be going on. ``Well.... I was wondering if you.. Perhaps. Wanted to... Dance. With me.`` He said, grabbing a peice from the unfinished robot, fiddling with it. You didn’t even notice the suprise on your face before Ivo jolted a bit, tossing the peice. ``Augh- Forget it. Forget it. That was an idiotic question. You’re... free to go.`` He said, whirling back to his creation. You could tell he wasn’t actually working when his hands started moving. He was just tearing the thing apart. ``Sir I-`` You started, taking a deep breath. How could you possibly make this sound proffessional at all... ``I would love to have this dance with you.`` You slowly said, reaching out your hand as you moved a bit closer. Ivo turned slowly, looking down at your hand blinking. You gave a smile and a slow, encouraging nod. He took your hand. He actually took it. The leather of his gloves felt soft against your hand. It felt nice.. You pulled him in a bit closer, smiling up at him as you took the first step of a dance you learned long, long ago. Before any of this. He sheepishly followed along, learning the pattern of the dance just as quickly as you had hoped. You brought him in a bit closer, feeling how tense he was. His shoulders were pulled up so high, they damn near touched the top of his head. You brought up a gentle hand to his shoulder, and he seemed to flinch just a little before slowly lowering his shoulders. ``Relax, Doctor. You’re doing amazing.`` You muttered, smiling yet again, rubbing your thumb against his shoulder, drawing small circles with it. Slowly, you closed your eyes, starting to hum a gentle melody, syncing it up with the steps of the dance. This seemed to relax him a bit more, and somewhat helped his rythm. He really couldn’t focous when he wa nervous and you knew this. So it was your job to make sure he was relaxing. You figured you were doing a pretty good job. Plus, he didn’t need to know how much you were enjoying this. You leaned in, resting your head on his chest, feeling his hand shyly drift down to your waist. That made you shiver... He must’ve noticed. You could feel his heartbeat pick up ever so slightly. Different music started flowing through the lab. The same song you’d been humming, but it was the actual version, the one with instruments and shit. Not just you, humming aganst your Boss’ chest. You looked up, and Ivo was smiling. You smiled back, laughing lightly as you pickd up the pace, causing him to trip a little. A mischevious laugh escaped you, and he laughed aswell, pulling you in. ``Oh, you’re getting it now, Mister.`` He said, his voice teasing and filled with a mischeif that was highly unusual for him. Before you could reply, he was spinning you around, leading the dance. He was a really good dancer, and you knew, but you didn’t know he could dance like this. You barely even thought he liked other people, much less dancing with them. But here you were, laughing as Ivo spun you around, bringing you in before spinning you again, Sometimes the dance slowed down a bit, but there was always a sense of humour to it. Always a whirring sense of energy in the air. Up until the song ended. He spun you around, dipping you down as the last note hit. You gave a laugh, calming down a bit, slowling your breathing. It was quiet for a bit, nothing but the two of your catching your breaths. Then you looked up at him. At his face. At his eyes, hiding behind those dark, intimidating glasses. And you saw him. Fully saw him. Not as a two-sided coin of either manic energy or stoeic nature, but as the complex being he always had been. He looked so much.. Smaller now. Tired. Nervous. Just like you.  You slowly brought a hand up to his face, hesitantly removing his glasses. he let you. His eyes were greyish, a little darker than you would’ve thought. You met his eyes, and knew what was going to happen. You had both been waiting for it for so long.... He hesitantly moved in, and you closed the gap, feeling him melt as he brought you up to a standing position, pulling back a bit. ``I..... Thank you. For the dance.... And.... That. I’ve never.... Done that before. It was.. Enjoyable. You’re good at it.`` He said, awkwardly coughing as he turned to look at the screen, his face almost entirely flushed. You gave a light laugh, turning his face and gently pressing your lips against his. He melted yet again. What a big softie... ``You’re not bad yourself, Sir.`` He gave a chuckle, bringing you into a light hug. ``Please... Call me Ivo.`` ---[+]--- Wowa wowa!! Uhhhh Mad pogz, Ig??  Honestly, I just love writing soft Botnik, and this was perfect. Thank you so much for the request!! I hope this scratched your Jimbotnik Fluff itch!! #jimbotnik #dr robotnik #fluff #x reader #x Male!reader #dancing #slowdancing #fanfiction #sonicmovie #thesonicmovie #jimbotnik x reader #jimbotnik x Male!reader #dr robotnik x reader #dr robotnik x male!reader

[valeriethepussycats]

Inside Out

Chapter 2

Pairing- Loki x Reader

Warning- cursing

Your thoughts and other characters are in italics. Flashbacks are in bold.

In the aftermath of the battle, the Marauders had all been shackled together and lined up for their trip back to Asgard, and to prison. Escorted by the Einherjar, they made their way over to where Heimdall would open the Bifrost. All the while the Vanir watched, thankful that their realm was now free from danger. The Vanir sighed. Yes, their campground and village had been destroyed and mostly burned down in the fierce battle, but they would rebuild. They were a strong race, and this is what made them a part of the Nine Realms.

Hogun the Grim was talking to a Vanir woman and her child, but broke off his conversation to rejoin Thor. “I am ready,” the warrior said, his mace at his side.

“No,” Thor began, as he gently placed his hand on the warrior’s chest. “The peace is nearly won across the Nine Realms. It’s best to be where your heart is. For now, Asgard can wait.”

Hogun clenched his black mace. He wanted Thor to know that this was his battle just as much as it was Thor’s. He wanted Thor to know that he would fight till the end to bring peace, not only to Vanaheim, but to the Nine Realms. Yet Hogun didn’t have to say this. After years of battling monsters, Frost Giants, and ungodly beasts, these two friends had an unspoken bond. Thor knew how Hogun felt. And Thor also knew that Hogun had a family to watch over. Hogun closed his eyes and sighed, then looked over at his family. Thor was right.

Hogun the Grim nodded to the Mighty Thor, grateful and thankful for his old friend’s compassion. If it wasn’t for Thor, Hogun’s people and family would not be here. “You have my thanks,” Hogun said as the two clasped wrists.

“And you, mine,” Thor said as Hogun returned to his hillside ridge and his wife and child.

“Thor looked to the bright, blue skies to signal the keeper of the Bifrost, the all-seeing, all-knowing sentry Heimdall. “Heimdall, when you are ready!” But as the Bifrost blasted down from the sky and transported everyone back to Asgard”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Loki is in his cell pacing back and forth. Thinking of all the events that had happened.

This is about someone else you are not worthy of.

What does it mean to be worthy of someone? Odin brought Y/n here to spite him to show him what he lost and could never get back. But he didn’t let that worry him right now. He was more concerned about Y/n, those black veins appeared on neck when she was feeling stressed out.

“Does Y/n have another power?” he mumbled to himself.

Y/n appears in behind Loki. “My lord or is it my prince ?” Y/n wondered. “I don’t know nothing about royal customs.”

“How are you here?” Loki questioned as he walks up to Y/n and touches her face.

“Odin gave me the two weeks.” Y/n answered.

“I find that hard to believe.” Loki divulged.

“Wow I thought the dungeons would be dark and gloomy.” Y/n said looking around.

“Well this dress looks familiar.”

“It does doesn’t it.”

Loki grabs Y/n’s hand and spin her around and they start to sway. “Your mother is amazing and so beautiful.”

“Yes she is but I think I met a person who’s is equally as beautiful.” Loki said dipping Y/n, while doing so he looks at her neck and doesn’t see the black veins.

“I do not know of such person.” Y/n said with a smile.

“Me neither. But I guess only time will tell.”

Y/n looks at Loki, this is what true happiness is being with him even if it’s in a cell. It’s like a longing feeling she’s been having is gone. Y/n lends up and kisses Loki with every in her. The kiss was soft and slow, revealing the intensity of the moment. He pulled away and catches his breath.

“I miss you.” Loki said staring deep into Y/n’s eyes

“I miss you.” Y/n said without missing a beat.

Loki grabs Y/n in his arms and start to sway. He know that he shouldn’t ask about it but he can’t help it he has to know if something is wrong, if she’s ok.

“Y/n.”

Y/n had laid her head on Loki’s shoulder lost in the moment. “Mmh.”

“Are your powers growing?” Loki said with a voice soft with affection.

“Ya, why you ask.”

“Black veins appeared on neck earlier.”

“Powers are connected to my emotions so when ever I feel strongly about something they start to flares up.” Y/n explained.

“You are going to be alright?” Loki said with a worried voice.

“Ya I am....now.” Y/n said as she lean back and wraps her arms around his neck then looked at him with curiosity in her eyes. “Since we’re asking questions, we’re you ok....back on earth?”

“Of course.” Loki lied.

“It’s just....you feel like how you was in the dream world.” Y/n said not convince.

“We are in your mind......perhaps it was something you did.” Loki said in his best to take the conversation off him.

“Maybe.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Heavy broadswords clashed against shields, spears were thrown at high velocity toward their targets, and armored guards battled against one another in elaborate war games. Led by Tyr, the Einherjar drill instructor known for the metal hand that replaced the real one that he had lost long ago in glorious battle, these were the Asgardian training grounds, and they were very, very active. Above it all circled two large black ravens. They watched the proceedings with keen interest before landing on a ledge next to the King of Asgard, Odin Allfather, who looked down at his troops. While still a great sovereign leader, Odin was growing older, and with age came the fatigue and weariness that only ruling can bring.

“Is Vanaheim secure?”

“As are Nornheim and Ria. Though our work would have gone more quickly with you at the fore.” Thor said in a level way.

“You must think I'm a piece of bread that needs to be buttered so heavily.” Odin said in a curious tone.

“That was not my intent.” Thor said in his best way to assure Odin.

“For the first time since the Bifrost was destroyed, the Nine Realms are at peace. They're well reminded of our strength and you have earned their respect and my gratitude.” Odin proclaimed proudly.

“Thank you.”

“Nothing out of order except your confused and distracted heart.”

“This isn't about Jane Foster, Father.”

“Human lives are fleeting, they are nothing.” Odin declared. “You'd be better served by what lies in front of you.” Odin said as he briefly turns to look at Sif. “I'm telling you this not as the all-father but as your father. You are ready. The time has come for you to take the throne. Embrace and celebrate what you've won. Join your warriors. Eat and drink, revel in their celebration......At least pretend to enjoy yourself.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

And as they celebrate, as he watches the others enjoying themselves it's obvious his heart is not in it, he walks over to the balcony to join Sif.

“There was a time you would celebrate for weeks.” Sif said with a moment's reflection.

“I remember you celebrated the battle of Haragon so much that you nearly started a second.” Thor teased softly.

“Well, the first was so much fun.” Sif joked.

They both smile. “Take a drink with me. Surely the All-Father could have no further task for you tonight.”

“No, this is one I set myself.” Thor said with his mind else where.

“It has not gone unnoticed that you disappear each night. There are Nine Realms.

Future king of Asgard must focus on more than one.” Sir said sounded slightly brittle.

“I thank you for your sword and for your counsel, good Lady Sif.” he turns and walks off the balcony. As he’s about to leave the palace he hears a familiar voice, with curiosity he follows the sound.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Y/n and Gambit are outside on the balcony looking over Asgard. Both of them makes an check mark in the air to symbolize that they’ve been inside a castle/palace not knowing that they wanted to. Y/n still can’t believe she’s here she never thought she would be able to come to Asgard.

“The king is letting me stay for two weeks.” Y/n announced walking on the edge of the balcony.

“Because of Loki. Y’know I would love to meet him.” Gambit said as his eyes burning a darker red then before.

“Ya, no that’s not happening, he’s not met you.“ Y/n aughed.

“Why not?” Gambit said in a curious way.

“I can see it now the ‘dad talk ‘if you hurt my Y/n, I’ll hunt you down.’” Y/n said waving her finger at Gambit.

“Hell he needs to know that if he hurts you I’ll kill him.” Gambit said meaning the words more seriously than they sounded.

You will kill him and my dad would bring him back and kill him again and then kill me for falling for him

“Are you sure you’re going to be ok here? I know your powers are growing and any little thing could set you off.” Gambit said, kneading his face.

Y/n gets down from the balcony and walks over to Gambit. She puts both of her hands on his shoulders. “Gambit, I’m gonna be fine.” Y/n said with a warm smile. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Petit, I always worry.” Gambit said, pursing his lips.

”And I love you for it.” Y/n said with a smile.

Y/n grabs Gambit arm and they walks off the balcony. “Let go back to the celebration. I don’t think we’ve drink enough.”

“Petit, you had four glasses of wine.” Gambit exposed.

“My water intake makes it really hard to get drunk you know that. I just feel funny but in a good way.” Y/n explained.

Gambit laughs.

“I could fly you around the city.” Y/n said giggled. “We’ll get to see very thing then.”

“Y/n?!” Thor called out from down the hallway.

“Thor!” Y/n speed walks over to him. “I thought you were on Vanaheim.”

“I was.” Thor said bear hugging Y/n. “How are you here?”

“Your father brought me here.” Y/n answered.

“Because of Loki.” Thor noted.

“Ya he’s supposed to spin the rest of his days in the dungeons.” Y/n said with an eye roll.

“Loki gets what he deserves.” Thor remarked.

“Come on now we’re doing the tough guy act.....how’ve you’ve been?”

“Fine.” Thor said in a casual tone.

“Lier.” Y/n said with a small smile.

Gambit finally makes his way up to Thor and Y/n. “Thor this is Gambit, Gambit this is Thor.”

“The god of thunder..Y/n has told me a lot about you.” Gambit said holding it his hand for Thor to shake.

Thor shakes Gambit’s hand. “I wish I can say the same but it is my fault.”

“Don’t worry bout.” Gambit said with flashing eyes.

“We was just about to get A tour of the palace but the person disappeared.....” Y/n trailed of.

“I could show you around.” Thor suggested.

“I would like that.” Y/n smiled.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

It was a typically rainy day in London, and astrophysicist Jane Foster was nervous. She was running late for a meeting, but not one that had to do with science or what had happened a few years back in New Mexico. Nor was it anything S.H.I.E.L.D.-related. No, for Jane, this was much worse: Jane had a date.

Jane regarded herself in her bedroom mirror as she put on more eye shadow. Then, for the fourth time in five minutes, she brushed her brown hair. Then she fixed her shirt again. Then it was back to her hair. With a sigh, Jane finally gave in. She grabbed her jacket and made her way through her tiny flat to the door, passing a variety of scientific equipment along the way. As Jane slammed the door, she was unaware that one of her scanners had suddenly come to life and begun to go haywire.

“Inside the Italian restaurant, Jane hid her face behind her menu, lifting it only slightly to peek across at her date, Richard, and give him a practiced smile. It was clear, at least to her, that she did not want to be there. Jane is looking at her menu feeling awkward when Richard slides a napkin in front of her with the word 'Hi' written on it.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“So what's the story with you?” Richard asked.

“Why does there have to be a story, there's no story.” Jane answered.

“You've spent the first ten minutes of our date hiding behind a menu that has three choices on it. It's either chicken, vegetarian or fish, Jane. I think there's a story and I'm thinking the story involves a guy?” Richard wondered.

“It's complicated.” Jane disclosed.

“Is he still around?” Richard asked.

“No, he...went away.” Jane answered.

“I've been there. The going away, it's hard. I'd been seeing a woman and uh...she took a job in New York, eventually the distance killed it. And...and the fact that she uh...she kept sleeping with other dudes.” Richard explained.

“No!” Jane said in horror.

“Oh, so many.”

Darcy walks up to Jane and Richard's table.

“Hi. Um...could we get some wine please?” Richard asked.

“Sure, I'd love some.” Darcy said looking at Richard.

“Richard, this is Darcy.” Jane explained then she looks over at Darcy. “What are you doing here?”

Darcy grabs a chair from the opposite table and drags it across to their table.

“Oh, hello.”

Darcy sits next to Jane and helps herself to a piece of bread and starts buttering it.“So, I show up to work at the lab-slash-your mom's house, fully expecting you to be moping around in your pajamas eating ice cream obsessing about you know who...

“Ah.”

“But you're not! You're wearing lady clothes, you even showered, didn't you? You smell good.” Darcy said with a encouraging smiles.

“Is there a point to all this, cause there really has to be a point to all this.” Jane stated.

“Right. You know that scientific equipment you don't look at anymore? You might wanna start looking at it now.” Darcy said gives Jane the gadget.

“This is the reason we came all the way out here.” Darcy started.

“It's malfunctioning.” Jane answered.

“That's what I said.”

Jane starts hitting the gadget on the table.

“That's what I did! But you just hit a little more scientific.” Darcy said as she shrug her shoulders.

“I’m sure it's nothing.” Jane remarked.

“Yeah.” Richard agreed.

Jane hands the gadget back to Darcy. “It didn't look like nothing. Kind of looks like the readings that Erik was rambling about.” Darcy said to Jane then look over at Richard. “Our friend Erik, kind of went banana-balls.”

“He's not interested. I'm not interested. Time for you to go now.” Jane said with a controlled smile.

“Okay.” Darcy rises and drags her chair back to where she got it from, then turns and walks off.

“Short but sweet.” Richard expressed.

“She needs help.” They start looking at their menus again, but Jane looks distracted by what Darcy told her.

“I think I'm gonna have the sea bass.” Richard announced.

“Sea bass. Yeah, sea bass is good.” Jane nodded agreeably.

To herself as she thinks about what Darcy showed her. “Sea bass, sea bass, sea bass, sea bass, sea bass, sea bass, sea bass...sea bass. Sea bass...”

“Jane, maybe you should stop saying sea bass and go out to your friend.” Richard suggested.

Jane looks at him awkwardly. “This was so fun.”

“You know, I'll just stay here and say sea bass alone.”

[okaybutlikeimagine]

Hello. Thoughts on Dads!Harringrove??? the boys like in their mid 40s with 3 kids. what type of parents do you think they’ll be??? will their grandpa jim spoil them??? i love harringrove parents w all my heart. they both deserve a big happy family of their own 🥰

Hello, my thoughts are it’s the cutest damn thing ever and i could cry just thinking about it aUGH HARRINGROVE DADS.

Okay, so i’ve read quite a few things talking about the Harringrove Dads and adopting little babies, adopting sweet little girls, etc. and i absolutely live and die for that shit. Like i’m so serious, i think it’s so sweet, it warms my heart, i eat it up, i LOVE it

But also (and i’m sure i’m not the first to say it) I feel like they’re NOT the type to go adopting babies. They’re not getting a surrogate to raise a kid from infancy. They may want to, they may have that inkling, they may see Jonathan and Nancy having a baby and get that infamous Baby Fever, but I just… I really can’t bring myself to write that.

Bc (in my canon) Billy was adopted as a 17 year old delinquent. El was adopted as a 12 year old lab rat. Steve was basically abandoned at home when he got too old to be the “cute little boy” their parents could tote around to promote their Nuclear Family image. They’re two boys who were made very keenly aware that there are shitty people out there who believe kids get less desirable the older they get. Shitty people who think babies are worth more than older kids who probably just come with “problems”.

(i’ve also been rewatching Boy Meets World and GUYS. i see a lot of Billy in Shawn Hunter. Boy who’s taken in bc he’s been neglected and he’s a sensitive kid underneath but he’s got this hard, bad boy shell bc it’s easier than crying every day)(AUGH and just like Will in Fresh Prince goddamnit i fucking LIVE for those kids who think and act all tough and use their pretty looks like a weapon but all they really need is a caring and stern hand who’s gonna keep them on the straight and narrow and help them out along the way i am SOFT.)

So if these boys have 3 kids, it’s 3 kids who were seen as the “worst” of the bunch. 3 kids they fought to connect with bc these kids didn’t see anything in themselves anymore but goddamnit, Steve and Billy saw 3 kids beat and broken by the system that told them the older they got, the smaller their chances were of ever getting out of this place. They came with problems and fears and shells harder than Billy’s steel toed boots but like hell were Billy and Steve going to let these kids go the rest of their lives thinking they were damaged goods.

(god now i wanna write OCs of their children. look what you did to me!)

Okay so their parenting style changes as they grow and adopt more kids, as what happens with most parents. They learn what’s good and what’s not so good and they get better at fixing problems (but of course it’s never quite that easy bc they’re adopting kids of different ages).

And of course i’m saying they adopt the kids everyone has turned away, but for their first kid they adopt a little boy, about 5 years old, bc they gotta start small. He’s very cute and has a bit of a lisp and he mixes up some of his letters and he’s… energetic. He runs and he screams and he tires himself out real quick to the point where he just flops down and takes naps where he is, meaning there has been more than one occasion where Billy or Steve has found the child sleeping face first in the middle of a room (the entry room seems to be his favorite. Billy doesn’t blame him, the carpet is softer there than anywhere else.) One time he even flopped down on the middle of the sidewalk and again in the middle of a department store. Both times Billy scooped him up like a rag doll and carried him around the rest of their trip out.

And i know it’s not the BEST movie but i can’t help but think their parenting at the beginning would be a bit like the movie Big Daddy. Like, a lot of well-intentioned but misguided advice, a lot of “real world” lessons (like how to piss on the side of the road), a lot of hurried and frazzled solutions to things because “kids are messy why are kids so fucking messy why can’t he ever stay clean?”

“He’s just a kid, Steve, c’mon-”

“He’s always sticky! How! How is he always sticky? What’s making him so sticky!”

And I just!! Augh!! Imagine Steve at work all day and Billy has off/maybe he’s inbetween jobs right now so he can be home with the kid/whatever and so he has errands to run and takes their little kid with him and the kid’s like:

“What’s your real name?”

“You know that. It’s Billy.”

“…. why?”

And Billy shrugs with an “I dunno, cuz I couldn’t talk and my parents could and they had to call me somethin.”

“You could’n talk?”

“Hey, you couldn’t either.”

The boy thinks for a second before: “Could too.”

“Could not. Not when you were a baby.” He pokes the boy in the shoulder, still very tentative with how much the little tike can take. “Don’t start attacking me! You didn’t name yourself.”

They walk for a second but Billy chimes in before the kid can.

“Hey, that’s not fair though, is it?”

The boy looks up and shakes his head, but he can see the confusion in his eyes.

“You should be able to name yourself, right? What do you want your name to be? Anything in the world, what do you want me to call you?”

Which is how Steve comes home to their child and Billy eating some baby carrots smothered in BBQ sauce and his husband telling him: “By the way, the kid’s new name is Hot Dog.”

“…. what?”

“He picked it out himself.”

And just imagine Billy and the kid are going grocery shopping and Billy catches the boy reaching for a can of spaghetti-o’s.

Billy reaches for the can and takes it off the shelf. “You like these?”

The kid nods.

“Alright then. Watch out-” he hold the kid back gently before chucking the can at the ground. He turns to his boy. “Dented cans are half off. Y’know, Microsoft dropped 3 points.”

His kid nods in awe.

“Wanna pick that up for me?” Billy asks and the kid follows, before rearing the can back to throw it on the ground.

“Woah woah woah! Watch it there!” Billy grabs the boy’s arm, before aiming it a different way. “Aim away from your feet… there ya go. I know they’re kinda tiny targets but still, don’t wanna give yourself a flat tire there.”

The kid chucks it and Billy laughs. “Nice job, little dude.”

And i just have so many THOUGHTS about this!!! Their second kid being a little 9 year old girl who’s real fucking good at boxing and fighting and also a little too good at sneaking out the window. They’ve caught her a few times in the backyard or the front yard, just sitting around shivering. It always gives Billy and Steve a heart attack.

“What are you doing out here?” Steve asks, kneeling down to look at the girl, Billy taking note of her hands balled up into little fists.

“I heard a… noise. A loud noise.”

“Oh, yeah, your brother just dropped a glass.”

“Oh. Did you… did you… hurt him?” Her fists clench tighter, her shoulders get tighter, closer to her ears. Billy sees himself in it. He wants to ease her shoulders down out of her ears.

“No! No of course we didn’t.” Steve soothes, rubbing the girls arms soothingly. She looks skeptical.

But it becomes a pattern, and they realize it’s whenever she thinks something is going on or someone is in danger. To the point where if any loud noise happens, one of them rushes outside to look for Jordan climbing out a window.

Steve’s out there this time, grabbing hold of her middle and helping her out of the window because they’ve let their plants grow a little wiley and she was having a hard time getting past them. He sets her down gently.

“It’s fine, hun. You’re fine. Your dad just dropped a pan.”

“Oh…”

“Y’know, you can’t keep doing this.”

“What?”

“Ditching out the window like this.” He kneels down to look at her. “It’s not safe. And one of these days it’s gonna be snowing and you’re gonna jump out in your PJs and be all cold.”

“I’ve done it before.”

And if that doesn’t break Steve’s heart. He thinks about Billy when he was a kid. About the stories Billy has told him when he’s tired and a little drunk and feeling a little emotional. Steve loses himself in the sadness of the thought for a second.

He brushes a little bit of dirt off her shoulder.

“Yeah… well you don’t have to ever again, alright? I mean it. Nothing is happening to you here. We’re not gonna hurt you… Now give me a hug.”

She accepts it, which is big for her, and Steve squeezes her as tight as he squeezed Billy that one night he found him with a cut on his cheek and bruises all up and down his arms.

And then they adopt another boy. A 17 year old boy. A boy who’s been in and out of so many homes he doesn’t have a number for it. A boy who’s angry and jaded and… loves poetry and is so gentle with children and animals.

And him and Billy butt heads… a lot. They’re so similar… at least he’s similar to what Billy used to be. And it pisses them both off bc suddenly Billy knows what Hop felt- frustration. Utter frustration at this boy not understanding his fucking potential.

And i’ve written a whole dialogue for this but it’s long and very dramatic and I might just end up writing a fic about all of these little sweethearts (bc i have so many ideas!!!) but basically the boy telling Billy and Steve that he’s fucked up. He’s fucked up and no one will ever be able to change that and Billy is adamant that he’s not until he admits-

“No. You’re right, you are fucked up.”

Steve is shocked. “Billy!”

“No, shut up Steve.” Billy points at the kid. “You are fucked up. You’re a fucked up kid, and you know what? I’m fucked up too. And so is Steve. And so is your aunt El, and your Aunt Max, and your Uncle Will and Uncle Jonathan. And y’know what else? Your grandpa Jim is fucked up too. Hell, even your Grandma Joyce is fucked up. Wish I could tell you she’s not but ding ding ding! She is!”

And they get in a fight. There’s no fists, no touching, but it’s a major fight of Billy telling this boy what Hop told him once: You’re our kid now and we love you. And you can leave and never think about us again but we’re never gonna forget you.

And: “Don’t you dare fucking compare us to those assholes because I’m not giving up on you. We’re not giving up on you. You’re family now and no matter what you do, I’m gonna be there to worry about you and be happy for you because you deserve it!”

And Billy gets frustrated with all of his yelling so he grabs his stress ball and walks away, breathing heavy, and Steve is there to look the boy in the eye and tell him Billy’s right. And that he understands that the boy has a past before they ever met him “but Billy had a life before he met me… and same with me and him, and we can still love each other. So maybe we’re just on an even playing field. We get to learn about you while you learn about us and… and even so, we can still love each other, right?”

AUGH I’M SOFT. ANYWAY.

Hop and Joyce spoil them fucking rotten. It’s really hard to spoil a 17 year old boy as stubborn as an ox (“You were bad enough, now you bring me another one?” “You saying you didn’t like taking care of me, Pops?” “I’m saying I have enough gray hair as it is.” “Oh shush, Hop!” Joyce hits him) but they do their best. They give him love and support. Joyce bakes a shitton of cookies and cakes and Hop buys the kids toys (and the older boy CDs and records and band tees)(“I’m trying! The older I get, the less I know what kids what.”)

And they love all their aunts and uncles too! The little girl has a hard time reading and she reads way below her level, so Aunt El helps her out!

“I understand. I learned to read really late.”

“Really?” The girl’s heart lifts a bit. “How late?”

“I was twelve.”

“Really??”

El nods and gives a kind smile. “Yeah, but I learned, didn’t I? I had a lot of help, and I can help you, too! Just like your dad helped me.”

The girl smiles brightly.

Will’s favorite is the youngest boy (but he would never tell the other two that. Of course not.) because he’s silly and he took to Will almost instantly and he likes to roll around in the grass and catch bugs and those were never really things Will liked as a kid and he… he likes that. He didn’t think he’d ever like that but there’s something about this kid that brings out adventure in him. He reminds Will of Mike when they first met. A bundle of energy and excitement that always dragged Will around on adventures.

The older one hangs out a lot with Max and Jonathan. Jonathan likes hanging out with the kid cuz he reminds him of Billy when Billy was young. (“I don’t remember you being this… exhausting though.” Jonathan tells Billy.) (“You’re just getting old, bud.” Billy says with a laugh and a clap on the back) They smoke weed whenever they can and Jonathan gives the boy some good old 70’s and 80’s music to listen to and tells the boy “Meatloaf is not the best of our decade, don’t listen to your father. Either of them, honestly. Their music taste is shit.”

Max hangs out with the older one too. She gives him advice about girls and how to talk to them and she picks up a skateboard for the first time in years because of him. They go to the skate park sometimes and everyone there is amazed that a twenty something year old girl is here to skate with them until she skates circles around them. (She becomes the hit of the skate park)

She also wrestles around with the little 8 year old girl sometimes! She has a lot of heart to hearts with the kid, giving her advice as well and telling her silly stories of both Billy and Steve so that the girl learns to trust them more.

And overall they’re a big, loving family!! And they’re slightly dysfunctional too and i just! Can’t see it happening any other way!! Bc they’re a little dysfunctional but they’re dysfunctional with LOVE and isn’t that what matters???? It’s a lot of work and a lot of sweat and a lot of tears but it’s their family and in the end their kids love them to death bc they realize their fathers love them to death and!!! Everyone’s heart is full and happy and i’m crying!

[gumnut-logic]

The Road

Oooh, look I finished it :D

-o-o-o-

Title: The Road

Author: Gumnut

6 Feb 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: “Don’t let him sacrifice everything.”

Word count: 2118

Spoilers & warnings: None, other than weirdness.

Timeline: Season One sometime.

Author’s note: This is really weird. I’m totally not sure about it, totally not sure what it means or where it went. I know nothing, claim nothing, it probably is nothing. I hope you enjoy some of it, maybe, if you’re lucky ::shrugs:: I haven’t a clue.

This is for the first week of FabFiveFeb 2020 - Alan, dirt road. Challenge can be found here.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

The road stretched off into the distance.

Pale gravel limestone, sat as if it had just been graded. It climbed over the green hillsides and vanished off into the distance.

He turned in the opposite direction.

The road continued that way, too, but it vanished into darkness, its stark white swallowed by ancient trees, gnarled and bent, as if scooping the road off its surface and eating it whole.

Alan shivered.

He knew he had to make a decision of which way to go, but he was tired. Ever so tired.

It had been such a long week. Rescue after rescue. On land, on sea, in space. He and his brothers were so worn, it hurt.

It hurt, so much.

A slow blink.

“Alan!”

He startled. “Virgil?”

But there was no one.

Until suddenly there was.

A man was standing on the other side of the road.

It took him a moment to recognise the greying hair, the grey eyes...the flamingo shirt.

“Dad?”

The man didn’t answer. He just smiled a little and stared at Alan.

“Alan! Oh, god, don’t do this to me!”

“Virgil?” But his brother was nowhere to be seen. “What’s going on? Dad?”

A wind whipped up and a dust devil danced along the road in the distance, but other than that, there was silence.

His father smiled gently and held out his hand.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was in hell.

It had been a shit of a week. Too many rescues, too many losses, and he was exhausted. They were all exhausted, and exhausted led to mistakes.

The one saving grace was that Virgil was decked out in his exo-suit when it happened. One, it protected him and he was able to push off the rubble that collapsed on them. Two, when he found Alan crumpled under fallen powerlines, he was able to sever the electricity with one desperate claw.

“Alan!”

He moved...everything. He barely took the time to ensure his own safety before flinging rubble out of his way.

Comms. “Scott! Alan’s been injured. I need you!”

As soon as his way was clear, the exo-suit was shed and he was beside his little brother.

His lifeless little brother.

No breath.

No heartbeat.

God, no.

Please.

His reaction was automatic. Don’t think, just do.

Stabilise, clear airways, breathe for his brother.

Heart. Get his heart beating. Count.

Breathe.

Breathe again.

Please.

Chest compressions.

Please.

No response.

No response.

Breathe again.

C’mon, Allie, God, please.

“Scott, where the hell are you?!”

Heart. Get his heart beating.

Breathe.

No response.

“Alan! Oh, god, don’t do this to me!”

He fell into rhythm. Beat. Breathe.

Beat. Breathe.

Keep him alive. Keep him alive.

God, Allie, please!

-o-o-o-

“Dad?”

The man didn’t answer, but his expression was one of familiarity, fondness. His hand beckoned Alan forward.

Alan frowned and stepped onto the road.

The limestone crunched under the soles of his sandshoes.

Sandshoes?

He was wearing his clothes from home. His uniform was gone and replaced by his favourite guitar t-shirt, its frayed neckline soft against his skin. The cold breeze caught the hairs on his bare legs, teasing them to goosebumps.

Where was his uniform? Was he wearing his uniform?

One step after another and he crossed the road to stand in front of his father. “Dad?”

“ALAN!!”

It was screamed and spoke of so much pain. Virgil. Screaming.

Alan stumbled where he stood, eyes searching for his brother. “Virgil?”

But the wind in his hair was the only answer.

He felt numb, his thoughts slow. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t process why.

A hand reached up and cool fingers gently touched his cheek. It took Alan a moment to realise they weren’t his own.

A frown.

There were tears in his father’s eyes. “Dad?”

The man still didn’t answer, instead both hands cupped Alan’s cheeks. His father lowered his head until their foreheads touched.

A tear fell from his father’s eye and it hit the road in a little puff of powdered limestone.

“Dad, what is going on?” Through the molasses in his mind worry was finally worming its way through. This wasn’t right. This was his father! Where the hell was he?!

But he didn’t get a chance to ask before the world lit up in a rainbow of pain and his whole existence froze in agony.

Time stopped.

Everything stopped.

Limestone dust caught in his mouth and climbed up his nose. A gasp and he sneezed, his whole body spasming with pain, curled up on the gravel.

The world blinked out again and Alan’s back arched in a wordless scream only to fall limp a second later.

“Alan! C’mon!”

Scott. His big brother. He looked up expecting blue eyes but only found grey. The older man was leaning over him, offering a hand again.

Alan took it.

-o-o-o-

It became a mantra for Virgil. Time faded and his everything was to keep his little brother alive.

Muscles ached and burned. His head swam as his breathing was compromised in the attempt to breathe for Alan.

For Alan.

God, please, Alan.

His little brother was still at the gawky stage, still growing into the man he had to be. Had to be. The bones under Virgil’s large hands almost small in comparison.

Count. Compress. Breathe.

Count. Compress. Breathe.

Virgil’s brow crumpled a moment and his pace faltered. No!

“ALAN!!” Goddamn you, please.

Nothing.

Nothing an unarticulated sound broke through his lips and his heart trembled.

No!

Count. Compress. Breathe.

And suddenly Scott was there. His big brother sliding in beside him. Equipment appeared. Gordon appeared. Alan’s slack face disappeared under a breathing mask as Gordon took over.

Paddles. A call to clear.

His little brother’s bruised ribcage jumped.

“Again.”

Scott’s calm assurance and the whine of the defibrillator.

Another sharp shock that shook Virgil almost as much as it did his prone brother.

“Alan! C’mon!”

Virgil checked for a pulse.

Nothing.

No, no, no, no.....

Scott started compressions again.

Terror in his eyes.

-o-o-o-

“Come with me.”

Alan climbed to his feet, his thoughts caught in those grey eyes. His father’s voice was like a long lost memory.

“Where are we going?”

There was no answer. The man turned and pulled him in the direction of the hills and the road that appeared to go on forever.

Something in the forest behind them screamed.

“What’s happening?” Gravel crunched under his step as the road wavered on ahead of him.

“Scott needs you. You have to look after Scott.” And he was suddenly spun around, grey eyes ever so passionate. “Don’t let him sacrifice everything.”

Alan’s eyes widened and he took a step back. “Dad?”

“Please, Allie.”

“Allie, please!” Scott’s tortured echo of his father’s voice bounced across the landscape.

“Go.” Hands shoved him gently down the road. “Go!”

“But-“

“Go!” And those hands shoved, sending him tumbling just as another arc of agony tore across his landscape and took everything away.

-o-o-o-

The beep that woke him was directly out of one of Grandma’s daytime dramas and so predictable he actually let out a laugh.

Followed by a cough and a groan.

“Allie?” It was whispered, but so very Scott.

He blinked and turned his head only to come face to face with a messy tuft of black hair on his bed. Wha-?

Fingers touched his cheek and he shivered. For a split second he hesitated turning his head in the opposite direction, scared of what he might find.

“Allie?”

Familiar, but worried blue eyes greeted him. “Scott?” Augh, dry throat and a chest that throbbed in time to his heartbeat. “What happened?”

A straw touched his lips and he took the barest of sips of blessedly cool water.

“How are you feeling?”

A moment to assess himself. “Like Virgil used me for his gym mat.”

An eyebrow arched and then frowned. “What do you remember?”

A blink. “Call out in Two. Earthquake.” A frown. “Aftershock.” A moment of pure terror and he turned his head back to the black tuft of hair snoring softly beside him. “Is he okay?” His voice came out an octave higher that usual.

“Virgil’s fine. Exhausted, bruised and with a few extra grey hairs he has to dye out, but he isn’t seriously injured.”

“So what happened?” He continued to stare at the hair as it gently moved with Virgil’s breathing.

“You were both caught on the edge of a building collapse. Powerlines came down with it and you were caught by them.”

Alan turned to face his eldest brother again. “Oh.”

His fingers were picked up from the bed sheets and to his horror his brother’s hands holding them were shaking. “You scared us.”

Blink.

His hand was squeezed. Scott bent his forehead down and held Alan’s hand to it, closing his eyes. “Please don’t do that again.”

A swallow. “Not planning on it.”

“Good.” His hand was returned to him as if it had never been taken, his brother’s fingers resting lightly over it. “Rest, Allie.”

Despite the pain, rest was the last thing on Alan’s mind. “Where’s Gordy and John?”

“Grandma and John dragged Gordon out for food. They should be back soon.”

“Kayo?”

“Handling hospital security.”

To be expected. He sighed.

That handed patted his. “Rest.”

“I saw Dad.”

The patting stopped.

“What?”

“I saw Dad. He says I need to look after you.”

Something changed in Scott’s face. Something cold and fear-filled crept into his eyes. “You did?”

“I did.” And then what he was saying caught up with his sluggish brain. “I was dead, wasn’t I?”

Scott swallowed, but didn’t answer.

“I was dead and I saw Dad. Does that mean...?”

His big brother’s large hand curled around his and gripped just that touch harder than necessary. Parched voice. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“But Scott-“

“You didn’t die. It doesn’t mean anything.” That something in his brother’s eyes caused the cardiomonitor to beep out of sequence.

Scott started, blinked and visibly gathered himself, his commander facade smoothly slipping into place. His grip loosened on Alan’s hand, once again becoming gentle and the ever caring brother he knew Scott to be.

Quiet. “It doesn’t mean anything, Allie. You were injured and our brains do weird things at the edge of consciousness, you know that.”

Yeah, he knew that. But ghostly fathers hadn’t been in the medical training.

He turned his brother’s grip on his hand around and clasped it in return. Dragging his other hand with its monitor and IV off the bed covers, he gently draped it over Virgil’s shoulders. The snoring snuffled a moment before smoothing back into its regular pattern again.

Alan felt oddly grateful to feel his brother’s chest moving slowly up and down.

“You need to rest.”

A blink and Alan was caught in those worried blue eyes again.

A sigh. “So do you.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You need to rest, Scott.”

His brother’s lips thinned and Alan suddenly felt like he had offered to take on a raging bull. He’d seen Virgil tackle his determined brother enough times.

Emotional blackmail. “I’ll feel better if you rest.”

Those lips thinned even further.

“Please , Scotty, I’m fine, I promise.”

And to his surprise, his big brother sagged where he sat, his head once again dropping. Alan’s hand was brought to Scott’s forehead and held there with both hands. “Thank, god.”

Alan lay there blinking for a moment, simply staring at his brother.

Virgil snorted in his sleep.

Alan slipped his hand from Scott’s hold and reached around his brother’s neck and gently pulled him down to the bed. Of course, Scott resisted, but Alan persisted and eventually his brother complied.

Now he had two dark heads of hair lying on his bed.

“What are you doing?” Scott sounded a little freaked out.

“What you’ve done for me all my life.” He patted his eldest brother’s shoulder gently. “It’s okay.”

“It’s weird.”

“Yeah? Well, welcome to my world.” Actually, it was rather nice to have his two big brothers together with him.

Virgil snorted again.

Well, mostly with him.

“You need to rest. Grandma’s going to kill me if she thinks I’ve kept you up.”

“I’m fine. I just...”

“What?” And Scott tried to sit up.

“Stay there, Scotty, please. I just want you here.”

His shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay.”

So, he wasn’t exactly willing, but Scott was here. There was more to unpack than his tired brain was able to work out, but Scotty was here and he was safe.

Safe. He had to keep him safe.

The ghost at the back of his mind smiled.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[riverboundao3ff]

Riverbound Chapter 7

You are THE GUARDIAN, which is kind of unfortunate because you’re currently face down and up to your chest in a medicalizer, which has clamped down on your torso so hard you think you’re going to throw up. It’s not like you’re not grateful for the opportunity to heal your broken ribs, but feeling the machine forcefully fuse the bone and muscle back together is not a pleasant experience. Even advanced technology has its setbacks, you suppose.

“If it hurts too much, we can take a break.”

You look up to Mallek, who is sitting beside you like a very anxious guard dog. Somebody put a big plastic bowl underneath you in case you puke, but you guess he wants to be ready to either hold your hair up like a drunk sorority girl at a party or pull you out of the medicalizer.

You manage a wheezy laugh. “Nah, I don’t feel pain. I’m a robot, remember?”

An unhappy whine rises up from the back of Mallek’s throat, kind of like a stressed cat. “These things can suck even for highbloods. Are you sure?”

“Yeah, dude. I just--” Something clicks back into place in your side, and your vision goes fuzzy for a couple seconds. “Augh. Just need to be uncomfortable for a little while longer. I’m not running around Thrashthrust with broken ribs any longer than, than I have to, oh shit.”

Your stomach rolls like a fighter jet and you let loose into the strategically placed bowl beneath you. Hey look, there’s the grubflakes you ate for breakfast.

Mallek grimaces, and you feel a cool hand rubbing circles into your upper back. You turn your attention towards breathing in and out, in and out, just focusing on the physical contact. It’s only a little after midnight but you’re already exhausted. The painkillers Lynera gave you early in the evening have long since worn off.

“What happened to you?” you hear him whisper.

You force your eyes back open. “Daraya already told you? I got thrown into a tree by a goddamn cholerbear. Nasty sonuva bitch.”

“No, I know that! Why did you disappear for like, half a sweep?” he demanded.

His voice cracks about halfway through, and guilt hits you like a sucker punch. You just want to see him smile again. Granted, you’re looking down at the bowl-o’-puke instead of your friend, but you don’t really have the strength to do anything else.

“Long story short, I got kidnapped. Made some new friends to cope. Escaped, made sure my new friends were okay, and then I came back here. I’ll tell you the full version when I’m not on the verge of passing out,” you explain.

“Kidnapped?” Mallek explodes. “The hell you mean, kidnapped?!”

You wince at the noise and reach out to pat his knee. “Sshhhhhhhh. Shhhh. Calm down. It’s fine now. Be calm.”

His face lights up blue. It’s only then you remember telling that shushing a troll is considered lowkey sexy or something. Whoops.

“I would never leave you on purpose, Mallek,” you say, quickly pulling away before it can get weird. “Or… or anybody. Okay?”

“... Okay,” he mumbles.

You smile encouragingly at him. He grabs your hand and squeezes it. It would have been a really sweet moment, except you’re sweaty and shaky and everything stinks like vomit. You can’t imagine how much it must reek to Mallek and his better sense of smell.

The both of you stay like that for a few more minutes, and then the medicalizer goes off with a sharp buzz and releases your torso from its clamps. You immediately inhale as much as you possibly can, groaning with relief when there was no more stabbing pain. There’s still a bit of soreness; a medicalizer can only do so much for bruising, but by all the horrorterrors have you missed breathing like a regular person.

“How’s it feel?” Mallek asks. You can feel the anxiety coming off him in waves.

“So much better.” You’d fall asleep right there and then if he gave you the chance, but you feel him gently grab your hands and pull you out of the medicalizer. A pair of strong arms lift you up, carry you a short distance away, and then set you back down on a sofa.

You accidentally let out a squeak when you feel a chilly finger poke your stitches.

“Sorry.”

“Nah, you’re good. You’re just cold.”

Mallek huffs and touches the scarred-over gash again. “The medicalizer took care of this big wound right here, but the stitches need to come out. I don’t know how, though.”

The fun never ends. “Lanque did ‘em.”

“I’ll go get him. Be right back,” he promises. You hear him jump to his feet and leave the room, the door creaking slightly on his way out. Downstairs, you can hear your friends discussing something, most likely Tyzias and Daraya cooking up a crazy new plan for the rebellion.

You can’t wait to join them and help save the planet. Vriska’s demand that you return in ten nights is a constant reminder of what you came here to do, but it also makes you nervous about the inevitable teleporting you’ll need to do. What if you messed up and ended up somewhere you shouldn’t? Causing a paradox wouldn’t just screw up your mission, it could ruin the fabric of reality. That fear kept you from so much as doing a measly little jump down the mountainside when you left the caverns.  

Having powers was handy, sure, but sometimes it made everything, like, a thousand times more stressful than it actually had to be.

The thumping of footsteps up the stairs gives you the distraction you need to calm down. You crack open an eye in time to see Mallek and Lanque striding in.

“Hey,” you croak.

“Damn, Adalov, did you have it up in the highest setting?” Lanque mutters, turning from you to Mallek with his arms crossed. He doesn’t look very happy with what he sees.

“Medicalizers are made for trolls, not aliens,” Mallek shoots back. “You know they hurt.”

“That thing was old when you let me use it.”

“I’m sorry, did you know any other highbloods with top-notch medicalizers that could do that surgery you wanted? I don’t think so, fucker.”

“Boys, can we save the pitch stuff for later? I want these stitches out so I don’t have to keep laying around like a dead body,” you growl.  

Mallek and Lanque glance back at you, both looking a little sheepish, before Mallek slinks away to sit down at your feet while muttering something about never being pitch for pretentious assholes who can’t even wear their jackets right. Lanque messes around with a few first aid kits on the shelf beside the medicalizer before finding what he’s looking for-- a small scalpel and a pair of tweezers.

“Alright, you know the drill. Off with the sports bra,” he orders.

You groan but obey, pausing with your hand through one of the straps when you notice another pair of wide eyes on you. “Mallek. Turn around, my guy.”

A very interesting squeaky noise escapes Mallek’s chest before he turns around and all but slithers over the armrest he was leaning on. You hear him hit the floor with a thump. Lanque rolls his eyes.

“You two know each other?” you ask as you flip over to lay on your stomach.

“We’ve met a few times, yes,” Lanque confirms, kneeling down to start picking at the stitches with the scalpel. The way he says it makes you suspect there was a lot more to the story than he was letting on. “Have you already told Mallek everything?”

That was Lanque’s way of saying “Let’s change the subject”, so you let it go. “Not… everything. Are you listening, Mallek?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, because I only want to explain this once. Basically, the multiverse is a whole lot more complicated than anybody knows, and there are a lot of… powerful beings out there that like to meddle. Like, with timelines, and universes, and that kind of stuff. Are you following me?”

“I… okay?”

“So basically, this fucker called Doc Scratch is one of these god things, and he was using me to control his timeline… area… whatever. That’s why I was running around Alternia before I left, because I guess I had to help bring certain people together for the timeline to work? I don’t know. Anyways, he kidnaps me when he’s done making me do his business and makes me read this fucked up comic in his own fucked up dimension, which is also on one of your moons. Long story short, the comic’s about some other friends I made and the shit they get into in another timeline. Eventually I manage to escape from Doc Scratch with only moderate trauma. Yay, me. How are we doing so far?”

You can’t see him, which is probably a good thing. “You… the multiverse and the… okay, sure. Why not.”

“I end up on Alternia again, but in the future, and then Earth, which is my home planet. Well, not that exact version of Earth, but whatever. I end up befriending all these kids and try to help them lead better lives than they would originally in this other timeline where they all play a game that destroys the universe. I should also mention that Doc Scratch somehow wiped my memories before I escaped, so until I meet this cool chick called Aradia I… had completely forgotten about you guys.” You swallow back the lump in your throat and try to focus on Lanque pulling out your stitches. It stings.

“The last kid I made friends with was this boy called Dirk. Good kid. So we’re hanging out, and this other version of Dirk rocks up from another universe, and this bastard is a kind of god called an… Ultimate Self, I think. He tries to stop me from rewriting the timeline and then tries to kill me or whatever. I get away from him and manage to…” Crap, how do you explain this part without telling your friends you created an entire universe? “I get him to go home and leave me and the kids alone. He can’t hurt us if he’s in his own universe. After all of that I wanted to come back to see you guys again. So I did.”

Like before, you don’t mention the Director, or the little showdown between you, her, and Ultimate Dirk in Doc Scratch’s mansion. You definitely don’t tell them you’re here to help them win the rebellion. You remind yourself you’re not lying to them, you’re just… not telling them everything. To protect them.

Yeah.

“What worries me is this Scratch character,” Lanque mutters. “You said that Ultimate Self god went back to his own universe, but if Scratch still has influence over our reality…”

“I… have no idea about Scratch,” you say truthfully.

“What is he, exactly?”

You release a long sigh. “Every planet with intelligent life has a thing called a First Guardian to guide it and its people to their destinies. Timelines can have Guardians too, I think? I know that sometimes entire universes have Guardians. They keep time and space in order, basically.”

“... If this universe has a First Guardian, why can’t it go beat Scratch’s ass?” Mallek jokes.

It’s a good question, and you know he’s just trying to lighten the mood, but it still fills you with misery, anger, and a fear so powerful you almost start shaking. If… when you meet Scratch again, what will you do? Would you be able to fight him? Protect your friends from him?

If your friends knew who you really are, would they still care about you?

“That’s something I would love to see, believe me,” you manage to say.

“I’m so sorry that all of that happened to you. It’s so fucked up,” Mallek says hoarsely. “I was so pissed that you were gone. I just spent six perigees of my life thinking one of the best friends I ever had was dead and I didn’t even stop to consider that they might be having it even worse.”

“It’s not your fault. Grief makes people do and feel weird shit,” you assure him. You’re trying not to cry yourself, because you’re half-naked with a super hot guy pulling out your stitches and another hot guy hiding behind the sofa. Your life is a lot of things but boring is not one of them.

Your pain tolerance must be through the roof by now, because you don’t even feel it when Lanque pulls out the last couple threads. “All done.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Thanks, Lanque.”

He pats your back. “Come join us downstairs when you’re ready. Tyzias has something I think you’d be interested in.”

Your tiredness instantly fades away. “Oh?”

“You can’t be serious, Bombyx. They’re still recovering,” Mallek protests.

“Then get off your privileged highblood ass and come with us,” Lanque calls over his shoulder as he saunters out the door.  

Mallek yelps and dives back behind the sofa when you hop up to get dressed. Your shirt was slung over the desk chair, which you gladly yank back on over your bra as you start to shiver. Mallek’s place was always pretty chilly since he ran cold, so you’d always have to bundle up a bit when you came over to hang.

“Alright, I’m decent. My pasty white ass won’t blind you anymore,” you tell him.

“You’re more of a really pale… pinkish tawny?” he notes, tossing you your hoodie.

You decide you’d explain the different ethnic and racial categories humans have to him later. “Yeah, sure. Thanks for letting me use the medicalizer.”

“Duh. I don’t let my friends run around with broken ribs,” Mallek snorts. “Yours sure break a lot, though. Maybe I should just stick you back in there from time to time, just in case.”

You pretend to chuck the puke bowl at him and cackle when he instinctively dodges. Once upon a time, you might have told him that human vomit is acidic. Granted, it definitely is; you can feel your throat and tongue burning like a bitch, but you never specified that it wasn’t deadly or anything.

“Just put it in the load gaper!” he begs, and you laugh as you follow him down to the bathroom. You forgot how much fun it was to fuck around with him. Maybe you’d introduce him to Kuprum and Folykl, you just know that the three of them in one room would be the best thing that ever happened. That, or they’d all kill each other. Those kinds of things could be a little difficult to predict with trolls.

The puke bowl gets cleaned with water, soap, and a lot of vigorous scrubbing. Your hands get the same treatment. Once you gulp down some water and splash your face in the sink, you turn, only to realize Mallek is staring at you again. His eyes are much more blue than when you last saw him. He’s an inch or two taller as well.

“... Yeah?” you ask. Did you have vomit on your face? Fuck.

All at once, Mallek wraps you up in a hug that leaves you breathless. You hug him back instinctively, and then really go all in when you feel him shaking ever so slightly against you. He smells like chips and something vaguely smoky.

Neither of you say anything for a while. There’s something incredibly fragile in the air, and it warms you from the inside out and fills you with worry.

“I missed you,” he mumbles into your hair.

“I missed you too. So much.”

“... You don’t have to join in on whatever crazy shit they’re cooking up down there.” He chuckles nervously. “Really. You can just… I dunno. Stay with me, if you want?”

You bump your head against his chest and gently squeeze his arms. “Mallek. The world is going to change, and I want to be a part of it. Don’t you?”

“I don’t want you to die.”

You reach up to gently cup his cheek. “I’ve died before. It’s not so bad, really.”

Mallek leans into the contact, looking at everything but at you. You let yourself be held by him for a little while longer before pulling away. He doesn’t say anything else, but he does follow you down the stairs to the rest of the group.

You grin at Tyzias when she looks up at you, hopeful. “So whose lives are we gonna ruin tonight?”

[starswornoaths]

Prompt 21: Crunch

Just more filling in the blanks. Friendship between Haurchefant and Serella, with some mention of what she was doing in her spare time in Ishgard for 3.0, and how she wandered into the Machinist’s Guild.

Word Count: 1,550

Rare was it that Haurchefant found himself back within Ishgard proper—and rarer still that he found himself at the Last Vigil.

Coming to the Fortemps Manor almost never happened.

And yet, here he was, stepping into his father’s home—his father’s, his brothers’, never his—and speaking with the Lord of the House.

His father seemed to divine that the pleasantries that they exchanged were merely a precursor, an excuse to check in on the wards of the House—while their conversation was warmer than it had been in some time it was still brief, with Count Edmont directing him to where their wards had been resting. Though they parted a touch awkwardly, there was a mirthful twinkle in the Count’s eye as they parted—something Haurchefant had not seen in his father since he was a boy.

Truly, a fuller house suited the old man, he thought with a warmth in his chest and a spring in his step as he checked in on his most recently acquired friends.

Two of them, at least, he realized when he only saw Alphinaud and Tataru in the library. He happily chatted with them a while, asked how they had been faring given the circumstances. He asked after Serella and Uthengentle, but neither of the Scions had been around the Manor for the better part of the day, so they had told him. He didn’t wish to take up much more of their time, as it was clear their thoughts were elsewhere, and so he did not linger—better to not be here, anyhow.

The air had barely had a chance to hit his face and the snow adequately crunch beneath his boots when his sharp hearing picked up a voice—toward the bannister overlooking Foundation.

“All stations, all stations…”

He paused at the bottom step leading out of the Manor and turned toward the voice—with a start, he found Serella standing alone with her back to him. Had he not heard her first, he would have likely missed her entirely—she was so still out at the bannister that he almost mistook her for a newly installed statue.

He moved closer, intent on greeting her in that same jovial manner he always did when he picked up the rest of what she was saying, and his steps slowed.

“All stations, all stations,” Serella spoke. “This is Serella Arcbane of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn…are there any other Scions out there getting this?” As he neared, he heard the emptiness in the radio static she received as a response. “Can anyone hear me?”

Only the white noise of the lonely radio waves answered her.

She let out a curse, and he heard her fiddling with something—likely changing the station or trying to clear the signal a bit—and he decided that now was likely a good time to step in, before she grew lost to her frustrations.

“Is there aught I can assist with, my friend?” Haurchefant asked in an almost too bright voice.

Serella turned to face him, looking a mite like she had debated lopping the head off the next person to approach her only a second beforehand. Unphased, he took a spot beside her, leaning against the railing. From there, he could see the device in her hands—sure enough, a radio. Beside her sat what he recognized as a signal amplifier—he knew them from the ones his troops had when they deployed on patrols that took them particularly far from Camp Dragonhead.

“Ah, Chefant.” Serella’s tired voice warmed when she realized it was him. Her posture softened, as if her entire being sighed in relief that it was him. He faintly wondered how many in the city had already accosted her for aid—or something more politically insidious, as was the city’s wont. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you coming—“

“Think nothing of it, my friend!” He said, his tone more conversational but no less bright.

He felt pleasantly warm at hearing the nickname—Alphinaud had told him she had a tendency to give nicknames to people she trusted and considered friends, and to be considered such felt like the highest of praise.

“No, no, I shouldn’t—“ She cut herself off, pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “I shouldn’t just be…ready to pop off at the mouth with everyone, especially not you.”

“You are human, above all else, Serella.” Haurchefant said softly, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I will never begrudge you for that.”

“I know.” She said, giving him a tired but genuine smile. “That doesn’t mean I want to just go off at every frustration.”

“What has you frustrated?” He asked, removing his hand from her shoulder and crossing his arms. “Perhaps I could be of assistance?”

“Perhaps,” Serella said, holding up the radio. “Know anything about how to get an amplifier to clear up the static?” She frowned in thought. “At this point, I don’t know if the static is because no one can hear me, or if there just…isn’t anyone there at all.”

Her expression told him she knew which was more likely.

“I confess, I owe you my sincerest apologies,” Haurchefant answered her after a moment. “For I have no expertise in such a field.”

“You don’t owe me an apology, Chefant.” Serella reassured him, though her smile did not reach her eyes. “That you offered is enough—“

“Do not lose hope, Serella!” He suddenly burst with enthusiasm as a though occurred to him—perhaps a bit too much, some might say, and some might be wrong, as far as he was concerned. “For I know of someone who might be just your man!”

“Oh?”

“Ser Stephanivien!” He said, holding up a finger. “Head of the Skysteel Manufactory—if anyone might be able to assist in clearing out that signal, I daresay he might!”

“That’s,” Serella’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought of that, actually.” She paused for a moment, and nodded as if to herself. “Yeah, that might actually be good—I’ve been meaning to speak with them anyhow.”

“Interested in Machinistry, are you?” Haurchefant asked.

“After a fashion.”

“Well,” He waggled his eyebrows. “I have quite the contraption you could take a look at in—“

“Your bedroom?” Serella guessed, already grinning.

“Well!” The Fortemps Knight gave a mock harrumph. “How forward of you, Warrior of Light—but if you are interested, I certainly shan’t—“

“No thank you.” Serella said flatly, even as she beamed at him.

“Augh!” Haurchefant gasped, clutching at his chest and throwing his other arm over his eyes dramatically. “You have wounded me most mortally, madam!”

“A pity.” Serella said, fighting to keep a straight face and laying her free hand over her heart solemnly. “I shall be sure to let everyone know you died as you lived, Chefant.”

“Gloriously?” He ventured, peeking through the splayed fingers still draped over his eyes.

“Like an overeager fool.” She threw her head back and laughed.

“Truly, your japes cut me to my very heart, Serella.” He sighed and straightened himself. “One of these days, I daresay you will be the death of me.”

“Perhaps, perhaps.” She looked a touch pensive, and that just would not do, he decided, draping an arm around her shoulders in a friendly hug.

“Pray smile, Serella.” He said softly. “It better suits a hero.”

“Hard to.” She admitted, leaning against him slightly. “Just…looking out at all of this,” she gestured out into the foggy abyss, where the rest of the city lay beneath the dense mists, out of their sight—just like the nobility prefers. “And hearing nothing from any of them…” her shoulders slumped. “Feels like I’m isolated.”

“Ice-olated?” Haurchefant grinned.

“Well,” she couldn’t fight a smile as she looked up at him. “I did receive a cold reception.”

“How true!” Haurchefant threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Even still,” he let out a soft sigh and squeezed her shoulder. “I fear that very icy reception is precisely why I do not tarry here overly long.” He stepped away from her. “I am bound for Camp Dragonhead. Might you be joining, or shall I be ushering you inside the House, free from the cold?”

Sparing a glance at one of the many chronometers that dotted the Pillars, Serella blanched. 

“You mean to fight the snow this late? Surely you can stay in your own house?” She guessed.

“Ah—!” He failed to hide his wince fast enough. Clearing his throat, he hoped his reputation for silly babbling would work in his favor once more. “I fear House Fortemps is simply too grandiose for my tastes— yes, much too much red, if you ask me, and hardly adequate numbers of unicorns about—”

“Let’s head to Camp Dragonhead, then.” Serella said gently, already bundling her cloak about her. “The sooner, the better.”

“You need not come with me—” He tried to reassure her.

“Oh, I know. It’s a choice, brother mine. So, shall we?” She asked with an incline of her head. “I would ask you to lead. I’m still...getting used to the city’s layout.”

“Woefully lost without me, you mean?” Haurchafant’s spirits lifted instantly, and they fell into step once more. 

“Naturally, my friend!” Serella agreed with a laugh.

The crunch of snow beneath his boots felt far less lonely with a second pair joining in, and their laughter echoing in the cold.

[bisexual-bookman]

A Vixen Named Allen Walker

Pairing: Allen/Tyki

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4,696

Tags: light bondage, light dom/sub, dom!Allen, sub!Tyki, tyki has a daddy kink

Part of the Let Allen Walker Wear Pretty Things series on AO3.

[Read on AO3]

Tyki flipped through the TV channels, looking for something vaguely interesting. For the first time in a very long time, he and Allen had a day off together. With Tyki working nights at his bartending job, and Allen during the day at the cafe down the street, they hardly saw each other.

And right now, Tyki was very eager to see Allen.

He had gotten a text from Allen a few days prior, saying nothing more than 'I have a surprise waiting for you,' and Tyki had been waiting in anticipation ever since, racking his brain to try to figure out what it could be.

The muted sound of heels on carpet drew Tyki out of his thoughts as he turned his attention towards the noise.

“Ah, stop! Don't look.” Allen said. Tyki jerked his head to a stop, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“Does this have anything to do with my surprise?” Tyki asked. 

“Yes, it does. Now close your eyes. I don't want you to ruin this just because you're impatient.” Allen huffed. Tyki snorted, relenting and closed his eyes.

“I am not impatient, thank you very much,” Tyki said defensively. Now it was Allen's turn to snort, the sound coming from beside Tyki.

“Says the one who always burns himself because he doesn't want to wait for the cookies to cool.” Allen hummed. Tyki could feel Allen's presence in front of him, the slight body heat coming from Allen confirming it. Tyki made a pleased noise as he felt Allen's knee press up against his crotch, his hands on either side of Tyki's head.

“Okay, I'm going to let that one go in favour of opening my eyes.” Tyki stated. He heard Allen giggle, the sound going straight to Tyki's dick. He knew that noise. That noise meant for a teasing Allen, and a very, very nice night. 

Tyki felt Allen's breath on his neck as Allen leaned in, his lips just brushing Tyki's jaw.

 “Go ahead. Open them.” Allen whispered, his tone making Tyki's palms sweat and a heat start to coil in his stomach.

Grinning in anticipation Tyki opened his eyes, only to nearly choke when his eyes focused on Allen.

“What do you think?” Allen purred, sliding his fingers down Tyki's throat, playing with the undone buttons of his shirt. His fingers brushed against Tyki's adam's apple as he leaned forward, his knee pushing more firmly against Tyki's crotch.

Tyki inhaled deeply, his hand coming to rest on Allen's thigh, his eyes trailing up and down his body. He grinned at the sight of Allen clad in black lacy lingerie standing in front of him. A strapless bustier adorned his chest, his pale legs covered with dark stockings that attached to a leather garter belt, which sat delicately on Allen’s slim waist.

Tyki could feel his body start to heat up as he looked down, the outline of Allen’s cock visible through the thin material of the underwear he was wearing.

Allen's hand slid up to cup Tyki's cheek, his thumb gently running over Tyki’s bottom lip. Still grinning, Tyki let an appreciative hum rumble out of his throat. The sound caused Allen to smile, his teeth biting his bottom lip as he looked down at Tyki through his lashes.

Tyki trailed his hand up Allen's thigh, only stopping to play with the metal ring in the garter belt straps, his fingertips brushing against the bow attached there. 

Tyki licked his lips, his tongue catching on the tip on Allen's finger. 

“Well, Boy, I have to say this was well worth the wait.” Tyki mused, eyes never ceasing as they roamed over Allen's body. He slid his hand around to Allen's ass, squeezing the flesh. Allen inhaled sharply at the action. Tyki grinned, pulling Allen down so that he was straddling Tyki's lap. 

Allen leaned forward, brushing his lips against Tyki's in a feather-light kiss before standing up from Tyki's lap. At Tyki's disappointed groan, Allen just laughed, spinning around to give Tyki a full view of his bare ass. Tyki watched Allen as he walked away, pausing in the middle of their living room to look over his shoulder.

“I know how much you love watching me play, Love,” Allen said, a sultry tone entering his voice as he said the nickname, “but I was really hoping you'd join me this time.”

Tyki immediately shot up, crossing the small space in a few steps. When he was right in front of Allen, Tyki placed his hands on his waist, running his fingers over Allen’s smooth skin.

Allen bit his lip, looking up at Tyki through his eyelashes as he slid his hands up Tyki's chest, stopping at his shirt’s collar to play with the buttons there. Stepping closer to Tyki, Allen pressed his body flush against Tyki’s, trailing his lips softly along Tyki's jaw. At Tyki's heavy sigh, Allen smirked, unbuttoning the top button. Tyki's hands slid off Allen’s hips, each grabbing a handful of Allen's ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

Allen sighed; the sound heavy with disappointment as he reached around to push Tyki’s hands off. Lightly slapping Tyki’s cheek, Allen tapped his finger against Tyki’s lips in time with his next words.

"Ah, ah, ah, Love," Allen tutted, sliding his hands into Tyki's curly hair. He brought Tyki's head down lower, his lips just brushing Tyki's lips as he spoke.

"Who said that you could touch me?" He purred against Tyki's lips, giving a light pull to the hair in his grip. Tyki growled deep in his chest. Allen could feel Tyki’s heartbeat speed up against his chest at the whispered words. 

"C'mon Boy, don't tease me like that." 

Allen laughed, pulling back slightly.

"Tyki, please! You know you like it." He said smugly. He knew how right he was at the sight of the other man’s golden eyes. They were heavy with lust, gaze piercing as it stayed on Allen. Tyki watched him as though a spell had been cast on him, his entire being captivated by every little elegant move Allen made.

"Really now? Do I? ‘Cause I think I like it more when you're underneath me, writhing, moaning for me to thrust into you deeper and harder, your voice hoarse from all your screaming." Tyki said, grin almost cruel at the mention of the rough sex the both of them enjoyed.

Allen smiled, all sweetness and sunshine. The skin around his eyes crinkled from the force of the smile, and his white teeth gleamed. Tyki’s grin faltered slightly.

That was the same smile Allen made during poker; all feigned innocence as he laid down a winning hand that was conjured up by his quick, cheating hands.  

Allen slid his hands back down to Tyki's collar, grabbing fistfuls of the pristine white fabric.

"Oh, you do, Love," Allen said, walking backwards towards their bedroom, dragging Tyki by the collar with him, "and I can show you just how much you do."

Tyki stumbled along after Allen, trying to keep up with Allen's confident strides. Once they reached their bedroom, Allen turned them around, smirking at Tyki before shoving him slightly. The back of Tyki's knees hit the edge of the bed and he crumpled, falling backwards on to the bed. He bounced slightly from the impact, able to feel the bed dip on either side of him as he looked up to see Allen crawling over him before he settled himself on Tyki's lap.

Allen ran his hands down Tyki's chest, stopping at his beltline. His fingers slowly traced the metal buckle. Tyki placed his hands-on Allen's thighs, squeezing them. Allen reached down and pinched Tyki's hands, which twitched in response, but Tyki didn't pull them away. 

"What did I say?" Allen asked, staring down at Tyki.

"That you'd show me just how much I like it when you tease me?" Tyki said, his tone confidant as he stared up at Allen. Allen snorted.

“I don't think so. Now, tell me what I said. You know what happens when I have to repeat myself.” Allen threatened, giving Tyki's hands a particularly hard pinch. Tyki grunted, pulling his hands back and lying them beside him on the bed.

“You said not to touch you,” Tyki said, eyes hungrily roaming where his hands couldn't.

"Very good!” Allen said, leaning forward to give Tyki a kiss that was eagerly reciprocated.

“I'll tell you when you can touch me.” Allen said when he drew back. His breath fanned Tyki’s face as he continued to speak. “Then, and only then, will you be able to touch me."

Tyki raised an eyebrow, a defiant look in his eye. 

"Oh yeah?” Tyki said, sliding his hands up Allen's back. “What happens if I don't listen? After all, you should know how bad I am at listening to things I don't particularly care about.”

Allen laughed, all sweetness and honey, before he grabbed Tyki's hands and twisted them. 

"Augh!" Tyki shouted, more in surprise than pain.

Allen leaned forward, pinning Tyki's hands above his head. His face was inches from Tyki's, his breath ghosting over Tyki's face as he looked at him through half-lidded eyes. 

"You touch me without my permission, and you'll get punished." Allen whispered.

Tyki swallowed as Allen leaned back, letting go of Tyki’s hands in favour of slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Tyki left his arms laying above him as Allen spread the now unbuttoned shirt and begun running his hands over the tanned skin. Tyki breathed in sharply as Allen dragged his nails across Tyki's stomach, the slight scratches sending shivers down Tyki's spine. Leaning in, Allen placed hot, open-mouth kisses to Tyki's collar bone, his tongue snaking out to taste the flesh below him, his lips slowly dragging downward. 

Allen stopped at Tyki's nipples, a quick lick sending shots of pleasure straight to Tyki's groin. Allen worked them one at a time, gently sucking and nipping at them before continuing on. Tyki groaned at Allen’s ministrations, his groans turning into low moans as Allen got lower and lower, his tongue tracing random patterns on Tyki's abdomen.

Allen stopped when he reached Tyki's pant line, slowly dragging his finger across the length of it. Tyki groaned in disappointment at the lack of Allen's skilled tongue. Breathing in deeply, Tyki leaned back on his elbows, looking down at Allen. 

"Why'd you stop, Boy?" 

Allen giggled, trailing his finger down to lightly trace the bulge that was showing through Tyki's pants. Tyki shuttered at the feather-light touch. Allen leaned his head down, his lips just brushing Tyki's pants as he spoke.

"I've hardly even done anything and you're already this hard?" 

"Well it hasn't been easy with all your teasing," Tyki huffed, “speaking of which, why don't we just gloss over it and get started.” Tyki grinned, placing a hand on Allen's arm. Allen smiled, pressing down hard on Tyki's dick. Tyki's head fell back and a strangled cry left his throat. 

"You really don't listen do you, Daddy?" 

Tyki moaned, laying back down on the bed with a thump. 

“Don't Boy, I don't think I'll be able to handle that." 

Allen chuckled lightly, hands settling on Tyki's belt and finally beginning to undo it. He pulled off Tyki’s pants, hooking his underwear as he went. Tyki sighed as the constricting material was thrown over the side of the bed, landing in a heap on the floor. Allen trailed his hands up the inside of Tyki's thighs, fingers playing with the sensitive flesh around his groin before slowly trailing his finger up the length of Tyki's half-hard cock. 

Tyki groaned low in his throat as Allen started to slowly pump him, his thumb swiping at a bead of pre-cum that had gathered at the tip of Tyki's dick. Allen leaned down and placed a soft kiss underneath Tyki's navel, loving the way Tyki's body jolted from the contact.

Allen trailed kisses across Tyki's thighs, tongue coming out to sweep against his flesh, his teeth leaving little nips as he went. As Allen stopped at the base of Tyki's cock, his tongue replaced his hand and he slowly licked a line up Tyki's cock, swirling his tongue around the tip before taking Tyki's length into his mouth. 

Tyki moaned at the feeling of Allen's mouth encircling his cock, his hands bunching up in the bed sheets at his side when he felt himself hit the back of Allen's throat. Allen sat there for a couple seconds, massaging the sensitive flesh in his mouth with his tongue. Tyki groaned, thrusting his hips up slightly into Allen's mouth. He could feel Allen's lips pull up in a smirk, his hands coming up to caress the skin of Tyki's thigh, but still not moving his head.

“Boy,” Tyki said breathlessly, his chest heaving from his pants, “move, will you?” He punctuated his words with a wiggle of his hips.

Allen gripped Tyki's hips with a bruising hold, pinning him to the bed before he started bobbing his head, his lips and tongue moving against Tyki's dick. Tyki let out a moan at the feeling.

He could hear the sounds Allen was making, the little moans leaving the smaller man making it that much sweeter. He lifted a hand and threaded his fingers through Allen's hair, groaning in disappointment when Allen lifted off him at the contact. His groan was cut short, turning into a sharp cry as Allen's teeth dug into his thigh, deep enough to leave marks. Tyki looked down to see Allen crawling over him, coming up to meet Tyki's gaze. 

"You really don't listen, do you?" 

A shiver ran down Tyki's spine at the sugar sweet tone of Allen's voice. 

"Now, Daddy. What did I say I was going to do, if you touched me without my okay?" Allen said, pressing his knee into Tyki's hard cock. A shiver shook Tyki's entire body, but he clamped his jaw shut, not uttering a word. Allen tutted in disappointment. He dug his knee in harder, his hand coming up to grip Tyki's long hair. Turning Tyki’s face to the side, Allen could see Tyki’s neck muscles strain as he pressed his face into the bed. Tyki's back arched, his breath coming out in a rush.

“Punishment!” Tyki finally relented, “You said-”

Allen cut Tyki off, leaning forward and putting more weight on Tyki’s dick. A strangled groan left Tyki as he wiggled, trying to free himself of the pressure. Allen placed his hands on Tyki’s chest, pinning him to the bed. He watched in amusement as Tyki struggled to talk.

“If I touched you, punishment,” Tyki managed to say. 

“That's right, Daddy. And what did you do?” 

“I touched you.” Tyki ground out through clenched teeth.

“That's right.” Allen purred, getting off of Tyki.

Tyki took in a deep breath as he watched Allen crawl off the bed. Allen leaned down, the sound of rustling cloth meeting Tyki's ears. When Allen stood back up, he had Tyki's leather belt in his hands as he smiled down at Tyki.

"Now then, let's fix this nasty habit you have, shall we?" Allen said, snapping the belt in his hands. The sharp sound echoed in the room, Tyki's dick twitching at the noise. Allen crawled back on to the bed, taking up a kneeling position beside Tyki's head. Grabbing both of Tyki's arms Allen tied them to the headboard with the belt. 

"Don't do that, I promise I won't touch you again..." Tyki said, leaning his head back to watch Allen dutifully do his task.

Allen just giggled, giving the restraints a pull. Satisfied that they were tight, but not hurting, he crawled back on top of Tyki. Leaning down Allen gave him a kiss, Tyki eagerly accepting the passionate kiss, both of them moaning at the feel of their tongues sliding against each other. 

Allen soon pulled back, his hands resting on Tyki's chest for balance as he leaned back, grinding down on Tyki. Tyki gasped at the sudden contact, squirming a bit under Allen. 

"Stop teasing me, just get on with it." Tyki huffed.

"Tsk, tsk Daddy. You know that's not how things happen around here. What do you say?" Allen said slyly. 

"I'm not saying it, Boy." 

Allen started grinding down on Tyki, feeling the hotness of Tyki's hard cock against his ass. Tyki moaned, hips jutting up to meet Allen, wishing he could relieve some of the ache in his groin.

"You know that's not what I want to hear." Allen said, his voice taking on a breathy tone, knowing it would drive Tyki mad.

“I'm not saying it." Tyki said, struggling to think coherently. Allen placed his hands on Tyki's thighs, grinding down even harder, moving his hips in a way that he knew would make Tyki beg. Tyki let out a choked groan, his hands curled in their restraints.

"Say it, Daddy~” Allen said, his voice coming out in breathy moans. He rocked forward, pressing his covered erection into Tyki's stomach. 

"Fuck me!" Tyki shouted, finally giving in. "God! Please!" 

Allen smiled, Tyki's breath shuddering at the cat-like smirk on Allen's face. 

“There we go, was that so hard?" Allen said sweetly. Tyki just sat there, chest heaving.

Tyki felt Allen get off of him, walking around the side of the bed where Tyki could see him better.

"Look over here Daddy, I'm sure you'll want to see this." 

Tyki's breath stopped at the word choice, craning his neck to the side to look at Allen.

Allen stood there, face flushed a rosy red, a bulge showing through his underwear. His hands were resting on the back of his neck, but when he saw that Tyki was looking at him, he began to slowly drag them down his chest. He skimmed them down his sides, grinning at the way Tyki's lust-filled eyes followed their path.

Allen trailed his hands lower, brushing over his cock in a feather-light touch. A soft moan left him, his body shivering at the contact. He bit his lip, hiding a smirk when he watched Tyki's body jerk in response. Allen's hands continued their slow journey as they trailed down his thighs, caressing his inner thighs and playing with the straps of the garter belt as he went along. 

Finally stopping at the hooks that held his stockings in place, he unhooked them, the straps springing back into place from the lack of tension. Sliding his hands back up his thighs, Allen stopped when he reached his waistband, the tips of his fingers dipping inside.

He paused, watching Tyki's adam's apple bob as he swallowed in anticipation, his eyes glued to Allen's every movement. Allen grinned, drawing it out for a few more seconds before he slowly started to pull them down. Allen watched Tyki's body tremble in want, his breathing turning erratic as the underwear finally freed Allen's erection. 

Letting the underwear slide down his pale legs to the floor, Allen gracefully stepped out of them. He watched as Tyki's eyes followed the sway of his hips. He leaned over Tyki, trailing his fingers through the spots of pre-cum that had gathered on Tyki's stomach.

"Well Daddy, since you were so nice during my show, I'll be nice and finally get started."

Tyki's breath left him in a gust, swallowing heavily as he watched Allen reach for the bottle of lube on the bedside table. Getting back on to the bed, Allen straddled Tyki's thighs, popping open the bottle of lube and squirting some on to his hand. He wrapped his hand around Tyki's cock, giving it a couple quick pumps, watching Tyki's eyes flutter closed at the pleasure.

Once satisfied, Allen placed the bottle back onto the table and wiped his hand off on a small towel that was placed there.

"Wait, Boy,” Tyki gasped out, “aren't you going to prepare yourself?"  

Allen smiled, spreading his fingers through the trail of hair on Tyki's chest.

"Oh, I did that while I was getting changed." 

"Fuck, that's all I need to hear tonight." Tyki groaned. 

"Oh please, I know how much it turns you on when I say things like that. Plus, I know how much you like it when I prepare myself." Allen purred. 

"But I didn't get to see it." 

Allen gave Tyki's chest a soft scratch. "Next time, Daddy," he said with a wink, Tyki grinning at the promise. 

Allen positioned himself above Tyki's cock, lining himself up before slowly sinking down on top of him. Allen's groan at the intrusion was drowned out by Tyki's loud moan, finally getting the contact he wanted. Allen shivered from the full feeling of Tyki inside him as Tyki lay there gasping for air, trying to not thrust into Allen before he was ready.

Tyki looked up at Allen and nearly came at the sight of Allen above him.

Allen's eyes were tightly squeezed shut, his head tipped back slightly and his mouth was agape. His pink lips were swollen and glistening, his tongue darting out to wet them. His messed hair hung in front of his eyes and his cheeks were flushed a delicious pink, the blush trailing down his neck and chest.

Tyki's tongue swept over his lips, aching to taste the blush that crawled over Allen's usually pale skin.

When Allen was finally accustomed to the feeling of Tyki inside of him, he met Tyki's gaze, smiling as he smoothed his hands over Tyki's chest. He twitched his hips, but didn't move otherwise. 

"No, Boy, don't do this to me!" Tyki cried out, thumping his head on the bed. 

"You know what to say~," Allen said in a singsong voice. Tyki groaned in frustration, shallowly thrusting his hips. Allen gave a quiet grunt at the action, but still didn't move.

"Please, move, just - augh, please!" Tyki pleaded.

Allen hummed in satisfaction, before bringing his hips up then slamming them back down. Allen moaned, starting to thrust at a relatively slow pace. Tyki groaned at the movement and soon fell into a steady rhythm with Allen. 

"Move, faster, please." Tyki begged. Allen sighed in pleasure, picking up the pace, slamming down harder on to Tyki. 

Tyki moaned, thrusting hard up into Allen as he slammed down, revealing in the gasps and moans that the action dragged from Allen's full lips. The room was soon filled with the sounds of their ragged breaths and moans as their pace picked up. Tyki planted his feet on the bed to thrust into Allen harder, reaching deeper. Allen whined at the nearly painful thrusts, angling his hips so that Tyki would hit his sweet spot. 

Allen shouted as Tyki found it, his thighs quivering as he lifted himself up. He could feel himself nearing completion with the hard thrusts hitting his prostate head on. Bringing a hand down to his aching cock, Allen started to pump himself in time with Tyki's thrusts, moaning loudly at the attention on his previously ignored cock.

At the sight in front of him, Tyki pulled at his restrains, wanting so badly to throw Allen back onto the bed and fuck him until he couldn't walk. 

The thought quickly fled from his mind; his brain stuttering to a stop when Allen angled his hips just right.

"Oh, God, Allen," Tyki said, moaning Allen's name, his head falling back against the bed. Allen leaned down and placed a kiss to the centre of Tyki's chest, trailing his mouth over the expanse of bare skin. Allen took his hand off his cock, uncaring about the pre-cum slicking up his hand as he smoothed it over Tyki's chest, scratching and pinching at the skin. 

Allen trailed his lips up to Tyki's collarbone, Tyki's thrusts starting to lose their rhythm. That paired with his quivering body and Allen knew Tyki wouldn't last much longer. 

"Cum for me Daddy. Fill me up." Allen said, his voice husky, punctuating his words with a deep bite to Tyki's collarbone.

That was all it took for Tyki, and with a final thrust into Allen, Tyki's back arched up into those tantalizing lips and he finally came with Allen's name on his lips. 

As Tyki was coming down from his orgasm, he could feel Allen's legs tighten against his waist, his hands clawing against Tyki's chest. It wasn't long before Allen followed suit, throwing his head back and loudly moaning Tyki's name.

Allen laid down on top of Tyki, both of them gasping, trying to catch their breath. After a few moments Allen pulled himself off Tyki, groaning lightly at the loss. He leaned in to give Tyki a slow kiss before getting off and crawling up the bed to undo the restraints. With his hands free, Tyki flexed them slightly, trying to get rid of the stiffness. Once satisfied he folded them under his head, watching as Allen threw the belt on the ground with a loud noise, joining the other discarded clothes on the floor. 

"Hey, Boy?" Tyki questioned, watching Allen as he began to remove his bustier.

"Hmm?" Allen hummed as he finished with the bustier, throwing it over the edge of the bed to join the other clothes. 

"Can I touch you now?" 

Allen burst out laughing, reaching out for Tyki.

“Of course, Love! C'mere,” Allen said, pulling Tyki to him.

"Finally!” Tyki said, tackling Allen to the bed. Allen laughed, wrapping his arms around Tyki's shoulders as Tyki peppered kisses along his neck. Allen giggled at the ticklish feeling, running his hands over Tyki's broad back as Tyki kissed along Allen's jaw before placing short, sweet kisses on his lips. Tyki's hands roamed over Allen's body, simply wanting to touch the other man. Allen sighed at the attention, nuzzling his face into Tyki's mane of dark curls. 

"Here, Boy, let me help you remove those." Tyki said, leaning back so he was sitting on his knees. His hands were at Allen's waist, resting on the garter belt that Allen still wore. Allen giggled, lifting his hips and arching his back so Tyki could reach the clasp at the back. 

After undoing it and throwing it on the floor as well, Tyki's hands trailed down to Allen's thigh-highs, hooking his fingers under the hem and pulling them down as well. Allen lifted his leg, helping Tyki to remove them, watching as they were thrown to the side, joining the other clothes. Tyki laid back down on top of Allen, propping his elbows on either side of Allen's head.

Tyki ran his hands through Allen's hair, his hands playing with the soft strands as he gave Allen slow, sweet kisses. Allen's arms encircled Tyki, drawing aimless designs on the other’s back. They both sighed contently, basking in the presence of each other.

"You really do like to touch me, don't you?" Allen asked in between kisses, Tyki soon trailing them down Allen's neck and shoulder, as well as giving him the occasional nuzzle. 

"You know I do Boy, that's why I hate it when you say I can't." Tyki said into Allen's smooth skin. 

"No, you don't," Allen said, burying his nose in to Tyki's hair, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex.

"...Okay, maybe I don't." 

Allen laughed at that, Tyki soon joining in.

Allen brought his hands up and held Tyki's face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs across Tyki's cheeks. 

"Well how about this, next time, you can touch me as much as you like, no matter what I say." Allen said, pecking Tyki on the lips. Tyki smiled at that. 

"Oh, I am definitely going to take you up on your offer," Tyki said, leaning down to kiss Allen.

“Good. Now though, it's time to get off, Love. It's time for us to get cleaned up.” Allen said, pushing slightly on Tyki's shoulders.

“No.” 

“Tyki!” Allen said laughing.

“I'm not.” Tyki said, wrapping his arms around Allen, burying his face into Allen's neck. Allen just giggled, running his hands along Tyki's hair.

“Fine, five more minutes, then we're getting up.”

A noise of agreement came from Tyki, Allen just laughing to himself as he placed a kiss on Tyki's temple. 

[storyknitter]

Guardian Angel

“I didn’t run all the way back here to watch you die, Outlander.”

If Vassanna’d had the energy or the focus, she would have rolled her eyes at Koth. As it were, she could barely draw breath without effort, let alone make a sarcastic quip as she lay on the cold floor. She tried once more to wrap the Force around her like a protective blanket to numb the pain but failed with a whimper.

“She’s got a name, you know. It wouldn’t kill you to use it.”

The snarled comment from a voice she hadn’t heard in years knocked what little breath she had out of her lungs. She struggled to lift her head, glancing up at a face etched into her memory and froze.

Theron.

Oh no. No, please not him. No, Vitiate had to be wrong about his death. That snake in her head had been wrong about Tee, he had to be wrong about Theron too, right? Right? He looked different, though: small, new wrinkles graced the corners of his amber eyes, and salt & pepper adorned his temples. Most importantly, he wore the wrong jacket – it was red, but it wasn’t his. Oh no, no. Not him, too.

“Vassanna? Come on, Vee, we’ve gotta get you back to the ship.” Oh, stars, his voice. It softened as he spoke to her, the way she remembered. It wasn't gaspy or anguished, the way Vitiate had twisted it while she was in carbonite and –

The unrelenting pain in Vassanna’s stomach sharpened, wringing a cry out of her and pulling her away from the vision of Theron. He was right: she had to get back to the Gravestone and its recently stocked medical center quickly. Somehow finding the strength to drag herself upright, she stumbled through an Asylum on the verge of destruction for what seemed like years. Far too often, they had to pause to fight their way through Arcann's forces, much to the chagrin of Force-Ghost Theron.

Around the corner from the exit, mere meters from the final dash to their ship, she and Koth came to a halt. The two – three, if you counted the vision from the past that wouldn't leave her side – huddled behind shipping crates and she tried to steady her ragged breathing. As hard as she tried, Sanna couldn't keep the fiery pain contained; it kept slipping free and ripping the breath from her. Blinking, she realized that Koth said something.

“What?” she mumbled.

“I said there're two Knights over there. And three Skytroopers...”

His voice faded out and she could hear Theron's muddled comments, laced with concern, as she rested her head against a crate. Oh stars, she must be so out of it: had Koth given her a bad pain stim by accident? Surely Lana would have mentioned Theron before if he were still alive, wouldn’t she? No matter, they had to get through this obstacle so she could get to medbay. She couldn’t die, not yet. She had to rid herself of the monster in her head first. Then she could figure out what had happened with Theron.

Focusing once again, Vassanna gathered her strength and grasped at the Force swirling around her. In one smooth motion, the Jedi stood and leapt at the Knights blocking their way. Her unexpected attack stunned them and she dispatched them easily, blaster bolts finding marks around her. The world tilted and she staggered into a crate, holding on for dear life as her lightsabers clattered to the ground. A gloved hand, warm fingers exposed, wrapped around her arm and steadied her.

She glanced up at her aid and couldn’t smother a small smile. “Stars, I'd almost forgotten how handsome you were.”

The smirk Ghost-Theron offered in return didn't reach his eyes. “C'mon, Vassanna. Let's go, we're almost there.”

“I promised you I'd be careful but I wasn't.” She couldn't keep her words from slurring and her tongue felt stiff, too large for her mouth. “I'm sorry I stood you up.”

“We can catch up later, let's keep walking. You need a kolto tank.”

The rest of the short stretch back to the Gravestone passed in a blur, Theron’s worried voice helping her to focus on placing one foot in front of the other.

“Where the fuck is the med center on this monstrosity?” he hissed in her ear. “I don’t have enough kolto on my shuttle or else I’d...”

She tried to gesture in the right direction, but her limbs refused to cooperate. Medbay. Her sole focus became getting to medbay. She was not going to die on this ancient ship, with its eerie whispers, even if she had to crawl to her destination. She refused to die with Vitiate in her head.

Taking a step forward, Sanna's legs faltered and she crashed into the wall: a soft, warm wall that smelled – oh stars, it smelled like Theron. She grasped at something, anything to keep herself upright and moving. Had the crew or the refugees installed fabric for decoration? It was soft, suede-like...

Focus, Vassanna. Medbay. You have to get–

She leaned her head against the wall, grimacing in agony, flames of pain licking at her, twisting, burning her to ash. Ziost flashed through her mind, a memory from her time in carbonite flickering across the back of her eyelids: her crew, her sister, Theron, Master Orgus... they all called out to her for help, yet turned to dust as she reached out, unable to save them.

“C'mon, Vassanna, I've got you. Come with me, this way,” Theron cajoled.

Oh, she wanted more than anything to go with him, to be free of this pain, these burdens she carried. But she couldn't, not yet. Not with her personal demon hovering too close, contaminating everything he touched.

Theron slipped his arm around her, as though to carry her.

“No, I can't,” she whispered, pulling back. “You have to let me go.”

“What?”

“Please, I can't die yet, not with him in my head. I have to get him out of my head first,” she whimpered as panic rose up to strangle her, “I need to–”

“No, Vassanna. I won't let you die.” The conviction in his voice should have been reassuring, but oh, he didn't understand.

“But you're not really here. You're dead. I mean, it's been five years. Everyone's dead, gone... Kira, Doc, Rinnie, the Jedi Order... everyone.” Stars, she was rambling, the words tripping out from her lips. “I know you're a Force vision, but I can't go yet. I have to get rid of him first. Please. Please," she begged, "I don't want to die with him in my head...” Was that pity in his eyes?

“You won’t, I promise. And I'm not some vision, I'm real," he insisted. "I'm right here.”

Vassanna stared at him, incredulous. “You're here? But you– augh.” The pain she'd held at arm's length swelled, spiking through her, and she doubled over in an attempt to ease it. Her legs finally gave way and she crumpled to the metal floor, her fingers clutching at the lapels of his jacket.

“No, no, no, not now, not like this,” Theron whispered desperately, his hand cradling her cheek. “Vassanna? C'mon, stay with me.”

She looked up to reassure him, meeting his gaze with hope before the agony in her chest drowned her. Theron's eyes, filled with horror, were the last thing she saw as the world went black.

~~~~~

Sanna was cold, unbearably so. An icy chill seeped into her bones, leaching all the heat from her body. Her muscles frozen and numb, she couldn’t move – aside from the shivering that wouldn’t stop. She could breathe without suffering, however, and that numbness was certainly worth chattering teeth.

A bright, comforting Force signature glowed next to the gurney, shimmering with affection and concern: Theron. Was he truly there, or was this another of Vitiate’s tricks?

“Vassanna? Damn, you're shaking. Hang on.”

A light pressure enveloped her and brought with it a lethargic warmth that drove away the cold. Sturdy fingers ran through her hair, still wet from kolto, gently combing out tangles.

“Forgot how long your hair was,” he murmured, then sighed. “This is dumb. I don’t even know if you can hear–”

A rushing in her ears drowned out whatever else Theron said. She wanted to see him, talk to him, ask him to stay, but could barely focus.

“...anna?” Another sigh. “Sorry I can’t be here when you wake up. Again. I want to, but–” Theron's voice wavered in and out, muffled, though Sanna strained to catch his words. His fingertips, rough with calluses, trailed along her brow.

“Rest well, Vassanna,” he said softly, mere centimeters from her ear. “I’ll see you again soon. Promise.” His hand cradled her cheek and warm lips pressed to her temple, then her cheek, lingering. “Missed you,” he whispered, as though confessing a long-held secret. “Stay safe.”

Peace surrounded her as he kissed her forehead. The snake hissing in the back of her mind quieted and she drifted into a silent, dreamless sleep.

[rittywritestdp]

Omg just found your blog ahhhh I love it !! Could I request the reader is an elf who Soren finds when on patrol in the woods or something! Could it be a cute and fluffy fic?? Sorry if this is too specific

Oh my gosh! Thank you, that’s so sweet of you Anon. Of COURSE you can! That’s so cute. It’s not too specific at all, it gives me something to run with when y’all tell me what you want! Elf in the Woods Part 1/Part 2Soren

  ♦ The trees of the forest protected decently from the downpour, had it not been raining all day, his patrols horses would’ve had dry ground to walk on. As it stood, the squelching of hooves in mud and pattering of the rain against leaves above them made it impossible to stay vigilant. They were practically sitting ducks, if anyone used the rain as cover for an attack. “Let’s turn back.” Marco called forward, his torso bobbing with the gentle pace of his horse. “There’s no point in patrolling when we can’t hear or see a thing.” He said, looking quite miserable with sopping wet matted black hair hanging over his forehead. Marco knew it was a lost cause, however. There was only one thing in the entire world that Soren took seriously, and that was his duties. He didn’t get to the rank he was at by the age of 18 by slacking.     “If we push you down that hill over there, we could go home to get your injuries taken care of.” Soren suggested, laughing. Marco, however didn’t have time to form a quip. A crack of lightning illuminated the darkening sky and all three of the horses spooked, darting this way and that. Soren’s mount sped straight, a secondary crack of lightning silhouetting the blond man as he was thrown from his saddle with the lurch of his horse skidding to a stop in the mud attop the embankment he’d joked about tossing Marco down. Mud gathered on every piece of plate he wore, his sword jabbing him in the side as he tumbled. Jagged rocks snapped against his skull and saplings caught on his legs, turning him mind tumble.     The moment a sullied knight in less than shining armor skidded into the path before you, you stopped. Your eyes widened with recognition as you saw blood matted with his hair and squinting, disoriented blue eyes squinting at the sky. “Augh.” you heard him give a pained groan and instinctively stepped back as he started to move. With your cloak up, he wasn’t likely to recognize what you were, but you still weren’t ready to take a chance with a Katolis guardman.     You didn’t tell your hand to offer itself to him, but there it was. Perhaps the pity of watching him struggle to right himself won over your better judgement, perhaps you had a death wish. You would know soon. He seemed surprised to see you, as if he hadn’t even seen you before. “Mom..?” He blinked rapidly, wiping equally dirty gloved hands over his grimy face.     “You…really hit your head good, huh?” You asked, knitting your brow at him in concern. Maybe you needed to take him to a doctor. ‘No, don’t be stupid y/n, you can’t do that.’ you mentally scolded yourself. “Let’s get out of this rain.” You said after a moments debate, grasping his wrist and hauling him to his feet before he could object. You were a bit shorter than him, but with your hood up and his dazed state, he was unlikely to see anything out of the ordinary. “You can lean on me if you need to.” You told him, watching the path ahead. He seemed reluctant to take that offer, despite his struggle keeping pace while he was busy favoring his right ankle. “Shameful to lean on someone, Mister Guardman?” You prodded, pursing your lips.     “I’d have to kneel to lean on you.” He snickered, causing you to shoot him a cross look. “Can I lean on your head?” He joked, raising his arm as if he was about to prop his forearm at-top your head. You deftly ducked out from under his reach, knowing full well there would be issues if he felt the horns that resided under your hood. He fell quiet after that, a bit uncertain.      “Where are we going, anyway?” He asked, a moment later.      “There’s an outcropping not far from here. I can look at your injuries there, if you want me to.” You replied easily. The rest of the walk was quiet, a thin tension slowly growing between you and the guardsman. Your brain told you to run, but you didn’t want to. You were interested, intrigued…compelled to see this through. Not to mention if you ran now, they’d be looking for a suspicious cloaked figure if you ran now.      The moment you made it to the outcropping, Soren slowed. “Have you been…living here?” He asked, looking around the camp and then finally letting his eyes land on you. “This place is a mess. Are you on the run?” He asked, all at once. At best, you would now be forced to move camp.      “Yes…and no.” You started. “Yes, I am living here, and no I’m not running from anything, Guardsman.” You replied, sitting down on an old stump and attempting to start the fire. Soren was quiet, and moved to sit across from you on the ground - there was no other chair or anything that could be used as a chair.      “You can’t light a fire in a thunderstorm.” He said, though you had a feeling he’d never lit a fire before. It certainly took more than a couple strikes from the flint stone, but you managed to get a small fire going. The wood you’d collected for the past few days would keep it going for the rest of the day, if you were lucky. He stared at the flame for a moment before opening his mouth to undoubtedly say some quip.      “I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself, despite your better judgement. “What were you doing out in this storm? You had to have known it was dangerous.” You asked, standing to rifle through your pack and find a cloth, some gauze, some bandages, and a bit of poultice to ward off infection. You came to sit beside him, wiping all the un-wounded places off his face clean first. He seemed a bit perturbed at some strange woman cleaning him, but he let you.       “I’m Soren, and I was patrolling. My job is dangerous all the time, too.” He said, almost in a bragging tone. You gave him a dry look. “And, just saying, wearing a cloak up all the time is totally not suspicious at all.” He let the corner of his lip curl up slightly as you searched around for a water basin to wring the cloth out in. You stood, fetching your canteen and a pot to empty it in. You wouldn’t have drinking water, but that didn’t bother you. At this point you just wanted him out of your camp. Or did you? The moment your eyes settled on his face though, you were a bit taken aback. You hadn’t gotten a good look at him before now, what with the mud and all. He was actually…quite nice on the eyes…and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You certainly weren’t going to tell him that. “You’re staring. I didn’t chip a tooth did I?” He began to raise his hand to feel of his mouth but saw how dirty his gloves were and thought better of it.       “No..no it’s just you…have…pretty…eyes?” You said, feeling awkward every word of the way. It was the first thing that came to mind and you regretted it the second he looked surprised. A tinge of pink on his cheeks betrayed his stoicism and his hand raising to rub his neck sunk the ship. His sudden bashfulness was amusing to say the least.      “Thanks, I grew them myself.” He said after a moment, and you let a laugh escape your lips. He gave a toothy grin and leaned back on his palms. “Fix me up, doc.” He said, tilting his head to give you a better look at the bloodied mat of hair on his forehead. You leaned over him, pressing the damp cloth gently to his head and attempting to rinse the blood out of his hair enough to see what had happened. Just as you leaned back to rinse your rag out, Soren caught your hand. “You…know I know right?” He asked, looking at your fingers briefly before releasing your hand. You felt your blood run cold, swallowing heavily before mustering the bravery it took to look up at his face.      “…I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” You hushed, dropping the cloth and pulling your hood down. He just eyed you for almost a full moment, you think you even saw him swallow…as if he was nervous. “Nice eyes.” He said. “Grow them yourself?” He joked, yet you missed the joke completely. Instead you knitted your brows at the man.     “You..aren’t mad? Upset?” You were confused. Beyond confused. This man wore Katolis’ colors and yet he was willing to make nice with an elf? He opened his mouth a couple times to reply, but fell flat each.       Finally he looked to the fire instead, it seemed to make it easier for him to speak if he wasn’t looking at you. “I know they say you’re evil and monstrous.” he began. “You went out of your way to help me. You could’ve killed me plain and simple, right then and there…but you didn’t. I’ve just got this feeling.” He said, his voice like a wisp on the wind, growing quieter as he continued on. You wanted to reach out and touch him, to show him how much it meant that he was willing to say that, but you were still frozen. “And I mean, if that gets a bit of my blood sucked or my eyeballs roasted on a skewer, I think that’s a fair trade.” He laughed again, pausing a second later and shaking his head lightly as he realized his error. “I mean, I don’t actually. Please don’t take my eyes.” He said with enough sincerity to send you into a fit of laughter.       Once you recovered from your fit, you wiped a lonesome tear from your eye and just grinned at him. “Ah, my plan, foiled before it even began.” You mocked. “Do humans really fear think elves eat eyes?” You asked, beginning to clean his head once more.       “I mean, they say all kinds of stuff.” He said. “Believe it? Psh, not at all.” He said in a Totally Convincing Voice. You just grinned, leaning closer and pulling his head down under your chin so that you could see the wound.       “It looks like you just got a cut, and probably a concussion. When you get home, see a doctor.” You said, dabbing it onto his skull. The rain sounded like it was letting up, that meant his patrol would be looking for him soon. However, the thought of him returning to his people made you feel a bit lonely. He was the only company you’d had since you left Xadia. You let him sit back up and grinned as soon as you saw his flushed cheeks. “You okay, Guardsman?” You teased.        “Much better than I would’ve been laying in the ditch back there.” He said, giving you a lopsided grin.       “I…was going to put some bandages on…but if your men see you have a bandage they’ll have questions.” You said, nervously, looking to the fire once more. It was quiet between you for a minute, save for the crackling of the fire and the cascade of rain outside. Your fingers fumbled together nervously in your lap while you watched the flames devour the logs and sticks before you.        “I won’t tell them.” He said, voice low. “About you…or your camp.” He said, and you felt him bump into your shoulder as he scooted closer. “I owe you that much.” He added. You didn’t even know what to say. You didn’t know how to express your gratitude. You didn’t know if you could believe him. “Can I…come visit again? Will you be here?” He asked, and you wiped your head around quick enough to give yourself whiplash to look at him in bewilderment. His face was beat red, you placed a hand to his forehead. Was he running a fever? Or was he blushing more than humanly possible? He slowly turned his face to look at you, looking like a child who was trying to apologize for something tragic. He looked so vulnerable, sitting in the flickering firelight, hair still drooping with the weight of the rain, and his armor dented and sullied as if he’d left it on a road for a month. You almost wanted to pull him into a hug and tell him that it would be alright. “That’s weird. That’s weird to ask.” He hushed, seemingly to himself as he mentally scolded himself. You brought your hands to his cheeks and turned his head to force him to look you in the eyes, nearly nose to nose.      “I would love a visit.” You hushed, the look in his wide blue eyes amusing you enough to drown your own embarrassment out. He just stared. Even after you’d settled back down beside him. He just stared. Until he pulled his left glove off with a quick tug and slid his palm against yours.       “There for a moment I thought you were about to take my eyes.” He joked and you shoved him with your shoulder. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, watching the rain slowly let up outside and enjoying each others company while it lasted. I hope this is good! I’ve not written nearly as much fluff as I have angst and stuff but I like it! I wrote a bit more than I was planning but hey, I’m not complaining. -☼