#beast keeping is cool as hell automatically

[felidthing]

i need felli to be real so bad. feli. idk how im spelling it. i need a fun colorful fursona i love my brown kitty but thats likeee a truesona or whatever that is just literally me. i want a Character. and i want it to be fun colors!!!!!! also i need Felli Day the toh oc to be real i want a kittycat thats learning magic. where are my fun animal toh ocs guys where are you all

[chaoticace2005]

Why Alastor has a cane:

1. It doubles as a microphone and looks cool.

2. It’s a power tool that he has to carry around to maintain his strength.

3. Gives him an air of authority.

4. He heard Lucifer had a cane. He needed a better one. Alastor’s has multiple functions!!

5. It’s just the style!

6. Lilith gave it to him and said he’s never to let it out of his sight.

7. It’s his emotional support cane.

8. The cane owns his soul. He has to carry it around where ever he goes as part of their deal.

9. Lucifer broke his ankle once when he kicked him. He has to use the cane for support.

10. That cane is actually sinners whose soul he owns. This is the final form of the first soul he owned. He took their energy until they became one with him and an inanimate object. Now this is where he keeps all the souls he contracts, taking more energy from them until they too become one with the cane. Husk is next :)

11. He was shipwrecked on an island. Completely alone (after eating everyone) he found the cane and named it “Wilson”, developing a parasocial relationship with it. Wilson died but when Alastor went to hell they were waiting for him.

12. When he fell to Hell he landed the wrong way and now his knee is perpetually messed up.

13. Husk told him he should “talk to somebody” so Alastor just grabbed the cane and said “fine.” The cane is now his therapist and he talks to it when he’s alone. His voice keeps everyone up at night.

14. Twisted his ankle from his heeled boots.

15. That bitch Susan seemed to think she was all that because of her cane.

16. It’s his pet.

17. It’s his one true love and the only thing that actually understands him.

18. He thinks his mother got cursed “Beauty and the Beast” style and turned into that cane. Whether this is actually the case remains to be seen.

19. ITS A BOMB

20. It acts a device to scramble signals, which is why he can’t be captured on camera.

21. So if he comes across something gross he can simply push it away with his cane.

22. Automatic weapon when you’re in a jam.

23. So he can say “STICKS and stones may break your bones!” as he torture and kills someone.

24. So he’s always show ready!

25. He just has chronic pain okay?! YOU try living over a hundred years, being a serial killer, and then getting shot!

26. The microphone actually gives off some feedback that is unbearable to some demons (like Husk) as another way to torture them.

27. The cane is actually Alastor. The body we thought was Alastor is being puppeteered by the cane.

28. It’s a palisman he stole from Emperor Belos and has been trying to keep hidden since someone ate all the others.

29. Vox once said canes were outdated and tacky, so of course Alastor had to prove him wrong.

30. It was a gift from Rosie!

31. So he has even more reach to wack the wings of flying ex-Angels.

32. It’s his soulmate.

33. You know those little blankets little kids carry around with them? The ones they’ll freak out if they’re missing. Yeah it’s like that.

34. He has crippling depression.

35. His therapist told him he needed to get some supports in his life.

36. It’s been the only one there to SUPPORT him this whole time. At this point he has to keep caney around. He’s moved so much in life with them, so to leave them behind would be immobilizing.

[withacapitalp]

Because the girlies really loved my last post about Argyle (and I can't remember if I put this here or not) have some more unconditional jargyle love

“I got a job today,” 

All conversation halted as over a dozens pairs of eyes turned to stare at him. Argyle gave them all a half smile and shoving some more vegetables in his mouth. 

“A job?” Jonathan managed to sputter out, looking at Argyle like he was from another planet. He did that a lot, always had, so it didn't really bug him.

Argyle was fine with being weird.  

“Hawkins Pizza! Gino wants me to start on Thursday, earlier if I can. They reallllllly need the help,” Argyle said with a disappointed shake of his head, taking another bite of broccoli and telling them the whole story. 

He had gone in on an impulse while he was waiting to pick up Robin and Steve from work. He had just wanted a slice, maybe to pick some up for dinner tonight so Joyce didn’t have to cook, but he had walked into a waking nightmare. Half baked mushy dough, tomato sauce that tasted like it came right out of a jar, and a cheese blend that had zero stringiness. 

They didn’t even have pineapple. It was a complete travesty.

The owner hadn’t appreciated his observations at first, even threatened to kick him out, but he had managed to swing the man around by offering to make him a real pizza. 

Twenty five minutes later Argyle had a job offer and a super nice new boss. Turns out the dude was way chill, just overwhelmed by being one of three restaurants left standing after the earthquake. But good pizza made everyone feel better. It was one of the reasons Argyle had loved being at Surfer Boy so much. 

“Y’all won’t be able to handle the sick ass pies I’m about to be slinging,” He said with a lazy shaka and a chuckle. 

Everyone was still looking at him, but not with as much confusion. They all congratulated him,  lowly going back to the conversations they had been having before. 

Well everyone except Jonathan, but that guy was always zonked out. 

“You’re staying?” Jonathan finally asked. 

“As long as its still cool for me to crash on your couch, my guy,” Argyle answered. Shoot. He probably should have asked that first before taking the job, but he had just been excited to get to start making pizzas again. Being in Hawkins wasn’t anything like Cali, and he had jumped at the chance for something just a little bit familiar. 

“Of course it is. Stay as long as you want,” Jonathan answered automatically, not missing a beat, “I just- I-“

Jonathan cut himself off with an irritated sigh, turning to stare down at his plate. Argyle let him have the moment, bopping his head along to the music playing in his head and happily spacing out. 

Jonny needed things like this, moments where he could debate whatever was going on inside. His best friend was ‘cerebral’ as his abuela would put it- he needed time in his head to find the right thing to say. 

Or he needed time to find the courage to say he wanted to say without fear. Either way, Argyle didn’t mind waiting. 

“I guess I just didn’t expect you to want to stay,” Jonathan mumbled out, still keeping his eyes on his plate and not his best friend, “I mean given how insane everything is,” 

It was insane. It was all insane.

Two weeks ago they had been hitting golfballs into old cars and talking about how Jonathan needed to get his shit together, and now they were sitting in the living room of an abandoned cabin halfway across the country, surrounded by people who had only taken ten days to feel like family to him. 

It was insane that Jonathan’s little sister could move stuff with her mind, and there was apparently an alternate dimension full of hell beasts that were determined to break into their world and destroy everything. It was insane that he had known nothing about the guy he swore was his best friend, and it was insane that Argyle still managed to find a way to love him through all of it. 

But sometimes insane was a good thing.

“Where else would I wanna be?” Argyle said instead with an easy grin, slinging an arm around Jonathan’s shoulder and leaning into his best friend’s space. 

[dumbfinntales]

After a little over two weeks of play I’m done with Final Fantasy XVI. It was one hell of a ride. I have a lot to say about this game, both good and bad. There’ll also be story spoilers below so if you haven’t beaten the game don’t click read more. Seriously, experience the story for yourself. It’s a journey unlike any other.

Final Fantasy XVI is an action RPG set in a fantastical world of magic, beasts and oppression. Loads of oppression, death and misery. But also joy and love. The game is more action than RPG, in fact the RPG elements in this game are very shallow. You have “levels” but stat ups are automatic and the little gear you can get only boost up numbers. So it’s more Devil May Cry than Final Fantasy. But this didn’t bother me because the gameplay is fucking awesome.

The combat is without a doubt the highlight of this game. The combination of different Eikon powers and Clives basic moveset make for very satisfying action. If you don’t use those assist accessories (and I don’t know why you would, the game plays itself with those on) you have a lot to keep track of and sometimes the combat feels like your fingers start cramping because you wanna keep the damage going. Although the combat is flashy and cool the game isn’t very challenging. I only died on optional hunts and died once to a story boss. But even then the game is generous, re-filling your potions and the boss doesn’t even start with full health. But the main point is that the combat was fun and I never bored of fighting small mobs or bigger monsters.

The bosses in this game were amazing. Not particularly super difficult, but they made up with cool presentation and memorable set pieces. Some of the bosses reach the ridiculous levels of Platinum Games’ bosses, especially during Eikon fights like Titan and Bahamut. I honestly wasn’t expecting these kinds of bosses, but I was happy to see them. The final boss was also perfect. I was slightly disappointed by Barnabas, while he was a fun fight in a DMC kind of way, I was expecting Platinum Games’ levels of ridiculous, but the final boss delivered in spades. It truly felt final and each phase could have been a final phase.

Another thing that I ended up loving way more than I expected was the story. Not just the story, but the characters and the world itself. The story of FFXVI is without a doubt my favorite video game story of all time. It is the only story out of many story heavy games where I actually cared. I cared about the characters, the world and their struggles. The story was very dark at places with tragedy and death behind every corner. And the oppression of the bearers was especially brutally depicted. But also there were good times and triumphs. I honestly don’t know what this game did different, but I cared so much for almost all the charactes and I talked to them not just to exhaust dialogue, but because I cared what they had to say about current events.

I admit that due to this I got emotional a few times during the story, and I felt a special kind of euphoria to see Clives journey to the end and that he realized his and Cids dream. A world without magic, and we even get to see this world they worked so hard for towards the end. One thing I did find odd however. The mother figure we see at the end says that Eikons and magic are just a fairy tale from a book, but that makes no sense. Even if magic is gone, magic used to be a thing for hundreds of years. Clive ridding the world of magic doesn’t erase the entire history of the world where people wrote books and shared stories. Magic would be a thing of the past that people would talk about, but not something they’d deny as a fairy tale. I dunno, I guess that line was there to show off Clives success. I’m still glad their stories lived on.

The world of Valisthea is honestly amazing, but the ending felt very final with magic being gone. I don’t know how they’d be able to make DLC or continue this world in any way. Either they have to explore the past, or we see a resurfacing of magic. Although I hope not. If magic came back it would kinda invalidate Clives journey.

I’ve sung the games praises, but it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing. I had some problems with the game. Some major problems. Let’s start with the pacing of the story. Yes, the story was amazing, but it wasn’t all the time. The game had a very strange pace where you’d first experience the most thrilling amazing action and story twists of your life, and then everything comes to a screeching halt as you have to walk around talking with people for an hour. I said I enjoyed the characters, but not all of them, and they didn’t always have interesting things to say. Coming from an amazing boss fight to doing fetch quests where you talk to a bunch of people is jarring, and not very exciting.

Not to mention if you’re like me who feels the need to complete all side content. Holy shit the side quests in this game were ass. They wary so much in quality, some of them I admit are interesting and they build up the world and characters wonderfully. Without side quests you would never find out the backstories of many supporting characters like Charon, Blackthorne, Gav etc... And there were some really interesting ones (and dark) like the one where some noble man and his son send bearers to their death for fun, or a little girl whose lost pet was a bearer. Really highlighting how fucking dark this world was.

However, most side quests were just uninteresting. Go here and talk to this person, hunt down this monster or could you find my missing friend? At some point I just sort of stopped caring about the side quests and started spacing out during the excessive amount of dialogue they had, but I did do all of them in the end.

The game was also very cut-scene and dialogue heavy, but that didn’t really bother me as I did care about the story. Most of the time at least. I do feel like sometimes things dragged on for too long, or some things were too cinematic. Like the first “phase” of the final boss was literally just an interactive cut-scene where you get to press buttons sometimes. Like I said, the pacing of the story was just all over the place and there was a lot of fluff.

I’m not gonna say that FFXVI is a masterpiece 10/10, but it was one of the most enjoyable triple A games I’ve played in a long time. It’s a game that’ll divide people, you either really hate it or really love it for what it is. Some people expected a more RPG oriented game. And some are fine with the game being a medieval Devil May Cry with Dragonball Z boss battles. I might not be replaying this game any time soon, but this experience will stay with me for a long time.

[whathebeep]

Part 2- Halsin

Halsin? Oh it goes without saying that Halsin will bathe in any stream, pond or waterfall that is close enough to camp, but far enough away for privacy. Mind you he doesn't just strip and jump in- he scopes out the area first, makes sure the water is safe, checks that there's no tell tale signs of predators that frequent the area, so on.

Whether or not he bathes alone, he's not at all shy about stripping down out in the open- hells, if the weather permits he probably washing his clothes first, then lays them out to dry on a warm rock while he cleans himself. It doesn't change at all when he gets together with Tav- and if there is another, their other partner is too. He'd ask them all along, if they so wished.

Halsin would be the type to help you down into the river, giving you a flat spot to sit or stand on. He's certainly no stranger to stepping on rough rocks in the river so he doesn't mind. I imagine he's familiar with all the plants that are similar to ginger lily, and can be harvested to act as an all natural shampoo- whatever the equivalent of it is I imagine it smells strongly of ginger, as does he. Hell, Halsin probably also makes his own soap out of beeswax and honey, giving him a sweet scent of both.

He'd be certain to help bathe Tav- washing their hair carefully, careful to keep the soap and water out of their eyes when he rinses with handfuls of scooped up water. Eventually He'd start to give gentle kisses, commenting on you and your natural beauty, how gorgeous you look like this out among the Oak Father's creations- knowing Halsin it would be borderline worship, his hands running over your skin as he cleans you himself, insistent that you should relax and let him work. After your hair is washed and dried enough I imagine, if long enough, he would also braid it- either one long braid or a few small single braids to frame one side of Tav's face. He'd have no qualms about holding Tav close in his lap and enjoying the cool sensation of the running water on their skin, eventually both leaving the water to lay in the grass or across a warm rock in the sun, allowing themselves to be naked (as nature intended) for a while before eventually getting dressed to head back to camp. Or, depending on the mood, getting down and dirty either on the riverbank or in the water 👀

BONUS***

I imagine sometimes as a bear he needs a good cleaning too. I dunno how dirt and grime would transfer between wildshape, but given that when turning back you're automatically back in your gear, I imagine the grime stays on the beast form for when you turn back into it. He probably asks for help as it can be tedious, especially post battle- and he makes sure to harvest a bunch of the natural shampoo ahead of time for scenarios like this. It's probably a long tedious affair and he would do much to repay Tav for the assistance later- but it more or less includes him sitting in the water with Tav on the river's edge or sitting on a stable spot in the river and giving him a good scrub clean- it definitely involves bringing a bucket along too to rinse him. Once he's all clean he more than likely has to go lay in the sun to dry, probably taking a nap while he's at it. Tav, of course, would join him after bathing themself and getting rid of the wet bear smell, leaning against his belly and dozing peacefully.

Bathing with your partner(s)

Cause with the new patches I'm thinking about a romance scene where you bathe with your companion- can or can't be sexual but is just a nice intimate moment!

Part 1- Astarion (cause I rambled too long for this one lol and now it's gonna be multiple parts)

I imagine Astarion is hesitant about bathing before back in Baldur's Gate. He doesn't like the idea of bathing in a river or a pond where fish or other things could touch him while he's trying to get clean. He would hoard the create/destroy water scrolls so he could basically have a quick shower/rinse every few days when getting bad.

I think Tav would find a still relatively good condition tub at what's left of Waukeen's rest and would haul it back to camp (the og one by the river). Set it up in the ruins across the log and collect the things needed for a nice bath- some nice smelling fragrant soap- perhaps a heavy bergamot scent, a clean sponge and such, all bought from some merchants, and even tying it all together with some aged baldurian red. I imagine he'd be more than pleased at the sight of the bath- and Tav would be more than happy to replace the water as needed. He'd want to get clean, first and foremost- and then probably relax in fresh warm water afterwards. Drink some wine, perhaps gaze up at the stars and think.

Later, however? Once he's all fresh and clean? Oh he brings Tav to the bath for a good cleaning. He half truths his way into it- you need a bath, you smell like dry blood and sweat, he's making everyone take a bath- but once Tav is naked and in the tub, he's got his sleeves rolled up and is helping. He's cleaning Tav's hair, paying mind to be gentle. He's probably got a comb on him too to help work through any knots or tangles ever so gently. He puts his hand on Tav's shoulder and asks permission to help clean their back with the soap- the same bar he used. Certainly something he'd mention later about you smelling like him. After Tav is clean and rinsed he would certainly join them in the tub, both relaxing in hot water- and either with Tav in his lap or him straddling Tav's lap he would have his fill of their neck there, licking the wound clean with his tongue before settling to relax in the water for a bit longer.

In Baldur's Gate? Oh, Astarion takes Tav to a specific Inn that has the biggest baths you could imagine. Specially ordered soaps, a bar, a nice big fluffy bed with the softest silk sheets and thick duvets, provided spell scrolls for create/destroy water, spell scrolls to heat the water, the whole nine yards. A nice long bath to start, each of you taking turns to get nice and clean, the other helping from just outside the tub. More intimate hair cleaning, along with gentle kisses here and there. I imagine from downstairs you can hear a bard playing instrumental music. It's serene.

Then once they're both clean they're both back in to relax- have a drink, probably read some books you've collected on your journeys. Astarion pays mind to massage Tav's long scarred hands- both old and new, depending on their life. He pays mind of where to press and where to massage to help relieve the tension, kissing each hand once he's done. Now that they're both a lot closer, when he drinks from Tav this time it's probably a lot more intimate. Hands roaming, fingers tracing circles here or there, rubbing, groping. Lots of tender kisses shared after for certain.

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Weathering the Storm (Ororo Munroe x Reader)

Summary: The boys never learn.

Words: 1081

Warnings: Language?

A/N: My first time with her but at the request of my girlfriend, I am nothing if not willing to try. Also, the original Storm is absolutely the best so Ms. Berry is who I imagine. Also... so pretty.

Taglist: @natasharomanoffswife​ @natasha-danvers​ @aaron-despair​ @username23345 @xjiasx​ @nowthisisliving27 @higherfurther-romanova​ @summergeezburr @marvels-writings @imnotasuperhero @miscmarvelwritings @captain-josslett @onlyafewfindtheway @hayleyokami @b-5by5 @lostandsearching @evilcr0ne

-X-

Leaning against the wall, watching Storm chew out Logan and Scott for yet another petty fight over Jean, you considered the weather goddess with curious eyes. Always a champion for her friend, if you didn’t know her the way you did, you’d almost be concerned she’d electrocute both men until they managed to retract their heads from their asses.

“She has been with you for years, Scott, why are you so insecure about this? Do you think Jean looks at either of you and thinks this is attractive? For God’s sake, I’m sure cavemen would have better manners!” she scolded, throwing her hands up in the air exasperatedly.

As your hair began to rise on its own, you huffed, kicking off the wall and strolling casually over to the irate woman, wrapping a calming arm around her waist.

“C’mon, Munroe, breathe. One-Eye and Beast Boy over there aren’t worth a tornado,” you joked, glancing out the window at the darkening sky.

Feeling her sag into your hold, she gripped your arm tightly and glared at them. “This needs to stop. Jean despises this rivalry of yours and is starting to feel like a prize to be won instead of a person. It doesn’t matter who wins an argument or gets the last word. She makes her choice.”

“And I highly doubt, if you keep acting like macho morons, she’s going to want to stay with either of you,” you added with a smirk. “This whole ‘whose dick is bigger’ contest is getting to be kind of pathetic all the way around. No one here thinks y’all are cool doing this; we honestly kind of pity you both.”

Logan’s hackles visibly raised as his dark gaze fell upon you but you shrugged it off. Even if they didn’t want to admit it, everyone knew you were right. It was up to them to decide where to go from here.

“Why do either of you get to decide how Jean feels?” Scott questioned, shrinking under the proverbial – or maybe literal, you couldn’t be sure from this angle – lightning glistening in Storm’s eyes.

“Because you two don’t listen when Jean says how she’s feeling, so maybe you’ll listen to us. Or don’t, and watch Jean leave both of you for someone else. I’m sure there’s plenty of guys –”

“- or ladies,” you chimed in helpfully.

“Or ladies here that would be more than happy to earn Jean’s affection.”

Chuckling, you pressed your chin to Storm’s shoulder as you studied the crestfallen expression painted across Scott’s cheeks. “I know Emma is pretty fond of her. And her diamonds make her pretty much immune to whatever Jean can do so she’d be a great fit. Plus Rogue’s always had a crush on her – once she finally got tired of Bobby being Bobby – and she’s not a kid anymore. Hell, she can drink now. I’m sure she’d have no qualms about stealing Jean’s heart away.”

The redness blossoming across their faces filled you with glee. You liked Logan – he whined less than Scott, which automatically made him better than Laser-Face in your eyes – but he was acting no better.

Pressing her back into your chest, Storm peered at the silent men. “Any other questions you’d like to voice now?”

Growling quietly to himself, Logan stalked out of the room without a glance at anyone, fishing a cigar from his pocket as he went. Scott did the same, though he went in a different direction, probably off to lick his wounds in peace.

“They didn’t hear a word we said, did they?” Storm mumbled, closing her eyes as the familiar tightness of an impending headache made itself known.

Humming softly, you swayed to a beat only you could hear, ignoring the way your heart thumped painfully loud at the position you were in. It’d been instinctual, but now she wasn’t trying to inch away and you weren’t ready to let go. “I think Logan was listening, even if it wasn’t what he was hoping to hear. Scott on the other hand? Probably not. He’s always seemed to view Jean as a prize instead of a person. He’s tried controlling her from day one, she just doesn’t listen.”

Silence filled the living room, a nervousness overtaking you as you wondered what came next. Should you let her go? Surely Ororo didn’t want to be kept hostage in your arms…

Right?

“You know, I don’t know if I should be thanking you for what you said to the boys or if I should be teasing you right now.”

Jean’s amusement was palpable as she sauntered into the room, her brow arched and lips upturned. If you were anyone else, she’d probably be skeptical of your motives – of the way you were cuddling with her best friend so openly, like it was a completely normal occurrence for Storm to let anyone hold her in such an intimate manner – but it was plain to see how much you cared for her. The fact you two weren’t dating was more confusing than any position she could catch you in.

“Jean…”

“Since they had no questions to ask, I’ll ask one instead. When are you going to finally admit you have feelings for each other? This game of ‘will they or won’t they’ is exhausting.” The look in her eyes was expectant, but gentle, quietly urging you to force the step you’d never managed to take before. “I will leave you to discuss. Thank you for talking to them for me, though. I think everyone in this awful game of tug-of-war needed to hear what you said.”

She was gone before you could say a word, gone just as quickly as she’d arrived. Gentle like a leaf in the breeze but far more powerful than a hurricane, she was truly exceptional at making an impact in a short amount of time.

Damn you, Jean Grey.

Hush eclipsed you once more. Finding the right words seemed impossible; what could you say to a woman like Ororo Munroe without sounding like an utterly love struck teenager?

“…wanna get coffee sometime?” you mumbled when all else failed, thankful she couldn’t see the awkward grin on your lips or feel the way your cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

For a moment, all was still and you considered letting her go so you could retreat in mortified shame. Why did you have to ask such a stupid, silly question?

You idiot, why did you…

“…I’d really like that.”

[chenziee]

Romance Dawn for the East Blue

Inspired by @feriowind‘s blessed tweet about Yamato winding up on Dawn Island :)

Enjoy 4k words of the 4 brothers driving everyone  crazy :D

[Read on AO3 or below the cut]

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Slowly blinking awake, Yamato struggled to remember why he was lying on the beach of some strange island, the smell of sea salt and trash mixing in the air into something almost worse than the confines of his prison of Onigashima. Almost. It was still freedom after all, and Yamato would gladly take this disgusting smell over his father threatening to place bombs on his wrists.

Looking around groggily, his eyes finally fell on the sad, wooden remains of a small boat, a boat that Yamato had been using to sail this unfamiliar sea during the past weeks. And he finally remembered the terrible events that had led him to this island.

 Yes, it was a dark, stormy night, the likes of which Yamato had never seen even in the unpredictable New World, and definitely not since his escape in the peaceful and calm East Blue. He had fought to keep his boat from capsizing, fighting against the strong winds and ocean currents all by himself for hours… but then suddenly, a Neptunian so large it could only have come from the Calm Belt appeared. Yamato had managed to fight it off but unfortunately, his boat suffered too much damage from the power of his Thunder Bagua. He was then forced to swim to the nearest shore with the last bits of strength he had left—

"I saw the Lord of the Coast attack the fishing boat this person was sleeping in. It was really funny, when they woke up, they screamed so loud I think even the people in Fuusha heard. And then they fell in the water while trying to stand up. But the idiot apparently can't swim so I had to go fish them out."

Yamato froze in place at the boyish voice who was retelling his heroic battle so rudely. Wasn't he allowed to at least pretend?  

Another boy, this one sounding even younger, started snickering then. "I like this person, Sabo! They’re so funny!"

"Luffy, you're the last one who should be laughing here," a third voice sighed. "Anchor boy." Yamato could almost hear the cheeky smirk on his face as he teased this 'Luffy'.

“Don’t call me that!” the youngest one cried, sounding like he was about to fight the other boy.

“Ace, don’t provoke him,” the first boy chided. “You’ll wake the idiot with your fighting.”

That was it.

“Will you stop calling me an idiot?!” Yamato shouted as he sprung up to a sitting position, an embarrassed blush on his face.

They all paused at the sudden movement, blinking up at him in shock. Yamato glowered at them one by one, taking note of how tiny these kids were—the blond and the freckled one looked no older than 12, while the other could be maybe 8. The blond was the only one dripping in water, just as much as Yamato himself was, and Yamato could only assume this was Sabo, the one who had pulled him out of the water. That would make Freckles ‘Ace’, and the youngest one ‘Luffy’.

Yamato had to wonder, though, how Sabo was able to save him all by himself. Yamato was 16 years old, a lot older than however old these boys were, and he was Kaido’s son—meaning he was already much taller than some adults. Although, he supposed he had seen stranger things and people a lot stronger than a human their size should have been. An image of Oden during his execution came to mind immediately but Yamato quickly chased the memory away.

“Oh look, the idiot’s awake,” Ace said lazily, looking thoroughly unimpressed by Yamato’s glare and simply returning it with one of his own.

Luffy, on the other hand, grinned brightly, hopping over to Yamato to stare up at him with stars in his eyes. “Are those horns? Real ones?”

Blinking, Yamato’s hand automatically reached up to touch one of his horns. “Yeah?” he replied slowly, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Was it that weird to people not from the Grand Line to see someone with features like this?

“That’s so cool! Join my pirate crew!” His grin only widened with his request—or demand.

Yamato tilted his head to the side. “You have a pirate crew?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, not yet,” Luffy said, a small pout appearing on his lips. “But eventually, I will be the Pirate King so of course I will have one!” he announced looking so proud and sure of himself and Yamato felt his lips twitch upward.

“Sure, King, I’ll tag along with you,” he laughed, seeing no harm in indulging the adorable kid. And who knew? Maybe he really would end up sailing with him. After all, in 12 years, the Nine Red Scabbards would come back to Wano and Yamato needed to be back there by then. He needed to help open the country.

And who was to say he couldn’t bring the Pirate King with him?

Sabo clicked his tongue then, walking up to Luffy and ruffling his hair. “Stop that, you don’t even know this person’s name.”

“Oh right,” Yamato said, hitting t he palm of his hand with his fist in sudden realization. “Sorry. I’m Kozuki Oden. You can also call me Yamato. Son of Kaido. Thanks for helping me.”

----------

“Ace! Luffy! What’s the meaning of this?!”

Yamato groaned; always a wonderful way to wake up. “Are you drunk again, you bull-gorilla? Go away it’s too early for this,” he shouted back, not even bothering to open his eyes.

There was a moment of silence until someone stomped over to stand right above Yamato’s head. “What did you just call me, you brat?”

Finally, Yamato blinked up at the person with long ginger hair, a cigarette between their lips, and looking decidedly female. He closed his eyes again, mumbling, “Oh you’re not my father. Whatever then.” As soon as he was done, he pulled his blanket over his head to try and get some more peace and quiet.

It might not have been his father but it still was too early for this.

“Dadan, shut up,” some one whined from somewhere around halfway down Yamato’s body.

“Yeah, what’s the problem?” another person joined in, their voice coming from Yamato’s other side.

Oh right. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy had brought him back to their place last night; this had to be the nasty old hag they mentioned. Definitely seemed like one.

“First Garp drops you two on me, then you bring in more and more kids with you? What do you expect me to do, this isn’t a daycare!” It sounded like the woman was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Finally, Sabo spoke up, sounding about as sleepy as Yamato felt, “Dadan, this is our brother, Yamao. Yamao, Dadan.” With that, he flopped back down, his head coming to rest against Yamato’s thigh.

“I’m not a pillow, you three!” Yamato snapped upon the realization of how the boys were laying with their limbs thrown all over the place, Yamato’s own body included. “And it’s Ya-ma-to,” he added with a sigh, already giving giving up on convincing them to not use Luffy’s nickname.

“Where the hell did you manage to pick up another brother,” Dadan complained and Yamato was starting to feel a little sorry for her. He had to admit that dealing with these three was like fighting a hurricane and it hasn’t even been 24 hours since he met them. At least now he was there, a responsible teenager to keep them in check. She should really be grateful he happened to… choose this island to land on.

“Alright, kid. I don’t care who you are you where you came from—” the woman paused, folding her arms over her chest as she stared down and Yamato— “but I will not feed you. One bowl of rice per day is all I can guarantee you.”

Yamato laughed, “That’s not necessary. Oden could do it, I would be a disgrace if I couldn’t take care of myself and my brothers, too.”

Dadan stared at him for a moment, blinking once, twice, before she threw he hands up in frustration. As she walked away, Yamato could hear her mumbling to herself about stupid brats who couldn’t be phased by anything and how she was going to ‘let Garp have it’ the next time he ‘bothered to show his sorry ass’ there.

Yamato simply shrugged and went back to sleep.

----------

Life on Dawn Island turned out to be surprisingly easy and, even more surprisingly, fun. It didn’t take Yamato long to get to know the forest, the mountain, and the Grey Terminal beyond it, running around the place with his little brothers like he was born there with them.

“Yamao, where are you going, that’s the opposite direction!” Sabo called after him in exasperation, pointing the right way.  

A few days after his arrival, he went to retrieve his kanabo from the waters just off the shore. Ace had looked at him, asking why he was so desperate if it was the same weapon the father he so hated used and Yamato couldn’t admit he had a point but… he simply didn’t feel right without it. It was his weapon as well now, and the bull-gorilla wouldn’t take that away from him.

It took him three hours of diving but the happiness and rightness of his kanabo next to him was well worth the effort.

“What are you two anchors doing?” Ace shouted from where he was in the water and towards the two at the beach, looking incredibly annoyed.  

Yamato and Luffy exchanged a glance before turning back to Ace and replying in unison, “Building a pirate ship from sand.”  

Just then, Sabo’s head popped out of the water next to Ace. “I need a break,” he gasped, struggling to catch his breath after being underwater for so long.  

“This club of yours better be made from gold, Yamao, or so help me,” Ace grumbled before leaving Sabo to rest and diving in instead.  

Once he had his kanabo in hand, it became incredibly easy to hunt even the most ferocious beasts around, allowing Yamato enough room to stay back and direct the young brothers, giving them pointers and helping them with their hunting techniques. Usually, he simply watched, letting the boys do most of the hunt, even if it meant the prey got away sometimes. After all, making mistakes and losing was a good way to get stronger. So he let them do their own thing while making sure they were okay, and only jumping in when necessary.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We go around the river, then we split up. Me and Luffy will go up while you and Ace follow the riverbed. It’s risky, but on my signal, you will catch its attention and keep it distracted. Then me and Luffy jump down at its head. Hopefully that will at least knock it out so you and Ace can then come help us finish it. And Yamao—” Sabo paused, giving Yamato a hard, subtly threatening look— “if you run ahead screaming and scare it off again, we’re having you for dinner.” 

Yamato could only gulp and nod obediently.  

He even managed to impress the local Madonna, the cute pub owner Makino. The first time she had come to visit after Yamato had arrived, she immediately dropped all the food, alcohol, and children’s clothes that she had brought, and ran straight to him. She gave him all of her attention the rest of her stay. And even though Yamato wasn’t interested, he had to admit that being fawned over, and especially the jealous stares all the bandits were giving him, felt great.

“Oh my,” Makino muttered when she noticed Yamato. “Luffy did say Yamao was a little taller than him but…” she trailed off, her expression turning troubled.  

“You don’t have any clothes big enough for him, do you?” Dogra asked, munching on one of the cones Makino had brought.  

The young woman shook her head, sighing, “I think I’ll have to make them all from scratch. Yamao, can you come here? I need to take some measurements.” 

"Yamao, you're blushing more than Ace did!" Luffy pointed out immediately, clutching his stomach as he doubled over in laughter.  

Yamato made sure his hand was coated in haki when he hit the boy over the head.  

Over all, he had to say he much prefered the life of a cool big brother over being a pirate crew’s' ‘young master’. It was a lot more fun, a lot easier to breathe. He never felt more free than he did while laughing and running around the mountain, plotting pranks on their brothers with Ace, or getting grounded— getting thanked by Sabo for running off and beating up the pathetic excuses for pirates who had hurt Luffy and threatened the boys' treasure stash.

Even Dadan's frustrated screaming felt more loving than anything the bull-gorilla of a biological parent had ever shown him. And no, it definitely wasn’t much more embarrassing.

----------

"I don't want to be a marine!" Luffy screamed one morning just as the others were getting ready to head out to work their brand new tree house base.

Both Sabo and Ace froze, turning to stare at each other for a moment with wide eyes.

"Run?" Ace asked in a whisper.

"Run," Sabo nodded seriously before they both turned to look at Yamato.

The teen simply sat there, turning his confused gaze between Ace, Sabo, and the direction from which Luffy's voice came a few seconds earlier. "What's going on?"

Ace and Sabo exchanged a glance once more, seemingly coming to a mutual understanding before Ace answered, "Go see for yourself. Luffy could probably use the help."

Immediately, Yamato was on his feet, heading outside to save his adorable baby brother from whatever monster he was facing. He was slightly suspicious of the high five Ace and Sabo had exchanged, not as sneakily as they probably thought, but as long as Luffy was in trouble, it didn't matter much to him.

As soon as he made it outside the little house, his eyes fell on the two figures fighting just a little bit away from the house. Obviously, one of them was Luffy, who was visibly fuming; growling and snapping his teeth like he was getting ready to literally bite the legs off of his target.

The target in question was a tall, although obviously much shorter than Yamato, and muscular old man clad in a bright red and white aloha shirt, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared Luffy down. He looked thoroughly unimpressed by Luffy’s pistol punches—which admittedly still left much to be desired despite Yamato’s efforts to help him out; it was only a question of time before he managed to find the right bang feeling. The man he was fighting looked vaguely familiar but Yamato couldn’t place that face no matter how much he wrecked his brain.

But it didn’t matter.

“Luffy, are you okay?!” Yamato called in alarm, rushing forward while preparing to swing his kanabo at the stranger.

The both of them turned to look at him then, identical angry expressions on their faces and suddenly, Yamato realized who the man reminded him of. It was more than obvious where Luffy got his personality and expressions. Maybe he should… not attack this person on sight?

Making the decision for him, Luffy huffed upon seeing him approach, raising his hand and making Yamato stop. “Stay back, I’m fine! I can kick gramps’ ass myself!”

“Who’s ass are you gonna kick?” the man snapped, his light punch making Luffy clutch at his head. “You can’t win against the fist of love, Luffy!”

Yamato blinked. That was obviously haki but… fist of love?  

Ignoring Luffy’s complaints, the man gave Yamato an obvious once over. “And who are you? Wait—” he paused, looking like he just remembered something— “you’re Yamao, aren’t you?”

“My name is Ya-ma-to, and I’m Luffy’s big brother,” Yamato replied, not entirely sure why he even bothered to correct anyone on his name at this point. No one ever listened.

“Part of the family already, hm? You have an impressive swing; you’ll make a fine marine.” The grandfather nodded, grinning at Yamato in approval.

Yamato did a double take. “I’m not going to be a marine!” he responded immediately, the horror he felt at the though clear in his voice.

“Exactly! We’re gonna be pirates!” Luffy joined in, fully recovered and launching a new rubbery pistol punch, which went completely ignored.

Gramps puffed up, raising his fist threateningly in front of himself. “Nonsense! All four of you will be the strongest marines the navy’s ever had if I have any say in it!”

“No way!” Luffy and Yamato cried in unison, the both of them jumping at the man in a joint attack.

A second later the both of them were rolling on the ground together, clutching at their heads and trying to recover from yet another fist of love. Seriously, Yamato only just met this guy, why was he getting a fist of love? Or better yet, why did it sound like he was already considered a grandson? He didn’t even know his new grandfather’s name.

He guessed it was simply one more proof of his relation to Luffy. It was exactly the same to when Luffy had decided by himself that Yamato was the big brother now, not even half an hour after meeting him, and just like back then, Yamato was powerless in defying that decision.

Not like he wanted to. He would be lying if he said being considered family so easily, so warmly, so unconditionally didn’t make him happy. But still…

“I’m already a pirate,” he growled. Not to mention marines did nothing but fight Oden and the Pirate King’s crew. Like hell was he becoming one of them.  

Gramps took a deep breath, looking like he was about to explode, but Yamato interrupted him. “The navy wouldn’t want someone with my blood anyway. They’d execute me on the spot,” he said flatly, looking the man straight in the eyes, trying to convey how disgusted by the institution, the world government, the current world he was. Like hell was he participating in that. He’d much rather wait patiently for the one who was going to change it all and support them.  

Neither of them said anything for a moment, neither of them faltering as they stared each other down silently. Until finally, gramps grinned, a smile so similar to Luffy’s that Yamato startled.

“If blood’s the problem, all the more reason you should join,” he announced, the smile never leaving his face even as his eyes turned almost sad.  

Yamato tilted his head to the side as he watched the man slowly look at Luffy before his eyes slid in the direction of the bandits’ house. When Yamato turned to look, he could see Ace turning around and walking away, Sabo quickly following with a worried expression on his face.

Well.

At least Yamato wasn’t the only one who obviously hated his biological family around here.

Deciding to leave Ace in Sabo’s hands, Yamato turned back to the problem at hand but before he could snap at the man, Luffy did so for him, “No. He’s joining my crew!”

“Over my dead body!” gramps roared in response, looking like he was going to go off on a rant.

Yamato, however, wasn’t about to sit around and listen to that. “No, over my dead body. Do you even hear how fucked up it is that you need to join the navy to be safe from getting hunted? Neither of us going there,” he growled, baring his teeth for good measure.

The old man paused, blinking at Yamato once, then twice, before he burst out in laughter, one so loud, so honest, and so contagious that, despite having no idea what was so funny, it made even Yamato want to laugh. All his anger was forgotten as his lips stretched in a grin, shaking his head at the sudden realization of how weird this entire situation was. He barely knew what was even happening but… it wasn’t like Yamato ever really paused to think about things. If it felt right, he’d go with it. If it didn’t, fuck it.  

And this, incredibly, felt right.

It was only a long while later that gramps finally caught his breath enough to speak, “I like you, kid. Are you sure you’re Kaido’s son?”

As if hit by the bull-gorilla’s Thunder Bagua, Yamato stopped laughing, only staring with an open mouth as dread ran through him. “How?” he could only say after a dreadfully long moment of heavy silence. Or maybe it was only a second. But it was too much, and made Yamato feel too on edge. Ready to fight. He didn’t want to even hear the bull-gorilla’s name; definitely didn’t want to hear it in relation to himself.

Gramps looked at him as if asking if he was kidding then, but with his only answer being a glare, he started laughing anew. “Kid, if you don’t want people to know, or the asshole finding you, maybe stop introducing yourself with ‘son of Kaido’ to anyone you meet. You have poor Makino quite worried.”

Oh.

Whoops?

“Yamao, you’re stupid,” Luffy laughed.

The teen huffed, shoving hard at Luffy’s shoulder. “You’re stupid,” he hissed back, making Luffy stick his tongue out at him.

Yamato saw it only fair he do the same in return.

Just then, a dark shadow loomed over the both of them and they slowly looked up, only to see gramps looking down at them with an evil grin on his face, slowly cracking his knuckles. “Whatever you say, I will train you stupid brats into proper marines, yet.”

Yamato finally understood why Ace and Sabo’s immediate reaction was to run, then send Yamato as what he could now only assume being a sacrifice. There was no way even Yamato was going to be a fair match for this man. “Oh fuck,” Yamato cursed, scrambling to his feet to follow Luffy, who who was already hafway down the clearing away after taking the first popped knuckle as his signal to bolt.

“Watch your fucking language in front of your baby brothers!” gramps shouted after him just before something that might have been a pine cone flew past him at an impossible speed.

Yamato and Luffy exchanged a glance, identical grins spreading in their lips before they both took a deep breath. “ACE! SABO! HELP!!”

If they were to die today, they’d make sure to take the other two down with them.

----------

Hours later, Yamato lay awake in his bed on the floor of the mountain bandits’ cabin long after his brothers started snoring softly. He was exhausted from the day spent laughing and running away from gramps—or Garp, as he had finally learned earlier that evening once Dadan finally stopped hiding from the man—but as opposed to the others, he didn’t want to sleep.

Not when gramps and Dadan were busy talking on the other side of this thin wall. What had started as the two of them sharing their frustrations and complaints about their kids quickly turned into fondness as they instead told each other stories about the brothers and their antics. Yamoto wasn’t surprised the bandit knew exactly where their secret base was, just as he wasn’t surprised by Garp only pulling out the most embarrassing stories he probably could.

It was a good thing the other three had managed to pass out the second their heads hit their pillows or they’d be trying to fight the old man all over again over it.

Yamato, on the other hand, refused to miss out on a second of this. The adults might not have allowed him to drink with them, claiming Yamato was too young for that—to which he not-so-politely disagreed, but then Garp’s fist disagreed with him—but they couldn’t stop him from listening. Those were his brothers they were talking about and he wanted to hear all about the past ten years of their lives that he had missed.

And if he maybe got a little bit happy every time they brought Yamato up, well… no one had to know that.

“Yamao, I swear if you don’t stop laughing at their shitty stories, I will strangle you with your own hair.”

[mythicamagic]

Enemies to Lovers - Sesshoumaru is injured - "Lean on me" prompt

AN: Because there’s a lot of prompts to get through I probably should have/could have spent more time on this one due to the heavy subject matter buuut since in the anime Sesshoumaru only gets 11 episodes to recover from the loss of his arm, I don’t feel too guilty XD

Warning: body trauma

---

Inuyasha's wench had found him around an hour ago. Unlike Rin, she'd deliberated approaching for a few moments. Unsurprising. They were still foes after all. Crimson eyes remained burning, glaring listlessly at her face.

She'd seemed to silently decide something, determination steeling her expression. The yellow nekomata he vaguely recalled belonging to the slayer was her sole companion, who growled at him warningly not to try anything. As if he would.

The miko carried a large cumbersome bag, so he assumed she'd been headed somewhere before running into him within the forest.

Kagome cleaned his wound as best she could, before binding it to try and stop the excessive blood loss. She'd then approached with the beast, proceeding to kneel beside his bloody form. Sesshoumaru remained where he was, reclined against a tree and settled at its base.

Kagome winced, arm secured around his waist after having removed his armour.

"I can't just leave you like this. Lean on me. I'll take your weight enough to move you onto Kirara."

Sesshoumaru turned his head, gazing at nothing.

His lips moved, speaking too softly for her to hear.

"What?"

He repeated himself in a tight voice. "What is the point?"

Kagome stiffened against him. Her heart thudded quicker, fear brushing his senses.

Sesshoumaru allowed his hazy red eyes to dull into empty gold, staring right at the woman.

He could survive a missing arm. Had adjusted his fighting style enough to manage.

But the Killing Perfection could not survive the loss of a leg too. His body would save him from blood loss, but his spirit lay broken, irreparable.

Kagome swallowed loudly, resting a hand on his upper thigh. His leg ended below the knee.

"T-this… it's nothing for you," she mumbled quietly. "You're going to be okay. You'll find a way to walk again."

Sesshoumaru chuckled dryly, resting his head back against the trunk. "Why do you care, wench?" he flashed sharp teeth at her. "We are not allies. Leave me."

"I won't," Kagome moved closer, grabbing a handful of his hankimono. "Listen, I might not be your friend and you've tried to kill Inuyasha more than a few times, but…" her hand shook. "But you're the strongest person I've met. If you fall, then what hope do the rest of us have?" she questioned softly. "Despite myself, I admire people like you and Kikyo. Always so crazy strong."

Sesshoumaru scoffed, gripping her hard by the hair and forcing her head down to look at the stump of his right leg. "Do I look strong to you, miko?" he hissed in her ear.

Kagome braced her hands on his available leg, twisting in his grip to look at him.

Sesshoumaru stilled.

Unshed tears lay in her eyes.

"Yes," she muttered with conviction. "So long as you don't give up now."

Sesshoumaru stared. Inky black hair slowly fell limp around his fingers. He settled back against the tree.

Kagome straightened, winding an arm around his waist again. "At least come with me to find shelter. You can't stay like this out in the open."

Sesshoumaru remained dead weight. He did not see the point in trying.

He could not hope to recover from this.

Kagome tugged and heaved at his body, his mass much too big for her to hope to move.

She sighed with frustration, blowing air at her bangs. "I'll tell Inuyasha about this," she grumbled.

Sesshoumaru blinked, sliding his gaze back to her. "I would kill you before you managed to leave."

Kagome smiled a little, patting his shoulder. "That's better. You look a bit more like yourself when you're threatening someone."

He wanted to snap at her. To snarl and bite the soft looking skin of her neck, frighten her enough to leave.

He was tired. A part of him felt content to die after his pride lay in such shattered tiny pieces.

And yet…

And yet a part of him, instinctive, strong and indomitable, refused to lay down and perish. It appreciated her continued efforts.

The thought of him hobbling about so pathetically was almost too much to bear, but Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, realising very wretchedly that this meant he did not in fact wish to die.

"We can do this," Kagome was muttering, trying to angle him enough to lay on Kirara, who pressed in close, offering assistance.

Sesshoumaru stifled a sigh, making a silent choice. He begrudgingly leaned against her, shifting his remaining leg beneath him.

Kagome gasped, "that's it!" she encouraged, helping him into a crouching position before he fell forward onto the beast. Kagome adjusted his leg, ensuring he was steady, before nodding for Kirara to stand.

Sesshoumaru did not pay attention to their surroundings, the forest passing in a blur.

If he'd just been quicker, the bull demon who had humiliated him would have perished sooner. The beast had produced a second weapon out of thin air, axe cleaving through muscle and bone. All he could do was pull back- lest he lose his entire lower half.

He felt no pain. Surprisingly, everything remained numb. His flesh was cold and clammy, and he lay as if outside of his own body.

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, lapsing into unconsciousness.

---

The scent of rain stirred his senses.

Sesshoumaru turned his head, finding himself laying down upon a strange futon that resembled a squashed cocoon. The nekomata lay behind him, keeping him warm.

Sesshoumaru blinked. The miko had found them shelter. He soon located her sitting at the mouth of the cave, looking out at the rain while a fire lay in the centre of the cool space.

When she noticed he’d regained consciousness, Kagome rose and offered some water from her strange water container.

She’d changed clothes, donning more unusual clothing Sesshoumaru was unfamiliar with. Her pants clung to her form distractingly.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, hovering close.

He tsked, passing back the water after taking a swig. “Like I have one leg and one arm. How do you think I am feeling, mortal?”

She winced, “shitty.”

“Indeed,” Sesshoumaru lay back down, staring at the cave ceiling soberly.

“Do you want something to eat?” a crunchy noise rustled from her pocket as the woman produced a rectangular bar of some kind.

He couldn’t keep the disgust out of his voice, eyeing a picture of the food on its strange packaging. “What is it?”

“A peanut butter and chocolate energy bar,” Kagome winced. “Look I don’t know how to hunt-” he scoffed, “-so this is the best I’ve got. Sorry, your Highness.”

Sesshoumaru sneered, “you may keep it. I do not eat human food. Least of all bizarre creations such as that.”

“Fine but it's your loss.”

His expression became blank, noticing her wince and start apologising for the wording. He wasn’t listening anymore though. The initial shock was beginning to wear off, and now he was more than painfully aware of the shooting pains running up and down the remainder of his leg, from stump to upper thigh. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, refusing to show his discomfort.

“...You’ve used a human arm before,” Kagome said carefully, sitting beside him and crossing her legs. “And what looked like a dragon one. By that logic, you could attach a demon leg to yours, right?”

Sesshoumaru slid his gaze to her, silently thankful for the distraction. The coming agony would be something he’d already dealt with due to the loss of his arm. Phantom limb pain was a real bitch.

“Yes,” he managed, before taking a steadying breath. He managed to arrange his features into something smirking and lofty. “Are you implying you will fetch me a new limb, little miko? How very generous.”

Kagome’s eyes turned flat. “I’m not about to go out and lop off some poor demon’s foot just to help you. But...if…” she said slowly, “if I’m attacked- which happens often because of the jewel shards- maybe I’d…”

Sesshoumaru dropped his smug expression, frowning softly.

The rain continued to pour, pelting the ground hard. It was a sobering reminder that if she’d left him to the mercy of the elements, he’d be in a much worse state.

He ran careful attention over her features. “Why?”

Kagome’s deep blue eyes held his probing stare, not a flicker of deceit in them. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly, “things can’t go back to normal for you right away- or at least, they shouldn’t. You should take the time to recover. I don’t know how the hell you managed to come after us so quickly after losing your arm. It likely wasn’t healthy for you.”

He arched a brow. Repressing every single fibre of the experience and any feelings about the fate that had befallen his left arm had worked wonders for his recovery. Granted it made sleep difficult at times, but none had ever had the audacity to lecture him about his decisions before.

“But- I also don’t want you to be vulnerable to attacks or starvation,” Kagome kept rambling. “Giving you a leg won’t solve everything but it’ll help- ah, are you burning up?” she noticed a bead of sweat roll down his temple, reaching out automatically.

Sesshoumaru snatched it mid-air, pushing up with a burst of speed and yanking Kagome down, simultaneously rolling atop her. Her back hit the ground, punctuated with a squeak from her startled lips.

Silver hair hung down, creating a curtain that blocked out the rest of the world. Those blue eyes widened, breath hitching. Their lower halves pressed intimately together, stomachs meeting as Sesshoumaru leaned closer, using his hand to brace his weight above her. A fire burned within the back of his throat, ancient, tattered pride stinging. He found that he resented her slightly. Resented her for seeing him so weak. It hadn’t mattered when Rin had found him wounded. A battered child had no relation to him. But this girl, Kagome- was an enemy. She should not have seen him thus.

“Do I seem so very vulnerable to you?” he asked in a hushed voice, mouth inches from hers. The fire crackled, rain pouring. Her breathing sounded a touch quicker, heartbeat loud in his ears. Drumming.

Against all logic, he felt her body relax beneath his. She even smiled a little, “no,” she muttered.

“Is something amusing?”

“I’m just glad you proved me wrong. I’d rather you kept acting like a jerk than look so...defeated like you did earlier,” Kagome gave a nervous giggle, gesturing between them, “uh...if you could let me up now though that would be great.”

She tried to rise, but he let more of his weight sink down upon her soft, warm body. “No, I do not think I will.”

Kagome gasped, drawing a knee up and inadvertently opening her legs, allowing him to fit snugly against her. If he hadn’t lost a limb several hours earlier that same day and wasn’t experiencing agonising, blinding pain, Sesshoumaru had to say, the feeling was enough to make him...consider something previously thought impossible between himself and humans.

As it was, he hissed a breath through grit teeth, the stump licking phantom flames of blazing fire around the wound.

“Sesshoumaru? Sesshoumaru!”

He shuddered, trying to prevent himself from crushing her beneath his weight, arm shaking.

It hurt. It suddenly hurt like hell- and nothing was working. No distraction could take him from the blistering, lonely, maddening sensation that holy fuck his leg was missing. He wanted to do something as meaningless as wriggle his toes and he could not-

Suddenly, her arms were around him. Pleasant fresh scents assaulted his fractured senses, citrusy and clean. Kagome pulled him down while rolling herself, flipping their positions.

“I don’t have anything for the pain,” her voice strained apologetically. She quickly moved off him, but Sesshoumaru wasn’t paying attention anymore. He panted, temples pounding. His body shook, pain shooting through the nerve endings in the remainder of his leg.

Something cold and wet lay over his marked forehead. Cracking the burning suns of pained golden eyes open, he watched Kagome adjust the cold compress, before checking his leg.

“You heal quick, but you need new bandages. M-maybe that’ll help until I can go home for painkillers,” she muttered, grabbing her bag and digging through it.

Sesshoumaru panted softly, seizing the fretting miko’s wrist.

“Your...scent,” he grunted.

“What?”

If he were sober he’d never request something so undignified, but Sesshoumaru kept talking, somewhat delirious now that all sense of shock had worn off. “Come here...again. I want your scent.”

Kagome’s shocked features were lost to him as the Daiyoukai hissed, squeezing his eyes shut.

The scent of citrus returned after a moment. Soft, curling locks of dark hair brushed his nose as Kagome gingerly embraced him.

Sesshoumaru wrapped an arm around her shoulders, burying his face into the black fall of citrus-scented strands. He lost himself to instinct, gripping onto the stable, pleasant sensations that took the form of Inuyasha’s wench. She let out a tense breath but soon relaxed against him, verbally assuring Kirara when the nekomata growled.

For the second time that day, Sesshoumaru unwillingly lost the battle for consciousness.

----

She was gone by the time he awoke in the morning, but the nekomata remained. She growled and hissed softly whenever he looked at the beast for longer than necessary. Kagome left a note, explaining that she’d be back soon.

Sesshoumaru had little to do except wait. The pain had become a continuous throb, which was easier to deal with but equally as irritating, exhausting him.

When Kagome returned several hours later, she produced wrapped pieces of cooked chicken from her bag, cheerfully explaining that she’d returned home. Sesshoumaru turned his nose up slightly at the food.

“I would have preferred the bird...raw.”

“Wait like freshly dead?”

“Alive, favourably.”

Kagome gaped, leaving the lunchbox with him. “That's terrible!”

Sesshoumaru stared at her flatly, opening his mouth and drawing out his tongue, transforming his features into something more monstrous and canine while placing the food into his mouth and eating it in one quick snap of his jaws. “Demon,” he muttered pointedly.

She rolled her eyes and let him finish his meal in peace.

---

They fell into an odd routine of planned visits for several days, talking about the strange things she brought back from home. He came to learn she was from the Future, of all places. They discussed its advanced technologies while she bandaged his leg.

He suspected the miko felt some sense of responsibility for him now. The thought set his teeth on edge, mildly humiliated.

When he brought up the subject of his vassal, ward and steed, Kagome shrugged and told him they’d been accepted into Inuyasha’s group for the time being. They worried about his continued absence and Inuyasha complained about having to share a space with Jaken, but bared with it. Not one person knew about his situation except Kagome, for which he was thankful.

By the end of five days though, Sesshoumaru needed to move. He began by pulling himself along the ground via his hand and knee, which proved awkward but not impossible. Next came standing, which- after many failed attempts- he finally managed to do, gripping onto the cave wall.

Walking was impossible, of course. And by the time Sesshoumaru realised the very sobering truth that he’d have to hop everywhere the rest of his life or walk with the use of a cane or crutch unless he could grab a demon leg- he wondered why he’d bothered moving at all.

“You’re standing!”

Dulled golden eyes slid to the miko, who stood at the mouth of the cave. In her arms was a large sack faintly marred with blood, and he could tell from the wrinkle of her nose exactly what it was. Surprise slammed into his gut.

“Miko-”

Kagome set the bundle down, hurrying over and steadying him when he tipped too much to one side. “Are you alright? You should be resting-”

“Give me the leg, miko.”

Kagome fell silent, eyeing his stump. He’d stopped needing bandages two days ago. She didn’t protest, merely looking at him carefully. “Are you sure?”

Sesshoumaru leaned against her, allowing her to help ease him down into a sitting position. He briefly touched her cheek, gliding a thumb there and watching it redden. His heart thudded with gladness. “I am sure.”

She nodded, soon bringing the bloodied sack over. She explained that he’d gotten lucky, as while the first two demons they’d faced in a group of three had been too large and bulky to fit his build, the third had been smaller. Inuyasha had been extremely disturbed and suspicious when she’d asked him to hack their leg off once all three were dead.

“It’s not been easy, avoiding his questions, you know. He’s tried to follow me here more than once. I managed to convince him that this leg was for my weird Grandpa.”

Sesshoumaru blinked, finding himself watching her instead of studying the leg as it was revealed to him. The miko had been astronomically helpful and considerate in all the ways one could to a demon lord. His chest felt strange. Warm, upon realising the extent of her actions for his sake.

“Well, do you like it?”

Sesshoumaru jolted, focusing on the red-scaled leg laying before him. From its scent, he knew it to be from a lizard demon. Not his first choice, but this was no time to be picky. Sesshoumaru grabbed it and pressed the severed end to his stump after aligning it. He didn’t so much as flinch as muscle and bone wove together, the process over in seconds. Kagome gaped with amazement.

When he moved to stand, she quickly assisted, pulling him to his feet. Sesshoumaru took a step and staggered, looking downwards.

Ah.

Kagome’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh. Oh no...it's too short isn’t it?”

The height was off by a few inches.

He made to reply- before stiffening, scenting salt. “Why are you crying about it, foolish woman?”

“I-I’m sorry,” she waved it off, some tears escaping down her cheeks before she roughly brushed them away. “I just wanted it to be perfect but now you’re kind of...tilted.”

Despite the situation, a smile tugged at his mouth. A noise bubbled up from the back of his throat, escaping as a quiet laugh.

Kagome froze, tears clinging to her lashes.

“It is fine, miko. More than...fine.”

Sesshoumaru held onto the wall for support, feeling the bite of putting weight onto the leg, his stump flaring. It would take time for his body to adjust. Despite this, his warrior heart filled with purpose again, powers working to heal him. Just having the ability to walk after having it stolen away renewed his spirits.

Kagome watched him with a smile, occasionally offering aid but largely keeping her hands off. He could sense various soft emotions rolling off her in waves. Admiration, relief and something else. Something he could not name. It remained untouched and unnamed long after he left the cave behind one afternoon.

He had no writing utensils to leave a note, instead carefully tearing out a segment of his sleeve, leaving the red and white flower symbol of his family crest for her to find.

---

Kagome panted hard, catching her breath and folding down into a crouch, gripping her bow tight.

“Are you alright, Kagome?” Rin asked, closely followed by Shippo as they approached from Ah-Un, having kept away from the random attack on the village. Thankfully the hoard of boar demons had finally been dealt with, but Kagome’s nerves were shot to hell after racing around so much, trying to protect villagers.

“I-I’m fine, guys, thanks,” she smiled, looking between them both. The orphans had bonded quickly, and she felt a surge of warmth, happy they had a companion their age to talk with. It had been two weeks since she’d last seen Sesshoumaru since his disappearance, and while she loved having Rin around, it did make her worry. Sesshoumaru always returned to his group. Where had he run off too?

Maybe he went to find a better leg, she thought, taking the children’s hands and walking towards Miroku- who was helping up an old man from where he’d fallen. Perhaps he needed time to get used to walking on what’s essentially a prosthetic.

For humans- such a thing took up to one year. Demons really are something else.

Kagome’s lips curved, picturing the burning, determined gaze of the Daiyoukai.

Or rather, Sesshoumaru is something else.

“Kagome, look out!” Miroku yelled.

Jerking, Kagome sensed a lone boar youkai barrelling towards her through the forest, knocking trees aside. It was quicker than anticipated- and despite Kagome grabbing the children and trying to run out of its way, it charged straight for her, grunting, throwing its head wildly.

People were screaming her name, but they were too far away. Kagome twisted her body, pushing the kids aside and in order for her to take the brunt of the hit-

Red light exploded to life, consuming the boar demon before it could reach them. Hide and blood were caught up in the attack, leaving Kagome mercifully free from the boar's flying carnage.

She panted, shaking a little and gazing at the steaming remains of the demon. A pale figure floated to the ground, landing elegantly.

“Lord Sesshoumaru!” Rin cried happily.

“Lord Sesshoumaru?!” Jaken’s distant yell could be heard.

Kagome straightened, heart doing a funny thing in her chest. She immediately looked at his leg- finding him clad in white hakama pants and black boots. The same as always.

Blue eyes widened. He appeared completely unchanged. Somehow, he must’ve found an inhuman demon and took their leg so that he could masquerade as his usual self.

His tiny group circled around him joyously, while Kagome’s friends gathered together a little ways away. Inuyasha’s ears pinned back to his head with displeasure.

Jaken hopped up and down. “Where have you BEEN, mi lord!”

“Nowhere."

“Tch, bastard,” grumbling, Inuyasha raised his voice a touch. “Hey- you could at least thank us for babysitting your damn group while you were probably out doing power-hungry shit.”

Sesshoumaru’s gaze slid over the Hanyou dismissively, stopping on Kagome. Her breathing hitched.

“I am not here to thank you, Inuyasha.”

Kagome remained frozen as a shadow fell over her face, his head of silver hair blocking out the sun. Golden eyes replaced the burning circle in the sky, blazing and intent. Slit pupils pinned her in place.

She was vaguely aware of her friends exclaiming in surprise and alarm, thinking he meant to harm her. The sound of Inuyasha drawing his sword was enough to make her mutter ‘sit boy’ absentmindedly, paying no attention to his subsequent impact with the ground.

Sesshoumaru raised a hand, resting pale knuckles against her cheek in a slow drag down to her jaw, skin cool, clashing against her warmth. White lashes lowered, becoming half-mast.

“You’re okay?” she breathed.

“Hn, I merely needed some time,” Sesshoumaru’s low rumble melted her insides.

She cleared her throat, cheeks tinging red because of his proximity, his dark youki brushing her senses, his touch- his everything. Reaching into her pocket, she produced the segment of his clothing, the pattern of his clan. “Did you want this back-?”

“Keep it,” he closed her fingers over it, catching her eye. “You have my loyalty for what you have done for this one, miko. Keep it,” he said softer.

Kagome nodded slowly, opening her mouth to ask more-

Firm lips slanted over her own. Stiffening, she became deaf to her friend’s even louder exclamations of surprise, Miroku quietly voicing his awe, impressed.

The miko inhaled sharply through her nose, feeling Sesshoumaru’s mouth move, brushing against her own in several lingering kisses. Blushing, it took a moment for Kagome to get over her stupefaction. But then she pressed a little closer, kissing him back perhaps a little nonsensically. But it felt right. Her toes curled at the feel of him.

A low groan rumbled in his throat and his lips softened against hers, mouth parting to brush his sinuous tongue against hers.

Kagome shivered and wondered if he could hear how her heart hammered in her chest. His palm felt steady upon her back, arm encircling her waist. When they finally pulled away, their lips lingered close.

“What...what was that?” she breathed, cheeks flushed.

Sesshoumaru’s lips quirked, “that was this Sesshoumaru conveying my deep sense of gratitude, miko.”

“Funny way of thanking someone, but I’ll take it,” Kagome’s eyes glittered. She could think about the consequences of such an action later. For now, she was content to hold his gaze and keep his secret safe- for however long the prideful Daiyoukai needed.

[softomi]

The Alternatives

prompts: When we feel like we aren’t in control, we’ll reorganize ourselves; we’ll think of other solutions; but in the end, we’ll always find ourselves where we began. 

My dream may not have begun with you, but it sure as hell will end with you.

pairing: oikawa x reader

Your keys twirled on your finger, they jingled against each other as you entered the gym. The ball smacks against the floor during the two men’s argument. The quarrel created tension in the bare gym, the two boys at each other’s necks.

“Will it be worth it?!” Iwaizumi was gripping Oikawa by the material of his shirt, “When you finally injure yourself enough to be forced to quit, will you finally be satisfied?”

“Maybe!” Oikawa pushed his arm away, hands reaching down to grab one of the fallen volleyballs. The ball in his hand slips from his grip when he spots you through the net. He attempts to cool the high rising of his chest, “Y/n.” He whispers your name.

“Tooru.” You wave at him.

Oikawa’s head tilts at the way Iwaizumi knocks him with his fist, “Stupid.” Iwaizumi states as he leaves to gather his things.

You sit on the bench, legs swaying, you bid farewell to Iwaizumi as he leaves. The male simply pats your head, a habit he developed from when you were the small freshman in high school. You hear him faintly whisper under his breath, asking you to tame the beast on the court.

Oikawa’s eyes linger on the way Iwaizumi touches your hair, waiting for him to leave the gym before he walks to you. You flash him a smile, one he hopes you only give him, as he approaches you. His shoulders slump when he takes a seat next to you, eyes glued to the volleyball he’s placed between his feet.

“Are you here to yell at me too?” His voice is soft compared to the roar he gave his friend.

You sway slightly, just enough for your shoulders to bounce off of his, your lips hum, “No.” You see the way his lips pout but yet his eyes are shaking, “I can already tell you’re doing it to yourself.”

That’s what he liked about you, no; it was what he loved about you. You were like water, fizzling the flame coursing his veins, providing life to his wounds.

“Do you think I should quit volleyball?”

Your swaying ceased, you noticed the way his eyes were no longer shaking, they were still as they stared deep into the ball. He was serious, just like he always was when this thought passed his mind; for someone who breathed for the sport, some days he gets the wind knocked out of him.

“Okay.” The way his eyes shot to look at you, it almost made you jolt, “Well.” You say, “What’s plan B then?” You bring your gaze to stare at the net, “Let’s strategize. Plan A is professional volleyball, what’s plan B?”

He takes the ball into his hands, “Plan B.” The words roll off his tongue, “I could teach volleyball.”

Your lips pull into a grin. Of course. You think, “Okay. Plan C?”

“Definitely a model.”

Your head nods, “Definitely. Plan D?”

Oikawa purses his lips, “Oh! I could be a referee for volleyball games.”

“I feel like you would be very biased.” You counter.

He lets out a flabbergasted gasp, “I would never.”

“Says the person who refereed a checkers game between me and Iwaizumi. You definitely saw me cheat.”

The ball is abandoned on the ground as Oikawa turns to you, “I saw nothing. You won fair and square.”

You cackle at his comment, “Okay. Then, plan E?”

You waited as he stared at you. He gave you one of those looks, one that you just couldn’t entirely pinpoint where his thoughts were leading him. Most times you could read him like the back of your hand, but then he gives you this look; as if those other times he was letting you read him.

“I marry you.” You froze yet he was so nonchalant, “Then we get a big house and have lots and lots of kids. Enough to make a volleyball team.” A smile graces your lips, you let him ramble. He names your children, plans where they’d go to school, plans the ages of each child, “And then when our last child gets married and moves out of the house, we’ll move to the country side where I’ll teach the neighborhood kids how to play the greatest sport ever, volleyball.”

The excitement in his voice dwindles, his eyes staring at the net. You perk your head to him, viewing his still expression; the longingness in his eyes, “Plan A sounds like the most pleasing doesn’t it.”

Oikawa meets your gaze, “It’s my dream.” His voice falls to a whisper, “I worked so hard to get here, I can’t just stop.”

“I know.” Your voice is flat, “I’m so proud of you, how far you’ve come, everything you’ve achieved.” Your shoulders brush against his, your head falling onto his shoulder, “You worked so hard.”

Oikawa was someone you wondered would he ever be satisfied. When he tasted victory, would it fulfill him or would it make him hungrier? Even on days when he was designated as being off from volleyball, his mind still raced to get ahead; it was what you loved about him. Every second he grew passionate and failure made him starved.

“Shall we go home?” He asks after moments of silence, “Tomorrow’s Monday.”

You ponder his statement for a minute, “I don’t think it would be fair to leave without showing me some of what you were practicing.”

The way his lips contort into a grin, he turns to you, placing a kiss onto the top of your head, “Since you asked.”

He’s eager to grasp the ball, back facing you as he runs to the court. You automatically pull out your phone, opening the camera app to switch to video mode. You stand to your feet, making your way to the opposite side of the net.

“If it looks like it’s coming too close.” He calls out.

“I know I know.” You wave him off, “Duck, run, just basically get out of the way.” You pull the phone down to look at him, “You act like I haven’t gotten hit by one of your serves before.”

“You act like it didn’t give you a concussion.” Oikawa sticks out a tongue to you.

“Yeah well,” You stomp, “Just go.”

It falls silent. His footsteps are ghostly mute, the ball is tossed in the air, he jumps; his palm slapping against the ball. It lands strikingly in front of you, just centimeters in front of your position before bouncing off the floor and over to the side. A chill danced on your spine and you couldn’t help the astonished gasp coming from your mouth.

“Was it too close?” Oikawa moves closer to the net, a slight jog in his step.

“No.” You choke out, “it was perfect. Let’s get a few more.”

His second serve was just as perfect, it landed slightly closer but enough for it to not hit you. As he jumped in the air for a third time, your eyes remained locked on the ball; unconsciously you moved forward a centimeter, you could hear your name come from his mouth as the ball knocked against your shoulder; you fell back, your cell flew from your hands and instinctively you held your pained shoulder.

“Hey.” Oikawa was in your line of vision but his expression blurred in and out. The pain was almost unbearable, “Just wait a second okay.”

You were shouting obscenities, it helped to dull the pain. Perhaps if you were a volleyball player, you’d be able to bounce back from this quicker, but being an average fan who loved to watch instead of play; the pain was much worse than it ever looks on professional players.

Oikawa was pressing a cold pack onto your shoulder. You were finally able to sit up, your shoulder completely sore and numb from the cold. After a few minutes, Oikawa insisted on seeing your shoulder. His looks softened into concern when you lifted your shirt to expose the patch of skin. He tried not to apply pressure as he grazed the portion of skin already starting to purple from the deep impact. He can only image how much darker it would turn out the next day.

“I told you if it got too close.”

“I know.” You state.

“No.” Oikawa’s eyes are sharp, holding back the shakiness that he feels, “What if something happened? It could have hit you right in the face, you’d have another concussion. Tomorrow we’re taking you to the doctor.”

“Tooru, I’m fine.” You try to play it off by moving his hand but his fingers graze against the forming bruise with pressure and you wince.

He helps you stand up, a frown on his lips, “We’re going, who knows, I probably took out your shoulder. Gosh, your mom is going to kill me. She already hates me because I gave you a concussion.”

“If you keep bringing it up, of course she’s going to hate you.” His hand holds yours, his eyes staring at your throbbing shoulder. Your hand brushes against his cheek, “I’m fine.” You attempt to reassure him.

He lowers himself, pulling the neck of your shirt to reveal the spot of skin. He presses a kiss onto the tender spot, a kiss on your neck, a peck on your chin, lips on your cheek, and he draws a breath from your lips.

The flush of your cheeks distracts you from the pain. Your hand instinctively lifts to pull him down for another kiss, but a hiss escapes your mouth as you forget about your shoulder. Oikawa is practically grinning with glee.

“Was my kiss just that good, you need more?” Oikawa leans down, a cocky grin on his lips.

“Never mind.” You push away his puckering lips, walking to your things sitting on the bench.

“Aw, wait for me.”

You sit idly, watching him clean up his mess of volleyballs. You throw instructions at him periodically and he gladly tries to comply. He’s adamant on carrying your bag for you, leaving you to intertwine your fingers with his as you two exit the gym.

“Can we not tell your mom I ruined your shoulder.”

You laugh, “Okay, we’ll just tell her Iwaizumi did it. She’d never get mad at him. She still thinks I could have a shot at marrying him.”

He lets out an audible gasp, “Don’t even joke about that.” Oikawa twirls a strand of your hair when you two stop at the front doors, “If you do, I’ll just skip to plan F.”

“Plan F?”

Oikawa uses his fingers to aim at you, his tongue pokes out teasingly, he lets out a pop from his lips, “Shot-gun wedding.”

“That’s it, I’m leaving you for Hajime.”

[sokkabaddiebender2021]

Now that I think about it, there isn’t a character (within the recurring cast) in avatar the last airbender that I don’t like find intriguing. I think it’s because they all have very different characteristics and history unique to their character, so we can form a separate connection to each character, whether that connection is a bad or good one.

Not only that, but both the protagonists and the antagonists are written to be very relatable and likeable people.

Aang is a pacifist monk who is a survivor of genocide. He has to somehow balance the weight of the world on his shoulders and letting himself be a kid. Everyone who watches atla knows who Aang is: he’s kind and fun, yet sensitive and forgiving. He can’t be impatient or even rude at times, but this helps to remind the audience that Aang is still just a 12 year old boy.

Like Aang, Zuko has his own history and things that make him notable as a character. For one, he’s a survivor of child abuse (something too many people can relate to), and he also has a very distinct scar on his face, a burn, as a symbol of this abuse. When you finish the show, you know exactly what to say about him: he’s impulsive, impatient, but underneath it all, he’s just a kid trying to find his way, and accept who he is and what he wants, even when everything and everyone pushes against him (andyeshewasandismycomfortcharacterok).

Katara is the motherly character. She wants to take care of others because she felt she needed to do so after she lost her mother. That struggle is completely unique to her, and how it affects who she is as a character: she’s loving, and very protective of those she cares about. What I love is her duality, and how she can be both a calming ocean or the crashing waves in a storm. But boy, don’t mess with her (come on, we all know Katara would kick our ass). Also she defeated the patriarchy so how can you not love her??

Sokka can easily be seen as the comedic relief, but man’s really is one of the smartest dudes in the show. We as an audience relate to him because, well, he can’t bend just like we can’t. He struggles to keep up, but makes up for it with his brains and creativity (not to mention he’s funny as hell).

For one, Toph is blind. The show doesn’t let you forget that, but they also connect it to her character in a way that isn’t just about how she struggles with her disability, but rather how she uses it. She’s the best earthbender in history because of how sensitive and precise her sense is, which is an example of her using her blindness to her advantage. She’s tough as nails and isn’t necessarily kind even to the people she loves, but like she said, that’s how she shows affection.

Honestly we don’t get a whole lot of Suki so she isn’t as defined as a character as the rest of the gaang. But who tf cares she’s a queen (who can literally scale walls like a cat), and she’s not just Sokka’s non-bending love interest, she’s a goddamn force of nature and that’s why we all love her (note: SHE ALSO DEFEATED THE PATRIACHY).

It’s easy to say that Iroh’s just a peace loving tea drinking kind old man. But the thing that makes him interesting is that he’s not just that: he’s done some not great thing in the past (well that’s an understatement). But he’s wise and loveable because he learned from his past, and uses that to help Zuko find his own way (id also like to note I only ever cried in 3 scenes of the show, 2 of which included Iroh).

Azula is arguably one of if not the most complex character in the show. She’s an absolute tactical beast and terrifinginly good at fighting (ngl Azula scared the SHIT outta me). However, underneath it all, she’s a severely unstable and ill girl, who I would say honestly needs therapy and a good psychiatrist (no I’m not talking about a redemption arc).

Oksoimayormaynotbeahugemaisimp but she’s a cool ass knife girl who honestly seems cold at first, but then you realize that she’s just been forced to put up her walls her whole life, which I think a lot of people (myself included) can relate to. Also ma’am was somehow rocking bangs so that automatically makes her a 100/10 character.

I think honestly no one in the fandom gives Ty Lee the attention she deserves (which is ironic because that’s how it was in the show as well). But SIS COULD TURN OFF BENDING!! And was actually super spiritual and observant, but also still had a very upbeat and pink attitude. I call that queen shit honestly.

My point is is that each character is so notable in how different they each are. They’re incredibly diverse in both their designs and personalities. Where Aang is kind, Zuko is harsh. Where Katara is motherly, Toph is rough. Where Sokka is clever, Suki is fierce. Where Iroh is wise, Azula is tactical. Where Mai is subtle, Ty Lee is colorful.

These differences make the characters feel so rich and real. They make you root for them, or feel for them in some way. They intrigue you and teach you in ways you could never expect. Their stories are tragic and triumphant and unexpected and beautiful, and I think that is what makes avatar the last airbender such a wonderful show.

[contradictions-of-iron-and-lace]

So on my old blog, I would occasionally give my unsolicited thoughts and opinions on shows or movies (usually ones that either had a lot of hype or were just straight up bad). I just watched "365 Dni" aka "365 Days" because I had a couple hours to kill so be prepared for mental spewage because it's my blog and I do what I want.

Wait I thought this was a romantic thriller. They're talking about human trafficking. This is already gross.

Michele Morrone is very good looking though and I've been obsessed with his face for the last few weeks.

This whole conversation about these girls getting trafficked is gross.

Yes. Let's be extra pervy during a pervy business meeting and check out the girl on the beach with our binoculars.

Hold up. Why did they get shot?

I don't know what's going on. Freaking Italian mob, man.

This song about being addicted to someone that's playing while people are bleeding out on the ground seems tonally inappropriate.

So far we've seen Italy, San Francisco, and Warsaw. I didn't know we were globetrotting.

And we switched from Italian to Polish to English. Sure.

Yeah. Michele Morrone could get it. Also he survived being shot.

Is that the same girl from the beach? Probably. Why not.

They do a lot of spinning shots and it's making me dizzy.

So far this is a very expensive foreign Lifetime movie.

Yes. Because everyone takes boob shots in the back of their Uber while sober.

Homegirl's boyfriend looks like they picked him out of a burly henchman catalogue.

Yup. Michele Morrone is stupid hot. Even just sitting down he's hot.

Oh good. We've transitioned from potential human trafficking to cocaine.

Well damn. This is fairly explicit for a "mainstream" film.

Cool. I share a name with the female lead.

Still don't know the male lead's name yet.

Everybody in this movie is either stupid hot or stupid ugly. There is no middle ground.

Yes, Michele. Creeping up on this girl on a darkly lit path saying "Are you lost, little girl?" is definitely going to win you all the points.

I don't understand why writers insist on putting powerful women with schlubby dudes. It's tired and cliched and inevitably leads to annoying arguments.

Yes. Let's wander around Sicily at night all alone. That's totally safe.

And my point is proven.

I hope if I ever get kidnapped and holed up in some random ass castle in Sicily my makeup looks as good as Laura's.

So this just turned into a horror movie.

Called it about Laura being the girl on the beach.

Yeah, that's not creepy at all, dude. Let's obsess over a girl we might have hallucinated for five years and then kidnap her and give her a year to fall in love with you. Solid plan.

This is literally making my skin crawl.

Ah yes. "I won't do anything without your permission" he says as he literally grabs and sexually assaults her.

So basically this is trying to be "erotic thriller, Beauty and the Beast style".

Her pulling a gun on him has been the best thing so far.

I'm so confuuuuuused.

That's nothing new though. I live in a state of perpetual confusion.

Why the hell is there a man chained to a rock in this dude's basement.

I have many concerns.

Also his name is Massimo so that's good to know.

Besides the man chained in his basement his house is pretty cool.

Just kidding the man is no longer chained in the basement since he now has a bullet in his head.

I'm only 30 minutes in and this has been a wild ride.

"I'm not a bag of potatoes you can move without my permission!" is very Polish and as somebody who's family is Polish I'm living for it.

I'm going to need him to stop laying hands on her.

Whoever chose the music made some odd choices.

He keeps watching her sleep and it's creepy.

And there he goes grabbing her again.

I do like that she's giving him a lot of attitude and isn't putting up with his shit but you know that's going to change 🙄

Yes. Go spend all his money, honey.

He is disrespectful as hell.

I don't care how hot he is, he's creepy and abusive and I don't like it.

"I am not the monster you think I am." You would be incorrect, my dude.

Like, she went on vacation with her boyfriend and friends, and I can't for the life of me figure out why they aren't looking for her unless they explained it and I missed it.

Pierogi. The most romantic of Polish foods.

"I do business." He's a drug trafficker, honey. Run away. Run far, far away.

Honestly I would turn this off if I wasn't so far in it already.

I feel like I have to see this trainwreck through to the end.

"I would like you to show me how to be gentle for you" would be more appealing if HE LITERALLY HAD NOT KIDNAPPED, ABUSED, AND ASSAULTED HER.

Ew. Did he sneak in her bed while she slept?

One good dinner and now she's all "let's gently touch him in bed and take a shower in front of him" 🙄

Why is this bathroom set up like a communal shower? It's weird.

Although to be fair if he hopped in the shower with me I'd check him out too 🤷

They tied her to the seat in the plane. What the hell.

I'm so uncomfortable.

Ugh. Why. Why is this a thing.

So far this has been creepier than 50 Shades and 50 Shades is creepy as hell.

Hold on. I thought they were at a hotel. Why does he have a giant ass portrait of himself hanging up in his room?

I. Am. Uncomfortable.

Oh man. He has a nice butt.

Don't get distracted by the pretty man, Laura.

Onscreen Laura too.

He asked her to teach him how to be gentle, then handcuffs her to the bed and makes her watch while he hooks up with another woman.

Yup. Doing a great job there, Massimo.

Cool I'm back to being confused.

She can't walk in her heels and I'm dying laughing. Same, girl, same.

"What are you wearing?" "A couple thousand euro of yours." GET HIM.

Now we've entered the Scarface phase of the movie because there was just a copious amount of cocaine snorted.

Where did he pull two guns from??

So I don't know how long she's been with him at this point. I feel like that's something that needs to be clarified.

And she fell off the boat.

Of course she did.

Oh man. Why's he gotta be so cute with his fluffy curls and stubble and tattoos?

Also I'm pretty sure he only owns like two shirts because he's walked around shirtless for most of this movie.

We are now in the part of the movie where we've screamed awful things at each other and now we're going to bone it out.

All over the boat. Like every surface of the boat they have now banged on.

If y'all were dissatisfied with the raunchiness of the 50 Shades series, this is the movie for you because it far surpasses that.

Of course they're going to a ball. They always do in these rich people movies.

Makeover montage because why not.

Oh no. He's hot in a tux.

It always cracks me up in movies when people just automatically know how to ballroom dance like professionals without any training.

Every time I think this movie can't get more cliched, it does.

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I subject myself to bad movies?

I take it back. I know why I did it this time. The reason is 6'2" and looks damn good in a button up shirt.

"I thought you were kidnapped!" She was. You were a good friend for thinking that.

The switching between languages is giving me whiplash. It's very jarring going from Italian to Polish to English to Polish to Italian.

Her friend seeing through her bullshit is giving me life.

Also loving the fact that she's acknowledging she has Stockholm Syndrome. But because it's a movie it won't change anything.

Another makeover montage? So soon?

Also her friend keeps calling Massimo Mozzarella and it's hilarious.

That wig looks like it's about to crawl off her head.

Of course the ex shows up.

Honestly just knee him in the nuts and be done with it.

Why does Massimo think it's okay to break into her apartment and wait in the dark for her?

I don't know who thought using a blue light for her apartment was a good idea but it just looks like they're in a giant tanning booth.

"I don't need 365 days... Because I love you." GIRL NO.

I mean it was inevitable but it's still gross.

Yup. That's normal. Let's marry our kidnapper.

I want to snatch that wig off her head.

"What are your intentions with our daughter?" You don't want to know what his intentions are with your daughter, sir.

I will say that I love all her clothes in this movie.

Also she's pregnant. Calling it right now.

Called it.

Also good to know they've only known each other two months and they're going to get married and have a baby 👀

Her best friend is my favorite character and is the only likeable person in this whole movie.

Plot twist. Shocker.

This is so dramatic.

I will give them credit for the ending because that was unexpected.

In summary, this movie is trash and while the "love" scenes are pretty hot, it's not worth the time or effort that I clearly put into this.

[cherry-bomb-ships]

I rlly want to know how you did you're header cuz holy fuck it looks so cool!!!

OK OMG SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO ANSWER THIS BUT. First of all, thank you so much 🥺💖💖 Second, I'm more than willing to answer so I can brag about my header cuz I worked SUPER hard on it and would love to share my work process 💖💖💖 This is gonna be a liiitle complex, so here's the TLDR version of my process with a full explanation under the cut (plus some other fun info under the cut!)

I made the colored overlay in my art program of choice (Illustrator) and made the colors partially transparent, while keeping the black lines 100% opaque to have solid separations between each clip. I also figured in advance that I'd fit 5 boxes in the frame at a time so I sized them appropriately

I used my video editing software of choice (Sony Movie Studio) to place each clip in and manually crop and pan all 13 of my selected video segments to make sure they fit in their respective boxes. This was the biggest chunk of the work tbh :0

My original plan was to export the clip as frames and place them into a gifmaker, but this thing was such a beast at 15 seconds and 449 frames that it exceeded the frame limit of any gifmaking site, so instead I exported the clip as a video and used an MP4 to GIF converter.

The final file came out to 34 MB (which is HUGE for a gif) so to get it under Tumblr's 10MB gif limit, I had to compress and optimize the hell out of it by shrinking it, cutting the colors down and adding lossiness, and the final file in my header right now is a bit under 9MB

There we go, that was a condensed version of my whole process!! But under the cut I've got some screenshots of the editing process if you're interested :3c. Give it a look, I worked super hard on it!

Here's the original file of the colored overlay! The canvas dimension started at what I knew would be the width of my GIF, so I started at 720px and measured 5 boxes within the space. Afterwards, I copied and pasted the boxes until I had 18 total, and I resized the canvas to fit the entire thing accordingly. See how the five boxes on the end are the same colors as the five at the beginning? That's where the GIF loops in the final product!

And here we have the video file I used to create the GIF! Fun fact, I actually intended there to be a text overlay of my url, but I decided to remove it at the last second. In my opinion, the finished piece looks much better without text uwu But you can still see the layer up top that had the text in it!

It's really hard to describe how much work this actually was unless you're familiar with video editing software, but basically everything you see that moves in the final gif, well, there's no automatic process to make it move in that way. To put it simply, the easiest way I could do it was to tell the editing program to move the clip from point A to point B, but those two points had to chosen manually. This was much easier on clips of my f/os who stayed in one spot, like Tom, Massimo and Robotnik's clips, but there were clips where my fave moved around so that they wouldn't still be inside the box if I only gave the clip the "point A, point B" command. That means that there had to be multiple other movement points in between, and some up these clips move a LOT so they ended up having to go from point A to, like, point H. (Discord's is actually kinda messy in my opinion, as I was trying to keep his head in frame even when he threw it back to laugh, so you'll understand what I mean if you go back to that one in particular.)

But I also had to make sure that the clips didn't overlap each other, so for every single clip I had to crop them using a cookie cutter video effect, which I also had to, you guessed it, give a point A and point B to move across. Also, you may notice the top five clips that I had to cut to go at the end and beginning of the GIF so that it looped properly, and for all of those clips, I had to make sure the end and beginning had the exact same frame, and I had to copy-paste the position coordinates as well to make sure that the loop was nearly seamless. In the final product you can notice a slight stutter where the gif loops, but in my opinion it worked out much better than I thought it would!

Okay that's pretty much it for the technical stuff but lastly, I wanted to show off the notes I was doing on my little desk notepad to keep track of stuff during this whole project. Fun fact I started this project a little bit before I added Massimo as an f/o, which is why his name is kinda reluctantly squeezed in on both pages. On the left you can see my process for deciding the colored box I'd assign to each f/o; my starting number was 12 faves so I tried to do 2 shades of each other the rainbow's colors. You may also notice that Hopper's color ended up being Massimo's, and I changed Hopper's to more of a forest green!

On the right I had the order the clips were going in, as well as some various coordinate notes to help me remember where to place a few clips. You can also see I wrote down the conversion site I used to turn clips I found into MP4s, cuz sadly youtube to MP4 sites are becoming an endangered species ;-;

Aaaand that's about everything I can think of! I'm very happy with the final product and I'm very glad that a lot of people seem to think it's cool! 💝💝💝

[thiswasinevitableid]

5, sternclay, nsfw? 👀

Here you go

5: Incubus

“Buddy, I promise, you can come in and cuddle in like, ten minutes.” 

The whining at the bedroom door stops, replaced by a big, wet nose, just visible through the crack at the bottom of the door as it snuffles back and forth. It’s very cute, but Barclay is not about to let his dog deprive him of a much needed jerk-off session.

He’s ready for bed, so it’s just a matter of pulling down his pajama pants and getting to it. Closing his eyes, he pictures that cute customer who gets black coffee and a croissant every morning at the Lodge. It takes a few tries to find a fantasy he likes, the one about the back counter and the new uses for a spatula.

Outside the door, Sass starts whining again, scratching frantically at the wood. There goes his deposit. 

God, he can practically feel the guy up against him.

The bed dips on the outside of each thigh. Opening his eyes reveals a man wearing nothing but deep blue boxer briefs and a smile. 

“Holyshitwhatthefuck?” He clambers back, banging his head on the wall in his hurry to sit up, “what the fuck man, how’d you get in here?”

“A portal between dimensions.  That’s the, um, simplified version. But don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. The opposite really. I’m an incubus.”

“Why the fuck is a fucking sex demon in my bedroom?” Barclay yanks his pants up. The incubus looks sad at this development. 

“I feed on sexual energy, and to do that I follow trails of that same energy to their source. You have a lot of it.”

“Yeah, year-long dry spell’ll do that.”

“Consider it broken.” The demon leans forward only for Barclay to hold up a hand.

“Nope. This is not how I want to break it. Sorry.”

“Is it my appearance? I can look like anyone--or anything--you want.” His features morph, eyes going from brown to blue to green, hair from honey-blond to fire red, “if you’re shy, my powers let me see into your deepest fantasies and make them come true.”

“No that’s not the problem, I wanna fuck someone I have some kinda connection to, not some guy who dropped into my bedroom. And would you please knock it off with that face-changing? I’m not gonna fuck you, so you can just look like yourself.”

The incubus starts, surprised by his sharp refusal, features landing on short, black hair, blue eyes, and a face that’d make a movie-star insecure. 

“I said you don’t have to try and be hot.”

“...This is how I look.” 

“Oh. Uh. Cool.” 

The demon smiles, “Having second thoughts?”

He takes a deep breath and lies through his teeth, “Nope.”

With that, he stands, grabbing the nearest shirt and pulling it on. Sass wiggles when he opens the door, takes one look behind him, and runs the other way.

“I wish I knew why earth canines react that way to me. I have a hellhound named Mother Leeds who adores me.”

“Jersey Devil reference?” He pads into the kitchen, starts the kettle and rummages in the cabinet for the most soothing tea blend he owns. 

“Yes!” The demon grins from his new position by the fridge, “when I found her she was pregnant with a litter. Most people don’t get it. Demons don’t either.”

“Friend of mine likes Mothman and all that kinda stuff. Uh” He takes a cup down, reaches for a second one automatically and then stops, “are you gonna hang around? Because my answer isn’t changing and if you keep pestering me I’ll just leave the apartment.”

“No, I’ll drop it. You’re not interested and sexual energy only works if it’s from something consensual. But, um” he toys with a magnet, “could I ask a few questions before I go?”

“About?”

“Humans. How things work up here, what your daily lives are like, that sort of thing.”

“Uh, sure.” He gets down the second mug, “is this so you can better seduce them or something?” Turning, he finds the incubus sitting at the table, producing a small notebook and pen from the air.

“No, this is my own research. I’m, um, more curious about humans than the average demon. I basically ended up an incubus because at my last job I kept trying to talk with humans or spend more time around them than was wise and, well, my supervisor got sick of it. So they offered me a reassignment to a role where the whole point was to be around people.”

“You fuck people just so you can, like, interview them afterwards?” He sets the two mugs on the table, notices that the notebook is crammed with questions in neat, elegant handwriting. 

“Technically, I also need the energy from it. But, um, yes” he blushes, “I know it’s a sort of silly hobby.”

“I don’t think it’s silly to wanna know about other worlds and people. But this doesn’t seem like the most, uh, effective way to do it.”

A sigh as the demon picks up his mug, “You’ve got that right. Sometimes I can get a few questions in during ‘pillow talk’ but mostly it’s in and out. Literally.” He snickers at his own bad joke, which further kindles the inexplicable, protective impulse Barclay feels towards him, “Don’t get me wrong, I like my work, and being a good incubus takes skill and dedication. It just...isn’t quite what I thought it’d be.” He sips the tea, brings the mug away from his mouth to study the liquid, “what kind is this?”

“Mostly chamomile.” 

“Chamomile…” he flips through the book, which contains more pages than should be physically and spatially possible, “that’s a plant, one that humans thing is calming, right?”

Barclay can’t help but smile, “Right. You want me to sit here and quiz you?”

“No, there’s too much to discover. What would you say is your area of expertise?” 

“I’m a cook, so food.”

“Food, food, ah here it is. Let’s see, why do humans persist in eating things that could kill them?”

“You mean things like rhubarb or are we in, like, Fugu territory here?”

The demon smiles, “I have no idea, please say more.”

They sit at the table until two in the morning, at which point Joseph ,the incubus, excuses himself to go collect energy from a willing participant. Before he disappears, he takes a chance and tells Joseph that he can come back if he has more questions. The demon thanks him and, out of what Barclay suspects is a habit more than anything else, blows him a kiss goodbye. 

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

“Y’know, I kinda figured you’d look more demonic. Do incubi just get human forms?” Barclay shakes red pepper flakes onto his pizza while Joseph finishes a filled breadstick. 

“This isn’t my ‘true’ form. When you asked me just to look like myself when we met, I figured you meant the least alarming version.”

“As long as it’s not, like, a beast with a thousand eyes, we’re good.”

Joseph wipes his mouth and by the time the napkin reaches the other corner of his lips, Barclay is gasping.

His nails turn sharp and silver, his eyes pure black, but it’s his skin that’s most noticeable; it’s swirls and swoops of blue and silver, dancing down his arms and blooming out from the neck of his  “Museum of Anthropology” souvenir shirt. He stands, giving Barclay a fuller view. Short horns sprout from his head, doubtless the perfect size and texture to hold him in place with your dick down his throat. His tail is that same mix of royal blue and silver, the right length to wrap around your hand and tug while you fuck him. Every inch of him is made to be pinched and pulled, groped and fondled, and Barclay will not be standing up from the table any time soon.

“It’s the color that gets people.” Joseph smiles with pointed teeth as he sits back down.

“It’s incredible, Joseph.”

The demon smiles, mischievous, “I’m glad you like it. Now, where were we?” He uncovers his notebook from a stack of parmesan packets and clicks his pen, appearance fading back to the human one Barclay is used to. He mourns his loss for a moment, before Joseph draws him into an animated conversation about movie theaters. 

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

“Come on Sass, it’s okay. Look, I even have your favorite.” Joseph holds out the treat, still fresh from the oven, while Barclay puts the rest of the batch out of range. The dog no longer runs from the demon, but will not come within arms reach of him. 

Sass whines, looking from Joseph to Barclay and back. 

“Here” Barclay settles on the couch next to him, resting his arm along the back of it, “see, buddy, he’s our friend.”

Sass creeps forward, still on his belly, plucks the treat from Joseph’s palm, and retreats to his bed. 

“Progress.” Joseph leans back, pleased. Their positions mean he comes to rest with Barclays arm around him. Barclay doesn’t move it, and the demon stays put until the end of the episode of Hells’ Kitchen

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

The newest Agent X is so engrossing that Barclay doesn’t register Joseph until his friend slumps onto the bed. 

“Hey, you’re early.” He sets the book down on the nightstand, scooching to where the demon sits rubbing his forehead.

“I’m, um, I’m having a bit of a problem.” When he looks up, silver and blue peeks through the skin on his face, “I misjudged how much energy I was going to get from my last two visits. I’m so weak I don’t think I can make it back home. I, um, I came here because if I’m going to be stuck and without powers I” his horns appear and he scratches them awkwardly, “I want it to be around someone I trust.”

“What’ll happen if you can’t get more energy?”

“I’ll get sick, and if the worst happens I’ll have to signal for someone to come get me. Which’ll get me demoted for sure.” He tucks his legs up onto the bed. He’s wearing the UFO socks Barclay gave him as a surprise last week, and the cook sets a hand on a flying-saucer covered ankle. 

“You can stay as long as you need, okay? And if there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know.”

“Unless you feel like taking me door to door to ask your neighbors if they want to fuck, a safe place to rest is what I need most.”

“What if, uh, you recharged here?” He draws a finger up and down the side of Josephs’ calf.

The incubus raises his eyebrows, “Barclay, are you forgetting how we met?”

“I didn’t want to fuck you then, but now...now you’re you, this handsome, clever, dorky guy who also happens to be a sex demon who hangs around my house most nights. I, I didn’t ask about sooner because I was afraid you’d think it was fuck me or lose our friendship, but if I can help you in a kinda self-serving way, I’m down.”

Joseph shakes his head, “That’s sweet, but you’re not the only one with concerns. How can I be sure you actually want me, and you’re not just offering because you want to help?”

Barclay snaps his fingers, “You can read my deepest desires, right? How about you take a peek and tell me what you see?”

Joseph closes his eyes, tail twitching as he concentrates, and Barclay gets the distinct pleasure of watching his face as he learns the truth. 

“Oh. OH. Um, you’re not kidding about how badly you want me. And some of this makes the reaction you had the one time I showed up in a suit make way more sense. But we can explore that later.” His eyes, now-pitch black, snap open, “right now, big guy, I’ll do whatever you want, however you want it.” 

“In that case” Barclay catches Joseph just as he tries for a kiss, “how about you tell me what you want?”

“Barclay, I’m an incubus, I want whatever the person I’m feeding on wants.”

“Nuhuh, I don’t buy that, babe. You’re telling me there’s nothing that’s your favorite, or that you’re curious about?” He teases their lips together.

“N-no?”

“You’re not getting any kisses until you tell me the truth.”

Joseph narrows his eyes with a “hmmph.” Then, as if it’s his greatest secret, he whispers, “I want to know what it’s like to get a massage as foreplay. No one’s ever wanted it or offered, and it sounds so nice.”

Barclay rewards him with a kiss. The demon melts against him, slides a forked tongue into his mouth to tease it. Clawed fingers tug at his shirt until Joseph remembers he can do magic and renders them both naked with a wave of the hand.

When they part, Joseph licks his lips, “Holy hell, Barclay, that kiss was enough to make me feel better than I did this morning. Tastes nice too, like coffee with lots of cream.”

“So, coffee the way you like it.” Barclay nudges him backwards, rolls him over as the incubus keeps talking. 

“Usually it’s a neutral sweetness. I wonder, hmm, maybe it has something to do with the fact you’re attracted to me, as in the actual meOHohhhhhhh” he flattens into the bed like a cat on a sunny floor as Barclay digs his thumbs under his shoulder blades. 

“You can theorize later babe, I promise. Right now, all you gotta do is let me rub you down. Uh, can you magic up some oil or something? It’ll feel better if--great, thanks.” Barclay sets the lit massage candle safely on the nightstand, waiting for it to melt. 

“Should I put my human form back on now that I can hold it?”

“Nope” he traces his hands up parallel patches of silver, pinches one horn playfully, “I love that version of you, but this one is so, so, fucking hot. Now” be kisses the base of his neck, “relax.”

Drizzling liquid wax down his spine makes the incubus moan, but the sound is nothing compared to what happens when he starts kneading him like dough. It’s a yowl, rough and inelegant in a way Joseph never is, and Barclay dedicates the next fifteen minutes to finding new ways to trigger it. He’s so beautiful, it’s like touching a painting, a galaxy, a miracle.

By the time he reaches his lower back the incubus is grinding on the bed and Barclay is half-hard from touching him. He grips Joseph’s ass, parting it enough to grind between the cheeks. 

“Don’t tease” his tail delivers a scolding thwack to Barclays cheek. The cook growls, turning his head to capture the offending appendage between his teeth.

“OHholyffffffuckinghell.” Joseph rips the blanket as he flails, “no one’s ever thought to do that before and now I really wish they had.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He ignores his growing hard-on in favor of nipping and kissing his way down Joseph’s tail. It’s velvety, feels like nothing he’s ever experienced as it twitches and trembles under his tongue. The base gets an extra-hard lovebite and Joseph moans, rolling over so fast he nearly catches Barclay in the face with his cock. And what a cock, on the narrow side but covered in swirling ridges.

“Holy shit, you just get hotter and hotter.”

“Th-thank you, big guy, now for gods sake pleeEEEase fuck me.” He whimpers adorably when Barclay licks up his shaft. 

“Okay babe, we can fuck. But I think…” he grabs the incubus, flipping them so Joseph straddles him, “I want you to fuck me.”

Joseph registers his words and his eyes glow deep blue. 

“Uh, is that a good thing?”

“Yes, big guy, it’s the closest I get to having my pupils dilate when aroused. And since you look so good underneath me, I’ll expedite things” he snaps his fingers and Barclay inhales in surprise; his ass is dripping lube and stretched like someone just pulled three fingers away from it.

“Fuck yeah” he spreads his legs, “c’mon blue eyes, don’t make me wait anymoreOHFUCK, fuck, yeah, like that.” He hooks his legs around Joseph as the incubus thrusts all the way in. Joseph kisses in precise shapes up and down his face, even as his hips keep a rapid, erratic rhythm. 

“Shit, shit, Barclay you taste so good, feel so good, please, please don’t stop touching me.”

“Not sure I could ever keep my hands to myself again, babe, god you’re so fucking handsomeAH, hah, someone got a praise kink?” He gasps out laughter as Joseph fucks him harder with each kind word. The ridges on his cock are solid enough that Barclay feels them with each drag, and it sets his toes curling.

“Maybe a little one” the incubus smiles against his neck, “though kink is a distinctly human concept and a complex one-SHITfuck, fuck please do that again.” He kisses Barclay hard as the human obligingly pulls his tail with one hand and smacks his ass with the other. Teeth catch Barclay’s lower lip on the next tug, a moan spilling from Josephs’ mouth down his chin. 

“That’s it baby, fuck me while I rough you up, fuck, Joseph, your dick is fucking perfect, never gonna want another one, c’mon please, I’m close.”

Joseph sits up, grinning joyfully, and grips Barclays cock. It’s a masterful handjob, because how could a sex demon give anything else, but what strikes Barclay most is how happy and relaxed Joseph is. The incubus admitted once that even when he was having sex, he constantly worried about fulfilling the fantasy to earn enough energy to feed. Yet here he’s laughing and smiling, eyes aglow as he works Barclay up to the best orgasm of his life. 

It means something; Barclay only hopes Joseph will stay in his life long enough for him to figure out what. 

He’s too busy with the sparks behind his eyelids and the pleasure coursing down from his head to his toes to note that Joseph managed to make them cum at the same time. The incubus pushes a hand through his fair, swooping it back and off his face, as he notes this accomplishment. 

“I want to run a marathon. Or maybe go hiking, or swim the lake. I have so much energy. Barclay, it’s amazing. You, it’s never been like that before. It’s felt good, but that was fucking transcendent. 

“No fucking kidding.” Barclay shifts onto his side, nestling up against him so his head is under Joseph’s chin. He yawns, kisses a blue shoulder, “but you might have to burn off some energy without me. You wore me out, blue eyes.”

Joseph adjusts his arms so he’s holding him, “If I stay the night, can I walk Sass with you in the morning?”

Barclay nods, already falling asleep, safe in the knowledge that Joseph is okay and, better yet, so fond of him that his eyes are still glowing, “You got a deal, babe.”

[kurosukii]

Be prepared to journey with me to dreamland. So normally my dreams love cunt blocking me, or as I love to call it "sandbagging" bc its preventing me from flooding my half of the US.

So last night I had a weird ass fantasy like dream where a bunch of people were in this large cave entrance holding a ceremony to pick the next monarch. In this world they didn't pick monarchs by blood line, it was a giant sky whale that looked like something out of Shadow of the Colossus, that basically announced the next monarch after the previous one dies.

So I end up standing on its back and it tells me I'll be the next princess, but I'll only be crowned or given the title post mortem. Like fucking great, so I'm going to die soon? Literally the monarch before died and they needed another but were only going to consider me one after I died. Wtf? So anyways, after it's prediction it starts to split and fall out of the sky, me along with it, and guess who saves me from impending death? Atsumu Miya (which I find humorous bc I have the hots for Osamu and in the dream it was clear that Tsumie was my bff).

So after that we go on a quest bc I need my Arthurianesque sword in the stone, which my sister finds and pulls out. Turns out anyone can pull it out but only the chosen one can put it in this weird portal to open up this tomb with other stuff. So I put this huge white glowing blade into the shining hole (not a euphemism) and this tomb comes up from the ground. I open the door and there is a scepter that looks like the hook ones that shepherds use. At the tip was a giant crystal. There was also a snake pattern. Snakes are an ongoing theme in my life, it's not even funny anymore.

Of course I reach out for it. Once I take it a monster awakens, bc of course it does, and it comes after me. I keep it away with the end of the scepter and can only do minor damage with the sword at that distance so I call out for help. Who is the first to show? Tsumu. He helps kill the beast. Then we go foraging around for things like in a typical fantasy rpg video game. Yay, quests.

We end up at a place that gives upgraded armor and weapons for your class. Mine automatically is more of a mage's robes instead of a typical fighter. And I had this epic hat that looked like a mushroom. I need to find the type of mushroom bc it was cool looking. And all white. I guess so the blood stands out. Haha.

Then I had to choose outfits for my "coronation" I picked a gold and biege one that was very pretty and flows and then this purple one with a halter top and huge purple ruffle skirt. It looked like a wedding dress. As Atsumu aptly put it. He told me to pick it and I went with it too deciding to change outfits throughout the evening.

So as I was getting ready Atsumu sneaks in the back and we're about to start having sex and someone fucking walks in! Like wtf?! So we stop and he kisses my cheek and says, "cya Ina bit, princess. Let's get married". It was funny bc I think it was supposed to be an arranged one too. But they only arranged it after I was announced as princess by the whale.i guess they figured why not we're besties. Man, dis I hate being cockblocked.

Second dream I don't remember too well, why you may ask? Bc I actually had sex in it. NOT ONLY THAT BUT A FUCKING THREESOME WITH MAKKI AND MATTSUN!!! I'm telling you my brain hates me. It either always interrupts me or I can't remember. Only a handful of times have I ever remembered the sex in my dreams. All I remember was it was intense and slow. Makki was teasing me a lot as Mattsun was sucking on my neck and balls deep in me. Man how I wish it was real.

omg 😭 how the hell do u guys get sex dreams 😭 my dreams are so fucked up that if i tell people about it i’ll be institutionalised 😭

[walker-journal]

The Versipellis of the 7/11 (Adam + Kaden)

Characters: Kaden Langley (Hunter-Liz), Adam Walker (Hunter-Tapir)

Summary: Kaden and Adam go to a canabalistic crime scene and find themselves tracking down a familiar foe.

Content Warnings: Gun Use, Head Trauma 

Lycanthropy and all its permutations wasn’t Adam Walker’s specialty. However Versipellis curse was something he had personal experience with. Adam had to force those memories down as he examined the cashier’s body, the man unrecognizable after being mostly cannibalized. The bite marks on his body resembled those of a human mouth in some places, but the size and jaw structure distended as the curse had taken hold of the perpetrator, twisting them into something that’d eventually chomped this guy’s head in half like a pumpkin gourd.

Adam began the morbid task of rifling through the victim’s possessions, constructing guesses from clues and what he already knew. The Hunter’s gloved fingers flipped through bloodstained debit cards and receipts in what was left of the guy’s wallet. Crisp electronic clicks began as Adam rubbed enough dark gore off a smartphone to sift through photos of family and the most recent texts.

It seemed like a form of desecration to so casually paw through a person’s life before their corpse had even cooled. Adam wasn’t a naturally nosy dude and felt only a cold pit in his stomach as he scrutinized this window into the everyday complexity of someone else’s personhood. But they didn’t have time to spare, and Adam had been conditioned to suppress any squicky sentimentality that might interfere with the mission.

“Our victim is Michael P. Brewer, thirty six year old man, five feet and nine inches, one hundred and forty three pounds,” Adam rattled off with militaristic dispassion as he knelt over what was left of the body. “He was about to get off shift, but his replacement attacked while he was busy with the punch card. The bites began at the neck until the perpetrator’s increasing bulk forced Michael to the floor, where he was eaten alive. He is survived by his wife: Crow Brewer,” he finished.

“The likely perp is Tammy L. Killian, twenty nine year old woman, black hair, about five-six from this photo,” Adam held up a screenshot from Michael’s phone where the now intact man stood smiling next to his coworker at a union meeting. “She was texting Michael about wanting to come in for her shift despite suffering a bite from a wild animal that ate her dog last night.”

Adam looked up at the more experienced Hunter. “What’s the call Langley?”

When Kaden got the call from Walker about a body in the convenience store, he didn’t hesitate.  As much as hunting gave him pause recently, he wouldn’t leave the kid hanging. Even if he had to squash the voice in the back of his head telling him to call it in to the authorities. Didn’t last long. Not when he heard the basics of the situation. This was stained with supernatural shit, no doubt.

The first thing he did when they walked in, after placing the police tape to keep out any one else who might wander by, was head straight for the security cameras. Technology was far from his strong suit, but years of keeping the supernatural secret (and keeping himself out of prison) was enough for him to learn a few tricks here and there how to destroy evidence. Lucky for them, the whole setup was far from complicated. Kaden ripped the cameras out of the corners of the place and slammed them to the ground before giving them a good stomp with his boot for good measure. He reached behind the counter and gave the CCTV screen there and the box attached to it the same treatment.

By the time he was done, Walker was already halfway through rifling the victim's belongings. There were times Kaden regretted getting involved with law enforcement. Times like now, when he had that nagging feeling that he was going against his duty as WCPD. Examining the body before even considering reporting it. Still, his duty to the hunter’s codes went back far longer than any job and would endure long past that. Of course. Well, unless he-- That didn’t matter. The point was he was a hunter first. It was in his blood, he couldn’t walk away from his genetics even if he wanted to. He didn’t have to ask for details, Walker was good at delving them out as he went.

“Bite from a wild animal, huh?”  Kaden huffed out a laugh. They both knew damn well what that meant. “You said you thought this was a versipellis case,” he stated, leaning down to get a better look at the body. He’d seen injuries like this before. Unfortunately. “Gotta agree.”

He stood up, cracked his knuckles and glanced back over his shoulder. No sign of anyone approaching. Good. Kaden turned back and gave Walker his answer. “We find the monster. We kill the monster.” There was no gesture or further explanation. Kaden started walking, following the trail of destruction. “Looks like it burst out the back,” he added, heading through what was left of the back door. Maybe they had a shot of catching up with the beast before it found another victim. He didn’t want to call Michael P. Brewer lucky but death was preferable to being turned by a versipellis of all things.

“There was a Verispellis case earlier that turned a selkie feral,” supplied Adam as he followed Kaden out the back door. That was the danger of the Turnskin. A single bite could lead to a domino effect of secondary infections and people devoured alive. Kinna like a zombie but with some giant doggo skinbursting as a treat.

“However the infection ran its course in that selkie without the transformation taking hold and he’s been stable since,” continued Adam, making an effort to keep his voice professionally neutral, as if David Herring were simply just a witness to a case. The rational part of Adam knew that Kaden probably wouldn’t have a problem with his noodling partner, considering who Regan was. However, the reflex towards covering his ass so was automatic that Adam didn’t even realize how he was speaking until the words were out of his mouth.

Adam looked around the alley culdesac they’d walked into, Brick walls surrounded them on three sides laden with cardboard debris and dumpsters. The Hunter’s eyes scanned past the refuse to fix on long white claw marks that'd been gouged one far of the brick walls as if the back legs of something huge had clambered up side after a leap.

“There over that wall,” Adam noted, already in the process of performing a running vault that carried him onto a dumpster and then onto the wall.

“It bit a selkie?” Kaden’s brows furrowed as he glanced back at the other hunter. There were a lot of questions there. First off, how Walker knew a selkie, which one, why he didn’t take care of said selkie while feral, how he knew any of this, if this was connected to the case Rio mentioned. Before he could decide where to begin, Walker at least allayed some of his concerns. Only some of them. “You’re sure he’s not going to turn?” In the end, that was the only question that mattered, right? He wasn’t sure a selkie could turn, but he’d seen weirder shit. “Guess I’ll have to trust you, Walker,” he answered just as flatly as the other hunter had in turn. It was strange how easily it could all come flooding back every time, the harshness, the simplicity of it all. There was a right and there was a wrong and nothing else in between. And no time for emotions or questions like the ones clawing to the forefront of his mind just then.

Kaden followed what he could see of the trail of destruction into the alleyway with Walker. Sure looked right to him, onto the dumpster and over the wall it was. He gave a curt nod and was about to check the lid of said dumpster when Adam took off. “Putain,” he muttered to himself, huffing a sigh before pulling himself onto it and hopping up to the wall. Not about to run and vault if he could avoid it. He wasn’t as old as Oscar yet but he sure as hell wasn’t about to show off for no goddamn reason.

He surveyed the scene ahead of him, looking for any more signs or clues. The crushed trash cans strewn about the streets leading to a busted fence seemed like the right answer. Kaden waved the other hunter on and followed the destruction towards what looked like a construction site. A new building, an old building, hard to say in this town. Nothing lasted too long, not when there were monsters crawling out of every crack and crevice. Kaden held his breath and tried to listen deep. He didn’t hear much beyond the wind rattling the unsteady beams and scaffolds, but he could feel the pin pricks along his spine signifying that some sort of lycanthrope was nearby. Whether it was the one they were looking for, that was a different question entirely. “I think it might be cl--” A creak and a scraping of metal came from above. Kaden didn’t need to look up to know the growling was coming from the same direction. Shit. Guess they found it alright.

Adam ran over to a figure crumbled amongst the cinderblocks. He dusted off a man in his late twenties whose red hair was greyed the construction site’s powdery rubble. Adam checked for a pulse and began cardiac compressions and mouth to mouth resuscitation.

Adam’s humanitarian concerns had drawn him farther into the construction site than Kaden. Evening’s amber light was broken by the skeletal silhouette of scaffolding and rebar, casting bars of shadow across the younger Adam as he attended to merciful procedure without enough care for his own surroundings.

A gagging cough signaled that Adam had been successful, and the Hunter helped his charge into a sitting position on one of the larger cinder-blocks. “Its Aaron Osheen,” Adam explained. “One of Killian’s coworkers...aw shit.” It was then that Adam got a better look at his rescuee, including the deep well of blood on Aaron’s calf. “Hey uh Langley we got a bite here…” However this thought was cut off as metal screeching and growling descended from above.

Kaden’s eyes were scanning along the scaffolds for any signs of claws and fangs. He saw a flash of motion somewhere in the distance when Walker called out to him. His attention shot around to see the other hunter standing over a victim. “How bad does it loo-- a bite?” Before Kaden could utter a single French curse word let alone the slew of them he had planned, a monster leapt out from the metal tower towards them.

He raised the gun in his hand and let the shots fly towards the beast, bangs ringing out in empty site. One hit. Enough to slow it, not enough to stop it. Kaden shot again, out of rounds. It closed in and reloading wasn’t an option. He reached for his knife and threw himself to the side of the versipellis, slashing at its flank. It whipped around and he could feel its hot breath hanging in the air. Which meant the fangs were close enough to snap his arm in two. It swiped with its claws and Kaden rushed to its side again. Not fast enough to miss the talons sinking into his skin. But enough to give him the space to pull himself up the beams nearby. If he could get a vertical angle he’d have the advantage. He just needed Walker to hold his ground.  

Adam unslung his machete and did a pull-up on one of the hanging rebar poles. He performed a gymnast’s swing up onto what would eventually be this building’s second floor and faced the enormous wolf that was still covered in gore from tearing up a 7/11. As with many lycanthropes, ‘wolf’ was a crude generalization for the quadrupedal goliath of muscle and unnaturally proportioned limbs before him. It was far bigger than the largest kodiak bears and yet leapt from scaffolding and cinderblocks with a grace that was truly disconcerting in something that huge.

Adam moved to flank the thing trying to claw up Kaden, bringing his machete down in a two-handed slice down one of the versipellis’ back legs, mutant strength leveraging the blade straight through solid muscle. A howling whine of pain rewarded the raw aggression, and Adam succeeded in gaining the giant lycanthrope’s attention. He readied himself to be an elusive target while Kaden closed in for the kill from behind.

But pain lanced up his leg and Adam stumbled to one knee as something jerked his other leg off the scaffolding from below.

In a critical second of distraction, Adam glanced down into the bloodshot eyes of Aaron Osheen. The cashier has sunk his teeth into Adam’s leg, foaming spittle mixing with the Hunter’s blood. Aaron has clambered after Adam in a cursed frenzy, frantically trying to drag him down to the second floor to devour.

Kaden scrambled onto the ledge and reached for his second gun. His hand was around the handle, aimed, ready to let loose on the snarling beast below when he saw Walker dragged off to the side. Shit. The victim wasn’t a victim anymore. He turned his aim towards the other hunter and the cashier, thought about picking off a shot but it was too risky. There was no way to tell limb from limb. On top of that, the mass of fur, mange, and gore leapt up, clawing at the beams in front of him. Putain.

Kaden’s eyes darted and saw a platform across the way and sprinted. Hope this works. He threw himself across to the next patch of construction. He knew the monster could clear the space between them with ease but he’d made enough time to reload, fire a few more bullets into the lycan. The squeals and screams were a pretty good indication they hit, slow it, but it wasn’t down. And it was jumping to where Kaden was standing. He braced himself for impact as the claws came towards him. He knew he shouldn’t have closed his eyes, but some instincts were too hard to fight. He expected to feel sharp scratches of pain. Instead, gravity was giving way below them both. Fuck.

Adam watched Kaden and the wolf plummet down to the rubble of the first story in a tide wave of wood splitters and bent rebar. “Damn it.” He hadn’t been fast enough to grab Kaden out of the way, the civilian gnawing on his leg. Adam gritted his teeth and lifted both his leg and Aaron Osheen onto the second story with him. Fitting back rage at the feeling of his own flesh ripping in the cursed human’s teeth, Adam steadied his breathing. He needed to get Aaron off himself without pulverising the normie to death with too much force.

Adam let in one purposeful inhale, exhaled, and brought together both his hands on either side of Aaron’s temples, boxing his ears. Even holding back, the blow disoriented Aaron enough to release his jaw.

Adam hefted the concussed coughing guy off of him, tensed his abdomen, and flipped back up to his feet in one acrobatic movement. He looked down at where Kaden and the Versipellis had fallen, fastening his machete and drawing a silvered combat knife. Adam stood a running start before leaping down one store onto the Lycanthrope’s back from above, plunging the silver knife down into the beast.  

Kaden gasped for some of the air that was knocked from his lungs when his back slammed on the ground. Walker bought him a second to reach for his-- Fuck. Kaden went to wrap his fist around his gun to find nothing but wood chips in his hand. Weight pressed onto him and teeth flashed towards his flesh. He reached out and clambered for the first thing he could get his hands on. His fingers gripped the cold metal and he swung it at the beast’s head. Spit sprayed across the hunter’s face, but his jugular was still intact.

The wolf flinched, barely stunned, but Kaden pushed himself away, kicking his way out of the rubble. Gun was nowhere to be seen. He grabbed the small silver knife in his pocket. Not the best weapon, but it was the closest on hand. The monster had spun its attention to the hunter on its back, its claw reaching up to grab the younger hunter. No. Not today. Kaden thrust the small blade down through the monster’s foot, pinning it in place as it yowled in pain. Wouldn’t last. Was far from lethal. But he needed to buy time to bring out Last Chance.

Adam found himself in the precarious bucking bronco position of riding a Versipellis. He raised up the bloody silver knife to plunge it in again in search of a vital organ, but soon he was much more focused on trying not to be clawed off the lycanthrope’s back. Well aware that being dragged under the werewolf would likely end with his innards being raked out in seconds, Adam held on for dear life as he swung his leg narrowly out of the way of the annoyed wolf’s scratching claws.

Grabbing for any handhold as his world became a thrashing roller coaster, Adam’s every muscle was taut as he held onto to his grip and his lunch. Red-rimmed blackness closed in on the edge of his vision as an increasingly frantic swipe from the werewolf found purchase on his ribs. Adam had to shift his weight to the other side of the beast’s back to avoid being dragged down. Blood from his gouged side mingled with the puncture wounds he’d driven in the werewolf’s back, and Adam’s grip began to slip from the sheer amount of blood slickening everything.

Gritting his teeth Adam risked a one-armed hold around the werewolf’s massive neck to draw his silver knife again. He began to stab the blade into the Versipellis’ throat towards the jugular and…

Everything vanished in blackness and pain.

Adam’s ears rang with dull concussed clamor as he blearily opened his eyes. Blood ran down the back of his neck from where the Versipellis had ended the annoyance stabbing it from behind by intentionally ramming itself backwards into a cinderblock wall. Adam coughed and gagged up dark bile from internal wounds. He tried to summon the will to stand, and had gotten halfway to his feet and something slammed him down again.

Adam looked blearily up into the panting face of Aaron Osheen as the infected human opened his foaming mouth to bite down on the fallen hunter’s shoulder.

Kaden’s knife wasn’t in hand in time to stop the versipellis from throwing Walker across the crumbled construction like a ragdoll. His knuckles went white around the handle, his jaw clenched, and his heart pounding in his eardrums as he charged at the wolf. It made its move first, going straight for his shoulder. Kaden ducked to the right, the monster's momentum pulled him forward and it crashed into a support beam. Which might have been a good move. If a few dozen planks of wood didn’t come spilling down from above them. He covered his head, dove away but he got slapped around all the same.

The versipellis pivoted, pushed itself off the beam and pinned the hunter to ground. This time, Kaden was ready. Or he thought he was ready. He had his knife this time. But the monster sunk its claws into his shoulders, shoving him across the wooden beams, splinters digging into his back as he scraped across the lumber. Fangs found their way towards Kaden’s flesh. The hunter kicked and used every ounce of strength he had to brace against the beast with his arms.

Pain seared into his forearm as teeth pulled at his skin, tearing at it, shredding him. If he screamed or howled at the pain, Kaden didn’t know, couldn’t remember. All his focus, everything was on the knife. Bringing it down, digging it directly into its neck. Pushing it just a little farther and twisting it for good measure.

He felt the jaws around him loosen up and Kaden shoved the monster off of him. It was fading. Not fast enough. Kaden pushed himself up, was just about to lunge back at the wolf when he heard a different sort of growl from behind him.

His gaze shot to Aaron. And Adam. The versipellis was dying. He wasn’t about to let a hunter die, too. Kaden sprinted over to them, stumbling over the mess of beams and debris, and reached to grab Aaron by his collar and yank him back.

Adam staggered to his feet, covered in blood and dust. He leaned against a pillar of riveted steel for support as everything swam with dark spots and white flares. The younger Hunter looked from the dying wolf to the still frothing Aaron. “Thanks man,” he managed to gasp to Kaden. “We’ll need to get this dude in confinement till…”

Adam saw the Verspellis lunge forward, mad with lethal pain. The wounded lycanthrope rushed towards them, a frenzied juggernaut of bleeding muscle. “Kade! Heads up!”

The pain was starting to settle in and the adrenaline was waning. Kaden had the cashier by the collar and was more or less contained, Walker was still breathing, and the versipellis was--

Kaden turned to see the wolf tunneling towards him. Aaron was tossed aside with as much care as the hunter could manage. Sharp claws and fangs lunged at him. Kaden inhaled, braced for the pain, and threw himself at the monster. It tripped back. Kaden jammed his silver blade into the versipellis’ chest. Gravity took hold once again. This time it was the monster that gave way, falling back to the ground with a shrieking whine. The hunter pulled the blade down and out of the beast’s chest. All that was left was the twitching as the fight left its body and the light left its eyes.

Kaden wanted to collapse. Maybe catch his breath. Give the injuries a one over. But they weren’t done. Not yet. He pushed his blood covered body off the dead beast and turned his attention back to the cashier. “Got any ideas?” he asked as he reached to contain Aaron once more.

“I’ve got a bunker made from a buried cargo container,” noted Adam as he leaned against the steel pillar. It wasn’t exactly the most glorious hideout, but it sufficed for having a discreet place to store things. “There’s plenty of MREs and water in there. Aaron can be locked in there till the curse wears off?”

Adam staggered over to the downed wolf. Death didn’t do much to make the giant predator less intimidating, or easier to get the hell out of here. Everything hurt, but that wasn’t any excuse to just leave paranormal evidence out in the open.  “I can bring the truck around and we can load it under a tarp?” “Hey Langley,” Adam turned his bruise-covered face to Kaden. “Thank you, like seriously, you saved my ass back there.”

Kaden’s brows furrowed. “You’ve got a what?” Aaron tried to pull away and break from his grasp. Kaden focused back on the cashier and considered knocking him out. Might make things easier. Shit, was it ethical? Aaron lunged again and that settled it. Kaden struck at the cashier’s neck at a pressure point, catching the body as he fell unconscious and setting him down. If nothing else, gave them time to tie him up to get him to that bunker.

“Sounds good.” Kaden sighed looking over at the dead versipellis. It was a lot easier when this happened in the woods. Leaving monsters there was never an issue. Concern creased into his forehead as he looked back at Walker. “You think you can make it?” Kaden asked. He was pretty badly hurt. Sure, nothing new for the likes of them but it wasn’t pretty regardless.

“Don’t mention it, Walker,” Kaden replied, offering as much of a smile as he could manage, finally feeling the weariness wash over him. “You saved mine a few times there, too. And I wasn’t about to let you die out there.”

Adam grinned, a sunbeam amidst bruises and blood. “I’ll make it Kade. Here, help me get this mega-furry in the truck.”

[katymacsupernatural]

The Right Dean

Dean Winchester x Reader

1800 Words

Written For: @teamfreewillbingo

Square Filled: Dean Smith

Summary: Y/N isn’t sure whats going to happen when Dean Smith is dropped into the bunker.

Warnings: slight spoiler mention of Season 15

“Y/N, there’s someone here,” Jack whispered, shaking your shoulder, waking you up. You shot straight up, narrowly missing his forehead with your own as you automatically reached for the gun on the nightstand.

“What? Where?” You asked, trying to force your mind awake. Jack was already tugging on your hand, but you turned to the other side of the bed, instinctively trying to wake Dean. But then you remembered he and Sam had taken off late yesterday. Something about checking to make sure Jody was okay.

“Where’s Cas?” You asked, keeping the gun in your hand as you followed him to the hallway.

“He left. Said he needed to talk to someone,” Jack whispered, pulling you towards room 28, an unoccupied room. You could hear mumbling from behind the thick door, items falling to the ground. “But Y/N, how could someone get in? I thought this place was warded!”

You pulled him to a stop. “Jack, it’s okay. Why don’t you go call Cas, and I’ll see what’s up.” Jack padded off, his socks making little sound on the tile. When he was around the corner, you took a deep breath before shoving the door open.

In your hunter’s stance with the gun cocked in front of you, you strained your eyes to see what was making the noise in the darkened room. Muttered cursing could be heard, in a voice that was eerily familiar.

Your hand shaking slightly, you stepped forward, flipping the light switch on. “Dean!” you exclaimed with relief, looking at the man who lay sprawled on the floor.

As you started to lower the gun, you noticed the black dress pants instead of the faded denim. A sky blue shirt was tucked neatly into the waistband. A blue and yellow tie was knotted tightly around his neck, a pair of fancy suspenders finishing off the outfit. “Suspenders?” You whispered. “Dean, what the hell are you wearing?”

He dusted off his pants, straightened his tie before he stood up. “What do you mean? This is my normal attire for a Monday morning. And who the hell are you?”

If the suspenders weren’t enough to have you concerned, Dean’s lack of memory had you raising the gun again. “You’re not my Dean. So I would be explaining fast before I put a bullet between those green eyes of yours.”

“Your Dean?” He muttered, glancing around. “I am Dean Smith, and I seem to have lost my way. I was on my way to the office. Where am I now?”

“You’re in my home. In Kansas,” You answered, watching him closely as he glanced around the small room. Suddenly he bent over, putting his hands on his knees as he took in deep breaths.

“No...no..what’s happening?” He asked you. “I thought it was weird waking up in this place, and now…,”

Tucking the gun in your waistband, you stepped forward, still wary. But your gut was telling you this man meant no harm. He was lost and needed your help. “Y/N, I wonder if this is a Dean from another world. Like those last ones,” Jack spoke up from behind you, making you jump.

“I think you’re right,” you agreed. “Hey, Dean..what’s the last thing you remember?”

“I remember going to sleep last night,” he thought carefully. “Had a really strange dream. There was this guy Chuck. He said he was killing off worlds? He handed me this drink, and then I woke up here.”

You turned to Jack, completely ignoring the new Dean for a moment. “Chuck wanted him here? Why?”

“I just want to go to work,” this Dean complained. “I’m up for a promotion, and this stress is seriously throwing off this whole vibe I was working on.”

Rolling your eyes, you took a deep breath. “Listen, why don’t you come sit down in our Library, and we’ll see if we can figure something out.”

He followed you down the hallway, past your room, and into the library. “Wow, this is a crazy place you call home,” he exclaimed as he sat down at one of the wooden tables. “And you said earlier, your Dean. What do you mean?”

“I know this is confusing, but that guy Chuck? He’s God. He had created multiple worlds, but now he’s throwing a bitch fit, and killing them off. One by one,”

“My world..,” This Dean seemed shocked. “It’s gone?”

“Probably,” you answered, feeling sorry for the man.

“So, this is another world, and you have your own...Dean. What’s he do for a living?”

You weren’t sure if this version of Dean could handle the truth, but you were tired and in no mood to come up with a lie. Especially while in the bunker, surrounded by the Supernatural. “He hunts Monsters.”

Dean’s eyes grew huge as he almost tipped the chair over. “No freaking way! I knew there were ghosts, but wow.”

“You...you knew?” You shouldn’t have been surprised. This man continued to surprise you at every turn.

“Of course. Actually killed one last year. With this giant of a man named Sam. Now we’re pretty good friends.”

“Y/N, Cas called. He’s on his way back and so are Sam and Dean.” Jack announced before yawning.

“Jack, go get some sleep. Dean and I will be...fine,” you assured the young man who didn’t argue too much. He turned back down the hallway, leaving you alone with this strange version of the man you loved.

“Y/N,” he said your name as if he could taste it on his lips. “I knew a Y/N once, but she was nothing like you. She was all bite. She cared more about her own appearance than anything else. I was glad when she was moved to the Detroit branch. Even if we did have a couple of fun late nights threw in.”

It was easy to see what he meant by the late nights by the look on his face. Scooting his chair closer, his hand rested next to yours. “So you and this Dean...are you a thing, or...,?”

“We’re definitely a thing!” Dean growled from the top of the stairs. His hands clenched the iron railing while Sam tried to push past him. “Now get your slimy hand away…,”

“Dean, this is Dean Smith,” you tried calming him down as you scooted away. “He’s from one of the collapsing worlds.”

“I remember a Dean Smith,” Sam muttered as he bounded down the stairs. “Dean, remember? The alternate reality that the freaking Angels put us in? The stupid suits…,”

“Hey, I happen to like my suits,” Dean Smith interrupted. “And it cost me more than all of your outfits. Combined.”

“Don’t care,” Dean grumbled, coming to stand beside you. “But yeah, I remember that. Think it was actually one of Chuck’s worlds or…?”

“I think this guy answers our question,” Sam insisted. “But where’s Sam?”

Dean Smith shook his head sadly. “If everything is true, probably blown to bits by now.”

“Great. Another version of me to throw into this world,” Dean mumbled under his breath, his hand resting possessively against your lower back.

“Throw into this world?”

You had to feel sorry for the guy. Everything he had known, everyone he loved. Gone. “Listen, it would be really weird to have you here. But with your...office experience...you could get pretty much any job here. You’ll do just fine.”

“So, I get here, and you just toss me out to the wolves?” He pouted, staring directly at you which seemed to annoy your Dean even more. You liked seeing this possessive side of Dean, but it wasn’t helping this Dean at all.

“You can stay for a while,” you assured him, feeling Dean’s hand clench against your back. “But yeah, I think it would be better if you tried to find your way. Soon.”

He glanced between you and Dean, sighing heavily. “I’ll be gone tomorrow. As long as you’ll give me a lift?”

“Done,” your Dean agreed. “Now I’m gonna catch a couple of z’s before the sun comes up.”

Dean started to head down the hallway, but you hesitated. “Go on, I’ll be right there,” you assured him. “Just gonna get this guy settled.”

Dean narrowed his eyes but knew better than to say anything. “So, he always like that?” Dean Smith asked.

“Especially when someone is invading his territory. But come on, let’s get you to bed for the night.”

You turned to head down the hallway, but Dean grabbed your hand, turning you around. “Listen, I get it. But I envy the man.”

“You do?” You couldn’t help but notice how close he was. He smelled of expensive aftershave and mint, so unlike your Dean. It was offsetting.

“Yeah, if there had been a girl like you back in that world,” he spoke softly. “I would have done everything in my power to stay with her.”

“Maybe you’ll find someone here,” you offered, moving to the side when his hand went to brush your cheek.

“Maybe,” he agreed, refusing to take his eyes off you. You knew at any moment Dean could come out of his room, and things wouldn’t be pretty. “But why does this guy get everything, huh? This cool place to live, hell a world that isn’t dying around him. And then there’s you.”

“You don’t know me,” you argued. “True, but I think we clicked the moment you opened that door,” he started to argue, but you had enough.

“Listen, maybe on your world. But here, I belong with my Dean. The Dean that sleeps with a gun under his pillow. The Dean that drives that sexy black beast of his, who would do anything in the world to make sure the people he loves are safe. So thanks for the offer, but if you can’t understand this, then you better…,”

He threw up his hands. “No, no, I get it. It’s just been a long day, and I’m the only one left from my world. Makes a guy think. That’s all.”

“You can sleep in here,” you told him, pointing to the room you had first seen him. “Then tomorrow we can take you into town. You can get a bus ride to one of the bigger cities. You’ll be fine.”

He nodded, even though he didn’t seem assured. Shutting the door behind him, you turned to see your Dean leaning against the door that led to your shared room. “He hit on you?”

“Yeah,” you answered, holding your hand up when he started to move forward. “But I handled it.”

“I heard you,” he admitted, pulling you against him, his arms wrapped around your waist. “You sure? That version of me will probably have a mansion before we could blink. You don’t want that kind of life?”

“Hell no,” You insisted. “My five-star life is right here. Living in this bunker, knowing that I’ll fall asleep tonight with your arms wrapped around me.”

“Damn straight,” he agreed, pulling you into the room, and all thoughts of the other Dean fled from your mind.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278  @bebravekeeponfighting  @bi-danvers0 @brindz30 @cap-just-said-language @colette2537   @deansgirl215  @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller  @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie​ @mlovesstories​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​  @mrspeacem1nusone​ @nothinbuttrouble2​ @ria132love @ruprecht0420​     @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @ruprecht0420​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666

Forever Tags: @aditimukul​ @alexwinchester23​ @algud​ @amanda-teaches​ @andreaaalove​   @artisticpoet​ @atc74​ @be-amaziing​ @camelotandastronauts​ @caswinchester2000​ @cpag7​ @chelsea072498​  @closetspngirl​   @docharleythegeekqueen​ @emoryhemsworth​ @ericaprice2008​  @esoltis280​   @foxyjwls007​ @gh0stgurl​ @goldenolaf25​ @growningupgeek​  @heyitscam99​ @hobby27​ @horsegirly99​ @imsuperawkward​ @internationalmusicteacher​ @iwriteaboutdean​  @jayankles​ @jensen-gal​ @justsomedreaming​ @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son​ @lifelovelaughangell123 @li-ssu​ @linki-locks11​ @littleblue5mcdork​  @lowlyapprentice​   @maui137 @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ @mogaruke​ @monkeymcpoopoo​ @musiclovinchic93​  @nanie5​   @percussiongirl2017​ @plaid-lover-bay25​   @roonyxx​ @ronja-uebrick​ @roxyspearing​ @samanthaharper2018 @samanddeanmyheroes​ @sandlee44​ @shamelesslydean​ @simonsbluee​ @sillesworldofwriting​ @sgarrett49​ @spnbaby-67​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @spnwoman​   @superbadassnatural​ @thatcrazybookwormgeek​   @thewinchesterchronicles​ @vvinch3st3r​ @wecantgiggleitsafandom @whimsicalrobots​ @winchester-writes​ @zombiewerewolfqueen​