#because of your desperation of needing to be the hero

[elizabeth-holland24]

The Beast Within-Chapter 8

The sound of raised voices drew a crowd near the village tavern. Pete stood in the centre of the commotion, his face flushed with anger and exhaustion. His clothes were still damp from the night spent lost in the forest, and his hand trembled as he pointed accusingly at Gaston.

“You left me to die in the woods!” Pete’s voice cracked with a mixture of fury and disbelief. “You tied me to that tree, and you rode off like a coward. Do you deny it?”

Gaston, leaning lazily against the tavern wall, wore his trademark smirk. He crossed his arms, looking every bit the hero he claimed to be. “Old man, you’re delusional. Why would I waste my time on you?”

The crowd murmured, unsure who to believe. Pete’s frantic eyes scanned the villagers, searching for anyone who might defend him.

“He’s lying! He left me there because I wouldn’t support his ridiculous plan to force my daughter to marry him. He thought he could get rid of me and no one would care!” Pete’s voice grew louder, desperation dripping from every word.

Gaston laughed, his tone dripping with condescension. “You’re embarrassing yourself, Pete. Maybe you got lost because you’re too old to find your way home. But if you’re going to make wild accusations, at least make them believable.”

Pete’s hands balled into fists. “You’re a liar and a coward. The whole village should know the truth about whom you really are!”

“The truth?” Gaston’s grin faded, replaced by a dangerous glint in his eyes. He stepped forward, his imposing figure casting a shadow over Pete. “Careful, old man. You are starting to sound a little crazy. You wouldn’t want to say something you’ll regret.”

The tension was palpable, the crowd holding its collective breath. Pete held his ground, but it was clear the confrontation had taken its toll. His body shook with anger and fear, yet he refused to back down.

“I’ll find proof,” Pete spat. “And when I do, this entire village will know exactly what kind of man you are.”

Gaston’s smirk returned, but his eyes betrayed his irritation. “Good luck with that,” he said, his tone mockingly polite. “You’re going to need it.”

As Pete turned to leave, the crowd began to disperse, their whispers filling the air. Gaston watched him go, his jaw clenched and his fists tightening at his sides. The facade of indifference he projected was starting to crack.

Back in the Castle Jake paced his room, his paws thudding softly against the stone floor. He rubbed the back of his neck, his frustration palpable. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, his voice low and tense. “Every time I try to do something for her, I end up making it worse. She’s hurting because of me.” Bradley, raised an eyebrow. “Jake, you didn’t cause this. Stop blaming yourself.” “Yeah,” Javy chimed in from his spot by the window. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor with all that pacing. Just talk to her.” Jake stopped, running a hand through his hair. “But what if I say the wrong thing? What if I make it worse? She deserves better than that. Better than me.” Bradley straightened, his expression softening. “Sometimes people don’t need solutions. They just require someone to be there. Let her know it’s okay to feel what she’s feeling. Listen to her. Be her friend.” Javy nodded in agreement. “You care about her, right? Then show her. Just be there for her.” Jake exhaled, nodding slowly. “Alright. I’ll talk to her.”

In Mausis Room Jake stood outside Mausi’s door, his hand hovering uncertainly over the wood. He took a deep breath and knocked softly. “Mausi? It’s me. Look, I… I know you probably want to be alone right now, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I…” He trailed off, his nerves getting the better of him. The door creaked open, and Jake looked up to see Mausi standing there. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her expression weary but curious. She raised an eyebrow at his nervous rambling. “Jake,” she said softly, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “It’s okay.” He froze, startled by her sudden appearance. “I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he repeated, his words tumbling out awkwardly. “And that… I… I mean, we were starting to be friends, weren’t we?” Mausi’s expression softened. “We were. And I don’t blame you for what happened. It’s just… a lot.” She hesitated, her voice trembling. “Finding out Pete isn’t my father… and that my mother died because of me… it’s hard not to feel like it’s all my fault.” Jake’s heart ached at the pain in her voice. He stepped closer, his tone firm but gentle. “It’s not your fault, Mausi. None of it. When I saw your mother holding you, I could see how much she loved you. You were her world. And as for your… biological father, it’s his loss. He missed out on knowing someone brave, kind, strong, and… beautiful.” Mausi’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. No one, except for Pete and Mr. Kazansky, had ever spoken to her like that. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Jake, holding him tightly. Jake stiffened at first, unaccustomed to such vulnerability. But slowly, he relaxed, his arms encircling her in return. The warmth of her embrace brought a flood of memories he’d long buried—the last time someone had hugged him like this, he’d been a child, grieving the loss of his own parents. When Mausi pulled back, she offered him a small, shy smile. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I don’t know what came over me.” Jake cleared his throat, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “It’s… it’s alright. Actually, I… I had an idea.” “An idea?” Mausi tilted her head curiously. “Yeah. You remember how we were talking about having some real fun? I was thinking… what if we organized a ball? Just us and everyone here. What do you think?” Mausi’s eyes lit up, but she hesitated. “A ball? I… I’ve never been to one before. What if I embarrass myself?” Jake smiled, his confidence returning. “You could never embarrass yourself. And if you’re worried, I’ll be there to lead you. We could even go together… if you want.” Her cheeks flushed, and she nodded shyly. “Okay. I’d like that.” For the first time in what felt like forever, Jake saw a genuine smile on Mausi’s face. It was enough to make his heart race, and he couldn��t help but smile back. At that moment, amidst the pain and uncertainty, there was a flicker of hope—a reminder that even in the darkest times, light could still be found.

A/N: I'm back, so I'm really sorry this chapter is so short I wanted the ball part of the story to have its own moment hence why it will be another chapter I will be uploading it in a few hours. But yeah, hope you like this chapter, and unfortunately we are reaching the end of the story I think they are like 6–7 chapters left I think. remember to like, comment or weblog and tell me your thoughts. Thank you so much for the love and support on this story. Don't forget to comment, like and reblog, so I know if you are enjoying it.  Love you guys and thanks for reading  <3

[written-in-the-clouds]

part 1

notes: i am so eepy but i just finished editing this so here it is <3

To most, you seemed to be Quirkless. No visual differences, no flashy Emitter ability, just an average person.

Still, you didn’t have that toe joint.

You frowned at a bag of chocolate, trying to decide if the price was worth it. Faintly, the store bell tinkled as someone stepped inside. The day was darkening, blue fading to orange fading to black. You exhaled, replacing the bag on the shelf. There were four other customers in the store and the cashier, excluding the one who had just entered. Someone sucked in a sharp breath, and another shrieked. You lifted your head.

The new patron had neatly trimmed black hair, a clean-shaven face, and a small smile. He surveyed the room silently as people stepped back, pressing themselves to shelves, fumbling for their phones, an air of panic rising. You blinked, frowned. 

Someone murmured, “What is that?!” and that’s when you realized that this must be a Quirk. The stranger stepped toward the counter as the cashier paled and raised an arm in a vain attempt to shield themself. A stupid plan began to formulate in your head as you noted the fear-paralyzed figures around them. You sent a message to the first chat you had open and walked out from the shelves.

Anxiety prickled at your neck and you swallowed it down harshly. The well-groomed stranger turned to you, grin sharpening and then suddenly fading when you didn’t react.

“Bravery or foolishness?” he mused quietly, as if not expecting you to hear. “Everyone has different reactions to fear.”

“What are you talking about?” you replied immediately, and surprise flashed through his face. You stepped between him and the counter.

He tipped his head. “You can see me?”

You didn’t respond, instead asking, “What do they see?”

He raised his arms from his sides in a sweeping motion. “Whatever they fear most.” A smile crossed his lips again, and he bowed slightly with his arms still extended. “But I am certain that you do not fear me most.”

It was because of your Quirk, of course. Your Quirk was called Null. Quirks were useless against you – at least, the majority of Emitters and a few others. You saw this man’s true form. For a moment, you wondered what you would have seen. Yet, your Quirk could not be deactivated, and it was a thought you discarded.

“What do you want from this shop?” you asked.

“Money, of course,” he said smoothly. “Whatever reason my Quirk isn’t affecting you – You seem like a smart kid. Get out of my way.”

You took a shaky breath. “No, thank you.”

Whatever polite air surrounded this man sharpened in an instant. “Hm,” he said, taking a step closer. “Last chance. Don’t play hero, kid.”

“I’m not a hero,” you said. “But I think you should leave.”

He pulled out a thin, sharp blade from his coat. “You know,” he said, taking another step closer, “I generally don’t like to hurt kids.”

A knife is buried in your left pant pocket. You could feel it against your leg. Yet between the amount of time it would take you to reach it, and the distance to this stranger’s blade – you couldn’t risk it. Your hands were shaking too much, anyway.

He took another step, and you did something stupid.

You tackled him.

His legs, to be specific. He was taller, and the knife – you aimed for his legs to bring him to the ground. It wasn’t your smartest move, in hindsight. He immediately sliced the knife along your back, and you felt a shriek rip from your throat, the pain unexpected. It burned along your spine.

In a wave of animalistic instinct you bit his thigh, hard, and he grunted. The reaction spurred you on, and you hit and kicked and struggled to keep him on the ground with you. You felt more hot blood trickle down your neck, but adrenaline and desperation kept you from feeling the majority of the pain.

It bought you time, and that’s what you needed. The bell by the door rang. When you glanced up, you saw a blinding red light and a static pain spread through your skull and 

Your vision went black.

When you woke up again, you jerked to an upright position before a hand stopped you. 

“Don’t move too much,” the man advised in a quiet voice. When you blinked the spots from your vision, you recognized him immediately and flinched back. Eraserhead. He glanced over your shoulder. “Have you called the ambulance?”

“Ah– no, don’t call them,” you said quickly. You felt a bandage wrapped around your back and shoulders. “I can’t– uh. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. You still need medical attention, kid.” You stiffened, remembering what the stranger had called you. “What did you even do?”

“Uh.” You grinned sheepishly. “I kinda charged at him.”

“You what?” came a second voice, which quickly stepped into view. He was about your age, maybe a little younger, with messy indigo hair and deep eyebags. He wore a scarf — capture weapon, you corrected yourself — similar to Eraserhead’s. A hero trainee, almost certainly. “Why?”

“I didn’t think it out very well.”

“Clearly,” Eraserhead added dryly. 

“What else was I meant to do? Let him take the money?”

“That would have been preferable,” the villain said in a soft lilt, smiling, and the trainee with indigo hair glared at him. He was tied up carefully, with cuffs on his wrists. He looked away and sighed.

“You should have kept him distracted until the heroes arrived,” Eraserhead said. You frowned.

“I tried that,” you said. “He was the one who brought a knife out.”

Eraserhead sighed. “The police will be here in five minutes, the paramedics in…” he looked up to the trainee.

“Ten,” he replied. He shrugged. “There’s traffic.”

“Right. I won’t make you repeat your story twice, so let’s wait until the police arrive.”

The goggles covered the direction his eyes were facing, so you couldn’t tell who he was addressing. You nodded anyway, slightly dizzy.

When the police arrived, they took the stranger into the car and a detective spoke with you. At some point you both had moved outside the store, though you were still lightheaded and wavered slightly with each step. 

“I’m Tsukauchi Naomasa,” he said. “Walk us through what happened.”

“I’m [Name],” you replied. “I was shopping, and this guy walked in. I didn’t notice anything until people started freaking out. Um, I just thought… I don’t know. Something was weird. I texted my friend to call the police or something… and I, uh, I stepped out in front of them. He mumbled something to himself, and I replied to it, and he was surprised that I could see him.”

“Do you know why you could see him?” the detective interrupted. His brow was furrowed.

“Oh, right,” you said. “My Quirk. It’s called Null. It prevents other Quirks like that one from working on me.” 

“Mm,” Tsukauchi said, face relaxing. “Continue.”

“He told me to move out of the way so he could take the money, I guess, and I, I didn’t.” You grinned sheepishly. “I wasn’t really thinking straight. I was just thinking I need to hold him off until somebody shows up. And he pulled out a knife, and I tackled him.” Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn’t say anything. “And he cut me, and I just started, uh… it sounds so stupid now that I’m admitting it,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine,” Tsukauchi reassured. “We all do stupid things in high risk situations.”

“I just did anything I could to keep him down,” you said. “Biting and kicking and whatever. And then the heroes showed up, and—” you hesitated for a brief moment, glancing at Eraserhead. You had a theory that his Quirk, trying to cancel yours, had created a feedback loop of sorts that led to the static and your passing out. But if that was true, wouldn’t he have felt the effects, too? “I properly realized I was still bleeding and then I passed out, I guess,” you finished lamely.

“Hmm,” the detective said, but was interrupted by a man hurrying over.

“I heard someone was injured?” he asked, and you raised your hand slightly. He stepped over to them and Tsukauchi walked away, murmuring something to Eraserhead. “This might feel a little uncomfortable,” the healer warned, placing a hand on your back. 

“Ah,” you said, realizing what he was going to do. “Your quirk… won’t work. Mine cancels it out.”

He frowned, slightly, and didn’t move his hand before he must have tried and failed to use his quirk. “Well… you’re already bandaged. Let me check.”

After a moment of adjusting the bandages and advising you to be careful, you push yourself to your feet. You glanced quickly over to Tsukauchi and Eraserhead, who seemed to be deep in conversation. “Have a good night.” 

You speed-walked away, until the trainee stepped in front of you. “You should wait,” he said, looking as tired as you felt. “Tsukauchi…”

You gestured at the darkening sky. “I have to be back before sundown. My mom will be worried.”

“I can drive you home,” Tsukauchi said, glancing over. “I need to talk with your parents.”

You swallowed a groan. Your mother would almost certainly – and probably rightfully – chew you out for walking directly into harm’s way like that. Unfortunately, taking the ride was probably the best idea. You agreed, and got into the car with the detective. You checked your phone, and the message you had sent just before stepping out from the shelves.

sunnydays > call cops [address] villain

lavendereyes > what??

lavendereyes > they’re on their way

lavendereyes > sun? you alr?

The texts had stopped after that. You typed another message quickly.

sunnydays > fine now. only got lightly stabbed

lavendereyes > you what???

sunnydays > im fiiiine i got patched me up whatever

lavendereyes > ok but other than that are yoi fine

sunnydays > yeah

sunnydays > in the cop car going home

lavendereyes > ok, message me when you get home

sunnydays > alright

You slid their phone back into your pocket and leaned against the window. Tsukauchi was quiet, only looking back at you in the mirror a few times.

“That was brave, you know,” he said suddenly, and you stiffened.

“Not really,” you said. “It was stupid to attack him like that.”

“‘Brave’ and ‘stupid’ aren’t mutually exclusive.”

You snorted. “Fair enough.”

The city rushed by. The sky darkened further. The car slowed and pulled into the driveway, and you ran a hand through your hair. 

Your mother opened the door and came hurrying down the steps, up to the car. Tsukauchi stepped out of the car and you followed soon after.

“What happened?” she asked. 

Tsukauchi explained quickly, and a small frown settled on your mother’s face. “Well, at least you’re alright,” she settled on, eventually. 

Tsukauchi bowed slightly to you and your mother, and you quickly bowed back. “You seem like a good kid,” he said to you. “Just try not to get stabbed again.” He smiled, before waving slightly and climbing in his car to leave.

You walked over and hugged your mother, sighing into her hold. “You are alright, right?” she asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” you replied quietly. “Just… tired.”

“Let’s eat dinner, and then you can go to bed,” she said. You nodded, and you both went inside.

[ehlnofay]

Pax should have said no.

Damn it all, they should have said no. Should have said go to hell and fucked off back – stop contacting me, sort out your own shit – but they didn’t, fuck knows why, and now they’re stuck here.

(They know why. They know exactly why; absolutely anything would be better than fucking off back to Cyrodiil. What’s for them there?)

But there’s nothing worth staying for here either, and now she’s crammed in between strangers on a long table, everyone dressed in fabrics she’s never seen with dyes so saturated they seem almost gory, eating stuff that isn’t food and talking loud enough to make her want to hurl a glass into the wall. It’s bizarre. The woman next to her, ruddy-faced and bald, wears a headpiece that shines like the sun the Isles doesn’t have; the other side is taken up by a stranger in a bone-white porcelain mask who has not moved but to swill the wine around in their glass. There’s scarcely room for Pax’s chair. It all feels like such a baffling pantomime of aristocracy (she's known the real thing well enough – feasts and toasts and luxurious gifts she had no use for, and if she doesn’t stop thinking about it she actually will throw a glass), bright colours and rich settings and a god taking offerings at the head of the table.

At least, Pax thinks, no-one tries to talk to him; they’re too busy fawning over their lord. Which is probably to be expected; but it all feels so strange, so unsettling, the way they all lean in towards it like flowers turning to face the sun, like seaweed dragged at by the inescapable pull of the tides. They grow towards it through the cracks in the air, matter moving toward the inevitable centre, as if they can imagine nothing more than this.

(Even more unsettling is the way it responds in kind, listening attentively to anyone who speaks to it, leaning in as though to kiss them, as though to swallow them whole. All hell, why did Pax agree to this? Why did they come?)

(They should have told it to fuck off. Should have said no way, I don’t want to help you, don’t want to get involved in anything you’d need my help for. I don’t owe you anything. I don’t need anything from you. I don’t want anything to do with you. I’m done.)

(Pax is done. Pax is sick to death of all this shit; doesn’t want to deal with this, the vaguely described problems of a god that picks people apart like it’s unravelling a thick yarn shawl. Doesn’t want to deal with anything like this. He’s had his fill of gods.)

(Why is he still fucking here? Why did he agree to this? This is no better than eating in that weird fucking inn in town. This is no better than –)

(That’s a lie. It’s a bit better than Cyrodiil. Just as much a shithole, but it pulls the rug out from under him often enough that he doesn’t have time to think too much.)

“Not hungry?” says a prowling voice, coiling catlike into the plaits in their hair, and Pax jumps enough to jostle the masked bastard sitting ramrod straight next to him.

He looks up.

At the empty placemat across from him sits a figure veiled in gossamer, glittering in the glow of the lit-up lichen on the distant throne; the fabric of its endless shawls pulls apart at the ends, peeling away from itself, shedding patches like iridescent insect wings every time it shifts. If Pax squints, they can see through it to the grand marbled wall behind.

She glances back at the chair at the head of the table, where something lounges, eyes dripping gold, intricately carved cane laid across its knees; its too-many fingers are laced with the hand of a man whose gown blooms floral. Flatly, she says, “What the fuck?”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Sheogorath asks, pouting; she can hear it laughing down the other end of the table. “It’s a proper feast. We pulled out all the stops.”

Pax shifts their eyes away to peer down at their plate. “You have served me worms,” she says. She flicks the dish with a fingernail. “In jelly. With flowers.”

“Larva, actually,” Sheogorath replies. It’s still at the other end of the table. It doesn’t seem eager to explain this. When it smiles, the gossamer falls away; its whole face splits in half.

It’s all so fucking stupid. Pax takes a deep breath – in through the nose, ignore all the odd spiced smells, and out – and does not yell at it, or try to hit it, because she’s gotten herself into a situation where that’s not really an option, because she’s a fucking idiot. Why didn’t she just say no?

(She knows why.)

The Mad God’s teeth flash bright as the ornate silver cutlery. Its chair scrapes back from the table. “It melts in your mouth,” it tells her, eyes glittering, “but I won’t make you try it. Walk with me?”

The figure still sits at the head of the table, snatching something from someone’s plate, always, always laughing. Its limbs sprawl like tentacles, like the silken threads of a tapestry, to encompass the whole room. The dinner guests stare as though bewitched, bedevilled, beguiled. Not one of them is looking at Pax. If he were to drop dead with his face in the food his corpse would not be discovered until sunrise.

Pax sniffs and shoves his chair back from the table. He lets Sheogorath (the second Sheogorath – but it must be, what else could it be?) lead him through a narrow door into some winding hallway, the walls lined and rimed with ornate coloured-glass windows. (It’s so much quieter. Still as garishly bright, but Pax is getting the sense that that is inescapable, here; the clothes they wear, as crumpled and covered in travelling-grime as ever and startlingly out of place against the odd jagged finery of the dinner party, seem unimaginably dull in comparison. Everything seems unimaginably dull in comparison.) Outside the windows, they can catch glimpses of the city – its winding, lamp-lit streets, the jumbled mess of its architecture, the sky arcing above it like a child’s attempt at watercolours. Pax wants to smash it, tear it down.

There’s no sun here, but still it’s night. The sky has shifted to purple and black.

“Isn’t it nice?” says their companion; when they look back, it’s nothing more than a shifting impression in the stained-glass window, a series of hairline cracks. It still manages, somehow, to smile at them.

It’s not. The sky is a shadow and the flamboyance of the palace is scraping at their spine. “Sure,” Pax says flatly. When she flexes her fingers, the bruising staining the base knuckle of her thumb aches.

Sheogorath looks at her – an ancient man leaning on a stick, a flickering painting, a bloody corpse, a little girl in velvet-red skirts, a breath. In its mercurial shifting she catches the flowery blossom of the man at the table’s collar, an unpleasant glimpse of her own braided hair, the smell of sulphur. It tips its head. She can’t focus on it anywhere but for the eyes.

“You don’t like my dinner parties,” it announces, as though it’s a revelation, a tragedy; its body crumbles like sea cliffs slowly eroded by the ways. It’s annoying – bloody obnoxious, and incomprehensible, and kind of weird that it noticed, that it would even care. (She’s never liked dinner parties. Nobody ever commented on it before.)

I’ve had well enough of them, Pax could say, or no, I don’t like you, but it’s the fucking Mad God, Daedric Prince of – Pax doesn’t even know what, he’s never known much about this shit, only that it’s well worth avoiding. Prince of the mad and the missing and the foolish, of breaking and breaking and putting yourself back together backwards. She should have said no, but she didn’t, and who knows what would happen if she went back on that now?

It's slinking closer. All that stay static enough to make out are eyes and teeth.

“Pax, yes?” it says, soft-voiced – a hand lands on his arm, small and dry and shivering, the skin as thing as a mouldering leaf. “You have no obligations here. If you want to be on your own, be on your own. We’ve plenty of space for it.”

Pax’s eyes narrow. He does not jerk away from it.

In the light of the coloured sky, the coloured windows, its face is phantasmagorical. “If you don’t want to be here,” it continues – still so skin-pricklingly gentle – “then your hand will not be forced. I’ll speed your way home if you wish.”

They can’t help but twitch at that. It’s setting their teeth on edge. (It’s lying – has to be. After its ages of coaxing them in, meting out information, not telling them where they were until they were on its doorstep, it would not give them the chance to leave.) Rough, still covered in road-grime, Pax asks, “Why should I believe you?”

(None of them have ever given them the chance to leave.)

Sheogorath, a figure of hollow skin and bone, inclines its head. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Pax,” it says. Its eyes are wide and bulging, whites on full display like a frightened horse; it grins again. “Others might. But we’re not a monolith. We’re not even especially similar.”

Pax bites down on the flat edge of their tongue. “That doesn’t mean anything to me.”

The light coming in through the windows flickers. The Mad God turns to meet it.

“I’m the youngest,” it says, its voice glittering like mist on the air. “Did you know that? I don’t remember the world without you in it.” Its form spasms, volatile, wings and limbs and eyes like a snail’s on stalks sprouting and choking and subsiding back into its mass. “I’m closer to you than any. I understand, almost.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Pax repeats. She’s gritting her teeth, tonguing at her gums where two are missing. Are two devil-gods not enough to deal with for a lifetime? Is there really going to be more of this now, too?

Rolling through the air like smoke, the voice says, “It will.”

Pax presses purple-green knuckles to her mouth. Her teeth dig into the soft meat of her lip.

Sheogorath turns to face her, hair moving as though blown by the wind, as though tugged by the tides. It sighs. “You don’t believe me,” it says. Its tongue pokes through its teeth. “That’s perfectly fine. Clever, even. But if you want to leave, all you need to do is tell me so.” It pauses, then; the train of its strange, gnarled crown shifts over its shoulders when it moves its head. “Or just leave. The door is still open.”

“You’d be fine with me just leaving,” Pax rasps around his knuckle, “after weeks of not leaving me alone?”

(Of begging him to come, poorly-hidden agitation giving way to blatant franticness, half-swallowing the fear that choked its face in every mirror it spoke to him through. Of begging him still, after he got here, after he met it – begging in a roundabout manner, casual as anything, its every motion reeking of fear. Its abject terror when he turned to leave. You’ve come this far. Why not hear an old man out? Pax told it that it wasn’t an old man, that he didn’t give a shit either way, and it slid through a child, a monster, a sulphur-burned body coughing blood, his own shuddering form in armour he hasn’t seen in months, and it said please.)

(Regained its composure, its gentleman’s face, immediately afterward. But it – the Mad God, unknowable, inconsolable – said please. Pax still doesn’t know what to do with that.)

The Mad God, now, shrugs. Taps at the hairline cracks in the stained glass windows. “I’d prefer you didn’t,” it says, one pair of hands braiding something intricate into its beard. The hand on the glass slips down. “I told you. I do need a champion.”

“And I told you,” Pax bites, something aching and ugly surging in their gut, “not to call me that again.”

A smile, bloody-mouthed and beaming. “But we will abide,” says Sheogorath, and digs its fingers into the cracks of the stone. One brick slides loose, mortar dug up under its nails. It offers it up.

Pax licks their teeth and takes it.

The brick shivers, momentarily – crumbles, in their hand, like sand slithering through their fingers, and left in their palm is a hardy slip of bone. Spiked and sprawling, carved with intricate patterns; it arranges itself around an oval of empty space, the perfect size for four sharp-knuckled fingers.

“You can always leave,” the Mad God tells them, and for a moment it does look so very young and strangely, staggeringly hopeful. “But give it a chance. I think you could love the Isles, if you choose to.”

[lanayrutower]

ALSO does no one find it even a little weird how the old Zelda games firmly state that it's Hylia who built/was the first ruler of Hyrule (the king is just. sort of there), and then totk comes in and is like ahaaa no it's actually rauru who's so special and godlike actually. yeah, his wife was actually his priestess who once served him and then died stupidly because she wasn't paying attention. mmhm, she was also the reason ganon was able to take over hyrule and be super duper evil btw. uwu.

[lululeighsworld]

and for Gunter's birthday fic this year I finally ended up writing Leigh's love confession to him; I promise his birthday is relevant!! 💜❤️

Read the story here on AO3

[malleleothreesome]

YOUR MALLEUS POST IS JUST!!!!! AGDKFFLSVFL!!!! WHO KNOWS HOW MANY TIMES I RE-READ THAT THING BUT IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT!!!! 😫😭👌🖤💚

I'm so late to this but thank you so much Knight!! 🖤💚🖤💚 I'm so happy you enjoyed Blindfolded Malleus... I was so excited for you to read it, and I'm very happy it lived up to the hype and anticipation!!! Truly, I am so honored and grateful that you would re-read something so long 🥹 it amazes me how supportive you are!! I hope I can continue to write things that you enjoy! One day in the [regretfully] far future I swear to you that I will put out an Idia fic just for you hehehe. I'm so overwhelmed by the amount of things I am excited to write, but I guess that is a wonderful problem to have! I only wish I had more time in the day to write, but alas, such is life. Why the fUCk am I writing so formal right now daiohssadoi;hdSAO not me saying BUT ALAS. SUCH IS LIFE????? It is so.

I'm actually taking a TWELVE DAY vacation from work starting on the 22nd so I might actually do a little request event where people can send me like kink prompts or something. I think that'll be fun!

Okay and FINE I'll do some fluff prompts too for the fluff people but please don't judge my fluff too harshly, I'm still learning!!! For some reason smut just comes naturally dhaDSAHIDDASijdsan I'll start gathering some prompts and we will do a little ask game or something.

📣 By the way FELLOW HONEST THIGH RIDING ANON if you SEE this first of all, ONCE AGAIN: I wish to express my undying devotion to you and your exceptional thought process. I am positively frothing at the mouth over your request and I am PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE I am finally making good progress and it WILL be out soon. We WILL make him cum in his pants. We WILL make him cry, whimper, and moan.

[magical-girl-coral]

Okay, what is the Internet's brilliant idea of how to stop the I/p conflict

*checks notes*

You people are planning on boycotting an entire fucking country?

[dbphantom]

you know if you guys voted for stretch armstrong i probably would have shut up a lot sooner tonight

[reiverreturns]

some of the popular reactions to the ted lasso finale are a perfect example of why big fandoms are sometimes not all that fun tbqh

[oumaheroes]

I may be biased but of course ‘Odd Socks’ is my favourite story of yours 💖 (and probably my favourite thing I’ve ever read in general) I always go back to it if I’m feeling down or I’m just peckish for some scotfra and it always leaves me so satisfied and the ending always makes me so giddy with happiness. You capture everything so beautifully, it honestly feels like magic idk how you do it but you have a way of telling stories that’s so immersive and atmospheric and I can imagine them so vividly in my head being all in love and married and ahhh! I am going to go back and reread it in a minute ajhsjshsj one of my favourite parts of your writing is the dialogue, it’s such a hard thing to get right and you do it so flawlessly! I’ve said this before but reading the conversations between Arthur and Francis is always so fun, and I just love them in this fic 🥺 you have one of the most interesting and dynamic portrayals of them I’ve ever read and it’s probably my favourite ❤️

Phi... Phi 😭😭

I don't care if you're biased, this is such a lovely thing to hear and i want to squeeze you really tight ❤️ Odd socks was all for you, especially the dancing scene!!

[kurooh]

HORNY BRAINROT ☆ MY HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. featuring various characters and a mix of thirsty thoughts!

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, f! & gn! reader, oral sex, threesome, reader’s gender isn’t described much

xoxo, juno. this is nsfw, not tiktok brainrot !

whenever you’re making out with katsuki, he makes sure to guide your hand towards his hard cock. his hand grips yours as he drags your fingers along the outline, pulling back from your lips to huff out something like “fuck— look how hard you’re makin’ me.. all for you, babe.”

eijirou takes a while to cum when you’ve got him in your mouth; whenever he notices the tears cascading down your cheeks and the way you’re starting to slow down, he’s always gently encouraging you to keep going. the longer the blowjob, the louder the moans — to keep you motivated, he gets a little whiny: “oh, s-shit, just like that, baby..”

walking in on tamaki stroking his cock to you is nothing less than beautiful. at first, he’s embarrassed and rushes to zip up his pants until you grab his wrist and stop him, encouraging him to put on a show for you. and god, he absolutely does. he gives your favorite parts of his body all the attention, arches his back for you, cries out your name like a mantra. just before he cums, he asks for some form of permission.

izuku’s strong, using one hand to keep you steady as you ride his face while the other works his cock. facesitting is his favorite thing to do with you because he gets to wrap your soaked, sticky panties around himself and use them to jerk off all while drinking you in.

cockwarming in the morning with keigo after he’s been gone a week on a mission; it very quickly turns into needy, desperate fucking while hands roam bodies and pull one another close. (he started it by kissing and sucking at your neck.)

bouncing on denki’s cock until he goes entirely dumb, and telling him he better not cum yet until you tell him to. of course, he’s too far gone to even look at you directly or hold onto you; tears gather in his eyes as he whimpers, begging you to let him cum inside.

mirror sex with hitoshi, who yanks you back by the hair whenever you look away out of embarrassment. “who’s that pretty girl?” he asks as he fucks you so hard you can barely even stutter out an answer.

it’s easy for dabi to get a little mean; after countless orgasms and endless rounds of fucking in every position he can come up with, you’re drooling and moaning freely. “what was that, doll? c’mon, use your words.” (he’s making it impossible to do so.)

admitting that you need some help learning how to ‘do sex’ to your best friend shōto is embarrassing, but he’s so eager to show you that you forget all about it. as you lay beneath him, clinging to his shoulders while your nails dig crescents into his skin, all you can both think about is the fact that neither of you took action sooner.

“you think you could handle us at the same time?” dabi scoffs, while you’re sandwiched between him and prohero hawks, who’s kissing you as he spreads your legs so you’re ready to take both of their cocks. “don’t worry,” he whispers, gold eyes glinting with the same hunger in dabi’s. “we’ll take care of you, baby.”

[tojisun]

Okay, now I need something about bf!logan and his girl making a porno (bonus points if wade finds out after the show they put on for him and that man is willing to RISK IT ALL to see that sex tape😩🤣)

cw: porn link; f!reader; smut; consensual filming during sex; slight sexting at the end // divider by @/plutism!

this is definitely the porno they were making <3

logan has you on your knees, your ass dimpling with every one of his greedy caresses, his heavy hand kneading your flesh. you’re whining to be creampied—to be bred—and logan indulges you with a quiet chuckle because you’re so adorable like this, all needy and demanding, babbling nothing but nonsense because he’s fucked you to the point of incoherence.

you jut out your chin at his croon. he tells you to do it yourself if you really want his cum; says that you’ve got to show him how much you need it.

“an’ here i thought i was bein’ a gentleman,” logan says, sighing in that what-can-you-do? tone like he hadn’t been fucking you so hard, you were sure that the condom was on the brink of ripping.

you grumble, rolling your eyes even mid-tears, before reaching back to where he’s got his cock rutting along the cleft of your ass. you give it a stroke, giggling breathily to yourself at its sheer girth and weight, before sliding your hand down to the pinched tip and tugging.

logan moans, and it rumbles deep, sending tingles to rise from the tips of your toes to the base of your neck. he sounds just a little too excited, and you wonder how you must look as you reach for the rubber, tugging it off the expanse of his cock. do you look desperate, the camera capturing the way you’re shivering like you’re on cum-withdrawals? or do you look like the brat that you are, whining how sex is not enough until logan’s pumping you full of his sperm?

god, the thought that this moment is being immortalized makes you clench at nothing, your hole puckering as it waits to be filled.

the condom comes off with a pop, the rubber snapping off and into itself. it sounds so lewd and dirty, like the two of you are really starring in a corny porno, and it fills your cheeks with warmth as your need wanes in the face of your shyness.

you fling the condom to the side, before burrowing your face on the pillows, as though that alone can hide the palpable hunger rippling from you. logan laughs at your reaction like he’s not softly humping his cock between your thighs, rutting it along the wet mess he’s made out of your cunt.

“y’ready, bub?” logan asks, still giddy with his laugh. you grumble a reply, before jutting your head in a stilted nod.

he taps his weeping cock along your folds, testing, and you shuffle in your impatience. you feel the itch exploding, the need to be stuffed bloating, but logan continues to tease and god, pleasepleaseplease—

“i’ve got you, darl,” he grunts, then he’s pushing in, steady and filling, and, and—

the moan that’s ripped from your throat sounds foreign, like you’re a damn wounded animal. you don’t even get to adjust to his width—pussy lips going taut at his thickness—before logan’s drawing his cock out until all that’s left is the head. there’s a bated breath that you two share, leaving you suspended in anticipation, then he’s bullying it back in.

you flop on the bed, all useless now like you’ve got your strings cut loose. logan doesn’t seem to mind, not with the consistent ringing slaps of his pelvis meeting your ass echoing in your quaint room. god, your brain’s being scrambled right now, you’re sure, because you can’t even think of anything but logan—

loganloganlogan.

you’re already cross-eyed by the time he sprays his first load inside you.

.

wade gets a five second clip from logan’s number. the thumbnail is just a blur of colours and wade’s interest is piqued because logan rarely reaches out to him—a video is just unthinkable.

he was expecting many things—that the video is the one of deadpool being broadcasted on national television with the words “hero or criminal?” after he’s accidentally set the robber’s van on fire, or that the video is an accidental recording of logan’s butt because that wolverine suit was tight and wade can’t even think where logan must keep his phone with him.

but this—

wade wasn’t expecting this.

it was a video of you—wade’s not even embarrassed to admit that he’s memorized the way you look from all angles; what? one doesn’t get a show of wolverine fucking his girl without gaining a new hyperfixation—reaching for logan’s monster cock. wade breathes in sharply as he watches you reach for the condom before tugging it off with a filthy, filthy pop. the video cuts into a next scene of logan relentlessly fucking you hard; the audio is a mess of squeaks and slaps, but also the wet squelches of logan’s cock fucking in-and-out of your gaping cunt.

two things:

1. that’s fucking hot.

2. that video has clearly been tampered with; it was edited to show the barest of the highlights.

this was a conscious decision, with deliberate efforts. this was personal.

an invitation.

wade rubs one… okay, fine.

wade rubs three out before he’s running back to that apartment he’s daydreamed about. mid-parkour, another notifcation comes in. wade falls, because of course he does, but while he waits for his ankle to mend itself back into its socket, his eyes devour the new message.

> darl wants to know if you’re in.

wade sends a dick pic as a reply.

wade busting a fat nut behind tim hortons because he’s patriotic like that

(ext)

[largishcat]

I’m not sure exactly how to articulate it but—there is this bizarre base assumption i see from people discoursing about children’s media, and that’s the assumption that children are somehow unfamiliar with negative emotions. Like, maybe you’ve managed to completely forget your entire life before you turned eighteen, but kids spend a lot of time being hurt, and scared, and angry. A lot of people had terrible fucking childhoods, and a lot of kids are having terrible fucking childhoods right now. When i was a child, and i read books where bad things happened to kids, that was in no way shocking to me, i already knew bad things happened to children. It made me feel more connected to those stories, not less, and it made it more impactful when those child characters overcame it all in the end. That’s important for children. A lot of them are in desperate need of a little hope, and they aren’t going to get it from nothing stories with no conflict. They put conflict in children’s media for a reason

Also i see some of you handwringing over child protagonists going through, like, the most basic hero’s journey. Please, for the love of god, realize that you as an adult are going to understand children’s media differently than the actual kids it’s intended for. Because you’re all grown up now, you aren’t going to be able to relate to a child protagonist. You’re going to see a child in danger. The children the story is meant for are going to see a kid like them who is able to face hardship and triumph

[yuujispinkhair]

Rough Mission -> Rough Sex

You always offer Yuuji comfort with your hugs, your kisses, and your words of reassurance. But on the nights when he comes home covered in blood and with that strange look in his eyes, you know that there is only one thing that helps him feel ok again: Sex. And not the sweet love-making kind, but the feral, rough-fucking kind, where Yuuji can let all his pain and anger out.

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut Word Count: 1k Warnings: 18+, smut, rough sex, creampie, squirting, biting. Yuuji and reader are in a loving relationship and everything happens with reader's consent. All characters are of age. Divider by @/cafekitsune

The first time it happens, Yuuji tries to flee from you, walking past you with that haunted look on his face, and disappearing in the bathroom, where you find him a minute later, slumped against the wall, breathing harshly, with his eyes pressed shut, and his pants pushed down, his fat throbbing cock in his hand, jacking off furiously in a desperate attempt to get his mind off the horrible mission.

"Yuuji, what are you doing? Why are you here all alone? Let me..."

Golden eyes fly open and stare at you with a mix of pain and despair and something else. A feral glint you have never seen in Yuuji's eyes before. Even his voice sounds different, a low, barely restrained growl,

"Please, stay away... I don't think I can hold back when I'm in this state. Please, baby."

And you realize what the problem is. Oh, sweet Yuuji. Such a hero. So caring and selfless to a fault. He's scared to touch you because he's scared of his own strength. Scared to be too rough with you now that he's losing control.

But you're having none of it. You don't run. You walk over to the boy you love. You tilt your head to look up at him and cup his cheek tenderly while your other hand wraps around his rock-hard cock and pumps it in your fist, milking fat globs of pre-cum out of Yuuji's swollen, dark-pink tip as you tell him,

"I love you, baby. Just fuck all your troubles into me. I promise you it's ok. Please don't hold back."

And Yuuji growls. He really growls, and you know his resolve is slipping.

He fucks you hard on the bathroom floor, rutting into you like an animal in heat, growling and sobbing while he presses you down with his heavy body, taking you over and over again until he has fucked it all out, has fucked all his pain and anger into your spasming cunt.

After that night, he doesn't try to run from you anymore. He comes to you eagerly, seeking the comfort of your body. Seeking the sweet relief he can find in your arms and in your tight pussy.

The moment Yuuji walks into your apartment, you can already see when a mission was a rough one. His golden eyes are on you with that feral glint in them, his broad chest heaving, and his hands balled into fists as he strides toward you like a tiger on the prowl. So strong, so buff, so deadly. You are so wet for him that you don't just soak your panties but also your pajama shorts.

"Come here, Yuu. Fuck me, baby. Be as rough as you need."

He is on you in a split second, growling in the back of his throat as he presses his lips against yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. You still gasp anytime Yuuji lets you get a taste of his superhuman strength and speed. When he rips your clothes off, tearing at them with his strong hands in his urgent need to get you naked and sink his needy cock into your tight cunt and fuck all his anger into you.

His clothes follow a moment later, dropping to the floor in ripped pieces, exposing Yuuji's tall, buff body to you. His buff muscles are flexed, veins standing out from all the adrenaline still pumping through his body. He looks even bigger than usual, so strong, so feral, so fucking sexy.

You moan as Yuuji manhandles you, his large, strong hands flipping you onto your stomach and pushing your head down. A hard slap lands on your ass, and you hear Yuuji growl, followed by a hoarse,

"Fuck! I need you, baby, need to fuck you hard. Please... can I please?"

His fat cock is leaking pre-cum all over your ass in his need to fuck you. He wouldn't even have to ask. You will always give him anything he needs. You push yourself on your knees, ass up, face down, Yuuji's favorite position, offering yourself to him, moaning his name, and telling him to take you as hard as he needs.

And he does.

The growled "Thank you" has barely left Yuuji's lips when he already slams his thick needy cock deep into your soaked cunt with a brutal snap of his hips that makes both of you cry out loudly. Yuuji apologizes even while he grabs your hips and pulls you toward him, rolling his hips against you, fucking you open with hard, deep thrusts that knock the air out of you.

And from now on, it's rough fucking in the most primal way. The headboard is hitting the wall loudly with every hard snap of Yuuji's hips. His grunts and sobs fill the room, just like the wet noises of his fat cock pistoning in and out of your creamy cunt.

It's rough, it's loud, it's messy. Yuuji doesn't hold back anymore, and neither do you. You cream all over his cock several times, shameless and eager, unable to stop yourself from squirting when his swollen cockhead overstimulates your g-spot and the rough slaps of Yuuji's heavy balls against your swollen clit make you keen.

And he cums in you over and over again, not even pulling out in between, cock staying hard all the time because of his insane stamina, fucking you rough into the mattress while his large hands hold you in place and your name falls from his lips like a prayer.

You are both in a frenzy. Both like two animals in heat. Chasing one orgasm after the next.

You push yourself up, reaching frantically behind you to grab Yuuji's hair and moan his name with a voice hoarse from all the loud moaning and squealing, growling just like him as you give yourself over to the most primal need, screaming his name when he rams his fat, angry cock even deeper into you.

Yuuji's muscular arms wrap around you, his large, calloused hands kneading your tits roughly while he fucks you hard. And you urge him on, so eager to make him nut again, to make him forget anything else but the feeling of cumming in you and pulsing his hot seed into your tight cunt.

"Yes, baby, like that, oh god! Fuck me harder, Yuuji! Fuck it all into me, baby!"

Yuuji's teeth close around your shoulder, biting you just like he bites his enemies in the heat of battle. Leaving a mark in the shape of his teeth that you will carry for the rest of your life. He growls and sobs, desperate and horny, even as his hot tears drip down onto your naked body, running down between your tits that jiggle from Yuuji's hard thrusts.

"Fuck! Fuck yes! Thank you, baby, thank... fuck!! Gonna cum again!"

You feel him throb in you, filling you with another thick load of his hot cum, and you follow him a second later. Your cunt clenches wildly around Yuuji's fat, veiny cock, gushing over him and spraying your squirt all over the bed.

You mewl weakly as Yuuji finally slumps against you, his firm pecs and abs pressing against your sweaty skin, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you, this time in a loving embrace. His tall, muscular body embraces you, and his warm lips are on your neck, trailing tender kisses over the fresh bite mark he left, offering his love and care to you now that he feels better.

And you kiss him sweetly, moaning at the feeling of your cunt pulsing around Yuuji's gradually softening cock. There's a tender smile on Yuuji's face when he tells you he loves you. And you caress his hair and tell him you'll always be there for him. Any way he needs you. It's ok. Rough mission, rough sex.

FERAL YUUJI DRIVES ME FERAL TOO 💗💗 I love seeing him fight and get angry, but it also makes me yearn so much for him and want to comfort him. So yeah, he could get anything he needs, anytime he needs and as often as he needs it. I am so in love aaahh 💗

I hope you liked this horny little story about comforting Yuuji with sex ;) Please let me know what you think and scream with me about our fave hero!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[tomboy014]

But if Batman won't adopt Danny... who will?

Starfire, and she is all over her new little brother!

Shortly after establishing the Teen Titans, Robin (Dick) introduces “Phantom” to the group, because seriously, he’s not introducing him as “Danny.”  Kinda defeats the purpose of a secret identity when you use your name in your superhero moniker.  And shows Phantom his room.

Robin’s actual goal is to get Phantom to join the Titans, but even taking short cuts through the Ghost Zone, Jump City is still a good ways away from Amity Park, and he has parents, so… It’s still a nice gesture and all, and Phantom will come visit, but no.

Still, he’s never met other teens who are heroes in their own right like he is, so he’s excited to meet Robin’s new team.  The other Titans think it’s a little weird for this not-member to have his own room in the Tower, but the place is huge, and Robin trusts him, so it’s fine.  It’s a bit awkward at first as they’re all still getting used to each other, but Phantom quickly makes friends with all of them.

But it’s his friendship with Starfire that grows first and fastest.  As soon as he finds out she’s an alien from another planet, he latches on and must know everything.  Starfire more than welcomes the attention. While she knows the Titans care for her, they’re not always… receptive to the traditions and customs of her culture. Phantom, on the other hand, is enraptured as she tells him about her culture, her holidays, the planets she’s been to, everything.

So she asks if he’d be interested in learning Tamaranean? Yes! 100%! Absolutely! Phantom picks up the language quickly and returns the favor by helping Starfire with her English. While the ability to absorb language through lips is handy, it’s by no means perfect, and Phantom helps her with things like contractions, slang, idioms, etc.

It also helps that after a couple sparring sessions with each other, Phantom and Starfire realize just how durable their partner is.  For Starfire, the people and things on Earth can be so delicate. And for Phantom, if he doesn’t watch himself and hurts a human too badly, it’s just more justification to call him an “evil ghost” that should be ripped apart molecule by molecule. Both are thrilled to finally be able to fight all out again without worrying about the consequences if they lose. And Starfire also uses it to teach Phantom some Tamaranean martial arts for aerial combat so maybe he’ll stop crashing into so many walls.

But what really changes the relationship is the Body Swap incident (not to be confused with the Freaky Friday incident). Similar to what happened with the Puppet King in Switched, Phantom and Starfire switch bodies while fighting an enemy.  Unlike what happened in Switched, Phantom and Starfire and two teen powerhouses with green energy powers triggered by emotions. And the emotional triggers they use are in the same ballpark. Starfire’s “unbridled joy of flight” to fly is very similar to how Phantom revels in the pure freedom of flight he feels. Both get angry when they use blasts. It’s very much a “if you believe in it, you can do it” kind of power set. Starfire can’t really figure out Phantom’s more ghostly abilities like invisibility or intangibility, but they very quickly adapt to each other’s shared powers on the fly during battle.  But there’s one power Starfire wants to use against the hordes of minions that Phantom won’t share the trigger for: the Ghostly Wail.  He tries to tell her it’s not a good move, that it’ll use up too much power, it should only be used as a last resort, it’ll cause too much collateral damage, etc., but Starfire wants to know, and eventually he tells her.

“T-terror… and desperation.”

Starfire rushes to give Phantom the biggest hug ever because those are such horrible feelings, and she doesn’t want to imagine what conditions must have led to him developing such a power because no one should have to feel such feelings. He is right; and that is not a power she needs to use to win this battle.  The minions are defeated, the villain is forced into a temporary retreat, and the Teen Titans return to the Tower to regroup and plan.

However, Starfire doesn’t know how to power through and hold onto Phantom’s ghostly form, and as soon as the adrenaline from the fight wears off, rings of white light spread out of her middle, and Phantom turns back into Danny in the middle of the living room.

But more importantly, everyone needs to get out of the way RIGHT NOW because while Phantom can ignore his biological needs for days, Danny can’t, and Starfire has never had to pee this badly ever in her whole life and everyone needs to MOVE, PLEASE! as she rushes into the nearest bathroom.

Phantom/Danny is now panicking, because even as an alien, he’s pretty sure she’s bound to notice that some bits of male anatomy that should be there are… missing.  He’s begging her, through the door in Tamaranean, not to tell anyone about his secret.  He’s not ready to come out yet, and he’s honestly pretty scared he’s about to lose her friendship, too.  Starfire doesn’t really care. So long as you’re a strong warrior, Tamaraneans don’t care what’s going on in someone’s pants, and she’s just relieved she didn’t have to figure out different plumbing while in his body.  Starfire opens the door.  While she knows that the people of Earth are not always as understanding, Danny need not fear her.  She will not tell anyone he's trans until he is ready to tell them himself and supports him and goes in for a hug.

Except you haven’t washed your hands; gross!  They both laugh it off, but when Starfire goes to wash her hands, the water freezes.  The cold energy in Danny’s core is building, and Starfire doesn’t know how to let it out.  They need to switch back to their own bodies soon, or Danny’s body, and Starfire, might not survive.  A little more training so Starfire can turn back into Phantom, and the Titans are ready for the final act, take down the final villain and Starfire and Phantom are back in their own bodies. 

But after that, Phantom is no longer Starfire’s friend.  Danny is her little brother, and she tells him her name is Koriand’r, or Kor’i for short.

<<Prev Next>>

[loveanddeepthroat]

can i mc reader and sylus where mc ends up in hospital after a mission gone wrong and sylus shows up but she wants him to leave in case someone sees him there

Careless

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - You landed yourself in the hospital overnight after a mix up at HQ had you fighting too many Wanderer’s alone. You’re already bummed about being stuck at Akso, so the feeling of dread when Sylus turns up unexpectedly only adds to your unease.

Word Count - 2.3k

Warnings - Set in a hospital. Angst and fluff.

The incessant beeping of medical machinery echoing throughout the ward was getting to your sore head.

Akso Hospital was rammed full of casualties and emergencies, seeing as it was a Friday night. You felt a bit out of place amongst the partygoers and adventurous folk who had taken their fun a little too far.

In your opinion, you didn’t really need to be here. The eggplant coloured bruise on the right side of your forehead definitely looked a lot worse than it felt, but the doctors weren’t buying your claims that you weren’t in any pain.

Likely because you were wincing when you’d said it.

A night under their watch was what the doctor ordered, and it wasn’t up for discussion. You were just relieved that Doctor Zayne was working away for a week. He’d have checked you in indefinitely and scheduled an hour long lecture on why you needed to be more careful.

A mix up at HQ had the system only requesting that you attend a spontaneous Wanderer attack in Linkon Library. Just one had been reported, but seven of the ruthless bastards had accosted you the minute you stepped foot in the evacuated building.

Confident that you could handle them, you didn’t bother calling in for more Hunters. As it turned out, that confidence was misplaced, and the last thing you remembered before blacking out was a loud screeching sound. You had no idea what it was, but it hadn’t been important in your unconscious state.

When you eventually awoke in the hospital, Jenna had been hanging over you, immediately giving you the third degree for continuing alone. You should’ve known that the alert for only your assistance had been a mistake in the system, and you should’ve insisted that someone accompany you no matter what it had said.

She made sure to drill that into your head more than once.

Admittedly, you were glad to see the back of her once she had finally left. Your head was starting to throb with the volume of her voice, and all you wanted was the bliss of being unconscious again.

It was late now, and you were exhausted. Sleep was looking to be impossible tonight, however. There were several other patients on the same ward, all admitted with varying ailments. The injured man opposite you had done nothing but stare coldly from the moment he was wheeled in in a full leg cast.

You tried to speak to him. You offered him a polite smile, which was met with a sneer. Whatever his problem with you was, it was beginning to get on your nerves.

You just wanted to go home.

“Miss,” a softly spoken nurse greeted as she approached your bed. “There’s a visitor here to see you.”

You frowned, wondering if you heard her correctly over the hustle and bustle of the ward. It was well past visiting hours, and you couldn’t think of anyone other than your colleagues who knew that you were even at the hospital.

The man with the broken leg frowned, too. “What? She gets special treatment because she’s a so-called hero? I should get visiting rights, too!”

“Would you like me to let him in?” The nurse asked, ignoring the grumbling patient.

Him. That didn’t exactly narrow things down.

“Uhh,” you faltered, a little unsure. You didn’t want to cause any issues with the other patients. “Are you sure?”

The nurse nodded and smiled, though it looked a bit forced. It almost seemed like she was desperate for you to say yes to your mystery visitor.

“Okay,” you finally agreed. 

The look of relief on her face was not lost on you. She quickly hurried away to retrieve whoever came to see you, leaving you to endure the displeasure from the man opposite.

“I used to be a mailman, you know? If it weren’t for me, people wouldn’t have had their mail. Do I get special treatment, though? No, of course not. You Hunters get all the glory and adoration. And I’ll tell you another thing—”

“You’ve told her plenty.”

Prominent footsteps sounded from the doorway, the atmosphere immediately becoming heavy and tense. You almost choked on absolutely nothing at the sight of him.

Sylus.

Your eyes flared, heart hammering against your ribcage like a drum. He couldn’t be here. The risk was far too great.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the grumpy man sneered back, looking him up and down, “…vampire.”

It was a colourful insult, and one that made your unwelcome companion chuckle. “If you’ll excuse us,” he began, the swirling red vines of his Evol appearing to drag the man’s cubicle curtain to a close at a leisurely pace. “Mailman.”

To your relief, there was no backlash from the irritated patient across the room. Although that did make you wonder if he wasn’t retaliating by his own choice, or if Sylus had silenced him somehow. The latter wouldn’t have surprised you.

“What on earth are you doing here?!” you hissed quietly. “You can’t be here, Sylus.”

Crimson eyes didn’t meet yours, his cold gaze set only on the bandages around your head as he approached your bedside, closing your curtain behind him. He didn’t quite look like himself. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, green and blue veins prominently making an appearance.

“I’ll think twice before taking advice from a woman who was very recently knocked unconscious amidst a 7v1 Wanderer fight,” he rebuked monotonously. 

You scoffed. “I’m fine, if that’s why you came. Feel free to go back to—”

“Fine?” His face quickly turned from emotionless to severely unamused as he cut you off sharply. “That’s quite the contradiction, sweetie.”

You raised an eyebrow barely high enough for him to see your questioning expression. The gesture hurt, which wasn’t helping your case. “To what?”

He dragged a plastic chair towards your bed before sitting down, his ankles crossed in front of him. You couldn’t really read his demeanour. He almost seemed cross with you.

“To what I saw from Mephisto,” he responded tightly.

Mephisto. 

That explained the screeching you heard before you slipped into unconsciousness. “And what exactly was Mephisto doing there?”

Sylus merely shrugged, offering nothing verbal in response. The lackadaisy gesture did nothing but piss you off. You’ve told him countless times to stop sending Mephisto out to keep tabs on you, and each time it seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

He clearly was not pleased with you, but you weren’t stupid. He was here because you had concerned him. Sylus was a busy man, especially at this time of night. He wouldn’t have come just to berate you with words that could’ve been put into a text message.

Not that you knew where your phone was.

The atmosphere between you both fell into silence, only the sounds of medical machinery filling in the lack of conversation. You didn’t really know what to say to him, and he wasn’t typically the type to lose his words. But it was clear to see that he didn’t know what to say, either.

After a long moment, he cleared his throat, his hands flexing in his lap. “I told you those guns of yours were pathetic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my guns,” you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.

“So it’s a skill issue?”

You glared harshly at him, flinching noticeably as you did. You weren’t sure what was bothering you more, the pain in your head or the mood that Sylus was so clearly in. 

His features softened ever so slightly as he recognised your pain. Still, that didn’t stop him from being an asshole. “It’s one or the other, kitten.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. If there was one thing you didn’t want Sylus to think of you as, it was weak. You weren’t sure why you cared so much, but you did.

“I suppose my guns are a little on the outdated side,” you murmured begrudgingly.

He smirked, his hands finally relaxing a little in his lap. The awkward atmosphere was slowly fading, which you were grateful for. You didn’t want to pry into his mind and make things worse again.

You buried your head a little further into the pillow beneath your sore head, letting your eyes fall shut for a moment. Fatigue was starting to settle in your body, almost dragging you into a swift sleep before your chilly hand was captured in a warm embrace.

Your eyes shot open again, finding Sylus out of his seat and leaning over you. His eyes were a bit wider than usual. “Have they checked you for a concussion?” 

“Yeah,” you told him gently. The close proximity had you flustered. “I’m a little concussed, but I’m allowed to sleep.”

His brows drew together slightly as he studied you. You’ve both had these strange little moments before, when his mask slips away just enough to see his true feelings.

“I’ll be fine,” you whispered in reassurance. “You should go, Sylus.”

He shook his head, his hand tightening slightly over yours. It looked like an effort, but he managed to smirk at you again. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

Beneath that facade of humour, he was a little bit wounded. You wouldn’t point it out, but you could see it. He was a stubborn bastard who wasn’t going to let you push him away, but he also didn’t like that you were trying to push him away.

It wasn’t as if you wanted him to go. Your relationship with him was…complicated.

Complicated in the sense that you weren’t in a relationship, but he had a habit of establishing a level of intimacy between you both that you weren’t blind to. Good morning and goodnight texts, constant invites to events as his plus one with no other reason than to be beside him, and random gifts left on your doorstep so often that your elderly neighbour recently asked if you were ‘getting some.’

A relationship with him would be very difficult to maintain. You both come from entirely different worlds that just could not merge. No matter how much you desired him, you had to maintain your composure.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” you sighed. “I just don’t like how careless you’re being by showing up here. Some people do worry, you know.”

He slowly lowered his loom over you so that his nose was just inches away from yours. You couldn’t help but swallow, feeling his steady breath on your lips as he spoke. It was intimidating and yet so intimate that you didn’t know whether to cower or cut him off with a kiss you never knew you wanted. 

“You don’t think I’m worried about you?” he drawled in a rather serious manner.

“That’s not what I—”

“Do you not realise how it looked through Mephisto’s eyes when you were walloped a great distance across a library and crumpled to the floor like a lifeless body.” His teeth were gritted in his mouth, the word ‘body’ coming out tightly like his tongue was rejecting the word. “You’re not the only person who is worried here. Do not brand me incapable of such feelings.”

Your mouth went a little dry, tears threatening to invade your eyes. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in his worry, and you hadn’t meant for it to come across that way.

“I just don’t want you to risk your freedom for me,” you whispered shakily.

He lifted his hand from where it was holding him up beside your free hand, carefully moving some strands of your hair that had fallen over your bandages. 

“I’d risk it all for you.”

He had never said such a thing to you in all the time you’d been acquainted. You knew that he would carry out every need you might have of him. You knew that he would listen to you sit and ramble on and on about anything, never interrupting you. You knew that he cared about you.

But you were still in the dark when it came to the extent of that care.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he murmured.

Thankfully, you caught yourself before you were about to shake your sore head. “Just…trying to figure you out.”

A smile slowly spread across his lips. A real smile. It was enough to make your heart flutter, embarrassingly made noticeable by the heart rate monitor you were hooked up to.

“It would require a lot of brainpower to do that, sweetie. Maybe lose the concussion first,” he said in his typically sarcastic tone.

You managed your own small smile, which blossomed into a chuckle. This was the side of Sylus that had you coming back to him whenever he asked for your company.

His real side.

He kept his hand atop your head, avoiding the bandages completely. His thumb swiped gently over the parting of your hair, pulling you off to sleep again. You were pretty sure that he was doing it on purpose to force you into rest, but you were in no position to argue with him. You were officially exhausted.

“Would you really like me to leave, kitten?” he asked in a soft whisper as your eyes fluttered.

The very thought of him leaving made you a little upset. Despite your attempts at convincing the doctors you were fine, you damn well were not. You needed his comfort, and he needed to know that you were safe and on the road to a speedy recovery.

“No,” you whispered, succumbing to the soothing strokes on your scalp.

A soft brush of his lips was the last thing you felt before you finally drifted off, feeling secure enough to do so with his company.

“Good,” he’d whispered back before you fully clocked out. “I’ll always be careless so long as I get to you.”

A/N - Long time no fic post. I apologise, life has been crazy. I haven’t proof read this cause honestly I’m just too tired so I’ll read over it in the morning and edit any mistakes. Hope you’re all doing well! 🖤