#because now their hands are tied and no matter how they respond they are probably gonna get shit

[macadam]

Gonna put myself out here for a hot minute to remind everyone that the runner of a poll or little event on tumblr is not responsible for the replies/posts of everyone else in the fandom, nor do they have the power to stop people from reacting in any which way in the notes of their post without turning off reblogs and shutting down the entire thing full stop. I think we can all agree on that? They are not a discord mod, or the fandom's babysitter. Tumblr is the Wild West and by god none of us are the sheriff.

That's all ok keep on keeping everyone

[chr0llossexygf]

IN RUINS 2

PAIRING: spencer reid x fem reader

SUMMARY: spencer reid has always had something against you. during a particular case, spencer snaps and says something he shouldn’t have said leaving you in ruins. but what happens when your in danger and he still hasn’t explained why he reacted the way he did. will he have the time?

IMPORTANT COMMENT!!!!: hi my pumpkin cupcake stinky wonky pookie bears. IM SO SORRY IVE BEEN A FRAUD! 💔💔 jokes but I’m rlly sorry I haven’t been writing for the past months ive been to the hospital multiple times and also had someone close to me pull a ‘I’m dead’ card on me and then I was oh! BUT I think I’m okay I think I’m better and I’ll start posting more I have a lot of ideas but tbh this one was a draft before allat happened so it’s shit but and I wanted to get rid of it cus it js reminded me of everything that happened before 😭 BUT I’m rlly rlly sorry ITS SO LATE

" why is your mom calling you she hasn't called you in 7 months " scott anderson says rubbing his face repeatedly his fingers shaking, his other hand is in a fist digging his nails in the palm of his hand. he walks away from jj who's tied up on the floor with her feet and hands wrapped in rope. the grip on your phone tightens.

" she's calling me because it was my aunts birthday scott." you say looking at scott in the eyes. he stands up biting his nails. " your lying to me." he says walking to you, his eyes dark. you wish his eyes at-least looked like they had nothing behind them, but his eyes definitely have something behind them.

his eyes look determined. they looked commited. and he’s looking at you. your eyes widen. your hands become sweaty. you take a step back. “ i’m not lying to you scott.” you respond back gently shaking your head. you raise your eyebrows softly smiling at him. “ i wouldn’t lie to you scott.” you say the grip on your hand tightening to the point where your hand is shaking.

his gaze softens for a second, his eyes aren't so dark now. his eyebrows soften. " you wouldn't lie to me y/ n?" he whispers gently walking up to you. you nod gulping, " ¡ wouldn't lie to you scotty" you whisper smiling. he smiles. taking another step towards you. you take a deep breath in.

"y-your doing a great job y/n" spencer's shaky voice speaks into the phone. it's the only thing keeping you sane right now. he sounds nervous. you can hear him gulp repeatedly. he's stuttering a lot right now. he's probably blinking a lot. a habit he has when he's nervous. a habit you've absorbed from afar. " your doing a really really great job y/n. i'm so proud of you." no he shouldn't have said that. he should not have said that. he shouldn't have said that. you tear up. why are you tearing up? you can't tear up right now. not right now. please not right now.

your throat feels heavy. your heart feels heavy. a part of you feels funny. your ears feel funny, never having heard those words before. your brain is trying to process the words. it can't process them. it's funny though. no matter how much insane messed up stuff you've heard on the job none of it really ever seemed to take a toll on you. but hearing those 5 words. it's taking a toll on you. and it's not the right time. why are they so triggering. what are they triggering? the inner child inside of you who never got to hear those words? the teen inside of you who never got to hear those words? or is it adult you who still hadn't heard those words up until now? it's too much. why are you tearing up?

“ why are you crying.” scott says. something in his eyes has changed. oh god. his eyes darken. his eyebrows tighten. he’s shaking his head smiling. “ what is your mom saying? why is she making you cry? do you want me to kill her?” he says with pleading eyes smiling. he’s taking a step towards you. “ or are you not talking to your mom right now…” he mumbles. your eyes widen. you shake your head. “ or…your not calling your mom you bitch!” he shouts taking another step towards you. you don’t have time to react. he grabs you by the neck slamming you against the wall. his hand tightens around your neck.

you choke on your words. the tears that gathered up finally start to fall. your free hand wraps around scott's arm thats choking you. you repeatedly hit his arm. " please stop." you plead shaking your head. his grip tightens on your neck. " your a liar. your just like him." he spits his gaze darkening. he grabs your phone throwing it across the room. it knocks over a glass vase.

"¡'m not like him." you choke out shaking your head. " shut up! yes you are!" he shouts in your voice, spit getting on your face.

" let her go!" ji shouts from the floor. her voice cracks mid sentence. probably due to fear. watching you struggle is affecting her. just watching you struggle makes her feel as though she is the one struggling.

scott turns his head around. " what did you just say?" he says slowly releasing you. you take a deep breath in. you look at scott. another wave of fear hits you. what's he gonna say to jj? what's he gonna do to jj? she shouldn't have said anything. she should've kept quiet. he can't hurt her. you have to do something.

" i said let her go. you can't hurt her. she's what you want right? you can't hurt her. why would you hurt someone you love?" jj says her eyes darting between you and scott. to scott she looks desperate, to you. you know what jj's trying to say with her eyes.' we will be fine. seeing ji look at you like that. a rush of adrenaline hit you. you have got to do something. why are your hands so weak. why do you feel as though you don't have control of your body. why do you feel as though you can't control anything. damn it.

" you show love by hurting the ones you love." he whispers. you slowly reach for the gun in your pocket, trying not to alert him. and god is it hard " y/ n would know." he says chuckling. your so close to the gun. " isn't that right y/n?" he turns around to look at you. he sees your hand. he sees the hand thats reaching for the gun. he grabs your gun. your hand immediately forms into a fist, you punch him in the jaw. he falls back. holding his jaw. " you bitch!" he shouts.

you run to jj. you drop down to your knees. your shaky hands immediately start to undo the knots of the rope. "jj you need to get out." you say out of breathe. your trembling hands making it harder to undo the rope quickly. " no- what. y/n dont. i'm not leaving without you. the team is coming t-they're on their way y/n. ji says shaking her head in denial. her hands are untied. " god jj! i always follow your orders! just follow mine! just this once." you snap back moving onto her legs. you untie her. " get out of here now jj! he wont hurt me jj. hes obsessed with me he wont. trust me." you say nodding.

jj hasn't been a profiler for a long time. anyone else on the team would've called you out for your bullshit right now. if he wanted to hurt you. he definitely would. he would do anything to get you to be obedient. he could probably kill you if he wanted to. but jj doesn't know that. she thinks he's just a stalker who's obsessed with you and probably wouldn't seriously harm you. but you know unsubs like him all too well.

ji stands up running to the door. she opens the door. she turns to look at you again. you look at her and smile. " just go." you mouth. she quickly nods running out and closing the door. a wave of relief washes over you. jj is fine. jj is okay. jj is safe. he can't hurt jj anymore.

your not fine. your not okay. your not safe. he can keep hurting you. you turn around. he's standing right behind you. he's looking down at you. he's standing tall. his eyes are on you. his expression is dark. his eyes are empty. not a single thought behind his eyes. you were wrong. his eyes without a single thought behind them is scarier. because now you know, there's nothing really stopping him. there's no determination. there's no commitment. there's absolutely nothing behind those eyes. those eyes that are just about to do you harm.

“ me looking down on you…does this remind you of anything?” he says tilting his head to the side smiling. you shake your head. but oh boy do you know exactly what he’s talking about. your dad. “ oh right sorry. let me do something that will surely make you remember.” he says chuckling. he crouches down. he punches you right in the eye, your left eye. the one with the healed over stitches. you stiffen at his touch. not just because your scared of him. yeah of course your scared of him. but also because you’ve never had someone touch you in such an intimate place. you’ve never had someone grab your cheek and gently caress your scars.

he starts laughing. " oh my god let me see that" he gently grabs your cheek. tilting your head up towards him. he runs his finger on the scar. " he did that didnt he?" he whispers gently rubbing the scar. " he gave you this scar didnt he? i read it.. in one of your hospital records. he gave you this 2 weeks before he left right?" he whispers gently caressing the scar. your shaky hands reaches for his cheek.

he stiffens at your touch. he's just like you. " he gave this to you..right?" you whisper, gently caressing the cut on his lips. scott nods. " you and me.we are the same y/n. we both grew up in the same households. we both put up the same abuse. we..we are meant for each other y/n. your meant for me. and i'm meant for you." he whispers caressing your cheek gently. you nod.

" yeah.yeah we belong together." you mumble nodding gently.

i thought so too..until i saw a picture of you and your co worker spencer reid together." he whispers softly still smiling. your eyes widen. " w-what." you mumble. he chuckles, " yeah.i saw a picture of you two together. it was when you and your team were working that case in chicago." he whispers tightening his grip on your cheek. you shake your head.

" s-spencer? spencer reid? he-he means absolutely nothing to me." you say gently reaching for his hand. " don't lie to me." he whispers tearing up. " i'm not lying to you scott." you whisper rubbing your thumb gently against his arm. " your lying to

me. all you do is lie. your just like him." he whispers tears rolling down his cheeks. " i'm not like him scott." you whisper shaking your head, trying to calm him.

" your just like him.you lying bitch." he shakes his head standing up, forcefully pulling you up with him. his fingers dig deeply into your cheeks, surely 100% going to leave a mark. but who cares at this point.

" scott just listen to me-' he cuts your desperate cries with a punch to the mouth. you fall down to the floor, on purpose however. you want him to think your weak. your worn out. he can easily control you. he can easily throw you around like a rag doll. so he can feel some sense of confidence and have a sense of control. something he probably never experienced.

"i'm not listening to you. now you listen to me. you... you listen to me y/n. we are both the same person. we deserve absolutely nothing. we deserve everything our fathers did to us-"

" you know that's not true scott." someone speaks up from behind scott. their voice is strong and stern. it brings you comfort. never would you have thought, laying on the floor with blood dripping down your chin that the sound of someone's voice would bring you comfort. your heart feels warm. you can feel the familiarity of having control over your body come back. you smile. how could you be smiling at a time like this? your smiling. really hard while looking down at the floor. you refused to look up at scott. you refuse to do so.

because deep down you know you would be staring at the version of yourself that's buried deep inside you. that part inside you that keeps you wondering everyday, if you didn't take the path you took would you be like that. would you have done the same thing he had done? what makes him so different from you. just because you carry an id that gives you power over any normal civilian and a gun that's supposed to protect you and others. that doesn't make you any different though. because even though you have those things, you still think like scott. what if you truly don't deserve anyone in this world that would treat you with respect? what if you truly deserve someone as messed up as fucked up ad you are? because then they wouldn't understand right? they wouldn't understand how your mind works. but..like scott said. you probably deserve someone like scott, someone so sick and twisted-

why are you like this. why are you taking his words to heart. are you really that desperate and pathetic that you start taking an unsubs words to heart just because he shared an intimate moment with you. why? is it because you never in your life had experienced something like that and now you yearn for it? you start to believe every word he's said. your so naive. and your so vain. how can you be so gullible. why are you the way that you are. none of what scott said is true. none of it, absolutely none of it.

your too preoccupied with your brain breaking you down too notice two people coming over to you. your zoning out. your thinking hard. really hard. something like this requires a lot of thinking. but it shouldn't though. your supposed to just shrug off his words. not pay any mind to them. he's a mentally ill unsub who's murdered 5 women. nothing he says should make you reason with his thinking. there's nothing to reason with. he's insane. your not insane. your not insane. your just a girl who's seen some insane things.

" hey. your okay. i got you." morgan says gently grabbing you by the arms. "i got you y/n." he whispers picking you up gently. you stand up looking at the wall infront of you still zoned out. " hey y/n." emily pats your shoulder gently tilting her head to the side looking at you with such pain. you shake your head and look at both of them. " hi emily." you respond looking at emily blinking repeatedly. " hey you." she says smiling. " we've gotta get you to the ambulance come on y/n." morgan says wrapping his arms around you, pushing you into him.

" j-i don't need medical care morgan." you say trying to push your heavy head away but finding it way too hard. he feels too comfortable. too comforting. he feels too nice. his cologne smells masculine. really masculine. why is it comforting? why does it bring you comfort? you close your tired eyes for a second. " hey hey don't close your eyes on me I/n." morgan says tilting his head around to take a look at you, you shake your head softly. " i'm not dying morgan." you groan.

emily chuckles. " morgan's probably enjoying this." emily says wrapping up arm around her shoulder helping you walk, " cant have derek enjoying himself too much we all know how cocky he'll get and how high his ego will sky rocket." emily adds on looking at you smiling. her words make you chuckle. a painful chuckle. when your lips curve to let out a laugh a wave of pain washes over your face. "ow ow." you chuckle closing your eyes. morgan shakes his head,

"yeah you wish you can have a bit of this ego." morgan replies.

rossi opens the house door. his eyes immediately look to you. " it's alright i've got her." he says running to you. " derek go take care of reid he's in the ambulance." rossi says putting his gun away. morgan slowly and gently lets you go. rossi quickly replaces morgan. your head immediately shoots up. that hurt. you didn't even know you could do that. why did your head shoot up so quickly? just a second ago you were leaning into morgan for support because you couldn't bare to hold your head up and now suddenly you have all the energy in the world to shoot your head up.

"w-wait whys reid in the ambulance?" you ask your eyes wide, your pretty sure your eyes are half closed though. you can't bare to hold them open. you can already feel your left eye bruising. you can taste blood in your mouth. and you know there's blood dripping down from your eyebrows, from the healed over stitch. rossi and emily push you forward helping you walk. why aren't they answering you? what happened to reid? whys he in an ambulance? is he injured? what's wrong with spencer? what happened to spence? " i think that's a question he should answer." rossi says. what does that mean?

your quickly brought out of the house, thank god. you feel like if you spent another second in there you would go ballistic and break down crying. your heads down, your too tired. you see a pair of shoes infront of you. who's shoes are those? who is that? and why did they stop right infront of you? it's not spencer. spence would never wear those shoes. he was wearing converse earlier. dark blue converse. why do you remember all of this? don't you have some sort of concussion? how do you remember what pair of shoes spencer wore? god...

you feel emily and rossi's grip weaken around you. the unfamiliar person infront of you reaches forward and takes you. they lead you away from rossi and emily. your too tired to even care. they lean you against them. " where's...what's wrong with dr spencer reid?" you mumble stumbling in their hood barely having the energy to hold yourself up. " it's alright i°ve got you. here." they sit you down on something. there's bright red lights flashing around you. an ambulance.

" ma'am i'm gonna get an IV bag started is that alright with you?" the medic asks opening a cabinet. you nod your head hazily. you lean your head against the walls of the ambulance. he takes your arm rolling your sleeve up. you feel the soft pinch. your thankful for it though. it's stopping you from dissociating and falling asleep. you don't wanna fall asleep until someone tells you why spencer is in an ambulance. why do you care for him? why do you care for him after everything's he said- oh right. after what he's said. why do you care for him after he just publicly embarrassed you? that's so stupid. why are you so pathetic and desperate. did he publicly embarrass you? half of the team probably already knew. it's not that hard to figure out. it’s probably why you are the way that you are. they’re profilers. of course they would figure that out. what he said was true. they all probably agree. oh god..

" let me go! let me go! i don't need medical attention she needs it more than me! let me see her!" you hear a voice shout from the distance, you recognise it. your heartbeat quickens. not like earlier though. not in the way your heartbeat quickened earlier. that was in fear. no. this. this is in relief. your stomach starts to stir. in nervousness. your still leaning your head against the wall, but your looking down. your hair covering your face. you stop hearing his voice.

" ma'am i need you to lift your head up." the medic says gently placing a tray next to you, a tray your guessing is full of medical supplies and alcohol. you softly nod your head sitting up. the medic grabs one of the medical instrument opening the wrapping. he moves to the side to quickly put on gloves.

“ oh my god y/n..” you hear him say your name, in so so much pain. he sounds so upset. is he in pain? why does he sound so upset. what happened to him. is he okay. you look up. you see him. you look into his eyes. and suddenly all the words he’s said earlier rush buck into your clouded messy mind. but they don’t hurt as much. your so used to men blurting out hurtful words to you and you having to get over them, what else do you do? ask them to apologise? expect them to apologise?

no. they don’t do that. they’ve never done that. best thing to do is just get over it, because you probably deserve it right? that’s what you were taught.

he looks tired. his eye bags look darker than what they usually would look like. his hair is messier then usual. the two buttons on his dark blue vest are unbuttoned. he’s wearing his fbi vest. his dark blue pants have wet stains on the side of them. your guessing because he would repeatedly wipe his sweaty hands on them. a habit he has when he’s nervous.

he looks into your eyes. he sees the bruise that's already forming in your eye. the trail of blood rolling down your eyebrow from what he can see, that scar you have. you have blood rolling down the side of your face. your neck is red. an imprint of a hand already appearing. his heart hurts. it hurts so much. seeing you like this. but how dare he right?

how dare he feel pain in his heart? the pain your feeling physically and mentally is probably 10x worse than what he’s feeling. he wishes he was feeling it though, he wishes that right in this second all your pain would be transferred to him. add it on to his pain. he feels so guilty. you don’t deserve this. this is his fault. this is his fault. this is all his fault. your never gonna look him in the eye again. whenever you do your gonna remember this day. and how much pain he put you through. he hates it. he hates it so much. he hates himself so much.

"y-y/n." he's out of breath. he doesn't know where to start. he didn't have time to think of an apology, spending the entire car ride panicking nervous about you and wether you were safe or not. but now he can't think of anything.

he can't think of anything when looking into your eyes, the only thing he's thinking of is how badly he wishes he can go back in time and prevent all of this from happening. or make all of this happen but only put himself in your shoes. make him go through all this pain instead of you. You don't deserve this. you don't deserve him. you don't deserve his stupid apology that's about to come, that is if he can even muster up an apology right now. you deserve so much better than him.

"y/n i'm so sorry." spencer starts shaking his head his eyes wide. he can't think of anything. his iq of 187 has suddenly dropped down to 20. spencer who seemed to never stop his rambling suddenly can't think of a single thing to ramble on. you just made him stupid. and not in the way it's supposed to be. you make him stupid when you smile at him. not like this. he can't think of anything. he doesn't know where to start. he shakes his head.

" god can't you do your job!" spencer snaps grabbing a medical wipe and pouring saline solution on it. he stands infront of you. his angry demeanour quickly vanishes once his infront of you. something just hit him. he freezes infront of you. it's like all the color, the little color he already had in his face has drained.

you look at him in confusion. all though your upset at him it doesn't stop you from caring and growing concerned. " w-what?" you say blinking repeatedly looking at him. hes still looking at you. his lips part. he blinks repeatedly. he shakes his head.

"i-i'm just..i got scared." he stutters his voice cracking. " why?" you ask tilting your head to the side. " i'm scared your gonna flinch once i touch you." he replies quickly. really quickly. any normal person wouldn't catch it. but you did. vou've learnt to keep up with spencer's quick rambling. oh. oh. whys he so considerate? y/n stop. you can think that. you look down at your thighs. unable to think of anything to say. if he did touch you. would you have flinched? would you have reacted? you don't know. but spencer's not him. right?

" i'm not gonna flinch spencer." you say looking up at him. he nods his head gulping, "a-alright." he says. he lifts his shaky hand up. he gently dabs the medical wipe on your cut. disinfecting it. ouch it burns. your nails dig into the palm of your hand. his eyes are stuck on the cut. the scar. he knows where it's from. he might've been with garcia when she did her usual background snooping on new members of the team 2 years ago. he remembers how guilty he felt after it. finding out about such a dark part of your life without your knowledge or permission.

but that guilt doesn't compare to the guilt he's feeling right now. he feels tremendously guilty, he caused the scar to re open. all because of his foolishness. if he just shut his mouth earlier and wasn't such a smart ass. if he maybe was the one to go with you to scott anderson's house and not jj he would've been able to protect you. he probably would've shot scott anderson the second he would've laid his hands on vou.

he doesn't trust himself aorund vou. atleast not from the harm of unsubs and has the need to shoot any of them if they ever did you harm. he would probably lose his job. if he was there he probably would've lost his job. but he doesn't care. for your safety. he doesn't care.

" i'm so sorry y/n-" you can feel the medical wipe shake on your eyebrow, from spencer's shaky hands.

" it's fine spencer." you mumble looking into his eyes. is it fine though? is it really fine? whys he apologising? he's not supposed to be apologising right? this is new. this is so very new. they never apologise after hurting you. this is so unfamiliar? how are you supposed to react? do you tell them how you really feel? do you immediately accept their apology? they never apologised to you when they hurt you. whys spencers apologising? what do you say?

" it's not fine y/n. i-i hurt you. i c-caused this." he says spitting his words out in a shaky manner. what do you say or do? you've never made it this far whenever something similar to this happened in the past.

" spencer it's fine. i shouldn't have egged you on earlier anyways-" why are you taking the blame. y/ n stop. it's not your fault. it never is your fault when something like this happens. y/n please. it's not your fault. stop taking the blame. his heart aches even more. his throat feels heavy. who hurt you like this? who broke your heart like this? who messed up your image of love like this? who hurt you this bad. he hates them. he hates them for making you like this.

" y/n i know you have the personal need to justify everything i've said but y/n stop, just stop. i hurt you okay. and even though saying that out loud and accepting the fact that i said that it thr worst thing i've ever done in my entire life it's nothing compared to what you felt when i said that. i don't wanna be like him y/n. i don't wanna be him. i don't want you to think i can be him. i don't want you to see him everytime you see me y/n. because that would kill me even more. y-you don't have to talk to me anymore y/n i just don't want you to flinch or have this horrible feeling of rememberence whenever you see me. please just.. just don't take the blame for this because it's my fault. this entire thing was my fault and i put you through this y/n. you don't deserve this. i'm really sorry.”

spencer rambles. trying to push the heavy feeling in his throat away. he can't cry. he doesn't deserve to cry right now. he's nervous though. he's nervous about what your gonna say. he doesn’t have the right to feel nervous though. he should accept whatever it is. he did this to himself. whatever the outcome is. he just hopes you don’t have a sense of fear wash over you whenever you look at him and get memories of this day. that is if you ever look at him after this day.

no one's ever said that to you. you feel your tired eyes tear up. your about to cry. oh no. spencer panics. does he comfort you? do you even want his comfort? he doesn't deserve to touch you, he thinks. he drops the medical wipe.

" n-no please don't cry. ill go call

over emily or jj or morgan or hotch just p-please dont cry. i'll go-" it physically aches him to leave you like this. but he has to. he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable. he just made you cry. you must really hate him. he understands though. he just wishes you understand how sorry he is. but you probably will never know. because you probably don't expect him to feel sorry, you probably think he's faking it. he just needs you to understand that he's not him. he's not your dad. spencer actually feels sorry. he feels so so sorry for everything he's done and said. but you had to put up with years of your dad taking apologises you probably don't believe his. he hates himself.

you stand up. you barely have room to think clearly before a tear rolls down your cheek. spencer immediately removes his fbi vest, you bury your head against spencer's chest. you wrap your hands against his chest. he doesn't wrap his hands around you though. he's scared to touch you. your not sobbing. your too tired to sob. you just let tears slowly roll down your cheeks. " your not him spencer." you say out loud. spencer's heart skips a beat. he slowly wraps his hands around you. " i'm still mad at you. you shouldn't have said that earlier. b-but i forgive you spence." you mumble against his chest. he shakes his head, " you shouldn't forgive me y/n. your supposed to be mad at me. your supposed to be yelling at me. or-or hitting me." he says.

" i am mad at you spencer." you say pulling your head away wiping the tears.

"alright. good." he says

looking down at you. " oh god- im sorry that was stupid i shouldn't have hugged you-" you immediately start apologising shaking your head. you immediately sit back down. oh god your so stupid. why did you just hug him? your so embarrasing oh god. did you feel the need to hug spencer because you just needed to make sure that spencer wasn't him.

not that you would know what your dads embrace would feel like. but you just needed to make sure.

" no please don't apologise. d-do you mind if i sit next to you?" spencer asks pointing at the space next to you. you look at him and slowly nod your heart. he sits next to you. " once ive healed i'm yelling at you spencer." you say looking down at your legs, your tired eyes aching. " alright." spencer says nodding. you should yell at him. and you will. he had no right. but your too tired right now. you just hope. you really really hope that spencer doesn't spiral once your back in quantico and probably will forcefully be taken into the hospital by emily and jj. you really hope he doesn't drown himself in guilt and spiral. why are you so caring? does spencer care about you the way you care about him? that's foolish right? he wouldn't right? does he feel his heart quicken when he sees you? does he care the way you care? that's stupid god y/n you probably have a concussion just shut up.

yeah how stupid y/n. because if you knew the way spencer cared about you or the way his heart quickens when he sees you. you wouldn't believe it. it will take time though. it will take time for you to believe it. he's willing to work hard during that time. he just hopes you know even the slightest bit. but he wont say anything right now. you've already been through enough. he wont say anything for a while. though when the time is right. maybe you'll finally know how much he cares about you. for now, he'll settle for this just for now. until he can gain your trust back and make his feelings known. he'll settle for this. because just being next to you makes him happy.

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@slay-and-gay

@imagininghim

@vivi-wtz

@dory-98

[latin5mamii]

Later - Carlos Alcaraz

Summary: He just doesn’t care, if he wants you, he’s having you.

Genre: Carlos Alcaraz x you, Juancarlos!Daughter x Carlos Alcaraz

Warnings: slightly smut, suggestive talk

Author’s note: Had this in mind and i had to write it down😌

“Estás tan hermosa esta noche”

••••

He was so fucking hot, and he knew it. He knew the power he had over you, the way a single look from them dark, big eyes could make your heart race and your mind spiral out of control. No matter how much you wanted to resist his charm, to not feel the way you did whenever he spoke to you, you always failed.

He had become your biggest weakness, an addiction you couldn’t shake no matter how dangerous it was. ‘Dangerous’ because you were his coach’s daughter, and if your father ever found out what had been happening between you two over the past few weeks, there would be hell to pay. But that didn’t matter. The thrill of sneaking around, lies over lies, kept pulling you back to him, time and time again.

Tonight was no different.

His voice snapped you out of your flashbacks of last night, a night spent in his arms, his touch still fresh on your skin. You turned to him with a disapproving look, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

Not that you minded, if anything, you craved it,but not here. Not at this dinner where both your families and his team were present.

“Don’t do it,” you warned him, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to keep your composure.

“What shouldn’t I do?” he replied innocently, his hand already sliding onto your thigh, fingers trailing lightly across your skin. The contact made your breath hitch, and you shot a quick glance at your father, who was thankfully engrossed in conversation with Carlos’s father.

Carlos’s hand continued its exploration, moving up and down your thigh with agonizing slowness.“Carlos, stop,” you said, your voice lacking the conviction you so desperately needed it to have. But your body betrayed you, your legs instinctively parted slightly, granting him more access. Why did he have this effect on you? Why, when you knew better, did your body respond to him like this?

The truth was, the risk of being caught, the danger of what you were doing, only made it more thrilling. And that was the problem.

"Tu cuerpo no parece querer que me detenga",

(Your body doesn’t seem to want me to stop,) he murmured, that infuriating smirk you both loved and hated tugging at his lips. His hand moved higher, brushing against the delicate fabric of your panties, the touch sending a shockwave through your body.

"Si tan solo tu padre supiera las cosas que haces... probablemente ni siquiera te reconocería a ti, su chica inocente y obediente. Es una pena que no sea así" he whispered, his hand still teasing your skin.

(If only your father knew the things you do… he probably wouldn’t even recognize you,his innocent and obedient little girl.It’s a pity that it isn’t so)

You grabbed his wrist to stop him, your grip firm, but inside, you were unraveling. You were fighting a losing battle, and you both knew it. All you could think about was how, if you were alone with him right now, you’d be begging him for more, abandoning all pretense of resistance.

“Carlos, please,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “Not here. Someone will notice.”

His eyes darkened with desire, but there was a teasing glint there as well. “I love when you say please,” he murmured, leaning in closer so his lips were almost brushing against your ear. “But you know as well as I do that you don’t really want me to stop.”

You hated how right he was. How, despite the fear of getting caught, despite knowing this was wrong, you couldn’t help but want him. Crave him.

Carlos’s fingers traced along the edge of your panties, and your grip on his wrist tightened, trying to push him away, but it was no use. The fire he ignited in you was too strong, too overwhelming. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, but it was impossible with him so close, his cologne filling your senses, his touch driving you mad.

“Imagine,” he continued, his voice, "Si deslizara mis dedos un poco más... ¿qué harías? ¿Podrías callarte? ¿Podrías seguir fingiendo que no pasa nada debajo de esta mesa?"

(if I slipped my fingers just a little further… what would you do? Could you keep quiet? Could you keep pretending like nothing’s happening under this table?)

The thought se your body on fire, and you swallowed hard, struggling to maintain your composure. But you were losing this battle, and Carlos knew it. He thrived on it.

Just when you thought he was going to surpass your limit, a familiar voice from the other side of the table made you feel literal fear.

“What are you two talking about so intensely?” Your father. You opened your eyes, your heart pounding, and forced yourself to push Carlos’s hand away.

Carlos turned toward your father with his usual easy smile, completely unfazed. “Oh, just discussing a few plans for after Wimbledon,” he said smoothly. How could he be so calm when you were fighting yourself only for smiling?

Your father’s gaze flicked between the two of you, a slight frown creasing his brow. There was an edge of concern in his eyes, but no immediate suspicion. “Plans for the future, huh?” he said, his tone more curious than accusatory.

It’s not that your father was jealous or thought anything bad about Carlos, but Carlos’ a handsome, rich and young man, he wouldn’t even want to imagine his daughter suffering for him.

“Nothing more,Juanki. I swear,” He says laughing like he just doesn’t care, which is true.He doesn’t care at all.

He wanted you to be his, and nothing and no one could ever change that.

Juan Carlos nods and smiles back to Carlos.He quickly looks at you, and turns back to talk.

As soon as your father was distracted again, you shot Carlos a look that was half exasperation, half something else entirely.

“You’re impossible,” you hissed under your breath, trying to regain some semblance of control over your racing heart. “And so a pathologic liar .”

Carlos only grinned, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed against your ear. “And we didn’t got caught” he murmured, his voice filled with that familiar, dangerous amusement. “And that’s what makes it fun, isn’t it?”

You wanted to argue, to tell him off for taking such a risk, but the truth was, he was right. The thrill of almost being caught, the danger of it all, was as intoxicating as his touch. And it scared you how much you craved it.

Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos’s hand found yours under the table, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that was both intimate and possessive. He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb stroking your skin in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Más tarde” he whispered, his voice a low promise.

"Encuéntrame más tarde. Ya sabes dónde".

[talkbycolor]

I deserve this

A/N; at this point its obvious that i inspire in rebzyyx songs

Pairing; "Your Boyfriend" x AFAB!Reader (cus people are scared of the word trans)

CW; reader becomes willing at the end i swear / unhealthy, obsessive and possesive love / sensitive topics such as mental health, depression, anxiety, fear of abandonment, dissociation, suicidal thoughts / a crazy concept: he talks about his emotions!! / non-con, violence, like, i cry while i masturbate

It's quite blurry trying to remember how it all started, it seemed harmless to accept a date from a stranger, he gave you a beautiful rose and was quite kind to you.

Feeling that people could like you, that someone could be romantically interested in you, because of who you are, your personality, that they knew your… desires?

Because you had dreams, of course.

…

Your dream was to live, to live a quiet life, a stable, pleasant job, with good pay, a normal and peaceful life, where the deep emptiness in your heart was non-existent, years had passed and the monotonous feeling did not disappear, you had already accepted the pain, after all, if you felt that constantly it was probably because you did something wrong at some point, right?

But that was a personal dream that would never be shared.

And it's not like that matters now, not when you're in… A room, that's funny, your last memory is of Peter slamming you against the table to tie your limbs since their last date didn't end as expected and It was time to go home.

Return to an empty home, for what? Peter was more than willing to take care of you, why was he so scary? Accepting it would have made things easier, but you ruined everything by trying to run away, you even fought tooth and nail, that was too pathetic now that you remember it, maybe you DO deserve all the shit that is happening.

You could have saved yourself so much terror and attacks.

"PETER ENOUGH! PLEASE! LET ME GO! NO! NO! FUCK, PLEASE!" You tore out your throat with terrified screams and tried to claw at his skin until your fingers were bloody, biting the hands that tried to stop your screams, hitting his face with your elbows and kicking him away, crawling like a dying animal away from him. "PETER!" You sobbed sharply before losing consciousness.

But nothing worked, resisting only made all that shit worse and now you were tied up, in Your boyfriend's old clothes.

You barely remember how you got to that place, or if time passed, anyway that doesn't matter anymore, from one day to the next you find a very small piece of clothing that turned out to be yours, time passed, your body grew but your mind didn't, they keep lying but you know that your life will depend on how well you do it.

And you're not doing it right, you tried to adopt toxic happiness but you couldn't even maintain it for a while before exploding, sadness was already an everyday thing and you just weren't feeling it anymore.

"Dear?"

Just peace please, how hard could that be? It was annoying, you even felt angry for feeling so empty, because people were so rude and the constant rejection killed you socially.

It was hard to breathe, wasn't it?

"Love? Do you hear me?"

It feels like the end, your soul is bleeding, you wish your stupid job made you feel a little more alive and motivated to continue.

And now you have done so many things to escape from that monster that pulls you back to the room to devour you under the bed.

"Darling!" Your boyfriend's voice echoed through the room, making you look at him once and for all, your eyes tired despite having been unconscious most of the time.

"…" You wanted to respond, really, but what were you supposed to say?

"You must be exhausted, you didn't even touch dinner" It was a tricky phrase, he had tried to feed you since you were tied up.

"Peter-…"

"I already told you that I prefer to be called other way, honey" He responded with a smile and a definitely not irritated tone.

"I want to sleep" He left your lips, he was being so caring, taking care of your health.

He kidnapped you.

And you couldn't even thank him for it.

He knocked you out.

You really were an ungrateful shit, weren't you?

He locked you up.

You wanted to return the signs of affection.

Soon the ropes left your body, Peter helped you stand up and you both walked to the bedroom, he was still carrying a small plate with a light dinner, he refused to let you go to bed without having eaten dinner.

Once in bed, he made sure that you had a proper dinner, and he helped you change your clothes so that you would be comfortable in bed, he also did the same with his attire and now you were both lying down. It always made your stomach churn when he looked at your half-naked body.

"Dear" He murmured next to you while you tried to sleep as soon as possible, so many things had happened those last few days that the only way out was to sleep, you had probably already been fired from your job for not showing up. "Honey, love, darling," he said sweetly as his hand went up to your cheek, he simply looked at you with a huge and probably painful smile on his face, almost tattooed, you made him so happy with your mere presence.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, your mind still cloudy enough to refuse anything, so you just went up to kiss him, the room was very dark and there weren't even crickets echoing at night, the amount of silence was overwhelming… of course, that didn't count the lip-smacking they shared.

So it continued.

For a long time.

"Pet-…uhm, I mean, honey, I'm tired and I want to sleep" You interrupted the honey session.

"Please, you don't have to do anything, just let me love you, darling" his voice was soft, soothing to that darkness but not to the painful weight in your heart and the knot in your stomach, his touches felt strange.

You know that's wrong, you don't like it.

You didn't stop him, just like he said, you let him love you as you closed your eyes and a buzzing sound echoed in your head, like television static, your bottom clothes had disappeared, but that didn't matter.

You couldn't hear anything, you didn't see anything, your body reacted but your mind was very far from that place, you wandered through your memories, fantasies of a life you were never going to have.

It was really digging into your cunt, huh? Even when your mind wanted to flee somewhere else, it was undeniable how he held your thighs and you gasped heavily with each thrust.

His member was still dripping his seed, did he use protection? You don't know, you don't care.

It doesn't matter.

B e cau se s oon y o u w il l b e d ea d.

"Honey? Didn't you enjoy it?" Peter asked with a worried frown.

What the hell is wrong with you? Do you no longer have respect for yourself? You know it's going to hurt you.

Don't you mind dying? You lost hope and you don't even try to help yourself anymore, damned and pathetic attempt at being human, really unnecessary.

"Honey…" Peter caressed your cheeks and brought his forehead to yours, sighing softly and carrying your body to the bathroom in the room.

You didn't say anything either, you just felt how it was cleaning your body, the water was warm, the bathtub full of bubbles, and it smelled pretty good, like coconut soap. Peter hummed quietly as he treated your body with the utmost affection, you were sure he was whispering things in your ear but you were barely aware of your surroundings.

When your eyes finally focused on something you could see the ceiling of the room thanks to the moonlight, Peter was behind you, hugging your body, caressing your hair, and sniffing the soapy fragrance.

"You are so sweet, so unique, so kind, so special to me, a truly exceptional person, I will do everything to make you feel comfortable, darling, I love you so much, my adorable-…"

"Peter"

"… Yes love?" This time he didn't argue about that name, you were finally talking and that was good.

"I'm sorry I feel so alone, I know you're here but…" You wish you could give him an answer but that was something even you hadn't figured out yet.

"It's okay, honey, I'll be with you to hold you, forever."

♡

[makoodles]

tìsom | tsu'tey [nsfw]

masterlist

pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

word count: 5k words

warnings: [nsfw] human/na'vi relationship, oral sex (fem receiving), size difference, face sitting, heat cycles

summary: tìsom: [tI."som] P F n. heat

Tsu'tey is a strong mate; he is cautious, considerate, and protective, and he always provides for you.

And yet, human/Na'vi relationships come with a learning curve. That learning curve comes with surprises regarding certain biological urges

read it on ao3!

“You must squeeze your thighs more, ma’yawne.”

“I’m trying,” You complain, shifting your weight on the back of the enormous direhorse. “I don’t think she likes me.”

Tsu’tey gestures pointedly at the spot where his queue is connected to the direhorse’s, linking them mentally. His tsaheylu is probably the only reason his direhorse hasn’t thrown you into the dirt by now.

“We are connected,” He points out to you, as if you’ve missed his meaning. “She could not dislike you.” Then he grins, the sharp points of his teeth poking out from beneath his lip. “More than likely, you are too little for her to feel on top of her.”

You roll your eyes, beginning to get irritated. This whole riding exercise had been his idea in the first place! You were perfectly content on the ground! It was pointless practice considering you wouldn’t be able to ride without Tsu’tey around, anyway.

“Come,” He says, and his hand lands heavily on your thigh, big and warm. “Squeeze your thighs. Show her you are there.”

It doesn’t matter how often he touches you; the feeling of his big hand spreading over you makes you feel so impossibly small. It’s such a heady feeling, and you bite back a grin instinctively. God, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to that. He’s being so touchy today, it’s driving you a little crazy.

This time, when you squeeze your thighs the animal beneath you responds by taking a few cautious steps forward. You let out a startled laugh, clutching at the direhorse’s neck and turning to give Tsu’tey an enormous grin.

“Oh shit, look! She’s moving!” You yelp.

Tsu’tey only hums in response, though he’s not doing a very good job at hiding the way his own mouth is twitching. It’s pretty obvious that the only reason the direhorse is moving at all is because Tsu’tey is guiding it through the tsaheylu, but you appreciate that he’s allowing you to take the credit for it anyway.

“You’re a natural, demon.” He says, the familiar old insult dripping with unmistakable fondness. 

You perk up at the compliment, despite the fact that it’s really just Tsu’tey leading you around on the pal’i. You feel like a little kid going for a ponyride at a fair, but damn if it isn’t unexpectedly fun. You start to relax into the gentle sway of the direhorse’s gait, enjoying the weight of Tsu’tey’s hand on your thigh. It’s surprisingly peaceful, especially when Tsu’tey’s thick thumb strokes over your thigh like he just can’t help himself.

When the pal’i begins to step away from the clearing in the back of the village towards the forest, you shoot Tsu’tey a look with raised eyebrows.

He just smirks at your questioning expression, clearly amused. “You do not trust me?”

“I trust you.” You say immediately. “But your pal’i is barely tolerating me as is-”

“She is tolerating you just fine.” Tsu’tey interrupts you lazily, reaching up to stroke a broad hand over his pali’s neck.

There’s no argument you can think of for that, so you decide to just go along for the ride. It’s a beautiful afternoon, and it’s the first time in a while that Tsu’tey has managed to free himself up from the various duties that he usually performs for the clan. There’s a certain looseness to his shoulders that tells you he’s enjoying this just as much as you are, especially as his hands never stray from you once. 

The forest is alive in the late afternoon sunshine. Ancient roots erupt out of the dirt and fan over the ground like hairs, and the moss that covers the trunks of the trees is such a deep green that it almost seems like paint pigment. Tsu’tey is careful to lead the direhorse around any tripping hazards, his hand on your thigh keeping you steady and safe on the direhorse’s back.

You hadn’t been lying when you told Tsu’tey that you trusted him. You’re content to go along with his little ride, resting your own smaller hand on top of his as he leads your mount along through the trees. Eventually, Tsu’tey leads the direhorse through the trees into a tiny copse of glowing flora.

“Wow.” You start to smile, lifting your head to gaze around at the phosphorescent fungi-like growths sprouting out of the ground and surrounding trees. It’s stunning, just like most of Pandora. The alien beauty of the planet still manages to steal your breath away sometimes, no matter how long you’ve been here.

You’re so distracted by the plants around you that you don’t notice Tsu’tey disconnecting his queue from the pal’i. When his hands land on your waist you let out a soft noise of surprise that’s cut off as he lifts you bodily from the back of the animal, swinging your legs around and placing you gently on your feet in front of him. He slaps his palm lightly against the direhorse’s rear, sending her careening into the forest to graze.

“I thought we would spend the afternoon outside the village.” He says once you’ve got your balance, and he reaches out to fiddle with your exo-mask to ensure it’s firmly attached to your face.

That sounds really nice. The Omaticaya encampment has become home to you, and the people are so gracious when it comes to accepting you considering what your kind has done to their planet, but sometimes the urge to just escape somewhere far from all the curious, prying eyes of the villagers.

When Tsu’tey lowers himself to the spongey moss floor of the forest, you’re quick to follow after him. It feels like laying on foam, and you end up rolling on your back and gazing up at the canopy of trees far above your head. You’re vaguely aware of Tsu’tey settling himself beside you, laying on his side so he can look down at you, but you’re distracted by the luminescent moss cushioning the ground where you lay.

“You’re staring at me.” You murmur, a smile tugging at your lips.

You don’t turn your head, but you can see Tsu’tey’s big golden eyes fixed on your face out of the corner of your eyes. His gaze feels like a physical weight pinning you in place, his tail undulating lazily in the air as he watches you. 

“I am allowed to stare,” Tsu’tey’s smooth voice rumbles, sending a tiny little tremble running up your spine. “I am thinking.”

“Oh yeah?” You’re trying to sound as casual as possible, but you’re sure that you fall way short. “What are you thinking?”

Tsu’tey doesn’t speak immediately. He’s quiet long enough that you raise your head to look at him. Like this, his gaze is even more intense. His eyes drift from your face down to your shoulders, over your chest, down your hips, and then along the length of your legs. 

The atmosphere on Pandora is humid and hot like the rainforests of Earth, and the heat had gotten to you in the last couple of days – you had abandoned the standard RDA-issued cargos and tank top in favour of one of the sun-dresses that you had brought with you from home. The little dress is impractical but pretty, a truly self-indulgent treat for yourself, and it certainly seems like Tsu’tey likes it too.

Eventually, his big eyes trail back up to your face and settle there. “I am thinking that I want you.”

Your cheeks heat, skin going prickly as you shift where you’re laying. Ah. That certainly explains the heat in his stare. 

“You had me this morning,” You remind him, biting your lip as you grin at the memory.

His ears twitch, and his teeth flash as a matching grin grows across his face. “Yes. I remember.”

When his hand comes creeping across your stomach, you snort. The two of you have come a long way from your first meeting, when he had seen you as nothing more than an annoyance, a demon. It’s almost hard to believe that it’s the same man who is looking at you now, with his twitching ears and pupils blown wide.

You turn to look at him properly, but this time you note the way his tail is undulating across the soft grass and the way that the little bioluminescent dots scattered across his face and body are emitting a soft but insistent sort of glow. The expression on his face is… odd. His pupils are blown much wider than usual, and the way he’s watching you is eerily reminiscent of a predator. He’s always been intense, but this kind of a gaze is a bit much, even for him.

“What’s up with you?” You ask, laughing a little as you reach out to playfully grab at his twitching tail.

It’s something you’ve done plenty of times before – Tsu’tey is always so serious and austere, and it usually makes his stern veneer crack a little when you initiate such a playful move. He’ll usually snort and swat at your head, or roll his eyes and tug at you in return. However, that is not what happens this time.

When you wrap your fingers around the velvety soft, whip-like tail and tug, Tsu’tey’s head falls back as he lets out a groan that sounds as though it’s been punched out of him.

You whip your hand away at once, eyes growing huge. “Oh, god! I’m so sorry, did I hurt yo-”

The rest of your sentence is lost as the air whooshes out of your lungs – Tsu’tey’s entire big-ass body has just rolled over onto you, trapping you beneath his hot skin and big arms. He’s still careful to keep most of his weight off you, clearly conscious of crushing you, but the bulk of his body presses you right into the cushy moss beneath you. His face presses right into your throat, and you can feel his hot breath as he takes deep, snuffling inhales.

“Fuck.” He grunts, and despite your surprise you have to bite back a laugh. It’s always a little comical to hear him use human sayings that he’s clearly picked up from you.

“Fuck,” You echo back in agreement, still trying to catch your breath as he bears down on you. It’s as though he’s trying to press your bodies as tight together as he can manage. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s gotten into you?”

“Tìsom,” He groans, and you jolt as his big hands land on your thighs and he pulls you to meet his crotch. 

The hardness there is unmistakable, his tiny tewng doing hardly anything to conceal it. He grinds against you, the movement and the pressure sending little zings of pleasure shooting right up into your lower belly.

“Tìsom,” You repeat, bewildered. You don’t know this word, and he doesn’t seem to be too fussed about explaining it to you.

“It started this morning,” He mumbles into your neck, his lips leaving wet trails across your skin as he takes a series of deep breaths. “It has gotten stronger through the day. I need you now, I wish to have you right here, my little mate.”

You still aren’t sure what he’s talking about, but when he humps up against you again you’re pretty quick to abandon your curiosity. He certainly had been horny this morning when he had rolled you over and fucked you right there in the bed, but that had been different. It had been softer, tinged with a hint of desperation but lacking any real urgency. This is different. This feels as though he’s trying to crawl right underneath your skin.

“Tsu’tey,” You gasp as his hands begin to ruck up the soft fabric of your sundress. Damn, you knew it was impractical to wear the damn thing, but you can’t bring yourself to regret it when he peels himself away from your throat so he can look down at you with fierce interest as he pulls the hem up around your waist.

He grunts softly at the sound of his name, his gaze swinging up towards your face. His eyes look a little glassy, but he focuses on your face and you see his pupils have blown so wide that all you can see of his iris is a thin golden ring around the edges.

“What is tìsom?” You ask, watching with widened eyes as he takes deep, snuffling breaths.

“Heat,” He grits out. “I am- I can smell you. I must-”

He pushes himself up onto his elbows and begins to shuffle down the length of your body, but you barely even notice his progress. Your mind has stuck on the first thing he had said; heat. 

Surely that doesn’t mean what you think it means. Do the Na’vi have heat cycles? You haven’t heard anyone bring that up before. Good god, why has no one brought that up before? That seems like something you ought to know!

Your thoughts don’t get to spiral any further, because Tsu’tey’s big head pushes its way between your thighs. Your legs fall open to make room for him instinctively – it makes you feel like a wanton idiot, but then he’s nuzzling you right at the juncture of your thigh and suddenly it doesn’t matter anymore. Your thoughts are washed away by the feeling of his damp, hot breath against you.

He takes a soft, snuffling breath, then sighs out a little moan. “You smell so sweet, ma’tawtute.”

His teeth graze over the cotton of your panties, causing your spine to lock up at the sensation. That should definitely be embarrassing, you think. It certainly shouldn’t have you throbbing, tightening, hunching your shoulders. 

“I don’t-”

With a purr, he wedges his nose between your thighs. You let out a short, startled shriek, and grab a handful of his braids. His tongue is so big, a swath of wet warmth that can lave over your whole mound and everything below it in one lick. In a few more licks your panties are soaked from both sides.

 When you can't stand the feel of damp cloth on you anymore you push his nose away, just enough to let you lift your hips and drag the panties off and kick them aside.

He only barely allows you enough time to toss them aside before he’s pushing his head right back between your legs, his face pressing right up against you with a needy groan. His tongue pokes out yet again, but this time the rough, hot, wet texture is pressed right up against your bare flesh. The sensation is dizzying, and you lean your head backward, pillowed against the soft moss, looking up dizzily at the sun through the boughs of the trees. You rock your hips into the press of his tongue, feeling like you’re melting under it.

You had assumed, when he said heat and then rolled atop you, that he was about to spread your legs and pound you right into the ground. You certainly wouldn’t have been opposed to that, but Tsu’tey remains entirely preoccupied with his face buried against your pussy – he shows no sign of shifting at all.

He sucks on your clit, and when you tug at his hair he lets out a growl that reverberates against your core and has you clenching around nothing. His tongue quests lower, and you let out a pleasured little sigh as his tongue presses against your slit and then in – the texture of his tongue is rough and textured, and you squirm against his face as he licks at you with such enthusiasm that it leaves you reeling. You know that you’re wet from your own slick already, but Tsu’tey is messy as he slurps at you. His mouth leaves you sodden and dripping, the coarseness of his tongue leaving you gasping as his flat nose bumps and grinds against your clit.

Just then he tilts his head, searching for an angle that lets him slide his tongue deeper in. It's too big – at least, it ought to be too big, but it's hot and wet and thick and your body just wants that, wants him. Caught without any breath to moan, you reach down with both hands and spread your own swollen lips. He licks hard, growling into you, so you feel the sweet thrum of it right on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, oh yes,” You gasp out eagerly, lifting your head so that you can look down at him.

Though his head is still buried between your thighs, the rest of him is moving restlessly.

His hips roll insistently against the soft, spongey moss beneath him. His cock is hard and leaking, the bulbous tip of it glowing insistently as it glints with its sweet little bioluminescent dots. He grinds relentlessly against the soft, cushioned forest floor, grunting out soft little moans of appreciation right into your core.

The sight of him so lost in his own pleasure is both startling and impossibly arousing, and with a short sob you grab hold of his hair, clenching your fists into the roots of his braids. He growls once more, like it's an affirmation, as though he’s acknowledging your wordless noises of desperation.

But then, shockingly abruptly, he pulls his head back and shoves himself back up onto his elbows, looming over you.

“It is not enough.” He says, and you’re absolutely floored to hear the edge of a whine in his voice.

This is Tsu’tey, the proudest man and the fiercest warrior you’ve ever met. To see him like this, sweaty and pouting and frenzied as he humps the ground and tries to bury his whole fucking face inside you, is crazy.

“What do you-” You start to ask, but he seems to have gotten into the habit of interrupting you today. 

His arms hook around your thighs, which had been splayed out over his biceps, and then in a move so fast that you’re not even sure how he manages it, he flips your positions. When you manage to reorient yourself, you find yourself perched on his stomach – he’s the one laying on his back against the moss now.

You start to grin. He may be acting strange (in heat! Your brain screams at you. Your big sexy alien is in heat!), but this position, at least, is familiar. You know how to take care of him like this. You reach to pull your dress over your head, tossing it to the side before looking back to him with a cheeky grin.

“Ah,” You say playfully, glancing over your shoulder before reaching back to grasp his cock where it’s laying proudly against his thigh. “You want me to ride you, big guy?”

Fuck, his cock is hard. It actually surprises you when you wrap your fingers around it – it feels like a goddamn lead pipe.

He lets out a punched out groan as his lip curls back over his teeth, tossing his head back against the moss as he hisses towards the sky. He looks almost feral, lost to his own arousal in a way you’ve never seen before. And yet, what he says next surprises you.

“In a way,” He grunts, his hips twitching as he humps his cock into your small grip. “Sit on my face.”

You still and blink, surprised. “What?”

It’s not that the request is shocking (you’ve never actually done that with him, but damn the request alone has jolts of electric excitement shooting up your spine), but the fact that he’s asking for this when his cock is swollen and oozing insistently against his belly is absolutely bizarre. 

When you release your hold on his dick his hips hump into the air, as though seeking your touch. He looks so desperate – how could he turn down the chance for relief?

"Sit on my face." Tsu’tey repeats, overenunciating each word as though he were talking to someone especially stupid. There’s no way of misunderstanding him this time, and his ears are pressed back against his head as he awaits your response.

“But-” You start, glancing over your shoulder at his painful-looking erection.

His big hands land on your ass, and he uses his grip there to pull you so insistently that you slide right up to his chest. Fucking hell, he’s really insistent about this, and he’s so much bigger than you that manhandling seems to come easily to him.

Hesitantly, you shuffle forward until you’re hovering awkwardly over his face. Like this, naked and exposed as Tsu’tey’s hands continue to pressure at your ass, you feel more flustered than you’d like to admit. Especially considering the way that he’s staring up at you with wide-eyed, open-mouthed eagerness.

“What if I smother you?” You ask, cheeks hot with embarrassment. God, you don’t think you’d be able to live that down.

“I would be proud to meet such a fate.” He grunts, his hands kneading and squeezing at the soft flesh of your ass like a goddamn cat. 

“Fucking hell.” You mutter, but you can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft, breathless laugh.

His impatient eagerness is wearing away at your hesitance, and the next time he tugs at your hips, you allow yourself to be manoeuvred so that you’re lowering yourself over his face. When he purses his lips and blows on your exposed, wet sex, it nearly causes you to overbalance in surprise. 

"Oh!"

"Come," He presses a sloppy kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Let me taste.”

He wraps his forearms around your waist and pulls you down firmly. As soon as you’re settled over his mouth, he starts licking immediately, and you're utterly stunned by the wave of heat that flows through your belly. You have to stick out a hand to grab at his shoulder just to stay upright, your upper body curling over as your hips rock reflexively against the hot, wet heat of his mouth.

"Oh, shit." You blurt, a little overwhelmed as he licks and sucks at you with a single-minded determination that has your thighs trembling around his face in minutes. 

Judging by the pleased little gasps he keeps letting out against you, he doesn’t want to be anywhere else right now. His big hands wrap around your thighs, the size of them making you feel so tiny in comparison as he encourages you to squeeze your thighs around his head.

It doesn't take long before you’re grinding against his face, chasing his tongue against your clit. His mouth is so overwhelmingly hot, so wide and all-encompassing as he sucks at you, and his tongue is so wet and coarse as it rasps against your swollen, sensitive pussy.

You might have been embarrassed about the way you’re humping against his mouth if it weren't for the way that your rocking against his face earns you a soft, hungry whimper from him as he wraps his arms around your back and encourages you to ride his face harder. Your hairline is damp with sweat. You wonder if his tìsom is contagious – it feels like you’re boiling from the inside out.

One of your hands drops down to tangle in his braids, already all messed up from your earlier tugging, and a hard suck to your clit has you jerking over his face, accidentally yanking at the fistful of hair in your hand. You’re not expecting the way he gasps, or the way his hips thrust into the air behind you.

"Oh fuck," You gasp. "Do you like doing this that much? Are you- can you breathe? Will you tell me if you-"

Tsu’tey makes an impatient sort of sound before tilting his head back from his position between your legs. His chest is heaving, and his brow glitters with sweat — he looks ethereally beautiful, and you’re stuck for a moment about how damn lucky you are. 

“Ma’tawtute, the tìsom will rage until I have satisfied my urges,” He says on a sigh, the proud slope of his brow all furrowed with need. “Allow me to satisfy myself with my mate.”

Well, fuck. How could you ever deny him that?

"Yeah," You choke, your eyes fixed on his mouth; it's swollen red and shiny, and you can't stop looking at it as he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “Okay. Please, then-”

You don’t need to finish your request. As usual, he reads you without you ever having to say a goddamn thing.

He just grins, wild and unrestrained and looking truly fucking feral, before ducking his head back to start licking eagerly at you all over again. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy at this stage, but even worse than that are the whimpers that you can't quite keep from spilling over. When your hand clenches and tugs at his hair, he lets out a pleased moan that vibrates right up into your core.

This time when he digs his long fingers into the soft meatiness of your thighs and encourages you to rock against his face, you do so without question. You’re rewarded with a throaty, whiney hiss, and his hips thrust sharply up into the air when you grind your clit down into his waiting tongue. 

You can hear the slap of his cock against his belly as he humps the air, and you gasp at the sheer sensation of it all. It feels as though your nerves have been set alight.

"Fuck," You whisper, grinding down on his tongue. "I- there-! Shit, Tsu’tey, I-" 

You’re really not making all that much sense, but he seems to like your flustered desperation because his hips continue to thrust lazily as he dry humps the air. That just isn't enough for him, apparently, because he releases one of your thighs as his right hand snakes down so he can touch himself while he eats you out.

 The slick sounds of him working his cock are mostly drowned out by the soft, breathy moans he keeps making into your pussy every time he licks into you. His stomach keeps tensing as his hips flex, throaty hisses muffled by you and the way you’re rocking into his mouth.

When Tsu’tey had told you to sit on his face, you hadn't actually thought he would get anything out of it. Perhaps that's why watching him fall apart between your legs is so compelling, and it's causing the sweet, hot tension in your lower belly to coil tighter and tighter until you’re a trembling wreck, ready to shatter apart.

“Oh,” You breathe, your eyes squeezing shut as you clutch at his hair and gasp. “I’m- I’m going to-”

“Yes,” He snarls, still muffled between your legs. “Do it, so sweet, let me taste-”

You’re not the only one close to release – you can tell by the way his hips are bucking, the way that animalistic little growls are tearing their way out of his chest, how fast and rough his fist is pumping at the swollen length of his cock.

When his tongue dips into your folds and locates your clit with absolute precision, your back arches as you come with a little scream. 

You grab at his hair to try and keep his head in place, but he doesn't slow at all as he continues to suckle at you through your orgasm. In fact, his one remaining hand actually clutches at your ass to encourage you to ride it out on his face.

By the time the waves of your orgasm begin to ebb away, you’re shivering and bordering on the edge of overstimulation. And yet, you can’t bring yourself to pull away. Not when he’s suckling at the slickness of your release as though he can’t get enough of it, and not when his goddamn toes are curling into the glowing moss beneath you as he fucks his cock into his own fist.

The sight of him so lost in his own pleasure is both startling and impossibly arousing, and you let out a quiet little noise of surprise as you watch the dots on his cock flicker right as the head pulses. Then he’s growling, his chest rumbling with the force of it as his release erupts from him, ropes of creamy cum spurting onto his belly.

Finally, you pull away from his face, falling back onto his chest with a wheezy gasp. There are still aftershocks of pleasure rocking through you as you shiver; the two of you are sweat-slick and overheated, panting and gasping, but you savour the feeling of Tsu’tey’s naked skin against yours as you clumsily push yourself down so that you’re laying across his chest.

Still catching your breath, you reach out to cup his face fondly. “Oh fuck, look at you.”

When he raises his head, you’re greeted with the sight of his face slick and shiny from his own drool and your release. He’s so messy and his eyes are still blown wide, his ears twitching as his brow slackens into an expression of pleasure. The dots around his face are still glowing, but the intensity of it has dimmed for now.

Your own body goes slack against his, your masked face nestling into his shoulder. The cum on his belly squelches a little when you settle over him, and you can’t help the tired snicker that escapes you.

“So,” You mumble in an exhausted little drawl. “Are you satisfied, big guy?”

That gets you a laugh in response. It’s a rumbly sort of chuckle, and you enjoy the way his chest vibrates under yours. To your surprise, he doesn’t sound as tired as you might have expected. He’s caught his breath much faster than you have, despite the fact that he has significantly more reason than you to be winded.

“It is tìsom, foolish thing.” He murmurs, nuzzling his soft nose into your temple. You can feel him bear his teeth in a grin against your hair. “I will not be satisfied until it is done.”

That’s when you feel the hot, thick press of him against the sensitive, puffy flesh of your pussy. He’s still so hard, as though he had never come at all. Your heart skips, belly clenching in excitement.

Well. You were his little human mate, after all. If he needed help with his tìsom, his heat, of course you would help him out with it. 

The swollen head of his cock catches against the slickness of your pussy, and you moan softly as he presses just slightly into you, just enough to tease you with the stretch of it.

It seems like you have a long night ahead of you.

[shadowsndaisies]

dogfighting 101: 06 - dead and buried

wc: 1.6k

synopsis: if it wouldn't result in a court martial or a dishonorable discharge, you probably would punch that stupid mustache off his face.

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

Your last run had been with Payback and Fanboy, you failed.

After, you sat and listened as Bradley almost got both himself and your dad killed. Jake’s running commentary doing nothing for your nerves. When all three came back from their run, you were stood in your black tank top and your flight suit rolled down and tied around your waist. Your sunglasses were perched on your nose, blocking the glare you had hyper-fixated on the idiots walking your way.

“’Thena! Darlin’!” Hangman’s drawl always seemed to emphasize your callsign, often dropping the first A, and elongating the E. Usually the way he says your name could get you to smile, but this time your gaze doesn’t even flicker to him, a stark contrast to just last round, when the two of you had been giddy off of catching Maverick with tone.

“Keep walking, Seresin,” you say seriously, and for the first time Rooster can ever admit to, Hangman simply does as he’s told. He doesn’t argue with you, or tease you. He doesn’t even glare or smirk cockily back at those left to face off with your ire, in fact, if anything, it looks like the smile all but melts from his face. Instead, he just keeps walking, not even bothering to look back, and Rooster’s brows furrow, because not for the first time today he’s left wondering what had the two of you been through to develop the relationship you had?

“What the hell were you thinking?” you all but hiss, pulling your shades off, so Bradley can see the full force of your glare.

He doesn’t know why he says it, he knows it’s not the right thing, or the right time, but he scoffs, and he sees your jaw shift at the sound, “So, now you want to talk to me?” he asks, and Maverick who had kept a distance, walking further behind him and Jake, was now catching up and was forced to stop as he watched the two of you face off, Bradley didn’t miss his sharp inhale at the tone you both were giving off.

“Don’t pull that bullshit with me Bradley!” you shout back.

“Bullshit?” he finally shouts back, and Bradley has to admit, part of it, of yelling at you, it feels really good. “It’s been twelve years since we’ve spoken! Nine since I’ve heard anything from you!”

“And whose fault is that?” that shuts him up, because now he knows you’re done pulling punches. “Whose fault was that Bradley Bradshaw?”

“I never meant for it to go like this,” is all Bradley can offer you, his voice suddenly weak as he pushes his own sunglasses up to look you in the eyes.

“Yes, you did,” you argue back, shaking your head at him.

“No, (Y/n)-” he tries to reach for you, as if it would help in making you understand.

“Yes, you did, Bradley!” you smack his hand away and instead point at him accusingly. “You did, because you were the one who said what you said, you were the one who took the insecurities I trusted with you and twisted them, the one who said all the hateful things you could think of, and then to top it off, you were the one who gave me an ultimatum!” you’re screaming at him, and he’s glad the tarmac’s basically empty now, because he’s sure that if Warlock or Cyclone heard about this, you’d both be booted from the program and probably given a formal reprimand.

Bradley also doesn’t know how to respond.

So instead he gapes at you. How does he explain how hurt he was to you? How does tell you he knows how wrong he was to say what he said and demand what he did? How does he apologize after hiding behind emails for the last twelve years.

He stumbles over that, hiding, because that’s what he’d been doing, isn’t it? And he was stupid enough to trick himself into thinking you would see it any differently.

“You made a decision, over a decade ago. You threw away a friendship that mattered. You threw away lifelines, and people who cared about you, and you did it without even asking for the whole picture,” you tell him, venom dripping from every word. “Let me make myself perfectly clear, Rooster. I have no intention of trying to resurrect what you killed and I was left to bury twelve years ago, but we’re both here, and so is Dad. So get your shit together, because the stakes are too high to be living in the past,” his shoulders drop and you hold firm as you finally make the point you’d intended to bring up.

You stare at him hard for a second before brushing past him and heading straight for your dad. He sees it in the hand movements, the stance, you’re laying into him. Probably equally pissed about the the corkscrew cobra maneuver, that he and Mav had just pulled. There is however noticeably less tension in you as you yell at your dad.

Bradley finds himself stuck for a moment, with the realization of how much anger and hurt was in your voice as you spoke with him. He had been too hopeful, he realizes, to think that emailing you would fix what he had broken. Too stupid to consider the real weight of what he had said, and how much more it meant coming from him than anyone else.

He finally forces himself to look away and walk back toward the hangar. He is extremely annoyed to see Hangman standing there. A witness to the mess that had just occurred. Though he doubted Hangman could hear much if at all. The other pilot rarely needed a reason to give someone a hard time (except you it seemed).

Bradley geared up for another argument, or at least a dig, but Hangman didn’t even acknowledge him as he approached. Instead, he kept his gaze on you, brows squinted, focused. Bradley slinks past him, bewildered at the flip, but gets stopped before he can fully exit the hangar.

“Getting killed on day one would be pretty counter-intuitive to wanting to go on this mission, and it might even make her hate you more, which I honestly didn’t think was possible.”

Hangman’s voice echoes a bit, but he doesn’t turn to look at Rooster, not even when the older pilot turns to look at him. Instead, Hangman stays focused on you, and you alone, and Bradley is left wondering what the fuck? once again, because that has to be the least contentious thing Jake’s ever said to him, and Bradley know that it’s solely for your benefit.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes @geeksareunique @je6291 @kee-0-kee @fanreader75 @whoismurphyslaw @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @thespillingvoid

[amourluvie]

ㅤ𓊆݄݄݄݄፝֟𓊆݄݄݄݄፝֟𓊆݄݄݄݄፝֟𓊆݄݄݄݄፝֟𓊇 ׄ 𝓖℘ You fell first, she fell harder. An ada wong x fem reader ! ׅ 𓊇

Made this due to my ada brainrot,I need her desperately ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

( requests open )

You and ada,were bestfriends.or so you liked to think,ignoring the butterflies in your stomach whenever you saw her, whenever she would look at you with her eyes,shimmering with sweet adoration.her smile made you feel all fuzzy inside,

but you knew she probably didn't liked you back and locked your feelings for her inside of you,never finding the key to finally open them to her , little did you know , she loved you too.

Way more than you think. "Hey y/n" she said with a tone sweet as honey, her voice like beautiful Gospels in your ears as you immediately respond her , flashing a soft smile at her. "Yes ada?" You questioned, curiosity sparking inside you as you await for her answer. "There's something I have been to tell you." you gulped, what was she gonna tell me? "What..is it?" You asked anxiously.

Afraid of the countless possibilities that could happen right now. "You know ...you are one of the only people I trust right?.."

she said as anxiety started to take over your mind, what did she meant by that? Did I do something wrong? "Yeah ...?" You asked nervously ,

being even more afraid than before, "you know...when I first met you,I knew you were different than the others,the way you always were there for me even at the worst and stayed with me no matter what despite how much of a bad person I am,whenever I see you smile or laugh because of me , theres wonderful feelings blossoming into my chest, a feeling I don't feel with other people," you blushed at her sweet words, not knowing what to say . "And I feel like it's love,the feeling that ties two people together until the day die, y/n I want to feel you in my embrace and shower you with my love,not even heaven probably feels complete without you my dear,I love you." She confessed,pink blush tainted her cheeks,

as you started to think you were dreaming,there's no way she , a goddess herself would be drawn to you that much. "R-really ...?" You asked for confirmation,being in complete denial,

"yes you idiot. I knew you were the one that's gonna grow old with me ever since the first time I met you." You couldn't believe it. Tears of joy started to flow down your cheeks,this is the best day of your life . "Ada I love you too !!!" As you hugged her tight ,burying your head into her chest, afraid that she will slip away like it's a dream, "I love you more and will cherish you till the day I die." She chuckled happily,pulling and hugging you even tighter,wrapping her hands over your waist. Planting a kiss on your forehead.

[lunarisntlee]

VR Chaos

TW: Has some restraints, Val making a dirty joke

Valentino had somehow encouraged Vox into trying out virtual reality, or VR. Little did the tv head know what he was getting himself into when he agreed to this.

“So uhhhh- Val you sure about this weird ass simulation shit?” The overlord eyes the moth demon suspiciously as Valentino seems to be grinning wickedly.

For some reason, Vox was tied down to a chair out of Valentino’s request, and he just can’t deny him. Even if the request is a little odd…

Valentino chuckles to himself as he stands over his partner, having secured his beloved tv’s arms and legs to a chair. He was sure that Vox would not take kindly to this but he knew in the end he would enjoy himself.

“Don’t you worry, babydoll. I’m sure you’re going to love this” He responds while grinning down at his now restrained other half.

As Valentino turns away from him and turns to get the headset, Vox gives a slight glare towards his moth-demon. Though in truth, he knows that this is something that they have wanted to try out for some time now. It’s just that no matter how hard he tries to protest, Val just always seems to have a way of convincing him to do things.

“I swear to Lucifer’s left ass cheek if you use this against me, you’re in for a rough night, moth-man” The overlord responds with a hint of irritation in his voice, yet not fully resisting.

“Oh I’m sure I’ll have a rough night if y’know what I mean~” Valentino responds back with a slight chuckle in his voice. The moth then turns over to face his partner in the chair as he holds the VR headset with one of his lower arms.

“You did not just- seriously- ugh never mind.” Vox grumbles in response to the dirty joke.

“Now now, my little video star let’s get you plugged in”

Vox gives a slight grimace in response as Valentino walks over and stands infront of the tv-demon, with headset in hand.

“Oh, fine” he huffs out as he tilts his screen back to allow the other to slide on the tech to his head. He then returns his screen back to look up at the other as he feels the strap tighten around his head to keep it in place.

“Now you just sit back and enjoy the show, amorcito~” Valentino grins down at the other, his eyes holding a hint of wickedness in them.

Vox rolls his eyes slightly at this but does not complain any further. “Yeeeaaahh I’m sure I will” he responds sarcastically.

With a quick flick of his hand, the lights in the moth’s office dim slightly as Valentino then taps a button on the side of the VR headset and flicks a couple of other switches to the side of the chair. Vox gives a slight grumble at being put into complete darkness except for the small white loading symbol on his screen.

“You’ll thank me for this~” Valentino responds from somewhere above him as he watches the overlord’s screen.

Vox lets out a huff at this, knowing that the moth-demon has put him into another experience that will probably leave him flustered in the end. The white circle finally loads completely as the scene around him flickers to life. The virtual world around him was a very similar place that he was used to seeing at his own tower. His large and modern living room surrounded him in all directions yet seemed to have an oddly empty look to it. Everything was in its normal position as the tv-demon glanced around the room, yet there was something that felt slightly off about the room. Maybe it was because it didn’t have Val’s tacky furniture.

As Vox looks around his faux living room, he can’t help but feel just a little unnerved by the silence around him. The emptiness in the room was almost unsettling, something that he had never been used to feeling in his own home. “Val…what’s the point of putting me in my own home if there’s nothing in it?” He calls out to the other as his screen glances around the room once more.

Valentino chuckles softly to himself as he watches Vox’s screen. “Patience, my little video star, you’ll figure it out soon enough~” The moth demon responds from somewhere behind the tv demon. As Vox looks around the room once more, he suddenly sees two white hands magically appear in front of him. He jolts back in surprise, his screen glitching out slightly as he stares at the two white hands that seemed to have appeared from nowhere just in front of him. He then hears the other’s chuckle behind him as the moth overlord’s voice rings out.

The fingers start to wiggle.

Vox watches the two white hands in front of him, noticing the fingers wiggling at him. He frowns a little as the fingers continue to move about as he feels a shiver run down his spine. “Val, what the he-“ He starts to say but is suddenly cut off as the hands suddenly reach forward and brush against his virtual sides. He can’t feel any of it, but it was still flustering to look at.

The hands continue to brush his virtual sides a few times as Vox jolts in the chair, feeling the ghostly touch against his body through the simulation. He then hears a chuckle behind him once more as Valentino continues to watch his screen, seeing all the sensations that the tv-demon was feeling through the VR headset.

“Oh? Is my little video star a little sensitive?” Valentino teases as he watches Vox’s screen. The moth’s eyes were enjoying watching his partner squirm in the chair as the two hands continue to brush against his sides. It was torturous watching the hands scribble against the virtual sides of his, almost as if he was being tickled himself. His screen starts to turn red.

“Sh-shuhuhut up!” Vox stutters out as he lets out a sharp laugh-like squeak before he can stop himself. He immediately feels flustered by this response, as the hands continue to brush up and down his sides. The sensations were definitely affecting him more than he cared to admit but he didn’t want to give the other the satisfaction.

“Awww~ I got that cute laugh out of you~” Valentino teasingly coos at the other. He was glad to hear the familiar sound of the squeak, knowing how much it usually embarrassed the tv demon when he made the sound. The hands then move up and begin to scribble against the virtual demon’s underarms.

The phantom feeling of the hands against the sensitive area immediately made the tv-demon let out a loud, high-pitched squeak and attempt to jerk out of the chair, forgetting that he was tied down to it by Valentino. “Nahaha! Nonohoho! Y-You hahbastard! This is mahahaking me look weak!” He calls out to the moth-demon as he tries to look behind himself but his view is blocked by the headset.

“No no, I’m just helping you realise that you are in fact ticklish, mi cariño~“ The moth responds in an overly sweet tone, still enjoying the reaction that the tv was having. He grins to himself as he watches the hands now scribble around the sides of the screen, enjoying the fact that he knows this is getting to him now.

“Besides, I know how much you secretly love being tickled anyway~” He chuckles.

Vox’s screen turns a bright shade of red at the moth-demon’s words, as he tries to wriggle in the chair. It was true, he secretly loved this but he would never ever admit it, especially not to Valentino. He knew the other would never let him hear the end of it.

As the ticklish simulation continues, he lets out another loud squeak as the hands move down to his virtual thighs, scribbling along the sensitive area.

Valentino watches in amusement from the reactions that the tv screen was making as he continued to attempt to resist the tickles, but was failing miserably. The moth then grins to himself as he has an idea that will get the other to crack. “You know, I wonder just how much of a sweet, little laugh I can get out of you, baby doll~” He coos out as he then types something into his tablet.

Vox lets out a huff of irritation as Valentino types something on his tablet, his screen still bright red as the hands continue to tickle his now virtual thighs. “You can try but you’re not-“

He’s cut off in shock as suddenly more pairs of hands suddenly appear and begin to scribble across his entire virtual body all at once. This causes the tv to start squirming and giggling desperately, his screen showing all the sensations running through him.

After about an hour of torturing the stupid tv man, Valentino finally lets him be free. It takes Vox a few moments to get himself together before saying.

“Now do it for real chicken.” He mocks the moth, while the taller demon grins devilishly.

“As you wish mi amor~”

[leapingbadger]

Delivery

Summary: While on the famous Nerf Nugget delivery for Cid, Hunter and Echo clash over their philosophies and future plans.

Word Count: 1,323

Read on AO3

***

“Was that the last crate?” Echo asked as Hunter made his way up the step of the marauder.

“Uhuh,” Hunter replied, tossing the case of credits at him in the pilot seat.

“What’s our cut?” Echo asked.

“Not enough,” Hunter grumbled.

Delivering nerf nuggets wasn’t exactly the best use of his expertise he thought as he sank into the co-pilot seat.

“I’m not sure why Cid only sent the two of us on this mission.” Echo said, flicking a few switches above him and making the Marauder roar to life.

“It’s a delivery, Echo, not a mission. It didn’t require the whole team.”

“Maybe she’s got something else in mind for the others that she didn’t share,” Echo said pointedly.

Hunter paused and sighed, “I wouldn’t put it past her. The sooner we get going to sooner we get back and see what they’ve been up to.”

“Well, let’s hope she doesn’t try to sell any of them.” Echo said, eyebrow raised.

Hunter rolled his eyes and chuckled, “I did apologize for that multiple times.”

Echo laughed as he guided the ship through the dark grey clouds, “I know. Maybe next time we’ll sell you.”

Hunter laughed. “I’m not sure I’d make a very good droid,” he said, taking a bite out of a ration stick and putting his foot up on the console.

“You ever think of going into the entertainment business? There are a couple of Twi’lek’s at Cids who I know would pay for your company,”

“ECHO!” Hunter threw his half-eaten ration bar at his brother. Echo’s Arc trooper training came in handy as he ducked out of the way and shoved Hunter’s shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

As they cleared the atmosphere Echo pulled the lever sending them into the hypnotic blue swirls of hyperspace. Hunter watched his brother relax in the pilot seat and tear the top off his own ration bar. He sniffed it wearily before taking a hesitant bite.  Hunter smiled, Echo did this every time he ate.

“It’s probably time to cut ties with Cid.” he said, his mouth full and muffled.

“I know,” Hunter said, running his hand though his hair. “But then what do we do? We need credits, clothes, food, fuel…”

“We could get in touch with Rex. Join his network…” Echo said. The blue light of hyperspace bouncing off the metal parts inserted into his skull.

He mentioned it casually, like it had just come to mind but Hunter knew he’d been ruminating on it since they’d last seen Rex on Bracca. Hunter hung his head as silence permeated the air and he thought how to respond. He wanted to be sensitive, show Echo that he understood the pull to his old squad mate. But his hesitation to speak seemed to give Echo impetus to continue.

“If we worked with Rex we could use his support system, senators, mechanics… we could do something that matters.”

“Keeping us safe and together matters, Echo.” Hunter said quietly.

He felt Echo’s eyes on him and lifted his head to meet them. The Arc trooper’s intense golden gaze was impossible to turn away from and very difficult to say no to. Hunter had learned that the hard way over the last few months.

“We’re meant for more than this, Hunter.” Echo said seriously. “You know that.”

“You sound like Crosshair,” Hunter said, involuntarily wincing at the mention of his lost brother’s name.

“He’s not right about a lot these days. But he was right about that.” Echo said gruffly.

Hunter shot him a look but again said nothing. Time as the leader of the squad had afforded him some perspective and learning to hold his tongue or wait to voice an opinion was one of the enduring lessons he took with him.

“I understand your hesitation, but we’d not be putting much more on the line than we do now.” Echo continued unabated.

“You know why we can’t do that.” Hunter said firmly.

“Why? because of Omega?”

Hunter sighed. Of course, it was because of Omega. She should have a peaceful life, An actual childhood. Over the last few months she’d been shot at, chased, kidnapped and almost died in a sinking city. She needed a break. He needed a break.

“She’s a child. She deserves…” Hunter looked around as though the right words would fall from the blue clouds of hyperspace, “…I don’t know, safety, peace, a family…”

“We tried to give her that with Cut and Suu, Hunter. She ran. She chose us, she chose this.” He gestured to the Marauder, scattered with bits of machinery, blankets, empty food wrappers and debris.

“She’s our responsibility, Echo. We have to make the best decision for her and the rest of the squad. Even if it’s not necessarily what we want.”

Echo stood up in frustration and slammed his scomp into the durasteel siding. Hunter watched as he walked to the back of the ship, left hand on his hip, his boots clanging on the grated floor.

It was rare for Echo to lose his temper. That was one of the reasons Hunter enjoyed having him as a member of the squad. With the big personalities of Wrecker, Tech and Crosshair, when he was with them, Echo was steady and sound. He was another voice of reason that Hunter could always rely on.

The light on Echo’s metal headpiece flickered rapidly and Hunter wondered if that was a visual clue to Echo’s racing thoughts. Hunter forced himself up to continue the conversation, knowing he probably wouldn’t like the outcome.

He sank into the red chair next to the communication array and swiveled. Echo knew he was there but kept his back to him for a moment longer. They had had a similar conversation on their way to Serenno, in the exact same spot.

“I understand that this isn’t what you signed up for when you joined us,” Hunter said softly “It isn’t something I would have signed up for either. But this isn’t a fight we can win. I don’t like running anymore than you do, it’s not in my nature but some things are more important. Keeping Omega safe is more important. Keeping you all alive is more important. I can’t change the fundamentals of our situation. But I understand if this isn’t where you want to be anymore.”

Hunter kept his head down but looked up at Echo, like he was taming a wounded animal. Echo’s large eyes flickered left and right as though searching for the right words.

“I lost so much time on Skako. I’m not sure how much more time I’m willing to…sacrifice, when I know I could be making a difference.” Echo said.

“I respect that.” Hunter responded gently, trying to keep as much emotion out of his voice as possible. He didn’t want Echo to leave. Didn’t want to be responsible for the desertion of another brother. But just like Crosshair, if that’s what he chose, who was Hunter to get in the way?

“I don’t want to leave,” Echo said. The corners of Hunter mouth ticked up and he tried his best to hide it but failed, “I know your jobs not easy, keeping us together and in one piece.” Hunter nodded, thankful for the acknowledgement. “But I’m not going to be able to do this forever.”

“Understood.” Hunter said. He clapped Echo on the shoulder and started to head back to the cockpit.

“Hunter?”

“Hmm?”

“I can’t believe I’ve never asked this before but what do you want?”

“What do you mean?” Hunter responded, confused.

“Out of life. What do you want?” Echo asked again, his gravely voice curious.

Hunter shrugged, “I dunno, nothing much. Settle on a remote planet somewhere. Watch Omega grow up. We could all have our own space but be close. You know, peace, I guess.”

“Hmm” said Echo with a wistful smile. “Sounds nice.”

“Maybe one day,” Hunter said.

[itsmebytch001]

How about a yandere Morales family x reader who is friends with miles because they used ti go to school together that is very clearly neglected. Sometimes sleeping on the streets, never home, always eats a lot at their house yet still remains relatively malnourished and Jeffe finally decides after seeing some bruises on the reader to take matters into his own hands and use his position as police captain to “foster”(kidnap) the reader who is very not onboard.

Or if ur not comfortable with that then they genuinely start fostering the reader and they are not having a good time adjusting to present parents that make them eat 3 meals and be home at 9 stuff like that

You and Miles met at around 9 when your family moved to Brooklyn, he got on with you and once he started bringing you home it was instantly obvious to both Rio and Jeff that something was wrong, you were always messy and disheveled, wearing unwashed torn clothing with shoes with the soles beginning to come off You were 9 but could pass for 7 and barley knew how to use cutlery, and once they eventually met your Mom and Dad it became apparent that though they were not malicious of outwardly abusive, they were massively neglectful.

It became routine that you would come over every Friday, shower, and eat dinner, and take food home with you, Rio would hand you 3 tubber wear boxes full of all sorts of her cooking, and sometimes they would even give Miles old clothes. Jeff would always drive you back home since no 9 year old can be expected to trek it form one brough to another, and once he pulled up outside your building he would escort you back to your front door, and with the few gimpses he saw of your home, bugs crawling, a water collapsed ceiling tile, the brow carpet, not brown because it was brown, but the collected filth he knew that this place, and these people were not fit for a child to be raised.

Jeff entered his home, Miles had been put to sleep while Rio sat on the couch with a glass of wine.

Rio: "So how was it?"

Jeff sat down in a huff next to his wife.

Jeff: "That place looks like a trap house Rio, it had black mold" he rubbed his hands over his face.

Rio: "Is it possible you could just...take her?"

Jeff: "No, not yet not with out probable cause"

Rio: "Is a house with black mold and uncaring parents not enough?!"

Jeff: "No, not for awhile"

Rio: "Dios mío, well...the least we can do is keep her clean and fed huh?"

Jeff: "I guess"

Rio: "What about social services?"

Jeff: "That'll just mean to lose her to the system, we won't be able to keep an eye on her"

Rio: "Oh...I'll give Miles some extra lunches to pass on to her come Monday" She said gulping down a swig of red.

Jeff: "Good idea"

And it was because of their efforts to keep you fed that you finally grew, now you actually looked your age, and needless to say The Morales had brought you into their family not as a guest, but as a member. And for your 11th birthday since by this point you had turned up to school with solles shoes Rio brought you new trainers, while Jeff brought you a selection of new tops.

Of course you being uncustomed to such kindness you responded oddly.

Rio: "Happy birthday baby" She handed you a box, and once you opened it it revealed new shoes!

Y/n: "...are these for me?"

Jeff: "Of course there for you Y/n, it's your birthday!"

Y/n: "I'm not sure if I should take these, I'm very grateful I'm just not sure what my Mom will say"

Rio: "What do you mean?"

Of course you parents had noticed you putting on weight, coming home in new clothing and initally they were grateful to Rio and Jeff for helping out, but it felt more and more like they were taking you away, or like they were trying to replace them.

Miles had also reported you coming to school less at less by the time you were 12, your attendance got so out of hand that eventually Jeff came to do a house visit, he knocked on the door, Your Mom came to the door.

Jeff: "Hey Diana, uh I'm here to do a wellness check on your Y/n"

Diana: "Oh, Jefferson sure, I guess"

Jeff: "Can I come in?"

Diana: "Sure" And so your Mom escorted Jeff back to through your home, when you finally saw the extent of the condtions you were living in, and it was terrible. Opening the door to your room Jeff could see your mattress was on the floor with no sheet, all your clothing lived in pile since there was no wardrobe and you sat on the floor drawing in just a massive t shirt.

Diana: "See, she's well isn't she?" She sassed at him, all Jeff wanted in this moment was to snatch you up take you home and get you cleaned, and in some clothing that actually fit so you didn't look like just a head floating in fabric, but of course being a police capiatin made that legally impossible.

Y/n: "Oh, Hey Mr Morales"

Jeff: "Hey Y/n"

Y/n: "What are you doing here?"

Jeff: "just a wellness check"

Diana: "Your well aren't you Y/n?" She's not asking you, she's telling you.

Y/n: "...Yeah I'm fine"

Diana: "We good officer?"

To be honest, if he were social services he could take you but he simply did not have the authority, Jeff was hushed back into the hallway by Diana.

Jeff: "Diana, Y/n's been out of school for 2 weeks now, why hasn't she been in school?"

Diana: "She's been sick"

Jeff: "Well she looks fine"

Diana: "Then why are you here doing a wellness check?"

Jeff: "Ugh, Diana, If Y/n dosen't turn up to another day of school, I'll get CPS you under stand?"

Diana: "are you threating me?"

Jeff: "No, I'm doing my job" he said waving you goodbye as he exited the house.

Jeff and Rio sat with their son at the dinner table, Rio and Jeff had been cracking a plan to file for emergency custody of you for awhile now, but since you aren't blood they knew it wouldn't be easy, but they also thought it would be good as ask Miles what he thought about the idea of taking you in full time.

Rio: "hijo, what would you think about Y/n moving in with us?"

Jeff:" Full time"

Miles: "Like, forever?"

Jeff: "Yeah..."

Miles: "Is that possible?"

Rio: "It might be"

Miles: "I'd like that"

And so with Miles on board Rio and Jeff started the paper work process to file for emergency custody, and with the helps of CPS they finally had a case, but it wasn't enough, they needed proof of abuse not just neglect, and so they waited, 2 whole years for such proof to emerge.

You had come over on anther Friday for dinner as you often did and had been doing for the past 5 years now, but something was deeply off, you were quite, timid and apprehensive to speak, but the thing that really worried Rio was all the concealer you were wearing on your left eye, honestly it was strange that Jeff didn't notice since the makeup wasn't yours, it was yours Mom's the shade wasn't quite right and drew more attention to your eye, and what was underneath it.

She didn't want to adress it in front of everyone so she waited until later in the evening to confront you about it, while you wear in the bathroom, getting ready for your shower she knocked on the door, before you took off anything of course.

Rio: "Y/n...Can we talk for a sec?"

Y/n: "Uhh yeah I guess" You opened the door to her as she closed the door behind her.

Rio: "Baby, I can see your wearing a lot of makeup, especially round your eye, and I just wanted to check if everything was okay?"

Y/n: "Yeah Yeah...I was just trying to do come conclear"

Rio: "Uh huh...well, could you take it off for me please?"

Y/n: "...no"

Rio: "And why not"

Y/n: "I...I just want to shower Mrs Morales"

Rio: "Y/n we've been over this, You call me Tita, and really why won't you take off all that makeup?"

Y/n: "Tita...please I don't want to talk about it"

Rio:" So something is wrong, huh?"

Y/n: "...I don't want to talk about it"

Rio: "I don't care, your staying at my home I want to see whatever your hiding" she said sternly, handing you a makeup wipe.

And so you compiled begging to rub off all the makeup you had spent about half a hour applying, despite anticipating what she would see it still hurt her to see you with a black eye.

Rio: "Oh...Oh Y/n My poor baby"

Y/n: "Can...Can you please not tell Jeff"

Rio understood why, but this was the proof of abuse they needed.

Rio: "Was it your Mom?"

Y/n: "Yeah...but please don't tell Jeff"

Rio: "This is an assault, you need to tell Jeff he can help you"

Y/n: "I really don't want her arrested"

Rio: "I know... but if she's hitting you it's clearly worse than we thought"

Needless to say it wasn't a pleasant experiecne having to show your bruised face to Jefferson and Miles, though he obivoulsy wasn't happy that you were attacked but this was the proof they needed to push for custody, now all they needed was to report it and make a record of the incident, but it was so obvious you were tired and due to the circumstances, Jeff firmly belived the courts wouldn't to too upest if they kept you just one night.

Jeff: "Y/n...We think its best if you stay with us for awhile"

Y/n: "Like...this weekend?"

Jeff: "Well, maybe a little while longer"

Y/n: "But my Mo-"

Jeff: "If your Mom is hitting, I can't just let you go back"

Y/n: "But what about my stuff?"

Jeff: "I can drive over tmorrow and pick you up whatever you need"

Y/n: "I can't...I can't just leave what if she-"

Jeff placed a hand on your shoulder.

Jeff: "Y/n, we will take care of it, you understand?"

Y/n: "...okay"

Rio: "I'll pull out the couch for you M'kay? I'll lend you a pair of my PJ's"

Y/n: "Okay, yeah please""

It was all so fast, you didn't realise in agreeing to stay the weekend in their minds you were agreeing to being their daughter...

To be continued...

Feel Free to give me Dad! Aaron or Morales Family suggestions!

[pettytiredandjewish]

israel has purposefully bombed over half of gaza's hospitals, does that sit right with you? populated hospitals, too.

i havent seen you provide a single source to prove israel's innocence — everything you've said about palestinians is pure word-of-mouth and blatantly untrue. someone called you out on it and you basically responded with "nuh-uh."

you follow a bingo blog that says the prize is the entirety of palestine? do you understand how fucked up that is? you're not as morally correct as you think you are.

Its war- hospitals, homes, stores, etc sadly do get bombed during war. It’s happened throughout history- it’s messed up but it’s part of war. I’m not a heartless bitch- all the civilians who had lost their lives in this war along other wars that had broken out- I do pray that their memories are a blessing and that their families can find peace and comfort during their time of mourning. But on the flip side- Hamas is also doing the same thing too (bombing wise), but I’m guessing that you don’t care about that. By your logic- what about Russia and Ukraine? Hospitals, homes, stores, etc are also getting destroyed in that war. Along with the wars that���s happening throughout the Middle East. Do those people matter? Do you care about their dead? Or is it only about Palestinians? I only ask this because I’ve seen people only care about Palestinians being killed and ignoring the others who are affected by this war or ignoring other current horrible wars happening and their dead.

And let’s go back to Hamas- you do know that they also to blame for this? They also bombed their own hospital (and probably more). They also use hospitals as their bases- does that not disturb you? They are literally putting their civilians in danger. They are using their own civilians as human shields. Any resources- food,water, other essentials that is meant to go to the civilians- Hamas is taking them and using it for themselves. Let’s not forget that Hamas is a terrorist group with ties/connections to isis and other groups too.

Let’s talk about 10/7. Hamas full on invaded Israel bombed them. They kidnapped/k*lled/r**** Israeli citizens. They burned down homes to lure out civilians who were hiding in them. They also impersonated IDF soldiers. Hamas still are holding hostages and treating them horribly. Then they tried to play the good guys and “clean” up the freed hostages to make it look like they were treated well. They are still holding hostages and Hamas is now treating it like a sick saw game of executing them. Are you disturbed by this?

Of course Israel was gonna defend itself after what happened! They had the right to defend itself. Any country in their shoes would have done the same thing. By your logic- do you blame Ukraine for defending itself when Russia invaded them? Also does the Israeli government have issues? Yes- but so does all the other governments too. So blaming all of Israel and Jews (because asshats are blaming Jews) is pointless because they- the civilians are not at fault. It’s like blaming all of America for what happened in the Middle East- I can tell you right now that the majority of us Americans did not want that war. But our government did not give a damn and still don’t (they don’t even care about us civilians but that’s another story)

I can keep going- about the propaganda that Hamas is spreading, the antisemitism that is on the rise because people always blame the Jews, etc… but I’ve already talked about that.

As for sources? It’s not my job to find reliable information about what’s happening for you- you can do that. (I’m not gonna hold your hand and guide you.) Look at where you are getting your information from. Is it from the news? Or did you get it from social media/tic tok? Be very wary of information you get from social media and tic tok because it mostly will contain misinformation- not always but still be cautious. Even be careful about information you are getting from the news because it can be biased. I look and score through various sources from all over the board- it does take time and patience but I’m pretty confident with my findings.

As for the bingo- I’m positive that the person who created that bingo board already explained why it was created. You can look it up if you want.

Am yisrael chai! ✡️

[nyuusayuri]

Captain Koby x Reader

Unbreakable Bonds [Part 1/3]

Warnings: Upcoming smut in Part 2, slight swearing, mention of smoking

I apologize for upcoming spelling mistakes, but English is not my native language - hope you still enjoy it!

Everything was dark as my consciousness slowly seemed to return. My back hurts, as if I had fallen 5m and landed on a cold board. Probably because it was like that. Except that at the last second my fall was gentler than expected. Grumbling, I held my head, which was buzzing like it did after 3 nights of partying with Shanks and his crew. Still slightly dazed, I opened my eyes a crack and realized that I was in a dark, cold room with no windows to let in some light. Only the bars opposite of me, behind which I could see light and a lonely desk with a chair.

I sat up heavily and held my back the next second when a sharp pain shot through me, causing me to grit my teeth tightly to keep from accidentally crying out. Parts of my memory from yesterday flashed back to me and showed me how, after a fierce battle against the Marine, at some point I only saw smoke and was almost crushed under the wreckage when I tried to escape. But only almost. I can only vaguely remember the hint of something...pink. "What rubbish. Why did the damn Marine have to show up at exactly this time." To my right, I heard the click of a lock and decided to continue pretending to be asleep in order to perhaps find out more about my whereabouts.

"I'm sorry, Vice Admiral. Seems like the prisoner still hasn't woken up. I'm not surprised by the blow you gave her." "It doesn't matter. Sooner or later she'll have to wake up and talk. Those damn pirates are really nothing but trouble. We'll take her to Captain Koby's ship at the next port anyway. I have something else to do other than dealing with these annoying pirates. I'm sure he'll get something out of her,"came an annoyed voice, sounding so deep and rough, as if someone was inhaling nothing but smoke. But in a strange way it still sounded quite pleasant. "Ai ai Vice Admiral Smoker. We will inform the other ship immediately." The next moment the footsteps moved away again, but I stayed there until the door closed.

So Vice Admiral Smoker. It's a miracle I escaped with my life if he was the one chasing me. For all the hours that passed I tried desperately to find a way out, but unfortunately the Marine had thought these cells through really well, so in the end I had no choice but to give up and sit in a dark corner. "Then I guess I'll have to think about something while they try to transport me to the other ship." Sighing, I let my head fall against the wall behind me and stared at the ceiling. I still have these hazy memories of something pink, but I can't even think of what that could have been. "Hmm... I would be interested to know who I owe my life to. Even I would have barely survived a fight against Smoker." And so time passed until the ship finally seemed to dock at the next harbor. The only thing I noticed was the jerky movement of the ship as it was tied up, along with the hasty footsteps of the crew milling about on the deck above me, trying to prepare everything for a safe transport.

The next moment several Marines ran down the stairs and burst through the door. Everyone lined up, some seemed nervous and almost shitting their pants, while others showed no emotions and this was probably an everyday occurrence for them. A short time later he appeared in all his glory. Vice Admiral Smoker. Or how I liked to call him: Mr. Smoking hot. He looked at me grimly and I just responded with a mischievous grin. “Well, look at that. If that's not my good old Smokey." I slowly walked towards the bars and clutched them with both hands as I leaned closer to him. "I heard you wanted to push me away. And I thought we were finally getting closer." “Don’t even try it Y/N. That hasn't worked for me before and it won't work now either. We're transporting you over to Captain Koby's ship. He'll have more time for your little games than I do." Annoyed, he pulled the corners of his mouth down, at least as far as he could with two cigars in his mouth, before he gave the order to get me out of the cell and put me in chains.

On the way outside, after what felt like an eternity, I got some fresh air again and enjoyed the warm rays of sunshine on my skin. My eyes didn't seem too excited about the sudden brightness, though, so I had to squint them in order to not get blinded. "Smoker-kun!" A very bright and joyful voice came from a distance and seemed to be slowly approaching. My eyes slowly adjusted to the light and I could finally see clearly where we were. Near another ship I saw 2 strange figures. One had long blonde hair and a... very strange chin. When I looked at the other one next to him my body froze and my eyes went wide. That pink hair. No! That can't be! It was him...who saved me? A Captain of the Marines? "Come on! Move, you miserable priate scum!" One of the soldiers behind me pushed me forward with a shove in the back, I gave him an angry glance and continued to walk.

We walked straight towards the other ship and I could see more and more clearly who was actually standing in front of me. Captain Koby smiled and greeted his superior and then turned to me. Even though he didn't give me a smile like he did the Vice Admiral, I still felt a certain tenderness on his part. "Don't worry, Smoker-kun. Leave it to me. I'll get her to tell us something about the scroll." I looked at him in shock. The scroll! So that's why they hired someone as high as Smoker to target me. I twisted my mouth in annoyance and lowered my gaze to the floor. This could get funny.

[ghostofskywalker]

Where You’re Meant To Be - 4

Will Turner/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,102

Summary: After being taken prisoner aboard the Flying Dutchman, you resent the men who have accepted your soul as repayment of another’s debt, especially the Captain. It doesn’t matter one bit that he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, not at all.

Flower and Meaning: frangipani || the strength to withstand tough challenges

Chapters: one || two || three || four

Note: this is the last part of my august work for the @yearofcreation2023​! i hope everyone who read it enjoyed the fic and i’d love to hear any thoughts you have!

Year of Flowers Masterlist • Will Turner Masterlist

Despite not spending too much time on the Dutchman in the grand scheme of things, you could tell when it was near because of the excitement that bubbled in your stomach, even though you couldn’t see the ship itself. You looked out over the shifting waves, wondering how far below them the ghost ship sat, until a voice interrupted your thoughts. “How are you gonna let them know you’re ‘ere?”

You turned to see Jack Sparrow standing next to you, bottle of rum in his hand. If this ship wasn’t as close to the Flying Dutchman as it already was, you would probably be a little worried about his ability to successfully steer and maneuver the ship you were on right now.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I don’t suppose you would know how to contact those who live beneath the waves.”

“Why don’t you just jump?”

You raised your eyebrows in response. “But I know how to swim, so that wouldn’t work.”

“You have to sink.”

“But what if I was wrong, and I die for nothing?” That very fear, while you had never spoken about it aloud before, had always been part of your thought process.

“Some things require risk,” Jack responded. “That’s just what being a pirate is. Course my risk usually comes down to angry government people and the visitation of a particularly annoying monkey, but you understand.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “Look. I may believe the whole thing is a crock of shit, but sometimes love is the same thing as jumping off the deck when you know how to swim; a risk and a chance that things won’t go as you wanted.”

He stepped away from the side of the ship before you had the chance to form a response, leaving you to ponder his (surprisingly wise) words. And the longer you thought about it, the more his initial suggestion made sense. The hopeful part of your mind believed that the ship would still protect you as you fell beneath the waves, just like when you were tied to its mast. Your clothes were heavy enough that you would likely sink after a few minutes, and wherever the Dutchman lay beneath the surface, you knew deep down that it was near. And so with nothing but a deep breath and a far-flung hope, you jumped before anyone could stop you.

The chill of the ocean soaked through the layers of your dress immediately, and soon the fabric was completely waterlogged. You didn’t fight the way it moved to pull you under, and you just hoped that you were indeed correct about the location, because otherwise you’d be dying for nothing.

But that worry was soon resolved when you opened your eyes to see the blurry outline of a ship in the depths, and the moment you entered its space, you felt as though you were back on land. The deck was completely empty, but you could tell those seaweed sails anywhere. You were exactly where you needed to be.

As your feet hit the wood, the sound of someone stepping onto the deck echoed in your ears, and you watched intently to see who would be the one to greet you. If it wasn’t Will, you weren’t sure what you would, because you knew that no one else on this crew would give you the same grace as the captain. Even then, you hadn’t really come up with the perfect thing to say when you saw his face again.

You heard Will’s voice before he had fully exited the shadows, and part of you breathed a sigh of relief, knowing who you were dealing with. “What are you doing here?”

There was so much that you actually wanted to tell him, but nothing seemed right. “I want to travel on this ship,” was what you eventually went with, even though that sentence did little to convey the true scope of your emotions.

It was clear that your words confused him, because it took a few moments for him to actually respond. “Why?” he asked, a puzzled look on his face. “Why would you want to spend the rest of your life on a cursed ship, away from everyone else you knew? None of the men on this boat want, or even chose to be here, but you do?” He sounded truly confused, but you supposed it was warranted this time.

Footsteps echoed through the space before you could answer, and you looked around to see who else would be privy to your conversation, though you saw no one. “I thought I wanted to leave,” you admitted. “But every moment I’ve spent back at the port since then I’ve wanted to be back here, and I can’t explain it.” Maybe that was a little bit of a lie, but you didn’t want to scare him off right away if he didn’t feel the same things you did. “I understand it if you think I’m crazy, but I just jumped off a ship in the middle of the ocean and I highly doubt that the people who took me here are still around, so if you’re going to make me leave I’d at least appreciate it if you took me back to Tortuga.”

You stared at him, and he stared back. It was impossible to read what he was thinking, his face blank as he clearly considered your words and tried to come to a decision how to respond. “Fine,” was his eventual response, but something in your mind told you that he was a lot happier to see you than he let on. “You can stay.”

***

As it turned out, having someone who technically wasn’t dead on the crew was incredibly useful. While most of the men on board were tied to the ship in a similar war that Will was (they couldn’t step more than a few paces on land), you could go wherever you wanted. This was especially beneficial when you came to the realization that you had nothing on the Dutchman, no bed, clothes, or even shoes due to the way that you hadn’t taken your few things with you when you jumped overboard in the first place. By the time a few weeks had passed, you had even purchased a light mattress and hauled it aboard the boat yourself (with the help of some of the crew once you reached the water).

And speaking of the crew, you had a shaky relationship with them. While you didn’t ever fear for your life, you certainly weren’t voluntarily spending your time around most of them. Part of you wondered if Will said anything while you were out on land, but you could never tell for sure.

You moved into the captain’s room and everything was shifted over to accommodate the new mattress. Food and water were now stocked much more often than ever before (because you weren’t dead, so you still had to eat), and the tension between you and Will continued to rise with every moment you spent on the deck.

It was the middle of the night when everything came to a head, and you were laying on the deck as you stared up at the night sky. After spending the day watching the macabre parade of souls as they crossed the delicate path between worlds, the shimmering majesty of the constellations was a welcome change of scenery. The sound of footsteps on the deck alerted you to another’s presence, and Will’s voice broke the silence.

“Had enough of this life yet?”

You sat up to watch as he leaned against the side of the ship, an expression on his face that you couldn’t quite read. “What are you talking about?” you asked.

“I figured that eventually you’d figure out what we’ve known for ages,” Will said. “That life on this ship is nothing but grim and grisly, and once you realized that you’d want to return to land. You’re the only one on this ship that is not bound in its service, I suppose I find it difficult to believe that you want to be here.”

You paused for a moment as you tried to decide how to respond. “I suppose I can understand it, but after you had dropped me off the first time, I spent nearly every moment on land wishing that I could return. There’s a power and a freedom that comes with being on the ocean, and I wanted to know that feeling again.” After you finished speaking, a gentle tap of your fingers to the boards of the deck coaxed Will to sit beside you.

“Then why not simply join another crew in Tortuga?” he asked. “Why search out the Dutchman so ardently?”

A moment of fear flashed in your mind, and you debated whether or not to lie to him. This was the moment, and if you screwed this up you would be guaranteeing yourself a ticket off the ship the next time the stopped, even after you spent all this time tracking it down. Should you lie, and make something up about your fascination with the macabre, a morbid interest in the ghastly service that this very ship performs?

You could see Will start to shift where he sat, likely a nervousness due to your lack of response to his question. And before you could think about it any more, something in your mind snapped, and the decision was made. “You.”

“What?”

Well, you had to tell the truth now. “After we stopped yelling at each other every time our paths crossed, I realized that I had grown rather fond of you, and as much as I loved the freedom of the seas, I also realized that none of that would be truly worth the trouble as long as you weren’t there.” The words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, and you looked away from him, hoping that this wouldn’t be too much of a mistake. “And now I’m here, voluntarily trapping myself on a cursed ship and letting go of life as I knew it before, just to be near you.”

You turned your head to face him, hoping desperately that this didn’t ruin the friendship that you had been cultivating with him, and at first glance, it didn’t seem too promising. With a look on his face that you would describe as stunned, he seemed to completely freeze for a few moments.

Until he reached out to gently pull your face to his.

As his lips sealed to yours, whatever thoughts were currently inhabiting your brain fled instantly, and there was nothing but Will. The way he smelled so clearly of the sea that surrounded you both, and the way his calloused hands were so tenderly holding your cheeks, every bit of that was driving you mad. You might have dreamed about kissing him from the moment he first stepped out of the ship’s shadows, but the clear passion and romance behind this kiss was something that you had only been dreaming about since your moment steering the boat for the first time, a moment which you now could say was finally completed.

When you pulled away for air, neither of you moved that far back, and Will was the first to break the silence. “I missed having you around after we dropped you off at Tortuga,” he said. “And I know that moving forward with this will have its challenges, but I’d really like to do that again.”

“I really want to do that again too,” you said, and just before you leaned in once more, you added to your thought. “And I don’t care about the challenges. If I can find a way to end your service to the Dutchman, I will do everything in my power to make sure it is done.”

His response to that declaration was another kiss, but you didn’t near to hear him speak his thoughts to know what they were.

The two of you would undoubtedly face dangers beyond your very imagination as you moved forward, and the path to free Will from his curse was likely twice as treacherous, but you were unwavering in his decision. You still hated the man who tried to trade your soul for his, but it just might be possible that some things happened for a reason.

And of course, if you’re on the ship when he dies, you would have full input in how he spent his eternity, and you could exact revenge then.

- the end -

if you want to know when i post a new fic, follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library​ :)

[tojivu]

PLEASE CALL ME [01]

a/n part 1 out of idk.. anyways this was so heavily inspired by phoebe bridger’s songs.. i’m so obsessed with her (=´∀｀) oh and also by a book i finished a long time ago but haven’t gotten over lol. i tried writing this in 3rd person pov but tbh it’s hard for me to display emotion in my writing if it’s 3rd person cus it’s like giving u instructions on how to feel 😭. I KNOW ITS 2023 OKAY I KNOW WE DONT LIKE 1ST PERSON ANYMORE BUT PLS LET ME HAVE MY MOMENT

warnings/tags barely proofread (i tried), if yall don’t like tis i’ll probably discontinue it LOL, childe x implied f!reader, sfw.

listen to chinese satellite by phoebe bridgers.

“Good morning.” Ajax is speaking to you, voice low. “It's a hot day.”

You were shivering, actually. Mornings were always cold no matter what the temperature was. Nevertheless, you nod and agree with him anyway. “Yup, isn’t it?”

You two were standing outside your house, waiting for the other to initiate the walking, to which you end up doing it. He follows behind, the path too narrow to fit the two of you—this was a familiar sound. Heavy footsteps you could only recognise to be Ajax’s only two metres behind you. You don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at the back of your head.

Such a nostalgic feeling, you think. You and him have been passing by the same trees and the same brown-cream coloured houses for 5 years now.

“Can you believe that we’re graduating in two months?”

He doesn’t answer.

You repeat the question again and he finally responds. You turn around, curious as to what had gotten him so distracted; his phone is in his hand, he’s looking into it and it’s pointing at you—his bright yellow phone case pales in comparison to the smile he has on his face.

“Not even going to let me pose?”

“You don’t need to do that. Your morning face is enough.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You’re pretty when you wake up.”

It’s 6 in the morning. Ajax was never one to think before he speaks, especially when the sun had just risen 5 minutes prior. You ignore what he says, assuming he just couldn’t tell that isn’t something you say to friends.

“Sure.”

—

It’s 8:27 am. You’ve been sitting through an hour of English, and you swear you thought the subject couldn’t get any more boring than when it was in middle school. You’re spinning your blue MUJI 0.5 tip pen between your middle and index finger, ultimately failing after 5 seconds and letting it drop to the floor. It rolls away, farther than you could bend and reach for—a soft metal clinking sound is heard when you realise it’s hit someone’s chair.

The red and black coloured backpack on the floor next to the chair made it obvious where your pen had gone and who’s chair it hit.

You whisper-yell, “Hey, can you pick that up?”

Ajax turns around and looks at you and then the floor. You’re thankful as he picks up the pen, but then quickly confused as to why he just turns forward again—keeping your pen at his desk.

—

YOU: It feels as though the evening has been stretched, like time is in slow motion and not in a good way; because I’m looking at Ajax sitting across from me and we have not spoken. I have a cup of coffee in my right hand, much too sweet for my own taste; a cat drawn from the latte art I don’t remember requesting. I’m very sure I asked for a bunny. I’m very sure. I think I left my Math textbook in class. The trees look really lively or something like that, I don’t really know, I am making sure to look away from Ajax because I know he’s staring.

“What?”

“What what?” He acts like he wasn’t just staring at me for the past 5 minutes. “Is there a problem?”

“My problem is that you’re being weird today.”

His mouth is agape, too dramatic to be genuine. “That’s rude.”

I don’t know what to reply to him now, knowing that he’ll just continue acting stupid. My shoes squeak against the wooden flooring as I lean back in my chair, it’s evening now and I’m so exhausted. People from the high school three streets away from ours are filling the tiny place up, passing by our table and some stare at Ajax as they do. The oak tables that were empty just a half hour ago are now full of teenagers, this whole place is infested with us; behind, left and right.

It’s not weird for people to stare at Ajax when we’re out together. It’s not like he’s a celebrity or anything, but somehow every girl I know has heard of him or has heard of him from someone who has heard of him. It’s a big chain of people I find impossible to keep track of. If you mentioned his name anywhere, someone would definitely go “you know him too?”.

I’m drinking my tea slowly and quietly. A group of girls are laughing so loud my eardrums could burst. Another group of girls walk in and the familiar bell sound of the café entrance rings, and it’s no surprise they know Ajax too; he smiles at them, I can’t tell if out of politeness, when they walk by. They’re giggling to themselves and I can’t help but feel a bit lost.

“What’s wrong with you today?” He’s asking me as if multiple things aren’t wrong with him. Suddenly, I’m the one with the problems.

I don’t bother anymore, I think about that moment minutes ago over and over again and I have no idea what to make of it. That giggle wasn’t a “what a coincidence” giggle, more like a teasing sort, the kind your friends do when your crush talks to you.

“Nothing is wrong with me.” I’m lying. “I’m gonna go home.”

He is so clueless, so oblivious to everything it is paining me. Oblivious to the amount of girls that are looking his way in this very establishment, at this very moment in time. It makes me almost angry, somewhat, that he doesn’t know.

—

AJAX: It is 7 P.M. and dark out. I think she’s angry but she’s just slouching over, but I get some sort of sensing that she will explode if I try to talk to her.

“Helllooo.” I’m next to her now, and she doesn’t want to reply to me; her eyes are on mine, eyebrows furrowed and clearly sending a message: Don’t even say anything.

I feel myself smiling because she looks very adorable. She is much shorter than I am. When she’s angry, I’m never able to take her seriously. I don’t think I ever have. Oftentimes in her fits of anger I am caught admiring her, smiling because I think she is so dramatic. When we were 15 she once yelled at me for using her charger, and apparently ‘making her phone charge slower’. She is one of the angriest and most short tempered people I know, yet I think she pulls off the frustrated pout and narrowed eyes very well. It doesn’t matter much to me.

“I’m not gonna ask what’s up with you because you got mad when I did.”

She looks forward again and we are still walking. Her house is still a few blocks down. I think she’s getting tired, too. I shouldn’t have dragged her to get milk tea with me. This path is too narrow to fit the two of us.

I walk in front of her and I can hear her tongue clicking out of annoyance. I bend down and stretch my arms, “Get on my back”.

I feel weight shifting onto my upper back, her long hair is tickling my neck but I don’t mind. Her arms are tired, slow in their movements as they wrap around me too, her head on my right shoulder and she does not say a word in all of it.

“Thank you.” she is whispering to me a few minutes later, and I think I am getting tired too. My legs want to give out. They don’t because I don’t let them.

It’s another 10 minutes and I’m at her front door, unlocking it using the key in her wallet; her parents are on the couch and watching TV and I start to wonder what this would look like to them.

“Ajax?” Her mother turns her head around and is surprised to see me, considering I wasn’t calling to say I was coming over. I haven’t done that in months.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s just tired, that’s all.” I tell her and I try my best not to speak too loud in case the girl on my back wakes up. I can feel her breaths on my back, slow and controlled. I bring her upstairs to her room and I lay her on her bed. Her room has changed quite a bit since I had last been in it, her desk is much more organised than it was a few months ago.

I found myself rejecting her invitations to hang out in her room over the summer break.

I think if I were to be alone in a room with her for too long I would end up blurting it out. I would tell her I’ve loved her since we started being friends, and she’d kick me out of her house and never talk to me again. But now she’s sleeping and I think I’m okay, so I pull her blankets over her and whisper; “Goodnight, I love you”.

—

YOU: I have no idea what day it is. I feel sticky. I look around and after a few seconds I sigh out of relief, realising this is my house, and these are my bedsheets. I don’t remember how I got here, though, my uniform is still on and the last thing I can recall is me on Ajax’s back.

I reach for my phone but realise it’s dead. A post-it note is next to my nightstand, ‘You’re welcome for the ride back. Call me when you wake up You owe me’, and on the bottom right corner there is an ugly and disproportionate cat drawn.

He didn’t even have the courtesy to remove my socks for me, but I guess that’s fair because I don’t think I’d go anywhere near his feet either.

I plug my phone into my charger and wait. I don’t know if he wants me to call him, but I think I should, I want to.

28 days later and i’m back with this shitty fic — 130423

[riant-draws]

You're so big brain yes yes yes moon and younger pebbles thoughts yes I'm eating up your art

First, thank you!! Sorry I took so long to respond ;-; been pretty tired lately and had to give this a lot of thought… perhaps too much… eheheh buckle up, anon, you’re in for an essay~ (also, I know you asked about Moon and younger Pebbles but this is like, 90% an analysis about Pebbles, oops-)

^ excuse me what happened here

also please in mind that these are just my headcanons (although some of them are very closely tied to canon, which is why I’ll be referencing some pearls) sooo uhh yeah! rambles under the cut!

To talk about Pebbles as a “kid” (in quotes because I don’t believe iterators have a childhood or developmental period that can effectively be compared to humans), I first have to talk about his construction—mostly because it was so unique.

When reading the pale green pearl (exterior) to Artificer, Pebbles mentions that his construction was very controversial among the council. And, when given to Moon, one of the white pearls reads:

“‘We, of the Five-hundred-and-ninety-second High Convocation of the True Anointed Citadel, do hereby demand, with full force of Law and Religious doctrine, an Immediate end to construction of the Apostate Superstructure Abomination. To place shadow upon the Divine Body of the True Anointed Citadel is outrageous blasphemy and cannot be tolerated, no matter the circumstances...’ Clearly this was ignored.”

As we can see in the game, Pebbles was built mostly on top of what’s now Shaded Citadel—which really pissed off the monks and religious leaders of the True Anointed Citadel, a very holy site. While talking to Artificer, he speaks casually and plainly, so you can assume that he didn’t mind their disdain for him. Granted, by the time of Arti’s campaign, all his citizens are long gone, so perhaps he just doesn’t care about their opinions anymore (if he ever did to begin with). But. When he was still brand new, he would have had to listen to so much hate directed at him, all for simply existing. While I did say earlier that I don’t think iterators have developmental stages like humans do, they definitely still mature and develop. Just because you’re created with an adult brain doesn’t mean that you’re automatically mature and experienced. Even Pebbles reflects on how he’s changed while reading the viridian pearl (garbage wastes):

“[…] much of my early work was encrypted before storage. Though my younger self has done a very poor job. […] now I can just see all of the holes in it. Created from a youthful and reticent mentality.”

So, clearly, iterators do learn and grow. But getting back on topic, I imagine that especially since Pebbles was very young when all that hate was piled on him, it would’ve been traumatic. Additionally, it’s implied (again, mainly in the pale green pearl) that he’s not exclusively hated. The pearl’s author clearly doesn’t want to piss Pebbles off, and they also state that one problematic House “[has] less than forty members on the Council, but still Tilt the spiritual Discourse with Our Iterator in a direction that most obviously Displeases him, and is hardly High Held by anyone in the Community either! We can not Risk this!”

(Of course, the pearl’s author is probably biased so who knows if they’re a reliable source of info or not, but there’s no way to verify that and hey it’s in the game after all so I’m just gonna roll with it.) This means that there are citizens (possibly even the majority) who actually like him, or at least want to remain in his good graces. With him. Y’know. Being responsible for their livelihoods and all. And you might think: great! Pebbles isn’t being universally hated! Well. The outpourings of both love and hate from his creators would create such a toxic environment and cause a lot of cognitive dissonance in him: he’s adored, even worshiped, a proud iterator revered as a godlike figure. But on the other hand, he’s despised, called horrible things like “Apostate Superstructure Abomination,” generally told he has no right to exist, etc etc. And this probably went on for years and years (or whatever the in-universe equivalent is). That would wear down anybody’s self-esteem. Which, in canon, you can see echoes of those thought patterns when the storyline takes place, who knows how long later. This stuff has affected him deeply.

All of this to say, I think his arrogance and god complex (that he displays in canon) are coping mechanisms—whether he’s aware of it or not. He tells himself that he’s “godlike in comparison” to everything that walks this forsaken world, that he’s so much better. In doing so, he runs from his mistakes and doesn’t process his emotions and traumas, generally making a bigger mess of himself. Because to admit the truth would be to admit that he’s broken, that he’s lonely, that he hates himself, I could go on but this isn’t getting any shorter aha…

Moooooving on, not to state the obvious, but it’s heavily implied throughout various pearls and bits of dialogue that Pebbles was one of the last iterators ever built. Given that he was constructed far closer (relatively speaking) to the time of public mass ascension and the fact that Moon was struggling to care for them, his creators would’ve likely been desperate (and perhaps a bit sloppy) while building him. As a result, the parts of him responsible for regulating his emotions and decision-making (his equivalent of a prefrontal cortex) are stunted, as that would’ve been one of the last things to develop. All of this just contributes to his, well, susceptibility to mental health issues/instability. Yaaaay.

side note: I also headcanon that iterator cans are more grown than built. When reading the light pink pearl (outskirts), Moon mentions that structures are infused with microbes that initiate healing cycles that gradually heal and waterproof broken structures. While she’s likely referring to structures on the ground, it would make sense that at least all parts of an iterator below the rain layer would be made in the same fashion. And if you take the bronze pearl (Metropolis), for instance, Moon tells the player that “It’s a blueprint for a type of large immobile purposed organism. This one seems to be specifically for the cities built on top of our structures. […] newer designs began to use a mass-produced cellular build called living blocks,” she’s basically saying that the buildings on top of Pebbles and other newer iterators are primarily organic. So why not grow large parts of their superstructures as well? We already know that iterators are partly biological, and also, growing them certainly would make a lot of the construction process at least semi-autonomous. And this way, the ancients wouldn’t have to risk their lives to go below the rain layer and work on his legs, underhang, etc.

Time for one of my favorite headcanons! And one that’s much more headcanon-y than the others lol, that is, Pebbles’ puppet being child-sized. Big head, big eyes, sorta stubby limbs, rounder features (except his antennae, those are triangles for some reason ffs lol idk what I’m doing) etc. First (and more boring) reason is that if Moore’s law applies in some form in-universe (not an all-important Law of Science or anything, just an observed trend meaning that as time goes on and developments improve, tech gets both smaller/more space-efficient and better), that means Pebbles shouldbe both one of the most powerful iterators and one of the smallest. But if the whole reason e was built was to provide a home to Moon’s citizens because she couldn’t care for them very well anymore (deep green pearl, Metropolis—this is Moon’s reading, but Pebbles’ is interesting, too), why would they make his can smaller? Simple: they didn’t. Instead, his can has more empty space inside it as components are smaller, and his puppet is tiny. Like. Waist-high on an ancient.

Another reason he was designed to look childlike was to try to make him look as appealing & likeable to the public as possible. With how controversial his construction was, his creators and whatever equivalent of a marketing team they employed would’ve hoped to sway the monks and everybody who strongly opposed his construction, like, “look! he’s just a little guy! look at those pink cheeks! you wouldn’t hate a ‘kid’, would you?!?” (spoiler alert: they would)

But as consequence, his image was very marketable soooooooo

yeah idk man pebbles plushie canon

On the more angsty side of things, unfortunately for Pebbles, many ancients and even other iterators (looking at you, Sig and Suns) didn’t take him very seriously since he permanently looks like a kid. This just added fuel to the fire, making him even more frustrated and feeling unheard. Just. All of it is such a bad situation.

Moon, of course, sees how he’s being treated by his citizens (who used to be hers, and she wasn’t fond of them anyway) and her own peers, she knows it’s so harmful to him, but what can she do? She may be the local group senior and his administrator, but he strikes me as having such an independent personality (yay more stuff caused by trauma) that he feels like he’s caught in her shadow, perhaps. “Looks to the Moon’s little brother.” So he probably isn’t… very receptive to her attempts to build him up, but man, she still tries. And it’s worth mentioning that he’s also a workaholic, so he always thinks that he has “better things to do” than, say, spending time with his sister.

I bet she’d still try to play games with Pebbles (and he’d probably indulge her on occasion), show him cool things, engage him in conversation, try to get him to talk about his interests, etc., all to bond with him and get to know him better. And he’s a stubborn little piece of work, sure, but he genuinely does care for her (it’s in canon and shows up in several places).

I could say more but this has gone on long enough, but I do wanna clarify that while I don’t support his decisions or actions, his motivations are understandable. my guy is a dude who was put into a horrible situation and screwed over from the beginning. sure, all the stuff he’s been through doesn’t excuse his garbage, sometimes immature behavior in canon, but it certainly explains it. (good lord, I could write an essay on how he’s changed by the time of Rivulet’s campaign alone) uh anyway he’s a fascinating character who I spend too much time thinking about thank you for reading if you made it this far lol

(also, gotta say that a lot of these apply to my fic, too, shameless plug and some of them have already been mentioned or alluded to in it—it’s a time-travel fix-it that starts waaay back in the past so if that’s your thing, hey XD)

[zeroducks-2]

You can’t just say things like that you’re torturing characters! Not without samples

Do we get a peek at your WIP?

You're right anon, sorry!

This is being written for mermay. Barry is a researcher and an activist and poked his nose where he shouldn't have, and now his predicament is that he's been tied up and dunked in the tank of a mer who's both drugged as fuck and in heat.

(mutual noncon, restraints, light smut under the cut)

The mer must be going through its mating cycle, and got drugged with a stimulant. It has to be out of its mind with raging hormones, it’s probably gauging if Barry is a suitable mate or not, and… and that’s why those goons were so interested in filming the scene, then.

Barry realizes he’s shaking in his bindings and he might actually be sick. He is still not going to survive the ordeal, but this will probably take even longer and be even more painful than the mer clawing him open to eat his innards.

The creature is right there and Barry looks at it with a flinch. The snarl on its face is there, its gills are still flaring but when he’s touched it doesn’t hurt, the mer just tugs the wet gag off of his face. Barry breathes a mouthful and swallows, and when he looks back at the creature it flips around and leaves, huffing and bellowing again. 

It happens another time, and then another. The mer approaches him and makes sounds and touches him, its body twitching in strain, and then leaves to swim around in frustration and hit things with its tail, including the glass of the tank, welts forming where it collides with sharp barnacles. And from sick, Barry quickly starts feeling a lump in his throat. 

«It’s okay.» He mutters at the umpteenth time he’s pawed and his neck is smelled, surprised by how thin his voice sounds. «It’s okay, calm down now.»

He knows mers can’t understand people but he’s saying that more to soothe himself than anything else. The creature chuffs like it’s trying to respond, noses the crook of Barry’s shoulder, and his face scrunches up in a stressed wince. 

«Right, you can stay there.» He says, a part of him again amazed at how delicate the mer manages to be as he palms his front, well aware that it’s strong enough it could break a rib with one hand. «Stop hurting yourself. It’s not worth it.» Barry adds and swallows thick, feeling tears blurring his vision. «I’m a dead man anyway. While you’re strong, you can still survive this. Someone will find this place and let you out. Bring you back to the sea.» 

Something about his tone must be calming enough because the mer doesn’t stop panting but its flailing ceases. It clicks and chitters and moves against him, fixing Barry’s chin on his shoulder as if it was trying to keep him out of the water. 

He looks up in confusion and sees a harrowed look on the creature’s face, doesn’t understand it or the way his nape gets carefully cradled while the mer grabs onto the chain connected to Barry’s arms, keeping him steady and above the water through the process. Its tail moves up and spreads Barry’s legs, and just like that his crotch is pressed against the heated, throbbing slit on the front of the mer’s tail.

«You’re a gentle thing, aren’t you.» He breathes out through the rising panic. He realizes that tears are spilling on his cheeks, but it’s not like it matters. «You don’t want to hurt me.»

He knows merfolk’s mating habits range widely from careful and playful lovemaking, to what humans would consider very violent rape. It’s not unheard of that a mer would be attentive with its mate anyway. The fact that this one is a drugged gladiator which likely hasn’t felt a gentle touch since the last time it saw the sea, whenever that might have been, is actually hard to believe.

The creature is rolling its tail in a way which has Barry rubbing against its slit, and despite his own sex being still clothed he can feel it open up, the folds of it prodding and pulling at his crotch. He grits his teeth and tries however he can to detach himself from what’s happening, but his pants get ripped open by a clawed hand and it’s a matter of seconds before his sex is sucked into the cavity.

His startled moan is covered by the huffy, gravelly sound of relief coming from the mer’s gills. Barry squirms involuntarily, gasping loudly and reflexively fighting against the binding on his arms, but even if he didn’t have them tied there’d be nowhere he could go; the mer keeps holding onto the chain, the other arm wound around Barry’s shoulders with the palm cupping his whole nape, keeping him still. It doesn’t really move its tail, just makes rumbling noises while its sex does everything by itself, pumping rhythmically as Barry’s head spins and his exhales break in punched out whimpers.