#but if i ever have to survive on blood i know where i'll put it

[nikatyler]

Concept: Vampire who camouflages his blood packs in baby food packaging like this

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Dog has a swollen lymph node. Just one for now. Which means her cancer is getting worse already. The longer this goes on, the more detached I feel from reality.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Feels Like Home

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Bucky's world is filled with a lot of blood, death, and danger. But when he's with you, everything is filled with love, light, and gentleness. It's a feeling he didn't know he craved until he met you.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky at home was a stark contrast to how he was out on the streets of Brooklyn. To the outside world, he was James Barnes, the fearsome head of the Barnes Family, the leading crime family in Brooklyn. But when it was just you and him, in your dingy apartment, he was your Bucky Bear, a soft man who loved to cuddle, cook you dinner, and watch rom-coms with you.

That's the Bucky you'd always see as soon as he was in your presence.

Right now though, he isn't your Bucky Bear. He's James Barnes and he's got death on his mind. In the shadows of the alleyway, you can see how he's pointing his gun at the man in front of him.

"You've given me excuse after excuse, Dalton. I'm sick of it. Where's my money?" he grips the man by the caller of his shirt, and pulls him in closer, the barrel of the gun staring him in the face.

"Buck," Sam murmurs Bucky's name.

You watch as Bucky looks to Sam and when Sam nods in your direction, Bucky follows. His eyes widen, "Sweetheart." He immediately pockets his gun and rush over to you.

"What're you doing out so late at night?"

Your dog, Taffy, jumps at Bucky's legs when he gets close. Bucky leans down and scratches the corgi behind her ears, "Hiya, girl."

"She had a lot of energy when I got home from work. So I figured a walk around the block would be good for her." Your eyes dart to Sam and the man in the alleyway, "Is everything okay?"

Bucky looks over his shoulder and then back at you, "Yeah. Just...business." He wraps a protective arm around you, leading you away from the alley, "Wait here. I'll walk Taffy with you and we have dinner."

He moves to pull away but you grip at his wrist, "Bucky, it's fine. I can walk the neighborhood by myself. Go handle business or whatever."

Bucky continues to walk back, "Stay there." At his command, Taffy immediately sits and he chuckles, "At least she listens to me."

When he heads back to Sam and the unknown man, they exchange a few words you can't hear. The man looks at you and that pisses Bucky off.

"Don't you fucking look at her," he says, forcibly turns the man's head to look away from you.

After some low words exchanged, Bucky walks away from them, with Sam dragging the man to the other end of the alley where a car waits.

"C'mon, baby," Bucky murmurs, his arm wrapping around your waist. Taffy is happy to continue her walk, as she prances a short distance ahead of you and Bucky.

There's a weird tension between you as you walk Taffy around the block and eventually back to your apartment. You shed your jacket and shoes, unleashing Taffy, and going straight to the kitchen.

Bucky follows you, leaning against the kitchen counter, "You okay?"

You nod, "Mhm. Sorry, I just-I forget sometimes that you're..you know."

"I see."

"I've never seen that side of you, so it was a little...jarring."

"Do you...want to break up?"

You look at him with wide eyes, "What? No! Do you?"

"No, but I told you who I was from the very beginning, baby. If what I do ever puts you off, I'll completely understand if you don't want anything to do with me."

You shake your head, "Bucky, that's not it. I still want to be with you. I just forgot who you are outside of here. I forgot that's actually who you are."

It was Bucky's turn to shake his head, "Nah, baby. That's not who I am. That's who I had to become in order to survive. But here?" he points to the apartment, "This is who I really am."

You hum, "So you're really a big lovey dovey teddy bear that loves to be the little spoon, cook me dinner, and cry at rom-coms?" Bucky playfully rolls his eyes at your teasing and you continue, "Okay, really though. Does anyone else know this side of you?"

He shrugs, "Not really because I never felt super comfortable to be myself until I met you."

You scoff, "Sap."

"Only for you," he leans in and pecks your lips, "You sure you're okay? Are we okay?"

"Yeah. We're good."

Bucky pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You nuzzle your face into him, letting his scent encompass you.

You felt at home.

[kaijutegu]

So. Now that she's home and safe and gonna be ok, I can talk about this.

I almost lost Kaiju. Christmas Day. I was woken up by a phone call from Allison, who will be referred to a LOT in this story. Allison runs the pet store where I board Kaiju. She called to tell me that Kaiju had lost a LOT of blood. (As it turns out, half her blood volume. Humans die when we lose 40%, just so you know. She lost 50%.)

There were no visible injuries, and she had passed a bloody stool. Or rather, a blood clot with some poop in it. She continued to pass only blood when they put her in the bathtub to clean her up. If I'd taken her anywhere else, that... would have been it, probably.

But Allison is an actual miracle worker and knew an emergency vet who was open- on Christmas Day- and could see reptiles. As soon as she called me, she took her to the e vet, where they gave her fluids and oxygen and got her stable. They did some x rays and found... nothing.

In fact, the e vet actually complimented me on her bone density and how nice her toe joints look. Whatever this mysterious haemorrhage was, it was in the soft tissue.

The immediate thoughts were:

Impaction

Cancer invading an artery

Aneurism

Reproductive issues

However, the emergency vet couldn't figure it out, and my vet was out of the country. The e vet consulted with a lot of vets and it was decided she'd go into Chicago Exotics for care the next day- they were willing to see her on immediate notice. Allison drove her over and they did an ultrasound... and couldn't differentiate the mass they found.

So, exploratory surgery it was.

But... she didn't have enough blood for that. She wouldn't have survived... if Allison hadn't found blood for her. Tegu donors were found, the transfusion happened, and was completely successful.

And what the surgery found was completely unexpected. No cancer. No repro issues. No typical impaction.

Instead? Weird white things in her muscles and a partial impaction that seems to be related to a reduction in her ability to properly digest. There are two possible diagnoses at this point. One is visceral gout. This is very strange because in reptiles, articular gout basically always happens first, and her kidneys are fine.

The other option? Weird, potentially cross species parasite she picked up when she was in the Everglades. Something she's likely had all her life, something that was dormant until recently.

I'll know when the pathology report comes back in a week or so.

Anyways! She is doing very well. She is alert and interested in things. She has an incredible appetite, even though she can't have solid food yet. She's on three meds, including one I have to inject. At her three week recheck, we will add a fourth- either the correct anti-parasitic or a medication to improve kidney function, depending on the diagnosis. Currently she's in a hospital cage and she hates it- she can't have any substrate because of the stitches.

The vet says it should take about three months until she makes her full blood volume. Her pack cell count should be at 35%. It was at 7% on the 26th. But by the 28th, it was at 10%. She's gonna be ok. She's tough. My little girl is a fighter, always has been. You have to be scrappy to survive in the wild.

And throughout this entire experience, everybody has told me how lovely her personality is. Through the injections and cloacal probing and everything, she never bit or even tried to. The vet didn't think she even wanted to bite. Like it wasn't a question of wanting to bite and not being strong enough- it's just not something in her behavioural repertoire. She doesn't bite because she doesn't want to. Because even at her most scared, at her most painful, she's still Kaiju, the best tegu to ever live. Love is stored in the tegu, and it continues to be stored in the tegu. We have a long road ahead of us, but she's out of the woods and is going to be ok. We both are.

Also, consider this a MAJOR plug for Curious Creatures in Chicago. I'm never going to board my animals anywhere else.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Escape Plans

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Summary: Ghost does all he can to stop you from leaving.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language,

Word Count: 1.6K

A/n: for @daugherofneptune because yeahhhh sorryy but give your dog another boop for me

~*~

Simon manages to break his personal record with bladder-holding, but eventually, he leaves his quarters to deal with his needs.

For a while he was tempted to re-purpose the garbage can beside his desk, but eventually decided that would probably be a little too messy.

So, after a few more minutes of careful deliberation, he lets you know his plans to leave, then exits his quarters.

The sound of the door closing is all you need to hear to yank the bathroom door open, rushing into the room and quickly getting dressed.

Your fingers tremble as you start executing your plan.

You only have a few minutes before he gets back, and you still need to leave his quarters without being seen.

As quickly as you can, you pile on a few of his heavier sweaters and some extra socks, then shove two pairs of pants on your legs.

An extra balaclava is tucked safely into your pocket, and then you're turning to the door ready to make good your escape.

Unfortunately, your plans are thwarted by the door opening.

Your heart jumps into your throat and your eyes widen when they meet Simon's.

He pauses for a moment, a brow raising.

"Going out?" He asks.

You frown up at him, trying to step around him only for him to mirror you.

"Going," you try, stepping the other way only for him to do the same.

"I see that. Where?"

You huff out an angry breath and glare up at him.

"Anywhere. Any place that is not here. That will be better."

He doesn't say anything, just stares at you.

"I... I go back to city. Safer there."

Simon scoffs and shakes his head, "you don't really believe that, do you?"

Your glare hardens.

"I stay in city for long time and I survive. I don't get hurt. I stay with you for weeks... get hurt many times."

He sighs, dropping his gaze for a moment then reaching toward you, his heart hurting when you step just out of his reach.

"Mouse, I know. And I'm sorry. It won't happen again-"

"No! I don't want to stay. Please."

If his heart hurt before, it's absolutely shattered now.

"It won't be much longer now. Can you hold out for just a little bit? Please."

You cross your arms over your chest and glare at the ground as tears well up in your eyes.

"Why? So that next time you go they can find me again? Hurt me again?"

"That won't happen," he says darkly, "they know, all of them, that nothing comes between you and me."

It's true.

Matthew's screams could be heard even from how far in the forest Ghost had taken him.

When he returned to base with lighter shoulders and blood splattered on his face, nobody even glanced at him for fear of being next.

Simon cups your jaw and the side of your neck with one hand and uses the other hand to push your hair aside.

"M'not gonna lose you, Mouse. Not when 've only just found you."

Your bottom lip starts to wobble and you pull your eyes from his.

"Look at me."

After a few heartbeats, you reluctantly bring your gaze back to his.

Gently, he takes your hand and puts it on his chest.

"This. You feel this in here?" He asks.

You don't answer right away.

No, instead you wait until you feel the rhythmic thumping before you nod.

"That belongs to you, got it?"

You nod at him.

"And you? You belong to me. And you must be outta your mind if you think m'gonna let what's mine walk out like that."

His words make your belly flip and you sigh, leaning your face into his hand.

"I don't like it here," you whisper.

"I know, Mouse. But soon I'll take you away from here. You won't have to worry about any of this ever again, I swear."

You tug your head back a bit and look up at him.

"Where will we go?"

He shrugs, tugging you into a hug and stepping further into the room.

"Anywhere you want. The city, the country, the ocean, the mountains. Wherever you want."

You're quiet for a good few moments before finally snuggling closer to him.

"Fine. But I don't leave."

"Good." That's exactly what he wants.

"No. This room. I don't leave."

Oh. Not what he really wants.

"You're gonna stay in this room for the next several weeks? Mouse, these walls are gonna get borin' to look at."

You slowly pull back to look up at him, and he wonders what he's said to deserve such a bitch-face.

"I live in cage before here. Walls will be fine."

He has no rebuttal.

"Well, I can bring you somethin'. Anythin' to make your stay better... more comfortable. Anythin' you need or want, jus say the word and I'll get it for you."

Your brows draw together.

You don't need anything.

Seeing the look on your face, he's quick to chime in with things he thinks you may like.

"What about more sketchbooks?"

That would be nice.

Slowly you nod.

"I can bring you a tablet, too. S'you can watch movies. We don't exactly have award winners, but some classics'll keep you occupied for the next little while," he rambles.

A frown finds your lips.

"What is tablet?"

Simon chuckles softly, kissing the top of your head tenderly.

"Oh, you're gonna love it. Can get ya almost anything with the touch of a button."

True to his word, he gets you set up with a tablet and several new sketchbooks, and spends a good portion of the afternoon showing you how to work the tablet.

"You'll have restricted access, but you know where to go if you have questions, and where to go if you want to watch movies. If you want anything else, you tell me. Okay?"

You don't say anything, only nod.

The corners of his mouth drop the tiniest bit when he notices the way you're avoiding his eyes once again.

"Mouse... you know that... that I put you down there because I had to. It was the only way for them to believe me. You know that I would never put you through that if there was any other choice, right?"

You nod again, sniffling and turning away from him the tiniest bit.

You know it's not his fault. You know that. You know that if there had been any other way for him to convince his team that you were innocent, he would've done it.

That doesn't change the fact that it was his face behind those bars. His hands that locked the door.

"Look at me. Please."

You flutter your eyes up to his, not bothering to mask the sadness you feel.

"When you go... lock door."

He's a little surprised by your words but nods his understanding.

"I will."

Though it goes directly against the rules, he swapped his door handle with the one on Soap's bathroom door. Prick can earn his privacy back.

Now, there's one added measure between you and the men on base. He wishes it wasn't necessary, but even he can only defend his men for so long.

"I'll lock the door and you open it to no one but me."

"You will bring key."

He blinks a few times before nodding once more.

"I will bring a key. That way you don't have to worry. Only person coming in and out of here will be me."

You look down again, fingers tapping the tablet gently as anxiety eats a hole in your stomach.

Simon's moving before he understands what he's doing, carefully taking off the chain around his neck.

"Here. I want you to have this."

You glance over to him, brows drawing together when he holds his dog tags out to you.

"You'll always have a piece of me. N'you know if you're with me nothin's gonna happen to you."

Though you don't fully understand the meaning of his words, the weight of them is not lost on you. You can feel the importance, the significance.

And so you let him carefully put them on you.

His eyes are focused on where they rest on your chest, on top of your heart.

Carefully, he cups your cheek and slides his thumb over your soft skin.

"You've no idea what you mean to me, Mouse. No idea. Almost wish you coulda been there to see what happened to that prick for what he did."

He means it when he says that, too.

He wishes you could've been there to see exactly what he did to him. Wishes you could've heard his apologies, his pathetic attempts at pleading for his life.

But the last thing he wants is for you to be scared of him.

"What... what did you do?" You ask, looking at him nervously.

His thumb drags over your bottom lip and he sighs.

"A lot. A lot of bad... horrible things. Hurt him real bad. And then I let him die. 'Cause that's what happens to people who hurt you. And I'll never forgive myself for being one of them."

You nod slowly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth then sighing gently.

"How long until we go home?" You ask after another moment, slowly bringing your hand up to his chest.

"A few weeks. Not much longer, and then it'll be jus' you and me."

Slowly, you nod.

You can do a few more weeks.

A few more weeks, then you start your new life in your new home with your Ghost.

With Simon.

Your Simon.

[yazzwrites6962]

Redemption ♡ Suguru Niragi ♡ Part One

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Suguru Niragi x Fem!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Part Two: Here Author's Note: UNEDITED! This is the first time I've ever written a fanfiction, and I'm sure it'll seem a little messy. I'm not sure where I'm going with this, or if I'll add more parts. I suppose it really depends on if people like it or not. I'm very new to Tumblr too, so please bear with me. I know this is pretty long and drawn out. I'm sorry! I do not own any characters/images!

Genre: Angst/Kinda fluffy?

Summary: Y/N has heard the warnings about Niragi since she first arrived at the Beach. After an awkward encounter, Niragi and Y/N are paired together for a game. Despite Niragi's cold and ruthless exterior, his demeanor shifts as he attempts to ensure their survival.

Word Count: 2230

Warnings: Blood, fear, death, language, OOC Niragi

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

There was just something about you. Something that led his glances towards you to last a few moments too long. Maybe it was the way you hugged yourself nervously, despite having been a member of the Beach for several months. You were always wary of your surroundings, but never rude. Never off-putting. You had a warm smile and a gentle demeanor. How could such a delicate thing survive so long in this twisted world?

He'd had his way with plenty of innocent women. Many weak women, who only made him feel that much stronger. Yet, he only needed one night with them before his interest was gone. He couldn't bring himself to approach you. Not you. Any other woman, he could destroy them. He could defile them without a second thought. A sinking feeling weighed his chest when he thought of doing something so cruel to you.

Yet, there he was, roaming the poolside, gun slung over his shoulder. Drunken partygoers danced and shouted around him. Even surrounded by chaos, his eyes glued to you. You, and your classy black bikini which was covered by a cardigan. You and your arms folded as you smiled and carried a conversation with Kuina.

You had heard the warnings about Niragi. You had had been made very aware of his cruel treatment towards nearly everyone one the Beach. Many called him unhinged: A psychopath. You made note to stay out of his way.

"Don't look now, but he's staring at you again." Kuina mumbled, her eyes locked on something behind you. You turn, and your eyes meet Niragi's. He looks away instantly, pretending to have not been peering in your direction to begin with. Kuina grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look back at her. "I said don't look now!" She giggles, shaking her head.

"Sorry!" You laugh as Kuina releases you. "Let him stare. I don't have any problem with it. Honestly, I have yet to have a single interaction with him." You shrug. It's true. Niragi tends discretely exit any room you enter or turn away when he sees you looking.

"Trust me, that's a good thing." Kuina sighs, almost pitying your naivety. "Although, he has seemed a little tamer as of late. I wonder what that bastard is planning.”

"Maybe he's not planning anything." You turn your head to look over your shoulder. Niragi is pacing the other end of the pool, his back turned to you. He looks over his shoulder for a moment, his eyes catching yours once again. For a split second, it almost seems that he's flustered. He scowls, turning to face away from you again. "He just seems so tense."

It's true, that Niragi's behavior has seemed to mellow since you joined the Beach. In front of you, he is on his best behavior. He himself can't understand why he changed, or why he suddenly feels sick when he looks at you. He would rather die than admit that part of him cares about how you percieve him.

Chishiya, seemingly out of nowhere, joins your conversation. You turn back, greeting the blonde. He returns the sentiment, before requesting that Kuina join him for something. You groan in disapproval. Kuina is the only real friend you've managed to make in your time here. With a quick apology, Kuina and Chishiya excuse themselves. You are left entirely alone to watch the rest of the Beach party.

From time to time, you glance at Niragi, who seems to be making rounds, pacing back and forth between both ends of the pool. His gaze stumbles to you on occasion, but you don't think much of it. Out of boredom and stupid confidence, you sigh and begin to approach him. It could help to make a new friend. Especially a friend that is a militant. You ignore all the warnings you've been given. An impulsive decision that would change your life.

"Hi." You say plainly, finally making your way to Niragi. For the first time, you can see his features up close. His face is decorated with silver piercings. His eyes are sharp, like a predator latched onto the sight of its' prey. His hair seems well maintained, shiny and brushed back out of his face. "I don't think we've met. I'm Y/N." You say, timidly, your confidence wavering slightly.

"...What do you want?" Niragi asks gruffly, continuing to walk. You walk beside him, having to pick up your pace to keep up. Niragi's steps are quick. Much quicker than a man on a leisurely walk. You wonder if he's trying to lose you in the crowd.

"Oh! I don't exactly want anything." You explain sheepishly, looking up at his expression. His face seems cold and unbothered. "I just hadn't introduced myself yet, and we always seem to end up in similar places. You're Niragi, right?"

"Yeah." He grumbles. This is not ideal. Can you see right through him? Can you see how nervous he is? He can feel the sweat beads rolling down his forehead.

"I was thinking-" You began, but he suddenly stopped walking, looking down at you. He glared at you, as if you were the most despicable person he had ever known.

"Don't think. I'm not your friend." His fingers shook as he gripped his gun so tightly that his knuckles were white. He couldn't stand being around you. Not out of hatred, but out of fear. He had never been afraid of someone the way he feared you. You made his heart race, and his stomach drop. You were the one person he didn't want to hurt, and he couldn't even give a good reason as to why.

Without another word, he walked away, leaving you speechless by the pool. Now you understood what others meant when they called him a douchebag. He was incredibly rude. You huffed, feeling defeated, before accepting this failure and returning to your room for the night.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

What were the odds that you would be put into a group with Niragi for your next game? You were piled into a cramped little car of six people including yourself, speeding down the road to a game arena. You were seated in the back, with two other girls who were making out viciously. Your discomfort was clear on your face. Niragi was seated in the passenger side, his gun resting between his legs. It brought you some comfort, knowing Niragi would be in the same game. He was definitely strong, and willing to do anything it took to win. You chose to see this as a good thing.

You pull up to a large office building. It's several stories tall, stretching up into the deep dark sky. You take a deep breath. The air is crisp and chilly. The dread of not knowing what was to come consumed your mind. You follow the rest of your group into the building, where there is a table of phones. Four have already been taken. This means, including your group, there are ten people in the game. Your steps echo in the empty building as you take a device, holding the black screen up to your face.

One minute and forty-seven seconds until registration closes. If your driver had gone any slower, you may not have made it to the game. Your visa expires today. The idea that death is always so close by sends a shiver down your spine.

With a chime, registration was closed. Your legs quivered as you mentally prepared yourself to hear the details of the game. A feminine robotic voice came on over the speakers. You hadn't noticed, but you were holding your breath.

Game: Tower of Echoes - Five of Clubs

Rules: You will each be paired with another player. Work with your partner to overcome obstacles. Each floor will present a unique challenge, combining physical skill, memory, and mental acuity. Incorrect answers will result in a penalty of deducted time. Once you have passed a floor, you may not return. In this game, your partner's fate is intertwined with your own. Should they die, so will you.

Clear Condition: Reach the rooftop of the tower before the time runs out

"Your partners will be assigned to your screen now." The voice says finally. You look down at your device. A slight relief washes over you when you see a grainy image of Niragi. Lifting your head to search for him, you're already met him his chest in front of you. He seems agitated as he speaks:

"You'd better not slow me down."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Blood. The sound of blood splatter and screams echoed through the building. It was nauseating. Your head spun as you trembled, looking down at your leg. Your thigh was slashed open on level nine. There was no way of knowing how much blood you had lost now. Still, Niragi urged you to continue. With only nine minutes remaining, you wondered how many levels were still left to go. You'd lost count at level fourteen. It had already been two hours and fifty-one minutes. How much longer could you continue.

"Fuck, I said let's go!" Niragi growled, beckoning you to follow him. He had blood on him too. His forehead was busted, his shirt was torn, and there were cuts littering his arms. Where did he find the drive to keep going? I let out a shaky breath, desperately trying to follow, but I was simply so much slower. "For fuck's sake!" He growls, rushing towards me.

I feel his arms swoop beneath me as he lifts me up. He carries me as if I weigh nothing, hurrying to our next challenge. I feel guilt surging through me, and if I had enough blood left, I would be blushing. I could hear his heart beating through his chest, and his labored breaths as the sound of his steps echoed up the steps. Finally, he set me down, facing another test. Nobody is on this floor, but us.

There are three doors before you. A red one, a blue one, and a green one. Each has a different clue. On the red door are the words "The green door leads to certain death". On the blue, "The red door is the path to freedom". Finally, the green door says "This door is safe. Ignore the red door's warning".

"Shit." Niragi groans. This hardly felt like a clubs game now. Not with all the puzzles and obstacles. There are three minutes remaining on the clock. Time seems to be flying by too quickly. Niragi looks expectantly at you, as if you had some sort of answer. "Are you gonna be useful during this game or what?!"

"I... I don't know!" You begin to hyperventilate. Your life might be ending within the next five minutes. The pressure is overwhelming as the room spins. Niragi grabs your shoulders. He's far from the shy, rude, nervous character you had attempted to introduce yourself to several days prior. He looks at you with urgency, a look you'd never seen on him before.

"I need you to think." He says. His tone is demanding, yet smooth. "You're a smart girl, yeah? I've heard about what you can do in those diamond games. Now think. We're not going to die here."

You look back at the doors, your breathing slowing as you try to focus. There is one minute remaining. You have to be quick. Both the red and green door cast doubt at one another. The blue door points towards the red door, but is this a diversion? It feels as though this is a game of pure luck. As the seconds count down, you decide to take a chance.

"The blue door." You shout, your voice hoarse from all the strain and dehydration. Niragi looks at you skeptically, but nods, throwing your arm over his shoulder as he guides you to the blue door. "Dear god please let this be right." You whisper as Niragi clutches the handle of the door.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

A wave of fresh cold air hits your face as the door swings open. You're on the roof. You made it to the roof. You won. You turn to see another pair finally making it up the stairs to the last floor, but it's too late. The bright red lasers you have feared since the beginning come raining down into their skulls. Crimson blood splashes onto the walls as their bodies slump over, cascading down the steps.

You turn to look at Niragi, who's already looking down at you. How lucky it was, that you were paired with him. You felt safe, his strength holding you from putting too much pressure on your wounded leg. His expression screams of his protective feelings towards you. He seems relieved to be alive.

"Niragi." He says, his voice gruff as a smirk plays on his face. Maybe he can allow himself this simple pleasure of getting to know you. Of being in your presence.

"What?" You smile. Despite the horror of all you've experienced today, your gentle smile still sends flurries of butterflies to Niragi's stomach.

"Niragi. Nice to meet you, Y/N." He says, finally replying to the introduction you had tried to make not too long ago. Your name rolls off his tongue like a melody, as if it was meant to be there from the start.

[shinidamachu]

the importance of "I'll protect you with my life"

For @inukag-week's sacrifice prompt, I thought I'd expand on a topic I have only mentioned before: the "I'll protect you with my life" line and why it matters even more than we give it credit for.

The thing about Inuyasha's character is that he was build — both physically and psychologically — to survive.

Physically, the fact that his own blood can be weaponized into a powerful attack backs up that assumption.

And so does the fact that one of his defining traits is having a defense mechanism that kicks in whenever he's on the verge of certain death with the sole purpose of keeping him alive.

Psychologically, his tough childhood shaped his survival instincts into a reliable and sharpened sense. And this next part is more of a conjecture than anything else, but I believe Izayoi's death plays a huge role here.

It can be assumed that she gave up a lot in order to live her love story and her life choices ultimately resulted in an early death. Inuyasha, being the child born from that love, has no better way of honoring her memory than living. First, for her. Then, to spite those who were against his very existence.

And this — conscious or not — need to live, is deeply intertwined with his desire to belong. Fitting in is the safest way to survive and, at first, he tried to achieve that by becoming a powerful demon.

Then, he went the opposite direction and agreed to turn into human, which only cements that his true wish wasn't to simply become one or the other at all, but to be accepted, so he could live.

That's why he doesn't take threats to his life laying down, especially when unearned. It may not look like, given his reckless way of dealing with things, but in a crooked way, Inuyasha actually values his life.

So much, in fact, that putting other people's lives above his own was a foreign concept that he struggled with at the beginning and had to learn in order to wield Tessaiga.

When Kagome tells Inuyasha she will help him with the sword under the condition he promises to protect her, she obviously never meant that said protection should cost of his life.

She wouldn't dream of it because she knows she's not entitled to it. He doesn't owe her anything. Although, one could make a point that he kind of does.

Kagome is literally the reason he is alive. Through their journey, is a recurring theme that her voice would bring him back from death's grasp every time. She's constantly saving his life. In more ways than one.

And despite Inuyasha's immediate reaction to her request being to mock her and making it clear that he never said he would protect her forever, he was the one to willingly and unpromtly add the "with my life" bit.

Even though protecting Kagome with his life was precisely what he had been doing the entire time — in spite of spending a good chunk of the series thinking his life wasn't his to give away —, to say it out loud makes for an amazing paralel and it shows how much they've grown, both as characters and as a couple.

But more than that: it shows a whole new level of devotion. For the first time ever, Inuyasha is chosing to promise his life to someone for no other reason than the fact that he loves her.

And despite talking about a lifelong commitment, I can't remember a single stance of the story where Inuyasha had acted more free.

No wonder the scene can be interpreted as a proposal.

[darkbluekies]

The witty and uncanny

Doctor!yandere OC x reader x Mafia!yandere OC

Summary: After escaping Silas, you wake up at the hospital with a doctor who hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. And now, you have two to escape from ... at the same time.

Warnings: yandere, needles, gun + gunshot, blood, fighting, getting drugged, unhealthy relationships, jealousy, scalpels, a lot of drama

word count: 3.2k

Part 2

A bright light stings in your eyes as you pry them open. You whimper slightly at all the different pains in your body. You're lying in a bed, but it's not very comfortable.

"Oh, you're awake", an unfamiliar voice says. "I started to get worried."

A blurry shadow appears in front of your eyes. You blink a few times until you see the outline of a blonde man.

"How are you?" he asks softly.

You open your mouth to answer, but it's drier than a desert. The man puts a plastic cup to your lips and you sip a few mouthfuls of water.

"There we go, good job", he smiles. "Now, how are you?"

"Where am I?" you whisper.

"At the hospital. Do you remember anything?"

"I …" 

You stay silent as you look at the doctor. Don't you recognize him?

"Have we met before?" you ask quietly.

"The two of us?" he repeats. "Yes, we have. I cared for you a year ago when you came to check up on your sore throat. I'm doctor Kry."

"Oh, right … I remember."

A few seconds of silence occur as you try to remember last year. Everything feels so blurry after Silas took you.

"Now I'll ask again: how are you?" the man asks.

"I'm hurting", you admit.

"Nothing is broken, I can assure you of that. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Silas, he- …" Shit. You shouldn't have said anything.

Dr Kry grows increasingly stiffer hearing the other man's name.

"Silas? Who's that? Your boyfriend?"

"No."

At least you don't think so. You never agreed to become Silas’s partner … or his prisoner for that matter.

"That's relieving to hear", Dr Kry smiles slightly and brushes the hair out of your face. "Can you tell me what happened? I won't tell anyone. I have to stay silent by law."

You gulp. You had escaped Silas during a mission of his. He'd brought you with him for who knows what reason and you managed to run while he wasn't looking. When he noticed that you were gone, you had to throw yourself down a cliff to get out of his reach. Landing in the water, you had no other choice but to swim to shore and then run for your life. You had been running for hours until exhaustion took over you. You fainted in a park. Now you're here.

You give the doctor a brief explanation, leaving out most of the information about Silas and his job.

"Why were you running from him?" Dr Kry asks suspiciously. "Did he hurt you?"

You nod. When you close your eyes you can see the basement's stone walls in front of you.

"Don't worry, Y/N, you won't get hurt ever again", Dr Kry promises. "You're safe with me now, okay?"

You shake your head quickly. You'll never be free from Silas! He's insane! He'll burn down the hospital once he finds you.

"Calm down, dear", Dr Kry smiles. "You're safe, I promise. This hospital has fantastic security. You wouldn't be able to break out from here even if you tried to."

You nod carefully, deciding to try to calm down. After all, you haven’t gotten the slightest bit of relaxation after Silas stole you away from your life. Resting now might be crucial in case Silas decides to find you again. Otherwise you might be too vulnerable for Silas's harsh manipulation. You won’t survive the basement if you’re not rested up. 

Dr Kry sits with you as you sleep, watching over you. He goes through some papers, reading through your journals. 

“Oh, my dear Y/N”, he whispers for himself, flipping pages, knowing full well you cannot hear him. “Finally you’re back with me.”

A while later, there’s a knock at the door. Dr Kry frowns and walks over to open. WHat he’s met with takes him by surprise. A black haired man with a long coat and a gun in his hand. 

“Where are they?” he hisses. 

Dr Kry looks at the gun with a glare and clenches his jaw. 

“You must be Silas”, he says warningly, still sounding calm.

“Back away”, Silas says darkly, pointing with the gun. “Go to your desk.”

Dr Kry backs away slowly, refusing to look away from Silas. Silas notices your sleeping form in the bed, breathing out in relief. 

“Y/N!” he says. “Little thing, wake up.”

“Don’t”, Dr Kry says quickly. “They just fell asleep. If you wake them up I’ll call for security and you’ll leave this hospital in pieces.”

Silas scoffs as one side of his mouth pulls up. “I’m the one with the gun here. I make the rules, okay, doc?”

“This is my territory that you’ve trespassed on. Here, I’m in charge.”

Silas glances at your sleeping form, at the bruises on your skin and the IV-drop next to your bed. 

“What have you done to them?” he growls. 

“What have I done?” Dr Kry repeats in shock. “They were worse when I took them in! What you see there, you have caused when they were running from you.”

Silas pushes Dr Kry up against the wall, knocking some of the air out of his lungs. The black haired man is a tad bit taller than him, but he isn’t feeling threatened. He’s furious. This man has caused you harm. He needs to be taken care of before you wake up. Dr Kry can’t let you see any of his bad sides. Silas puts the gun against Dr Kry’s temple. 

“If you’re so stupid to kill me here, you better find another doctor to care for your ‘little thing’”, Dr Kry says, mocking Silas’s nickname for you. 

Silas gives the doctor a nasty look and lets him go harshly. He’s about to walk over to you, but Dr Kry storms after, grabbing his arm. 

“Don’t even think about moving them”, he warns Silas. “They’re hurt thanks to you. They need to heal up!”

“I will get them everything they need”, Silas mutters. 

“Yeah, sure. Since when do you know how to use medical equipment? Smallest misstep and you’ll harm them. I’m not going to let you do anything that could worsen their condition.”

Silas gulps and looks around, hate still clear in his eyes, but now also a bit of worry. 

“Fine”, he mutters. “I guess I’ll let them stay here until they’re better.”

Dr Kry smiles inside. Oh, you’ll never get better. 

By now, you open your eyes after all the sound the two men have caused. Your gasp alerts the two of them, turning both their heads towards you. Your eyes are stuck on Silas with fear glowing in them. 

“N-No-”, you almost sob. 

“Don’t cry, little thing”, Silas says and pushes Dr Kry out of the way. “Come here-”

“No! Don’t touch me!”

Your scream hurts Dr Kry’s ears. He grabs Silas’s shoulders and forces him away from you, standing in between him and you as a shield. Silas is about to throw himself at the doctor when he sees how you hide behind him. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he spits. “Y/N is mine! If I want to touch my baby, I have all the damn right to do so!”

“You forget that this is my territory”, Dr Kry warns him calmly , taking your hand. “I decide who touches my patients or not and right now, I’m the only one allowed to.”

“Oh, you’re so full of shit. Let go of their fucking hand right now.”

"Or what? You're going to shoot me? We've been through this already. If you shoot me you don't have anyone else to care for them. Is that what you want?"

"I'll find someone else."

"Then are you really going to put Y/N through this? If you shoot me, my blood will splatter on them. Try manipulating them to like you after that."

"You piece of shit-"

Silas is about to attack him, but Dr Kry picks up a scalpel and holds it in front of him.

"If you have to be here, be of use and sit down", the doctor sighs and rolls his eyes. "And be quiet. You're scaring Y/N."

You've curled up on the bed to protect your fragile body from Silas’s wrath. The man with the gun sighs heavily.

"This is fucking ridiculous", he mutters and sinks down in the chair in the corner of the room. "Why am I listening to you?"

Dr Kry smiles slightly and holds a cup of water to your lips. You choke on it thanks to the stress of having Silas in the room. You're waiting for him to have had enough and get rid of your doctor. He's the only form of protection you have. 

"Breathe", Dr Kry whispers. "Don't look at him."

"What are you saying to them?" Silas asks quickly, suspiciously.

"Nothing. Instead of trying to eavesdrop, go to the vending machine  on the floor below and get your 'little thing' something to eat."

"Why should I? You're the doctor!"

"Exactly. I'm the doctor. I have to stay with the patient at all costs."

"You fucking asshole."

"Y/N hasn't been eaten once since they came here."

Silas growls and stands up. He gives you one warning gaze before rushing out. Doctor Kry waits a few seconds before hurrying over to the other side of the bed, carefully removing the needle out of your arm. He places his arms under your body, carefully lifting you up.

"W-What are you doing?" you gasp.

"Getting you away from here. I'm going to take care of that man, but in that case, I can't have you close."

Dr Kry carries you out of the room, glancing at the ends of the corridor before running to the elevator.

"You don't understand!" you almost sib. "Silas will kill if you do this! He's insane, h-he'll-"

"So am I."

"What?"

A shiver runs down your spine. 

"I don't like to admit it, but I do have some scary thoughts too sometimes", Dr Kry says disappointingly. "Don't worry, I will take care of that man. Afterwards, you and I can go back to being together. I won't let anything hurt you."

You shake your head slowly, realization hitting you. No, this can't be it …

"You sound like him …", you whisper quietly. "You sound like Silas …"

"No, I don't."

"L-Let me down."

"I can't. You're not well enough to walk by yourself. I have to protect you." 

Dr Kry leaves the elevator and steps out into a dimly lit cemented corridor. You must be far below ground.

"He won't find you here", Dr Kry says.

His voice makes you shiver.

"Let me go", you whine and start to fight against his strong embrace. "Let me go! I'm going to scream."

"Scream all you want, Y/N, but I'd be surprised if anyone could hear you down here."

He opens a door into a white experiment cell. You shake your head desperately. This reminds you too much of the basement. The only thing in the room is a wall made of a mirror, a table and a chair. Dr Kry lets you down in the chair and walks towards the door. You hurry up and try to run past him, but he captures your arm and pulls you back.

"Don't tire yourself out, sweetheart", he says. "You won't get well that way."

"I threw myself off a fucking cliff! A little running won't do anything to me!"

Dr Kry manages to pry your arm off him and push you into the room before going out and locking the door. You pound the door with your fists, screaming. Dr Kry gulps and makes his way back to the elevator. You're safe here, he reassures himself.

Silas makes his way back to your room with a burning rage in his heart and a protein bar in his hand. That doctor has a storm coming for him. Silas is going to hang him upside down until the blood suffocates his brain. And he'll watch it all with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. And you? One thing's for sure: you're never coming with him for a mission ever again. He can't believe that you did all of this to get rid of him.

"I seriously need to get a couple therapist", he mutters to himself and reaches for the door handle into the room.

Before he touches it, he stops. Something’s wrong. He swings it open and finds it empty. You’re not in the bed and the doctor is nowhere to be seen. Silas takes out his gun from his coat again. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you”, he promises. 

“How funny, because I was thinking the same thing”, a voice behind him says, catching him by surprise. 

Silas turns around to see Dr Kry putting on white gloves. Silas turns his gun towards him. Dr Kry scoffs out a low chuckle.

“But the difference between our deaths is that yours will be quiet and quick”, he says, taking up a needle from his pocket and testing the spurt. “No one will know if you’ve left the hospital or not.” He nods at the weapon in his hand. “One shot with the gun and everyone will know that something has happened to me. You won’t get away with it.”

“You’re wrong, I’ve gotten away with a lot of things. This will be nothing out of the ordinary.”

“You sure do a lot of talking for someone with a gun in their hands.”

“Well, I can’t fucking kill you before you tell me where the fuck Y/N is. Now spit it out. I’m sick of this!”

“Why should I tell you? You’re clearly only causing them harm.”

Silas growls and throws himself at Dr Kry, not being able to control himself anymore. The doctor gets knocked to the floor. Just as Silas is about to start punching him, the doctor stabs him in the arm with the needle. Silas is quick to get off him and rip it out.

"W-What the fuck was that?" he asks quickly.

"Something to make you sleep", Dr Kry smirks from the floor, still lying on his back but now propped up by his elbows. 

Shit. Silas looks around for something. He grabs a stapler on top of the desk and slams it into Dr Kry’s head, knocking him unconscious. He starts rummaging through his pockets until he finds a key. 'Laboratory 2', it says on a small label.

"Where the fuck is that?" he pants. "Hey doc- … nevermind."

He hurries out into the corridor. He's not sure if the exhaustion he feels is from the needle or if it is from his imagination. All he knows is that he has to find you before he falls unconscious on the floor. 

Silas finds a floorplan over the hospital. His finger follows the illustration lazily. Damn it, stay conscious. Silas finds the laboratory three floors underground. He drags himself over to the elevators and presses the right button. His body is growing more and more tired, eyes wanting to shut. The image of Dr Kry appears in his brain and he grimaced. He has to continue. The doctor seems to want you for himself too. Over Silas's dead body.

Silas steps out of the elevator and looks around in this new, dimly lit corridor. The walls are made out of concrete. It reminds him of the basement. His vision starts to fail him. He's seeing double. But nonetheless, he finds the right door. He struggles to place the key in the hole now that he can barely see. The click from the lock gives him hope. Inside, he finds you curled up in a corner on the other side of the room, glaring at him.

"Don't be scared, Y/N", he says, voice sounding distant. "I'm not going to hurt you. I've- … I've learned from my mistakes … I'm going … going to …"

"What's wrong with you, Silas?" you ask hesitantly.

"That fucking doctor … he … he stab- … stabbed me with a … uh, with a needle. But that … doesn't … doesn't matter. I'm taking you with me any- … anyway. I'll kill him."

He reaches out for you, but you scurry away from him. His sloppy movements give you time to run past him out into the corridor. The elevator is free! Behind you, you can hear his body hitting the floor. Just as you're about to walk into the elevator, you remember the gun Silas has on him. You could use that. 

You give the elevators one last glance before running back to the testing room. You rummage through his pockets, finding the weapon in his coat. 

The elevator is occupied now. You swear mentally. You need to get out of here before Dr Kry comes. The elevator stops on your level … and opens. You're met by Dr Kry’s cold eyes. Blood is running down his face from his forehead. His eyes light up as he sees you.

"Y/N!" he gasps in relief. "Thank God! Where's Silas!"

"Unconscious", you mumble, pointing at the open door, "in there."

"Good, good. Let him be. Wait … why do you have his gun?"

"Why do you think so?! To protect myself, of course. It doesn't seem like anyone else is!"

"No, no, you are safe — with me!" 

"No. Something’s wrong with you too. I don't like it."

You hold up the gun towards him.

"Y/N, don't be ridiculous, I'm normal!" He says, glancing towards the weapon. "Come now, let's go to bed. You need to heal up. I'll take care of Silas. I saved you, didn't I?"

"I'm not sure. Did you really save me if you're the same?" You hover your finger over the trigger. "Get out of my way."

"Are you really going to shoot me here?"

"You said that no one would hear anything down here. So why shouldn't I?"

Dr Kry clenches his jaw. He looks at something behind you and his eyes widen. 

"H-How are you conscious?!"

In horror, you turn before Silas can touch you. To your surprise, it’s empty. You don’t have time to realize what has happened before Dr Kry grabs you from behind and steals the gun out of your hand. 

“Now, enough of this”, he says. “Come now, Y/N. We’re wasting time where you could be resting. I really don’t want to use the gun against you, but if you don’t realize what’s best for you, then I have to take drastic measures. Come now, little on, let’s go.”

He leads you into the elevator. The doors close. You glance at the gun with a plan in mind. You sink down the wall with your hand over your throat.

“What’s wrong?” Dr Kry asks quickly. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

“N-No”, you lie while forcing yourself to pant. “I can’t breathe!”

Dr Kry sinks down on his knees in front of you, letting go of the gun and starts to feel around your neck gently. You grab the gun and without a second thought, shoot him in the foot. The doctor screams out in pain and clutches the hurt area. 

“Y/N!” he shouts. “What are you doing?!”

“Getting the fuck out of here”, you sigh in stress. 

As soon as the doors open, you run without ever looking back. You know that you have a race against the clock. Silas will wake up sometime and Dr Kry won’t let this slide. Whether you like it or not … they’ll be back for you. Their little Y/N. 

[jjkamochoso]

Order Up!

Fluff

Feitan Portor x gn!reader

Feitan would do anything to keep you happy--including threatening a chef who messes up your order.

Warnings: mentions of violence and blood, some suggestive dialogue

"Feitan! Please, will you eat there with me?"

You and Feitan had been enjoying your free time without jobs lately. The last heist the whole Phantom Troupe was on had a huge payout meaning you could live more than comfortably for a while and you figured this was the best time to try the super fancy restaurant you had been eyeing ever since you stepped foot in the city you and your boyfriend were staying in. Feitan had his cowl pulled up but you could tell he was frowning.

"Why waste money? Good food for cheaper elsewhere."

You wore a pout, hoping to convince the stubborn man. "But it's our one chance to enjoy a nice date! We don't have opportunities like this often, you know."

Feitan couldn't disagree with that. There were times where you two had to survive on eating food from a trash can and now you were practically drowning in money. He still didn't like the idea of spending so much on something that wasn't tangible, though. He'd much rather save his money and steal you something nice that you could keep forever, like jewelry.

"I could wear that outfit you love so much," you suggested, turning on your charm the best you could. "What do you think, Fei?"

You heard him growl softly and you knew you broke his resolve.

"Fine. I take you there. Go get ready."

You couldn't contain your excitement as you gave him a quick hug and ran off to the shower in your hotel room. The person whose credit card you stole must've had deep pockets because you'd been staying here for about a month and haven't been kicked out yet. That, or Feitan tracked him down and killed him so he couldn't dispute the charges. Either way, it didn't matter to you since you were relishing the high life while you could. You took your time under the warm water, letting the smell of luxury soap wrap around you. When you were finished, you dried off with a big fluffy towel. As you applied lotion, you heard a knock on the bathroom door.

"Hurry up in there. I take shower too."

You were lucky Feitan couldn't see the shock on your face. He rarely showered and often had a scent of blood that trailed after him. This, of course, didn't bother you as you found him quite attractive in his greasy, metallic smelling state of being, but the fact that he wanted to show you he was taking this date seriously meant the world to you. You rubbed in the last of the lotion and put on your soft white bathrobe. It came with the hotel but it would definitely be leaving with you. You opened the door and hurried out of the way so Feitan could wash off. You let out a surprised gasp as his super fast reflexes caught you off guard, grabbing your hand before you could pass him by. His cowl and jacket were thrown on the floor and you were pulled into his t-shirt clad body, a rare moment of affection from the Spider.

"You smell yummy," he said, his nose rubbing against the crook of your neck, "I could just eat you for dinner instead."

"Feitan!" you whined, feeling your entire body heat up from his words. "As lovely as that sounds, we need actual food."

"Just one bite? A little taste?" he whispered, his razor sharp teeth grazing your now bare shoulder.

As much as you were enjoying this softer side of Feitan, you were getting to that restaurant in a timely fashion.

"Get into the shower or I'll throw you in the bathtub and scrub you like a dog."

He pulled away reluctantly, grey eyes ablaze with something less reminiscent of love and more akin to the blood lust of a predator toying with its prey. Whatever it was, you knew you wouldn't be leaving any time soon if you kept playing into his game.

"Go," you said sternly, pointing to the open bathroom door and pulling your robe back up on your shoulders. Feitan just cackled as he closed the door behind him and you knew tonight was going to be very interesting.

As he emerged from the bathroom, his hair freshly washed and styled, barely worn tuxedo gracing his small frame, Feitan caught a glimpse of you. He was often quiet, choosing to observe rather than speak his mind most times, but for once, he was genuinely speechless. Your outfit brought out your most attractive features and he couldn't stop staring. You felt his gaze from the corner of your eye and started to feel a bit self conscious being under such serious scrutiny.

"Is it too much? I think maybe I should change-"

Feitan cut you off with words in his native tongue. You were too afraid to ask what he said but he continued, effectively answering your question.

"Stunning. You perfect."

Self doubt threatened to overcome you but you swallowed it down. Feitan doesn't lie and certainly doesn't sugarcoat anything. If he said something, it was the truth. To him, you were everything he could ever ask for. To you, he was the whole world.

"You look handsome yourself, my love. Thank you for doing this for me."

"This for us. We deserve it."

You two put the finishing touches on your outfits, you attaching Feitan's bowtie while he clasped your jewelry. Walking out of the hotel lobby, you turned many heads as onlookers watched you with jealousy. You were a sight to behold, the true definition of a power couple. The walk to the restaurant was short and you were there before you knew it. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as Feitan opened the door for you. The ambiance inside was like nothing you had ever seen. It was dark, no overhead lighting to be seen, and candles were lit everywhere your eyes landed. There was someone playing the piano in a corner of the restaurant and you overheard one of the staff members talking about a reservation for a big name celebrity that was going to be there later. You were almost overwhelmed by the whole atmosphere being completely foreign to you but were brought back down to earth by Feitan's hand barely resting on your lower back. You knew he wasn't into touching or PDA of any kind so you wondered if he was turning to you for reassurance in this strange place as well. You gave him a soft smile as you walked up to the hostess. Feitan told her a name the reservation was under, which surprised you. There was no way he could've gotten one without you noticing, especially in only a few hours. You were fully expecting to have to wait for an open spot so when she quickly ushered the two of you to a secluded table, you were taken aback. You thanked her as she left menus for you to peruse.

"Did you do this for me?" you asked, gesturing to the table.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

Feitan didn't give you a verbal response but you knew he took your appreciativeness to heart. He didn't want to spoil the romantic mood right now but couldn't wait to tell you how he tracked down the maitre d' in record time and offered to help him lose some weight in the form of less limbs if he didn't secure the best table for you. You saw the menu didn't have prices and you knew you were in for one expensive meal, but you were practically vibrating with excitement to try one of everything. Feitan still didn't get the appeal of this place but he wasn't going to put a damper on your fun so he stayed silent as you rambled off your order. He put in his order as well and the waiter was off, leaving you to bask in the candlelight.

"This must be the life that boss lives every night," you mused, earning a slight smile from the man across from you. As you waited for your food, you both chatted about whatever crossed your minds at the time, enjoying the calm dining experience. Your appetizers finally came and you dug right in. You had never eaten anything so delicious in your entire life. You didn't even know food could taste like this! As you devoured your helping, Feitan was more apprehensive. The presentation of his dish was much too fancy. People eat like this every day? He didn't understand it but wasn't going to keep putting much thought to something that didn't really matter. When the food hit his tastebuds, he was pleasantly surprised. The composition may look silly, putting that much work into something that wouldn't last more than a few minutes, but it was so flavorful. You sneaked a bite off each other's plates, complimenting one another on your choices. You eagerly awaited the main course as Feitan was coming to terms with wasting his money here. When your new plates were set down in front of you, Feitan immediately put his fork into it and started shoveling. You, on the other hand, frowned.

"Aww man! I asked for no cheese."

You heard a loud clink of silverware striking porcelain. Feitan had dropped his fork and reached for your plate while you swatted him away.

"What are you doing?"

His eyes narrowed. "You no like it? They fix for you. I make sure."

"It's not a big deal, I promise," you sighed, but he wasn't having it.

"They mess up, they fix. You don't eat what you don't want. Not today, not ever."

He was usually headstrong but you had never seen him so adamant about something.

"Okay, if you want, you can let them know. Just, please, be nice about it? I want to be able to come back here in the future."

Feitan's smile did nothing to quell your fears; that made you worry even more about what he was planning to do. When he stalked off into the kitchen with your plate, you gathered your things to be ready to make a run for it in case the police were called.

Feitan was just beginning to not hate this place when they had the audacity to mess up your order. Of course he was going to fix it, he wasn’t going to let you eat something you didn't find enjoyable. He meandered into the kitchen, kicking open the doors loud enough to gather everyone's attention in there.

"Which one of you cook this?" he asked, showcasing the plate before resting it on the counter. A few of the staff rushed toward him, faces red with anger.

"You can't be in here!" one of them yelled. The staff member went to grab Feitan to drag him out but Feitan acted fast, grabbing a knife from the block and slamming the guy's hand down on the counter. He kept the knife poised over one of the man's fingers, drawing blood, as he addressed everyone.

"If you no answer question, man's fingers will be chopped like carrot. Who cooked this?"

One chef nervously stepped away from the others, raising his hand in trepidation. "I-I did, s-sir. Was it not to... to your satisfaction?"

"My partner asked no cheese. Cheese was there. You fix or your eyeballs end up in spaghetti. Got it?"

The chef, fighting back tears, shook his head and quickly re fired the dish. Feitan, now content, released the first man he apprehended and hurried back to you. He would never want to keep you waiting unnecessarily.

When Feitan came back, you were relieved that no one was screaming and his tuxedo wasn't covered in blood.

"I take it that it went well?" you asked.

"Yep. Your food will be out soon. Right, this time."

"You didn't have to do that for me. But thank you for showing you care."

You couldn't tell if it was a trick of the light or if his eyes actually softened for a second.

"You're welcome. I care all the time. I try to show more."

You reached over and gave his hand a short squeeze and he readily accepted it. When your main course came out again, the waiter dropped it off and practically ran away, leaving you happy with your correct order and Feitan happy at the fear he ignited in the staff.

"Better?" he asked, taking a bite of his own meal.

"Much," you replied.

The rest of the night went smoothly and the waiter informed you that the bill was being covered by the chef who messed up your main course. In addition, he comped two desserts as a sign of good faith and you were elated when they arrived at your table.

"You're not gonna have anything?" you asked, a big piece of cake dangling from the confines of your spoon. Feitan looked you up and down, a mischievous smirk appearing on his face.

"I'm saving room for my dessert at home."

[hidtired]

A Single Punch [Part 2]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Description: The aftermaths to the line up leaves you with serious injury. With most of the group to believe you dead. How will your recovery go at Hilltop? How will people react to seeing you?

2.6k words

Warnings (much angst, injury, near death, depression, recovery, typical walking dead shenanigans) [happy ending… eventually]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Your POV

The steady hum and rocking of the truck bed is what woke you from unconsciousness. The wind ripping around you. It was hard to breathe. Even more so when you realized that you were next to two bodies, presuming that they used to be your friends. What had happened again? A bat? Line of your family being chosen for death. You were one of those chosen. The thought of "I'm alive." While not necessarily feeling like it. You were alive. Your body moving on it own slapping the back of the truck with your bloody hand. Bloody and very broken if the sharp pain sent threw you didn't tell you anything.

The sharp pain making you groan and rolling into yourself. A wheeze still in your lungs. You felt like you were spinning. The loud bang of the tail gate making you jump. Everything felt wrong something is wrong.

"I can't, please it hurts."

Sasha flinched when you spoke. Believing for a second she dreamt it. But your small whimpering and sobs made her drop closer to you. "Y-your still alive- I don't-" Your face and hair were covered in your own blood. Not knowing the location its coming from. Sasha pulling herself together after the initial shock. She turned to Maggie who stood wobbly and in shock seeing you trying to move and talk. Your speech was becoming incomprehensible now. Sasha slipped off a layer of clothing to hold to your head. She turned back to Maggie again, ''Go get back into the car!" Sasha felt you go still again. She had to move fast. Jumping over the side of the truck closing the tailgate. She was not letting Negan have you to.

Days later...

You opened your eyes groggy and confused. Looking over to see Maggie in a bed herself. You try and move your hand up to remove something blocking your right side of your head. Expect your hand stopped bounded to the bed. Maggie heard you move and slowly approached you, "Shh, your safe." This wasn't your first time awake but it was the first that you were more aware.

"W-wha?" Your speech was slurred. But Maggie saw it in your eyes. For the first time she saw you in them. She sniffled, "Y/n thank goodness. I thought you were..." She shook her head and put a hand to your shoulder. "I'll be right back ok? I need to get the doctor?" You simply tried to look at her face trying to gauge what was wrong. She sped out the room leaving you to stare out after her.

She came rushing back into the room with a man. He was speaking to fast at you but they were questions asking your name and if you knew where you were. The man shined a light in your face. You tried to look away from the light because it hurt. You looked at the man with squinted eyes, "H-errrs-sel?" You looked back to Maggie with a questioning look. Only to get a sad look back. Sasha then came through the door in a haste hearing you were awake again.

"Is she doing any better?" She huffed out of breath. The man you had zero clue about simply looked back to you and sighed. "It looks like the swelling in her brain is reducing. I don't know the extent of the brain damage she will have, but her chances of survival just increased." Maggie sighed with the first bit of good news about you. Tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. She smiled at you. You with having no clue what's going on simply mirrored her back with your own smile. You try and raise your other hand but not feeling it at all you look down to see your arm in a cast and bound close to your chest.

The man who you couldn't place, doctor man, started talking again. "Its only been 2 days, for that much time she is doing better then I could have ever imagined. I think she may have taken most of the blow to her hand. However, head trauma is always unpredictable." They jumped at the sound of your gasp looking at you to see what was wrong. You were just looking at Maggie looking her up and down.

"Ba-baby?!" Maggie moved closer to you and started to try and sooth your worry. "Is fine, the baby and me are ok." You relax back into your sheets. Dr. Carson simply studied you. "I would like someone to be with her at all times now. She could have a stroke or start seizing. She still needs to be bound to the bed for all are safety. If she is still awake in a hour try having her eat or drink." Maggie and Sasha both nodded and looked at each other giving a determined look.

Few hours later you were still awake having to be reminded to 'keep your eyes open' and 'need to stay awake.' You would ask things, try to at least. Most of what you said didn't make sense to anyone but you. The worst was the look on your face remembering about something or someone that was lost along the way. When you were asking about a baby you were meaning Lori and Judith. You knew something with a baby was wrong and that was the only one you could think of until Maggie said that her and her baby was ok that you remembered.

The longer you were awake you would get better minimal but still better. But you began asking for something they couldn't give you.

"Dar-ryl?" They always try to come up with something. 'he is on a run' or 'he is out hunting.' But that didn't stop the want for him. You were frustrated at the broken bits of your brain. You knew Daryl always put those pieces together.

Daryl POV

His cell was cold, dark, and always seemed to have one song playing on loop. It was torture. Not however as much torture then the loss of you was. He never knew the kind of love she gave him. She was a first, and now last. The pain in his shoulder and face from the beating he has gotten were nothing like the one in his heart, his soul. That night replayed over in his head. He thought about how he deserved to have gotten killed not Glenn. He cause Maggie to be a single mother now. He deserved this. Being here.

He thought back to when Rick lost Lori. He didn't understand then. But sure as hell did now.

The door handle started to move, the music cutting off, assuming he was getting the normal moldy bread and dog food. Dwight walked in throwing the food down to the floor. "The sooner you join the sooner this will stop." Daryl all but chuckled, "and what become like you?" Now that pissed Dwight off, striking a nerve. But Daryl lead on more, "I get it. Your doing it for someone else. But I don't have that anymore." Daryl sent a look that could kill. Dwight only studied him and shook his head at him. Throwing two polaroid to the floor, "Someone else doesn't have that anymore either." Before slamming the door shut. The music came on but then changed to a more somber tune.

Daryl hesitated to pick up the pictures before doing so and seeing the images with the smallest light coming from under the door. Yours and Glenn's bodies. His breath hitched looking at it. You the women he loved and a friend who would still be alive with his wife and child if he never existed. He lost it. Sobbing. Broken.

He made a promise to not just you but himself that he was going to do right by you. He still had a mission. By the end of it this place will be burning to ground. Even if he had to go with it.

Maggie POV

After having to deal with a man like Gregory she needed to clear her head before it was her turn to sit with you. Making her way over to were Glenn and Abraham were buried. She was met by Enid staring down to the graves.

''Enid?" She walked over to the young teen and hugged her. Enid sniffled before explaining why she was there, wanted to see if she and the baby were ok. Enid gestured to the two graves. "I didn't know which one was his." Enid the paused, "Why is there only two, where is the third?"

With that Maggie smiled and waved her hands to come follow her. Enid was confused at the action. They stepped into Jesus trailer were they all have taken over at this point. There Enid saw you, she gasped in surprise and disbelief at the sight of you. You jumping at the noise. Breaking your focus from a card game that was to help your memory. Also keeping you distracted. Sasha sitting next you surprised to see Enid, "Are you with the others?" Enid shook her head while approaching your table. "How is this possible..." She sat down across from you. You simply stared back but continued with your cards pointing to one for Sasha to flip. You were struggling with mobility.

Sasha sighed catching the hint and continued flipping cards for you to match. Enid looked at you more closely. Your face was still swollen and was a mix of purples, blues, and yellows. The top to the right of your head had a part of your hair shaved with stitching. You looked pale. Your speech has gotten better but you were just to tired to speak much. It showed in your eyes. You still had your arm in a cast brought close to your chest by a sling. Watching Enid study you Maggie decided to add some insight. "We didn't know she was alive until half way to Hilltop. Didn't know if she would make it even a few days after."

Enid look to you with pity. She saw how sick you were even before leaving Alexandria. At least that seemed to be better. Maggie cleared her throat, "How is everything back at Alexandria."

Enid explained about how they took and trashed everything back home. Maggie could only scowl at the thought of them. At the mention of how they brought Daryl with them and he looked to not be doing to well but still alive. You had looked up and just stared intently, "He ok?" With you gaining some abilities back it was harder to lie about what happened. You had yet to know of his capture and Glenn's death. It was only a matter of time before you found out.

Your mind seemed to be other wise fine. Most of the trouble was how it was trying to move your body. Walking was going to need to be learned again. When you got your right hand back writing and holding things as well. Nothing time couldn't fix. Maggie was the person to mostly look after you. You were a welcome distraction from her mind.

Later that day was when you said something that shook her. To see your mind healing and remember. You were just staring out the window while the sun started to set.

"I was a mercy kill."

You went to sleep shortly after. It was probably time to tell you the truth. Before you could think of all the worsts before hand.

Your POV

Being woken up by Jesus pulling you out of bed with haste and to carry you and hide you under the trailer was not what you were expecting. He was saying 'their here' and 'need to stay here and be silent.' You were laying under the trailer in dirt. It was finally catching up to what had happen just then. You didn't know all the things you probably should but you knew it would come naturally. While you lay there waiting for Jesus to tell you it was safe you remember that a few days ago you thought he was the literally Jesus for a second longer then you would like to admit.

You saw men taking things all around you. These were the asshole who did this to you. You remember when you woke up in the back of the truck. Two bodies beside you. You knew one was Abraham but didn't have the guts to ask who the other was. You just couldn't handle it at the moment. Others thought that to if they didn't say anything about it.

You were starting to get cold. But you saw that the men were leaving now. When the men were gone you don't think you could get out of there by yourself if you tried. When a group of people were quickly making your way over to you, you sighed ready to get up out the dirt. It was Maggie's voice you first heard. She sounded like she was panicking, "Did you hide her? Where is she?" She sounded to be directing this to Jesus. Then you heard a voice that surprised you, "What? Hide who?" It was Rosita. They got closer to you before Jesus spoke and lent down to were he put you. "She's ok, I put her here."

Jesus start to pull you out revealing who you were to Rosita. You just popped out being dragged by under your arms. "Hi" She gasped and lent down to help pick you up off the floor. "Your still alive..." she looked about ready to cry. You smiled, "Damn r-right I am." You would have had more trouble standing if Jesus wasn't helping but also leaning into Rosita while hugging you helped. It was Sasha who came to help you back to your bed while the others talked some more.

It was later that evening eating dinner when everybody was in Jesus's trailer. Everyone was talking while you stared at your left hand trying to move it to the best of your ability. Your body felt like it had latency that's why is was so hard to do anything. You and Maggie were now on your own with them taken Dr. Carson. You sighed and looked around you decided it was time. You needed to know.

"What happened that day..."

It went quiet before all eyes went to you. It was Maggie who first tried to start but Rosita cut in. "What do you remember." You bit your lip and look off into the distance. "Seeing what happened to Abraham, I was struggling to breath... I remember the feeling of the bat. I didn't pass out as soon as it hit me. I froze. Played dead even." You paused before sucking in a breath, your voice was still slow and looked to take a lot of focus to do, because it did.

"I woke up next to two bodies..."

Now is when Maggie spoke, "Daryl had punched Negan after he hit you." You sucked in a breath and held it. "He tried to kill you unprovoked, I don't blame Daryl." She looked into your eyes. "Negan killed Glenn." The air in your lungs released and a shaky hand came to cover your mouth, tears filling your eyes. The room was silent for a moment before she spoke again. "Daryl punched him and distracted him from you. Negan would have kept swinging at you." You closed your eyes to soak in the information. You were alive at Glenn's expense. "There's more." You opened your eyes to look at her.

"They took Daryl as there prisoner."

Part 3

Feedback welcomed and requests open!

Reunions coming next part :)

Also little disclaimer I’m really dyslexic so sorry with grammar or spelling that is messed up!

[varpusvaras]

They don't sleep during the first night.

They have turns resting. General Kenobi stays up first, after Fox has managed to get Leia to sleep. Fox lays down next to Leia on the one bed in the small house and he closes his eyes.

He doses off, free of nightmares for the first time since leaving. Maybe it's because of the presence of a Jedi, Fox doesn't know. He's thankful for it anyway.

Then it's his turn, and General Kenobi sits on the floor next to the bed and closes his eyes, and he stays very still until the suns start to rise.

Then Leia wakes up, and Fox feeds her after General Kenobi has made them breakfast, and then they wait.

No one comes.

Fox plays with Leia. Feeds her again. Puts her down for a nap. He checks his communicator. It's silent.

Leia wakes up. Fox plays with her while General Kenobi makes then dinner. Fox feeds her and forces his own meal down. He cannot afford not to eat, no matter how tight his insides feel and how little appetite he has.

Fox puts Leia to bed. She is also calmer here than she had been in the ship. That makes Fox suspect even more that General Kenobi has something to do with it.

Fox doesn't ask.

Leia falls asleep, and Fox sits there, at the edge of the bed, and stares at the window.

The desert has cooled down by now, but it still feels like the heat is lingering inside. An invisible, uncomfortable force, pressing down on Fox's skin, and he cannot escape it anywhere.

The desert around them is quiet. Leia sleeps peacefully next to him.

Fox is just waiting for the door to be shot down and for the Empire to come flooding in like a rush of red, hot blood.

General Kenobi breaks the silence first.

"I noticed the glow last night", he says, and points at his neck when Fox turns to look at him.

"Yes", Fox says. "It's difficult to conceal, even with extensive bacta treatments, since it is so close to skin and bone."

General Kenobi hums quietly.

"Is that how you survived?" He asks then.

Fox thinks briefly of the pain and the numbness, of his body being kept alive for him, of the crunch of his bones as they had been broken and then set again, and of the weightless hours spend submerged.

"Yes", he answers.

General Kenobi nods. They don't talk more of it.

"You didn't say how they found out", he says.

"I am not sure", Fox tells him. "But they knew where to come to look for her, so they must've found out that Bail was there when she died."

General Kenobi leans his jaw against his hand as he thinks.

"We don't know if they know about both of them, then", he says. "Or just about her."

"If they know about them both", Fox says, "and located only one child on Alderaan, they most likely think that the boy is with you."

General Kenobi nods again.

"So they would have to find me first", he murmurs. He looks out of the window, towards the silent dunes.

Fox looks at Leia.

"Do they live close by?" He asks.

"Relatively", General Kenobi answers. "Distances on Tatooine are long, even the shorter ones. But they could very quickly trace my location to theirs."

"It's too risky for us to be here, then", Fox says.

Leia is his priority. Fox would do anything for her. But he cannot put her brother in danger, either, to keep her safe. It's not fair.

Has anything ever been, though?

General Kenobi turns to look at him.

"Do you have anywhere else to go?" He asks. He sounds like he already knows the answer.

Fox shakes his head.

"Then, for the time being", General Kenobi says, "this is the safest place for us all."

He sounds gently confident, like he is trying to reassure Fox of the truth of his words.

Fox has no other options than to believe him right now.

Leia sniffles, and her face scrunches up slightly. Fox runs his finger over the bridge of her nose, until she calms back down.

General Kenobi is watching them when Fox turns back towards him.

"Go to sleep, Commander", he says. "I'll take the first watch."

"Just Fox, please", Fox says. He is not a Commander anymore, after all. Just Fox.

"Alright", General Kenobi says. "I'm just Ben, now."

Fox doesn't think the name really suits the General.

Perhaps he can sense Fox's thoughts, because he smiles slightly.

"Things change, don't they?" He says. "Now, please. Go to sleep, Fox."

Fox doesn't argue with him. He lays down next to Leia, and when she wriggles a bit, he strokes her short, soft hair gently, until she settles once again.

Then Fox closes his eyes and falls into a dreamless sleep.

[cheynovak]

Shadows and Songs 3

Azriel x Y/N female Illyrian

Summary: Azriel saved Y/N. Her wings where taken from her. She barely survived, the only thing she remembers during recovering is hearing a voice sing.

Warnings: 18+, spicy, MDNI!

English isn't my first language.

Please do not copy my work. Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome.

The door clicked softly open as I stepped into my apartment, Azriel still standing just outside. His hand fell from my arm reluctantly, and for a moment, it seemed like he might walk away. But something burned in his gaze—something hesitant, almost haunted—that made me pause.

"Come in, I'll give you something to clean..." I motioned to his nose while leading him to the kitchen.

"Sit" I said while handing him a wet cloth to clean up the dried blood from the broken nose I gave him. He took it but didn't say much, only kept looking around while I pretended to busy myself in the kitchen.

Before I could stop myself, I turned back, leaning against the counter my hand holding on to the wood and asked, “Why?”

His brows furrowed slightly. “Why what?”

“Why did you invite me tonight?” I clarified, folding my arms across my chest. “When your heart is clearly with Elain or Gwyn or... Mor? What was the point?”

Azriel’s shoulders tensed, his shadows swirling around his body like restless phantoms. He glanced down, his wings drooping ever so slightly. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost pained.

“I felt it too,” he admitted, his eyes fixed on the floor. "That night you stumbled in the room when I was playing piano. I felt the bond, and I might have... pulled you towards me."

For a moment, I thought that was all he’d say. But then he added, “I guess…” He trailed off, his voice catching.

“Yes?” I pressed, stepping closer till I stood on the other end of the table. “You guess what, Azriel?”

He swallowed hard, his hazel eyes flickering toward me briefly before darting away again. “I guess I’ve never been lucky with love,” he said at last, his tone raw.

“Not with my family, my siblings..." he looked at his scarred hands... "later, I thought I loved Mor… but it wasn’t the kind of love she could give back. And then Elain came along, and then Gwyn, and they…”

He ran a hand through his dark hair, sighing heavily. “They needed me. And I think… maybe I thought what I felt was…” He hesitated again, looking at everything but me.

“You know,” he finished lamely, his voice barely audible.

I did know. I did understand.

Azriel’s gaze finally found mine, his shadows stilling as though waiting for my judgment. “I thought,” he continued, his voice trembling just slightly, “I might have some fucked-up mental issues, like... reversed terror bonding or something. I always fall for the damsel in distress. And then I felt it again. With you...”

He didn’t need to say the rest.

“You thought I was another one of your... damsels?” I said, filling in the blank for him, my voice softer than I intended.

Azriel winced slightly but nodded, the raw vulnerability in his expression unraveling something deep inside me. "And I thought you wouldn't, couldn't love a male that looked like the ones who... took from you."

My wings, he meant my ability to fly.

Without thinking, I walked around the kitchen table towards him, my hand lifted, my fingers brushing through his hair in a soothing gesture. He closed his eyes briefly at the touch, then stood up, his body radiating warmth as though drawn by an invisible force.

"I'm not some weak female who needs saving Az... I can fight." He snorts, "Yeah, I felt that." putting the cloth over his nose.

The pull in my chest intensified, subtle yet insistent, as if something was guiding us closer. And again… and again…

Each time, the space between us lessened.

I let out a softy breath, slowly, unable to help myself, and glanced down at the floor. But Azriel’s hand rose, his fingers gentle yet firm as they tilted my chin back up.

When I met his gaze, the look in his eyes made my breath hitch.

He smiled—barely, just a small curve of his lips—but it was enough to make my heart stutter. Shadows still danced around him, softening as if reflecting his own nervous energy.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice deep and low. “For kissing you tonight, without... your consent.”

My heart softened at the genuine remorse in his tone.

“That’s okay,” I whispered, my voice nearly trembling under the weight of anticipation hanging between us. "I'm sorry for your nose."

A bright soft smile appeared on his lips "I deserved that."

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was thick—charged with something electric. We didn’t need words; the air around us was heavy with everything unsaid.

The pull between us became magnetic. Neither of us moved fully, yet we were closing the distance inch by inch, as though fate itself was tugging us together.

Our lips hovered so close that I could feel his breath ghosting across mine. The anticipation, the almost painful ache, built with each passing second.

“Azriel…” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Yes?” he asked, his own voice tight with restraint.

I rose to my toes, trying to close the remaining space between us, but somehow he managed to maintain the same teasing distance. His control so maddening yet intoxicating.

My heart raced, my hands sliding up his chest instinctively. And I could feel him shiver.

“Kiss me,” I murmured, my voice a plea as my eyes searched his.

Azriel’s walls crumbled in an instant.

The moment the words left my mouth, his lips were on mine, crashing down with a heat that stole the very breath from me. His hands found my waist, pulling me flush against him as he deepened the kiss, all of the restraint shattering as he gave in.

It was tender and demanding all at once.

***

We stumbled through the door of my small bedroom. Lips and limps almost melting together. Azriel pushed me softly down on to the bed, giving me the best seat in the house for what happened next.

As Azriel removed his shirt, the soft glow of the room's dim light caught on his golden-brown skin, illuminating it like a canvas etched with power and history. My breath hitched, I stared, unable to look away.

His wings flared instinctively as he tossed it aside, a gesture so raw and commanding that it made my breath catch.

I’d seen his wings before—of course I had. But in this moment, under the muted light, with his shadows still drifting lazily through the room, they seemed larger, more majestic.

His chest, his shoulders were covered in intricate Illyrian tattoos. Swirling designs and sharp geometric lines traced the contours of his muscles, telling a story I desperately wished I could read.

My fingers twitched at my sides as though drawn to him, the urge to reach out and trace each design overpowering.

My mouth fell open slightly, words failing me entirely. “Azriel…” I whispered, barely able to get his name out.

“You’re staring,” Azriel said softly, the barest hint of a smirk pulling at his lips as he moved toward me. But his voice carried no arrogance, only quiet amusement.

“I… I wasn’t expecting…” I trailed off, my words failing as my eyes raked over him again, lingering on the sharp V of his hips before darting back up to his face.

“Wasn’t expecting what?” he asked, crawling closer, shadows pooling around us as they lazily followed his movements. His hazel eyes locked on mine, a teasing glint flickering within them.

My mouth went dry. “You’re… beautiful,” I whispered honestly, unable to mask the awe in my tone.

That teasing glint softened, replaced by something I couldn’t quite name as he reached for my hand, bringing it to his chest. My fingertips grazed the ink there, tracing the elegant curves of a design that swept over his chest.

I continued to trace the tattoos, his body, my hand moving slowly down to his ribs and over the hard plane of his abdomen, and then around to his back. I had no idea how much time passed as I absorbed every detail, but when my fingers brushed along the great wings folded neatly behind him, his breath hitched.

He tilted his head down so his forehead rested lightly against mine. Azriel let out a breathless chuckle, his lips brushing against my face. “You’ll be the death of me,” he muttered, his shadows curling around us like a protective cocoon.

His hazel eyes flicked to mine, and he smirked, the barest curve of his lips. But it wasn’t mocking—it was soft, even nervous, like he wasn’t used to being looked at this way.

“What?” he asked, his voice low and rumbling.

“Your wings… ” My voice faltered, and I swallowed, trying to regain my composure. “they are...huge... and beautiful."

The word hung in the air, a declaration that seemed to freeze him in place for a moment. His wings twitched slightly, as though unsure how to respond to the compliment.

But then he chuckled softly, a sound that was rich and warm, and shook his head. “I think you’re the first person who’s said that to my face... Who called me... beautiful, twice now.”

“You’re joking,” I replied, still unable to take my eyes off him.

Azriel lowered himself, his movements fluid and predatory, the shadows on his skin dancing in tandem with his every shift. He leaned closer over me, his hands braced on either side of my head, his face inches from mine.

“I’m not joking,” he murmured, his voice dipping even lower, sending a shiver through me. My fingers moved over his strong arms towards his hands. I feel the scars under my fingertips.

His eyes flickered towards our hands. "All I can see is my fair share of scars."

"Well then, it's a shame no one ever told you before." I whisper, "Because everyone talks about you, Azriel, and it's not about the scars." His eyes lock onto mine, confused. "You are magnificent, Az."

He dipped his head, brushing his lips against mine with a softness that made my chest ache. “After tonight, you’re the only one who'll ever see me like this.”

It was a whisper, a confession, and it stole whatever shred of restraint I had left.

“Please” I whispered back, my hand reaching up to trace the edge of one of his wings. A shudder ran through him, his shadows quivering as his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “I see all of you, Azriel. And I want... all of it.”

When his gaze snapped opened again, it burned with an intensity that made my whole body heat up. His lips found mine again, hungrier now, as if my words had shattered whatever control he had left.

And in that moment, surrounded by his shadows and wings, I felt like I was falling—not into darkness, but into him.

In one swift motion, I pushed Azriel back onto the bed, his muscular frame yielding to me as his hazel eyes widened in surprise. Straddling him, I felt the tension ripple through his body, his hands instinctively finding their place on my thighs as I leaned forward.

I reached behind me, fingers deftly working the zipper of my dress. The sound of it unfastening filled the room, louder somehow than it should have been, amplified by the charged silence between us.

Azriel’s gaze followed the movement, his widened eyes darkening as the fabric slid from my shoulders, baring more and more skin with each second. His sharp inhale was audible, his hands tightening on my thighs as if he was grounding himself.

“Y/N,” he rasped, his voice strained, almost as if he was torn between restraint and surrender.

The shadows around him quivered, like they couldn’t decide whether to shield me from his view or draw me even closer. His expression was a mixture of awe and hunger, his lips parting slightly as his tongue darted out to wet them.

“What’s wrong, Azriel?” I teased, my voice soft but laced with daring as my hips grind against him.

I let the dress fall completely, pooling at my waist.

A low, guttural sound rumbled from his chest, his hands moving to slide up my thighs, over my hips, claiming the newly exposed skin with reverence and barely restrained desire.

“You’re going to kill me,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving mine. His thumb brushed a soft line against my hipbone, sending shivers through me. “But what a way to go.”

When his fingers dipped ever so slightly beneath the fabric still clinging to my waist, a spark of something wild and untamed ignited in his eyes, and I knew the soft patience from before was about to disappear.

And I didn’t want patience—I wanted him. Raw. Unleashed. Entirely mine.

I grinned, mischief sparking in my eyes as I leaned closer to him, determined to push him past that iron control he always clung to so desperately. The fabric clinging to my waist slid down easily, pooling on the bed before I tossed it aside carelessly. Azriel’s eyes tracked every movement, his grip on the sheets tightening almost reflexively, his knuckles white with restraint.

I lowered myself between his legs, feeling the tension ripple through him as my hands began their teasing journey. I brushed over the bulge straining against the fabric of his pants, slow and deliberate, the friction light enough to drive him insane.

His wings flexed, the dark expanse shuddering as his breath hitched. “Y/N,” he warned, voice strained and rough, like a taut string about to snap.

But I ignored the warning, my fingers tracing along the edge of his waistband over his crotch, deliberately slow, feeling the hard heat beneath the fabric. My other hand pressed firmly on his thigh, holding him down even though I knew if he wanted to, he could have flipped us over in an instant.

“You’re holding back,” I murmured, my lips grazing just above the waistband as my hand applied more pressure. “Why?”

His shadows slithered closer to me, restless and turbulent, mirroring the storm in his hazel eyes as he looked down at me. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he swallowed hard, his lips parting like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“What’s wrong, Azriel?” I asked sweetly, my voice dripping with innocence as my fingers traced along the length of him, never giving him exactly what he wanted. “Don’t you want me?”

“Y/N,” he growled again, his hands moving to my shoulders, but instead of stopping me, he only gripped me tighter, like he needed the anchor to stop himself from completely losing control.

I leaned in further, pressing a kiss on top of the fabric of his pants, feeling his body tense beneath me. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, and for the first time, I saw the mask of his composure slipping.

“Let go, Azriel,” I whispered against the skin right above the waistband, a challenge and an invitation. My fingers hooked into his waistband, tugging just enough to hint at what was to come.

And when his hands shot out, tangling in my hair to tilt my head back so our eyes met, I knew I’d succeeded. The fire in his gaze was no longer banked—it burned bright and wild, a promise of what was about to happen.

“You have no idea what you’ve started,” he said, his voice low and deadly.

And before I could respond, he flipped us over in one fluid motion, pinning me beneath him, his lips crashing into mine as he finally unleashed everything he’d been holding back.

My stomach pressed into the softness of the bed, and I felt the heat of him behind me, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as his hands explored, featherlight at first, then more deliberate.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispered, his voice so low it was almost a growl. His breath fanned against my neck, making me shiver as his fingertips ghosted over my skin, stopping just short of where I wanted him most.

I tried to push back against him, to feel more of him, but he stilled me with a firm grip on my hips, his laugh quiet and rich with satisfaction. “Not yet,” he murmured, his tone dripping with promise.

His lips moved from my ear down the column of my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Each word he muttered against my skin was like a match, igniting every nerve in my body. “You’re so perfect. And yet so damn stubborn. Do you know how hard it’s been to stay away from you ever since you pulled that little trick at the piano?”

His hand slid between my thighs, and I couldn’t bite back the gasp that escaped my lips as soon as his fingers found core.

Azriel chuckled, the sound dark and delicious. “There it is,” he murmured, as though savoring every little reaction. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.”

And then he kissed along my spine, taking his time, as if memorizing every inch of me, until I was trembling beneath his touch, lost entirely in the way he claimed me so thoroughly.

Azriel stilled for a moment, his breath heavy against my shoulder. His shadows curled around us protectively, as if trying to shield this moment from the world outside. His lips brushed the side of my neck, soft and reverent, and then trailed lower.

Hearing the fabric of his pants move.

I felt him press into me slowly, and though there was a sharp sting, it was nothing compared to the overwhelming fullness and the sensation of him moving within me. My fingers curled into the sheets, clutching at them as I tried to steady myself against the wave of emotions and sensations crashing over me.

Azriel groaned in my ear, the sound vibrating through me and sending a shiver down my spine. “Gods… you’re so tight,” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint as his hands braced against my hips.

His lips continued their journey, trailing lower, moving carefully over the curve of my shoulder blade until they met the edge of the scars on my back. He hesitated for just a second before pressing the softest kiss to the jagged skin.

The sensation sent a jolt through me, a gasp spilling from my lips as I arched beneath him. For a moment, I could almost feel the ghost of my wings, as if they had returned, stretching wide and strong in that intimate contact.

I squirmed involuntarily, my hands clenching harder at the sheets.

Azriel froze, his body taut with tension. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice strained, laced with concern. His lips hovered near my ear as his fingers stilled on my hips. “Did I... hurt you?”

“No,” I managed, my voice breaking slightly as I shook my head. “No, please. Please, Azriel. Don’t stop. Do it again.”

For a heartbeat, he didn’t move, his body trembling slightly, as though fighting against something within himself. Then his lips found the scars again, trailing over them in deliberate, languid kisses, each one more tender than the last.

I felt myself tremble beneath him, my breath hitching at the overwhelming sensation. There was something sacred in the way he touched me, as if he were healing the broken pieces of me. As if the ghost of my wings was still there.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered between kisses, his voice thick with emotion. “Everything about you… gods, Y/N, you undo me.”

And then he began to move, his pace deliberate and slow at first, his lips never leaving my back as he worshiped every inch of me. The combination of his body and his reverence made me feel cherished in a way I hadn’t thought possible, each moment deeper than the last.

Azriel’s movements stilled for the briefest of moments as the sound of my moan filled the air, raw and unrestrained. His shadows rippled chaotically around us, reacting to the way I arched into him, to the soft cries escaping my lips.

The tip of his tongue found one of the scars again, tracing the jagged line with a precision that had me trembling. I swore I could feel it, a phantom sensation sparking to life, as if my wings had never been lost. The intensity sent another moan spilling from my lips, this one even louder.

That sound was his breaking point.

Azriel’s groan reverberated through the room, guttural and deep, as his grip on my hips tightened. Gone was the soft, careful control he had shown earlier. In its place was an Azriel unbound, primal and completely consumed.

His hips moved against mine with a new fervor, each thrust harder and deeper, igniting something wild within me. I clung to the sheets beneath me, my fingers twisting into the fabric as waves of sensation coursed through me.

“You like that,” he growled, his voice dark and rough in my ear, more of a statement than a question. “You love when I lose control, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I gasped, my response immediate and unfiltered as my body arched toward him, seeking more, needing more. “Azriel… don’t stop. Please.”

His hand slid up my side, his fingertips leaving trails of fire on my skin before they wrapped firmly around my waist. His other hand gripped the back of my neck, tilting my head just enough so that his lips could find the sensitive spot beneath my ear.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured against my skin, though his voice was hoarse, tinged with that barely contained edge of desperation. “Every damn part of you, Y/N.”

His thrusts deepened, the pace relentless, his shadows wrapping around my wrists, my thighs, as though even they couldn’t resist the need to hold me closer.

And when his teeth grazed over the shell of my ear and his voice dipped even lower, whispering filthy promises of how he’d make me feel like this every day from now on, I surrendered completely, losing myself in the wild, consuming force that was Azriel.

***

The first thing I noticed when I woke in the middle of the night was the warmth. Azriel’s arm was still draped over me, his fingers tracing slow patterns on my shoulder and down my back. The other hand rested lazily on my waist, his grip loose but protective. I could hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my cheek, soothing in its rhythm.

When I shifted slightly to look up at him, his hazel eyes met mine, soft and unguarded in the moonlight. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured, his voice still thick and honey deep. "I'll be here in the morning."

I didn't want to listen, to let myself drift off again with him, instead I tried to stayed awake, savoring the moment. His fingers continued their absentminded strokes along my spine, and before long, exhaustion claimed me once more.

When I woke again, the other side of the bed was empty, the sheets cool to the touch.

Wrapping the blanket around me, I padded into the kitchen, where I found Azriel standing over a pan, the soft sound of eggs sizzling filling the air. His wings, now relaxed and folded against his back, shifted slightly when he turned and noticed me.

“I don’t know much about cooking,” he admitted, his lips quirking into a self-deprecating smile. “But I think I can manage a basic breakfast.”

I chuckled, leaning against the doorway, still holding the blanket around me. “Isn’t it supposed to be me making you food?” I teased, tilting my head. “You know… to accept the bond officially?”

Azriel’s eyes softened as he set down the spatula, turning his full attention to me. He crossed the room in a few strides, his shadows curling lazily around his feet as if mirroring his relaxed mood.

“I like to think I’m a bit more progressive than following old traditions,” he replied, a teasing lilt in his voice. His hands found my hips as he leaned down, brushing a featherlight kiss against my lips.

His smile turned more serious, the teasing melting into something deeper. “So, how about I make you breakfast today?” he murmured, his lips ghosting against mine. “Because I’d rather show you how sorry I am for ignoring this, and to show much you mean to me.”

He kissed me again, firmer this time, lingering just long enough to leave my heart racing. When he finally pulled back, his lips brushed the corner of my mouth.

“Mate,” he whispered softly, the word settling between us like a promise.

And with that, he went back to the stove, leaving me rooted in place, my heart full and the smell of breakfast filling the room combined with the soft humming of his voice...

Humming the one song he sang every night since he had found me. But all I could think of was how good that word sounded coming from his lips...

Mate

--

Taglist:

@mich0731 @winchesterwild78 @paintedbyshadows @lilah-asteria @nancymcl @hobby27 @kindollss @shadysoulangel @tele86

[yuki2sksksk]

[ Trollhunter Guardian (Y/n) ]

Centuries ago

" There's a saying somewhere, to be careful when making deals with witches. " Angor Rot twirled the blade in his hands, sheathing them with a swift motion. " Lest one's fate be doomed. "

You raised your eyebrows but said nothing. The bodies of fallen knights around the two of you went ignored.

Angor continued. " You need something. " His firm, but not unkind tone indicated he was doing his role as the warrior of his village trolls, a protector he was.

His eyes trailed over to the mountain of sacks slumping over the roots of a tree behind you, the mixed scent of animal blood and greens could be detected easily with his enhanced scent. You shifted on your spot, tightening your grip on your magical staff.

" I bring animal coats that can be used for clothing material. " You offered, voice low. " Various herbs that can work on trolls too. You may find usefulness in my magical ability as well. "

Angor Rot turned his eyes back on you. Half a year since he last saw you, but the sharp and yet gentle gaze in your eyes still stirred something in him. He couldn't remember if he had ever seen you falter. Not now, even if you were just surrounded by men brandishing their weapons on you. You didn't falter at the slightest as you pierced their hearts with beams of magic, rendering them to a pile of corpses to be taken by the forest sooner or later.

He didn't need to ask what happened; not when the rims of your clothing were smeared with pinches of black, dusty ashes, and the loosely bandaged hands of yours that had charcoal like smell. Not when he recognized the kingdom symbols on the knights' armours, worn so proudly as they rode down to villages in search of their targets.

Certainly not when he knew of the fate that had befallen witches and magic involved creatures alike nowadays.

He walked over to you. " I'll put in good words for you with the elders. Lucky you, I have a room to spare. "

His steps paused at seeing the wave of relief washing over you so clearly. You exhaled a large breath, your knee buckling slightly and you ducked down your head.

" I didn't know where to go. I apologize for the trouble -- "

" Don't, " he said, kneeling down, " apologize for surviving. You did well. "

Angor Rot wouldn't mind if you cried, but the smile appearing on your face as you looked up at him rose a single thought that flickered in him even if it was just for a second; that he would do anything for you.

[luveline]

we've seen bodyguard!james being soft and sweet on r, but can we possibly get more of r being soft and sweet on him? <<<<3 like she cleans and patches him up after some sort of scuffle or close call? tysm! but no pressure if you don't want to! (p.s. would that be where they'd have their first official kiss, you think? lol)

thank you so much for your request! bodyguard james forever | fem!reader ♥︎ 1.6k

James' hands shake after events. Adrenaline, no matter how many times he's defended you, will run its course. 

"Are you okay?" you ask him worriedly. 

He presses a hand, trembling still, to his forehead. A cruel looking cut tugs with the movement, scabbed over and black-crimson. 

"Fine," he says, following up with a low groan. 

His knuckles are split from an unfortunate sucker punch that had, undoubtedly, protected you from a similar facial injury. 

"You gonna go clean up?" 

He sits up. "Yeah, sorry. Just waiting for my hands…" 

You put your hands on each of his shoulders and push him back gently into your settee. "I wasn't trying to get rid of you. I don't want you to get an infection." 

His shoulders relax ever so slightly. 

"Hey," you say, "I could clean you up. If you want me to." 

"No, you couldn't. It's a mess, I don't think your pristine bathroom would survive it." 

His eyes crease with his smile. It quickly fades, an injury strained. You offer your hand to him, waiting in a tentative silence until he takes it. His fingers move to your wrist and you take his, pulling him up off of your settee with a happy sigh. 

"I'm a great nurse," you promise. "You'll be brand new by tonight." 

He lets you take him into the bathroom, a generosity to pretend you're strong enough to force him, your link tugging between you with every step. He sits on the lowered toilet seat lid and his hand forgets to let you go as you walk away. 

"I need the first aid kit," you say. 

He clears his throat, dropping your wrist. You think about it too much, the pleasure of his naturally wanting to hold onto you a blooming light you suspect radiates from your appled cheeks. You tamp down your smile and get back to business, retrieving your immaculate first aid kit from the cupboard under the sink and popping it open next to the sink. It's a huge kit, James instated, with silver sealed bandages, sterile gauze and wraps, tiny scissors and huge fabric shears, everything you could ever need to perform minor surgery. 

"Face or hands first?" you ask unsurely.

"Face is easier. It just needs disinfectant, and a butterfly stitch." 

He sees your eyes widen and laughs, though his laugh makes him wince. "Butterfly bandage, angel. It's not a real stitch. You've seen them, they're those grey plastic strips." 

You try to laugh your embarrassment away as you wash your hands. "Right, I know." 

First, you wipe the blood away from his face with a warm towel. He's gracious, closing his eyes as you lean in toward him. You're conscious that he can smell you, and you wonder if you smell good. You probably smell like sweat from all the panic, and that makes you cringe. 

"Sorry if I smell bad," you mumble. 

He opens one eye to squint at you. "You smell bad? Why would you smell bad?" His eyes close again as you wash over his mean cut. "You smell really nice. Like flowers." 

"It's the lilac and mandora perfume, in the fancy bottle." 

He hums. "Remind me again what mandora is?" 

"Citrus," you murmur, more focused on his skin than his question. 

His blood stains your face cloth, muslin slowly changing from a light cream to rusted orange. You set it next to the kit and rip open an alcohol wipe next. 

"I'm sorry," you say preemptively. "I know it'll sting. I'll be quick."  

He shakes his head. "Don't be. You couldn't hurt me if you tried." 

Why would he say that? You want to ask him. Jamie, why would you say that? It's nearly cruel, because what are you supposed to think? You bite your tongue and hold your breath as you clean the length of his wound, cringing at the feeling of the split in his skin. His tone had been so soft, a juxtaposition when compared to the ruggedness of his appearance. 

"Don't get blood on your sleeves," he says. 

"Does it matter? I'll never wear this dress again. God forbid I wear the same thing twice." 

"I wish they'd let you." 

"I'm sure you do," you mutter sarcastically. 

"I do. I'd want you to wear the one you had at your fathers Christmas Ball, the silver-gold one, with the tiny sleeves, that one was–" He hisses at your last tugging wipe. "It was beautiful. You looked beautiful." 

You stroke his forehead lightly, a stolen touch you shouldn't take. Your fingertips kiss his eyebrow, and then you force yourself away from him. 

You can't bring yourself to say thank you. Words feel impossible. 

His cut bleeds again, but it's a sluggish droplet that rivers down the slope of his temple a millimetre a second. He stays perfectly still as you pinch the skin ever so gently closed with one butterfly stitch. 

You wipe away the blood with another alcohol wipe. 

His hand is a more intricate affair. It's not shaking anymore, but it's clearly amazingly sore. You wipe off all the blood with a wipe, and apply a disinfectant cream over the worst of it. You run out of things to do. 

You're not eager to let go of his hand. 

You let your fingerpads slide over his uninjured skin until you're holding his wrist in two hands. You squeeze. There's a reverence to your touch. 

"Thank you for looking after me," you say. 

You both look up from your contiguity at the same time, comfortable enough with one another that your eyes lock and there's no awkwardness or tension. 

"They pay me," he says, "to do so. Please, don't say thanks." 

He's right, they do. They pay James to take care of your physical wellbeing. But all his compliments, all his sweet caring, that's for free. He might've taken a punch for you because he had to, but he'd hugged you in the car on the way home because he wanted to. He'd rubbed your arm, whispered, "Don't worry, sweetheart. It was a fluke, huh?" 

A fluke is the word he uses for stalker situations, people that have deluded themselves into thinking they know you, or that they need to talk to you. Now that you're in the public eye it happens more and more, and it sucks, but a fluke that grows aggressive after rejection will always be better than people who want to hurt you from the get go. Kidnappers, 'assassins', if they actually exist. 

"Can I give you a hug?" you ask him.

He lifts his chin. He has a pretty chin, a lovely jaw, and you know in your heart what you're going to do before you do it. 

"Course you can," he says cheerily. "Bring it in." 

Your arms fall over his shoulders, your wrists crossed. You rub your cheek against his mildly and breathe in his smell. The disinfectant stick tickles your nose, but his real smell, his rosemary hair oil, his lotion, has you breathing him in greedily. 

"You should change out of this uncomfortable thing," he says, big hands feeling huge as they smooth down the dip of your spine. Calluses over silk. 

"I will… It's not fun getting changed when you aren't on shift." You squeeze him tighter, wishing immediately that you could disappear. "That's not how it sounded in my head." 

"How did it sound in your head?" 

"I don't know. I like asking you what moisturiser to use, and… what nightgown to wear. I like having you there to help me out of my bracelets and necklaces." 

"An attendant can be sent up–" 

You groan wearily. "No, it's not like that, James." You pull back just enough to see his face. You're pouting, annoyed at yourself for messing it up. "This isn't as easy to say as I'd thought. I like having you with me because it's you. And it's an excuse." 

"For what?" he asks. 

Your heart hammers in your chest. You can feel it, your heart the hammer, your chest a thin piece of metal. It's thumping. You wouldn't be surprised if James could feel it too.

"Can I do something? Just this once. And if you hate it I'll never do it again. Please." 

He looks at you for long, crawling seconds. You worry he's seen straight into your head and he's unhappy with you, but he tips his head in toward yours, your foreheads a mere inch away, and says, "Alright. I trust you. Do what you want to do." 

You breathe in. You pull back your hands, leaning against the circle of his arms. Terrified, you lift your hands to his cheeks, force them trembling into the softness of his skin to hold him still. 

You lean in, and you kiss him. Shy of his lips, the slope of skin beneath them and to the left. You're too scared to go any higher. 

He makes a sound you've never heard from him before. It doesn't make it past his lips, but you're so close you hear it loud and clear. A catching breath. A smothered groan. 

You hide your face in his shoulder. 

"Princess?" he says quietly. 

"Yeah?" 

"I want you to do it again. Please."

"Maybe tomorrow," you murmur. 

He rubs your back. "Alright. I can't wait 'til tomorrow." 

[bibi-brains]

𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊

𝚃𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚟𝚛. ✦ 𝚉𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚞 𝚟𝚛. ✦ 𝙸𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝚟𝚛. ✦ 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚊 𝚟𝚛.

warnings: all parts are aged up to +20, thunder hashira zenitsu, x gn reader, fluff, brief mentions of blood and injuries.

wc.: ~ 700

Your mission had been a success, the demon had his head taken, the demon slayer corps would maintain the area under observation for a time, the village could sleep peacefully again, and you could return to the butterfly mansion. Only if your body had survived the rough attacks of the demon, you should be perfectly fine.

Aoi’s complaints in your ears about your usual careless behavior with yourself to put others first ringed in your ears as she cared your gashes, and once she finished you felt a little sad since she was right and now you have your body nearly covered in bandages and bruises, therefore in need of watchfulness from the helpers at butterfly mansion.

Some days passed, and the fatigue began to fade to a nice health feeling on your body. After eating and switching the bandages you were ready to rest and get some sleep since the salve was calming not only your bruises but your head, comforting and light, soft pillow under your head to lay with clean white sheets up on your body to keep your temperature, quiet sounds of leaves blowing within the wind broken by the heavy bang of the door and the shout calling out your name interrupted your rest.

The thunder hashira Zenitsu dashed to your bed. You could already see the tears falling from his eyes when he stepped into the room. 

“I’M SO SORRY, I SHOULD'VE COME HERE SOONER, BUT THE TRAINING WAS A MESS THESE DAY AND I ALSO MISSED YOUR ARRIVAL FROM THE MISSION. HAVE YOU DONE WELL? I KNOW YOU DID SINCE YOU’RE HERE NOW, BUT YOU ARE SO HURT I’M ANGRY JUST TO IMAGINE THAT BASTARD OF A DEMON HURTING YOU…” He yelled a paragraph of words in caps lock that made your head crammed like a glass overfilled with water, he only stopped after Aoi slapped his head enraged, yearning a squeak out of him, making you smile a little by the scene in front of you.

“Zenitsu I’m still recovering. Calm down, I'll be fine. I’m taking the best care here” you said dearly. Zenitsu massaged his head where it still hurts before raising his head to look at you, some tears still falling from his eyes, but this time you figured it was from the pain. You couldn’t be mad at him, all these years and he doesn’t change this outstanding way that you grew to adore, that he truly showed when he cared about the person, and you knew he couldn’t bear to have you hurt or lose you. Everytime you came back from a mission he came to see you and cried after seeing you hurt or even completely healthy, vowing to you that he will become stronger to protect you and the people who needed it. But how could the thunder hashira become stronger than his classification confirmed?

After calming down, Zenitsu wiped his tears and sat on the edge of the mattress by your side. “I was afraid that something happened to you. Kanao said you were hurt and needed some weeks to recover. I panicked a little, and that affected the training I was instructing.” You stopped his words and thoughts with a simple hand on his face, the blonde melted into your bandaged hand, tilting his head to kiss your hand, soft lips planting wet kisses down your arm on top of your bandages, carefully taking his time there in a quiet whisper for them to cure, passing to your shoulder and reaching your face. Your arm was freed and you laced on the back of his neck pulling him closer to you, Zenitsu kissed your lips softly, one time, two times, past this he got lost in the feeling of you sweet lips and desperately kissed you more. Passing his left arm on top of yours he held your face to deepen the kiss but ever so lightly fearing hurting you, his tongue poking out to ask for your permission to pass through before retracting as he shifted away from your lips. 

The blonde breathed deeply as if to maintain his posture, his nose brushed along yours, maintaining an eskimo kiss, opening your eyes to find his amber eyes hazed in love. 

“I’ll be stronger, I’ll never let anyone hurt you anymore.”

You just smiled at him. You could never change his mind.

[bleedingcoffee42]

The only thing I'm taking away from all of these new files is that the men of Easy company gossiped like a bunch of highschoolers.

And I love it.

THEY DID. And it doesn't help that Ambrose has an agenda for the interviews which is A)Talk shit about Sobel B)Tell me about Mr. Mysterious Ron Spears and I'll cut you off if you actually liked him C)Was Lewis Nixon always drunk? D) fangirl over Webster and try to get the guy he was interviewing to agree with him.

AND Then there was the reunion where some guys got a 13 chapter preview and others didn't. THEN the reunion when the book came out which is implied to be like a book club gone nuclear. And all the letters to Ambrose apologizing on behalf of their friends which means it got back to Ambrose somehow the boys were pissed.

AND MY FAVORITE BULLSHIT is the ye old screenshot of private conversations circa 1990s which was Ambrose photocopying everything and sending it to Winters and Winters immediately coming out of the unsuspected sender's mailbox with a folding chair to set them straight, with documentation. Dick sent Lip a nasty letter. Hit General Matheson with a frickin 'Maybe you're old and your memory is shit here is the map to refresh your memory' and the poor West Pointer from Fox company who tried to step in and say Henry Jones was super loved by his men when he died and he didn't remember the patrols going like that only to have Dick slap back. It's wild.

I don't know how these guys survived this book.

And Nix IS the smartest man ever for just Noping out of this bullshit. And Sparky is honestly super polite about it even though Dick goes into harassment territory to get him to talk to Ambrose/Show up for the reunion/get interviewed. I honestly think Ron's wife left the phone off the hook when they went to Montana because her husband already had major heart surgery and was talking he was on death's doorstep and talking to Dick more than likely got him riled up and had him popping blood pressure pills like TicTacs.

I do want to go back in time and fight Ambrose on Lipton's lawn. Chalk it up to an affront on my professionalism for how he conducts interviews. Plus how everyone tried to protect Compton, Ambrose even goes in saying 'I'm not sure how I'm going to write this' and then goes about it in the worst possible way so that his mailbox is filled with Letters of 'YOU CAN NOT PUT THIS IN PRINT'.

But up until this time, up until Ambrose stepped in, they were already all creating these different narratives of how things went down. 30 ft away in one foxhole dudes were probably gossiping.

Buck Taylor was the last one I read who sends Dick a letter and the gist of it it "So..I am not dead like the rumors say. I didn't die in a plane crash in the Pacific. I was working for the CIA. I have no idea where anyone got that?" NO IDEA EITHER man.

It's wild. I'm loving it.