#but yeah its about to get real wild real fast

[nuclearnyx]

literally my whole life is going to change in the next year

[trans-estinien]

i

what. lol.

[suempu]

Falls to floor your writing is so lovely Do you perhaps have any kabru x reader sfw/nsfw hcs…

thank you so much for the kind words. “lovely” 🥹 ahh you got me blushing anon lmfao

gn reader + on the receiving end !!!

<3

kabru would be the casual type of lover. he’s nothing but calm and suave with you, which is attractive.

he’s quite attentive of people and you’re no exception. although he really goes out of his way to be accommodating when it comes to you if you’re his lover.

mindful of your expressions and body language. once he sees a sign of you being uncomfortable, kabru will pull you away from the group and talk to you softly.

i feel like he’d be good at taking care of his partner, though he’s not the best, he tries.

kabru’s good at talking you down, grounding you into reality whenever you’re on the verge of a breakdown. let’s say you feel very unstable, he’ll whisper in the most softest tone you’ll ever hear while he holds your hand. he asks permission to touch you beforehand of course.

“here, you can feel my fingers, right?”

“mm.”

“my palm, feel it. you’re here with me,”

“i’m here…”

“good job. can i ask what happened?”

he’s good at radiating a calm atmosphere when you need it and he’s always ready to help you.

praises and compliments come out of his mouth like a piece of cake, he’s not shy when it comes to showering you with love. the whole party is grossed out by him whenever you’re around. it’s like when the parents are being all lovey-dovey and the children just groan out an ‘eww’ (its mainly mickbell complaining tho lmao)

i believe he’s had one or two intimate relationships before you, but none of them has ever lasted long enough as yours. so he’s had some experience before you.

he’s certainly a tease. have you seen that face? that face screams unfairness and mischief (in bed)

kabru loves your whining whenever he purposely denies you release. one moment his fingers will go fast and wild on your most sensitive spots, and the next he goes painstakingly slow.

“aww, but if i let you cum this early, then what about me?”

he’s a cheeky bastard. the real reason why he draws out your orgasms is because he believes that edging you will result to a much pleasurable and hard orgasm for later (he’s right.)

you will get overstimulated with this man, no question about it. he strives to make you cum at least 5-6 times in one session, which is overkill but he really loves the way your eyes glaze over.

kabru loves your tears and whining, though it kind of makes him guilty so he makes sure to absolutely spoil you after.

his hips are bad for your body. with the way he thrusts into you so precisely. its like he already knows which spot to hit, he rolls into you as he teases and whispers in your ear. he’s actually fucking crazy.

“right here? oh yeah, here?”

he moans in time with his thrusts. he loves watching your face, how your half lidded eyes look so lost yet so present. missionary is definitely his favorite position. loves being all up on your face, he kisses your cheeks, forehead, lips, and jaw while he’s inside you.

nights with him are long and wild, but he can go slow and be more gentler if you asked him to. he lives for your reactions, he thinks its really sweet how you trust him so much with your body.

kabru makes up for all his teasing with aftercare. he pants as he pulls you close, hands on your back and caressing you gently.

“you okay? did i break you?”

“shut up.” you breath out hoarsely.

he chuckles, “i love you too.”

he gives you a massage after that, quietly kissing your hips and stomach as his fingers rub at your skin. whispers small apologies while his hands work on your body. he always checks in on you whenever he hears a whine or groan when he touches a sore spot.

while he is content with just sleeping and cuddling in your own sweat, he’ll take you to the bathroom if you want to be cleaned.

solid lover, tries his best, just don’t ever have sex in his own bedroom (its messy)

[cevansbrat0007]

Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”. 

Well, that couldn’t be right. 

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day. 

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail. 

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store. 

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!” 

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last. 

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read. 

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you. 

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh. 

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him. 

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right? 

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school. 

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else. 

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?” 

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”  

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.” 

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye. 

“As much as I can be.” 

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked. 

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.” 

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs. 

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.    

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.   

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten  seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.” 

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.” 

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back. 

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal. 

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts. 

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy. 

But not now. 

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.  

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle. 

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them. 

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going. 

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later: 

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck. 

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END 

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[chrolloluvr]

May I request Mammon angst HCs please? Like the reader is possibly breaking up with him or something? (i love your HCs for mammon<3)

Mammon Breaking Up Hcs

note: Thank you i'm so glad you like them pookie!! also yes i love this idea ❤️❤️

warnings: Cursing, creepy behavior, unbalanced power dynamic, killing. Not proofread!

Female!Reader, (no specific gender, so can be GenderNeutral!Reader)

It would be best to tell him over text, since he is guaranteed to throw a toddler like temper tantrum if you ever told him in person.

So you text him over text, what happens? He 100% thinks you're joking at first. He thinks you aren't being serious at all, and that wow babe, you might even be a bigger clown than I am.

But when he realized that you were being serious, he gets angry. How dare you? Why would you ever break up with him? He is the king of greed, he has trillions of dollars in the bank, so why don't you want to stay by his side? Did he do something? Did he hurt you? What happened? Baby, we can sort this out-

In a way, still doesn't think you are being serious, which is what he tries to tell himself. So he will let you leave, and will act like he doesn't need you.

Another author said this already, but he will 100% go through the stages of grief, (he will never go through acceptance, because in his mind, you will always come crawling back to him.)

He will be in denial for a very long time. Let's say you move out, and even start residing in another ring. He will send you texts. All. The. Time.

Your phone will mods likely have 103 Missed Calls, 986 Messages, and 37 Voicemails. He is crazy, and especially crazy for you. So when you don't respond to him, he does not understand why. He likes to think that you were just going on vacation for a while. He genuinely thinks you two are still together.

Anger- Once he sees that you have indeed moved on, and that he is no longer living in fantasy land, he gets extremely angry. His general mood spikes, he lashes out (wayyy more than he used to), and a-lot of his servants are scared to talk to him. Will absolutely keep bombarding you with texts every day. He will even get his servants to start texting you on his 100's of extra HellPhones.

Mamm 🕸️💚 11:34

Come hone ygu little cungt

Mamm 🕸️💚 11:35

ANSWERF ME.

Mamm 🕸️💚 11:35

Do ygu knoe how easily i can replaece yu

Mamm🕸️💚 11:36

Fine go shack uo with sorm dirty hoboes you little slut

Mamm 🕸️💚 11:36

I dont kneed u and youir mediocar holes

So yeah... thats just one example. He has so many spelling mistakes because he is typing so fast, and practically brekaing his phone from how angry he is.

But in reality he does need you. You are. the one thing that keeps him running. However he will never, over his dead body, ever admit that.

Bargaining- He will send things to your... new home... in gift baskets. Fizzarolli plushies, flowers, tickets to his live events, expensive jewelry, the list goes on. It gets to a point where (if you live in an apartment complex) People start stealing his gifts and start putting them up online to sell. (And they go for 10s of thousands of dollars.)

He send these to you so that you can hopefully come crawling back into his life, so that he can control you again.

At this point, you have most likely made it public about your distance between you and the sin. Your relationship was extremely public, and known by everybody.

He refuses to speak publicly, because he wants people to think he still controls you. And when i say your relationship was big, it was definitely the most talked about relationship in all of Hell. People will go nuts about you two breaking up. Another author said this as well, but people will go crazy with the comments.

"L Mammon fumbled so bad its actually wild."

"Bros got plenty other options 💀"

"Why tf would she/they break up w/ HIM???🤰"

"Now that hes single I call dibs 🙌"

You try your best to ignore the comments, but eventually you cant, its not just online, but in real life you feel cornered as well. You might even start to reconsider your departure with him. Which is exactly where he wants you.

Depression- He spirals into somewhat of an insecure man. He strives to be better. He ups his game for his big pageants, soon to be bigger, just to impress you.

He maaaay or may not have killed people in your favor. This is known, obviously, but his obsession along with his newfound insecurity has left him no choice but to show that if you dont want to come home, he will show you its safer than anywhere else.

Overall, if you do end up coming back to him, he is overjoyed with happiness, and will take extra precautions to ensure you wont ever walk out on him and his warm embrace again.

However if you end up never wanting anything to do with him, he will be devastated, but he will force himself to get over it. He is Mammon, he truly does not need you. In reality, you were somebody he felt an unexplainable feeling to protect. He absolutely can live without you, but for some reason, he feels like he cant. If somebody were to ever bring you up, he would lash out, and make his anger everybody's problem. He may get over you after a while, but he will never fully accept the fact that you left him.

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

I don’t know how long we’re wrapped in each other’s arms before we’re forced apart as an overzealous dancer bumps into us, causing us to stumble sideways.

I barely regain my balance before Ash grabs my hand and pulls me away, leading me through the maze of people. They’re nothing but a blur as we wind our way off the dance floor where there’s finally some open space to breathe. I think he’s going to stop once we get there, but he continues forward. The only thing ahead of us now is a hallway with the bathrooms on the right and stairs on the left. Just as I’m about to ask him where he’s taking us, he stops short and slides into a dark corner.

As he backs himself against the wall, pulling me into him, I finally understand. “Is this okay?” He asks.

I lean in so fast that I practically breathe the answer into his mouth, “Yeah,” and before I know it, we’re making out again. But this time is far more intense, our kisses deeper, our breathing ragged, our hands grabbing fistfuls of hair and clothing and clawing at skin as though our desire for each other has grown into some kind of wild animal. Finally free from its cage, there’s no going back now.

I pin him against the wall and press my thigh between his legs, and he makes a sound that I feel more than hear with his mouth on my neck. And then I feel his hand move down the front of my jeans. I’m grateful for how loud the club is when he finds what he’s looking for and an uncontrolled moan escapes my lips. He grips me and breathes into my ear, “Atlas.”

Fuck, there is nothing sexier than the way he says my name.

I can barely think, let alone speak. All I can manage is, “Hm?” and even that comes out as more of a whimper than a question.

“Let’s go somewhere.”

I put my hand up on the wall behind him to steady myself and somehow find it in me to ask, “Where?”

“Anywhere. My place, yours, I really don’t care, but if we stay here, we’re bound to get kicked out.” He moves his hand slowly over the bulge in my jeans and kisses my ear softly. The wet sound of his lips is amplified and sends a shiver down my spine. “Do you wanna leave with me?”

More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

I nod as I clear my throat and try to will my brain to start functioning again. “I, um, my apartment. It’s three blocks away.” Or maybe it’s six. I don’t know. All I know is, Dawn better not be home tonight.

“Perfect.” He kisses me and moves both hands to my waist, “Let me check in with Lex real quick and then we can go.” I step back to make room for him to squeeze by. He looks up at me with a smirk, biting his lip, and winks at me before saying, “I’ll be right back,” and walking away.

It’s been a while since he’s winked at me, but for the first time I don’t blush. I assume my blood is otherwise occupied and not available to flush my face. Speaking of which, I need to take a moment, so I lean against the wall and pull out my phone. I start typing out a text to Dawn asking if she’ll be home tonight, but then delete it before sending, realizing I’ll have to explain why I’m asking, and I’m not prepared to do that. So, I slide the phone back in my pocket and hope for the best.

I take a few deep breaths and wipe the sweat from my face, suddenly realizing how dehydrated I feel. As soon as I’m able, I walk over to the water station set up in the back of the club.

The relief of the cool liquid as it hits the back of my throat is instant, and I drink three full cups before Ash finds me. I hand him one as soon as he walks up.

“Thank you,” he says gratefully, and drinks it down quick. As he refills the cup he says, “Lex is good. They’re all staying at Blair’s tonight.”

I suddenly remember the promise I made to her when we first arrived, and I almost feel a little guilty. “Did you tell her we’re leaving together?”

“Yeah.”

“Was she okay with that?”

He shrugs, “Not really her decision, is it?”

“I suppose not. You wanna go?”

“Definitely.”

Prev // Next

[luffyvace]

How aizawa courts you/relationship headcanons

y’all seem to really like the crush headcanons i did so now i’m doing him when he actually tries to court you and when your actually together :)

this is still going to be canon aizawa btw

also still fem reader in mind

okay so now that aizawa is trying to court you, like in love and wants to date

he’d be forward about it

probably waits until your at his place or yours

then as your doing whatever he’ll ask

“y/n i have something important to tell you”

“yeah? what is it, it’s not bad is it?”

“no, i actually just wanted to know if you’d like to go out somewhere with me. a date.”

your reaction may vary from shock to a knowing smile

either way you accept politely (how could you reject such a fine man?)

so you both talk about the date and end up planning it out right then and there

you decided that weekend would work fine

so after that’s settled you talk about each other’s feelings, how and why they came to be

you figured out you fell first but he fell harder :)

so your first date would be out somewhere simple yet fun and with a little less people

so there’s this place called cat island in japan

yeah

its perfect

(i hope your a cat person)

it’s exactly what you think, there’s cats everywhere search it up

there’s more cats than people actually

its heaven for him

you guys have a fun field day with cats then head back to your house

chatting and looking at the pictures you took

and yeah!

again he’s straight forward with courting

so now we’re on relationship

you guys are definitely closer now

i’ll go through a normal day for y’all then relationship things

so

aizawa gets up early for his job

he’ll get ready and text you to see how your doing then go to work

if you work at ua with him and live together

he likely gets up first if not y’all are up at the same time

when he’s ready he’ll wake you up if you like to sleep in

and warm the car while he waits if it’s winter (yippie he’s freezing so you don’t have to)

y’all drive to work together

you can text him throughout work but he won’t reply unless it’s important or a genuinely good question

he won’t slack off the job (EVEN THO HE SLEEPS ON IT)

anyway

if you work with him he’ll text you on break if your not already in the staff room

or if you have separate jobs he’ll still text to check up on you

makes sure you eat something

is today stressful so far?

why? vent to him.

he truly cares about your physical and mental health

once you both get home from work he’ll run you a bath and cook dinner

he’s a average cook, can cook basic things

if y’all don’t live together he’s more likely to order take out though

not always junk food sometimes he’s just tired and orders a salad. he’s upset because he knows he can make it himself but he’s just so tired

so he appreciates if you turn the tables and treat him to a bath and hot meal (if y’all moved in together)

but if y’all got your own places sometimes if your both still energized you’ll come over to one another’s house

if y’all live together he falls asleep real fast

won’t mind if you snuggle next to him

except for when he gets hot

then he turns over 😭

sometimes he’ll try to stay up to have those late night convos with you but don’t get mad if he falls asleep, it’s by accident. y’all can always continue the next night :)

he won’t snuggle you btw

just because he naturally stays on his side of the bed

he ain’t a wild sleeper

he flips from side to side

its rare to catch him on his back for more than a few minutes

LUCKY YOU HE’S NOT A BLANKET HOGGER

if you are tho

he’ll get annoyed the first few times but he won’t say anything about it

after a few nights he just gets his own blanket

if your a wild sleeper this annoys him more than hogging the blanket

he’ll tell you, you keep kicking him and slapping him in his sleep and it wakes him up

yknow your boy likes some good sleep so he doesn’t stand for you wakin him up

suggests to get two beds

but you don’t like that idea

so he’ll probably end up putting pillows in between you or sleeping in his sleeping bag on the floor 😭

if y’all stay at different places tho

its rare for y’all to have a sleepover

he doesn’t see the point in having two different houses if you just want to sleep at his

would think about moving in together

but he won’t bring it to the table unless he see’s a opportunity or feels you’d feel comfortable/like that

if you do manage to convince him he’s not staying up and playing or smth he’s literally going to sleep

if your a wild sleeper he won’t do it again

otherwise you may be able to convince him like 2 or 3 more times

dont tell mic though if mic teases him he’ll never do it again

not to spite you but out of annoyance from yamada (mic)

he just won’t feel like it anymore

btw keep your room clean or be scolded

”clean your room y/n there’s no reason you should have clothes and clutter everywhere.”

“you don’t even need half of this stuff, just clean it.”

now to genuine relationship things

well for one i’m telling you he won’t call you pet names

just

“y/n”

”why should i call you ___ if your name is y/n”

doesn’t see the point in them

you may be able to convince him a few years into the relationship to call you “babe” or anything simple and sweet but that’s it

maybe a “n/n” occasionally

if YOU call HIM pet names tho

he wouldn’t mind :)

still doesn’t get it tho

just don’t make it anything too sappy

he’ll funny look you if you do

especially at work

or around mic and all might

would prefer if you stuck to the simple ones or a nickname tho

another thing

if your a hero, a reckless one at that, he’ll worry for you and scold you if you get injured

please don’t give this man a heart attack

”you need to be more rational”

if your already a rational person thank goodness

he’s glad he doesn’t have to babysit a whole class of students and you

random

but

if you like coffee or tea he’ll make you some before/when you get up

if you don’t live together he’ll bring you a cup if you both work at ua

if you work on weekends (idk how some people do it) he’ll bring you a cup on your lunch break

giving each other massages>>

he’s really good at it too

he’s a good person to vent to as well

especially about the stress of work because he felt that

he’ll take you on dates randomly even if y’all are in a relationship

not every week

but he’ll take the time out to spend it with you if he has some

he’s a traditional gentleman

and by that i mean buy you flowers and gifts

but not just “roses 🤓☝️“

he’ll actually take the time to learn your favorite flowers and buys you reals ones to take care of

if you don’t have a green thumb how else will you learn?

so he’ll buy them anyway

helps you take care of them though

he waters them and reminds you to if you live separately

he buys you little trinkets and gifts that BENEFIT you

not just something that’ll “collect dust” as he says

like if you tell him your vacuum breaks down every few months

he’ll RESEARCH one that doesn’t, is inexpensive and cleans well

and buy it for you :)

overall he’s a 10/10 boyfriend 100% green flag

ladies and gentlemen (and whoever’s in between)

get yourself an aizawa

enough said

have a good day/night

[d3pressed-caffiene-addict]

Hazbin Hotel Ep 5&6 Oh My God (Major Spoilers)

I am having so many thoughts, this is just a brain dump

-LUCIFER. He’s so pathetic I love him

-Jeremy Jordan you fucking legend. I’m a big fan of a lot of his work and was excited to see him in this but I was slightly unsure if he was the right casting since I expected Lucifer to be more of a high and mighty/snobby figure, but with the way they characterised him HE IS PERFECT.

-“TAKE THAT DEPRESSION”

-The Lucifer vs Alastor rivalry is beautiful

-“Ha ha, fuck you.”

-Father figure Alastor

-HIS EARS GO BACK LIKE A CAT WHEN HES ANGRY I CANT

-MIMZY’S ARRIVAL. I know most of us know the lore about her and Alastor being developed as a couple before it was scrapped but I really like how they are in the show

-Even if it’s just crumbs I’m so excited to be getting snippets of Alastor’s lore. It’s wild to keep going back and forth between “aw he actually cares for and protects his friends” and “oh my god he’s a fucking psycho”

-Speaking of that the scene with Husk holy shit. Poor man looked terrified

-The confirmation that Alastor’s also stuck working for someone, it has to be Lilith surely. I know some people will call it predictable because a lot of theories are coming true but personally I think it’s from good worldbuilding/foreshadowing

-ALASTOR IN FULL DEMON FORM JUST ANNIHILATING EVERYONE and then he just goes “Ah that was fun, now back to it”

-I kinda like the parallel between Al and Mimzy & Angel and Cherri where they invite their friends to join them if they want to, even if neither of them take it up initially maybe we’ll see them join the hotel in the future?

-BABY CHARLIE

-I really expected Lucifer to be a dickhead and a shitty dad, but he seems to be an overall better guy than most people in hell

-CHERRI BOMB ARRIVAL! And she’s Aussie now fuck yeah represent

-I still love her and Angel’s friendship even if she is a terrible influence. Everyone’s got that friend who’s solution to a bad day is just self-destruction but they mean well at least

-DARREN CHRIS TOO, THE MUSICAL THEATRE/BROADWAY ACTOR CASTING IS STACKED

-Emily is so sweet I love her

-The Molly cameo is so sweet, I was waiting for her to appear somewhere but lowkey forgot she was in heaven. Honestly though how did she get there when the rest of her and Angel’s family got condemned for what they did together? Maybe she left the mob or something idk I just hope we get to meet her properly at some point

-Heaven’s real fucked up? Yeah not shocked

-VAGGIE?? FALLEN ANGEL REVEAL?? AND SHE WAS AN EXTERMINATOR???? I know most of us called it but holy shit I didn’t expect it to be confirmed this soon

-Adam is such a dick but he’s so much fun

-I love that Charlie was gonna start her court presentation with definitions like a high school essay

-“Consent is a good name for a sex club” the gentleman Husk truthers gonna have fun with this one

-Pentious hitting on Cherri is hilarious and totally not the same level of subtlety I flirt with when I’m drunk

-Hearing more and more about how Val treats Angel is so sad especially with how casually he talks about it since it’s just another day for him

-Him parenting drunk Nifty is beautiful

-“You wanna play with the kitty?”

-Valentino is my #1 enemy

-Seeing Angel stand up to him to protect his friends is making me feel feelings. Like he knows that he’s gonna be treated even worse for it but I think he’s reaching his tipping point and shits gonna go down soon

-Also I know there’s a popular theory that he’s gonna die soon and a lot of the theories are coming true so I am scared. I kind of don’t think this one’ll happen though since he’s the fan favourite and its just too soon to take that much of a risk. Plus Vivsie’s admitted he’s the best written character and it’d be such a waste of all that development

-More sweet moments between him and Husk, they’ve gotten me so invested in this ship so fast

-The fact that most of heaven didn’t know about the extermination?? Wild

-Idk how I feel about the timeskip between Ep 4&5, they’re only a month away from the extermination now. Yes it’s making the stakes feel higher but I do wish we’d been able to see more of that time for the relationship development, all the characters seem much closer than before and we’ve only seen bits of how they got there

-I really wish they’d greenlit more than 8 episodes to pace things a little better but I’m glad we have season 2 confirmed

-That last minute ‘reveal Vaggie’s past to Charlie, boot them out of heaven and then cut to credits before she can react’ is gonna torture me until next week

-I don’t disagree with past criticism that Vivzie’s female characters can feel a bit underwritten but I think it’s getting better

-“We’re coming to the hotel first” plus all the theories that someone’s gonna die are fucking stressing me out man

Anyway hope you enjoy the brain dump, this show has once again consumed my thoughts

[marchswifey]

Tate Langdon’s NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He likes to give you a lot of cuddles and he likes to watch movies or play video games with you

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes your tits and your stomach and on himself he likes his hair, its style and color

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He will cum wherever he likes, the most he cum on your chest

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He secretly wants to try the role-playing game, the thought of seeing you dressed in a sexy doctor's onesie turns him on a lot

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is very experienced thanks to porn but he never had a real relationship before you (if we don’t consider Violet)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes you to ride him so he can see your boobs bouncing while you fuck him

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

If he’s feeling playful he makes a lot of jokes during the time.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it shaved for you but sometimes small blond tufts can be seen

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s romantic most of the times, asking if you’re feeling good or if you need him to slow down

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I feel like before you he did it a moderate amount but now that he’s with you he just shows up in your room when he’s feeling needy so you can help him

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He will literally do almost everything

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Everywhere in the house but he prefers your room since around the house there are the other ghosts who would probably watch you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Literally everything about you, especially if your wearing anything revealing

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won't do anything you don't want him to do

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Doesn't mind either, but likes giving to you more than receiving. He loves getting to see how good he makes you feel and he loves that the faces you make are only for him

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It goes pretty fast, not too hard though

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not fond of them, he likes to take his time and go multiple rounds. If you both are desperate he wont hold back, but it isnt a must for him

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is open to try things and take risks when it comes to your sex life

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Since he’s dead he can go on until you can’t take it anymore

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Although he enjoys pleasing you with what he has, he can't deny wanting to see you trembling, panting, and crying while he abuses your body with toys

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases a lot like yeaaaa

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He tries to be quiet, but his grunts come out and they’re loud

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would play Nirvana on the radio while you’re having sex

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I'd say he's average size 5 to 6 inches but he is thick so yeah

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fault high once the two of you got close. He has a lot of pent up feelings to let out, so he's got about a 8.5/10

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Usually he doesn’t fall asleep since he’s a ghost, he lays on your stomach while you play with his hair, that's how you two cuddle

[majorproblems77]

ITS LU UPDATE TIME!!!

AND IT IS ALL ABOUT SKY AND IM SO EXCITED :DDDDD

You know what that means! It means a long post by me! :D

Cant wait to be excited about my blorbo for like 30 minutes, so sit get some popcorn and like some earplugs cause i will try to contain my screaming but I've been waiting for more Sky stuff and I'm so excited!!!!

For point, and because I keep forgetting, all the panels I'll be talking about belong to JoJo and @linkeduniverse

Let's do this!

Alright lets get this out of the way first, I love some parallels right, So as per usual, if I need a panel from anything prior I'll let you know where it's from!

So what do you think he asked him.

Hey sir! Have you seen a guy with a big flag on his back going way to fast come through there?

Man is just like, oh yeah he went that way past the forge that your other weird fellows were at earlier.

He run, Then he hero stop. Power pose activated, target acquired. Then he run some more

Run my blorbo run!

Genuinely interested in what exactly this is, Is it a map? Is it a list of places? Is it a paper with time shift shenanigans in it?

I'm not versed in the postman, Is this normal, or did he do this cause he heard Sky and wanted him to think he was waiting?

This face has be dead. (/pos) I love him so much my dear blorbo its been too long since we saw you last.

Putting this together for 1 reason

Postman is a dick, Sky was so close, That can't be more than 10 or so metres at most. Poor man ran across Town out of town to catch up to you for you to go sprinting off into the woods, and my man is full on Olympic sprinting to deliver this mail geesus.

Also, the compulsory return of the king 🧍, Sky is the king of this pose and will not be beaten. Although Legend comes pretty close.

God the expressions in this update are top tier, Sky is just so expressive. Right now, Man is thinking why he does this to himself.

I'm fucking cackling, this art is amazing and Jojo's sister did an amazing job. Like I feel like I can hear this picture with that teasing tone that my siblings would use on me when we were younger. God I love it.

So even though Sky is looking towards Legend here, so I'm totally under the impression that Legend said Wahhhh, and Hyrule said I cant run. As Hyrule was with wars When they got split up initally. Poor Sky, man has become the butt of jokes. Im glad Four is giving them a look, He doesn't look impressed. Its okay Sky, you've got a friend in Four behind you. :D

War's is the real MVP of this arc in my opinion, Man has been in charge of the ragtag chain while Time has been out of action looking over Twilight. He's at the end of his tether.

Part of me wonders if this is going to impact his fighting going forward? Maybe he'll slip up because he's so stressed. He knows not all of them are knighted. These heroes he is with are NOT soldiers and he can't treat them as such.

And this sentence. Don't Interrupt! sounds like he is scolding rowdy recruits, rather than fellow heroes.

Which if you think about it, Sky is giving essentially a scouting report here, He scouted ahead and has returned to speak about his findings. War's is a captain, in his era he's a commanding officer. He's taken reports of this kind before.

Having a panel with Time, Wild and Twilight in Gives me more life than i think i give it credit for. (I am in the crowd that there's a family connection between these three.)

It's also nice to see Wild, like genuinely smiling.

Moving on

Hero pose again! :D

I love this man

These panels are very important to me so give me a moment while I explain.

Sky probably has her words engrained in his mind. You can see the questioning look, and thinking. "Is this going to work?"

That eternal dream That he's talking about, he knows her power is faded, but he's going to try anyway. I just didn't think he would use it to track what I can only assume is the postman.

It's really nice to have Sky's relationship with the master sword put on display. It means a lot to me and has brought me great Joy through this update.

He cares about her. And even if she can't talk to him anymore. He still trusts her to lead him true.

And this panel breaks my heart! Something inside of him probably really hoped Fi would speak to him or give him more of an indication. Sky looks so sad.

I just wanna hug him, and tell him it'll be alright. He's probably thinking about turning around at this point. Maybe he's thinking about how some members of the chain perceive Fi.

A soulless weapon.

(Or maybe im thinking too much into this)

The way his faith is restored!

Fi did lead him! She did! She's still there somewhere, and his shock! Oh my boy. My sweet blorbo,

And having used like super zoom on that last panel, MY BOY IS SMILING! :D

RUN BLORBO RUN I BELIEVE IN YOU!

(Also appreciation for the full body shot's we've got of Sky from this update, I love it so much I love him so much.)

Did I go hunting for the references, Yes I Did.

I think the following area is the area where they pull Twilight too, rather than the battle field and he then moved on from here to get to the battle field.

From sunset pt4

The pillar behind Sky has the only slant I can think of. It looks to be the same angle, but that could just be me.

If it is that location, it might be closer to that battlefield than we originally (Or at least I originally) assumed.

(If you've got any other places let me know!)

God i love him

Blorbo beloved! Is about as shocked as i am with the whole Mailman thing.

The confidence of this man is unreal. He's ready, he's moving he's going. He's going and ain't going to stop.

Me absolutely yelling at how this portal looks, it so ANGRY, But we know the Shadow is pissed right now. And if the shadow is making these portals and he's angry. I think the chain might be in for a surprise as they move on to the next location.

Which if I have to be honest. I think is going to be Skyloft. I think we are moving into a Sky arch, having had a Twilight Arc. (I also really want to see Skyloft in this universe, and there's an opportunity here. We've had more master sword things. We've had Sky content. who knows where Jojo will take this next, but I'm excited either way.)

Finally back to the chain! :D

The gremlins return :D

Wind's little 3:< face as he's thinking is giving the energy of an upcoming detective arch, He is thinking and he is thinking HARD okay.

Poor Sky. Man has been running around doing all the hard work while the rest of them just enjoy themselves. Hyrule especially is kinda like 'Ohhh... our bad...'

It's actually a kinda guilty look, maybe he feels a little bad about the teasing from earlier?

Now i gotta mention the potion thing, cause its just so damn funny not too. Sky my blorbo slow down you are gonna choke on the stamina potion.

But.

I want to focus on War's here.

And Wild too.

These two. These two are important.

Wild has gone from happy and chill vibes to Oh shit real quick.

After everything he put into the Shadow, while the shadow was injured and watched as the thing exploded. It just decided to come back or something. And Wild, here I imagine is thinking, "How was that not enough..."

Now Wars.

War's is Stood not looking at anything, In fact, I think he's looking past Time. The last thing he said was a two word scolding but apart from that he's been awfully quiet. Now he looks like he's thinking. He's closed off, protective.

The only time I can see where he does this is when he's in what I'm going to call, 'Captain mode.' So, When he's flicked something in his head that tells him he has to be a knight.

He dosent do it often, in fact from what I can see he does it 4 other times.

In order

Devine dark reflections pt 8 - when he's talking about knighthood with Sky and Hyrule

Sunset pt11 - When talking about Wild, and the fact that he's left

Sunset pt13 - When speaking to Twilight about pulling his own weight

Dawn pt 2 - when Twilight is talking about the team they are.

And now here in Dawn 7 - Where they are discussing the fact that an enemy they fought escaped or survived.

All conversations I would assume a captain would have to have with his men at one point or another. I wonder what He's thinking here. It's got me thinking.

Woah, So this took me longer than I thought. I am on the 4-hour mark now. Lmaoooo

Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for listening to me ramble for like 20 minutes.

And just remember

Sky is the sweet bestest blorbo beloved and I love him. :D

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[wroteclassicaly]

ur piss kink thoughts. oh my god /pos

— @inkluvs (ivy)

Oh my god… Well, this took on a mind of its own… I’ll have to release my other full length fic w/ this kink someday! I hope you enjoy it!? Tysm for the ask! And these are just some headcanons of what I think. Idk if Steve would be as into it as Eddie, but I think he’d be down for it in the long run, especially if his partner is! And there’s something so much more wild about this kink with Stevie boy!

I’m so going to hell… 🙊

~*~

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal fingering, references to masturbation, oral & vaginal sex, piss kink/watersports, and overall NSFW content!

The first time that it happened, it was an accident. Steve was fucking into you at a relentless pace with his fingers, curling into that spot. Having been unable to wait to have you, and you thinking you’d be able to get home and pee, then shower, before seeing him later in the evening — to say you had been shocked when he showed up to give you a ride instead of your coworker, that was an understatement. You couldn’t deny him, as you wanted him just as bad. However, you were clenching and holding vice onto muscles in your pelvic floor and thighs, berating yourself for not going before you left the building. And there in an abandoned parking lot, with your boyfriend’s insanely thick fingers inside of you — you were about to have a big problem.

“Steve…”

“Mhm, honey. So wet and warm for me. Waited all day for you, for this. Never can believe it’s real —“

“Steve, stop,” you’d warned him.

That throaty laugh occurred, but he then looked at you in concern. Your eyes were still glazed over, your legs wide open. But something was off. He makes the mistake of moving one finger against your sopping walls, meaning to pull his digits out, and it was happening.

“Please, I —“ Is all you got out before the first spray of yellow liquid is coating his hand and the leather of the seat below, even splashing onto your panties and jeans around your ankles, pooling onto the floor board.

With the fabric of your clothing in the way, you couldn’t close your legs fast enough, so you attempted to bear down and hold the rest, eyes glistening with tears, throat damp with embarrassment. It’s silent, the lights glittering from the street lamps and reflecting the crystal of his car’s windshield. And… part of the mess you had made. You didn’t waste a second, trying to reach for your clothing in hasty retreat.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I tried to stop it. I’m fucking disgusting, I know. Just take me home now, or I’ll walk —“

“Honey. Can you calm down for me for a minute? A second, maybe?” The raspy break in his voice had you looking through your panicked babble, directly at him.

You weren’t prepared to see him with a palm over his swollen denim bulge. He was hard before, yeah, but seeing you let go like that, it was so… raw. He was aching tremendously against his zipper, finger hovering above his belt buckle. Wait, was he… He was into this?

“You’re not mad?” You swallowed harshly, watching in slow motion as his hand moved to cup your damp cunt, not oblivious to the mixture of piss and cream that had dripped out of you.

He shakes those beautiful tresses. “You didn’t finish, did you?”

“I didn’t come, no, but that’s okay —“

“Baby. S’ not what I mean.” His jugular bobbled along a harsh intake of air, then he questioned you. “You still have to pee, right?”

“Well… Yeah, but I can hold the rest —“ The burning inside your body was scorching you. Unprepared is a comedic term for your reaction to his next wonder, your jaw nearly unhinging with a snap.

“Finish for me. Can you do that? While I touch you some more?”

Your eyes had widened and he almost backed out, but didn’t. He trusted you, both of you mostly in synch on things, especially in the bedroom. You were into this too, if any indication by your expelled pant and thighs trapping his wrist.

“But your car —“

“Can be cleaned, baby.”

And that was how it started, more or less. His hand fisting his fat cock as he fingered you to orgasm, all the while you pissed down his wrist and soaked the car his daddy bought for him when he was King Steve, and you were in different circles.

~*~

- King Steve would’ve been into it too, let’s be honest. Marking you, claiming you, humiliating you. He’d have you begging him to piss on or in you — your cunt, ass, and mouth. He owns you.

- When Steve became softer, he was so much more open about liking it, about how it turns both of you on.

- He would piss on you in public settings, have you pee on him, followed by orgasms that left you both breathless after.

- If you acted like a brat, you knew the special punishment he was concocting, what it would contain.

- He loves to make you hold it and watch how he can test your limits before your burst. Your cute shame makes his balls drawl up.

- Isn’t afraid to lick you clean. If he’s feeling bold, if you’re both comfortable — he’ll let it come directly from the source. (This man bit into the flesh and blood of an underworld creature, so who cares about a little piss from the partner he simps over?)

- Asked you to soak his parents staircase and bed before.

- Asks if he can watch you go.

- Gets this look in his eyes when he wants it. “Brought some stuff.” And it’s a towel and wet wipes. That’s the tell-tale sign.

- You peed on his chest and soaked the chest hair and he came untouched one time… Then asked him to piss on your tits.

- Your favorite thing is holding yourself open as he relieves himself on your clit and wet cunt. He uses it to rub you to your climax after.

- Another thing you both favor, is when he pisses inside of you (his personal favorite), as he’s fucking you, and when you go as he fingers you or touches you.

- Likes to come in and pee through your legs while you’re using the restroom. One time, he even had you straddle him as you both went. It was messy, but you tried, and you loved it.

- Jerks himself off beneath the spray of you. You touch yourself as he uses you too.

• I’m sure I have more, but my brain is on nasty overload rn. I’m hiding in shame now 😭

[romanarose]

If You Wanna Be Wild: Chapter 4

Co-written with @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader x Santiago Garcia

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Summary: Javier confronts Santi, but Candy has Santi's back; we get a little insight into Santi's childhood and what makes him this way.

Content and warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter unless something is added: Sex work, drug trade, some drug use/pressured used, sex workers and the mistreatment/stigma surrounding them specifically in the 70’s (my blog is sex worker positive) but ima put potential dub con depending how you look at it as a sex worker who works with dangerous men, some action surrounding reader and the guys and the drug trade, SMUT HEAVY, corruption kink (were corrupting santi here, he’s young, 25), no loss of virginity tho, threesomes, some slight m/m smut but that’s not the focus here, but as you know this blog is an lgbt blog so I’m always open to gay shit. Talk of war and some PTSD but I won't be going a whole lot into it.

For the record, this is a fic that takes place in the drug trade and deals with the darker side of humanity, so anything from Narco's and Triple Frontier is liable to be discussed or mentioned here. This is your warning. This is not a dark fic nor is it centered around dark themes like Leather and Lace or Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside, but they are open to be talked about.

Reader has a nick name: Candy. Not her real name just what she goes by on her profession. Much of the inspo for this and for the title came from the Bruce Springsteen song “Candy’s room” so check it out for the vibes.

Reader speaks Spanish and had hair. I've decided Candy is just latina bc she's a sex worker in Colombia so this is what I'm doing. Reader also has curly hair and dark skin.

ADDITIONAL WARNING!: I'm adding implied covert incest to the warnings. If you don't know what it is, it's NOT the same as physical/sexual, its where the child has a relationship with a parent that is more like spouses than parent/child. I'll leave more to google. In the context of this fic, Santi's mom parentified Santi, made him the "man of the house", treated him like a husband and relied on him to help pay bills.

Thank you as always to my beloved Fen <3 I couldn't do this without your encouragement.

A short 1.8 words

Support writers! Reblog and comment!

**************

“GARCIA!” Javi chased after the young man, running down the stairs. Santi moved fast with his youth, but Javi’s longer legs gained an advantage, skipping stairs and eventually catching Santi and slamming him against the wall.

“I’m sorry!”

“You’re damn right you are! How did you get her number?”

“Your book!”

“You’re going through my shit, Garcia?”

Candy’s voice rang at the top of the stairs, her robe and wild curls flowing as she transcended down the stairs. “Let him go!” 

Javi backed up, letting go of Santi’s shirt with a shove. “You stay the hell away from her!” He said to Santiago.

“Excuse me?” Candy stood in front of Santi, crossing her arms over her robe to protect her modesty, for whatever that was worth. “He is my client, and if he wants to see me, he can see me! You don’t own me!”

Jaci sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose with a huff. “That’s not what I meant. He’s a DEA agent-”

“And you aren’t?”

“He’s not going to be careful! Candy, you sleep with dangerous men, men we are after! If he’s not subtle, you both end up dead!”

“And screaming out his name in my stairwell is being subtle?” 

Javi didn’t have a response, chewing on his cheeks and Santi tried to excuse himself. “I’m just, I’m going to go.” But Candy caught his hand. 

“Santi, sweetheart, it’s okay, we can go back upstairs. You paid me, sweetie.”

He was still avoidant. “No, it’s okay, I reserved the time, I-I’ll just go… yeah- fuck,” he shook his head and tried to go.

Santi pulled away again, but Candy held on: tight but gentle. 

Javi tried to nudge him on. “Go on out of here-”

“I’m sorry-” Santi tried to apologize to the floor when the door opened, and an old woman in a black lace vale shuffled in.

Candy dropped Santi’s hand in favor of wrapping her robe better. “Hola, Señora Perez.”

The old woman eyes Santi and Javi, then looks at Candy. “You alright here, mija?”

With a soft smile, Candy assures her. “Si, Señora, gracias. El,” She nodded to Javi with a glare. “él se va.”

Señora Perez nodded, placing a withered hand on Candy’s shoulder and turning her away from the two boys. “Mija, have I ever told you about my grandson?”

Candy held back a laugh. “No, Señora.”

“He’s a nice young man, a church going boy.” She touched the cross around her neck. “If I may offer some advice, I would suggest you find some different company.” She glanced at Santi and Javi who both avoided her eyes, then back to Candy’s expensive, flowing robe. “And perhaps some more clothes.” Señora Perez patted Candy’s shoulder and moved on towards her door.

Candy muttered “Garcias, Senora” and everyone waited in silence until her apartment door was closed before Candy turned to Santi, as soothing as ever. “Would you like to come back upstairs with me?”

Santi seemed to be considering it when Javier butted in. “Garcia, don’t you fucking-”

“Enough! You are not in charge of him!” Candy shouted before grabbing Javi’s arm and pulling him out the front door and closing it behind her. “What are you doing?” She asked, unsure why Javi was acting this way. 

But Javi didn’t know himself. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew she saw other men. Hell, he saw plenty of other women himself. Was it that he saw Candy with another man? Was it that the man was Santi? Or was it what he was claiming, that Santiago couldn’t be careful, that he couldn’t protect her? Yeah that was it. It certainly wasn’t the bubbling jealous at the idea that Santi was fucking her, holding her, that she kissed his plush lips- uh, that he kissed her plush lips. No, Javier Peña was jealous. 

Instead of divulging all this, Javi diverted. “What are you doing with him? He’s just a kid.”

She scoffed at him. “He’s 25, plenty old enough.”

“Yeah, old enough to get sex from bars, or a nice girlfriend not-” Javi stopped, but it was too late.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “A prostitute? You can say it, Javi. I’m aware of my job title.” 

“Candy, baby, that’s not what I meant-”

Candy rolled her eyes, her hand reaching for the door. “Call me whenever, Javi, but you leave that boy alone.”

She opened the door and Javi only got a peak at Santi, connecting eyes before the door shut in Javi’s face as he took a step forward.

*

Santi watched as Javi walked towards the door, and when it shut he was certain Javi would open it… but he didn’t, and eventually the sound of descending footsteps signaled he left.

“Santiago? Can I call you that now?” She asked as she approached him carefully, with that soft smile that always put Santi at ease. Santi kept looking at the door. “I knew that was your name, before. Knew you worked for the DEA, didn’t know you were Javi’s partner.”

Finally, Santi turned toward her. “Can we not talk about him?”

“Sure. Would you like to go back upstairs with me?” Candy extended her hand that Santi took. She smiled wider. “Let’s go, handsome.”

As they ascended the stairs, Santi’s nerves were through the roof. He felt guilt, like he’d been caught. Santi never got caught before, because he’s never done anything wrong. The pressure from such a young age to be good, to do right, to be the man of the house… it carried over. Santi got his first job at 8 with a paper route he held for years until he found a less than legal job at 13 in a kitchen. The job had so many health code violations and safety hazards, Santi’s arms and legs were burned and cut with scars he now passed off as from the military. He had wounds from there too, but that was primarily the scar down his neck from the bullet that almost killed him, and a few in the chest that went straight through. Frankie said the 4th bullet you don’t even really notice anymore. Santi’s fourth bullet he didn’t feel because he thought he was dead.

All his life he’d needed to do right. His older sister, she was the problem child, the one causing mami problems… Santi loved her too. Elena had her own troubles, their father leaving severely affected her and she sought out that healing from men way too old for her. By the time she entered college, she was a full blown feminist and was teaching Santi all she knew. For his sister’s part, Elena was insistent that Santi be a good man. He learned a lot of valuable lessons about consent and how to treat a woman, not that he had much opportunity to use it.

Santi had become the man of the house when their dad left, his mother treating him like a husband some days. She called him her esposito; her little husband. She’d stay up late at night with him on the couch talking, talking to him about how his father did her wrong, her troubles at work or church… Sometimes it made him feel special, but often it just made him feel worried. He felt like all the problems were his to fix. Elena got into college on scholarship. She’d been a part of a women’s group and had worked hard to save up… Every dime Santi made in his youth went to his mom, so when it came time for adulthood, he couldn’t afford the luxury of college. Santi enlisted in the army at 17, sending home chunks of his paycheck to his mom until the day she died.

The pressure to be good, to be right, to never mess up even the slightest… it manifested in anxiety that Santiago pushed down and down and down… it was bubbling up right now, gurgling in his stomach and in the bile at his throat.

Mami would not approve. She was violently against Elena’s premarital sex, and had told him he could not be like her. God forbid she knew he was seeing a prostitute. Did she know? Was she watching him? Did she know of all the meet ups they'd had this month? Elena wouldn’t approve either, she thought prostitution was degrading to women and that men that sought out prostitutes were objectifying them… this act with Candy was desecrating the two opinions he valued most.

But he didn’t want to stop.

“Do you want to have sex, or would you rather just talk?”

Santi turned to her, confused at that statement. “I thought… do you…”

Her smile changed from soft and assuring to bright and joyful. “Talk? Yes Santiago I can do more than suck dick.”

Panic swept through him. He didn’t want her to think of him like that. She was special to him. He wasn’t stupid, he knew they weren’t dating, but he didn’t just value her for her body. “No! Oh god no, Candy I don’t think of you like that, fuck- you’re- I”

“Santiago.” She placed her comforting hands on his shoulder, a hunt of worry in her eyes. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m just teasing you. Breathe, can you do that for me? In your nose, out your mouth…”

Santi did as she said, and slowly calmed down. “I’m sorry, I just…” When she cocked an eyebrow in concern again, Santi collected his thoughts better. “I enjoy your company. P-physical or not.”

Her reassuring smile was back. “Well I’m glad. I enjoy yours too.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No I’m not.” She frowned ever-so slightly, but unlike his mother he didn’t automatically feel like the frown was his fault or his problem to fix. “Santiago…” Candy took his hand, leading him to the small loveseat and sitting down. “I have a lot of different kinds of men here. I hope that isn’t shocking to say, but I do.” With a gentle nudge to his shoulder, Santi smiled again. “You’d be surprised how many men just want to talk. It’s a lot of them. Before or after sex, but sometimes that’s all we do. I like talking to them, getting to know them. And Santi?” She kissed his cheek and giggled at the tickle of his mustache. “I like getting to know you.”

So Santi stayed there with Candy curled up and lying against his chest on the love seat, just talking. She calmed him. He liked being with her, just being. He knew it was an act, at least part of it. She was paid to be here… but Santi couldn’t help feeling for her, wanting to be with her… With Candy, Santi felt like he could actually be himself, he could be that version of himself he was with Frankie, Benny, Will, and slowly but surely Javi, even if today set him back. Fuck, what was Javi going to say at work tomorrow? Would he yell at him again, get him fired for soliciting prostitutes or for going through his things, would he request a new partner- Santi’s finger wrapped around one of Candy’s curls, carefully letting the lock slip through his fingers as to not to mess them up… he found himself grounded again. That could wait until tomorrow. Candy mattered now.

*******************

Check out the playlist!!! Lots of fleetwood mac and eagles!

Prescious baby Santi <3

Now tell me...

please tell me why in the comments and reblogs! I love to here your thoughts on who had better chemistry, who would work better, who needs to work on themselves etc bc they both got their issues, Javi is a sad slut and Santi is a sad baby.

Thank you so so much for reading!!!

And I want to add, to all my readers effect by the war, whether you or your family or friends, I'm praying for your safety. I don't know how much that means to you, but it's what I have <3

@runa-falls @lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings@whatthefishh @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolboo @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @axshadows @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleur @ninebluehearts @puglover12 @sub-aro @laiisleitte @itspdameronthings @heareball @comfortlessjoy @csarab615 @calaveramangonda @bit-dodgy-innit @stevngrant @nanfafnan @kirsteng42

[rainyamidala]

authors note; if you dont like the "has kids and is pregnant" trope, this is not for you !!!! this is basically a headcanon explaining why jake is so tough on his sons in atwow !!

d/n = daughters name

s/n = sons name.

i didn't want to make up names in case readers would like to do that on their own. personally i imagined the kids in way of water lol

theme; you tell jake he's being too hard on your kids - he tells you why.

pairing; dilf jake sully x reader

warnings; bad ending !! clearly what i need to work on the most. mentions of death and war. intentional lower caps

"Jake." I began, looking at him with that look on my face as he finished lecturing our son. This conversation we were about to have must not be had in front of the kids, as that might make it seem like i don't respect jake when he sets a boundary or makes a decision. if thats what it looked like to our kids they could start not listening to him - which is the last thing i'd want.

but it was getting out of hand, and it made me uncomfortable.

we had three kids, one on the way. two boys, one girl.

i always thought him being much more strict with our sons was because they were older and needed to take more responsibility than our daughter had to - because i agreed with that. he did lecture d/n when he had to (so she wouldn't get a suffocating attitude and behavior as a grown up. parenting !) but with our boys it was very different. he'd lecture them about everything, and being very harsh and closed minded when he did so.

jake caught on, nodding.

"you guys go ahead, your mother and I will be right behind you." he said, patting our oldest sons back twice before they went off, mumbling to each other.

"i told you he'd freak out!"

"shut up, jerk. it was your idea."

"oh, yeah? you're the one who started it!"

i waited until they were out of hearing distance before i began again, turning from their direction and to my mates.

"you are very hard on them." i said as i turned around, gaining a sigh from jake in response.

"we've been over this, y/n. they're teenagers. they can't grow and mature with kisses and hugs."

"but it is more than that. you cannot expect them to make no mistakes." it is hard enough already for them with their father being who he was. but like every other na'vi they wanting to make their father and anyone with his name proud - that wouldn't be such a fight if he didn't have so high and unrealistic expectations.

"i don't." Jake responded fast, sounding over it already. he hated having to explain his reasoning - having to explain and defend himself.

"they think you do. that's whats important - they think you have expectations they will never be able to fulfill."

"they said that?"

"once. but they do not have to. i see it - i feel it." i felt very close to all of my children, like if they were physically hurt, I was too.

"I'm their father - its my job to be hard on them. toughen them up for the real world."

"your daughter is growing up in the same world - you don't treat her the same and they see it, jake." the absolute last thing id ever wish for is for jake to be so tough that it creates a wedge between two sons and a father.

"what do you want me to do, hm? let them run off and break every rule we set for them? that is not the kind of example i want to set for the youngest; that you can do whatever you want, whenever you want with no consequences." as he said the word youngest, he placed a hand on my stomach. ever since i got pregnant, he had gotten even more strict. i thought it was because he didn't want to stress me out with our kids (specifically boys) being wild, doing things they shouldn't be doing, but i'd never asked.

"talk to me, ma jake. why are you like this?" before we had our oldest, s/n, jake was very fun. definitely the wildest man i had ever met, always doing something he shouldn't. he was still like that, but less than before. i knew it was because he had matured massively since then, but i wish he'd seen himself in our sons before being so quick to judge their excitement for the world around them.

"because that's how my father raised me and my brother - i think i turned out alright. that's what i want for them. to turn out alright. more than alright - i want them to be the men they were born to be." he explained, struggling a little to keep the eye contact between us.

Jake was not one to talk about his family or his life before Pandora. i knew about his brother and his warrior background, but his parents weren't a subject he'd heavily touch on unless heavily forced.

"when i was a marine, i could be careless. it's more to the story but in the end, i lost my legs because i wasn' thinking two steps ahead. i didn't have my father to correct and lecture me, so i'm giving it to my kids." Jake was very grateful for this chapter in his life, more thankful for this than anything. being able to wiggle his toes and run in the forest was a gift he did not recognize until it was lost. not being able to do so as a human threw him to the wolves of depression - same affect as losing his brother.

he'd hate for one of his sons to get badly injured or even worse: one losing the other like he had lost his brother many years ago.

i opened my mouth to respond, but he quickly shut me off by continuing.

"my father raised me like this and I will continue raising my sons like this. you might not agree with me on everything, but i know i'm doing the right thing."

In response, i just nodded, looking down. i felt slightly bad for bringing it up, seeing the direction it had gone in. Jake had lost his brother and didn't want our kids to fall in his footsteps of fate.

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 3)

Summary: After a day of sand surfing, Dean surprises Y/N after a couple too many drinks. Things go awry when she tries to help him and she finds herself stepping in between him and his father. 

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Word Count: 4,238 

Warnings: underage kiss, age gap (reader is 16, Dean is 20 but closer to 21), physical abuse by a parent, violence, injury/blood, mentions of death and alcoholism, John is an asshole in this one, underage drinking, drunk!Dean, protective!Dean, language, slow burn, angst, a little heartbreak, mutual pining, a bit of fluff 

A/N: Even though this is the last part of the main plot, their story is only half over. 

_____ 

You shoved your beer in the sand and took a bite of your hotdog. Two bites later, Dean sat down next to you. You felt him side eyeing you but you didn't look over, you stared out at the horizon instead. 

"Are you that mad at me?" He asked with a quiver in his voice. "I fucked up, I'm sorry." 

You swallowed the last of your hotdog, "What are you talking about?"

"In the Jeep, my comment about your uniform, I swear I didn't mean it to come out that way. I figured you'd be mad, so I'm trying to give you space. But now you look just as upset as you were last night." He sniffled and shifted his eyes to the horizon, then back again. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, steeling his jaw. 

"I'm not mad," you said, turning to face him. 

The others were far enough away that they couldn't overhear and only echoes of laughter met your ears. The sunlight shone down on Dean and you could see the layers of colours under his skin from where his father had hit him. And you felt the need to ease the tension. 

"You lied," you teased, shaking your can of beer that was nearly half empty now, "Chocolate's still better." You smiled and held out the can for him, "Want the rest?" 

He nodded and took the can from you, "I can take you home, if you want?" He still thought you were mad. 

You shook your head, "I haven't tried sand surfing yet. Could you still show me how? I'm scared I won't be able to stop and wipe out."

"Yeah, of course." He stood up and reached down a hand for you. You grabbed it and he hoisted you up to your feet, "Still friends?"

"Still friends." You smiled and this time he returned the gesture. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Dean." 

He chuckled, "Good because I tend to fuck up more than once." Then he let go of your hand like he'd forgotten he was holding it and chugged the half a beer you gave him. 

The others stuck around while Benny grilled seconds and you and Dean headed out to where they'd left the boards. Dean handed you one and you shuffled your feet into the bindings as if they were slippers. Dean did the same with his own board and stood so he was facing you. 

He grabbed your hands to keep you upright when you started to fall backwards, "Keep your knees bent and weight centred, okay?" You nodded and looked down the edge of the sand dune. It looked much steeper now than when you were further away. "Y/N, look at me." He smiled and it instantly made you feel better, "I won't let go, okay? We're just gonna ride straight down and once the ground levels out the board stops pretty fast on its own, not like in the snow." You nodded again, assuming there was more friction with sand so that made sense. "Ready?" 

He started to shift you both towards the edge of the dune, "Wait! Wait. How do I stop?" 

He chuckled when you squeezed his hands tighter, "You won't need to but it's real simple, you just lean back on your heels and lift your toes. Turning depends on how deep the sand is but you shift your weight to your front foot and move your hips the way you wanna go." He explained and you repeated his words in your head, slightly more confident you could attempt a stop or a turn if you needed to. "Ready this time?" 

"As I'll ever be," you laughed nervously and fixed your grip on his hands. 

One last shift and the boards started to glide down the dune, sand kicking up between you and covering the edges of the boards. Your speed increased and your hair whipped back in the wind and tickled your neck. It was a freeing feeling and you shut your eyes for a moment to bask in the feel of it. Trusting Dean not to let go and he didn't, even when your toes bumped together every now and again. Then the ground levelled out and you came to a stop. 

"How was your first time?" Dean asked, releasing your hands and slipping his feet from the bindings before he whipped his head up and raised his hands. Realizing what he'd just asked. "I didn't mean- I can't stop putting my foot in my mouth." 

"Dean, it's fine, I know what you meant and it was fucking awesome! Can we go again?" 

He laughed silently and chewed his lip, "Uh-huh." He nodded and you collected your board and followed after him as he climbed back up the dune. 

You rode down the dune with Dean as training wheels a couple more times until you felt comfortable enough to try it on your own. The last run you'd challenged him to a race and were now sprawled out on the side of the dune after colliding and wiping out. Luckily, it was near ground level and neither of you got badly hurt. Just a couple of bruises both of you would be proud to bare in a day or two. 

You stared up at the grey clouds rolling in overhead, a storm was coming. "Do you think it'll pass?" 

"Probably not," Dean said, following your gaze and getting his breath back after you'd winded him by landing on him. "Wasn't on the radar earlier though." 

You rolled over to face him and propped your head on your hand. Both your boards had been dislodged in the fall and lay a couple yards away at the bottom of the dune. Dean grinned up at you and booped you on the nose. His smile reached his eyes and his injuries, new and old, were forgotten. 

"How long do we have," you asked, knowing he'd have a better sense having lived his whole life in this town. 

"Half hour, tops." 

"Hmm," you flopped back down next to him using his arm as a pillow and feeling the heat of his chest radiate off him. "But I'm not ready to leave yet." 

"Me either," he breathed and dipped his head when you looked at him. 

Then his lips fit over yours and he kissed you gently. His touch was so soft that you barely felt the pressure of his lips before they were gone. He waited half a breath, green eyes searching yours, then kissed you again. 

Dean was leaning over you now, his breath ghosting over your lips before he kissed you a third time and the reality of it all finally sunk in. It wasn't that you didn't want this, you did, but it would come at a cost. One you weren't willing to let Dean pay. 

You pushed on his chest and separated your lips, "Stop." 

"I'm sorry," Dean scrambled off you and crumbled to the ground a couple feet away. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I-I didn’t..." 

"Hey, Dean," you placed your hand on his shoulder, his back facing you. "It's all right, I'm not upset that it happened, but you do understand why it can't happen again, right?" 

Thunder sounded overhead, rumbling the ground beneath you and a minute later the Jeep was pulling around the dune to pick you and Dean up. Dean collected the boards and tossed them in the trunk, letting you climb into the backseat before he slid in after you. You wished you had a chance to talk to him without the others around. You didn't want to leave things with him like that but you didn't have much choice. 

You sat in bed after dinner, drying your hair with a towel and staring at your phone. You figured once you got the sand out of every crevice of your body you'd be able to think clearer but it had been hours now and you still couldn't decide what you wanted to text Dean. And then an ellipses popped up, Dean was typing... 

Dean: Have you ever seen Ferris Bueller's Day Off?

Y/N: Um, yeah. Why? 

Dean: Come outside. 

Y/N: It's pouring out. 

Y/N: ?!

Dean: ...

You hopped out of bed and tugged on your raincoat, slipping outside unseen as your parents had gone to bed and your brother was either playing video games or chatting with the blonde over video chat in his room. 

Dean spread out his arms when he saw you and stumbled over from leaning against Baby. His father's beloved car was parked in your driveway and a strange ugly butterfly fluttered in your stomach. You wanted to vomit after everything Benny had told you. 

"Don't," you pushed a very drunk Dean away when he tried to hug you. He pouted and fell back against the hood of the Impala, letting the rain soak through his clothes. "What did you do?" 

The front bumper of the car was smashed in like he'd kicked the damned thing and a headlight was shattered beyond repair. No way he could hide this from his father. But maybe if he was lucky, his father would think he'd done it by driving home drunk, as it seemed he often did. 

"Remember the Ferrari? The car in the movie. I've had dreams about doing that to his precious Baby." Dean said, looking down at the damage he'd done and laying his palm flat on the hood. "I tried, but I can't. I love her, too. I can still see my mom in the front seat, reaching over to baby Sammy the day we brought him home from the hospital. It broke him when she died. My father. He wasn't always like this."

"It's not the car's fault your father is an ass, Dean. It's okay to love her." He met your eyes and you could tell he was aching for a hug. So you gave him one. "It's not your fault either, you know." 

He squeezed his arms around you as his body shook and he sniffled. You rubbed your hands over his shoulders and he buried his face in your neck, reeking of booze. He couldn't drive home on his own and you needed to get Baby back in his driveway if there was any chance Dean was getting away with this. 

It took some convincing but you finally got Dean to let you go. You carted him over to the passenger side and pushed him in the seat. Then ran around and crawled in behind the wheel. You might not have had a license, but you knew how to drive, theoretically. You only failed the written driver's test anyway, which was more technical, and you were sure you'd ace the practical when it was time. 

Of course to do that you needed your learner's permit in order to practice driving. So aside from that one time your dad let you drive in circles around an empty parking lot, you didn't have much practice or knowledge about how cars worked; your love for pre-seventies muscle was purely aesthetic and luckily, Baby was an automatic. So you managed to get the Impala backed out onto the street easily enough and headed in the direction towards Dean's house. The hardest part was keeping your speed steady without watching the odometer the entire time. 

Then the rain picked up and coated the windshield so thick you couldn't see and you fiddled with the controls until you got the wipers going full speed. Dean wasn't much help and leaned over until his head was in your lap and he passed out. 

You were only a street away when you ran a hidden stop sign and saw red and blue lights flashing in the rearview mirror. You panicked as you pulled over to the side of the road. You we're screwed, Dean was fucked and there was no way Baby was making it home. 

You were stuck sitting in the waiting area of the police station for several hours. Dean had been carried off to a cell in the back where, presumably, he could sleep it off and your parents disappeared into an office the moment they'd first arrived and had yet to reemerge. You twiddled your thumbs and smoothed out your old pyjama bottoms, the ones with the Hello Kitty pattern. 

A tall, broad man entered the station and carried himself up to the front desk in oil stained work boots. He tapped on the wood impatiently, the whites of his eyes as red as his nose. He told the officer his name was John Winchester and he was there to pick up his son. You didn't think anything of it, you two couldn't have been the only kids in trouble that night. But then the officer escorted a slightly less drunk Dean into the waiting area and your heart threw up into your throat. 

You never asked what Dean's last name was. Winchester?

Dean locked eyes with his father from across the room as if he could feel his presence before anything else. He didn't glance around so he didn't see you and hung his head as he walked over to his father. You didn't hear what he said to him, but Dean hunched his shoulders even lower. And then they headed for the door. 

Sure, Dean got drunk, Dean stole his father's car and drove Baby to your house, and then Dean let a minor without a license drive while he was passed out in the passenger seat; but Dean hadn't got caught, you did. You should've been in more trouble than him and in a way you were -then Dean glanced back at you and mouthed 'I'm sorry' and followed his father outside- and you knew you weren't. 

You wondered, if an accident instigated the bruises Dean already had when you met him, then what would something intentional provoke. You thought for sure he'd have a cast the next time you'd see him and the old bruising would be refreshed, but then you thought of that scar. The scar you'd only seen a part of and a shiver ran through your jaw.

John might very well kill his son tonight. You might never see Dean again. 

At that thought, you were out of your seat and rushing for the door that Dean and his father had left through only moments ago. The officer at the desk shouted something behind you but you didn't stop as you skirted past him. 

You burst outside and scanned the parking lot, spotting a tow truck running with Baby hooked up to the back and you sprinted towards it. You heard shouting coming from inside the cab and then what sounded like a struggle. You climbed up the cab and ripped the door open. You grabbed Dean by the arm and wrenched him away from his father. 

Dean spilled out onto the pavement and you helped him to his feet. His lip bled where it split again and his left eye was clamped shut. You dragged him back towards the station but only got so far before you heard John spit and shout as he exited the cab and rushed after you. 

Dean grabbed you by your waist and shoved you forward, away from his father. Then turned around to face him, putting himself between the two of you. Protecting, like he always did, only now it was with you instead of Sam. You tried to tug his arm but he shook you off and stared down the beast of a man barreling after you both. 

John tackled Dean to the ground and pinned him to the pavement. It wasn't a fair fight, John was in a different weight class and just as his fist was about to make contact with his son's jaw for a second time, you screamed and jumped on his back, choking him from behind with the crook of your elbow. He cursed and you yanked hard on his ear with your free hand, digging your nails into the skin until the tips were sticky with blood. 

You heard shouting that didn't come from any of you and a rush of footsteps before you were ripped from John's back and thrust into your mother's arms. She held you tight as you tried to get back to Dean but two other officers were already separating the two of them and wrestling John to the ground, cuffing him. 

Anger and fear surged through your veins until all you could hear was your own heartbeat and you pried your mom's hands from your arms. 

You rushed towards Dean as he stood up and buried yourself in his chest. He groaned and bent his shoulders as he hugged you back. His cheek resting against your hair as he breathed you in. He was safe. 

It was over, as far as you were concerned, Dean and Sam could live with you until Sam aged out. You'd even give up your room, you didn't care. Your parents were fair people, they wouldn't make him go back to a home like that. Not now that they've seen it. 

You didn't realize you were crying until Dean shushed you and locked his hands behind your back. You were supposed to be comforting him, not the other way around, but he didn't seem to mind. 

It turned out John had already had a couple of offences when he was arrested and taking a swing at the officer detaining him was the last straw. He was going to prison, not for as long as he deserved but long enough for Sam to age out. They wouldn't have to worry about him for a while, but they needed a place of their own to start building a life rather than staying where they were and paying off their father's debt. 

So it didn't come as a surprise to you when a week later you saw Dean leaning back against Baby as he waited outside of your school, after your last class cut out. Sam was in the passenger seat and you couldn't even see in the back with all of their stuff crowding it. 

They were leaving. 

Dean's eyes followed you as you walked over to him, "Is this where you beg me to come with you?" You asked. 

He laughed silently, "I thought you'd beg me to stay." 

You sighed and played with your plaid skirt, remembering Dean's comment about your uniform almost made you smile, "So, where are you headed?" 

"Our Uncle Bobby and Aunt Jody's place over in Sioux Falls, they're not blood relatives but she and my mom used to be close, so they said we could crash with them for a while since they have a suite above their garage. And Bobby has his own auto-shop so he offered me a job." He explained with a sad smile but hope in his eyes for the first time since you'd met him. 

"How's Sam feeling about the move?" You asked, noting his forlorn little brother gazing out the window at nothing in particular. 

"He's not thrilled about being separated from Ruby." He leaned in close and whispered, "She's not a great influence on him, though. Bit of a pothead." You laughed and he bit his lip, "This is a good look for you, by the way." 

"I was wondering how long it would take you to comment." You blushed and spun around so your skirt flared and showed off your knee high socks. "I'm gonna miss you. This place is going to be so boring without you." 

"We'll see each other again." Dean cocked his head and brushed his lips to your cheek in a soft kiss, "I promise. This isn't the end for us."

"Don't forget about me." 

"That's not possible," his hands found your shoulders and he pulled you in for a hug, clutching you to him. "I wish we met sooner."

"You would've just left sooner." You said, holding him just as tight.

"Maybe, maybe not." 

"You'd still be too old." You teased. 

"Maybe you're too young." 

You sighed when he drew back, "You're taking Baby?" 

"Yeah," he glanced back at the car and the damage he'd done, "I have some amends to make with her and if my father wants her back when he gets out, he'll have to find me first." 

"You deserve her more than him," you said and he shifted on his feet, his chin quivering. "Text me when you get to Sioux Falls."

"Still gonna worry about me?" 

"Every-damn-day. So you better keep in touch." 

He cleared his throat and kissed your forehead, "Goodbye, Y/N."

You shook your head, you couldn't say ‘goodbye’, it would feel like forever. "I'll see you soon." You started to back away and head towards where your brother's car was parked. 

"Oh- uh, Y/N. Hold on!" He opened his car door and grabbed a package from the seat. "Don't open it now." He handed you a gift wrapped in newspaper. 

"I can't say goodbye again, Dean." 

"Then don't." He brushed a lock of hair behind your ear and turned around. 

You heard the familiar rumble of Baby's engine and lifted your teary gaze to see them take off down the road. Then Dean beeped the horn twice as a final goodbye and you burst into a half laughing, half teary-eyed mess. 

You didn't even attempt to reign it in for your brother's sake as you slid into the passenger seat with Dean's gift on your lap. You toyed at the edge of the newspaper and ripped it open. It was a framed picture of you and Dean sand surfing, although the boards weren't in the picture. It was before he kissed you, he'd taken a selfie after you wiped out with him the first time, insisting he needed to document the first time you laughed that day. 

"Are you okay? Do I need to beat his ass?" Your brother asked when you cried even harder. He was up to speed on everything, Dean's home situation and what had happened at the police station, so he was being an ass but a sweet ass. You just shook your head and showed him the picture. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I don't think I've ever felt that way about someone." Then he patted your shoulder awkwardly, but it was a start. A start at rebuilding a bond with your brother in light of recent events. 

You jumped out of the car when you got home, beelining for the garage. You picked up a hammer and nail and headed inside, brushing past your father. Who was making a point at being home more since the police station and he followed after you with a concerned look. 

You got to your room, picked the first wall you saw and tapped the nail into the sheetrock until only the head stuck out, your father watching silently as you did so. You smiled and dropped the hammer onto the bed, then hung up your first picture frame in your new home. It was only five-by-seven and looked tiny on the wall, but you didn’t care. It made your room cozy and warm. Then you dug out some moving boxes from your closet and started to unpack. Finally. You’d been dragging your feet since the move in the spring and left non-essentials packed away. 

"Are you working this Sunday?" You asked as you opened one of the boxes and started pulling things out and piling them on your bed. 

"I don't have to. Why? Is there something you wanna do?" Your father asked, leaning in the doorway. 

"There's a car show at the park," you suggested and cocked your head. 

"Count me in," he smiled and dug your phone out from his pocket. They'd taken it away in an attempt to ground you but they'd forgotten it was connected to your laptop the whole time. "Mom and I talked and we don't feel right about not being able to reach you." He handed the phone back to you. "No more stunts like last week, you scared the daylights out of us. We didn't know what to think when we got that phone call." 

It might've been the forced perspective that brought your family together but it took more than that in the long run. You realized at some point you stopped trying to connect with them too. And in order to reconnect, they had to try but you had to try too. Like making a house a home, it didn’t just happen overnight, someone had to take the first step and everyone had to put in the effort. Life gets busy and you take love for granted; it shouldn’t have took a wakeup-call to bring your family back together, someone should’ve taken that first step long before but you could learn from it and make an effort in the future. 

The text from Dean came later the next day. 

Dean: We made it! If you see Benny, please tell him to stop sending me pictures of the ocean. I get it already! But it's hard enough and this is better for Sam. And it won't be forever. 

You didn't want to believe him, but it felt good to; so you did. Hope wasn't something to be afraid of anymore. You would see him again. 

_________________________

Part 4

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers

[fountainpenguin]

"My mind is twisted up and you're to blame... Are you aware of how you say my name? I've tried so hard to push you away..." (x)

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New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 33 - “Cinders (Etho)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

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"But for real, the most beautiful thing Lizzie did was treating me like a stranger. She didn't see him." Sniff sounds like he's floating, eyes like glaciers. "I'm never going to stop being 'Joel 2.0' to you. Am I?"

Etho finally tells SnifferMyFeet what happened between him and Joel post-Double Life. Sometimes people slip right through your fingers... It's just weird it happened twice.

#smalletho - Etho/Sniff tension followed by several flashbacks about Etho's past with Joel (bed sharing, cuddling, teasing, discussing Joel's kids (Hermes & Tiny Tom), and Etho trying to learn Joel's boundaries, which Joel avoids defining)

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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Yeah, we allogrooming (chewing on each other's code strings and pulling them with mouths to straighten them); keep scrolling

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Etho - Fox

Status: Keep 'em guessing

Self-taught programmer, full-time hero

💙  🧡  💚

It's familiar, but not in the way you think. It's familiar because the universe speaks to itself (to his soul) each time it checks he's doing okay. Especially on full moon nights. When the moon reaches down its light, Etho adjusts his footing and licks his lips, then chews its fingers and nuzzles back.

Give yourself a shake. Fluff up your fur. It's the arctic fox way. Then you run off to do exactly what you're meant to do, because you're born of the universe and were given conscious thought so you could love your role. The mobs play their part. You play yours. Beneath silver moonlight, we meet and make merry, for tomorrow we're AFK for weeks or months on end. You're born in the code. You live forever. And that's just the way of things.

Which is to say that snuggling up next to Sniff, one hand pressed to the back of his shoulders to hold him down against the mattress, is one of those wild things that's new and familiar at the exact same time. You remember all those tools we were gonna clean his code with? Yeah, those are beginner's toys. This is how it's done right.

It's a work of teeth and tongue: nipping code beneath his skin with glowing teeth and pulling it to straighten strings. It's goopy, thick, and messy. It's the way of the world; song as old as time.

Sniff keeps very quiet, his hands stretched out in front of him. He kneads the pillow. They don't speak. Not now. Etho keeps his hand firm, bearing weight on Sniff through a blanket so their pixels won't blend together, as he makes his way around cheek, neck, shoulder, and back. Sniff's filled with stagnant energy. It doesn't move fast - doesn't carry the parts that need attention towards Etho's mouth the way it should - but his tongue's doing the job the activator whisk should do. It ripples through his code. It stirs the stuff awake. That'll get him moving. Sniff gives a big, silent yawn that splays his fingertips and flicks his tongue. Then he turns his head away. His wings flex like a butterfly's and slowly fold against his back.

Etho keeps working. The mask's been dropped aside for this- It's just easier than letting it dangle at his neck. He nips with his teeth, catching strings, and fixes everything he can. There's only so much you can do with stagnant code. Most species don't eat it, but a fox can. Like the phantoms, they scavenge.

Etho takes the stuff Sniff doesn't need. He doesn't need scratches and aching muscles. He doesn't need chipped nails and dirty feet. He doesn't need the callus on his writing finger, the ink stains, or the ache between the V of two fingers. These are little add-ons (just wrinkles in the code). Etho pulls them free of soul and skin. They slip between his teeth.

Sniff drags Etho's other hand forward. Etho shifts, keeping balance. His hand's pretty neat and tidy after the week-long experience of Sniff cycling his code. Sniff nibbles at it anyway. The bits in his system that are ruffled prickle to attention and swish the messy bits forward so Sniff can gnaw the tangles away. Yeah, that's the spot. Etho thumps his tail against the bed.

Unlocking advancements feels like this. And the universe loves them, and it gave them thought without breaking the ecosystem, because it wanted them to know they're loved.

If there's an advancement for allogrooming, it's one he achieved a long, long time ago. Probably when he was just a kit. Not a lot of memories from the early days still stick with him, but he does remember Rhetoric chewing on his ear. He had fox ears back then. They used to wrestle with each other, but growing up is complicated. Sometimes you do the best you can every day of your life… and for what? Your mother will still pick you up by the scruff and drop you on the doorstep of a dragon she thinks could use you more.

He and Bdubs have that in common. Bdubs just refuses to admit it.

Oh yeah… We can't let the Slime Dragon see Sniff. She'll wanna kill him so he respawns at his mom's nest. Etho yawns. He stops messing with the code. Instead, he nestles his chin against the back of Sniff's neck. What time is it? Feels like they've been here for a thousand ticks, but it's such a blur that it could easily be half as much. It probably isn't. It can't be that long… He hasn't been called to Dog's Life yet.

Sniff chews at his fingers for a little longer, but his teeth slow too. He rests his cheek against his knuckles. Etho sweeps his tail sideways, brushing it across Sniff's back. He's warm. And without the nips and pulls, consistent collision isn't going to last. Pixels prickle. His chin starts to sink straight through.

It's familiar. But not the way you think. He never groomed Joel like this, with his mouth, except one time he had to re-open some rumpled bite marks that had sealed themselves in ridges across his shoulders. Long story there… but it's familiar because the universe told him this feels right tonight.

And it does feel right tonight. He's not gonna leave the mask off for long. Or the bandana, for that matter. He's way too exposed like this, raised blue scar curling over his eye and across his lips (all of it on display). Sniff probably feels the same way. He's still got both his shirts off. The curve of his spine's marked with a stripe. When you're this close, you can see the tiny zigzag marks where skin meshes like it's stitched. His giant scar - that big, white X - pulses with a dim, hazy glow.

Etho removes his head before he can sink any lower. He noses Sniff's cheek, then his chin. Once they're upturned, he gets back to work. A little more clipping here. A little trimming there. Making his way around. Sniff makes one soft noise like he's debating whether to squirm away. He keeps his eyes shut though, arms relaxed, and his wings stay folded up- lazy and content. Etho adds a few licks, keeping them light so he can seal the tiny gashes left behind by his teeth without startling Sniff enough to ask questions about 'what they are' again.

Funny. Last week, we did this the other way around. But he doesn't go as far as Sniff did. Tonight's about grooming, not feeding. Etho chews a knot from the back of Sniff's neck, then draws back. "Hey, Sniff, you-"

"My full name, Etho," he mumbles, not opening his eyes. "I only have one rule."

Right. Etho rasps his tongue around his lips and starts again. "SnifferMyFeet, I want to ask something."

"Mm?"

"I know we said we wouldn't be 'serious' right now. I've just been wondering if maybe, after I do recordings and Hermitcraft clean-up… If you'd want to eat my soul again?"

Sniff's fingers still against the sheets. They alternate whose turn it is to breathe, like they used to at night on The Relation or when they were testing how far they could swim without coming up for air. Spoilers: Oxygen does not transfer from one soulmate's body to another.

Then Sniff blinks himself back to full awareness. He sits up on his knees. The covers slide down his back. Hands still braced, but no longer looking cozy. The guy reaches to pinch his brow and take his folded tank top at the same time. "You… want to use my vessel? Fluff, I dunno. Can I say that? I think I can."

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[adrift-in-thyme]

@thepinklink Plink you lovely human I come bearing Legend whump for you <33

I'm so glad you met and I've absolutely loved chatting with you these last few days! I look forward to many more conversations <3

Now, this fic kinda got out of hand (*stares at word count* I...did not expect it to get that long I promise), so I'm gonna hide it beneath the cut. But first, warnings!

CW for poisoning, vomiting, blood and injury, harm to animals, and some trafficking vibes (it's not trafficking specifically and isn't related to such harm to humans. But still, be careful)

Oh yeah and you can also read this on ao3

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Legend moves on feather-light feet. His cape swishes gently around him, its silken folds embracing his slight form. Not for the first time he thinks how lucky he is to have it. To possess the ability to become invisible is an invaluable skill. Especially, in situations like this one.

“Come on, rancher. I know you’re here.”

He steps around another row of empty crates, their metal bars dinged and scratched from previous occupants. He can feel their presence still lingering, calling out in panicked voices few humans can understand.

“Help us!” They cry and every word makes his ears prick up, listening even as he tries not to. “Set us free!”

Roughly, Legend swipes at his eyes. 

Find Twilight and get out of this cursed place — those are his only objectives. And the sooner he completes it, the better.

He tugs his cape closer about his throat and tightens his grip on his sword. Determinedly, he moves forward.

It seems like forever before the telltale sound of snuffling reaches his ears. Legend perks up, ears pricking at the noise. He can hardly pick out the rancher’s distinctive wolf scent through the stench of dozens of past captives. Still, this place has been empty up until now. Empty and horrid and dark.

So too have been the countless cages scattered about the wide space. But the one Legend can see now tucked awkwardly into a tight corner…that one is occupied.

A large, gray wolf is curled within it, ears drooping in defeat and blood on his paws. His breaths come fast, an edge of panic and pain hitching the end of every one.

Legend’s heart clenches despite himself. 

I’m coming, Twi. Just hold on.

Furtively, he glances around. No figures move in the shadows, no one steps into the dim light. But the goddesses only know how long he has before someone arrives. 

Legend takes a deep breath and rushes forward.

Twilight’s ears prick up at the sound of pattering feet. He raises his head, tired eyes searching for the disturbance. Fear quickly turns them razor-sharp. A growl rumbles in his throat, low and hoarse, but threatening all the same.

Quickly, Legend lowers his hood. He’s sure that a floating head isn’t the most reassuring thing in the world, but still, it’s better than nothing. And he is unwilling to remove his entire cape just yet. With luck, he can conceal Twilight beneath it as well. 

“Hey, hey quiet,” he hisses, holding up invisible hands. “You’re gonna alert the creeps.”

Twilight pauses in the act of rising to his feet, head cocked like one of the stable dogs in Wild’s Hyrule. Legend’s lips lift slightly. He reaches for the lock with one hand, retrieves a cluster of keys from his pouch with the other. 

He found them earlier, hanging on the wall from a hook. A paltry attempt at looking professional, in his opinion. Real villains conceal the keys in their cloaks or attach them to their souls with the darkest of magics, unreachable by any who lack the strength to defeat them.

He’s fortunate, though. Fortunate, that they weren’t smart enough to do either. 

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” he murmurs. 

Ring-adorned fingers slide over the collection of keys, magic rifling silently through them, searching for the one that fits the cage. It weaves with elegant grace between them, selects the right one, confidently raises it like a pointing finger. Legend grasps it and fits it into the lock.

The padlock plummets into his waiting palm.

“Alright, let’s get out of this place,” he breathes. And burn it down on the way out. “Can you walk?”

Twilight dips his head. Slowly, he limps out of the cage. A cold nose bumps against Legend’s cheek, leaving a smear of wetness there. The veteran swipes grumpily at it.

“Yeah, yeah you’re welcome. Now, let’s get out of here before somebody discovers us.”

Pulling his hood back over his head, he nudges the rancher into the safety of his cloak. Matted fur scrapes against his legs as they begin to walk. No doubt Twilight is leaving a trail of bloodied paw prints behind. But there’s nothing much Legend can do about that. Except, of course, pick up the pace.

At the rate they’re going, it’ll take them thirty minutes just to reach the double doors. By that time someone will have entered the room, noticed the marks, and begun a search. And though the cape is wonderful for concealing physical forms, it does little in the way of softening sounds.

Twilight stumbles, a low whine escaping before he can stop it. Something damp and clammy slides down Legend’s legs. The veteran reaches down and sets a hand on the rancher’s head.

“Hang on,” he whispers, and the wolf nudges him again in response.

Legend inhales deeply and blows it out. His eyes flit back and forth, searching for hidden adversaries. Every limping, laborious step brings them closer to their escape. Yet, it seems so far…

If he could lift the wolf, that would be helpful. One kick of his pegasus boots and they’d speed right on out of here. But Twilight isn’t light and Legend is already expending quite a lot of magic to keep them both hidden. 

Slow and steady is their only choice, then, he thinks, with a huffed sigh. Because it can just never be easy. 

If he’s lucky, though, it will be enough. 

But he is hardly the luckiest guy on earth. 

They have made little in the way of progress when a door slides open behind them. It glides softly on its hinges, showcasing a rather large grouping of shadows. They stretch along the floor in front of the two heroes. 

Legend stares down at them, heart in his throat. He dares not turn around to see who they belong to. Instead, he eases down into the shelter of a small enclosure of crates. 

Twilight lowers himself with a haggard sigh. But that terror still remains poignant in the piercing blues of his irises. And when he turns to peek at the doorway, his breathing speeds up.

What were those sadists planning to do to him? Legend wonders, fingers coming to rest in thick fur. He hopes it’s a reassuring gesture. What have they already done? 

“You said you had another test subject for me.” It’s a woman’s voice, sharp and calloused, like a hand that has held a weapon too many times. “Where is it?” 

“Right this way ma’am.” 

Large figures fumble to allow her a way forward. Legend tenses as the shadows grow darker, shorter. His fingers tighten, drawing a small comfort from the feel of his sword hilt in their grasp. 

The group approaches, passes by without even turning in his direction. He doesn’t allow himself a sigh of relief. They still haven’t reached the cage.

When they do, he knows it.

“He’s right — wait a minute! Where’d he go?”

Panic pitches gravelly voices higher.

“He was right here! I swear!”

“What you swore,” the woman hisses, “was that there would be a wolf waiting for me. A wolf with the power to turn into a man. 

“You swore to me that your price would be worth paying. Evidently, I trusted the wrong people.”

The room suddenly tenses, air thickening and growing sharp. Like a dagger readying to be thrown. 

Legend’s breath catches in his throat. Dark magic. He’s suffocating on it.

Somewhere, something makes a sickening squelch. A scream sends the pressure spiraling.

“No, n-no need for further violence! I can fix this, I swear!” 

The shadows darken once more. A man backs towards their spot, hands raised. 

“He’s here,” she says with icy decisiveness. “I can feel him.” 

The air goes taut again. She is closer than ever now, eagle’s eyes scanning for her prey. Twilight is rigid. Legend’s fingernails dig into his palm. 

“Them. I can feel them. There’s two of them now. Find them both, or suffer the same fate as your companion.”

Burly men the size of his uncle trip over themselves, sputtering promises and reassurances. They fan out, weapons in their hands. 

But the woman only grows closer. Legend can smell her now — rotting flesh and chu jelly and bokoblin innards, all attempting to hide beneath a layer of costly perfumes.

Legend presses a hand to his nose, fighting not to retch. Beside him, Twilight shudders.

“You’re near,” she purrs. Hands marred by too many magical experiments reach out, taloned nails beckoning. “I can smell your fear. Come out and I won’t hurt you.” 

Nearby, a stack of cages topple with a deafening crash. Legend flinches despite himself. Loud noises have always affected him strongly. Every one feels like an assault to his ears. But in this moment, with the tension and the terror, with a hundred different plans whirring in his mind, it feels like an explosion in his skull.

“Yes. I feel your despair as well.” 

She is even nearer now. Legend can see her hideous form, monstrous and gnarled and emanating dark power. Like a witch from the illustrated story books Uncle read him as a boy.

“Come out, little heroes. Come out.”

Legend inhales a shallow breath. He’s going to have to, at some point. She isn’t going to let up — that much is certain. 

But that doesn’t mean he can’t still try to evade her.

Closing his eyes, he sections off some of his magic. There is a separate path from the main one, one more violent, more…explosive. A simple nudge and eagerly, his magic streaks down it.

Legend nudges Twilight in the side. 

Get ready.

One second passes, then two more. Off to their left, crates and cages and men go flying in an eruption of crackling detonations. 

Legend works quickly, pouring more magic in, causing more explosions. They heat the air, send objects and people hurtling. Screams of pain and shouts of fear ring out.

The woman whirls for just a moment. And that’s enough. It has to be.

The veteran leaps to his feet. They can’t run — what Twilight achieves is more of a hobbling jog than anything else — but maybe, just maybe if they keep up this panicked pace they’ll have a chance…

Something streaks through the air, sharp and vicious, searching. It’s pure magic at first, a dark power he tries to evade, to shield them against. But his efforts only draw it to him further. It speeds up, ravenous and eager, zipping towards him. And the next thing he knows, a dagger is embedded in his bicep. 

Legend chokes on a sudden mouthful of blood. He tries to remain quiet, he tries. But the cry breaks free anyway, agonized and cut off, screamed through gritted teeth. 

Wrong, his body and mind screech as something horrible and icy slides off of the blade and into his veins. Wrong, dangerous, getitoutgetitoutgetitout

Trembling fingers reach for the hilt. But before he can drag it out another wave of magic hits. He screams, grip on his own spell loosening. He clambers to grasp it again, slips, falls. The cloak retreats into his pouch.

“There you are,” the woman hisses.

The ground bucks beneath his feet.

The desperate spark of hope that had blossomed in Legend’s chest shatters completely. And he falls along with it, colliding with the ground with skull-shattering force. 

Stars explode in his vision, bursting in eruptions of blinding, electric lights. Somewhere, past the roar filling his ears and head, past the thundering pound of his heart, Legend hears Twilight’s growl.

Nails clatter over the ground. Seconds later, a heavy object slams into the floor beside him, whimpers, and goes terribly limp.

Panic splits through the agony and confusion. Legend curls his hands into fists, blinking furiously in an attempt to see straight again.

Come on. Get up. Fight before they kill you both.

He grasps the dagger, yanks it out. His limbs scream as they move. Blood splatters onto the floor, creating large puddles of greenish-maroon. He tastes the tang of iron, the bite of bile, and…something else. It seems to emanate from him, a strange, vile thing. Tasteless, yet disgusting; icy, yet flaming hot. 

Legend shudders, suddenly nauseated. But he hefts his sword more firmly in his grip and turns to face the woman. 

“You are a strong one, boy,” she says, face splitting in a leering grin. “That dosage should have killed someone your size, instantly. Yet, here you are.” 

“What can I say?” The words are slurred. Legend stumbles as he steps forward, struggling to see past the blur the room is quickly becoming. “I’m full of surprises.”

He thinks the woman’s grin grows larger. But maybe that is only one of the illusions his eyes are forcing upon him. Either way, he hears her words quite clearly.

“I’m certain of it. Not to worry, though. You’ll be dead soon enough.” She nods to the men that have gathered around her. “Go. Get what is rightfully mine.”

They start forward. Legend grits his teeth and steps back toward where Twilight lies, still twitching from the effects of the spell that had hit him. 

“Just try and touch him,” Legend growls. “Know that spell that blew your friends sky high? There’s more where that came from.”

For a split second, there is the slightest glimmer of fear in their eyes. But then the ground dives down, down, down beneath his feet. Pain streaks through his head, as though someone has driven a stake through his skull.

Legend pitches forward and vomits.

Laughter assaults his ears as he fights to compose himself. Darkness tinges the edges of his vision. Oblivion beckons him. 

Let go, it whispers. It doesn’t hurt here. 

He bats it away, steels himself, straightens. Blood and bile dribble down his chin, and he doesn’t bother to wipe them away.

“Give up,” one man orders between barking chuckles. “You’re already dead.”

Legend lists to the side and grins, all sharp, blood-tinged teeth. 

“Not yet, I’m n-not.”

Magic streaks through constricted veins, scraping as it goes. With an agonized scream, he sends it forward. The room lights up with streaks of greenish light. 

He crumples in the wake of it, choking on a mouthful of blood, dragging thin gasps of air through failing lungs. His stomach heaves again, desperate to rid itself of the poison his heart pumps through him. But there is nothing for it to expel. 

Agony holds him in an iron-fisted grip, turning his limbs stiff and immovable, making his head spin and pound. The darkness claims more of his sight. Still, he battles it. 

He has to stay awake — for Twilight’s sake, for his own. He’s made it this far. He’ll be damned if he gives up now.

Cackles reach his ears. Slowly, he lifts his head.

The fallen bodies of his enemies lie strewn about, still smoldering. The sight brings bile back into his throat. He hates killing, no matter what the deceased people might have done. And yet, there had been no other choice. 

The woman, however, seems to have come out relatively unscathed. 

Shielding spell, Legend’s mind so helpfully supplies. A harsh curse bubbles out from between bloodied lips. 

“You truly are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

A bolt of electric power collides with his chest. Legend goes flying, hits a stack of crates, and collapses. His breath is merely a wheeze now, though he can’t tell if that’s from the poison or the broken bone currently skewering his lung. 

Both, probably. 

The woman advances. Legend tries to sit up and fails. His entire body is on fire now. Shudders wrack him. Everything smells of blood and vomit and poison. The room spins like a leever; his surroundings blur like smudged charcoal.

He coughs and more greenish-red hits the floor.

“I would keep you, you know. To examine and experiment on. But it seems the poison has already done irreversible damage.” 

A flick of a finger and Legend is propelled upwards. Seconds later, he hits the floor again with an earth-shattering crack. 

The pain of broken bones joins all else. He thinks he screams. He can’t be certain. 

He knows that he can’t breathe anymore. All his lungs are capable of are paltry, wheezing attempts. He’s suffocating, drowning in blood and poison. He’s back on the sea, battling against waves taller than Hyrule Castle, fear growing stronger with each one that floods the deck of his little boat.

“I see no reason to spend precious power on saving your life. Perhaps, you can save yourself. I doubt it though. After the spells you cast, you likely don’t have enough magic left within you to heal a nicked finger.”

She is right upon him now, presence smothering. Legend blinks, slowly. Everything feels very, very far away. If he releases his grip now, will he plummet? Or will everything simply fade away, leaving him to float on waves of grayish nothingness? Empty. Alone. 

Maybe it will feel better then, being unattached, emotionless. Maybe…maybe it won’t hurt so very much…

Fire screams in his veins, burning muscle and flesh and bone, devouring his insides. Blood fills his throat. His breath rattles in his veins. A tear slides down Legend’s cheek. Its icy touch is almost soothing. 

His grip on something resembling consciousness slips. He tries to inhale again. His lungs do not expand to fill his foggy request. 

The last thing he sees before his eyes flutter closed is a wolf leaping forward and closing its jaw around the woman’s neck.

She shrieks, blood spurts, and it all goes dark.

….

“...end! Legend!”

Protesting eyes flutter open, beckoned by a voice he knows. Sharp, gray-blue eyes gaze down at him from a pale face streaked with crimson. 

“Ra-ranch–”

Legend drags in a wheezing breath and chokes on the word. Twilight holds him closer, nudging his sweat-soaked bangs aside.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”

A calloused hand encases his frigid one. Legend tries to squeeze it. But his muscles won’t cooperate. Everything still burns. He yearns for the darkness to cover him again. He yearns to not feel.

Are you okay? Is what he means to say.

“Hurts,” is all that comes out.

Twilight’s expression shatters. There are tear streaks on his cheeks, the veteran realizes, dimly. They shouldn’t be there.

“I know, buddy.” The world shifts and Legend squeezes his eyes shut against it. Something cold and smooth presses to his lips. “Drink this. It’s all I’ve got but it’s enough to keep you alive.”

Bittersweet silk slides down his throat. Obediently, Legend swallows it. It soothes all the way down, knitting bones and flesh back together, nudging the wrongness out of his veins. 

Not completely. Not even close. But it’s something, and Legend is grateful for it.

“Okay?” Twilight asks, and the veteran offers a jerky nod. “Alright, then I’m gonna get you out of here.”

Again, his surroundings tip. Legend swallows against the urge to vomit.

“No,” he croaks in a barely audible whisper, “…I-I was ‘posed to get y-you outta here.”

The world begins to move like the endlessly churning walkways he had endured in the dungeons of Koholint. His head bumps against something wonderfully soft, and he leans into it. A heartbeat drums softly in his ears.

“‘M sorry.” 

It is merely a sigh. Twilight hears it anyway.

“It’s okay, vet,” he assures him, as thick darkness envelopes him again. “You did great. You saved me.

“Now, let me save you.”

Somewhere in the fuzz of oncoming unconsciousness and potion and pain, Legend has the urge to laugh.

Save him? He’s the veteran of hero business. He shouldn’t need saving.

But the heart keeps beating like a distant drum; and the softness drags him into it, tickling his nostrils and caressing his face; and the arms that hold him remain steady even as the world churns like waves on the sea. And before long Legend is gone, adrift once more in an abyss of blessed oblivion.