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solbaby7 · 9 months ago

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Tainted

pairing: pervy!az x innocent!reader

warnings: sexual themes, mild pervy az (nothing crazy just mentions of stealing your clothes), swearing, prolly some typos, don’t judge I’m ovulating

summary: Liquid courage coupled with the burning desire to lose your V card—the perfect combo for a perving spymaster.

—

“Azriel.”

His knees nearly buckle at the sound of his name breathily huffing off your pouty mouth, lips swollen from the teeth harshly biting into them to hide the pathetic noises spilling free from such fleeting touches but your body was on fire.

Ignited by Azriel’s skillful exploration of your body pressed against his after he’d snatched you away before you could retire to your own bedchambers for the night. A few glasses of wine and a ridiculous amount of gossip with Mor and Fey later and you were shoved up against his door with his lips pressing kisses down the length of your neck. “Yes?”

“Please, need more.”

Countless nights spent imagining the sound of you begging for him with his fist wrapped around the stiff length of his cock, beads of precum dripping down for the perfect amount of slick but nothing his mind conjured up would ever compare to the real thing. Your hands grabbing at the scaled texture of his fighting leathers, the holsters keeping daggers and blades close to his person and within reach. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, sweetheart?”

There’s no room for embarrassment about your astounding lack of knowledge when it came to sex but you knew when things felt good—and Azriel’s hands grazing down the slope of your shoulders, fingers teasing over the shape of you when they drag down your sides felt fucking incredible. Even if he was trying to reduce you to some idiot; something that couldn’t be further from the truth. It was the whole reason you were brought into the Night Court in the first place. Rhysand had personally housed you, showed you his city and its people before confessing that he needed far more help with the political duties; someone to sort through the mountain of awaiting paperwork that required a watchful eye and careful decision making skills. Someone to sort the books and keep tabs on the items that usually went missing without second thought with so much fucking space to spare in the manor and Tarquin had mentioned you as a sort of peace offering to soothe over the blood ruby incident.

Four months had passed and the others had visibly noticed the improvement in Rhysand; less tense, more willing to disappear for hours with his High Lady. His absence left room for the shadowsinger to acquire a bit of an attraction to you—if he described it lightly.

One whiff of the white sage and vanilla that perpetually lingered on your skin and he was hooked. Vying for any reason to be stuck in the same room with you, shadows reporting back your every move from the second you’d open your eyes to the moment you closed them for bed.

Maybe, it was a little overbearing but even a thousand years couldn’t dim the possessive streak in his Illyrian blood.

“I’m asking for you,” The wine was giving you more confidence than you could’ve dreamed of without the liquid courage. “Do you understand that? I can spell it out if that’s more helpful.”

“That mouth of yours is what got you here in the first place,” Azriel’s voice is low and gravely, chest rising and falling with the anticipation of getting you out of your clothes. “Remind me again what it was you were saying back there with the girls?”

Your stomach clenches with need when he sucks marks down the length of your neck, across your collarbones and atop the flesh of your breasts that practically spills from the dress you wear. “Old age getting to you, spymaster?” The hole you dig is deep and there’s no way you’ll be pulling yourself out without help but that doesn’t seem to be a good enough reason to think before speaking. Something about how fucking hot Azriel got when he had a point to prove. “Are you sure you’ll even be able to get it up?”

It’s utter bullshit.

He’s been rutting his hard cock against the silky material of your skirts, fingerprints bruising their mark into your flesh as he battled the primal instinct to turn you around, bend you over and fuck you loud enough for everyone in the whole house to hear. The husky laugh that rumbles in your ear, broad chest vibrating against the swell of your breasts and the friction of him so close is torturous when he teases about—touching but not really giving anything. “I’ve dreamed about stuffing my cock down your throat just to shut you up,” You’re pliant in the skilled hands that lift you clean off the glossy floors and it’s instinctual the way your legs wrap around his waist.

His mouth is finally on your own, something you’d dreamed about. Not that you’d ever admit it—his ego would burst from the seams. “Should I go find a candle to light over a sweet treat? Maybe the Mother will grant you a birthday wish early.” You’re all talk, grasping for the strings of control that are gradually getting farther and farther away when he cuts off another smartass remark with a kiss so bruising you moan.

This.

This is what you’d been yearning for.

The girls hadn’t been nearly as thorough in their explainations as your books were but that could’ve been blamed on the wine bottles that started appearing on the table a much quicker pace. If you’d have known Azriel was lurking around the shadows then maybe you would have been more conscious about the words you used; the pitiful confessions of being so sheltered growing up and how you’d barely done anything past second base. “You could save yourself the trouble and just repeat what you said.”

“I said,” You teeth nipped at the plush of his bottom lip, pulse pounding in your ears when his hands work their way under your skirts, and up, up, up until there’s nothing but damp cloth blocking the warmth of this skin from reaching yours. “—that I just wanted to get properly fucked.”

A shiver runs down Azriel’s spine at the way the words are whispered in his ear and it only spurs his fingers to rub perfect circles on your clit through the fabric. He would’ve made a hundred bargains just to hear you swear like that again; breathier—more high pitched.

There was no way he could ever let you go now.

Not after he’d gotten his mouth on you—tasted your skin. He’d never be able to smell white sage and vanilla again without his cock swelling obnoxiously in his pants. His mind was already thinking of ways to make sure your scent never left his sheets. “Are you sure?” You pull away just barely an inch, eyes almost crossing when looking into his own with such want.

“I’m sure, Az.” Any other day you’d let your heart swell at his need for permission before continuing but the primal lust that rages between your thighs, arousal dripping and the sticky sounds your pussy makes when Azriel dips two fingers under sodden undergarments.

Keening whines and heavy pants, the ripping of expensive fabrics and the husky promise to buy a replacement and ten times that if you were good for him. “So much prettier than I imagined.” You sink into the plush of his mattress, body bare save for the jewelry and even like this you can’t reign in snark of your tongue.

“Just pretty? The males in my books are much more descriptive.”

Azriel laughs against your chest, body hovering over your own and—Gods, if only you could bottle his laugh and save it for when the skies went cloudy and grey. “Stunning.” A suckle on one hardened nipple, golden gaze more feral than friendly but you arch into it all the same. As long as it was him. “Captivating.” You’d known the spymaster was capable of torture but surely you’d underestimated the extent of his care. “Absolutely breathtaking.” The effort he put into learning every inch of you before even daring to do more, easing away any lingering tension until you were preening under the compliments and clawing at hem of his shirt to feel more. “I must be getting somewhere.”

“Not fast enough if you’re not inside me yet.”

“Impatient thing, you are.” Dark hair falls over his forehead, thick arms bracing on either side of your head as he frees himself from his pants. “I just want to take my time.”

“I’d say I’ve waited long enough,” Azriel’s pants aren’t fully down and you use that to your advantage when curling your fingers into the loops of his pants and tug him closer. Too much time had been spent on friendly conversation when the connection between the two of you was clearly anything but. “I’m not above begging.”

He doesn’t need syllables strung together to profess the way the things you say affect him. It shows in the way he holds you impossibly close, the achingly hard length of him sliding between slick folds as full lips mould to yours like they’d been made to do so. “Another night.” Promises forged with tongues and desperate hands grabbing at every inch of bare skin; the touch so branding you pull away gasping for air. It gets caught in your throat when he finally pushes in and the brief burn from the stretch is momentary when he distracts you so perfectly. “Fuck,” Every muscle tenses as Azriel fights every urge to spill his load from the fit alone; tight and warm, greedy hips wiggling as you whine for more. “Stop moving or this will be over much faster than either of us want it be.”

“I don’t care.” Half-lidded eyes clouded with need stare into his own, small hands tracing the curves of his tattoos; nails raking trails down the ridges of his abdomen as you buck your hips to his own. “We have all night—just move.”

Azriel’s cautious at first, trying not to hurt you but he doesn’t have the self-control to keep the gentlemanly act up for long. Not with you holding him in a vice-grip, wrapping around the thick length of him like you were made to. Spurred on by your moans he goes faster, unleashing the reigns on the shadows just thrumming with the desire to spill forward and assist. “Yes, yes, yes,” You chant in his ear, thighs wrapping around his hips and pride swells with the praise. “Fuck Az, right there.”

Skin slapping against skin, low grunts and breathy moans; the feeling of his cock filling you full and rubbing against every spot you never knew existed until every nerve was lit ablaze. It happens so quickly, the clench of your stomach, nails biting at his back so close to the base of his wings he can’t hold back the choked sound he lets out when you clamp down around him, walls fluttering with your release.

It takes no more than a few thrusts for him to reach the same fate, slowly riding it out as his soul came back to his body. “That was—“

You’re already nodding along; cheeks flushed, gaze a little hazy and Azriel relaxes into the gentle touches that follow after he’s settled beside you. “—yeah.” He pulls you in closer, strong arms holding you tight and he’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head when you speak. “Better than sneaking in my room at night to jerk off with my panties?”

His cheeks burn and he’s more than grateful that your face is tucked beneath his chin because he’s certain he looks like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “What? No, well…I can explain—wait, you knew?”

A soft laugh, nose full on the scent of him. “I’m a light sleeper and after a while you started getting a little sloppy.” His leg shifts under the thick duvet, slotting between your own and when solid thigh makes contact with bare cunt, the hunger you’d thought had been satiated was shuffling back into starvation. “Speaking of which,” All it takes is one firm rock of your hips for you to feel the twitch of his cock against your leg. “—you’ve got enough in you for a little more?”

Azriel pulls you from his neck to plant a claiming kiss on your mouth, a rumbling noise clawing from his throat when he guides you to continue the rocking of your hips. “I’m offended you’d even ask.”

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capitanology · 2 months ago

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partially through (to you) | blade x reader

synopsis: in which you had long left everything behind to pick up the remnants of your tattered life and rebuild it after the tragedy of losing yingxing, which you barely managed to do, just for your past to appear in front of you once again in the worst way possible—in the form of your ex-lover, who you now know as blade

content warning: descriptions of blood/injuries, some inconsistencies for blade/yingxing's lore, likely inaccurate depiction of high-cloud quintet + their lore, reader is not part of the hcq (just close enough as friends), long-life species reader (?), timeline is a bit messy (i focused too much on blade and reader sorry), might be ooc for jing yuan (not sure how he was during the hcq era), prolly ooc blade😭, angst, some comfort, that's all :D

word count: 6.1k

the patter of the raindrops made a soothing melody for your ears. staring listlessly at the window, taking in the sight of the darkened streets and heavy rainfall, your mind wandered without rest. it was mostly reflective thoughts; the conversation you had with the shopkeeper aunt this morning, how the tea you made could've tasted a little bit better, the small greeting exchanged with the new neighbour that just moved in. it flows and flows, until you let your guard down. and that's when it catches you—your past.

come to think of it, isn't the night the same as that day from a long time ago, where you were left behind by none other than him?

—

the harsh downpour raged on the outside, rivalling the tense atmosphere within your abode, a place that used to be so comforting and welcoming, changing with yingxing's behaviour ever since the death of his beloved friend. you recalled how he had become, eyes losing their light and shoulders heavy with the burden of a survivor. he was mourning, and despite knowing him like the back of your hand, this was the first time you were stumped on what to do with the little that you had to offer in terms of support.

how do you give him comfort?

how do you help him grieve?

you tried though, again and again, no matter the countless times it went unappreciated. yet the distance remained vast between the two of you, each action of comfort you gave brushed off without a second thought, as if he wished nothing more than to be alone. so that's what you gave him—time and space, which you were beginning to regret doing when you came home to his figure standing tall within the dim living room, as if prepared to leave.

your heart sinks at the sight, as if knowing that wherever he's about to go, you won't see him ever again.

"yingxing," you breathed out, tired and weary.

your body still aches from a tough day at work, yet it didn't compare to the weight on your chest at the thought of losing him, the one who had carved himself a home right by your side.

"do you have plans to go somewhere?"

it was a futile question. you and him both know that, but you wanted nothing more than for your thoughts to remain just that, thoughts, and not reality. but life wasn't as kind to you as yingxing was when he first saved you from your enemies, and his next few words brought your fears to actuality.

"...there's somewhere i have to go with dan feng," his tone was subdued, as if drained from everything. "i won't be returning."

it was all so...appalling that you couldn't help letting out a laugh of disbelief, incredulity etched onto your face. the hold you have on your grocery bag tightened further, its bamboo handle cutting into your palm. the slight sting made you ground yourself to reality, trying to capture the turmoil of emotions he put you through with just two sentences.

"stop it, please," your voice became too ladled with emotion, making you choke on one that became too prominent–despair. "yingxing, don't do this to me."

it was laughable at how pathetic you had become, begging for your own lover to not walk out on you to instead chase after a fleeting memory of an old friend. but you knew your yingxing, and of how he would do anything to alleviate the guilt and grief that he carries from the incident that broke the high-cloud quintet apart. to redeem himself for letting a beloved companion meet her death despite being there.

your gaze remained pleading, searching his face desperately to look at you once again just like how he used to.

yet his indifferent expression didn't change, not even as he picked up his remaining items and walked closer to you, the last obstacle in his way to achieving his final wish.

"i'm sorry."

"no, you aren't."

your eyes became blurry with unshed tears, not willing to fall apart in front of him, but his next few words pulled at what little resistance you had and left you in tatters.

"i am."

his hand reached out, cupping your face with a delicate touch, so reminiscent of how he used to do before he distanced himself. the pad of his thumb lightly brushed the tears under your eye, and you could only drown yourself in the fleeting warmth that was soon bound to disappear.

"there's nothing else i can say that would make this sin of mine lighter. so please," his voice fell into a whisper, breaking halfway. "don't forgive me."

"yingxing, no—"

without giving you time to make sense of his words, his figure disappeared just as you called out his name. a brief sensation of his lips against your forehead was the last thing you felt. as you blinked, reality setting in of how he was no longer here, of how he left you, you feel your world shattering.

sorrow etched itself deeply into your bones, your body heavy to even move from where you stand. your home, once warm with his presence, became hollow, leaving you to wallow in your emotions.

somewhere, deep inside the little cavern of your heart, you wonder; why were you so easily discarded for a person who's buried six deep under?

—

there were talks when he was first banished from xianzhou. rumours floated by here and there, speaking of how he was a traitor, a sinner, who deserved death rather than this act of mercy to let him live, despite being cast out of the place he had built a home with the high-cloud quintet...and with you.

perhaps it was best that throughout all the time you two were together, your relationship was kept under wraps, only ever revealed in front of his close companions and yours. this means that all these rumours and stories mostly targeted the two of them—dan feng and the other, him—but as you sit in the teahouse, trying to nurse your wounded heart after cooping up in the house for weeks, if not months (you didn't keep track of how long you spent crying, wailing, grieving), the small flame of anger at these clueless people whose mouths only knew how to regurgitate what was being spread rather than form their own opinions only grew. each lash at his dignity, at his honour, deepened your scowl further and the grip on your dainty teacup tightened.

you knew they were right, that he deserved every bit of their criticism and harsh condemnation. yet when the image of his dull eyes and downturned lips overlapped with those of his loving gaze and sweet smiles, your unstable mind was unable to differentiate between who was your lover and who is the traitor that stained the legacy left behind. just as you were about to let your wild thoughts run free and give those gossipers a piece of your mind, a touch to your shoulder jolted you back to reality and the hold made you promptly sit back down in your seat. turning around, your eyes caught sight of gold irises and the familiarity made your heart calm.

"jing yuan," you greeted, letting out a small sigh of relief.

"long time no see," the young man called out your name with a small smile, moving to take the empty seat across from you. "it's been a while since i've last seen you around here."

he isn't wrong. this tea shop was a frequent place you often visited, though it was always accompanied by the presence of your ex-lover, who is now no longer here. you swallowed the trembling breath that nearly escaped at the sudden memory, and instead turned your gaze to your cup in your hands.

"yeah," you mumble, thumbing the edges of the cup. "i wasn't really feeling well."

"i see. i hope you've gotten better, seeing as you're outside now."

"mhm, yeah."

the conversation was stale, as dry as the far plains you've once visited, but you made no attempts to keep it going. silence prevailed soon after, the weight of the topic jing yuan skirting about remaining in the air. taking your time, you waited for him to confront you with his queries. you didn't have to wait too long though, when he continued talking shortly after.

"well, i'm sorry if this is intruding, but i wanted to ask how you were doing after..." he nodded his head to a direction, as if to point at the past.

"...not okay," the lump in your throat returned at his words, no matter how you've steeled yourself to answer them without being affected by your emotions. "it's been quite some time since he left, but it feels as though it was yesterday."

jing yuan kept quiet, letting your words sink in. he glanced at the dimming sky, white clouds decorating the falling sunset, and despite how peaceful it looked, he knew of the unrest that still remained in both yours and his hearts.

"i agree," he breathed out, reaching across to give a pat to your shoulder. "the punishment given to him had to be as heavy as the sin he made, and i'm sorry things had to end this way."

his words brought you a great sense of comfort after having to deal with these conflicting emotions on your own all this while. the corner of your lips rose at his attempt to reassure you and you gave him a small nod.

"thank you for saying that. i appreciate it, jing yuan."

taking one of the unused cups, you lifted the teapot and poured him some tea, seeing how this conversation seemed to run on. for the first time, you felt relieved to have someone to talk to.

"but it must've been hard for you too," you offered the tea, to which he graciously accepted and took a sip. "he was your old friend after all. losing him...losing all of them mustn't have been easy."

he let your words linger, letting his gaze fall to the steaming cup.

"yes, it wasn't," his lips quirked up as he said so, gaze now returning to you. "but the path of life goes on. there is nothing i can do to rewind to the days left behind, so the only thing i—no, we—can do is to keep moving forward."

"let them live in our memories, and let us live carrying those memories."

now, you wished you could say that your interaction with him ended there on a light note, but it was nothing of the sort. instead, you walked home in a daze, recalling the words towards the end of the conversation.

—

"ah, however i just wanted to let you know," he downed his tea in one go, leaving behind a clean cup, just as how he's coming clean to you about the details of yingxing's situation. "the outcome of the incident that occurred left him to face unsavoury consequences."

"unsavoury consequences?" you frowned, mind reeling at the implications of his statement before it came to a conclusion. "you don't mean..."

"yes," jing yuan's gaze became heavy, solely focusing on you. "it means that he's now an immortal being, most likely mara-struck."

the revelation left you weak in the knees, and you’re thankful that you’re sitting down. the shock left you speechless for a few moments, eyes locked on his, as if wanting him to retract the statement and reassure you that it was just a joke made in the humor of the situation. but knowing jing yuan, he would never use this moment to talk about such things lightheartedly. the look in his eyes confirmed your thoughts.

throat dry and lips chapped, you pushed down the rising emotions as best as you can.

"are you saying that he's completely changed?" your words came out breathless, subdued. "that he's become a completely different being, species, roaming out there as a whole new person?"

incredulity laced your words and despite not meaning to make jing yuan the target of your sorrow and resentment, you unconsciously raised your voice. at his surprised look, you realised what you had done and promptly cleared your throat.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to yell at you. i lost my composure," you apologised, instead turning to look at your now cold tea.

"it's alright. i understand it's heavy news."

you were glad he took graciously to your screw up, but it still left you feeling guilty.

"with him having the possibility of being mara-struck, does that mean his memories..." your words drifted off, as if thinking of that particular outcome was painful enough.

when you lifted your head to look at jing yuan, you were met with eyes conveying pity and a deep sense of despondency.

"yes, it's likely that a majority of his memories will be lost."

—

you bit your lips harshly as you remembered his words. somehow, a strange sense of anger rose and this time, the recipient of your fury was not jing yuan but rather the image of your ex-lover in your mind.

look at you now, yingxing.

house in sight, you walked even faster, wanting nothing more than to let go of this tension, of this wrath that seized your heart. your hands grappled the handle of your door messily to open it, kicking off your shoes in a haphazard manner.

in the end, what happened?

emotions ran through your entire being, overlapping and intermingling with each other that you didn't even know what you were feeling at this point. the moment you walked through the door to your empty home, memories of the past consumed you and it was the final strike to your already declining self control. all composure was lost and you grabbed the first thing in sight to throw it across the room.

losing your memories, losing your humanity, banished to the vast lands and not being able to return to the place you once called home.

fury rushed through your veins, burning away anything and everything that you had in mind except for the resentment that remained prominent through it all.

you left everything behind, just to end up like this?!

it was all pointless, you think. that the thought of resurrecting your dead friend should've just remained a naive dream, not meant to be attempted.

the crash of the picture frame you had thrown resounded throughout the dark room, a wake up call from your drowning emotions. the belated regret of throwing such a precious item crushed your conscience and you immediately rushed over to where the picture laid amongst the shattered glass and splintered frame. it was turned upside down, and when you lifted it, what greeted you felt like a blow to your already fragile heart.

the smiling faces of six individuals, amongst which was you. it was taken a long, long time ago, when yingxing had decided to reveal you to his dear companions and the nature of your relationship. you remembered their reactions, of how shocking it was to see ‘the arrogant man actually have someone tolerate him’ (jingliu's words, not yours), and how they had taken a picture as a memento, at the courtesy of baiheng.

you remembered how she had pushed it into your hands, a grin on her lovely face with eyes that sparkled in the overhead sun.

"just for you," she had said. "you're now one of us!"

her voice was clear in your head, and when it receded into the past, so did the memory and you were brought back into reality. the first few drops of tears fell out of your eyes onto the delicate photo, blurring your vision, followed by another few stray tears before turning into a sob. it was disorientating, to have your emotions flipped back and forth in a fickle manner, but you couldn't help it.

you already had known it all along, yet you were lost in your sorrow for yingxing that you remained stubborn to see the truth; that it wasn't pointless to do such a thing, even if it ended in failure. grief steers people to do as they see fit, and if you were in his place, perhaps the thought of reviving your dead friend didn't seem like such a naive thing after all. if it was him they had lost, you would most likely be in yingxing's place by now.

the resentment still lingers, now a small spark amongst the other waves of sorrow and agony. this was the reality you had to face, where you were left to cry your heart out at the unfairness of life, of how you had everything ripped away from you without a second thought.

and most of all, you longed for yingxing, who is now roaming around as a stranger in a dead man's body.

—

the whistling kettle resounding through your home brought you back to reality and almost immediately, you scrambled to switch the stove off less you have a fire incident in your home. shaking your head, you attempted to clear any lingering thoughts of the past.

that was it. the past is the past, and you shouldn't dwell on it any longer.

that's what you had resolved on, up until you heard a thump and a groan at the back of your house, and upon checking it out, you were met with a very unexpected sight.

—

out of the countless scenarios you've played in your mind, this isn't the scene you had envisioned. an injured yingxing—no, blade, slumped against the eroding alley walls in the middle of the night. although you were standing at a distance, umbrella sheltering you from the rain, you noticed how his arm kept a tight hold around his abdomen, as if clamping down on a wound, and judging from the red staining his hand, you knew your hunch was right.

after imagining how your reunion would go for so many years, it was quite laughable at how anticlimactic it is, really. presented with the situation, there was no yelling, or fights, or anything of the sort. it was...quiet; just you, him and the breathless pants that he gave from his injury. a pang of momentary disappointment hit you but you quickly shook away the unnecessary thoughts, focusing on him instead.

the rain kept its incessant fall, never ceasing its harsh droplets across his skin. it made him look all the more ethereal somehow, the water highlighting the features you've forgotten all these while. bitterness filled you at the sight, of how he's a stranger yet so reminiscent of the man you've been longing for, no matter how many times you tried to bury your feelings.

your mind was conflicted on how to approach him, tongue heavy to even call out his name. perhaps it was better to pretend to have seen nothing, letting him nurse his injury by himself since he can't die after all.

it will only make things complicated if you offer help, right? and besides, the probability of him accepting it is low, so what's the point of making life difficult for yourself?

but then he moved to stand straight, shakily lifting himself up just to collapse yet again with a pained groan, eyes closing. and despite not wanting to get involved, your resolve weakened at the sight.

"hey, are you okay?" you called out hesitantly, gripping your umbrella tighter.

it took your breath away when his eyes snapped open at your voice, the familiar yet so unfamiliar hue of red locking onto yours. wariness was prominent in his gaze and his body tensed up more than it already has, as if prepared to strike at any moment.

you swallowed the trembling breath at his action and instead nod towards his injury.

"you're hurt. you need to get treatment before it worsens."

the glare on his face deepened at your words, annoyance flashing in his eyes.

"there's no need," blade spat, grating your ears with how blunt his words are. "leave me be."

you knew that your attempt to help would be denied but it did sting a little for him to reject it without taking a moment to think about it. what surprised you further was the wave of disappointment that washed over you at his words, despite you not expecting a positive reaction from him.

because it confirmed your fears—that he forgot you.

since you already decided to intervene however, you would rather rather see it through then give up after just the first try.

"as much as i want to do that, i'm afraid i'm not fond of strangers dying at the back of my own home," you replied, lips set in a straight line. "just get treated so you're not at the risk of bleeding out on the streets."

blade clicked his tongue, frustration building at how persistent you’re turning out to be.

"whether my life ends here or anywhere else, it does not concern you. now, leave before my patience runs out."

his threat made you pause in your steps, doubt rising as you weighed your next action. yet you decided to push through anyway, walking closer to where he was.

"then take it as my conscience being burdened. i can't enjoy my tea in peace knowing there's someone out there bleeding to death."

your words stunned him into silence, as if not comprehending the absurdity of it. you took that chance to close the distance, positioning yourself so that the umbrella now covers the both of you. it might be a pointless act since he was already soaked to the bone, but his lack of reaction tells you that he probably didn't mind it too much.

"i can treat your wound. or if you prefer to be sent to a medical facility, i can also—"

"there's no need for the hassle to go that far," blade grunted out, cutting your words short. his glare remained, falling onto you as if to warn you from approaching any further as he shifted in place.

seeing that he was getting ready to get up, you moved backwards to give him ample space. however, the moment he managed to stand straight, his body swayed back and forth unceremoniously. just as blade was about to fall back again, your hand reached out to grab his elbow without warning, trying to help him balance himself. almost reflexively, his arm shoved you away with a harsh push.

your palm stings from his blunt action, a small gasp stuck in your throat at the unexpected pain. immediately, shame washed all over you at what just transpired, and you only kept silent at the sudden tense atmosphere. plucking up your barely existing courage, you let out a small apology.

"sorry, i shouldn't have grabbed you so suddenly. i was just trying to catch you."

blade remained quiet for a few moments, taking his time to look at you before gritting out a small ‘it's fine’. he shifted once again, getting ready to move. before he could, you stopped him.

"then can i help you walk?" you spoke, glancing at his unsteady figure. "i''ll just hold your arm as support."

"...fine."

"okay," you nodded, moving to grab hold of his other arm while trying to still cover the both of you from the rain. "let's go then."

as you focused on guiding him to your home, you failed to notice the lingering gaze at your side.

by right, blade shouldn't have agreed so easily to your words. it was a naive thing, he thought. to offer aid to an injured stranger on the streets, in the middle of the night no less. even more so when you insisted, despite him refusing multiple times. if it was any other person, perhaps blade might have already silenced them with their persistent attitude.

yet somehow you're different.

he didn't know whether it was your mannerisms, or your actions, or you yourself, but everything about you feels so familiar. as if he had known you for a long time before. it was on the tip of his tongue—he could feel it—the reason for these unknown emotions currently swirling around in the depths of his own heart that he once thought could never feel anymore. yet, as he ransacked the empty chambers of his own memories, not once could he find you in them.

just who are you to evoke such feelings?

his question remained unanswered as you reached the door of your house, where you swiftly brought him inside without much hassle. guiding him to your sofa, you watched as he sinks into the cushion with a groan of relief, water seeping from his clothes into the soft material. you ignore the little voice nagging at you from how he most likely ruined your seat and instead turned to find the first aid kit and a towel.

“wait here.”

as you disappear from the living room to somewhere in the house, blade took a glance at the little space you call your home. it was cozy, with the way you had arranged the furniture to make it all come together. the patterned curtains and flowers decorated here and there made it all the more livelier, driving in the notion of how homely it was. somehow, the sight made his heart clench with an unrecognisable sense of nostalgia, to which blade wrinkled his nose.

it was a foreign feeling for someone like him, who had lived knowing only vengeance and hatred.

to long for something; is this what it feels like?

his thoughts were interrupted when you returned, hands full of items. passing him a towel, you let him busy with drying himself as you prepared the necessary things to treat his injury. within the silence, it was somehow comforting to just exist in the company of each other.

"you'll need to take off your clothes," you spoke once you’re done, glancing at him as he stopped drying his hair. "i need to see your wound."

blade could only stare at you for a few moments, briefly frowning before looking away, shifting to remove his clothes. as he discarded the clothing, your eyes take in the view of his exposed figure, catching the multiple scars that covered the majority of his upper body.

the sight made you tighten your hold on the gauze that you prepared, heart clenching at the thought of how painful it must have been for him to bear all of these scars. at the battles he must've fought, facing life and death, and of course, being mara-struck.

"is there a problem?"

his voice made you snap out of your thoughts, and you shook your head.

"no, there isn't. i'll start now."

your hands moved to clean the wound with practised ease, as if you've done this countless times before. it made him wonder if you faced situations like this before, and perhaps that's why it made sense that you so easily offered to help a stranger like him.

though the thought of you helping anyone other than him, in this intimate manner where you remained close enough for him to feel your warmth, made him grit his teeth.

why does it feel so unpleasant to think of such a thing?

and why does it feel so pleasant to have you pay such close attention to him, attending to his needs?

the delicate touch skimming along his skin left goosebumps in its wake, making his focus fall onto you at the sensation. at this angle, he couldn't see your face, just the bundle of messy hair that his hands itched to run through. somehow in this moment, blade wanted nothing more than to see your expression as you cleaned and stitched him up.

how do you look like when you focused so deeply on nothing but on your work? will you frown in concentration, or bite your lips in frustration? or will you remain calm, knowing you're able to fix the situation with ease?

these thoughts were unfamiliar to him and at the same time, your actions aren't.

the way you wrapped the bandage around his abdomen with so smoothly, ensuring that it wasn't too tight or too loose, and how you cleaned his bleeding wound without exchanging a single word, not questioning the stranger who appeared in the deserted streets with nothing but a damaged body and vengeance running through his veins. how there was little awkwardness lingering in the air, and as time runs and silence settles, a distant sense of comfort takes hold of his already aching body.

his mind ran with so many thoughts of you, to the point that the familiar feeling of pain had receded into the background. only when you pressed particularly hard did he let out a hiss, making you pause in your actions.

"sorry, did i hurt you?" you bit your lips, worried that you had somehow hurt him even further.

he returned your gaze for a moment before turning his head to the side, having enough of these restless thoughts and foreign emotions. the more he looks at you, the more the turmoil within him worsens.

"it's fine. just finish it."

you glanced at his face, trying to see if you did something wrong but his indifferent expression remained the same. not wanting to breach the sudden tense atmosphere, you quickly finished up wrapping his wound and got up from where you had settled by his side.

"it's done," you spoke as you wiped your bloodstained hands with a spare cloth.

his barely audible grunt of affirmation told you that he heard your words, and silence settles once more, this time a bit heavier. your mind racked on your next course of action as you busied yourself with cleaning up the remnants of the treatment, back facing towards the injured man.

just as your thoughts came to a conclusion, you heard the shifting of clothes and another hiss of pain from behind you. hesitation made your tongue heavy to ask the next question, but your selfishness for wanting to remain in his presence for a little longer override your doubts and you pushed yourself to do so.

it didn't hurt to try, right?

"hey," you start, anticipation running through your veins. "if you need a place to rest, you can—"

"there's no need," his words cut you off without waiting for you to finish speaking. "i will be leaving soon."

well, it definitely hurts to try.

it was a foolish thought, you knew that, and yet you still entertained it. the shame you felt rivalled the ache in your heart at his blunt denial. a metallic taste covers your tongue as you bite your lips hard enough to draw blood, silencing yourself from speaking your thoughts any further. taking in a sharp breath, you nod your head and focus on cleaning up.

the more things you have to do, the less these foolish thoughts will appear.

"...you feel familiar."

those words made you pause, hands clutching onto a cloth dirtied with his blood. you're glad your back is facing him, because you're sure he would've caught the slip in your attempt at maintaining a calm demeanour. your mind was blank, thoughts reeling for a proper response to his statement.

what do you say to that?

that you and him once had your lives intertwined together, making a promise to be each other's one and only until the end of time?

or that you're a remnant of his past that he has discarded and forgotten after committing a taboo so heavy to the point of being banished and losing his memories?

there are so many things you could say, so many truths you could reveal and so many memories you could speak of. but in the end, all you could muster was nothing remotely close.

"perhaps you're misunderstanding something."

there was no need to complicate things further. the only reason you even attempted to offer him a place to rest was purely for your own selfish reasons anyways.

"we've never met before. there's no reason why i should be familiar."

your words hang in the air, making the silence more prominent. at his lack of response, you thought that he had ended the conversation there, since he barely made an attempt at talking all this while. that is until you feel a presence behind your back, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body.

the sudden proximity made you gasp lightly, head turning sideways just to catch the sight of his figure hovering over you. strands of midnight blue tickled the sides of your face as his head bent down slightly. despite him not even touching you, his mere aura made you feel as though you were caged in right in his arms.

"you're lying," he murmured, breath skimming the nape of your neck. "every action of yours tells me that you're hiding something. you refuse to tell the truth. why?"

his prodding at your attempts to deflect his question made you falter, the resolve to keep things to yourself weakening. then you remember the blood that stained your hands and the countless scars across his body, and the urge to spill everything swiftly disappeared.

"because there is no need to," your voice was quiet, a whisper to his ears only. "to the you now, i am no one but a stranger."

"just like you are to me."

it was a lie, but still the truth all the same.

the weight of your words sinks into the atmosphere, a burden on both his and your shoulders. it made him silent for a while, deciphering the meaning behind them.

"you belong to my past, with the person who i was before."

it wasn't a question, but rather a statement. somehow, you can almost feel how bitter he was as he spoke, along with a sense of...longing? before you could dwell on it however, the sudden disappearance of his presence behind you captured your attention and you immediately turned your head back, just to catch sight of him standing by your now opened window.

the rain had stopped by now, only the gentle symphony of crickets being heard instead. you noticed his clothes were already on, despite them being soaked. the fabric seemed to stretch across his body uncomfortably, but it seems that he would keep to his words than wait for them to dry.

"are you leaving immediately without any rest?" you asked, even though you already questioned him of his plans before, just to try and move past the strange exchange you just had.

"there's no need to. it won't make a difference to me."

"...i see."

you gave him a nod and although you didn't want to, you couldn't help the dejection that eats away at your insides from how ready he was to leave. it was conflicting; wanting him to stay due to your past clinging onto your back, yet treating him like a stranger as your present begs you to. a push and pull that you wanted no part in, yet you couldn't leave the position so simply as the person in the center of it all did.

"take care then."

you expected him to leave as soon as you finished speaking, but his figure still remained standing there, bathing under the moonlight. for a moment, everything was still, before he broke it.

"...this meeting was pure coincidence," blade spoke, eyes falling onto you. his gaze roamed the entirety of your face, as if engraving the sight before him into his memory. "but if there comes a day where we cross paths again...do not hide."

"face me, even if my memories fails me to recall this interaction."

perhaps it was your imagination, but somehow, you feel as though his words carried sentiments of yearning and regret. just as you wanted to ask him to elaborate his words, a sudden gust of wind appeared, making your eyes close at how strong it was. when you opened them after, his figure had already disappeared from where he once stood, leaving behind an empty space in both the house and your heart.

as the weight of his departure settled into the room, a wry smile built itself on your lips. this was expected, yet you couldn't help but recall how reminiscent this was to the night he first left, no matter how long ago it was. and the words he spoke before disappearing, the last time and now, still managed to leave behind a never-ending ache in your chest. though this time, his parting words left behind a glimmer of hope that maybe, should you meet again, things would go differently.

as you move to continue cleaning up the remaining clutter, for the first time in a while, you entertained the possibilities of seeing blade once more.

that if you do meet again, perhaps you would tell him of the truth; the past that ties the two of you together, and of everything in between.

a/n: lowkey not proud of this work but i hope it was enjoyable hehe

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #blade x reader #blade x you #blade hsr #hsr angst #honkai star rail angst #honkai star rail #rinnie writes ✩彡

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quirkle2 · 5 months ago

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so one thing i rly like abt mob psycho (shocker !) is that the Incident between the kageyama brothers is kept entirely contained. like, most other shows—at least ones that i've watched—feature long monologues of characters traumadumping to other characters, sometimes in the middle of fights, and while that Does happen a lot in mob psycho, the kageyama bros never do this abt The Incident, and i think that's a fascinating choice bc The Incident is the entire reason why the show starts in the first place. it's the reason mob meets reigen at all, it's the reason mob doesn't fight back against teru, it's the reason ritsu goes through his character arc. it is arguably the Most Important Story Beat and the show has countless opportunities to let the characters spill their guts on screen for drama, and yet neither of the brothers let this spill. neither of them talk about it, except with each other

there's been numerous times i've watched shows where people suddenly traumadump and tell their life story unprompted when truly not a single soul asked, but with mob psycho, both the bros are Constantly berated with questions on Why they do these things; Why are you so off-putting and quiet, Why do you not use your powers, Why won't you fight back, Why do you want psychic powers so badly, Why are you ruining these students' lives now that you have them, Why are you helping me defeat my evil dad . all of these questions eventually loop back around to The Incident, and yet neither of them ever let it slip. neither of them Ever share, and the only time they come anywhere close to it is in the wd arc

it is the event that Shaped Who They Grew Into, and yet it is not known by the main cast at all. teru has no idea, even reigen doesn't seem to understand the full extent of it, even though The Incident is what caused mob to come to his office. their parents prolly don't even know

idk, i just think that's a good detail. the brothers both hold the weight of their troubles close to their chests. and even though that makes it seem as though they figure it out on their own, it couldn't be further from the truth

their own experiences with the people around them allowed them to grow and make mistakes and learn from them, all without sharing their deepest secret, and then both took those new experiences and lessons and applied it to this issue, and learned Again

meanwhile, the rest of the cast is largely clueless abt this Entire issue. it's Crazy to me that most of the cast has no idea what the main issue is, and i think it's a brilliant choice. these characters helped the kageyama bros without ever meaning to or knowing about it, no matter how big or small the role. you truly never know what somebody else is going through !

and even in the end, it's not like there's a big reveal that tells every character the kageyama brothers' Tragic Backstory. nobody fucking knows, still. like Yeah they should totally talk this out and go to therapy or smth but i just like the fact that the story doesn't treat it as some dramatic fanfare for Other Character's Shock Value and doesn't let them air their troubles to the ends of the earth. i appreciate that

#qktalks #mob psycho 100 #shigeo kageyama #mp100 mob #mp100 shigeo #ritsu kageyama #mp100 ritsu #sorry im feeling particularly ill abt this show tonight

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vrachis · 1 year ago

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ATTRACTION. (100 FOLLOWERS SPECIAL.)

—synopsis : the countless times you’ve seen her in many other ways, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from coming back to her over and over again.

characters : yae miko x gn reader.

warnings ; breeding, desk sex, almost getting caught, size kink.

a/n : (omfg. u guys prolly read that one post abt me posting this but yeah, i decided to post it for once! im posting this at night w bad service, SO LOLLLL! dunno if its short or what but hope u guys eat this shi up tho LMAO)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

she could have never looked more pretty. you mean, she was always pretty. beautiful, stunning, and anything else positive used to describe her. she is simply, ethereal.

it’s no wonder that every time you lay your eyes upon her, all the air in your lungs seem to lessen. just because of the sight of a woman as such.

yae miko is someone who is incomparable to others, a woman out of another’s league. everything about her would lure you in, and maybe that was simply her intention.

from her looks to her personality, who wouldn’t fall prey to such charms?

well…

-… you just so happened to have done so.

at that point, you never knew who to blame. why?

well, it was your fault for falling for her schemes, that you’ve simply let yourself fall into her hands. and whatever you do, no matter what, you just seemed to keep going back to her.

as vexatious as it seems, it’s all the worth as long as you get something in return.

and here you thought you would be the only one coming back for more, but miko needed as much as you did.

she ached, and craved, any time she wanted. so as long as she knows she has you, she could never be more satisfied.

—

elicited mewls comes from the woman below you, and sounds of wood creaking violently flows along with the symphony of wet skin colliding with one another. when miko croaks out a gasp, her head falls against the wooden desk, the sheer sweat on her head cascading down to soak the oak.

as you keep a firm grip against her waist, your hips hammer in and out of her at a breakneck pace, your skin slapping against the fat of her ass. you let out a groan as you empty inside her once more, your seed spurting angrily into deep into her womb. you lean down to press a sloppy kiss to her cheek and sigh.

you let yourself finish inside her, and settle with slow thrusts. and as you slightly pull out, the mixture of both your fluids flow from her cunt, the erotic sight of it alone seeming to spur you on. it’s a sight you alone get to see every time you get with her, and you surely couldn’t feel more prideful enough at the thought of it.

“mm, you certainly have no end to your stamina, do you?” miko huffs. and of course she means that sarcastically, this woman loves how rough you can be.

you smirk gleefully. “of course, especially since you’re the one i’m doing.”

your response makes her chuckle weakly. “of course it is, what did i expect. it is me, after all.”

you two exchange a good laugh, until your eyes suddenly flash towards the door, where you see a roaming silhouette of one of the shrine maidens. miko seems to notice it as well, and she shushes you.

“l-lady yae, are you alright in there? i heard loud banging noises coming from here—“ the maiden worries.

“don’t worry about it. clearly just showing my displeasure.” she shakes. “now don’t worry your small little head, inagi. get back to work.”

you could’ve swore you almost let out a laugh on the spot. such a silly excuse, you thought. although… was your fucking not too rough for the maidens to not possibly hear her cries from outside? that couldn’t be possible, you thought. you wanted, no, needed everyone to know what exactly was going on in her office.

so as soon as the shadow of the now terrified maiden was gone, you could only press your weight down on the kitsune, your frame towering over hers as you lean down to nibble on her sensitive ear.

you knew miko could sense something was up from that action you just did. so you feel her squirm under you, her body still slightly shaking but seeming to push you off.

“now what? still rowdy enough to go?” she tests.

you could only hum low in response while you kept orally assaulting her ears, the fluffy parts of her seeming to twitch beneath your lips.

“why aren’t you answering me?” she grumbles. you could tell she was impatient by the time you felt her grinding against your crotch once more, evidently urging you to continue your sessions.

although you want to give it to her, you thought, giving her a little taste of her own medicine wouldn’t hurt, right?

“make sure you better be louder this time. i want them to know what exactly happens in here.”

your response seems to have given her a new wave of excitement, given the fact you feel her grinding getting more sensual, as if it has a mind of it’s own and starts to demand.

“and how exactly do you plan on doing that, mm?” she taunts. you place a finger under your chin, pretend posing as if you were to ponder. what a foolish question to ask, you thought. you thought she would’ve known by now, but it seems she just wants to hear it actually come from you.

but no, you’ve had enough expressing yourself. you’ve said enough words and done enough actions, what more so than to have her voice her needs out instead?

so you smirk, looking down mischievously at the kitsune.

“why don’t we settle for what you want? after all, you’re the one who seems to be aching for something.”

she scoffs at you unbelievably. “do you seriously want me to tell you what exactly i need? look here. you know just what i want, so give it to me. don’t make me say it.”

you sigh exasperatedly. “where’s the fun it that? after all, weren’t you the one aching for me to fuck you earlier? just beg this once, and all of this will continue.”

you hear her grit her teeth from below you, then an annoyed exhale. “fine. but you better stick to your words and listen carefully because i’m never letting you hear this again for the rest of how long you’ll live.”

you chuckle triumphantly. “hah. bring it on.”

#vrachis #kein’s fics.#dom! reader #sub genshin #sub yae miko #yae miko x reader #yae miko smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin yae miko #100 followers special fic.#it was postponed so much omfg sorry yall

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xruiiii-blog · 4 months ago

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hi! Hihihi!! . Just a quick question!! Have you ever drawn little unmasked ghoul designs? I think they'd look really cool in your style!1!1

Hello🖤🖤

I tend to intentionally avoid drawing the actual musicians face if that’s what ur asking. Even tho I do heavily reference their appearance, occasionally personalities...

I love every single one of the musicians! but I prefer the anonymity of ghost lore. That’s just for me with my own art, I love seeing artists draw the unmasked ghouls. Doesn’t matter if it’s the musicians’ face or not they are all so gorgeous and smart designs, pleasant to see!!!

For myself, these will prolly be the heaviest “unmasked” design I’ll ever draw…as for now…⬇️

And these really are just for fun…idont think I’ll draw the ghouls in this style as much as the other ones⬇️

Which also frustrates me cuz I wanna do their modern/daily au/paro SO BAD💀💀💀I have countless head canon about their dailies/modern lifestyle but at the same time I don’t want them to lose their masks…like…I really have to find a way to make it work without make the mask look misplaced/awkward…design still in progress, can’t give up just yet…

Thank you for asking!! This thing stuck in my head for so long glad I had the chance to type it out. Usually I need to write it down to see my thoughts exactly haha. Have a good one!!! :)))❤️❤️

#questions!

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luneariaa · 7 months ago

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✧ reunion.

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : { ps5 } harry osborn x fem! reader.

✰ 𝐰. 𝐜. : 800+

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you and harry finally reunited with the others after some time apart.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : not much proofread + more of a test as to try writing him, harry might seem to be a lil ooc here prolly, random writing. also just pure fluff <33

✰ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : been having a brainrot over him ngl like 💙 -- also, i had to do several researches about the game lmao,, he needs more attention ngl

. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! 🏹

Slowly descending down the stairs, your eyes widened slightly at the mere sight ahead of you. Harry has finally returned after almost a year or so; his back is resting momentarily against the rear of his car, looking quite good as ever. Any other thoughts within you are gone in that moment, having your eyes straight at him.

Countless of thoughts have filled your mind, prompting you to remain still at your current spot as Peter and MJ rushes themselves to hug him, clearly have been missing his presence so much, and so did you. A small, yet tender smile is present on your features upon witnessing such a heartwarming sight.

Harry looks genuinely so happy like this, grinning from ear to ear. It's as if nothing bad has ever existed, even his illness. He's truly back.

When the three finally have finished with their little hugging session, the auburn-haired male finally has his gaze shifted towards you-- slowly beginning to approach your form as you did the same. He never forgets about you either; remembering those times when he got the chance to go on several little outings with you. Harry cherishes those days deeply.

"Hey." He begins with his usual charming smile etched upon his face, clearly directed toward you once he stopped just by a few inches away from your figure.

You returned his expression with a grin of your own, before responding back a "hey," before engulfing him into a tight embrace; one that is a mixture of longing and gratefulness.

He gradually wraps his arms around you as well; one of his hands gently held the back of your head, and the other around your waist with equal emotions being poured into it.

"I've missed you.." A soft murmur can be heard from him just right in your ear, "Missed you so much.."

The hug lasted longer than usual, though you didn't pay any mind to it. By this point, MJ has ushered Peter along to leave you two alone for now as you both are having your own moment.

"Have you been okay? God, I just missed you so much.." Harry keeps on repeating the last bits of his sentence, which elicited a light chuckle out of you as you're the first to slowly break away from the embrace.

Gazing up at him, your eyes possess the gentlest expression as ever as you spoke. "And I missed you so much too.. I've been okay, but it gets boring sometimes."

".. and I'm just glad that you're finally here."

You are still the same woman that he has grown fond of, ever since his high school years. You never changed much.

Without thinking twice and purely based on how much time he has lost, he leans forward a bit, and places a soft kiss on your forehead, before holding you into his arms once more. He couldn't even seem to be able to wipe off the grin from his face either.

The way he smiles, dare you say, is one of those things that you considered as precious and contagious-- easily affecting to those around him. Like how could you ever resist? You had no other choice, but to willingly return his actions without any hint of hesitation whatsoever.

"Did you cut your hair?" His sudden question interrupts your train of thoughts almost instantly, brushing several strands of hair that's been covering the half bit of your face.

The affectionate gesture alone has rendered you speechless for a while there, yet you still appear quite unfazed by it since his gentle touch itself is quite hypnotizing to be experienced on.

"Ah, you noticed," you chuckled amusingly. "I did cut it. Just a bit though."

You didn't expect that he could be this observant, but then again, it's Harry we're talking about here.

"I don't know how you did it, but you still look so absolutely stunning to me.."

He just couldn't tear his gaze away from you, and he has no intentions of doing so just yet. You get the sudden feeling that he wanted to finally try doing something rather bold soon; probably in his own way of saying thank you, or he merely wanted to prove something to you.

And you didn't have any intentions to refuse at all, as it is something that you've been longing to do since his absence as well.

Slowly, his fingertips grazes along the side of your face-- pulling your face closer to his as he begins to lean in, angled his head slightly to the side as if he's ready to seal the special, secret deal between you both.

With his eyes fluttering shut and his hand now moving up to hold the back of your head tenderly; the other around your figure, you started to show some signs of reciprocation as you did the same-- closing your eyes as you waited for his arrival toward the main destination that only you have possessed.

It's not for long anymore--

"Hey you lovebirds!" MJ's voice rang through the air with a teasing tone underlying within it, looking quite amused as ever by the whole ordeal uncovering ahead.

"It's getting cold out here!"

That's when you and Harry abruptly broke apart from one another, having this rather embarrassed expression plastered on your faces-- as if you both didn't just try to kiss each other.

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 1 year ago

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okay. hear me out. Kappa belittling you while you cry and whimper over the size of his cock🙁🙁 mean dom kappa has my heart I swear

This is my meal. I call it 🌟guuuuuuurl diiinnnerrrrr🌟

Mating Season

Summary: In which Kappa is using you as his personal fleshlight 😗

Pairing: Kappa x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Content Warnings: Nothing But Filth 18+!, Mean!Dom!Kappa Being A Menace, Doggy, Ovulation Hornyness, So Much Cum, Straight Up Breeding (It's Not Just A Kink Anymore, Y'all 🥴), Resulting In Possible Impreg, Refractory Period? We Don't Know Her Around Here, Overstimulation (Reader Is Completely Gone At This Point), Very Primal, Petnames, Manhandling, Spanking (That's Prolly The Most Normal Thing In This Fic)

A/N: We all know ovulation hornyness is actually diabolical 👀

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @roryculkinsbf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @b4sementgrl @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess

Come play my game, I'll test ya

Psychosomatic, addict, insane

Come play my game

Inhale, inhale, you're the victim

Come play my game

Exhale, exhale, exhale

- Breathe By The Prodigy (Remix)

You felt it slowly trickling down the inside of your thighs, the accumulated gooey amalgamation of ejaculate, sweat and the slick of your countless orgasms sticky against your skin. Single dollops of it practically flew through the air, splattering onto an already damp mattress and all over Kappas crotch repeatedly whilst he fucked into you from behind with relentlessl fervor.

Lewd, straight up filthy wet sounds echoed from the decrepit stone walls but not really cutting through to you anymore. You, with your head pressed against the sheets, your hair nothing but a mess all over and around your face, drool leaking from between your quivering lips, were a goner.

Not a single thought crossed your fogged mind, all that was left was to simply feel and that you did for sure.

With each heavy roll of Kappa's hips against your already spanked and bruised ass, you felt how the angry tip of his cock spearheaded into your sore cunt that was clearly overflowing with bodily fluids at this point. You felt how your walls clenched and tightened around him, how your body betrayed you like this and failing to realize that Kappa had been hammering himself into your abused pussy like that for hours now. For some wicked reason, your body still craved more, getting increasingly cockdrunk with every time you felt him stroking his girth over that especially sensitive spot of yours.

The point where your muscles couldn't take it anymore was long overstepped already, but you just froze in the position you were in, with your ass raised up high on trembling knees and your front pinned to the mattress, blacking out the pain in devout submission.

With your eyes closed, all senses turned inward, you only knew the pushing and shoving, thrusting and pulling back of his throbbing cock deep inside of you, making you see stars sparkling on the black of your eyelids. Time and place rendered into obscure concepts that didn't apply to you in any way right now.

"Hey, you still here?" Kappa barked out in a breathy, low laugh before the flat of his palm swung down onto the round of your behind.

The answer you gave to that was far from some carefully articulated word and but a meak whimper that snaked its way out of your mouth upon impact.

"There, there…I was worried about my sweet, little cum bunny for a moment." Just for good measure, he struck down on your ass again, successfully leaving a glowing red imprint of his hand next to countless others.

You felt the pain shooting through your weak body yet your worn out nerve endings couldn't be bothered to even do so much as flinch.

"Oh, you're so far gone, aren't you?", Kappa mocked, pushing himself into you again, splitting you open from the inside out, "Don't worry, babe, I'll make sure to finally fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you take my cock so good. Such an obedient slut."

The words reached your ears, your fucked out brain trying to comprehend in a fruitless attempt. The last thing you knew was essentially begging unto him to touch you, to fuck the hornyness, caused by your monthly cycle, out of you and to ease the throbbing need between your legs with his body. Kappa more than gladly took you up on that invitation.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get you pregnant, fucking finally. Do the very thing none of those Replicas could ever do and actually procreate.", He rambled on in his deranged train of thought, "Can't wait for your belly to grow and swell with the human life that I father right here."

It seemed as if he talked himself into a delusional spurt, picking up the pace in which his thighs slapped against the brutalized skin of your ass, not even fully pulling out anymore before shoving himself into you again.

It had the tiny rest of your still haphazardly functioning brain short circuiting as your weak fingers searched for support by digging into the sheets. It was to no avail, your tear-soaked cheek chaffed over the fabric with each thrust, most likely turning sore by the time he'd eventually be done with you here.

"Shit, fuck…", It seeped out of his mouth in a guttural groan, " 'M gonna cum again just by thinking about getting you knocked up, bunny."

Although your brain was nothing but a fucked out puddle by now, you recognised how his rhythm faltered like the plenty of times before, his pulsing cock turning rigid inside of you before a new, hot and tacky wave of his seed flooded your already full to the brim insides.

You sensed how his load pushed past your walls and exuded out of your sore cunt, smearing down the insides of your thighs just like the last and the one before that.

"Gosh, you're such a perfect, submissive breeding slut for me. Fucking love you and your pussy when you're so needy for me like that. Gonna make sure that I fuck all of my cum into you nice and deep.." With that, Kappa inhaled sharply before rolling his hips against your behind again, pulling a weak whimper from your lungs.

"Might as well just do that all night long."

#asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #kappa #kappa black mirror #black mirror #black mirror: beyond the sea #kappa x you #kappa smut #kappa x fem!reader #kappa x reader

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zecoritheweirdone · 1 year ago

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hey guys,, who wants to see this new dsmp au i've thought up of instead of working on my other countless, already existing aus.

still trying to come up with a proper name for it,,, right now the working title is shattered reflections...? buuuut i'm not too content with that yet.

the basic plot is, via ~wacky shenanigans~,, ranboo, tommy, and tubbo,, all from different universes,, end up getting misplaced together in the multiverse or something like that, and now have to hop from dimension to dimension, trying to find their way back to their respective homes(and maybe they'll find that the real home was the friends they made along the way).

still need to iron out a few kinks(how did this start, how do they travel, how does it end, etc etc),, but like. it's been rotting in my brain ever since the idea first came to my head, so i figured i might as well share it here? in case anyone else's interested,, dkdnsksms.

ranboo's from a magical girl-like au!!! why? mostly because i thought the idea was fun,, ekenkssjks. tried my best to emulate an anime style into the design, 'm hoping it came across? i've been imagining, if this au were animated like spiderverse,, they'd look a lot like how peni parker was animated,, dkdmskdm. you'll never guess what his magical girl form is themed on /lh.

tommy, as you can prolly tell, is from a royalty au! youngest prince of the antarctic empire,,, design is slightly based on some fanart i saw on reddit, by someone called em0kii, i believe? i say slightly because i only thought to search up "antarctic empire fanart" for inspo after i was done with the lineart,, and by that time it was too late for me to change it to something that better fit the cold environment the kingdom's based on(and by too late i mostly mean i was lazy),,, dkdjskj. still, though, i'm pretty happy with it!

and then there's tubbo! he's from a post-apocalyptic au B]. not one with zombies,, but... idk, maybe something exploded? haven't thought too hard about the cause, but just know that his world is in a not good shape. i'm sure it's fine tho. my main thoughts when drawing him were to make him less colorful and saturated than the other two,, since his universe is a bit darker than theirs,,,, and to make him look a little intimidating(big coat, goggles, scarf, lots of sharp edges, plaid). after all, if you're a 5' something teen in the apocalypse, living all on your own– you wanna try and make yourself look as big as possible to try and ward off as many threats as you can. and if that doesn't work, you can always just hit 'em with a bat.

bonus doodle under the cut:

tfw you wake up in the middle of a forest, with no memory of getting there, with two weirdly dressed strangers right there beside you. like. what the fuck.

#my art #shattered reflections au #dream smp #ranboo #ranboo fanart #tommyinnit #tommyinnit fanart #tubbo #tubbo fanart #if you like this i would really appreciate it if you rbed it;; and/or tell me your thoughts 👉👈#i have a lot of ideas for it that i'd love to share!#mostly holding back to see if there's any interest for it; first;; wouldn't wanna just shout into the void;; kdkmdkdmd #also honestly. no clue why i chose to make tubbo's jacket plaid #it felt empty and i guess that was the first thing i came up with to fill the space #i have wayyy too many wips on hand to try and focus on a full multi-chap for this #(plus i don't have a full plan for this au yet; anyway)#but i am tempted to maybe do a couple oneshots; if i ever get the motivation/inspiration #so if anyone here is interested in that;; let me know;; sksnksnsks #anyway– hope you guys enjoyed!!! take a cookie -> 🍪

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lemonqii · 2 months ago

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Don't like it so I'm abandonin this draft (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

"Come on, kid. Hold the knife properly," Rorke nodded his head, nudging him towards the figure standing before him.

Logan looked up and stared at the mask, one that over countless flittering and hopeful glances into muddied puddles and shattered windows he had come to know as himself. It had taken time for him to understand what role he had truly accepted.

The knowledge that he had become the Ghost, the main character of a story that he had not believed could be his, both overwhelming and exciting at the same time.

He was proud, he belonged, he was happy. The mask had, over time, become him. And he, in turn, the mask. It was a blessing.

He made his own decisions, and he made the decisions for those who couldn't think for themselves.

But as Rorke nudged him forward, squeezed his shoulder reassuringly he realised just what his father had 'gifted' him.

A burden.

Of course, being chosen over everyone to be his successor, over Hesh, had filled him with a bubbling excitement that he was more than the younger brother. A thought that he hadn't dared but dream of.

But as the memory of his father faded away, that very warmth settled and cooled into a heavy cold in his gut. One that with every breath he took reminded him of the future that could have been his. One that his father had traded for a ghost.

But Rorke showed him the truth. The future that he truly deserved. One that he could only achieve by purging the ties that tied to this world, those who still remembered him by the name Logan. Only once he got rid of the phantoms who held onto the remaining pieces of his insignificant existence could he finally be reborn.

He looked up again, and found that the Ghost was staring into the distance, over his shoulder, as if expecting the older brother to stand behind him, to give him a knowing glance, a quick squeeze of the hand he was holding. To tell him what to do with nothing but a nod of his head.

But he was more than the shadow of that desperate man now. He wouldn't take care to step one foot after the other, to keep the sand completely perfect, no different than the way it had been after his brother had already left his imprint.

He would kick. Destroy. Ravage any signs that there had been a world where he was not the first, the leader, the innovator. He would cover up any signs of those wretched steps that, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't overshadow by his own. He would ruin anything that had been made by those before him. Just to prove the strength of his own being.

He will take himself apart and allow himself to be built anew, witness the creation of a being that should not have been possible, that isn't possible, and that should not be possible for the rest of the time that man remains superior, for the rest of the time that it takes for humanity to tear itself apart fighting over land that will never truly belong to anyone or anything.

Listened to emo songs while writing this,, can't help but cringe reading back •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀ prolly don't make sense either,, just ignore ┐⁠(⁠‘⁠～⁠`⁠;⁠)⁠┌

#call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #call of duty #gabriel rorke #cod rorke #cod #logan walker #cod logan #david hesh walker #elias walker

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prismaticpichu · 5 months ago

Note

About your fics: What's a line/passage/chapter that haunts you (in a good way)?

Ooooh! That’s a good question!!!

Honestly, the dream is that I’ve written/to someday write a line/passage powerful enough that it would forever haunt someone else 😂❤️ But self-love is just as important too, and in terms of what has stuck like a phantom with me… I think it goes to this passage from Lightning.

Zack tightened the embrace as soon as he dissolved into it. “I’m so sorry…” he whispered, and it sounded like he was crying. A raindrop against his head told him that he was.

Again, through the small quivers, Sephiroth felt guilty. “Why are you… upset…?”

“Why…?” Zack said thickly. “You’re my best friend, Seph. And when you hurt, it’s like… I can feel your pain…” He examined his neck, scanning his eyes across the still-damp skin, brushing tresses of silver out of the way. “How the Hell can I have not known….”

“You won’t find any scars,” Sephiroth explained, a hint of bitterness creeping back into his tone. “My body never left them.”

And still, he was being tormented. He was a twenty-three year old man hiding away from plagues that weren’t even visible. A twenty-three year old SOLDIER having….

Zack could hear the poison in his friend’s voice loud and clear, and knew it was aimed at nobody but himself. The boy’s expression blued. “You don’t need proof of your bad memories to have them.” He rested his head against Seph’s shoulder. Turned on his cheek, pressed his x-shaped scar into his friend’s shirt. “Sometimes they just… kinda come. And that’s okay. They can be random like that.”

“...Random?” Sephiroth repeated, low.

“Yeah…” Zack nodded. “Random. Like… y’know how lightning always has a chance to strike a tree? I think sometimes a bad memory can hit like that. Just lands when other times it doesn’t.”

Sephiroth pondered his friend’s words. Wise, really… and truthful, now that he was hearing them. He had taken on missions during thunderstorms before. Led troops through horrible tempests in Wutai, camped out in the rain and mud and slept under trees when there were no other options.

And now, in the most calm period in his life, he was afflicted.

Mist welled in Sephiroth’s eyes. He quivered, clutching the soft velvet of the sofa. Straining and fighting.

And Zack gave him a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay..”

Let it out… His friend was saying. You’re safe. You know I’m not going to judge you. It’s okay.

It’s okay….

And yet—

“….Warriors don’t cry…” Sephiroth rattled.

Not even a beat passed before Zack held him closer. “You don’t have to be a warrior all the time, bud…” he whispered.

(Heavier explanation under cut; small TW for mental health discussion)

More than almost anything I’ve ever written, this message I was trying to convey here is one authentic from the heart (and was super incredibly cathartic to write). As someone who is unfortunately diagnosed with PTSD and prolly always will be, I think it’s important to remember that, as cheesy as it sounds, we will sometimes face those bad memories again. There’s doesn’t always need to be an explanation to sometimes get a little bit triggered by our past. For example, just the other day I was sitting in class when something my teach said hit me so viscerally that I had to excuse myself, despite having had casual conversations/even joking about the subject matter before. Sometimes, it truly is random. Like lightning striking a tree. Like how Seph is triggered by a thunderstorm despite having weathered through countless of them before. And that’s okay ❤️ We aren’t weak for being afflicted by our past. We’re just human.

#ffvii #sephiroth #zack fair #crisis core #ff7 #pichu writing #fanfic #asks #ty!!#I hope what I’m trying to say here makes sense xD it really does to me LOL

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luvistqrzzz · 1 year ago

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THE ACCIDENTAL POLAROID- 20::: Love, Y/N ( written::: 0.47K )

( warnings::: none )

This was a bad idea. This was the worst out of the bad ideas you've ever had but there you were again finding your way to Heeseung's locker, an envelope clutched in your hand.

You didn't know what putting "things right" meant but all you wanted was to apologize to him and after what he had said, talking to him face-to-face might just make matters worse (also sending letters was romantic and you were a coward). Needless to say, you had cursed yourself a countless times for your actions that day.

When you reached the locker, you quickly looked around your surroundings to check for any signs of him before slipping it past the slot and, quite literally, sprinting away in the opposite direction to hide behind a pillar.

After a while of waiting, you saw Heeseung approach from the distance. Your stomach did a sudden flip at his sight.

Now, the said boy was living in much the same dilemma, of how to walk up to you and kiss you talk to you. At least his friends had been successful on putting some sense into him.

Heeseung opened the locker only to find a big creme coloured envelope inside. He furrowed his eyebrows before opening it.

Inside it was a polaroid, tucked safely along with a letter. He took in a sharp breath. The polaroid of yours he took months ago. Your face bent down, a small pretty smile grazing your face.

Dear Heeseung or should i say 'mr.H'?,

So i kinda figured out you'll be the only who sent me this polaroid, im not wrong right? Cuz you have terrible photography skills! Im kinda sad that it's already fading :( i cant believe that it was one damned polaroid that lead me to you. But i wouldn't have it any other way

Moving on, lemme get straight to the point. Im sorry for what i did and im also sorry for being a coward and not being able to tell you this personally (also i figured you wouldn't wanna talk to me). Nothing can compare to what i did that day... and s*ngh**n told me that b4 i kissed him, i said that i missed you. Yes, you, Lee Heeseung. And ik our relation wont prolly get back to normal but i hope you accept my apology... its okay if you don't forgive me, now or ever.

But in the end, i like you heeseung. A lot. And i wish we could take more polaroids like this one, i wish we could document our lives in polaroids and when we get old we'll see those fading pieces of paper and laugh at ourselves.

- Love, Y/N.

From your crouched position behind the pillar you saw as Heeseung folded the paper and stalked the other way. It meant nothing, he was just walking away but why did you then feel your heart sink?

Prev | Masterlist | Next

SUMMARY- Lee Heeseung doesn't believe in love at first sight but what happens when he accidentally clicks a polaroid of a girl at the local diner? A girl he can't seem to get out of his mind.

Will he be able to return you the polaroid or will love follow him along the way?

GENRE- smau with written parts, college!au, strangers to lovers, fluff, crack, angst (veryyy slight), slight love triangle

TAGLIST- open! send an ask or comment to be added- @yenqa @xuimhao @ddazed-lhs @astrae4 @ghostiiess @seungminstaehyun @haechansbbg @chaechae-23 @ak-aaa-li @whippedforbeomgyu @ahnneyong @ineedaherosavemeenow @jhopesucker @j-wyoung @tnyhees @liliansun @rikizm @jadeluvsenha

( bold = cannot tag )

AN- enjoy the cliffhanger my loves 😘... also if yall want pls vote whether yall will prefer love theory ( summary ) to be a smau here! 🙏🏼

#📸accidental polaroid !#enhypen smau #hyfenet #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen social media au #enhypen au #enhypen fanfics #heeseung imagines #enhypen fake texts #enha fics #enhypen fluff #lee heeseung #heeseung smau #enha fake texts

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 2 years ago

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You’re Somebody Else | Ghost x Fem!Reader | Part I

Note: This is not a new part - haha I’m currently in my exam phase sooo yeahh, but I decided to split the prologue into two parts because I personally believes it flows better.

This fic has religious undertones at least in this part, I hope I don’t make anyone uncomfortable with this. I grew up Christian (tho I’m an atheist now) and I thought a bit about how I would react if I was suddenly in a parallel universe where I and several other people are supposed to be dead.

Warnings: Death, Mentions of Gore, Angst, COD Typical Violence, Mentions of Original Characters, Mention of Religion and Hell, Inaccurate Depiction of Medical Stuff, Injuries and prolly Military, Transmigration (lol)

Summary: You watched him die and yet he’s somehow still alive. You’re certain that you’ve died too and yet you’re still kicking. Is this a message from the universe? A second chance to make things right? To confess? You want to believe it but you quickly realize that he’s not the same man you knew and loved. Yet your heart is fluttering when he touches you. Can you love this new version of him?

Word Count: 3,8k

Taglist: -

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Prologue, Part II, Part III, ...

When you open your eyes again the world is on fire and you’re looking at the ceiling of a helicopter.

Someone moves in your field of vision, but you can barely make out their features as the lights of the helicopter don’t seem to work. Your ears are ringing, and you can’t understand what the man is saying but based on his expression something bad is happening.

He’s a marine you realize belatedly when your eyes adjust to the dark environment and for a moment you wonder if you must continue to fight even after your death.

Is this hell?

You don’t actually believe in hell or heaven anymore but based on the fact that you woke up again this has to be some sort of afterlife.

The unknown soldier shakes you and yells something and the ringing finally stops, and you hear him call you by your callsign.

“Nomad! Fuck, can you hear me?! Jesus, for a second I thought you were a goner!”

You nod automatically and he grabs you by your plated vest, dragging you into an upright position.

“Your head is bleeding like crazy”, he curses and speaks into his mic to inform someone about your injury.

You haven’t even noticed it but when you touch your left temple you feel the edge of a helmet and your gloved fingers turn red. It doesn’t hurt.

While the marine speaks, he looks behind him and you follow his line of sight out of the helicopter. The heli apparently crashed.

Shots whizz past the window and the man ducks to avoid getting hit.

“I know you’re injured but AQ is reigning hellfire on us! I’ll take care of your wound in a second!”

The unknown marine faces you again and in his hand, he holds a M14 EBR. Automatically you know it’s yours.

“Keep holding on, Bravo Team will be here soon!”

You take the weapon with your right hand and the marine helps you on your feet.

“They’re shooting at us from the house!” He points in the general direction, “Keep your head low and don’t waste your bullets!”

“Okay”, you mumble. Okay you think.

You’re dead but you still have to fight. Makes sense.

Leaning against the wall you quickly scan the inside of the helicopter, then the immediate surroundings of it through one of the windows. The area is illuminated by small fires and corpses litter the dusty ground. Marines, all dead. Maybe this is hell.

It would make sense, all the lives you’ve taken on countless operations... Is this retribution?

The realization that you aren’t in the Caucasus Mountains anymore only trickles in slowly.

You turn to watch through the window beside you and spot the house which the marine mentioned in the distance, and you immediately make note of the smoke coming from the second floor.

“RPG!” someone yells and years of active combat situations make you instinctively drop low when you hear the familiar whoosh. The metal of the heli protests.

Shouts and gunfire echo in your ears and your world is turning but you stand up again, prepping yourself against the wall to have free line of sight towards the house.

Smoke is still coming from the second floor, and you watch through your scope for any movement. You see a shoulder and want to pull the trigger, but someone kills the hostile before you can react.

Bravo Team you think, does that mean I’m part of Alpha? You don’t know what the fuck is going on.

Your radio crackles.

“RPG is taken care of.”

You blink. That voice is familiar.

But before you can think about it more, the marine comes up to you again. You realize he’s a Captain.

“Sarge, we should wrap your head.”

Now? Now’s not a good fucking time.

“I know but you’re bleeding a lot. Don’t want to take you back home in a body bag.”

You didn’t realize you said those words out loud but the concern in his eyes ends up convincing you and you take off your helmet.

“Do it quick”, you mutter and sink below the window, pointing your gun at the entrance of the helicopter, while the strap of your helmet is cutting into your elbow and the night goggles on it dig into your thigh.

“Jesus, it looks really bad”, the captain mutters as he grabs some gauze from his med kit and wraps it around your head with quick and efficient movements. It gets soaked almost immediately.

You don’t really care though; you can’t feel the pain. In fact, you can’t really feel anything. Your body doesn’t feel like your own, you’re practically floating. Maybe it’s because you’re dead.

He finishes and you put your helmet back on.

“Tell me if you’re starting to feel light-headed, okay?”

You nod but don’t plan on actually doing it. Even bandaging your head feels useless.

You can’t exactly die twice, right?

If this is the afterlife it might be likely that he doesn’t know that yet. That he doesn’t know he’s dead, a corpse like you.

For a second you wonder what killed him. You look at the man. He really is a stranger.

You feel bad for not knowing his name but asking would be kind of strange as he addresses you in such a familiar way, so you don’t.

The area doesn’t provide enough light for you to check his name tag on his cammies either, so you just have to go on without knowing. But that’s okay. You probably have a lot of time to get to know him – if this is hell.

Your inner child is starting to whisper, and you have to repress your childhood memories about church, the priest in your hometown and your father’s bible.

You breathe in and out.

The smell that surrounds you reminds you of countless operations you’ve been part of. It reminds you of your team, your friends, him.

Something in your chest hurts.

Your radio crackles, you hear a familiar cockney accent and suddenly you see two bodies burning in the flames outside of the helicopter.

“Alpha 0-2, Bravo 0-7. Building two secure. We’re coming to you.”

The captain responds but you don’t hear his words, just see his lips moving, while you lean against the metal, your fingers gripping your rifle so hard that your knuckles turn white under your gloves.

There’s a ringing in your ears growing louder and louder.

A moment later a shadow towers over you and you look up reflexively, coming face to face with a masked soldier. Two eyes glance at you from behind a skull mask and all you can do is stare back.

His eyes quickly focus on the marine next to you, then he checks the windows, focused as always, a perfect soldier to the bone.

The captain readies his gun and the man next to him follows his lead, pointing his rifle at the tree line on the opposite side of the heli.

You don’t move.

He realizes. And he turns around, staring at you from behind that mask.

“Nomad, get your arse up and help, they’re coming”, he barks.

Slowly you blink. Something stirs in your head.

“Yessir”, you mutter, breathless, and rise to your feet.

You feel like a puppet master, pulling strings to move your body, all of you is slow and heavy, your muscles like lead. But you manage to stand and point your gun towards the tree line.

The next 15 minutes are a blur, a mix of shooting and reloading, killing, the feeling of your finger on the trigger so familiar, your body moves on its own like a well-oiled machine.

All the while your heart is screaming his name and your head replays the last few minutes in the Caucasus Mountains.

Tears well up in your eyes and you blink them away.

He’s dead you think. You both are. You fucking died. You watched him get killed. Helplessly.

The roaring in your head gets louder, accompanying the spray fire of Kilo 0-1 who mows down the troops of the enemy vehicles. And when the last enemy falls you remain there standing motionless, your grip tight on your rifle, while the others discuss their next movements.

Someone taps your shoulder and points at your head. You lower your night googles and your vision takes a moment to adjust.

A second later, Bravo Team begins to move, and you follow him and the others in a daze, one foot before the other.

Together you move a couple hundred meters, the name “Hassan” falls from several lips, but you have no clue who that man is.

Prey your head helpfully provides.

Before you can think about this sudden thought, you hear a whistle and the man left of you drops like a sack.

SniperGetDown rings in your ears and you dive low, your heartbeat suddenly going 200 per minute.

He’s right there.

A few meters beside you, you can practically feel him and his heart. In this moment, whether it was real or not, whether this was the afterlife or purgatory and you but just a corpse- in this very moment, his heart is beating, alive and strong.

Your finger is on the trigger before you know it, this time you’re ready- your target is right there, you spotted the laser of his rifle and your rifle is in position- this time your bullet will hit- and it does.

Before he can finish his sentence:

“...rest of you stay lo-“

“Sniper down”, you interrupt, your voice foreign to your ears, too weak, too raw.

“Nomad- what are-“

Another shot rings out and yet another soldier in your line falls.

You don’t waste a second, your finger is trigger happy, it’s too important to keep him save, to keep him breathing. If you have to watch him die again…

Someone joins you as you provide cover fire and together, you’re taking out the enemies on the balcony and the roof, bullets whizz past you, even some RPG rockets but you’re too focused on your task to be bothered by it.

A few seconds later Kilo 0-1 sends a spray of gun fire into the property and the building is shaken by explosions – yet it still remains standing, the most of it anyway.

Next thing you know, the soldiers around you are up and running to the building, someone grabs you by the back of your vest and hauls you on your feet, dragging you a bit before you begin to walk on your own.

The skull mask is watching you, the eyes behind it are dark and, in your head, you know exactly how badly he wants to beat your ass right now.

But he lets you go and returns his attention back to the mission.

Lock down the building and find this Hassan- whoever he is, dead or alive.

You follow him, reloading your rifle absent-mindedly while watching his back.

He somehow appears taller.

It’s different a voice in your head whispers, he is- you almost trip on the stairs and the soldier behind you saves you from your fall.

“Watch it, Nomad”, a Scottish voice says and another one rings in your head.

Soap get down!

You blink and grunt in response and the sergeant lets you go. He passes you and readies his rifle to make entry.

Every cell in your body screams to not let him do it but you suddenly feel drowsy and when you finally shake off the feeling, you’re inside the building on first deck, Bravo Team soldiers in front of you while the corpses of the enemy soldiers lay in the rubble around you.

Something’s wrong.

You gun down another hostile and when he and Soap push to the second floor, you follow them, still floating above the ground. But when you walk up the stairs your limbs feel heavy, and your breath is going to fast.

He halts at the door to the side, for a moment his eyes search for you, but in the next, he takes out the man who pushes out the room.

Two shots.

He lets the soldier drop to the ground and then enters the room; gun raised. Soap follows him and you walk up the rest of the stairs.

At the top you have to lean on the wall for a bit. A weight is pressing on your chest, and it hinders your lungs from getting enough air.

“You okay?” a Bravo Team soldier asks. You hum.

Yeah, you’re doing fine. If only the world would stop spinning for a goddamn second.

You blink. The night googles make you woozy, but you don’t take them off, knowing that your eyes would take too long to adjust to the darkness.

You stare out of the entry way to the balcony. You know that there are enemy soldiers left in the building, so you get your shit together.

As soon as you find Hassan it’ll be over. You can hang on a little longer. You’re a soldier, part of taskforce 141, an expert in your field. You went through a lot before, this is nothing. If this is supposed to be hell, it’s a fucking joke.

He walks out of the room and you stand tall again in case he checks on you like he usually would – he doesn’t.

He positions himself before you, letting Soap pass him to walk through the door frame. He guns down the hostile who peeks out of one of the entry ways on the balcony.

Then the Scot goes to the right room, and you move forward, ready to go straight down the balcony but he blocks your path with his hand.

“What do you think you’re doing, rookie?”

That word makes you freeze.

He hasn’t called you that in years and him doing it now, hurts you.

“Why-“ you begin, ready to argue why the fuck he’s acting this way, when Soap emerges from the door way where the enemy had peaked before and gunshots ring out.

“Shit- heads up lads, sneaky little gits are everywhere!”, the Scot curses and sends a spray of bullets down a small hole the wall. You grunt. He almost got shot in the leg. He has to be more careful.

“Move”, you squeeze out between your teeth, and the masked man turns to face you. He peers down at you, his eyes scrutinizing your form.

“You’re following my orders, sergeant. I’m not here to babysit you. So, stand down and don’t pull a move like that again. You’re injured, stay back and don’t hinder us.”

His tone is cold when he references your earlier action of saving his life. You stare at him, trying to find out if you heard correctly. The dark eyes behind the mask stare back with a hard gaze.

You open your mouth, a curse ready to be spilt – since when does he talk to you like that? – but before you can voice your thoughts he walks past you, gun raised, following Soap’s footsteps. You breathe out shakily.

Something is wrong. Something is seriously wrong.

The ringing in your ears returns but you ignore it when the soldier who asked you for your well-being before, waits for you to follow him. Determined you get moving, following the soldier, rifle raised in front of you.

The house is in horrible condition, the onslaught of Kilo 0-1’s gun fire and the explosions destroyed the ceiling, walls and the furniture and, in some corners, the remains of it burn.

The marine pushes up to the door on the left, while he kneels to cover Soap just in case. You bite your lip.

Usually, you would do the clearing with Soap, but this situation is different. There’s a power imbalance somehow and you don’t understand why.

So instead, you follow the soldier and stand behind him, your back against the wall, staring straight at him.

Was it the mask? It was different yes, but his voice and his demeanour- You know it’s him. It has to be him.

Soap passes by you and enters the room, firing his gun, just a millisecond later.

“Threat eliminated”, he announces and guns down the other hostile who peeks through the damaged window.

These words make him move and he walks up to the door frame as well. You remain standing at the wall while the marine makes space for him.

“Poke around, Soap.”

Closing your eyes, you grip your rifle tighter. You’re standing on your feet but the whole world is turning and it’s making you feel nauseous.

The ringing is more intense than ever, and you don’t hear why Bravo Team is moving again but you weakly push yourself off the wall and follow, not realizing that Soap is watching you with worried eyes.

You walk down the stairs, trying to calm your breathing that has turned ragged.

The soldier before you has already left the building when you arrive at the bottom of the stairs and you groan inwardly. Keep up, you shout inwardly.

You experienced worse before, the things you have gone through felt like hell, this in comparison is nothing.

So you push through to the warehouse, jogging to some crates in front of it, your rifle raised, ready for whatever is to come.

Your hands are shaking though, and it costs you immense willpower to keep the gun raised and somewhat steady.

You focus on your breathing and follow him and the others when they begin to move.

You enter the building and a second later- get blinded by the flood lights.

Shots ring out – you can’t see – and Soap shouts something that you can’t understand due to the explosion of a grenade close to you. Groping blindly, you move your night goggles and squint your eyes to adjust to the brightness, but you stumble forward, the sudden loss of your vision is affecting your balance.

It feels like years when you are finally able to make out shapes again, and you rush left behind a crate or whatever it is, holding your rifle up, finger now resting on the trigger.

Another few seconds pass and you’re still partially blinded, red dots dancing over your field of vision. You fall on your ass, leaning against the cold concrete wall to steady yourself.

You’re on a roller coaster, stuck on the looping, the world is turning endlessly. The sounds of fighting accompany your nausea inducing trip and your heartbeat underlines it like a war drum.

It dawns on you now that you really must be in hell – the instances before when you thought about it, you were joking, forming a wall out of sarcasm to protect you from the rising panic and bane of your catholic upbringing.

Your body hurts, your head, your heart – you do have a wound on the side of your head, you are bleeding real blood and the blood loss, and a possible concussion is affecting you.

You take your left hand off your rifle, letting it rest on your thighs, your right hand still holding it, keeping a finger close to the trigger, while you try to open the clasp of your helmet.

You’re shaking too much, and the vertigo makes you miss several times.

When you finally grasp the band, you can barely squeeze your fingers together to open the clasp. Pushing your mic out of the way, you lean forward and shove your helmet off your head.

The bandaged wound on your temple stings and you squeeze your eyes shut, a whimper escaping your mouth.

Why does it feel so real? Is this how you’re tortured? Hurting your body and showing you your loved ones alive and well?

They aren’t real a voice whispers in your head. It’s not them.

You grab your head with both hands. No, it’s not true. It can’t be.

Where’s Roach? You suddenly ask yourself. And Lynx?

Anna is was your best friend in the force, she meant so much to you- she should be here.

Your head hurts so much and the ringing in your ears is so loud that you don’t hear that the fighting has already ceased. Someone grabs your shoulder, the grip is strong but it doesn’t hurt.

“…me? ..omad? ost, Nomad is inju…”

Your head is so heavy.

Fingers apply pressure on your head injury and the touch sends a painful jolt through your body, making you open your eyes.

You blink, trying to stop the blurriness and when you do, you see him.

He stands far back in the shadow of a metal shelf, Soap is closer to you, just behind the marine who’s kneeling in front of you.

The white of his eyes in contrast with the dark makeup around it. The skull peers down at you, his gaze hard, distant, as if he’s looking at a stranger.

Instantly, you realize he’s not your Simon.

He’s a demon, crafted to torture you for eternity, reminding you that you were unable to save him.

Your eyes water.

He’sgonehe’sdeadIlosthim.

You keel forward, alarming the marine and Soap.

“…ey, hey! Stay …wake, don…out!”

Tears spill from your eyes, mixing with the half dried blood on your cheek.

“…’m sorry”, you whimper, gasping for air that isn’t entering your lungs.

You heave like a fish on dry land, You can’t breathe, your brain isn’t getting enough oxygen. You’re dying. Again. Only this time it’s so much worse.

“…anic attack…”, someone grunts, and hands grab you, clinging to you, making your body heavy.

They drag you through the ground into darkness and his name is on your lips when they take you.

Ghost stares at your limp body.

Something is different about you.

Years of combat experience which sharpened his senses and instinct tell him there is something off.

Your reaction before was strange and yes one might say it’s due to your injuries, but he just knows there’s more to it. Somehow, you appear foreign and yet familiar at the same time.

The way you carried yourself was different.

He might be wrong but for him it seemed as if you had lost the jump in your movements, the gait of a rookie.

Hours ago, you had fidgeted with your watch when General Shepherd explained your mission, glancing excitedly and perhaps a bit anxiously at the other task members. Soap had smiled at your demeanour.

Earlier it was different.

The way you handled your rifle, efficient movements, no unnecessary grasp there, no groping for ammunition, just fluid motion, smooth like clockwork. As if you’d done the same for a decade or so. But that’s not true.

And that’s what strange.

But what puzzles him even more was the fact that you called his name- his real name, not his call sign- when you passed out.

What the hell is going on?

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