#damn poor chief

[empresskadia]

Have some John.

Chernobyl

...The year is 2550. Chernobyl, a desolate wasteland, echoes with the remnants of its haunted past, is now host to a new form of terror. The Insurrectionist FOB, a hive of scum and treachery, thrives amidst the ruins. Here, the Master Chief embarks on a perilous mission to rescue the kidnapped children of Lord Hood.

Dressed for death, the Chief's armor—a dark, winter-camo patterned MIRAGE suit fused with his MK-6 MJOLNIR helmet, his helmet's visor as crimson as blood—melds with the night. Each step is calculated, his form a specter sliding through the shadows, the compact MA2B assault rifle in his grip ready to unleash hell.

The assault begins with an unsuspecting Insurrectionist guard patrolling the perimeter, his steps casual, his demeanor unguarded. Without a sound, Chief closes the gap, his movements a blur. A swift, precise strike to the neck, and the guard crumples, a silent testament to the Chief’s deadly prowess. This is no mere rescue; it's a declaration of war.

Penetrating deeper into the FOB, Chief encounters increasing resistance. The air crackles with gunfire, the night shattered by the cacophony of battle. Insurrectionists, emboldened by their perceived strength, unleash a torrent of lead, but to Master Chief, they might as well be throwing stones.

A squad of rebels forms a barricade, their weapons trained on the narrow corridor ahead. The Chief, undeterred, rolls a grenade with pinpoint accuracy. The explosion is a concussive force of fury, metal and bodies tossed aside like ragdolls in the aftermath. Through the smoke and debris, he advances, his rifle barking death as he dispatches any survivors with merciless efficiency.

The corridors of the FOB become a maze of death, each turn a potential ambush, every room a battlefield. Master Chief navigates this labyrinth, his sensors and instincts guiding him, each engagement more brutal than the last. Insurrectionists, armed with makeshift shields and salvaged weapons, fight desperately but fall just as quickly.

Within the heart of the FOB, the air crackles with anticipation. The corridor narrows, funnelling into a makeshift arena where two titans are destined to collide. There, standing amidst the wreckage of his fallen comrades, is Colonel Robert Watts, a traitor to the UNSC turned Insurrectionist leader.

His physique, augmented in a crude mimicry of Spartan enhancements, gives him the stature of a behemoth, a grotesque parody of the super-soldier program. In his grip, a Brute's gravity hammer, its head crackling with volatile energy, ready to unleash devastation.

Opposite him stands Master Chief, a the real deal. His stance is calm, calculated, the very embodiment of lethal precision. Between them, the air hums with the imminent clash of ideologies made manifest in physical form.

Watts charges first, the gravity hammer swinging in a wide arc, a move designed to crush bone and pulverize armor. John sidesteps, the ground where he stood moments ago now a crater of shattered concrete. The Chief's counter is swift—a burst of gunfire aimed to stagger. But Watts, his body a testament to unsanctioned augmentations, barely flinches, pressing forward with the relentless determination of a man with nothing left to lose.

The hammer swings again, this time in a vertical descent, aimed to split the Chief in two. Chief rolls forward, closing the distance, his MA2B firing in controlled bursts. Watts staggers, the shots finding chinks in his makeshift armor, but the beast of a man roars, undeterred, swinging his hammer in a blind fury.

Chief, now within arm's reach, holsters his rifle, knowing this battle will be decided in close quarters. Watts attempts a backhand swing with the hammer, but Chief catches his arm, the muscles in his suit straining against the augmented might of the Insurrectionist. They struggle, a deadlock of force and will, until John delivers a knee to Watts' midsection, forcing him to buckle.

Freed from the hold, Chief steps back, watching as Watts recovers, the older man's breathing heavy, his movements tinged with desperation. The Chief knows this fight won't be won by brute strength alone.

Watts, fueled by rage, charges again, the hammer raised high. This time, Chief meets him head-on, his own augmented strength channelled into a single, devastating punch. The impact sends shockwaves through the air, Watts' arm recoiling from the force. The hammer falls, its ominous hum silenced as it skids across the floor.

The Colonel, now disarmed, faces the Spartan with nothing but his fists and his fury. The two engage in a brutal ballet of punches and parries, each blow a testament to their respective training and enhancements. Chief's movements are precise, economical, while Watts fights with the wild ferocity of a cornered animal.

The fight moves through the corridor, a dance of destruction that leaves the walls scored and the floor littered with debris. Watts lands a heavy blow to Master Chief's helmet, a crack appearing in the visor. The Chief staggers but recovers, the damage igniting a spark of urgency within him.

With a fluid motion born of countless battles, Chief feints a punch, drawing Watts into an overextended swing. As the Colonel's guard drops, Chief delivers a series of rapid strikes, targeting the augmentations' weak points, the culmination of combat experience and strategic brilliance.

Watts, overwhelmed, begins to falter, his movements slowing, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. John seizes the opportunity, landing a crushing blow through Watts' chest, the impact reverberating through the corridor as John's fist rips through the other-side of Watts' torso.

Watts' body slumps to the ground, dead. The Master Chief stands over him, the victor.

With the FOB's heart now silent, Master Chief proceeds to the children's holding area. The door, reinforced and locked, poses no obstacle as John peels the door off its hinges. Inside, the children cower, their eyes wide with fear and hope. They are safe now, their rescuer a towering figure standing amidst the smoke, his silhouette promising safety.

The return journey through the FOB is a silent procession, the night reclaiming the ruins of Chernobyl as the mission, though successful, leaves a heavy toll on the Chief; each life taken, necessary in the pursuit of a greater good, weighs upon him...

oooooo, I really like the fight scene!!!

CHILDREN HOLDING AREA?! The poor little guys, omg.

[alyssasweettart]

Got inspiration when I saw somebody else do it with Puss in boots Last Wish

I'm crying rn XD

[slippery-minghus]

This is not your grave...

...but you are welcome in it.

(there is next to no Master Chief whump, so i'm being the change i want to see in the world. rewrite of Halo 2's cutscene Sorry, Were You in the Middle of Something?)

"Can't you run any faster!?"

"Not helping...!" Master Chief barked with a sharp exhale. His legs burned from the long jump, bones quaking with the force of sprinting. His pulse hammered in his ears.

He stole a glance back—blinding white. So close. Too close. Cortana spoke for them both, "You're not going to make it!" He shook his head, too focused on run faster to even mentally curse.

Still, the edge of the landing came all too quickly. Chief prepared to jump, sucked in a breath, and launched. Fast enough only by milliseconds, he cleared the ledge of his own volition. A moment suspended, then the wall of force hit him before he could even enter free fall.

White enveloped him. Armor shock absorbers failed. Pain. Vertigo as he spun midair.

"Chief!"

Cortana suddenly sounded so distant.

He hadn't lost his helmet, had he? Lungs spasmed in shock, unable to draw breath. Or was there simply no air to—

Thunder clapped, a full body strike against his backside. "Chief!" What little air he'd managed to cling to was punched from his lungs. "Chief! John!"

Black overwrote white.

Darkness oozed up around him, the light from the blast and the sun above tunneling sharply down to a crosshair in his vision. Somewhere, distant, he registered he'd hit water. Knew he needed to activate flotation failsafes in his armor. Lest he'd sink. But those thoughts flitted past with the bubbles, helplessly up to the surface. He fell away, deeper.

"Wake up! ...That's an order, Chief!"

"—Shit, what is that?"

Consciousness flagging, one last drop of awareness screamed as something banded hot and white around his middle. Copper met his tongue, and the black abruptly swallowed him whole.

"Chief! Damn it, wake up!"

[actiniumwrites]

𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇

synopsis: wriothesley finds out you have a crush on someone and somehow manages to guess it’s on literally everyone but himself

characters: wriothesley x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k

warnings: fluff, a tiny pinch of angst and insecurity, my poor attempt at humor, slight miscommunication, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, swearing, first time writing for wriothesley so he might be ooc

notes: i almost made this angst to fluff but then decided i need to stop adding angst into literally everything i write (even though there’s like a tiny pinch of angst in here too 🙄). anyway, wriothesley is a lot harder to write than i thought he would be so i apologize if he seems ooc here

“Heard you gotta crush on someone,” Wriothesley teases as he walks into his office where you sit on one of his couches. You don’t even hear him walk in, too engaged in the book you were reading to pass time until you had to go through hundreds of inmate records to find something Neuvillette had requested.

His declaration is so sudden it almost makes you spit out the tea you had stolen from him.

Your eyes go wide as you stare at where he moves to lean against the front of his desk, arms crossed and waiting for an answer with that stupid smirk of his, “Hey now, that tea is expensive, so don’t go wasting it, okay?”

“Who told you about that?” you press for answers, a hint of anger in your voice as you ignore his previous statement about the tea. He had plenty to spare anyway.

Wriothesley’s smirk widens a bit, “So it is true.”

Damn him.

You don’t even bother trying to make an excuse, knowing your best friend all too well. He’d pick apart your words like weeds in a garden, finding meaning in them that you hadn’t even intended.

“And what if it is true?” you cross your arms defensively, glaring at him from across the room.

“At least tell me who it is,” he says as he rests his palms on the wooden desk behind him. When you don’t give in to his pleading, he playfully scoffs, “Oh c’mon, I’m your best friend! It’s kinda an obligation for you to tell me these things.”

You turn away, fixating your gaze on a nearby wall adorned with some weird painting he had hung awhile back, “Oh yeah? Since when? Last I checked there aren’t any rule books for being friends with someone. I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.”

“It’s Neuvillette, isn’t it?” he smiles knowingly. Perhaps that was why you were always the one receiving tasks from the Chief Justice instead of him — a guess at best, but enough evidence to convince him Neuvillette was the one.

No, you idiot. It’s you.

You snap your head back toward him, “What? No! I don’t like Neuvillette…not like that, at least. He’s nice and all, but I don’t think I’d be able to date the guy.”

“Damn, I really thought I had that one,” Wriothesley mumbles in defeat, pushing himself off the desk and instead moving to walk around the room as he thinks. It scares you. The fact that he’s so particular with facts and little details that it’s only a matter of time before he collects all the pieces to the puzzle and figures out he’s the one you like. What would he say when that happens? “Too nice, huh? So you like someone a little colder, then.”

Damn it, he got you again!

You don’t answer him.

“Not even going to try to deny it?”

“No,” you grumble to yourself, slumping further into the couch, “you’re only going to dig further anyway.”

He gives a satisfied hum, “Right, so it’s Clorinde then. I mean c’mon, we don’t get a lot of visitors, so it has to be her. She fits the description too.”

You exhaustedly sigh and swipe a hand over your face dramatically, done with his antics, “It’s not her either. And there is no ‘description.’”

He perks up in a way that makes you way too uncomfortable, “Navia?”

“No, I’ve never even met her aside from like one time two years ago,” you refute, sliding further down on the couch to fully lie down and shut your eyes, “I don’t get why you’re so excited over this.”

Wriothesley thinks for a moment before squinting his eyes, “Don’t tell me you have a crush on a prisoner?”

You teasingly peek an eye open while leaning back to look at him, “And if I did?”

“You better not,” he warns, pointing a stern finger at you like you were a prisoner and not his coworker.

You laugh to yourself at his sudden change of mood, “Relax, I was only joking!”

“Not funny,” he says unamused, prepared to pull out the prison’s rule book and slap it over your head if you did, “I’m really runnin’ out of people here.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, “thousands of people live in Fontaine. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

You really hope he doesn’t.

The following ten minutes consist of Wriothesley irritatingly pacing around the room and mumbling all sorts of names to himself. Some of which you recognized, others you had never even heard of before. And, despite all of your countless no’s to his guesses, he never gives up. Nor does he realize the answer is right in front of him.

“Just give it up already,” you finally interrupt as he stops in front of you.

A heavy sigh falls from Wriothesley’s lips as he collapses onto the couch, narrowly missing where your legs were outstretched. Defeatedly, he lays his head against the back of the sofa, shutting his eyes as he thinks a little harder. “Oh my god,” he says suddenly, head shooting up to look at you, “…don’t tell me.”

No way. Did he figure it out?

Your breath captures in your throat as his eyes flicker back and forth between your own, searching for some sort of truth. He knows. Your best friend knows that you have feelings for him — and not just the platonic kind.

His brows furrow and his face morphs into one of disgust. It makes your heart drop; the way he’s looking at you.

He doesn’t feel the same way.

“I can’t believe it,” he clicks his tongue in disgust, crossing his arms and turning his attention away from you, “you like Furina.”

Your jaw drops to the floor and suddenly you don’t feel bad anymore, “I actually can’t believe you just said that. Archons, I think you need to visit Sigewinne. I mean, seriously! Furina? Of all people!”

He grins and shrugs carelessly, “I don’t know? She was the last person I could think of.”

“Something is seriously wrong with you.”

“Clearly not so wrong that I couldn’t figure out that the person you actually like is me.”

“Oh please, I don’t even—wait, what? You knew?!”

A boisterous laugh erupts suddenly as you stare at him with wide eyes. You sit up on the couch quickly, slapping his shoulder as he continues to laugh, “Sorry, sorry!”

You don’t find it amusing, “I—when did you figure it out?”

His laugh eventually subsides into a drawn out sigh and his blue eyes soften a bit as they gaze into your own, “I’m not an idiot, you know? I wouldn’t be running this place if I was.”

“Right,” you mumble awkwardly, averting your gaze from his, “so, um, were you just doing all that to lighten the mood so you could let me down easily or…?”

“Or…what?” Wriothesley mocks you, a playful smirk pulling at his lips.

You roll your eyes with a scoff, “don’t make me say it.”

He spares you, luckily. It’s unlike him, but he doesn’t care to joke with you any longer when the subject is so serious, “Yes, I feel the same way. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No, I totally wanted to hear you say you hate me and want me dead,” you say sarcastically, trying to fight a smile.

“I’m being serious, I really do like you,” Wriothesley presses, ignoring the way you’re becoming awkward from the nervousness floating in the air.

You finally exhale the breath you had been guarding in your chest, relieved that this didn’t go as horribly as you once thought it would.

The alarm sounding for dinner goes off after and you both stand from your places on the couch, “So what do we do now that that’s out of the way?”

Wriothesley falls into step next to you, holding the doors to his office open to let you out first, “We have our first date in the cafeteria, of course.”

Your face drops and you stop in your tracks to glare at him, “That better be a joke.”

He laughs it off quickly, not thinking you’d take it so seriously. Eagerly, he grabs your hand tightly in his as he pulls you to the exit of the Fortress, “Relax, I’m just teasing you! You deserve only the best, after all.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Only for you, sweetheart.”

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … BED CHEM ♡

track seven of the short n’sweet series. pairing: kook!pope x reader. based loosely of the song bed chem by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

you’d heard of love at first sight, but lust at first sight was an experience that hit you like a tonne of bricks in the university library.

the first time you’d had the chance to experience pope heyward in full was when he sat at a booth behind you whilst you were studying. you kind of already knew who he was, and kind of already had always thought he was cute despite knowing very little about him despite the fact he was wealthy and a chemistry major. you’d had the chance to talk to him at a party before, sure — but you didn’t think it was appropriate to bond with a boy with the likes of him whilst you were wearing such a sheer dress. you’d said no more than hi and bye.

“look, dude i’m not sayin’ i’m bad at sex. my girls always cum. all i’m sayin’ is, i feel like i can be better. i don’t know how you do the whole teasing thing. i’m a dude. with dude parts. i get impatient and just wanna go straight to pound town — boom!” his blonde friend rambles, and your ears prick up immediately, tearing your eyes away from your textbook to listen distractedly. it wasn’t your fault— you were ovulating, and plus, popes friend was talking at an alarmingly casual volume. “c’mon bro you take chemistry. don’t you know about the human body n’shit?”

“okay, first of all — what you’re talking about is biology. second of all, i’m trying to study. third of all would you keep your voice down?” you hear him ball something up and toss it in the direction of the blonde and nearly let your giggle slip. you were bored out of your mind and horny, there was no harm in eavesdropping.

“alright alright — but answer me this one thing.” popes pal lowers his voice so naturally you lean back in your booth to listen in. “say i want a girl goin’ crazy. beggin’ for it. what do i gotta do? c’mon pope i know you know.”

“if i give you some pointers will you shut the hell up and let me study?” pope sounds bored, and his nonchalance to the situation makes you flush.

“…yes.”

the darker skinned boy sighs, and you picture him leaning on his elbows, making you work even harder to listen. “okay. put a pillow under her hips. it’s gonna help you hit her gspot a lot easier and she’s gonna be more comfortable which you want. massage her hips when you go down on her and don’t skip out on taking your time down there jj.”

“massage her hips?”

“it opens her up. makes her relax her pelvic floor.”

“alrighty, noted. what else, chief?”

“talk her through it. you know how to do that?”

“damn right i do.” the blonde answers confidently.

“i dread to think what that poor girl has to hear.”

by the end of the conversation, you’re dripping. it’s not your fault — like you said, ovulation can be a real bitch. it gets to the point where you need to get up and walk around before you start humping the study bench, so you decide on strolling over to the water dispenser to refill your bottle that you’d been ravenously sipping down to attempt to quell your growing arousal. you also were feeling curious and wanted to get another look at your crush.

when you walked back with your freshly filled bottle, there he was in all his glory— berating his blonde friend in the hat to simply let him study. god he looked good, expensive. sitting comfortably in the booth in a white jacket, voice smooth and buttery and you couldn’t help but stare, your top set of teeth tugging at your glossy bottom lip. the pair of you lock eyes, but you can’t look away— neither can he. did you look flustered? could he tell you’d been listening? were you clammed up? could he sense the arousal seeping through your panties? you wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow could. he seemed like some sort of sex god.

he was none the wiser, and the rest was history — the boy having secured your phone number before you’d left the library.

after that, the two of you became inseparable. if you weren’t studying together or grabbing food (that he’d refuse to let you pay for) you were on the phone, ranting and raving about the people in your classes or the weird thing your professor said that day. there was chemistry, sure — a bond that you could only see heading towards a relationship. but with all the soft touches, the lingering looks from beneath your lashes, the tension — you were itching to take the next step. you’d desired him carnally from the day you met.

it’s a thursday evening, and pope has an exam the next day. a big one. you’d settled on hanging out via phone call whilst he studied, quickly getting on with your own business instead of getting to be at his side distracting him. it was for the best, and whilst you’d pouted at the promised temporary distance, you knew it was a good idea.

until night falls, and you’re laying on your bed — listening to the scribbling away of his pencil through the line. you sigh, a small smile dusting your face.

“you know, the day we met properly i’d kind of overheard one of your conversations.” he can tell you’re biting back a giggle, and with your joy infectious — he smiles too.

“yeah? did no one ever teach you that it’s rude to eavesdrop?” he teases and you let the giggle free, rolling back over to stare at the ceiling.

“s’not my fault! jj has a loud mouth.” you accuse lightheartedly and he hums in agreement, still scribbling away.

“that he does…” he finishes up what he’s writing before directing his attention back to the conversation. “so what exactly did you overhear?”

you bite your lip, recalling it. “well, it’s not exactly PG…”

his brows perk up in curiosity as his eyes flicker towards your contact image on his screen. “oh? i hope i didnt embarrass myself.”

“no, no not at all… i was intrigued.”

“well don’t leave me hanging.” he truly had no idea.

“you were giving jj…pointers. for the… bedroom.” you relay shyly, suddenly losing all your confidence. simply the memory of that day left your cunt fluttering, already lubricating itself.

“ah. i remember now.” he sounds tense, like he can’t tell how you feel about it. “not exactly an ideal topic for… the library, you know?”

“mhm… anyway, i was pretty impressed.”

you hear him smile, placing his pencil down all together. bingo.

“okay… and what exactly was it that impressed you might i ask?”

you suck in a shaky breath, hoping you don’t come across like some insane gooner all of a sudden. you’d say you’d done a good job at hiding your arousal for him in all the occasions you’d hung out.

“well… all of it. you seem to really know how to make a… make a girl feel good. probably better than i know how to— whatever.” you say the last part quietly, in disbelief that you were being so open. you were thinking with your pussy, you couldn’t help it.

he pauses, and for a split second you feel a wave of embarrassment. but then he speaks.

“at the risk of not sounding very humble, i’d say i have a good success rate.” he sounds so warm, so fond of you — it makes you feel comfortable enough to continue. “in the past—” he adds quickly. “i don’t… talk to any other girls but you now. don’t… don’t wanna…. touch any girl but you now. just to make that clear. you know.”

the tension is so thick and hot that it’s stifling all of a sudden and you’re not even infront of eachother. your mouth moves without your permission.

“how?” you breathe.

“…how?” he repeats, leaning back in his desk chair in his student apartment. it was times like these he was thankful he didn’t have a roommate. it was times like these you were grateful that yours had gone on vacation.

“how would you… touch me?” you’re so quiet that you’re surprised it picks up on the mic.

“uh, well… any way you’d like it. i think it’s important that sexual partners… communicate, and stuff you know? the guy should never be too proud to ask the girl what she likes. so… what do you like?” he licks his lips, staring straight at the wall.

“i… dont really know. i don’t have much experience. not good experience anyway.”

“thats okay—” he coo’s kindly as your voice overlaps once more with—

“i think i like—”

“— oh, no go ahead. what do you like sweetheart?” sweetheart. you squeeze your legs shut at the casual way it rolls off his tongue.

“…i think i’d like you to take the control… be the dominant one i guess. i like feeling…”

“taken care of?” he answers for you and you nod, before realising he can’t see you.

“mhm. yes.”

“well i am pretty confident that i can be that for you. like, one hundred percent confident. can do it just like you want it, pick you up, pull you down, turn you around… all that good stuff. it makes sense.”

you exhale, practically trembling as your legs fall open slightly, unable to stop yourself from trailing a hand down your stomach into your pyjama shorts.

“mhm?”

“yeah. but that stuff comes later, i literally just wanna focus on learning your body first, you know? how to touch you. every pussy is different, not to be crass or anything. i think to answer your question i’d just lay you down and finger you nice n’ slow, figure out the basics. make you feel nice.” he lists it off so… normally. like it’s obvious to him.

you sigh, spreading your juices through your folds and forget to respond for a moment. that is until he says your name and you open your eyes.

“hm?”

“are you touching yourself? to my voice?”

you feel your face get hot, shame creeping up your neck. all you can squeak out is an “i’m sorry.” and he chuckles.

“you have nothing to apologise for. i’m riling you up and it’s not fair but by all means, continue. god i—” he sighs, and you hear him shuffling. what he’s really doing, is reaching down to palm at his erection through his sweatpants— exam long forgotten about. this has all his attention. “—i wanted to be all… respectful i guess. wait until the time was right, but… but i just wanna make you cum. so hard. so many times.” he lets loose a little, reaching down to pull his cock out. it’s then he hears it, that pretty pained whimper whilst you rub yourself— no holding back now.

“i’ve wanted you so bad from the day we first met. but — but wanted to be a good girl. show you i’m more than—”

“i know, and you are. you are. oh my god, screw this exam. i should be there. i’ll tell you what, okay — i’m gonna talk you through this orgasm, but i want you to remember how it feels to cum on your own fingers — ‘cause, well — that’s not gonna be happening anymore. it’s all me now, honey. all me.”

[enihk-writes]

[someone older]

pairing: older!multi-fandom men x gn!they/them!reader

reader is written to be in their early twenties, under twenty-five and fresh out of uni with their first degree and no corporate work experience.

summary: shorts about old men and a younger beau to-be

content warning: big age-gap relationships // superior-subordinate power imbalance // possible infantilization // some form of saviour-complex // (some unintentional) manipulation

characters: zhongli (genshin impact) // neuvilette (genshin impact) // jing yuan (honkai star rail) // tang gunak (return of the blossoming blade) // dokgo (return of the mad demon) // chongyue (arknights) // shamane (RE:1999) // hiromi higuruma (jujutsu kaisen) // ryū (gokurakugai)

author's note: my lovely oomfs i need yall to look away and pretend im doing okay,,, the demons and the little voices in my head have won and taken over..... i have to make that middle-aged man pregnant so so so so bad it's terminal... (head in hands)... OUGHHHHKKKGSHHH (coughs blood and straight up dies)..... looking at the list here i really have a type huh....

[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]

ZHONGLI who had lived for long enough to have seen and experienced almost everything one could see, was still taken aback when he felt a familiar throb in his heart as he conversed with the new face of the artisan's alley. a fledgling who had just left their nest and was beginning to make their way into the world — your naivety much unlike your more seasoned neighbours who knew how to set the prices of their goods to gain the maximum profit. you were often tricked and scammed out of selling your wares at their proper price, too scared to stand your ground and disrespect your older customers. the former archon couldn't bear to see a budding talent, such as yourself, sell themselves short out of expected social courtesy. he often found himself buying your highest-priced works even if he had to empty his entire wallet. you were beyond grateful for his patronage, even offering a commission, free of charge. that's just how bad business was before he stepped in. oh you poor thing, now that he knows how easy it was to get you dancing in his palm, how could he let you meet better opportunities? he was your lifeline, the only way you were going to make it in this career you chose. and you better not forget that.

NEUVILETTE knew that he shouldn't be so enamoured with the new hire. really. a being who had been alive for as long as he falling in love with someone thousands of years their junior? he wanted to rip his hair out. the chief justice approached this predicament as he would with almost anything he deemed annoying — avoidance. sending you out on errands that kept you out of the office for the whole day, giving days off to everyone if there was nothing on the agenda, having you go sort out documents in the filing room, and a whole host of other things that made sure you and him wouldn't cross paths. once he had a clearer mind to sit down and think, he is immediately riddled with guilt. weren't his actions akin to that of a black company employer? you on the other hand, could not be happier to hit the jackpot. good pay, regular days off, responsibilities that didn't require you to rack your brain too much. this was everything an energy-saving adult like you could ever want. it must be nice to frolic around and stay blissfully unaware while your boss was in the middle of a mental breakdown alone in his office.

JING YUAN was a calculating man, despite the commonly held belief that he never really took things too seriously. he kept a rather consistent air of nonchalance so impenetrable that it annoyed you whenever you couldn't discern what was on his mind at that moment. your after-hours hobby these days was to drop by the community starchess club and play a few rounds with the people there. and who else was waiting there at your seat every day? your damned boss. the elders who were there swooned over the handsome general, remarking about how you and him made a great pair — much to your chagrin. the man would always send a blinding smile in your way as you got closer, even going so far as to help you settle down. the routine was always the same each night. you would play against him for at least five rounds consecutively, lose against him in almost every single match, play against the other club members, gather your things and go home for the day. the general would also coincidentally be done with his activities. he offered to walk you to your front door, you've learnt from the one time you refused that the general was unusually talented in pulling an extremely sad, pathetic, wet and kicked puppy face. unfortunately, you were too nice to reject him further. ah, but now that he knew of that weakness of yours, you'd better expect that he would be pulling the same trick again soon.

TANG GUNAK felt that he was far too geriatric to be feeling this way. especially when he had adult children of his own. the youngest of whom was only a few years older than you were. a talented person, emerging at the top of your class in the academy meant that the world was your oyster. so why had you decided to come down to sichuan and work as an aide in this family? the patriarch had no clue, and he certainly didn't know how to even bring up the question. at first, he had hoped that perhaps you and one of his children would be wed but as time passed, it became increasingly obvious you were not interested in them at all, rather you had set your sights on the patriarch himself. him? the widower? the poor man who had only felt the touch of his dead wife? he was very scandalised that the young aide of his house was so open about their attraction to him. however, it seemed nobody in the household was on his side. not even his own flesh and blood. though for all that forwardness, he never expected that you would be so hesitant and shy when you were alone with him. it was endearing how you became more diligent whenever that happened, how you would engross yourself in your work just to pretend he wasn't there with you. the next time he looked up from what he was doing, you were passed out on your desk. he moved over to carry you back to your quarters — it was deep into the night right now anyways, so nobody would see him with you in his arms. he tucked you into bed, leaving as quickly as he came. the glimpse of his own flushed face in the reflection of the window never left his mind the rest of that week.

DOKGO had agreed to follow his disciple to town only because said disciple was going to throw a tantrum in his courtyard and the older man was not in the mood to deal with the adult child. the master pretended to not be acquainted with his own disciple when the man began to flirt with the women passing by. he walked on and sat down at a vacant bench in front of a teahouse. his troublesome disciple eventually shook off the girls clinging onto him and joined his master at the table, a string of apologies falling out his mouth when he caught sight of the older man's disapproving glare. only when the younger man offered to pay did the old master's hardened expression fall softer — fine, he said with a grunt. the second headache of the day came in the shape of you, a wandering merchant, or so you said. you slipped in to sit next to the master after the disciple had graciously allowed you to. not like the older man could oppose when there weren't any empty seats in the vicinity. while the conversation was lively as you talked with the disciple about your travels, he could only focus solely on the callouses of your palms, something a merchant who says they are not a martial artist shouldn't have. you had noticed his scrutinising gaze, throwing him a quick grin as you continued the chat with his disciple. oh? he could only wonder what that was about. shame that his dull, blockheaded disciple had let that slip past him. the master wonders if he should up the training regime when they get back.

CHONGYUE was up and early, as he usually does, leading the daily morning exercise with the other operators. the doctor not being there was somewhat expected, but you going missing? that was a first. when the morning exercise was over, he headed up to your room to check on you, finding the door slightly ajar. cautiously, he walked into the dark room, you had a bag of junk near the entry, from the looks of it you were living off cup noodles and soda, again. no wonder you were now curled up in bed all sick. he might have to give you an earful later, but for now, he puts aside your laundry and took out the trash. he goes down to the canteen, ordering some warm chicken porridge and even stopping by the nurse's office to pick up whatever he thinks you might need. this time, you were now somewhat awake. grumbling and muttering complaints under your breath from the disturbance, he helped you sit up. you insisted on feeding yourself, but he would have none of it. you could only comply and open your mouth wide every time he brought the spoon to your lips. you finished the food and even took the medicine obediently, earning praise from the man himself. before he left, he rubbed some medicinal balm on your stomach, layering warm blankets and patted you back to sleep, reciting an abbot's chants as he did so. the nostalgic feeling was comforting. you should thank him when you got better — maybe he might be interested in a popular classic novel from your home country, or should you try your luck with the lacquer pots instead?

SHAMANE spotted a figure hunched over the running stream near his hut as he was out collecting the fresh water he would need for the day. when they didn't answer his calls, he walked over, not too worried about whether the figure was a dangerous critter or not. the snap of a twig had them spin their head in his direction — that's when he met your eyes. you both stared at the other, sizing each other up. when he decided that you were not a threat, he introduced himself with his signature smile. you did the same, albeit quieter, still a little peeved from seeing a large bearded man in the middle of nowhere. friendly as ever, he kept the conversation going. he talked about himself, he asked about you, and so on and so forth until you finally admitted to him that you had gotten lost in the mountains, also you had twisted your ankles. he pointed to his hut and asked if you wanted to rest in there until you got better, how could you say no? the month when you lived under the same roof as him passed by quickly, and soon enough it was time for you to go back down the mountain. when you both parted ways at the entrance of the village, there was an air of reluctance in saying goodbye. you promised to write to him, maybe even visit him. he only laughed you off, not expecting much to come out of that. though when he received his sister's letter not long after, he thought about taking you with him to his hometown. but ah, isn't visiting each other hometowns a thing expectant newlyweds do? well, he could always pretend he didn't know about these things, couldn't he?

HIGURUMA was pretty friendly with the tenants renting out the office space next door. all of whom were fresh design school graduates trying to start a business together. you were the one he's grown the most familiar with, the unofficial boss of the company and the one who was single-handedly juggling your own practice along with other administrative duties. he helped you where he could, the doors to his own law office always open to you — even in the wee hours of the night. you would sit cross-legged on the big swivel chair as both of you engrossed yourselves in your respective work with the boxes of takeout splayed all over his table. when it was late enough that you missed the last train, he drove you back to your apartment. and everytime you sat in the passenger seat, he would reach over to pull the seatbelt on for you. you could have done it yourself but how were you supposed to pass up the chance to have him come this close? enough to even catch a whiff of his cologne? the lawyer himself knew that you were capable enough to do something this simple, but he couldn't help but enjoy the way you tried not to look at him as he did this each time. the ride back was quiet and serene, your tired body sank into the plush of his car seats and soon you were knocked out cold. even when you were both already parked outside your residence, you still wouldn't rouse. he clicks the seatbelt off you, even going so far as to push the seat back so you were lying more comfortably. you've done this enough times where he has a blanket to cover you with as he waited for you to wake up. which you would, and feel so ashamed. he thinks about how cute you were babbling out your apologies and thanks, all while scrambling to pull yourself together and out his car. only to repeat this whole song and dance the very next night.

RYŪ was a bit of a recluse. never really leaving his room unless it was for a really good reason. which was rare, and by rare it was almost never. but a human had to eat, shit and get clean — which was where you came in. as the designated errand runner for the organisation, you were the one that ended up having to take care of that guy's day-to-day needs. you might have hated him at first, with how picky he was with his food, even the brand of his necessities had to be the exact right one. doesn't matter if the stock ran out, you had to go out there and haunt for a place that still has it or else he wouldn't even entertain your presence. the one good thing you had going about you was that you were adaptable, learned things quick and was light on your feet. if things went south, you always had a backup, and a backup for the backup, you get the idea. the man, mayhaps out of the other's insistence, but you liked to think that he had warmed up to you, started to initiate conversations. at some point whenever you brought him his meals, he would make you sit and watch him eat. at first, you didn't know what to talk about, but then you also started bringing your own lunchboxes to eat alongside him, and you talked his ear off about what you made that day. over time, you both fell into a routine and on days when he's kept you a little too long with him, you'd stay over and crash on his couch. and after more time had passed, he's already got some of your clothes together with his in the wardrobe. hell, he even bought a bigger sofa just so you could sleep better whenever you stayed over. give it more time and who knows, you might end up moving in completely, not that this old hack would mind too much.

[tragedyofdevotion]

disregard

Yandere Neuvillette x reader

Mentions of torture and blackmailing

Implied nsfw, not explicit

I hate you.

I wish you died.

These are the words you swallow up everyday as you wake up and see him looking gently at you.

You ignored him and his damned lovesick gaze in favor of the more important task to do: to get out of bed.

Despite the impression he gave as a respectable gentleman, he was never restrained during his nightly routine with you, always leaving you bruised and tired and legs too weak to stand properly. After all, a dragon will remain a beast, an animal, no matter what kind of titles as he accumulated in living among humans, pretending among humans.

The Iudex, a beloved Chief Justice of the Fountaine, a symbol of Fairness.

Under his watch, no instances that might go against the ideal of the country is allowed.

But even before you personally knew him in this way, you could not understand the trust people had on him.

If he truly valued justice, will he allow the trials to be used as entertainment for the public as if it was some kind of theatrics?

Would your best friend's father be wrong accused and meet untimely death?

Would the true culprits behind your father's death be running amock while your best friend is trying the most that she could to prove her father's innocence?

No, they wouldn't.... if Neuvillette truly valued justice and tried to find the truth behind the incident like the blonde traveler who finally uncovered the real culprits of the incident.

You hated Neuvillette for pretending something he most certainly wasn't, a human with humanly emotions.

So, you were never a fan of his.

However, back then, you weren't fully aware of how much of injustice he was willing to commit to secure his lover treasure.

As you pull back the bed sheets and tried to get up, he offered to help you, like a lover facade he is dead set on continuing.

But you ignored him, and got up on your own wobbling and shaky.

Your body was littered by his artworks of kiss marks, bite marks and hand prints. But he admire them on you as if you are the goddess of beauty herself.

"Good morning, my love."

He said his voice sweet and sugary unlike the tone he made when declaring your lover guilty for a murder you were sure he never committed.

In exchange for securing your boyfriend a safe and peaceful life in meropide fortress, you had to jump into the jaws of the awaiting beast. (So, the rumors that the Index was good friends with the Duke were true. Or at least, they were close enough to be partners in crime in making your life miserable.)

You again ignored his voice and put on your dress to cover up your body from his disgusting gaze and walked into the bathroom.

You wonder if your best friend is still trying to find you. The poor girl has just lose her two most trusted subordinates. You want nothing more than to run to her and hug her tight to say that you are okay, you are fine, you are not going to leave her.

You felt arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. The person, predictably, was none other than your husband.

You pushed away his hand and continued washing your face.

In the mirror, you could see Neuvillette looking at your reflection with puppy eyes begging for an ounce of affection.

Oh, just how much you want to poke out those eyes with a knife.

But you refrained from actually doing it because

1. He is the Hydro Sovereign whose strength rival that of Archons so your attack would probably be ineffective.

2. If you so much as point anything sharp in his general direction, your boyfriend has to face the tortures that would make grown adults to faint just by hearing it.

(You once tried to attack Neuvillette using the power of your Anemo Vision but not only did it not work, the Duke made you watch your boyfriend being tortured in front of you.)

After freshing yourself up, you ate the breakfast as silently as the morning before.

If there was one good thing about Neuvillette, he has to go out for the whole day.

So, if only you endured the most agitating breakfast of him staring at you as you eat, you will have the monster out of the house.

"I will be going out. I will try to be home as soon as I can."

You opted out his voice and laid back down on your bed and pull up covers to get some sleep to compensate for the loss of it last night.

You heard him going out of the room to go to the court for whatever trials awaiting him.

It rains in Fountaine today, too.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow part 9

part 1, prev part

Wayne cries when he’s allowed to see Eddie again. Able to see his whole face unobstructed without the breathing tube. He looked so much more peaceful like this. Like he’s just asleep, nothing more. The calmest sleep of his whole damn life.

Eddie was never one to be able to sleep well. Waking up at odd hours of the night or staying up until the sun’s about to rise. Finding the most uncomfortable looking ways to finally fall asleep. The roaring storm he is during the day reduced to quiet snores.

If Wayne listens right, he can almost hear it. Among the other buzzing in the room, every few seconds there is a sharp inhale then a raspy exhale. His boy, breathing on his own.

He is so close. He is so close to being right here again. Right in this room, filling the emptiness with his energy. Making the best out of a bad situation. Just like he always has. All he has to do is open his eyes and then he will be free.

Well, except for the chain stilled clasped around his wrist. Glinting in the light, taunting him. Letting anyone who walks past know that his boy is dangerous. A criminal. The freak turned out to be what everyone said he was. No matter what is actually true.

Truth is, Wayne’s not too sure what’s going to come from this all. The chief claims that he’ll fix this. Get the charges dropped and make sure Eddie doesn’t get carted off to jail as soon as he can. But that won’t change the talks of the town. The stares he’ll receive just walking down the street. The way that parents will hide their children behind their legs, and people will walk faster to get away. While he’s just living a normal life. Just being him.

To be fair, Eddie always turned a few heads. He didn’t exactly fit the mold the rest of the town made for people. And even if he did, the scar that’s refusing to fade on his cheek is sure to make people stare. He didn’t deserve it then and he didn’t deserve it now.

Like will never return back to normal. Their home was split in two and falling into pieces. Barely any of their belongings salvageable. Everything Wayne’s worked for to provide, just gone. Things he can never get back.

His hat collection. All his mugs. The box full of Eddie’s old school pictures in the hall closet. Eddie’s music. His guitars. Their life. Gone without explanation.

Thing is, Wayne’s not dumb. He knows that earthquakes don’t just happen like this. Making almost a perfect “X”, meeting at town hall. Not even effecting the towns surrounding Hawkins. Forever marking this town as the haunted hell hole everyone claims it to be.

Things have been going wrong in Hawkins for years now. All the way back to that case of Henry Creel, killing his family the way that he did. Replicated by that girl in his living room. That poor girl, taken way to soon.

Wayne will never forget walking in to her body that morning. Seeing the way a human body can be pushed to the limit. Bent beyond recognition, face morphed into faces only seen in horror movies. Never meant to be real.

But there it was, lying on his living room floor. He phoned the police as fast as he could, stepping out of the house right after. Sitting on the table outside to smoke. Try to wipe the image off his mind. But it was still burned.

That whole week, Wayne was convinced that he would find Eddie that way. Have to bury his nephew without even properly saying goodbye first. Be so scared he couldn’t even look at his face to do so.

The image came to him in dreams. Eddie’s body contorting itself just that like girl’s. Falling limp before him, dead. Over. And over. And over again it played. Didn’t give Wayne a break. It was the hardest week of Wayne’s life.

Until that Wheeler girl found him at the makeshift shelter in the high school Explained to him what happened and he rushed to the hospital. Saw his boy with the incubation tube down his throat. Knowing he might never wake up again. Then it became the hardest time Wayne’s ever had to live through. Where the minutes bleed into hours at an excruciating pace. And the days pass without change. The only signal being the sun’s rise and fall. Only knowing the date when he goes to clock in for his shifts.

The next day is the same as the one before. But better than they have been. Eddie’s face remains unobstructed. Nothing but the clear tube resting under his nose, making sure that there’s enough oxygen in there. But he can breathe on his own. The levels aren’t changing. If anything, they’re improving. His brain activity is starting a slow rise.

It’s good.

Wayne finds it hard to believe at points. Nothing seems to be going well at all. He’s still homeless, breaking his back at work, and here the rest of the time. He needs some good to come back to his life.

Sometime around noon, Dustin comes into the room. Sits next to Wayne without saying anything. Just sits and stares at Eddie. Looking at him.

It’s the most Eddie’s looked like himself all week.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Wayne finally speaks.

“My mom let me stay home today. Thought I could use the rest, after everything that happened yesterday.”

Wayne nods, looking at the kid. How the tired made him look years older. The way he holds himself like the world rests on his shoulders. The way the light slowly dimmed each time he sat in the chair next to Wayne. Flipped through the pages of his book with less flourish. Lost the character’s voices as the words continued. Half falling asleep during some of the passages.

“And you’re spending that here instead at home. Getting some sleep.”

Wayne feels the need to look after this kid. Sees the hopelessness as he came in day after day. Nothing changing. Saw the way he broke with the news of his friend. This was almost too much for him. Eddie wouldn’t want him to worry like this. Not about him.

Dustin nods, determination weak in his eyes. “I didn’t get to see him yesterday. I needed to see him. He looks-. He looks better now.”

“He does.”

Wayne takes a deep breath. “You know, your friend made a good point yesterday. If this is too much for you, you don’t have to visit as much as you do. Eddie wouldn’t want you to strain yourself.”

There aren’t many things that Wayne and the Harrington kid would ever agree on, but seeing this kid the way he is right now, there’s one. Dustin needs to stop pushing himself to be here all the time. Not when it’s breaking him slowly each time he walks through those hospital doors.

Wayne can handle this, he’s been around long enough to know how to. Dustin’s just a kid, he doesn’t need this responsibility to take that away from him.

“I don’t care,” Dustin snaps. “I don’t care what he wants. And I don’t care what you want. Especially since you can’t care to say it in your own words. Using his instead. I need-.” He takes a shaky breath. “I need to know that I didn’t watch him die. I need to know that he’ll live.”

A crack just broke through Wayne’s chest. “You were there? You were there when my boy-. You saw what happened to him?”

Before Dustin can even try to respond, Steve storms into the room. “You want to explain to me why your mother just called me in a frenzy having no idea where you were?”

Dustin visibly deflates. “Steve, I can explain.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. You were supposed to take it easy today, take care of yourself. Instead, you run off and make it all the way here by yourself. How, by taking the bus? Riding your bike?”

“I had to see him,” Dustin cries. “I feel like shit knowing that he’s here and I’m out there. Fine and walking and awake. He deserves to be awake.”

The anger in Steve’s face fades, leaving nothing but sadness behind. He’s breaking just as hard as Wayne is for this kid.

“I know he does.” Steve pulls over a chair to get on Dustin’s eye level. “He should be here like the rest of us, and it sucks that he isn’t. And I know you think that this is all your fault, but it’s not. Eddie made a choice, and that choice was to protect you. No matter how much you hate it, it’s true.”

“He didn’t have to do it the way he did. There were other options.”

Wayne can’t even pretend to understand what they’re talking about. It seems so serious that his presence almost feels like an intrusion.

“Not to him. Not to me. If it were me in his place, I would have done the exact same thing.” Steve takes a deep breath. “You can’t keep killing yourself because you think it’s going to make it better. I might not have known Eddie that long, but he cares a lot about you. He would want you to be kind to yourself.”

Wayne’s watching as Dustin’s defenses break. The vulnerable kid is all that’s left. He nods, whispering something that Wayne can’t hear. When they stand, Steve pulls him into a hug, holding him like it’s his own kid. Maybe on some level he is.

“Wait,” Wayne calls out before Steve leaves. “Is that really how he got hurt? Protecting that kid?”

Steve nods, looking straight at Eddie. “What’s worse, he did that to protect me too. That wasn’t his job.”

Steve leaves without saying another word. Leaving Wayne with so many more questions than answers.

next part

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[transformers-spike]

Please author, TFP Megatron x human Reader but they (if you can, AFAB) are into being bitten. Throw in some knife play in it?? Maybe?? I mean his teeth do qualify as knife play I think??? Also Megatron spoils them with aftercare because he is the evil tyrant but with a special spot for his favorite human

I'm kinda showing the aftermath of Megatron's biting featuring poor Knock Out. I hope you got your tetanus shot

“Hold still,” Knock Out tells you while disinfecting a particularly bad gash. He’s been at it for a while now, switching his attention to and from the monitor displaying a wide variety of human skin lesions and wikihow articles on how to treat them properly. You’ve been sitting on the medical table for a while now, feet dangling off the ledge like a child ignoring the safety protocols of the Grand Canyon. If his helm wasn’t on the line, you’re sure he would have gladly slapped you right off the edge himself. Instead, he watches over you with the determination of someone unwilling but forced to keep a cockroach alive no matter how often it crawls under their shoe. You’ve been to the medical bay enough times to cause Knock Out at least one mental breakdown while the actual Breakdown watched, bewildered, as the Chief Medical Officer tried to make sense of human anatomy despite the tangible disgust he harbors for your organic biology. Eh, you’re probably stretching it – he wouldn’t have silently threatened to squeeze your organs out of your body if he was that disgusted. Although, you must admit, you love when he fusses over you like a mother hen keeping its suicidal chick from repeatedly drowning itself. Megatron’s handiwork has been especially brutal, not that you mind. Even in his mass-displaced form his strength is unparalleled, it makes you wonder just how much he holds back, how easily he could tear out your jugular with his dentae alone. He is a massive predator, after all, by human and Cybertronian standards. The decision he made to file down his dentae into pointed tips must have skyrocketed his success rate in the pits through sheer intimidation factor. Maybe Cybertronians aren’t exactly known for having evolved a “bite when you’re cornered” reflex like Earth fauna, but you’re pretty damn sure Megatron can bite a chunk out of someone’s chassis if he’s angry enough. You try not to imagine Starscream with enough holes to qualify as a new type of vegan swiss cheese. Knock Out hasn’t said it to your face, but he’s alluded to sedating you in the medical bay if only to put a stop to your inane talent for sticking limbs you shouldn’t into Megatron’s intake. Alas, you do not give a fuck, and if he has the wrecking balls for it, he’ll have to answer to his leader for his transgressions (and promptly get his interface panel smashed in before he can so much as activate his vocalizer). Checkmate, glitch. 

From the furrow of his optical ridge you can tell he’s actively purging any incentive to glance down at your tits and comment on the sheer damage caused to them. This, you’ve grown acquainted with. Call them bazonkers all you want, but these bad girls can only take so much abuse before you start crying. You’ve cursed breast tissue enough times to solidify your distaste for their uselessness outside of child rearing (disregarding sex). It takes a slight graze of Megatron’s dentae against them and you’re already trying to escape your mortal coil from the pain alone. Yes, said pain has made you orgasm. No, you refuse to take a good hard look at yourself and reevaluate what in God’s name is wrong with you.

Megatron by all means isn’t the soothing type. But after having experienced his specific brand of “gentle” brutality he’s grown to watch over your rapidly rising and falling form as you gingerly touch the gashes on your skin. Cybertronians, you’ve learned, can emit a purr similar to an engine (courtesy of Knock Out). Megatron however, having no Earth-based alt-mode, can only produce the dull rumble of Cybertronian aircraft – and that you learned when he scooped you up like a newborn deer and placed you on his chassis for safe-keeping. His servo, claws sharpened to perfection (for the pits, logically), switching between stroking your empty little head trying to make sense of your surroundings and caging your bleeding body under its grip.

Knock Out wacks you over the head with the back of his digit.

“Ow what the fuck?” You snarl.

“Stop daydreaming and show me the inside of your thighs,” he says with the complete lack of amusement of a convenience store clerk asking a customer to stop pushing a pull-door.

“Oh. My bad,” you hiss none-too-apologetically, nonchalantly spreading your legs and letting him figure out the horrorshow any sane human would have fainted experiencing. Except you. Because you have the spite of a cockroach. A flying cockroach aiming for Knock Out’s optic at the speed of light.

In the silence that follows, you can hear his processor drafting his resignation letter.

[zimt-deathnote]

In your au do the kids get to have visits from their parents? I am kind of imagining days where all the parents are allowed to come like in some special weekends or something, even though that would kind of ruin all the fuss about being anonymous and protecting the kids’s identities.

I was thinking about it because I realised how uncommon your idea of an hypothetical family for Near was, I think it might be the first time I see anyone imagining them as normal affectionate people.

Then I thought about Mello’s reaction in finding out that in fact Near does not come from a breed of vampires and has a very normal family and a life outside of being an involuntary pain in his ass.

I don’t know, I thought it might be a funny idea.

Thank you for reading ���️

Sorry that last bit is too funny not to draw haha

They do get visits from their parents! Some parents visit every other weekend, some parents barely ever show up (poor Matt :( ) and I’m sure there’s some special occasions where all the families are invited to come visit. Like an open day. The thing with aliases is really hard to explain this way but I imagine the kids themselves make it a game to keep their names hidden and consider it kind of losing the game once the name gets out. So parents visits are always a way for the other kids to listen up if they hear the name being used by a family member. It’s usually just a matter of time until the name gets out but there are some kids considered legendary in this game.

Near is one them. I can see his family absolutely getting this game. Near just told them ONCE “I am “Near” in this institution. Please refrain from calling me any other name. The other kids mustn’t know. It’s a game we play.” and his family collectively being like “Got it, Near.” And they all ace it.

Matt has the “””advantage””” of his only family member rarely ever showing up. And whenever Chris does show up, he never calls Matt by his real name but uses everything from little bugger, mate, lad, sport, champ, big guy, sonny, pal, chief, tiger to buddy … Matt turning around flipping all the kids who lurk around the corner to get his name off while he walks away with his dad haha

Mello is scared of every visit and boy does his mum visit often. He musn’t lose the game under any circumstance but his mum is completely oblivious of the stakes, she doesn’t give a single damn or straight up forgets OR even says the name wrong (Mellie, Malon, Molo, …), no matter how many times he tells her it’s MELLO, GOD DAMNIT. It’s a blessing in disguise, Ivanka uses croatian nicknames for him a lot (sine, zlato, srce, mali, mili, beban, …). Beban is the one she uses most (baby boy), and all the slavic kids holler when they hear the troublemaker being called babyboy.

----- My other socials Commission Info Let’s drink some Ko-Fi! 🍵

[hunnidmilly]

Beg. Sequel to Soap. |r.r|

(a/n) real fast. i wanna say thank you so much for all the love you’ve given me over my last 4 writings. it means the world to me absolutely. milly loves you. <3.

sometimes, it’s just too good to not come back for more. Sequel of Soap. Completely inspired and credited to @itjazzbicch ‘Cheiftess’ Series.

warnings: smut, choking kink, unprotected sex (milly does not support this message. wrap it up.), enemies to…official sneaky links??), face DOWNNN ass UPPP, poor use of present and past tense,

parings: enemy!roman x black!reader

word count: 4.3K…never say i never gave y’all anything.

(tags: @fame-ass-ers @squishyguishy @vebner37 @smuts-whore @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine)

*takes place 2 months after Roman Reigns Vs. Kevin Owens Feud 2021*

“Ladies and gentlemen, Daniel Bryan.” You smiled as the camera panned to the man next to you

You’ve known Daniel for a long time now. You were absolutely over the moon at his return to WWE. Behind the scenes, given your friendship with Brie and Nicole, you knew how hard he worked to make it back. It was something you admired about him.

“Y/N! How are you?” He enthusiastically responded to you

“I’m great! How are you doing? How are you feeling ahead of your triple threat match against Roman Reigns and Edge?”

“I’m feeling amazing! Absolutely over the moon! It’s going to be amazi—“

Daniel trailed off as a man appeared next to us. You turned as a certain short, obnoxious, man appeared next to you both.

“Daniel! Y/N! How are you guys doing on this fine evening?” Paul Heyman sarcastically asked

“Paul…hello.” You responded with a lack in your tone

You just knew this was a ‘special’ impromptu visit from Roman. He had his ways like that. Being around even when he wasn’t. It caused you to internally roll your eyes at the sneak attack.

“Did the Tribal Chief know this interview was going to be done?” He asked with a shit eating grin on his face.

“I don’t report back to you or him; thank you, Paul. Now, Daniel, do you think that on the grandest stage of them all, you can pull off such a performance? You and Roma—“

“The Tribal Chie—“

“Would you like to go back to your Daddy so I can finish my job?” You spat, cutting off Paul. “Wherever you end up, Brock Lesnar's locker room or Roman Reigns.”

“I—I—I have no clue what you are referring to. I do not w-w-work for Brock Lesnar anymore. Ms. Y/N, I am merely just trying to—“

“Thank you, Paul.” You grit your teeth as the cameras cut

You toss a sincere look to Daniel and give him a small side hug before turning to the man who quickly became a nuisance, “Listen. I don’t give a damn! I don’t care if you work for Brock, Roman, or Joe fucking Biden. You do not interrupt my job performance. And I know he sent you here on some possessive shit, trying to get a rise out of me. It’s written all over your fucking face. Move!”

You shove Paul out of your way, leaving him stunned in the middle of the hall. You went quickly to find Roman. Fighting against every nerve in your head telling you to turn around. After that small, impromptu meeting in the showers two months ago, you did all you could to stay away from him. Even not becoming his regular interviewer anymore. The last thing you needed was to be fuckbuddies with the man that Roman Reigns is. You could basically kiss your job goodbye if you knew it.

But, he just couldn’t seem to stay away from you. Everytime you turned around, it was like he’d be right there waiting for you. Causing more smart mouthed spats in the middle of the hallway. Anytime you both collided, you both would bicker. You’d think you and him were an old married couple. The majority of it wasn’t an act. Roman did get a rise out of you. He walked the earth with his third leg as if he controlled everyone around him, and they had to kiss the ground he walked on. He was still an asshole. After his initial thought that you’d come begging him for dick, you knew you had to prove him wrong. You didn’t need him. Not for sex…earth shaking sex. No matter how badly you wanted to call him to break you off again.

Your studded black boots clicked on the floor with every determined stride to his locker room. Before you got the chance to bang on it, as intended, it flew open with the 6’3 Samoan smirking down at you.

Roman knew he pissed you off. He knew ever trick in the damn book, on what would make your blood pressure rise. Hell, he wrote the book himself. You weren’t going to admit yourself, how much you wanted him? Fine. But he had plans to make you pay for that shit.

‘Oh, I’ll give him something to smirk about.’

“Who in the hell do you think you fucking are? You got Paul as my bodyguard now?” You snarl into his face, your heels giving you extra height to match him up

“Oh, please. What are you doing interviewing, Bryan? Hm? Answer me that first, baby girl.” He raises an eyebrow

“You have zero authority over me and whoever the hell I interview. You might be asskissing Vince, but your name isn’t anywhere near my checks. You don’t own me!”

“That’s not how I recall the story, Very…very far from it actually. Would you like a reminder?” He dropped his voice an octave deeper and smirked, leaning forward, “Remember, all you have to do is ask.”

“Why don't, instead, you go find where Paul is? We all know how quick he is to drop to his knees with a knife in your back at the reigning! Oh, so defen—”

“You think you're so fucking funny. Huh? I got a joke for you, go tell McIntyre how badly you turn cock drunk when you’re being pounded. How all it takes is for my cock to run over that bundle of nerves inside of you for you to gush down my clock like the whore you are?” Roman grits his teeth with his face mere centimeters from yours; pure agitation on his face at your mention of Brock Lesnar.

The last few weeks, you’ve been cautiously talking to a certain 6’5 Scottish man more and more. Drew was amazing. He treated you well—a sweetheart, if you must say. Movie dates, dinner dates, makeout sessions. Although you’d been holding out on him. Many times Drew slid his hand under your shirt, or would squeeze your backside. You’d always pull away and call it a night. Drew was attractive. Three months ago, you’d allow him a taste of you. Hell why not? He was attractive, strong, tall. But two months ago, you had sex with Roman. Absently, closing you off for any other guy. Admit it or not, it was amazing.

More than once, you’d catch yourself taking a warm, vanilla scented bubble bath, sliding your hand over your stomach, and heading down south…

You circled that small bundle of nerves before moving lower and sliding a finger in. Instinctively, your pussy welcomed your small finger and clenched around it. You threw your head back and sinked lower into the bathtub. Imagining it was Roman behind you, playing with your pussy. Your moans echoed into the bathroom as you worked yourself. Even while Roman wasn’t here, you could hear his voice in the back of your head. Coaxing you, bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“Slide in one more, babygirl…make her wetter for me.” He whispers into your mind.

“Romannnn!” You cry out in a whine as your orgasm squirts into the palm of your hand.

Your eyes opened as your chest raised up and down heavily.

Those nights happened more than once. You knew you were deeply involved with Roman. More than you wanted.

The mixed emotions weren’t helping. Roman tapped dance on the last nerve in your body. All over it, with a full dance routine. Why did you want him so badly, again?

“How about I have that same conversation with Paul? You and him spend an awful lot of time locked inside that room. Do me a favor, Roman. Stay the hell away from me, and for once, look in a mirror. I don’t give a damn about what titles you have or how many you have. You’re still a whiny ass crybaby. Bite me.” With that, you exhaled a sigh and turned on your heels to walk away with a small movement in your hips. You knew his gaze would be on your backside as you walked away

You’d be lying if you said the thought of calling him for another satisfied fuck didn’t occur to you. Every night when you laid awake using different toys or your hands, you threatened to grab your phone to call him. But you couldn’t. He’d have the upper hand. He’d know the control he possessed over your body. And damn, he had that hold on you good.

You straddled Drew’s waist as you both engaged into a heated make out session. Your tongue sliding back and forth against his as you both let out small groans and moans. What started as being in his hotel room watching a movie turned into becoming distracted by the soft kisses Drew placed on your neck. He makes a low growl sound from the middle of his chest as your fingers slide into his hair

“You're so beautiful, you know that?” Drew mumbles against your lips as his hands glides over your ass and hips, adoring the feeling of how big and round it felt in your hands.

You felt his hands slide over the front of your jeans, fingering with the button there, causing you to draw away from him, “I think we should call it a night. It’s getting late. And you know how Vince feels about being late.” You joke breathlessly at a dazed and confused Drew. You quickly stand to fix your clothes and grab your phone off the table.

“What’s up with you lately?”

You felt your heart sink with a small amount of guilt as you turned around to see Drew’s face adorned with embarrassment.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“You just…don’t seem as into this as I am.”

You felt a slight bit offended at his question. He thought you weren’t into this because of what? You wouldn’t have sex with him? “I have to have sex with you to be into this?”

“C’mon, I’m not fucking stupid. You barely even speak to me at the arenas, anytime we’re alone you keep checking your phone, and all I get is a few pecks and your ready to run for the fuckin’ hills.”

“Look. I don’t want people in my business. What’s the first thing you think people will ask if they see us together?”

“Who's gonna see us? Heyman? You don’t want him to spill to Roman you’re hanging around me?” Drew stands over you, his eyes wide with an evil look behind them. You’d think you were his enemy.

Your eyes nearly bulge out your head at Drew’s mention of Roman. Of course that night in the showers, everyone was gone. No one knew about your rendezvous, “Everyone sees you and him always arguing in the halls. So it’s two things. You’re either scared of him or fucking him.” He snarls

Drew’s face snapped to the side as you raised your hand back and slapped the taste from his mouth. Before you could make another strike you decided it would be best to just leave, throwing a glare at him as you walked past him. You couldn’t really be mad he guessed you slept you Roman. But you belonged to neither man. Drew had no right to insulate he owned you of some sort. If you didn’t want to have sex with him, he didn’t deserve a reason.

You quickly grabbed your things and walked away from Drew, straight out his hotel room. You felt yourself become overwhelmed at the thought of seeing Roman. His suite was on this floor in the far corner of the hall.

What if I knocked?

You brushed off your sexual urges as you headed towards the elevator to go down to your floor. You worked yourself into even deeper trouble. Drew had a few friends around the business and of course, he’d tell them how he couldn’t get you into bed. You could practically hear the “stuck up bitch” being thrown out to you already. Not mixing business with pleasure was now crossed into your new agenda permanently, you even made a mental note to create a tinder account.

You felt pathetic. How could you want someone who treated the rest of the world like shit? He didn’t even say please and thank you. You worked hard at resisting him, but that wall was slowly being bulldozed.

On cue, As you drifted into your own thoughts, the elevator dinged bringing you back into your consciousness. Just your damn luck, the pleasure stepped out the elevator blocking your entry.

“You came to deliver my message to your little boyfriend?” Roman smirks again, feeling accomplished.

Your eyes quickly glance over his body as you notice the black leather jacket, white tank top, black pants, and Jordan’s. You let out a huff as you move to the side to go around him before he steps in the same direction, “What the hell is your problem?” You questioned placing your hands over your hips letting out a sigh

“My problem? What’s yours? Why fight what you and I both know you want?” He asks stepping closer to you, sizing you up

You let out a snort with a roll of your eyes. This man was way too proud of himself. “Don’t boost your ego anymore than it is. Your head might just explode.”

“Fuckin’ admit it. You want me to break you off again. Give into you, but you’re in for a rude awakening. One thing people don’t do is lie to my face. Me and you both know right now, your pussy is dripping into those panties. Begging for me to make her submit to my every will. So do you, don’t you? You want that, don’tchu? To feel my cock stretching you out the way those fingers can’t? We both want it, and you know that. And that little boyfriend of yours? All of you belongs to me. Get that. Do you understand me?” He taunts, his face looming down over yours, his eyes thick with lust.

For the first time, since meeting Roman, you were quiet. You were stunned at his honesty. Your mouth felt dry at the thought of belonging to Roman. As much as you wanted to punch him dead in his jaw, who were you trying to convince? You wanted to feel him inside of you again. What happened in the showers would be just a mere rushed fuck. You wanted him to make you his.

“Now are you done acting like a little ass child? Be an adult and use your words. Tell me you want me, baby girl. Anytime you want some dick, just as-”

As if you were being hypnotized by his words, “I want you.” flew right out your mouth and onto his as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to your frame.

You could feel the white light behind your eyes bust, knowing you reached a moment of no return. There was no going back. Roman lowered his hands to your ass, squeezing it tightly, pulling you flush to his body. The kiss was hungry, he was rewarding you for your honesty by biting your bottom lip repeatedly. Your tongue explored his mouth as he slipped his own between your lips. The warm feeling in his chest erupted as his current wildest dream was about to come true.

Once again.

Romans hands slid downwards to the crease of your ass and your thighs, proceeding to lift you up allowing you to wrap your hands around his waist. You briefly wondered if he could hear your heart beating at a rapid pace. Your nerves were all over the place. This time was different. You felt more exposed at admitting you wanted to be his.

Roman opened the door to his suite, walking towards his bedroom. You let out a sequel as he threw you onto the middle of his bed. His eyes were dark and hungry. Before you could have a moment to change your mind, he silenced you with another kiss.

Whatever you were about to say didn’t matter, bitchy remarks or not, was the last thing on his mind. Roman wrapped his hands around your ankle, yanking you down the bed closer to his body.

“Take these off,” He growls out to you, tugging at your pants

With a little aid from yourself, you lift your hips to allow him to pull them off, revealing your hot pink lace underwear. You could see a snarl form on Romans face, remembering how just an hour ago you were with Drew.

Roman kneels onto the bed, covering your body with his as he smashes his lips onto yours. His hand ghosted slowly towards Your warm and wet heat. You parted your legs, slightly, giving his fingers the space they needed to explore your warmth and wetness covered by lace.

“Mmmm,” You sighed into his mouth, as his slipped his hand into the hand of your panties circling your clit

“Shut up.” He grumbles back

He slid his index and middle fingers into your pussy. You felt your breath hitch inside of your throat as he moved his fingers in and out picking up pace. You reached down to grip his wrist, attempting to brace yourself from being overheated with pleasure. Rather quickly, you felt your belly tighten with a small amount of pressure. Roman felt you clamp down on his fingers,

“Let go,” he whispers into your mouth. You began squirming, unable to remain still as pleasure hit your body in waves, nearly consuming you. Your lower half worked against the strokes of his fingers; riding them into oblivion.

“Ahhhh! Oh my God. Please,” You cried out, squeezing your eyelids together.

You briefly closed your eyes, gathering yourself from your clouded thoughts. You felt the bed dip, as Roman stood to his full height. You lay back into your elbows as you watched him undress himself.

“The next time you ever mention Lesnar or McIntyre to my fuckin’ face you’ll regret it. If I ever see you near him again, I’m going to make sure he knows personally who you belong to. You understand?” He grits out lowering his boxers, letting his girthy and long cock spring against his abdomen

You decided to test him a little bit and raise your legs to your chest, closing them, his view of your panty covered pussy now gone. “But I like McIntyre. We were jus—Shit!” You squeal as Roman pounces onto the bed, slapping the side of your plush thigh roughly, marveling at the jiggle it created.

“Y’wanna finish that sentence? You think you’re in charge, but I'm calling the shots tonight. Turn the fuck over.”

Roman growls, not giving you the chance to turn over yourself, and grabs your hips in a grip before flipping you over and pushing you into a deep arch with your face flush into the bed. Roman catches you spreading your legs a bit more causing him to chuckle, “Slide back onto me. You want it so bad, let me see you fuck yourself.”

You let out a moan as you feel the tip of Romans cock make contact with the entrance of your pussy. You push back, with a bit of force till the head of Romans cock makes its way inside your pussy. Getting impatient, Roman grabs your plush hips and pulls out. Letting out an impatient whine, you felt a chill down your spine as he licked a stripe up your pussy. He then surges forward pushing in his entire length in one move.

“Ah!” You gasped “Wait, fuc—“

“Nah, remember all that shit you were saying. You’re taking all of me tonight. Don’t you dare run from me either.”

Roman teased you with slow, deep strokes at first, before speeding up his pace. You turned your head into the mattress letting out screams.

He reached up grabbing your hair into a tight grip, pulling your head up, “Nah, let the whole floor know who’s fucking you right now.”

“You’re so fuckin—“

“Big?” Roman chuckles in a deep voice

“Conceited, Ugh!” You squeal, clawing at the sheets as his big and rough hand cracks on your ass.

“But whose pussy is creaming around me? Yeah? Look at her, swallowing this dick. Her dick. She knows who she belongs to, doesn’t she baby? Talk to me.” He praised, spreading your ass cheeks to watch your wetness coat his cock.

While you could feel your heart swell at the comment, him being yours, it served the same meaning for Roman. It fueled Romans ego more, at the squelching wet noises your pussy was making for him as he fucked you into the mattress.

You only got this way for him. He only got this way for you.

Yeah, you definitely can’t let him go now.

You let out a mewl as his thickness stretched you out, creating both pain and pleasure. That same familiar vein rubbing against your spot, “Ohh! Fuck, yes! I belon–I belong to you! It’s your pussy!” You moaned louder as the headboard began to slam against the walls as he fucked you faster.

You pushed your ass backwards and began throwing your ass back against his hips. Why did you do that?

He chuckled. “You throwing that ass back like a big girl, baby? You gon’ take this dick like one too.” Without waiting for you to respond, he deepened his strokes and picked up his pace.

“Ooh, shit!” You moaned, gripping the comforter. He was so deep in you, that you felt like he was fucking your heart. Feeling the coil in your belly, you clenched your muscles around his cock.

“You wanna show out, huh?” A deep growl escaped his throat. “I got something for your ass.” He announced before really starting to fuck you. I was talking about pulling out and sliding back in, fucking you. Your nails nearly drew rips into the sheets. Your pussy creating a slippery mess, letting him slide back in easily.

“Fuck!” You yelled, blindly reaching behind him to push at his abdomen, to give you a moment to catch your breath.

“What did I say? You’re taking all of me. I told you not to run, baby girl. Don’t act like you can’t take it. What about all that shit at the arena earlier, hm?” he said, grabbing your hands and pinning them against your lower back. He propped his foot up on the bed, and used your bounded arms to bring you against him to meet your thrust.

“Shit, Roman! Fuck! Make me take it!” You cried in pleasure.

There was no way Drew was ever getting a text back, a call back…shit an email. Especially, if he didn’t hear you practically calling out to god as Roman was engraving himself on you.

Roman hissed as he felt your pussy contract, creating a second skin for him. He knew you were close, and he wasn’t far behind himself, “Y’gonna cum for me, baby? My good girl. Cum all over me baby. Let me see it.”

“Mmmm, yesssss!” You moaned, throwing your head towards the ceiling. “Fuck… I’m cumming…Romannnn!” Your orgasm ripped through you—releasing a wave of wet heat all over Roman’s cock.

Roman’s spine shook as he felt your pussy tighten around him, keep him in, as you gushed all over his cock—warm wet heat circling around him. Tears coated your cheeks, as your orgasm ripped through you making your entire body convulse as you babbled incoherent words. Roman let out a roar as his own orgasm rushed to the core, deep and filling up your pussy, mixing your juices together, “Shit! Fuck yeah, baby!” His voice thick and heavy with rasp

You both collapsed on the bed, limbs tangled into each other, and sucking as much air as you could back into your lungs. After a brief moment, Roman raised up from the bed and disappeared into his bathroom. A few seconds later, he came out with a wet towel to clean the both of you off. You bit your lip, as the feeling of the warm towel moving against your pussy came over you.

Roman laid down next to you, his chest heaving up and down, before chucking to himself. His signature smirk coating his face.

“What?”

“Bet your ass knows better than to lie to me now. See what your little stubborn ass act denied you from?” He replies, his big dick attitude back on 10. But hell. He had the big dick to match, so.

“Do you ever get e-fucking-nough of being an asshole?”

“You spent two months running from me, getting on my fuckin’ nerves, makin’ everything 20x harder for me, fucking’ around with my money with those interviews. Whole time you wanted me to make you cum again. Stubborn ass, woman. I gotta say, the resistance act was sexy as hell.” He expresses before pulling you to him, to lay on his chest

“Don’t flatter yourself too much. It wasn’t an act, Tribal Chief.” You roll your eyes at his self centered moment of truth. Some things never change.

“Oh yeah, baby? What was it?” He questions before moving over on top of your sweaty frame

After a brief moment of eye contact, for once and for all you decided to settle it and let him win. Just this once. You raised up to place a more gentle kiss than the one you shared earlier. That was more hungry, sloppy, messy…this one was delicate, soft, tender. You wanted to tell him what you couldn’t say out loud. You pulled back and saw a look of admiration in his eyes.

“You’re mine.” Roman claims with a small smirk

“And you’re mine.” You respond back

“I’m yours.”

*please, leave me some comments, reblogs with funny stuff, and follow for more! i love interacting with u guys! send in any ask u guys have!*

[shalomniscient]

hi! may i request nsfw hcs of shalom in a sundress? 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

anon u r so galaxy brain for this............. licherally feeding my shalom delusions HLDSJHDLSJHD

(SUN)DRESS || shalom x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. cunnilingus, praise, pet names (pretty girl), mentions of public sex, fingering, strap-ons, riding

notes. this takes place post-canon :) also features implied chief!reader, because i can’t really see shalom ever truly falling for anyone else (sorry rahu 😔😔) also this is more fic than hcs because i wasn’t sure what to write for hcs….. sorry anon 😭😭😭

Shalom doesn’t wear sundresses often, but God help you when she does. The dress is form fitting and loose in the best of places, and it makes her seem almost ethereal, like she walked right off the set of some whimsical romance movie.

She enjoys the breeziness of the dress, and the amount of movement it allows—both very useful for when she convinces you to fuck her while she’s wearing it.

More often than not, she won’t be wearing anything underneath, allowing you very easy access to her cunt whenever you please. You could even tug the neckline down, if you so pleased, to access her full breasts. All this culminates in Shalom often testing your self control when you’re in public. Sometimes you wonder if she really does want you to just hike her dress up ever so slightly and fingerfuck her until she sees stars in some mall bathroom or a less visited corner of a park.

She likes to keep it on even in the comfort of your own home, and you’re not complaining much. She looks like a fucking vision when she rides your strap, her pretty little dress flowing and fluttering with each movement. Or when she’s on her back, silky hair splayed on the bed lile a halo as you fuck into her, dress bunched around her hips so you can see the way her cunt swallows your strap.

All in all, between the two of you, a sundress has become an unspoken invitation for sex. It’s a little unorthodox, but that’s the name of the game in your relationship, so you very much don’t mind at all.

Shalom is a woman whose every move is calculated. You know this from experience. From every move she makes, to every word she speaks, nothing is without purpose. It is a remnant from her days as a HUSH—though you’ve ensured she’ll never return to that life, it is nonetheless difficult for her to completely abandon that way of life after having lived it for a torturous amount of years.

All of this is to say that, Shalom deciding to go commando in a sundress today was 100% something she planned, even if she smiles and tells you otherwise.

Shalom looks real fucking good in a sundress, and she knows it. The bodice cut of the dress just makes the hourglass of her figure even more prominent, the wide neckline showing off her collarbones and her ample chest, usually obscured in her loose blouse and bulky Paradeisos-issued jacket.

The dress itself is a pastel shade of wine-red, a little lighter than her hair. Thin spaghetti straps show off her shoulders, and God, that open back—really, it was quite the achievement you lasted as long as you did.

Shalom laughs airily as you pick her up by her thighs and press her against a wall of your home. You felt like you’d been tortured the entire morning on what was supposed to be a peaceful promenade around town on a lovely summer morning. Instead, the mere sight of her in that damned dress has left your thoughts in complete and utter disarray. Now that you’re back in the privacy of your own home though, you press hot, open mouthed kisses against the pale column of Shalom’s neck like a woman starved, while her legs wrap around your waist.

“Eager, aren’t we?” she teases, fingers winding in your hair as you kiss lower, tongue and teeth laving at her collarbones.

“Wanted you the moment you put this fucking dress on,” you rasp. “Almost couldn’t wait to get home.”

Shalom chuckles at that. “Poor little thing.” It turns into a pleased groan when your hands find the globes of her ass and squeeze appreciatively, your thumbs rubbing circles over the indent of her hips. You swallow all of her noises with a greedy, devouring kiss. Fuck, you just can’t get enough of her.

“Pretty girl,” you mutter, as your hands slip under her dress. “So fucking pretty, all for me, hm?”

“All for you,” Shalom breathes out readily, eyes blowing wide as she watches you sink to your knees. The floor is hard, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when you come face to face with her bare, dripping cunt. She holds the lower half of her dress up for you, letting it bunch around her hips as you dive in.

The first stripe you lick along her sweet cunt has her sighing in pleasure. Slim fingers wind tightly in your hair as she tugs you closer to her sex, your nose pressing against her stiff clit. One of your hands grips her thigh and throws it over your shoulder, giving you more access to her. Shalom moans, high and loud as you plunge your tongue into her waiting cunt, lapping up her slick right from her twitching hole.

You practically make-out with her pussy, the wet sounds of your tongue fucking in and out of echoing around the living room. You glance up at her, and blood rushes to your core when you note the flush in her cheeks and the way she bites her lower lip between her teeth. It inspires you to keep going, to make her shatter from pleasure, so you withdraw your tongue and replace them with two fingers instead, right to the knuckle.

Shalom cries out, a sound so beautiful you wish you could capture it and keep it forever. But you can’t, so you decide to just pull more of them from her lips. Her ankle digs into your back as her body tenses up, and you feel her cunt tighten around your fingers, even as you scissor and curl them just the way you know she likes.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart?” you ask softly, pressing kisses to her thighs. Her body trembles, and the fingers in your hair tighten.

“J-Just like that, my heart,” she says breathily, hips starting to jerk as she careens towards that high. “Oh, love, I’m—“

You take the oppurtunity to dive back in and wrap your lips around her poor, swollen clit and suck and that’s all it takes for her to cum all over your fingers with a loud cry, almost a scream. You replace your fingers with your tongue as you help her ride out her orgasm, not letting a single drop of her slick go to waste. You don’t stop until she’s pushing your head away, hips twitching from overstimulation.

At that, you rise to your feet, and she lets her dress fall back how it’s supposed to. The waist area is terribly crumpled, but neither of you really care. You place a hand on her waist as she catches her breath again, and you resist the urge to pepper more kisses along her flushed chest and neck. Shalom has always had a somewhat poor constitution, so breaks were necessary in between.

“I should wear sundresses more often,” she muses eventually, leaning her head against the wall and offering you a smug smirk. You roll your eyes, but what can you say when you played right into her hands?

[simp-ly-writes]

Lasting Pictures: When We Are Together (pt.8)

Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Reader

Summary: John and 141 discover more about your whereabouts alongside the secrets you have been hiding from them. The lies, the cold shoulders and sleepless nights come swinging back in your face with vengeance yet never have such sweet words been shared in spite of it all. Your future awaits on the horizon, now it is up to you to decide who you are sharing in it.

Warnings: 6180 words, slowburn, swearing, mentions of blood, injury and torture.

A/N: I can't believe its already been 85 pages of this story, thank you all for the support! I hope you enjoy the sweet ending of this chapter!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

Back in London at Base

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN- KATE” Price shouts in the office space. An assistant shakes from behind the door with the force these words are projected with, doing their best to not eavesdrop from the hallway was a hard task as the rest of the task force… calmly waited in the hall while glaring daggers their way- not being allowed entry. 

Back inside the room, Laswell shakes her head as it drops into her hands, her elbows resting against the table as her usual bun falls out- her hair acting as a shield. “I don’t give a shit about what any General has to say- that is my squad member, my responsibility so do tell me why the FUCK they are in a differnet country operating outside of our military?” Price shouts out once more before taking a step back from leaning over the station chiefs desk, now walking in circles just in front of it and tossing a hand through his hair. 

Taking a deep breath, Laswell tries her best to formulate an answer without giving away too many details yet the Captain notices this change in her personality. “No- you do not get to hide answers away from me Kate. I have gone off the books, committed atrocities in the name of good- I deserve to know why at least. Or what about this- Kate,” The Captain stills, looking up at the ceiling for another ounce of patience as both of theirs were wearing thin. The boys in the hallway could be heard from through the door, piling question after question on the poor assistant.

Price turns his head towards Kate, casting his chin down- his eyes pointed, “Why was I NOT acknowledged when Dice was Injured on that last mission, why was I not noted on that interrogation- Christ, Laswell-”

“No John. You do not get to make these demands of me in MY office, on my base- I am not a secretary, I am not a doctor, and I am not going to tell you the answers when you integrate me, Captain. You could have had those last two answers if you got your jealousy issues over with and asked the damn lieutenant,” Laswell retorts while closing her laptop, she was taking herself off the clock early for today. Grabbing her coat, John blocks the door with his arms crossed as Laswell reflects the same- eyebrows furrowed. 

“Maybe me and the boys would not be having such jealousy issues if the guys were not here on base to begin with- they had no reason to be originally- and they definitely have no reason to be off with MY squad member,” John restates his points with a more leveled tone, his mouth twitches up into a smirk as he watches Laswell internally battle herself- knowing that the guys just outside would make worse demands than he. 

Laswell sighs out, throwing her coat on a nearby chain before motioning John back over to her desk where she turns her laptop around and shows the thread of emails shared between herself, Shepard and Graves. The shadow company CEO demanded for Dice to be stationed with their team, a token that their contract would be upholded. As the missions dragged on, Graves became more restless-  John shakes his head at this new information, refusing to read anymore.  

“This is why I didn’t show you John. I know you are not a fan of these side-deals but-”

“BUT what Kate, but what. With their background, it is absolutely disgusting that you would make them do this-”

“Well they did agree to it?” Laswell states but comes out more like a question. 

“Did they know? Well maybe with someone of their past, they couldn’t imagine saying no- working themselves to the bone. Fuck, we barley saw them and when we did,” John takes a moment closing his eyes as his voice comes out softer, “I looked past my jealously Kate, I saw that they were healing those memories with em’ but I will not look past them being used. I know where they're coming from, when the higher-ups keep shouting in your ear, demanding more of you until you become a husk. I couldn’t look at them Kate, I-I couldn’t look and see that version of myself reflected again. The rest of us we-” Price stops mid sentence as the door is thrusted open and shut, the assistant now fleeing the scene. 

“We were feeling a load of shit- Laswell. You try and watch someone you care for gradually slip away, burying themselves in work because they ‘apparently’ didn't do enough- and when you do try and see them again, they look past you and to someone else- looking happier than ever,” Johnny states while leaning against a wall, looking out the window and onto the training grounds all those months ago. “Sure it is jealousy, yes we did give the cold shoulder but there is no worse feeling than being replaced and everyone was feeling that in one way or another,” Soap finishes as Ghost only nods in reply. 

Gaz speaks up next, “If we are sharing then, I know Graves is trying to recruit them, Kate. We all knew it- saw it, and it became all the more disheartening when those shadows appeared in our own personal space and then next week- BAM! They are off without a word- I fucking wonder we were having sloppy work recently, there is only so much we can get done while functioning in the dark.” By the end Kyle is out of breath, taking a bottled water from the minifridge and sitting in one of the armchairs across from Lasswell's desk. 

Ghost shakes his head before commenting, “So they worked their ass off, fearing they would be replaced in some way or better yet when another devil comes whispering in your ear, complimenting your good work, showing you friends and pleasures of the craft yet we were stuck doing time-consuming work for no use? What fucking plan is that- no actually, a useless plan that is.”

‘Well then boys, it is a good thing I am sending you off to join them tomorrow if you are done? I apologise, that's the best I can give you now with what I have been working with. I can’t do much if I got fired from Shepard- John. And the best strings I could play was ensuring that they would at least be working with people they knew in the area- I’m sorry for what this has caused. I,"Kate takes a moment, a shaky breath exiting herself, “-I see what they were starting to mean to you all and I am sorry that I was the one who had to take that away from you. But it is up to Dice in the end if they end up signing that contract- we all can only hope they do not.” 

“Like fuck they won’t,” Johnny states, a smile gracing its way across his face as he pulls Gaz up and hugs the man, throwing in a hand for Ghost to join them who only rolls his eyes in reply. John shakes his head, the energy in the room having a noticeable difference as he checks his watch. The next day was not far off in the early morning hours they were in now, deployment was soon and soon was when they would make it their personal mission to have you stay with their team. The past meeting the present, and the present overtaking the past as it should- in theory. 

--

↳ One Week Until Mission “Spill”

When the boys touch down on the tarmac, they initially do not see you leaned up against the back of Alex’s truck as you and Farah share drinks out of a water bottle. “Gorgeous!” Johnny calls out once spotting you as he shoves himself in front of a very confused Alez who pats him on the shoulder. “Hey man, it's been a long time since we last saw each other- how have things been?”

“Been better but we have work to do,” Soap replies while wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he practically drags you to sit beside him in the back of the truck. Farah waves you goodbye as she goes to talk to Price who sends you a solid nod in recognition of your presence. You look at the side of Soaps mohawk with confusion, Why are you back to being so touchy all the sudden? 

As if knowing your very thoughts he gives you a wink before squeezing your shoulder and strapping you into your seat with a grin. Horangi slides in on your otherside as Alex turns the engine on, Köing rushes to shotgun, mumbling about more legroom as you kick his seat and blame it on Horangi who curses out loudly before lightly punching you on the thigh. You wince, gripping your pant leg as you invite Soap in on the backseat chaos. 

“Oh my god! Is that blood!” he yells out with exaggerated gasps as Horangi tries to choke back laughter and Alex politely asks for everyone to, “shut the fuck up.” While readjusting the rear view mirror, double checking that you were not in fact hurt. 

--

Once back at the house, the squads are gearing themselves up as you double check your notebooks on all the information you have collected thus fall, helping Farah and Price to outline the ever-growing team you all had established here. 

“And drinks are on me afterwards!” Matthew announces as the crowd cheers, a few members of Farah's group had appeared half-way through the debrief that you had never met before. You giggled to yourself as quite a few eyed up Horangi and Köing, pulling on their sleeves to get their attention, you pointed like gossip girls to the people who were looking for company. 

 Köing turns a bright red, “Maus-I don’t know…” “Oh come on! Doesn't have to add to anything- you don’t even have to fuck, get your head out of the gutter Horangi- I know that look better than anyone,” you tease out but your eyes hold utmost seriousness. You kept thinking about your talks with them earlier in the week and the aftermath of these next few missions, everything was hanging in the air with this departure's success and yet you couldn’t help but want for everyone here in this room to have something for when they arrived back- in whatever state they would be in. 

Seeing your eyes fog over with the depth of your thoughts, Simon brushes his shoulder against your own, nodding along to Farash speech as you snap out of your trance, glancing up to him with a thankful smile as you point to various entrance points you discovered while scooping out the place through public architectural blueprints. 

With one last slam to the table and a battle cry being placed, Price requests to speak with you outside as you follow suit, Gaz in tow. He keeps his back to you while walking, ensuring that you all are a good ways away from the house before he starts to speak. “Before we go out on this mission, Dice. There are a few things I need to come clean about, and a few answers I would like from you in return.”

You process his words, eyes darting anywhere but his own as your palms sweat, You were not reading to make your decision whether to stay with the military or go after Spill- Please don’t ask about this, please don’t. You nod once as Gaz crosses his arms beside Price, “As your Captain I am disappointed you did not come to me for support when you needed it and I don’t just mean work, love. In that disappointment of mine, I directed it towards you rather than at myself, I misplaced my actions while addressing your old squad as did the rest of the boys. I cannot speak for their shite but what I will say is that, I’m sorry Dice. I was an arse,” Price says while casting his eyes down to his boots, he grips his vest, swinging on his feet and you cannot help but cast a smile at his actions. 

“It’s alright, Price. I-I get it, I was in a downright terrible position and I should have gone to the team but when the guys came around-I… I just got lost in the memories, you know? Those good feelings came back but with the more nights we spent talking to one another… the more it wore off and the more guilty I felt knowing that I left you all without a word…” you sigh out in relief that the dreaded question did not get asked yet Gaz takes that sigh as the start of tears as he races up, encasing you in a warm hug. You smile into his skin as he chuckles at the feeling. John decides to make this a group hug as you groan at the weight of gear being toppled on you before an anxious Alex is screaming from the backdoor like a worried mother, “We are on the road in six people, get your shit together- we have deadlines to meet tonight.”

--

Hopping out of the trucks once more, you find Price standing on a stump as he counts heads and ultimately addresses the crowd. Soon lines are being formed throughout the treeline and comms are declared silent, you could see your first objective as part of the abandoned factory. 

Distant echoes of metal grinding in on itself as trees swayed and groaned in the wind provided an eerie atmosphere to the rising tensions in your shoulders. Standing against the wall, with your NODs on, you nodded towards Gaz as he clipped the lock and you entered the room, to what would be a series of offices. Casting yourself against the further wall to your side and making your way to the centre to meet up with Soap he signals for you to unlock the next door. The first and second room were found empty. 

Yet as you move deepering into the facility, through the various offices that have used coffee mugs and papers scattered across their tops, the sound of running feet can be heard echoing down the hall on the outside platform, connecting the offices to the greater factory and mining pit beneath. Turning your head to see Ghost already holding up his hand, you all pause and hear as the steps get closer. 

Raising your gun to your face as Gaz does the same. You hold steady as the door handle jiggles, Johnny takes cover behind a tipped over desk, resting his gun against its side as he tries to squint through the blinds from a distance, unable to identify the possible target. A few shouts in another language can be heard as they fumble for their keys and drop a flashlight, it rolls across the metal platform as they swear out into the night air and another voice soon joins their worries. 

Ghost stares at the door, gun raised in wait as he eyes you all to hold position. The door soon flies open, you all still hidden in the darkness of the room- observing their actions as they shut the door behind themselves and lean against it- panting out. 

Ghost steps towards the window light, motioning them to lay flat against the ground with his gun as he orders with a strict tone, “Hands and Knees on the fucking ground. On the fucking ground now.”

Gaz dashes over to secure them both, moving them against the back wall where Soap and you wait. Equipping the flashlight on your gun you focus in on their faces and kneel to view their badges as Ghost stands behind you, reading to move in if they pull any fast actions on you. They were cousins to the working family who ran this frontal tree-logging factory where in actuality this is where they produced their newest explosive weaponry. 

Both scientists refuse to meet your gaze before you grab one of their chins, ensuring their eyes meet your own. They portray confidence, yet their shaking knees tell otherwise, “I need you to tell me who else works here.”

The scientist to the man you currently hold shakes their head violently, thrashing their hands in the restraints as Soap places a boot against their body, stopping their movements with a stubble bit of pressure. “Do not try to look at your friend. I will not ask you again, you tell me- or you meet our other friends in the woods- your choice,” you speak in a clear, even tone.

The man simply spits in your face as you drop your hold on their chin and instead force their body upright, their feet slipping against the floors in an effort to hold themselves up. “What a shame, your cousin here will get to go first- let your lack of information help their screams,” you pressure them further as their eyes go wide- believing in your hold to words. 

“They-they are 42 of us here, 10 in staff today- I do not know elsewise to their location. Please believe me- do not hurt her” the man shakes underneath your grip, their shirt slightly tearing as you press them into the wall- it creaks from the weight. 

“That's a start, where are they, where are the 10?”

“I-I will show you,” the scientist counter-offers as the lady nods her head in agreement, “yes, we will show.”

“No showing necessary, you will tell me now- I will be taking your badges.”

“Yes, of course! Of course,  t-they are meeting with accountant in west wing,” the man stumbles to answer. 

“Who is this accountant? Where are they from, who do they speak to?”

“I-I do not know, you will have to ask. They only come to see we do the work and leave afterwards. They are not from here, foreign looks. That all I know, please.”

“Good, thank you,” you offer the man a tight-lipped smile before dropping him to the floor. He groans out as you search his jacket for the mentioned ID and destroy the SIN card in his phone as Johnny examines the woman's handbag and empties it across a desk. 

Finding the other ID and her notebook, he stashes them in his vest before enabling comms for another team to keep watch of the two scientists in custody- they would be needed in court afterwards. 

--

After a few moments and adjusting your gear, you hold up your gun abruptly to the sounds of rushing boots. The knocks sounded at the door follow the prediscoled pattern as you sigh out in relief and open the door for the squad to enter, Simon presents the information gathered as they radio back to base while staring down at the two scientists who refuse to make eye-contact once more. 

The squad leader gives Simon a nod, signaling your exit as you all make your way towards the west wing. Greeting other squads that you find along the way as Gaz stays behind to help dress one of their wounds. 

The metal stairs that you deascened for moan in the wind and shift with the building as you enter down into the west wing. A set of double doors greets your faces as you each take a side, readying to enter the space with a sudden burst. All the lights are on inside the large meeting hall as various guns are pointed up at your face, shouting for your compliance. 

Setting your weapon down in your hands as Johnny and Simon do the same, it was squad 3-5 that stood in the room, already holding a tight control over those yet to be interrogated in one of the private meeting rooms or holding the exits. 

Laughing out as horror exits your system, you hear the all-familiar sounds of John's investigations as you enter the room as Johnny and Simon wait outside. Price does not face you, his knuckles bloodied yet the accountant's face looks a whole lot worse, or well at least what you assume to be the accountant in their… disturbed appearance. 

Letting out a low whistle, the Captain chuckles in response before leaning over. He presses his hands snuggly into their shoulders, forcing them to almost break the back of the wooden chair as he whispers into their ear, eyes flicking upwards to meet your own as he speaks, “Nice of you to join us Dice, maybe you have something to help move this investigation along. Any bargaining chips potentially?” 

The accountant stays silent, only glaring into your eyes as you blink twice back at them, “I know that you murdered thousands with the numbers you love to play with back at that office of yours, just outside the city right? Women, children, awaiting fathers, it's all the same to you- isn’t it? Your wife-” you chuckle to yourself, shaking your head as you saunter around the room, “we had a splendid time after the Charity Gala together. Her moans never sounded so sweet while being stripped of that silky red dress,” you humm afterwards as if thoughtfully remembering the scene. 

John keeps his eyes locked onto yours as the account begins to shift in their restraints more. He moves a gloved hand, forcing them to look back up at you as you walk closer to stand in front of their sat form, smiling down. 

“She told me of how you couldn't make her fulfilled in bed. How good my hands felt in her hair, trailing down her neck of diamonds and right to her stomach…” you tisk the accountant, brushing your hand against John's shoulder before continuing, “then she told me how you had to sell your own manliness to women who only were bought for your attention, sick bastard you are truly. So much so that she found herself in the sheets of not only me, your enemy who made her feel more than you did in 20 years- but the oligarch you work for as well. How wonderful is that- no?”

“You tell lies-”

“Why would I waste my words on a man like you if not only to tell the truth? You are pathetic really…” you trail off while Price smiles, he knows that you both are almost there to crack this man's facade. 

“You are pathetic, your little mind games serve as dull knives.”

“Then what will be said of you whatever would your boss think when he finds out you have been tilting the numbers yet again, but are stealing your fortune to pay off that mistress of yours- hm?” you retort with a large plaster across your face as John whistles out, giving their cheek a good pat before coming to stand by your side. 

“Decision is yours, I have a member of death's door waiting, like seeing the reaper himself if you want a pre-show to your fate or you could choose to put your dick back into your pants like a good ol’boy and wag your tail for your boss- we would love a chat,” Captain Price teases out, his voice filled with grovel from all the yelling he had done today.

A low nod of the head is all you need for evidence of his acceptance before John is signaling through the window for someone to handle the accountant. And by the time you both exit the room, the accountant in cuffs walking out with another squad member before you and all of his people who laugh at his appearance. You notice as Ghost refuses to make eye-contact with you, instead shifting his feet when you ask if he’s doing alright. When turning around to face Soap, he gives you a strained grin, his gun lower than usually positioned by his core as he tilts his head, signaling towards Price, signally for assurance.

A cough can be heard as you all turn to face Gaz who stands with his arms outstretched as you walk over to give him a hug, your gun dangling across your chest as you both shimmy around one anothers gear with a laugh. With your face plastered into his side, he gives a wink towards Simon and Johnny- a look of understanding for their current state as messages are shared throughout the facility- it was time for exfil after a mission well served. 

--

A shake of your shoulder as your eyes snapping awake, you did not mean to have a nap. Blinking your eyes clear, you notice as a corporal shakes you awake then points to the Captain. Price’s eyes scan your own in a restless search- but for what? Tilting your head towards the Captain to signify your confusion towards his actions he patches himself into your radio system while holding your gaze. 

“Do you know if your shadow friends will be joining us for the next objective?”

“Unclear sir, I have yet to hear from their intelligence crews” the title you state becomes knives to John’s ears, cutting their way down to his lungs as he takes a breath in trying to calm himself, already worked up from the earlier mission as you blink none-the-wiser to your word choice’s impact. 

“John or Price, your choice Dice…” John replies with a more flat tone than usual that has your head topping to the side. “Sorry Price, still wearing off the adrenaline from the mission, brains a bit scrambled as of current,” you state with a sloppy smile as he casts a tired one of his own, closing his eyes with a humm, extending his boot to touch your own as you lock your ankles around it. 

Soon Ghosts voice comes through your headset as you look around to find where he was seated, five seats down, the masked figure stared down the aisle to look at you and his Captain while moving his mic down to his mouth, “Had to hold Johnny back from that Horangi guy a few days ago, same can be said about Gaz and Köing. Mop-masked was holding Kyle in a death stare in the meeting room.”

Johnny pipes up to conversation beside Simon as he notices what is being discussed from the reactions everyone is displaying from throughout the aisle, pulling down his radio system. Simon grips his thigh, as if warning him of doing something that has your eyes narrowing in mixed confusion, concern and irritation- what were they keeping from you?

“Al’right, that Horangi fucker. What is his deal, gorgeous? Really had to share some harsh words with him after what he said about you. Can’t fucking believe that you would say he’s your best with the alligations he presented,” Soap rants while rolling his shoulders, as if preparing himself for a fight. 

“Is that why you were being so touchy in the car ride? You only had to ask, quite like your hands,” you ask with a teasing tone, blood still pumping through your body as you watch as Johnny's cheeks flush, the adrenaline from the mission has him on edge as your little stab has him falling back in embarrassment before he rounds his own fireback. 

“Love hearing my name on your lips, may have to come over there so you never forget it,” he teases right back with a large wink as Simon whispers for you all to “tone it down,” as he looks at the various eyes looking between our squad- trying to understand the conversation happening between you all. 

“If I remember, there were some other names you wished me to call you as well but first, do tell me about these allegations,” you press forward. Gaz now joins, offering his side from an unknown place in the plane. “Simon patched me into what's happening. Köing rubbed me the wrong way with his looks, as if he knew something I didn’t.”

Johnny presses the topic further, adding, “Said that I would never know what you really needed from a ‘team’. I don’t regret my actions, Y/N, I will tell you that now. But when they say those kinds of things, and you leave for those weeks when they arrive- leads me to conclusions I don’t wish to face. We acted nice in front of you, Dice. But I need you to tell me before we land, are you a part of our squad or not?”

“Always,” you answer before your brain can keep up, “I talked in parts of this with Simon one day but… you guys are it for me I think. I cannot say for sure after this mission but… I got what I needed off my plate these past few weeks with the past and now I can promise that you have only my attention,” you state with a raised chest in pride. 

“I better have all of your attention,” Johnny comments back, “Alright you,” Simon voices over, taking off Soaps headset and placing it out of reach as you howl with laughter down the line, waking Price up from his temporary drift off, flashing you a smile as you wince out an apology. 

Shaking your head down in your laugh to calm down, you pick your microphone back down to continue speaking, “Look, I apologise to you all for my shitty behaviour, their equally shitty behaviour- really all around shitness that has happened. You all have become my truest friends since meeting Gabby in elementary and friends is a term I do not use sparingly- I must hold my thanks. I will do better to come to you all when I am struggling,” you promise watching as Soap manages to sneak back his headset while Simon sends you a warm stare that has you flashing him a smile, enjoying how beet red he gets underneath his gear. 

“Just, Friends- hm?” Soap questions with a small frown flashing across his features. 

You smile and nod back vigorously, not knowing how to place your thanks into words in a better way than actions. Failing to notice the tone in which the word was replied back in as he leans back against the divider and out of sight with a contemplative humm. 

Simon chuckles at your answer, the deep sound causing your heart to race and our lungs to flutter. How you wished to hear the sound again as you watched his chest rise and fall with the actions while underneath that tight black vest. As Gaz and Price remain silent to the conversation. 

A few moments go by as you all allow the words to sink in. “Do you have a thing for masks, Dice?” Johnny questions in a serious tone while leaning into Simon's side, doing as he does best- lightening the mood. 

You choke on your own spit at the accusation being presented as you stutter for an answer, brain firing on multiple fronts from the whiplash of a conversation. 

“I-I’m sorry, could you repeat the question? I think the lack of air is getting to my head.”

Johnny merely smiles before restating the question as calmly as before, as if asking for your favorite colour or season. “Do you have a thing for people in masks? Notice you know many people that wear em’”

“I uh…” your voice trails off as you contemplate your answer, eyes slowly drifting towards Ghost who stares down your form intently waiting to hear your answer. Yet as the seconds tick by, the lack of answer eventually forms one in itself as you hear Gaz chuckle down the radio before turning himself silent and the Captain coughs a few times, turning red underneath his own mustache as he refuses to meet your stare. 

“Do you?” you question back, partially curious and the other seeking a slight revenge from playing your in this blushed-filled and nervous state. 

“Oh, definitely” he replies quickly before you all burst into laughter and the landing sign is singled moments after, it was home time. 

--

Once back on base, a few days of paperwork are filled out as the days and hours clock down to your next departure. You do your best not to think about it as you ask Gabby for clothing recommendations in your room, she asks you to spin with a wave of her finger as you do so with a groan of frustration. You had been stuck in this endless cycle for nearly two hours now and you had told Gaz you would be meeting him in the lobby in three hours. 

You had gone through your whole closet before you outwords protest, unable to keep to just your facial reactions as Gabby hides behind a pair of shoes she found at the back of your closet between the dozen pairs of work-boots. “It’s not even a date, Gabs. We are just making up for lost time with some coffee, nothin’ more nothing less-”

“And I know where my dad went-okay?! If this is not a date, I do not know what else is sweetheart. Treat yourself~” she sings out before throwing another pair of pants for you to try on. She claps her hands together, fixing the buttons on your shirt as she frizzles your hair. “Have fun, you look like a million dollar baby!” Kicking your butt on the way out she quickly turns around to place the mess she created of your room as you lock the apartment door behind yourself and Gaz pulls you into a hug once meeting downstairs. 

He opens the door for you, helping you out of the car as well and orders you both two teas with an assortment of small snacks for lunch. Conversation flows between small hand touches and the linking of shoes from below the table. You rest a hand against his thigh, watching as he chokes down his glass of water as you cast the man a wink. 

The check slamming against the table has you both stumbling out as dinner time nears, “How about I treat us to dinner?” you say while looking up nearby restaurants on your phone. “Sounds good, love,” Kyle states while wrapping an arm around your waist with a cheeky smile as an elderly couple look towards you both with disgust. 

Gaz watches as your smile falls slightly and you back away. He still walks near you, arms brushing against one another in hopes that you would feel more comfortable again, casting him a thankful smile as you both walk down another block to the small Turkish restaurant. 

You both sit beside one another, sharing food off each others plats as you ignore the endless stream of messages that Gabby sends you, excusing yourself to the washroom- you open your text messages and cough out in shock, “I’m sorry for spamming, you two are probably fucking right now- next time I want in, have fun! Tell me how he is~” Blushing bright red, your fingers rush across the keyboard, scolding your best friend before splashing water across your face. 

Once returning back to the table, Kyle holds his arm up, allowing you to become wrapped underneath its calming pressure, “you doing okay?” he asked you in a hushed tone, lips right against your ear as your blush extends to your ears now. “Just peachy.”

--

When you leave the restaurant and pick the car back up, you invite Kyle back to your place, “It is closer to here and it would be best to not wake the rest of the lads up,” you comment. “If you want me more to yourself- you can just tell me sweetheart,” he teases while running circles into your knee as he makes a turn into your block. 

Leaning over to press a kiss against his cheek, your voice becomes more hushed as you unlock your apartment door and rush up to Spoons. Who looks as happy and healthy as ever, note to self, the elderly neighbour gets a gift. Kyle leans down, giving your pet a quick past before yawning and stretching out of their boots. 

He trails down the hallway behind you, hands on your waist as you open your bedroom door, throwing yourself on the bed with an overtired giggle. He follows suit as you roll over, giving him enough space, noticing this he pulls you underneath the covers and against him. “Thank you, Kyle Garrick,” you whisper out, hoping him to be asleep already. 

“What for?” he asks out in an equally delicate tone, feeling as your heart races against his chest. “For staying with me, for understanding…” you start to cry, unable to find the right words as he kisses the top of your head, brushing some hair from your forehead. “Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart. I am always here, alright? Never question that.” 

He feels as you nod once more and chuckles when Spoons snuggles themselves in the empty space at the foot of the bed, emitting a few purrs as you all drift off into the world beyond.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

↳ Taglist: @thriving-n-jiving @cringeycookies @ashy-kit @lilliumrorum @kaoyamamegami

[1moreff-creator]

DRDT is back!!! Here’s my live reaction to everything that happened this week! Obviously take everything I say with massive piles of salt, these are in the moment reactions and aren’t supposed to be fully coherent thoughts.

DRDT CH2 EP12 SPOILERS (Oh that feels good to write)

We’re back!!! Teruko we fucked up!!!

The theory that Charles was going to bring up the possibility of a wrong time of death was true! There weren’t really any other theories about what he was going to say from what I saw, but it’s still cool we got that right. You have no idea how giddy I am to finally hear him talk about it, after waiting so long for him to finish the sentence lol.

Also Teruko’s face lmao.

Oh, poor Teruko, she looks so sad. She’s gonna bring up the marks on the wrist, right?

Or, yeah, the swinging.

(Does this screw up any theories? No, her body was still likely strung up at 7:30 AM, which is what most people thought I’m pretty sure)

Ah, Whit. I missed how shady he always is even when he has, like, an airtight alibi for the time the fish were taken (which is still around 7:30 PM to nightime btw, don’t forget Nico’s account).

They’re not gonna bring up the time the fish were taken, are they? That furthers my belief that the person who took the fish and the murderer are different. Nothing concrete obviously, just kinda narratively works better that way.

“Or did you do it on purpose?” Veronika how I’ve missed you :D

David’s face lmao xD

“I’ll fix that mistake” (Paraphrased) Hell yeah! Go Teruko! :D

I missed you too, Literature Boy Insane. That “pathetic” voice line was cool. Also, thank you Hu.

J: “The body would have been cold if it was drenched at some point.” (Paraphrased). Interesting point about the water, I wonder if it’s important or not. We know she wasn’t drowned because the relax room wasn’t open at 7:30 AM, right? So I don’t know how she could have gotten drenched.

Ace no genuinely how do you not know how water works what.

“The range of human stupidity is larger than I thought.” Charles, you’re great.

[Levi and Nico complain about Arturo’s medicine skills] Okay, but like, Arturo has repeatedly told you he’s not that kind of doctor. Like you can blame the guy for a lot of shit but this one ain’t it chief.

(Also don’t think I don’t see how Levi throws suspicion on Arturo. Small point towards Levi!Culprit and Levi!Accomplice)

“You shut your whore mouth!” Okay maybe I don’t need to defend Arturo actually, he seems like he has it handled. You good my guy?

Oh shit we actually brought up that Arturo is ridiculously young for someone in the medical field. I did not have that in my (hypothetical) bingo card.

Twelve?! Dude my guy wanted out of that house yesterday damn.

Dude he’s kinda going off! I was not expecting Arturo fans of all people to eat this good this episode, but this is interesting!

Oh right the crazy lady- “Adorable”? Verturo shippers eating!

“Feel free to add to the number of dents in the computer lab” (Paraphrased) PFFFT Charles!

Wait wasn’t there actually a dent there? Wasn’t that a thing I saw on people’s theories? Holy shit is that actually going to get addressed?

[Whit explains] AHAHAHAHAHA HOLY-!

“I let it slide because it was funny” I missed MonoTV too actually.

And no fish! Nico’s account of the fish still being there last time they checked goes unmentioned, meaning it’s likely going to be used for a twist later!

New alibis? Could be possible.

Whit: “I don’t have an alibi. Neither does Charles” (Paraphrased) Which you know because…?

Oh so that’s not addressed. I repeat the statement of Whit being unnecessarily shady all the time.

????? DAVID AND J ALIBI???? This could be kinda huge actually.

David: “Oh. Shit.” This is the reaction of a man being cleared of murder. That’s so funny.

Didn’t David usually wake up late? Inconsistent sleep schedule ig.

J: “Oh yeah, and Veronika.” Girl you gotta say this shit earlier.

Yeah, look, J, you went and made Veronika sad! >:( /j

David: “Whoops” Holy shit every line this man says is gold actually what?

David? Lying? Noooo, how could you say that? I forgot how funny post magical girl transformation this man was.

David I am going to need you to give an actual answer. I spent hours looking at That Video and I still don’t know what your deal is please-

“And she’s Teruko” J’s also really funny actually. Hold a knife to someone’s throat once and they hate you forever, smh.

“Oh and don’t say something like “I wanna kill myself” that’s boring” (paraphrased). Holy shit I missed Veronika- that’s my second fave right there! (Min you will always be N1 don’t worry).

David-Veronika duo is great actually.

By the way David said “the truth is…” I am not expecting a serious answer.

You know, for a moment I actually did think he genuinely thought he was the blackened. But my first instinct was right.

“I would have actually tried looking at the crime scene” Bro what the fuck is he actually cooking.

“A good person” drop!!!! If you know, you know!

Also, I wanted to point this out here, I might have accidentally misinformed a part of the fandom a bit? One point that I brought up was that several important people to this chapter have been called “a good person”, and one of the examples I gave was Hu calling David a good person. Which… I don’t think happened? I evidently misremembered a line where Hu called David a “good friend”, which is a different phrase with different connotations in DRDT, and I genuinely apologize for that. Especially because I have seen people repeating that David had been called a good person in the past.

But now David has called himself “a good person”, if in a roundabout way, so the point actually stands lol.

Oh shit the Xander name drop.

… He was trying to kill Teruko wasn’t he. Because Xander tried it, and because David has Teruko’s “the killing game is all your fault” motive. Oh shit.

Speaking of the “good person” point, that argument might actually be dead lmao. Given that Xander got called that and he’s, well. Not particularly important to chapter 2, let’s say.

[Hindsight Post-Video: Actually, the argument could now be “anyone referred to as a good person is deeply important up to chapter 2”. Or, alternatively, argue that Xander is somewhat important to the Chapter 2 trial because he inadvertently caused David to magical girl transform. The “good person” list in case you don’t recall is Teruko, Levi, Eden, Arei, and as of this episode, David and Xander. We’ll see what we make of it once the chapter ends ig]

Oh Teruko is pissed I am loving this.

Holy shit the voice acting is amazing holy shit Teruko is going off she said Xander didn’t treat David like a human (“No Longer Human” reference??? I might just be insane though) oh this is incredible!!!

Oh he knows something deep. This motherfucker knows what was written in Xander’s “kill Teruko” note I bet.

WAIT HE KNEW XANDER BEFORE HOPE’S PEAK?! HE KNOWS WHY HE’S THE ULTIMATE REBEL?!

Motherfucker you are going to tell us what Xander did before Hope’s Peak and why you know his work or I swear to God-!

Okay actually, David, I am going to need you to give… a straight answer at some point? Like I get you’re canonically bisexual (and it’s showing) but a single straight answer isn’t going to kill you.

Also, the music?! Is peak?!

David: “If the answer is no…” Neat sprite! Just thought it looked nice, and the line’s cool too :>

The return of the Teruko Baffled Sprite, long awaited.

Secret reveal? The killing game’s her fault?

Okay not the angle I was expecting in the slightest. Obviously gonna have to analyze how truthful he’s being at the moment, but he’s basically pulling a DRV3 ending logic thing. Cool!

So… Xander is absolutely Opening Guy, right? Like, I know that was the most common theory, but c’mon.

YEAH HU GO OFF!!!!

Voice acting going crazy too!

I adored Hu’s screaming section. How long till it’s revealed she has the “hopeless child” secret?

Hu’s a queen, hell yeah.

Pffft J’s high horse voice line-

Thank you Charles for being the only competent one (affectionate). Btw what does Veronika think of David’s reasoning? I was kinda hoping we’d see that.

[Red herring joke] Whit. Whit /disappointed/silly

Oh shit I was not expecting that line to actually cause a reaction damn.

You know, I’ll be honest and admit Eden’s really not acting that much like a culprit. I still think she is, I’m just surprised I’m not able to confirmation bias my way into suspecting her through her voice lines :v

Aaaand we’re back to Ace v Nico! Woo!

Okay wow the new alibis are like, laser focused on going against the most popular theories, huh? I’m not going to say anything’s deconfirmed yet obviously, but Hu!Culprit, J!Culprit, even Veronika!Culprit and theories surrounding David being involved have some questions to answer damn.

[To the question of if anyone else had alibis] “Nope” Whit how do you know this.

Levi!Accomplice also takes a hit because Eden and Levi aren’t trying to alibi for each other, but it can be explained. If they never prepared to give each other alibis, it’s safer to just… not, since they can’t actually say what they were doing during that time. And yes, possible explanations like this is why I’m not calling anything outright deconfirmed yet.

I wrote that before Levi three dotted directly after Eden, looking like he was thinking of trying to give her an alibi. Now that’s confirmation bias that can’t be safely used for theories!

Oh right J still hates Arturo xD

[The whole thing about excluding suspects who had an alibi at night and not in the morning] Oh God, Levi really wants me to think he’s the culprit huh? The method’s still too crazy for me to really believe that, but still.

This is also bad for Levi!Accomplice. Not a dealbreaker, but still weird that he’d say something that could point in Eden’s direction. I am not even going to try to defend that yet.

Cool. Can we finally talk murder method?

Levi: “That’s my secret.”

Oh okay, we’re not talking method yet.

…

Wait, WHAT?!?!?!!?!!!?!

THAT’S-! That’s not-! What the hell?!

Okay, so. Cool, Levi’s the remorseless murderer, we got that one right. But, the reveal is so insanely out of left field holy shit…

I am not lying when I tell you I had to get up and start PACING like I was not ready for this. I am vibrating. He just- He just said that shit! What the hell?!

I have genuinely no idea how the hell this is gonna play out. Holy shit I cannot wait for the next episode. It’s just… so peak!!! We are so back!!!

—-

General Closing Thoughts: This episode was awesome! I was lowkey a little worried that the first episode back wasn’t going to be as insane as it ended up being, but wow it blew me away. And it was only twenty minutes? When the episodes go up to possibly an hour??? It’s just… holy shit.

It was awesome to finally start getting some insight into why David Did That, and I’m genuinely super excited to see where this goes. I’m still trying to figure out the exact angle on things like hiding Teruko’s secret, if he even is doing that because I now believe there is a non-zero chance he isn’t actually lying. Like, it’s low, but not zero. I do find it strange Veronika didn’t react to it, though, but at least we got that one line before David started talking.

But that’s only the cusp of the iceberg. I genuinely adore the details we got on Arturo’s backstory, and Hu’s blowup, and Teruko’s remorse- it’s all so awesome.

(The fucking dent in the wall of the goddamn computer room got an explanation I still cannot believe that. Wow)

Props to the voice acting and the music btw, absolutely incredible all throughout.

Btw, correct me if I’m wrong, but there weren’t any “minigames” this episode, right? Nothing wrong with that, just found it interesting.

Theory-Related Initial Thoughts: This episode is… possibly one of the biggest theory slaughters I’ve ever seen?

Like, obviously, again, it’s still too early in the trial to fully rule out anything, so I’m going to leave it to the other DRDT scholars to revise their own theories to fit the new evidence, but wow those new alibis are something. Between Hu, J and David having alibis for 7:30 AM, that’s three of the top suspects who weren’t there at that exact time to either kill Arei or mess with the body. Again, maybe there’s explanations for it, I’m not calling anything unconfirmed yet, just that many theories were inconvenienced.

As for my theory, Eden!Culprit Levi!Accomplice… ups and downs. The more Eden speaks, the less I’m convinced she’s the actual culprit, even if I’m a decent 80% sure she took the tape; the more Levi speaks, the less I’m convinced he’s an accomplice. I’m not going to deny that their dialogue isn’t 100% what I would expect. I don’t think it’s disqualifying, I still believe it to be the theory with the best evidence, it’s just that some things strike me as odd.

That was what I thought… until the end. Because I have no idea what’s about to happen with Levi revealing the secret like this, but… there is a very possible Levi!Accomplice turn here? Like, it’s the “Levi’s holding the glove” idea; the moment Eden loses her alibi, Levi does something that immediately puts a target on his back, potentially trying to get himself voted off before people catch on to Eden as a possible culprit. First he tries to argue that he shouldn’t be a suspect because of the alibi thing, which could make him more suspicious in some people’s eyes (maybe that’s too much 4D chess but it could work), then revealing the secret. I don’t know how likely this is, but it’s a genuine possibility.

Otherwise, I’m… not entirely sure what the angle is? I need to rewatch the trial to figure out why Levi’s talking about “detailing the trial” then immediately revealing his secret. I didn’t rewatch any DRDT before the episode, hence the confusion. But… at this moment, I don’t know what Levi’s cooking, other than possibly accomplice behavior. And even that feels more confirmation bias-y than anything.

There’s also the really weird line where Whit just… knows, Charles had no alibi at 7:30 AM? Unless they discussed it or I’m forgetting something, I don’t actually remember how he’d know that? Was he stalking Charles? Was he just wandering the halls? What kinda-?

(I don’t think that’s likely, but I don’t have a really good read on what’s happening there)

Other than that, here’s a crackpot one to lighten the mood. Mastermind business. I’ve never brought this up before, but I’ve always believed that were Veronika to be the mastermind, she would get revealed early. As in, possibly at the end of this trial, given Teruko had some idea to end the killing game after her chat with Veronika in the movie room.

I’m bringing this up only because Veronika didn’t react to David’s explanation of what he was trying to do by claiming to be the blackened. She was set up for a reaction with the whole “please tell me it’s not boring” thing, and then she… didn’t. It’s possible, in a conspiratorial sense, that she didn’t react because David hit the nail in the head, and Veronika was genuinely upset at the idea. If that’s the case, her reaction could be postponed to the end of the trial, maybe the end of Trial 3, for the early mm reveal there. It’s a very half-baked idea I’m failing to communicate properly ‘cuz I’m eepy, but it’s there.

I rank it in the same level of mastermind evidence as “Nico is unafraid of grabbing MonoTV by the tail.” Immensely silly and should not be considered solid evidence by any means, and yet it’s still probably gonna get mentioned if I ever make a mm probability ranking lol.

Anyways, absolutely incredible episode all throughout. Holy shit were so back, this was amazing. See you next week for more peeks into peak!

[strxwberry-milku]

Hello :3 it’s been a while since I requested a fic. How about evil!spoiled!fem!reader x Roman R. - she causes hell around backstage but in front of Roman she’s a saint lol

“ 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 ,𝐖𝐞’𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 ”

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🎀 : You going around causing chaos wherever you go , but hey whose gonna stop you ? exactly no one cause they know not to mess with THE tribal chiefs woman.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 🎀: Nothing accept a lil kissing

Backstage was a living hell the workers had to face this demon like women every day , but if they hated it so much then they could leave . You wouldn’t care and certainly Roman wouldn’t care ether cause he knew he would be able to replace them real quick .

“ But i want it , and i want it now ! ” the short woman screamed at the older panicked looking women “ i know darling but-” the younger girl raised her finger meaning silence and god forbid someone speaks over her . “ I SAID, i want it now . You don’t want me to tell your boss aka my husband that you’re denying his precious princess now do you ? ” you said playing an evil smirk on your face watching the worker start to get even more frightened than before . There’s something so sweet and delightful at the fact that you can get anyone wrapped around your finger just by mentioning your man’s name . Sighing in defeat the older woman named Janice got on her walkie talkie to make an announcement. “ This is Janice speaking, could one of you guys please order wing stop for y/n ” she said while looking elsewhere because she couldn’t look you dead in eyes knowing damn well you were boring holes straight through her head .

“ Ummm… what-t was your-r order aga-a-ain Mrs Reigns-s ? ” the poor lady trembled while speaking because she knew world war three was about the start . Looking offended you grabbed the walkie talkie from her hands and pointed it to your mouth “ listen here , you people have been working her for about a year now so how the fu-” just as you were about to finish your sentence you hear Romans voice come from behind you . Janice was probably thanking god above that she got saved from your tantrums by her boss . “ Is everything going on alright baby ?” he questioned and looked between both you and Janice who still seemed a bit shooken up.

Turning around you got on your tippy toes and kissed him which he happily obliged and wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you closer . Both of you still couldn’t give a fuck if anyone saw you guys making out because as stated before , if they don’t like it they can simply work somewhere else . Departing your lips from his you turned back around facing a shocked Janice , you almost busted out laughing from her expression , but nobody told her ass to stare .

“ Yes baby everything is ok , she was just ordering me my wing stop ” you replied while smiling up at him . Leaning down he kissed your forehead and said “ that’s good my love , however make sure you still have enough room to eat another meal because i’m taking you out for dinner at the new restaurant that just recently opened up down our street ” he then blowed you a kiss and took of round the corner back to his office .

Squealing in delight you shook Janice by her shoulders “ Did you hear that Janice ? my man is bout to take me out to eattttt , can you believe that ? who am i kidding, your man can’t even afford one of those microwave meals to give you ” without giving her a chance to respond you took off running to god knows where.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : Ik this is a bit short but i did what i could do 🤷🏾‍♀️ i hope you liked it bae 💋

[strxnged]

TIGHNARI: # deliver me.

word count. 3k. genre. adventure, pining.

overview. news of your patrol squad's brutal defeat by eremites reaches tighnari's ears. he wastes no time searching for you to save you—but in the end, who will be saving who?

warnings. blood, action sequences, tighnari & y/n both being badass AND down bad for each other. read at your own discretion.

Tighnari shifted his weight to his other leg, trying to focus himself on his work at hand. A dark cloud had been looming over his mind all day. It had obscured his path to understanding the recent outbreak of withering zones all across the forest; he seemed to have hit a roadblock in what to anticipate in coming weeks. Some information from forest logs pointed to the archon’s situation, and other clues pointed to misconduct of both Akedemiya researchers and bands of Eremites. Still others seemed to lead him somewhere deeper, somewhere within the very Ley Lines of Teyvat. But there was more that was bothering him today which he could not lay his finger on.

“General Watchleader, sir!” 

He looked up to see a Forest Watcher at his doorway. 

“Come quick,” she said. “Something’s happened to this morning’s patrol squad.”

Tighnari wasted no time following her to the infirmary hut, where but one Forest Watcher was lying wounded on one of the beds. It was indeed one of the Rangers that had been sent out this morning, along with you and two others, who he did not see now.

“Kamran, what happened?”

The poor man clutched his bleeding side, which was dressed mildly with a makeshift bandage from his scarf. Tighnari gently removed this to treat the Ranger’s wound, listening to his tale.

��Eremites, General Watchleader. We were ambushed, and they—they had no mercy. The two others died, sir, and our patrol chief told me to get out of there. I made it out by the hair on my neck. Or rather, my side—yahhh!” Kamran yelped as Tighnari applied an ointment along the edge of the wound.

“Sit still, Kamran.” Tighanari tried to steady his hands. He’d elected you chief of this patrol—and so, it was his fault if you were dead. He might not ever forgive himself for this. He should have sent stronger defense along. He should have seen this coming. 

Damn, he might have lost you, now, and might never get the chance to tell you what you meant to him.

He tightened a liquid bandage over Kamran’s wound. “Tell me, Ranger: where did this occur?”

<*+`,.>

Tighnari’s boots were laden with mud by the time he and two others had reached the reported location. Rain was falling hard, emphasizing his growing dread and causing his ears to fold back. Finding nothing initially, one of the other Forest Rangers suggested they split up.

“Hold that thought, Ranger,” he said, kneeling at the sign of discolored mud. On closer inspection, he realized: “Blood.”

None of them could locate directional footprints near this point, but there was a clear indication of a fight, one that ended quickly. The three swept the riverbank for more clues with no luck. But upon a tree Tighnari noted a fresh gash around half of its trunk. It looked like one your knives might have made it, though it was higher than you would have naturally reached.

Perhaps you had been carried. Perhaps they kept you alive.

“We go West,” Tighnari declared. “Iraj, take the Southernmost route! Shirin, you take the Northernmost one!”

“Sir,” they nodded, gathering in front of him.

“Don’t stand there. Lives still may be saved today!”

And off they ran, all three praying he would be right.

Tighnari was relieved when he found another fresh cut in a tree several paces West, indicative of your survival past the ambush. He later found the ground to be firmer, and the marks of several footprints created a reliable trail. Now he had a feeling he was drawing closer—but at the same time, a feeling he might still be too late.

The discovery of one of your blades in the dirt a bit further along concurred.

It had occurred to him quite soon after Kamran’s arrival that this may be a trap for Tighnari. The Forest Rangers of Gandharva Ville had had a rocky relationship with Eremites, and being known as the leader placed a target on his back. However, he feared more the blood of the Rangers on his hands than any of the enemies of the forest he may face. He had no doubt now that it was a trap, but knowing it served him very little. He’d sent the others further away so that they might not have to get involved; he only hoped they hadn’t come near enough to locate the camp. 

Only then did he hear distant chatter. It sounded like Eremites, no doubt, and additionally, the whining tone of Treasure Hoarders. As he approached the camp, he quieted his paces and kept to the shadows, eyes peeled to the men and women around the wet firepit with their weapons at the ready. 

Tighnari crept around the outskirts of the camp, far enough away that any rustle in the trees would be indistinguishable from the storm. He spied you, soon enough, sitting in a crude wooden cage similar to ones he’d seen at other Treasure Hoarder camps before. Guilt sank his heart to his stomach. He would get you out of this mess, no matter what.

Tighnari aimed his bow at the back of the Eremite guarding your cage, considering. If he alerted the camp of his presence, he would have to face all of them at once. If he lured some away, however…

He pointed and shot his arrow to the trees near the path, and watched a few shout and scramble over in that direction. He snickered to himself. Knuckleheads.

Back at the camp, he could just make out you standing in your cage, peering over in that same direction. He refocused, noticing how muddy your face and back were.

There would be no easy way to save you, he knew. But hesitating would make things harder, and so he crept closer to the camp. The mud was slippery and thick here, gathering a slight stream downhill. If he had sprinted for you, he would have wiped out and given himself away. 

Ah. That would work.

Tighnari at last sent an arrow at the Eremite leaning on your cage, and she staggered to her feet, whirling around. “He’s there!” she shouted shrilly, and soon, a larger portion of the camp was racing towards him. He simply jogged a few steps away, turned, and readied his weapon.

Sure enough, each Treasure Hoarder and Eremite that ran close enough slid on their heel and landed on their ass. Defeating them with a few well aimed shots was no problem. A cryo-thrower tossed a solution from further away, and Tighnari just managed to dive out of the way. Gathering his elemental energy, he sent three shots at the foe and made a dash for the camp.

“Welcome, Tree-Hugger. Eat this.” A kick from an undetected Eremite struck him clean across the face and he stumbled backwards.

“My,” he said, simply. “No need to play dirty.”

“You don’t know when to drop the act, do you?” the Eremite said. She slashed her dual hydro-blades at her, and just barely missed his chest as he dodged. “You’re dead.”

He dodged another attack. He wouldn’t be able to defeat her from this close a range. He’d been hoping to emancipate you before dealing with the rest, but it seemed he had no choice.

Or, at least, that’s what he was thinking, until the Clearwater grunted and froze in place, before crumbling to her knees.

He noticed the handle of a blade stuck deep into her shoulder. Not just any blade. Your blade.

“C’mon, ‘Nari, get me out of here before I scream. They’re awfully loud bastards.”

He chuckled, noticing you watching him from the cage. Truly an ineffective sport and ineffective piece of technology, trapping someone without taking away their weapons in such a wide-barred, single-person cage. He wondered if you might have shimmied out between the wood had you not been surrounded by Treasure Hoarders.

“Alright, alright. Be patient, Patrol Chief.”

You groaned as he went to make work of the lock. “You can’t be serious. You don’t even have the key.”

“I can pick locks,” he said matter of factly, “you know.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, well, I can do this—” He halted as you wrapped your hands around two parallel wooden beams and pulled them apart, successfully snapping them and opening yourself your own doorway out. You tossed the splintered beams to the ground and dusted off your hands. 

“You could have done that before I got here and saved me the trouble,” Tighnari quipped, watching you step out. “Now, then, I do apologize you landed in this mess all because—”

“It’s not your fault, Tighnari. I can be responsible for my own ass sometimes.”

Tighnari curled his lips unashamedly.

“Don’t respond to that,” you said, trudging over to the female Eremite to draw your knife out of her shoulder. You wiped the blood off with the inner elbow of your sleeve, peering into the sky. “So, how’d you find out what happened?”

Tighnari followed you, checking you over for injuries. “Kamran stumbled into camp and I was alerted,” he said, and then deemed you to be in one shape and acquiesced to your resistance.

“That coward.” You huffed and shook your head. “I don’t know what he told you, but he ran off almost immediately. And he was supposed to be our combat support. Our analyst didn’t make it.”

“Not your fault.”

“It ain’t yours either, ‘Nari. Eremites can just be ruthless. I knew they wanted you, but I was hoping Kamran wouldn’t be able to find the way back so that I could handle it myself.”

“Patrol Chief, you were still in your cage when I made it here,” he said. “I don’t think it was going as well as you claim it was.”

The Clearwater Eremite groaned, writhing on the ground. Tighnari gave her a good kick in the side. You raised your eyebrows at him. “I was just waiting for the sun to come out. It seemed awfully inconvenient to deal with the situation in the pouring rain.” You pointed into the sky. “A bit of sun’s coming out now. I would have gotten out by now with or without your help.”

“No ‘thank you’?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Not when you put yourself in danger like that.”

Tighnari shook his ears with a resigned sigh. “Well, at least it’s all over now.”

“Not yet it ain’t,” a voice boomed. The two of you whirled around to see a burly Eremite clomping into the camp. Tighnari did not recognize him from the ones he dealt with earlier. He was larger, more handsomely clothed, and angrier. “I’ve been waiting for this day.”

“Of course you have,” Tighnari muttered.

“You should be more afraid, tree hugger,” demanded the Eremite.

“No need,” he replied, readying his bow unwaveringly.

The Eremite laughed heartily and drew a long, narrow blade, eyeing both of you with evident bloodlust. You clasped the hilt of your dagger in your belt, but Tighnari raised an arm in front of you.

“Fight me all you want, but leave them out of this.” At this you started to protest but a severe look from Tighnari silenced you at once.

“Someone’s protective of his pet,” the Eremite responded. He stepped closer, dragging the tip of his blade in the mud. “Seems we were right.”

Tighnari’s face was dark. You were grateful not to be on the receiving end of that look. “You Eremites wish you had any kind of sense. Luring me here was a mistake.” 

He fired an arrow at the man’s chest, knocking him back and angering him further. You stepped out of the way as Tighnari had instructed you, watching him dive towards the edge of the camp to avoid a swipe of the Eremite’s blade. You wanted to help, but you didn’t want to complicate things.

Tighnari shouted, tossing a Dendro bomb at the Eremite’s feet. He stumbled back—only to charge at Tighnari with greater force. You could just barely hear him swearing under the thundering rain, dodging the blade again. It went on for several minutes; you watched with great interest, only bothered by the fact that you weren’t part of it. It seemed that the General Watchleader was attempting to exhaust the roaring Eremite, but it was taking a while. Both Tighnari and the Eremite’s movements were becoming sloppier. The Eremite showed no sign of letting up, however; he looked like he’d been waiting for this his whole life.

In a moment that seemed to last several seconds, you saw Tighnari’s foot slip a little in the grass, causing him to stumble a little. You did not hesitate to reach your arm back and fling your dagger at the Eremite. 

It sunk into his back a moment too late—the Eremite had landed a deadly strike on Tighnari.

Tighnari fell to his knees as the Eremite crumpled into the grass, groaning.

“Damn it, Tighnari!” you ran over to your leader, kneeling next to him.

“My love…” He fought to keep his eyes open. “I apologize. I thought I could—” He cut himself off, holding one hand to his mouth to cough hard. His other hand was clutching his chest. Blood came from both locations.

“‘Nari,” you whispered.

Neither of you had the time to process the use of such a term between you. You could feel his shoulders in your hands, tremble and falter. Your heart stopped as he fell forward into your arms. Your thoughts blurred as you ripped the Eremite’s scarf from his neck and tied it around his chest, trying to hold enough pressure to his collarbone to stop the bleeding. Once you were satisfied with the tautness, you took a full, deep breath, dragged him to a standing position by his armpits, and pulled him onto your back.

“Shit. You’re heavy, asshole,” you breathed. It was going to be a long walk back to Gandharva Ville. And you were not going to think about him calling you his “love.”

<*+`,.>

Tighnari came to in a very comfortable bed with a very uncomfortable pain in his chest. He could barely breathe. It was like he’d been stabbed in the lungs.

Oh. He had been. The events of the Eremite camp sharpened in his memory. He’d been trying to lead the Eremite far enough from you that you could escape. But he didn’t remember anything after being stabbed. Where were you?

His vision was peppered with dots but he forced them to focus. He was in the infirmary, no doubt. But whoever had treated his injury had done an egregious job, and he did not attempt any movement. His mouth tasted like iron. Like blood.

Tighnari heard a fuss across the room and footsteps ran into his direction. You leaned over him with evident worry. And red eyes.

“You’re awake,” you said with a tense sigh.

“No shit.”

You stared at him. Your face, previously clouded in misgiving, reconfigured to a relieved smile. “You’re quite awake,” you said.

“Haven’t you got,” he said, taking short breaths between words, “anything else to say?”

“Yeah. You’re awake thanks to me.”

He opened his mouth to voice a retort, but his throat clenched and he turned his head to cough. “I should have given you… lessons… on how to treat a chest wound.”

“I figured it out myself.”

He tilted his face back to look you in the eyes. “Barely.”

“I’m sorry, ‘Nari,” you said. “But at the same time, you could have been dead. You could have been dead because you didn’t let me help.” Tighnari noticed a tear escape your eye, which you wiped away immediately with the heel of your palm. “Asshole,” you added as an affable afterthought.

Tighnari studied your face, feeling emotions threaten his own expression. He wiggled his fingers, testing the pain. Satisfied that it was bearable, he reached up to your collar and pulled you towards him. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your ear, “for saving me. You did well.” 

You seemed to hesitate. Then, ever-so-gently, you rested your head next to his and placed a careful hand on his shoulder. You were warm, and he didn’t know you were capable of such tender affection.

As you stood up straight again, you flicked his forehead with all your might.

He gasped, and then howled as his hand involuntary jerking up to his head caused his chest to strain and ache. “Ow! That was unnecessary!”

“You’re welcome, Tighnari,” you announced with your back to him. He did not fail to notice the redness of your ears.

He clicked his tongue. “You used the wrong ointment on my wound, Patrol Chief.” He took a deep breath, wincing again. “Is this Padisarah itching cream?”

You scoffed. “You can treat your wounds yourself from now on.” With that, you marched through the door of the hut, leaving Tighnari quite immobile on the bed.

He allowed himself a small smile. Alas, neither of you were dead. And something told him he would get the chance to tell you what you meant to him.

author's note. thanks for reading. if you enjoyed, a reblog would mean the world!