#her scar is on the wrong side and too horizontal

[birb--birb]

Can't believe I forgot to post photos of my inky when she showed up in veilguard!!!!! I kinda rushed so I'm not 100% happy with her design, but gosh hearing her voice again made me tear up🥹💕

LMAO forgot to add the photos ohmygod anyways here Ellaika, she believes she can save the egg but has been dwelling on the fear that she might not be able to

[a-sleepy-ginger]

5/6/24

❊✺❂✺❊

Double ender toast

Ice cream

Talked with mother

Got loads of cuddles from the animals

Passed my history exam

Passed my psychology report

[d-romanov]

Do you do like self harm reader? Maybe wandanat are together and have adopted or just taken in a 16 year old 🤷‍♀️ idk am in one of those moods but I get if it makes you uncomfortable or triggers you or something!

Love your writing btw!

even when we're goin' under.

[ 1.2k words ]

[ natasha x teen!reader ]

summary: it's a bad habit, but it helped at first and now you can't stop. natasha offers comfort and understanding.

notes: hi! ty so much for the prompt 🫶 sorry i took so long to write it. this fic leans more towards vent fic and i definitely won't write things like this often. i switched it up a bit cause that's just how i wrote it. so, sorry no wandanat this time

TW!!: semi-graphic descriptions and discussion of self harm, past abuse (hydra/the red room it's vague)

this fic is heavy!! please don't read if you're triggered by self harm. stay safe and take care of yourselves ♥️

It started with an itch.

A small biting at the back of your neck, the sides of your arms, the inner sides of your thighs.

It wasn't a real itch, that you knew, but you were compelled to scratch anyways.

It always happened after a long day. The stress and overload of your senses would hit at the end of the day, and you felt like ripping your skin off.

The biting never went away. No matter how hard you scratched, your dull nails never did enough. A nervous habit of biting your nails left them too short to do any real damage to your skin, even when the itch felt bone deep.

There were other times it would start up again. After a particularly clear nightmare, a flashback to a kill you had no conscious part in. The guilt sunk your heart to your feet and filled your veins with poison. Burning and itching and begging to be released, begging for relief.

You found your relief, of all places, while cooking. A misguided blade chopping vegetables had nicked your hand, and in the bite of pain and rush of blood your skin stopped burning. You hadn't thought about it too hard in the moment, but when the itch returned later you finally had a way to get it out.

--

It went on for a few weeks. Far more than you intended.

It was a temporary solution, a quick fix. A messy fix that layered you skin with more scars than had already been there, but they felt better.

It was easier to reconcile to new marks on your flesh, because these came from you. Not a beating or a fight or experiment of any kind.

No. These new, thin, horizontal lines along your shoulders were purely your creation.

It was stupid. A terrible habit, bordering addiction because you just couldn't stop. Every time, that same burning itch came back, practically with a vengeance. A burning, blistering want to be released, for the guilt to be acknowledged, for some self punishment?

You no longer understood why it happened, just that it did and cutting yourself dulled the feeling and cleared your head.

--

You tried to hide it, for a while, but you were caught out eventually.

You didn't know what had changed, what part of you has suddenly raised alarm in Natasha's eye, but she was somehow even more perceptive than she usually was.

You'd always been close with the redhead, since the day you entered the tower. She got you through the hardest parts of adjusting, the loneliness of a widow adjusting to a semi-normal life. She cared for you like her own child.

So really, she'd be the first to notice your withdrawing. The baggier shirts with longer sleeves, the subtle hunch, the flinch when something grazed your shoulders. Of course she knew something was wrong.

--

It comes to a head one day. You've locked yourself in the bathroom after a nasty night terror left you panicking for the better part of an hour. Hastily cleaning and covering the new cuts on your arm. The sting of antiseptic grounds you and the smell of it drowns out the smell of iron.

You reach for your discarded hoodie when you hear a knock at your bedroom door. Your heart rate picks up.

The only person who would be at your door this early in the morning would be Natasha. The only person in the tower who's so in tune with your feelings well-being that she has to know what you've been doing almost daily for nearly 3 weeks.

"y/n? Honey, I need to talk to you."

A few more tries and your bedroom door opens. You quickly throw on your hoodie but you can't bring yourself to even unlock the bathroom door. Natasha is just outside. You hold your breath.

"y/n?"

"Yeah?" You ignore the croak in your voice.

"Can you open the door?" She asks softly.

You don't want to, but you're so tired of hurting. You shakily unlock the door and open it, not meeting her eyes. Unconsciously, you tug your hoodie sleeves over your hands.

Natasha doesn't say another word. She barely moves, she just breathes softly and keeps her body relaxed. You feel like crying.

You blink and traitorous tears escape your eyes. Natasha brings her hands up slowly and pulls you in. The rough feel of fabric pulls against the fresh cuts on your shoulder and you flinch as she pulls you in.

"Oh, детка."

Your breath hitches and you fall into her arms. She squeezes you tight to her chest while your body is wracked by silent sobs.

"I-, I'm sorry," You can barely get the words out, but you need her to know. You need her to know you wanted to stop and you couldn't because even when you felt better you still felt awful and it never helped. "I tried to stop. I-I wanted to-"

"I know, малыш, I know." She sits the two of you on the bed behind her, stroking your hair and never once letting go.

You just sit for a while. Natasha's solid form and gentle words of encouragement help to calm you down. Enough to pull back, wipe the snot and tears from your face and prepare yourself for her inevitable questions.

"Can I see?"

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. You hesitantly pull off your hoodie, and Natasha reaches out to help when the fabric catches uncomfortably on still-drying blood.

You feel exposed while Natasha moves to your bathroom. She comes back out with your first aid kit but you still refuse to meet her eyes.

You know what she sees. Angry lines of red, criss-crossing over old and new scars. In the back of your mind you hear a voice like Madame call you weak minded.

Broken.

With a tender hand, Natasha treats your self-inflicted wounds, cleans them softly and kisses each new bandage. She presses one final kiss, feather-light on your forehead. You let your tired body fall into her again.

"I know it feels good, in the moment," Her hands comb through your hair again, smoothing and braiding it mindlessly. "It doesn't really last though, does it?"

you shake your head, butting her chin lightly in the process.

"I can't ask you to stop, I know it doesn't work that way," You feel her take a deep breath and you copy the motion. "But will you tell me? The next time you feel the need?"

You shrug, because you truly don't know. "I'll try." It's as much a promise to her as it is to yourself.

It's really the best you can do, in the moment, and Natasha gladly accepts the answer.

Later, when you aren't so emotionally and physically drained, Natasha will sit you down again. She'll talk you into therapy, or at least to trying it out. She'll help you process your guilt, your grief, all with a steady hand holding your wrist. A promise not to let go.

But for now, Natasha pulls you under messy covers and holds you close, humming an old Russian lullaby as you settle against her.

As you drift off, you hear one more promise.

"I'm always here for you, y/n. I'm not going anywhere."

[lyndaris]

Scars:

(Current brainrot,, might add it into my ao3 later but I post here for now.)

While Alec stayed in the quiet room, she hummed a soft tune to herself. Ignoring the loud crowd downstairs, an occasional roar of laughter or a loud cheer.

She prefers this, just listening to a crowd than being a part of it. It’s more relaxing to her. Especially moments like this, not being stuck in silence. Just enough background noise so it’s comfortable.

It gives her something to absentmindedly listen to while she cleans up for the night. Brushing her hair and getting out of her armor for the night. Free of the heavy material weight but now with the burden of seeing her body. A win with a loss.

The dunmer frowned as she looked at herself in the mirror. Unfazed by the many battle scars that riddle her body, the Daedric runes… no, it’s the scars on her chest. Where her breast once were, yet somehow still haunt her. It’s felt like she can never make her chest flat enough, her appearance still too feminine for her liking.

While focused on the mirror in front of her, she only spared a glance over to the door when she heard the altmer on the other side struggling to unlock the door. The key shaking the door handle for a few seconds before it finally clicked. Swung open as Tanlorin made a dramatic entrance. Announcing they were back in a singsong voice. Their footsteps unsteady as they wobble over to their own bed.

Alec cracked a smile, always amused by their drunken behavior. It always provided some kind of entertainment, their stories, singing, or loud snoring from the alcohol putting them to sleep.

“Have fun?” She asked, her head turned to look at them. One hand held up her shirt against her chest to cover up. The other holding a slip of paper. “The tab was delivered… a whole bottle of wine, Tan? You must’ve really liked someone tonight.”

“So much fun.” They confirmed with a nod, a lopsided smile on their face. Still intoxicated from their many drinks. “You should’ve seen her, she was gorgeous.”

Alec chuckled softly, shaking her head. The piece of paper set aside. Both hands now holding her shirt to cover up. She moved to rest against the wall, head tilted back as she expected Tanlorin to continue. Though, they seemed to be distracted.

“Y’know… you don’t have to cover up~” They teased, a flirty tone to their voice. Their lips tugging into a smirk as they leaned forward a bit. It earns them an exaggerated eye roll from Alec.

“How did I know you would say something like that?” She sighed, her shirt kept in place yet. “Besides, I’ve never…”

Let anyone see her surgical scars, is what she was going to say. However, she felt a sudden sense of insecurity and embarrassment. Unable to finish her sentence…

“What? Been naked in front of someone before?” Tanlorin joked, with a slight giggle. Not quite picking up the tone in Alec’s voice.

“Okay, you’re not wrong-“ Alec huffed, her arms secure the piece of clothing against her chest more. “But, I was going to say I’ve never even let anyone see me out of my armor. In general. Let alone see my scars.”

“Hey, we’ve all got scars… they’re nothing to be ashamed of.” They coaxed, walking over to her. A gentle smile on their lips now. Sitting beside her now as they hands were placed on her forearms. “You’re one of the toughest people I know, I’m sure you have stories to tell about each scar.”

“…these ones are different, they aren’t from battle.” Alec confessed, her shirt lowered to reveal the two horizontal scars on her chest. Both very much still red and visibly healing.

This confession and reveal had sobered them up real quick. Their smile gone and replaced with a look of shock, and horror. Their purple eyes now glued on those specific scars. The silence felt so deafening, it made Alec’s heart race.

Just as she tried to cover herself again, Tanlorin snapped out of their shock. Their hands keeping her from hiding.

“Who did this to you? What did they do to you?” Their voice serious, their anger rising in their chest. Alec hadn’t even considered they might think this was an act of torture. Not until now.

“It’s not— I did this to myself.” Alec said, quickly. Her hands held theirs, a very weak attempt to calm them but she tries nonetheless. “I mean, technically… I did this to myself. I had some help.”

The once playful atmosphere gone now, Alec had wondered if this was even a good idea to show them. Maybe it was a mistake.

“You… you do know there’s mages that could help people change their bodies, right?” Tanlorin finally found their words. Their hands squeezed Alec’s, their voice shaking.

“Yeah, I learned that a little too late...” Alec frowned, her head tilted down to look away from them. Guilt ridden by spoiling the moment of their playful banter.

Tanlorin couldn’t even try to imagine how much this must’ve hurt her. The skin still red and raised as the scar tissues were still maturing. It made them angry but also sad to see this.

“Do they still hurt..?” They asked her, their voice barely above a whisper.

“No, they don’t hurt… not as much at least. They’re healing.” Alec answered. A quiet sigh leaving her lips after. “I’m fine, Tan-“

“Wait here.” They interrupted, spinning around to leave the room in a hurry. She didn’t say anything, just sat there in confusion.

Not even having time to wonder where they had run off to before they returned. A small tin in one of their hands, quickly opened and revealing a salve.

“You should’ve went to a healer…” they say, their hands warming the salve before they began to carefully apply it to Alec’s scars. Their touch light as they worry of hurting her.

“I didn’t want anyone to know.” The idea of anyone seeing what she had done to herself, the thought of explaining everything, including that she was so ashamed of her body, was just unimaginable.

“…I hate this.” Their worry and sadness felt through their words. It makes Alec’s heart hurt.

“I hated my body… having a chest. It didn’t feel like me. No matter how hard I tried to hide it beneath all my armor, it wasn’t enough.” So the decision was made, a choice she doesn’t regret.

“You don’t like being a woman..?” Tanlorin asked, careful with their tone.

“No, not completely… I don’t hate being a woman, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like who I am either. I want to be.. different.” An inner conflict she has yet to understand herself, what and who she wants to be. Jealous of those who feel comfortable in their own skin as is.

Dresses, make up, heels, all of that never appealed to her. Being wanted by men especially.. A signature perfume is about as “feminine” as she gets... The idea of feeling like her own person, not a man or a woman is her only goal. A bit of both, or neither at all.

“I have met a few Mer that wanted to change their appearance…” Tanlorin began, recalling their childhood and growing up in Summerset. Their friends that had gone through physical changes, they know how insecure others can be of their appearance. “Here, let me help. I have seen how other’s bind their chest.”

[bespectacled-bookwyrm]

Some Colress Headcanons!

I saw some posted by @colress-commodore-enterprises and was inspired to write some of my own!

Colress squeaks when he's startled or flustered.

He is the second of three siblings: Lusamine is the eldest, Colress is the middle child, and Darach is the youngest.

Cynthia is his cousin; they get on very well.

Colress has long hair! It's mostly straight, but it does curl a bit at the ends. It falls to around his mid-back, but most people don't know about it because Colress usually ties it into a very low ponytail and stuffs it down the back of his shirt, along with brushing his fringe back.

Contrary to popular belief, his blue loopy is completely natural! Colour AND loop! It's a genetic quirk from his maternal side of the family.

Although absolutely terrible at looking after himself, Colress is absolutely amazing with children.

For whatever reason, Colress seems to trigger an instinctive feeling of safety in children. It's to the point where lost kids will approach him for help rather than the very-visible police officer.

On a particularly memorable occasion, Colress took a nap under the shade of a tree and woke up to being used as a pillow by a bunch of sleepy five-year olds.

Colress has quite the sweet tooth! Although fond of most sweets, his favourites are sherbet lemons.

He has been called a human Delcatty on several occasions. Colress didn’t understand why until Rosa showed him the 'Dex entries for said Pokémon.

He has quite a few scars, some larger than others. They're mostly from his experiments or machine mishaps, but he has a horizontal scar across his throat, courtesy of the Shadow Triad.

He is distressingly good at hiding his problems and/or when he needs help. The most notable instance of this was during his tenure as a scientist for Team Plasma. No one had picked up on the pit of apathy and loathing (directed both inwards and towards Plasma, especially Ghetsis) he had fallen into until Rosa all but kicked down his door and dragged the truth out of him.

He prefers to do the "Forehead Bonk of Love" to show Grimsley affection over kissing. He will, provided he's in the mood for it, but he greatly prefers the Forehead Bonk. Naturally, the Delcatty comparisons increased immensely.

Out of the entirety of Team Plasma, he only got on with (and liked) four of them: Aldith, Barret, Schwarz, and Weiss.

He struck up a delicate bond with Ghetsis' Hydreigon. Said Pokémon is now in his care and is basically a house pet. A very intimidating, very traumatised house pet, but a house pet nonetheless.

To Grimsley’s surprise, despite being abysmal at poker, Colress has a terrifying amount of luck when it comes to games that rely purely on luck. As in, win the roulette five times in a row lucky.

Grimsley jokingly calls him a lucky charm and has managed to coax Colress into joining him as an observer for his poker games in the hopes of his luck rubbing off on him. So far, the evidence is inconclusive.

Colress can't bake to save his life. The only baked good he can make is apple pie, and even then it has a 50-50 chance of going catastrophically wrong.

On the other hand, he is a brilliant cook!

Rosa sees him as a father figure, and he in turn sees her a daughter.

Colress LOVES plants. He's an avid gardener, and an anonymous someone keeps on entering him into gardening competitions. Not that he's complaining TOO much; the winnings provide some nice extra income.

It took a long time for him to stop flinching at the sound of someone walking with a cane.

Although very honest about what he did in Team Plasma, he is incredibly reluctant to reveal his personal experiences working for them. Looker can only assume they weren’t good; that scar along his throat is particularly telling.

Colress is actually a very anxious person; he's just very good at hiding it.

He gets on remarkably well with Looker. They inevitably butt heads over some things, but Colress can easily call the man a friend.

Despite being built like a noodle, Colress is stronger than he looks!

Colress used to babysit Lillie and Gladion for Lusamine, back when they were tiny.

He and Darach get along quite well. It's just that they're both so quiet and introverted that people think they're ignoring each other.

He and Lusamine bicker the most; it's usually friendly ribbing or silly spats, but sometimes things can turn nasty. They still love each other regardless.

Colress hums or quietly sings when he's happy during his work. The Frigate never had the luxury of hearing this.

When he squeaks, Colress can sound remarkably similar to squeaky Pokémon toys. On several occasions, Grimsley and Rosa have had to extract the man from underneath the fluffy excitement of their Houndoom and Arcanine.

He and Schwarz once made an unholy concoction they called "The Insomnia Shot". There's so much caffeine in it that only people with the highest tolerance can drink it, and only out of shot glasses. After being kept awake for four days, crashing, and sleeping for a week, the two vowed to never let its recipe see the light of day again.

I may add more as they occur to me.

They were fun to write, too!

[hunting-songs]

put a name in my inbox and my muse will answer: Itachi

[NSFW] put a name in my inbox and my muse will answer: [ @kiigan ]

How interested they are in having sex with them: "Mhmmmm... as intrested as I would be with anyone who has such a dolce chuckle to listen to, " he sure had a melodic voice. A tune as gentle as fingers running along her ears were gentle. Eventually the woman only slowly shaked her head, winking up tothe asker in all good humor: "but by all means, talking about soup is not a especially apassionato topic to talk about."

How much they would pay (or have to be paid) to have sex with them:  A worried frown drew a line as deep as a scar between the womans big eyes. "The fact aside that I would not enjoy such a arrangement at all for acoustic reasons of beeing so close to a person who does not want me that way." The line between her eyes had turned as deep as an open wound and she tilted her head to the side, listening, listening, listening: "You really asking me if I would enjoy giving a person money to sleep with me when that person already" sounded as if his bones were metal clanking against another, sounded as if his vital were a clockwork, sounded as if he thought his body was a machine and not made of flesh and blood: "-audible feels like a tool himself?" Slowly Senritsu just shaked her head, stupefied with horror "How cruel and cold do you think I could ever be?"

If they would rather bottom or top them: "Mhmmmmm, from the 'limited sources' I have about horizontal tango-" the young woman had to bite the inside of her cheek to not start laughing out loud and eventually she just shaked her head over her own joke, even if she could not ban the irony completly from her melodic singsang of a voice: "- it is partnerwork. Or teamwork, in most of my cases. So what I would do does not matter when sex is about communication and beeing together. So how could I answer that question if all I had ever talked about with with that man is soup."

How good they think they would be: Blinking like a curious bird, Senritsu quietly tilted her head to the side. "...I am starting to think I am giving sex-ed-lessons while I really should not be anyones example in horizontal dancing. Really, just because I am often dancing, does not mean its always good" the woman just looked at the other honestly worried and a deep line appeared between her big eyes: "All I could say is that one could be the most sexually expierenced person in the world and still sometimes the sex is bad because one had a hard day, had eaten the wrong thing, is too tiered or because of any other possible reason. Sex is eventually just communication and my communications with Itachi are focused on soup." a amused smile pulled fondly at the corner of her dark lips and she laughed quietly, a sound as sweet as a song: "And the pure, mhmmm ...minacciando terror of fish."

If they’d prefer kitchen counter, wall, or shower sex with them: "One year ago I had a mhmmm...dolcissimo moment with a singer I had been traveling with from one town to the other." Senritsu grimaced as if she had bitten on a sour fruit, even if she was still chuckling although ruefully: "So while we rolled around under the raspberrybushes, laughing and joking and definitive getting the most horrific flu that would make me bedbound for the next four weeks, every little root and thorn bored in my back." The musician tilted her head from one side to another, thinking keenly: "Which is neither here nor there, but I swear I still feel those roots and thorns in my back even now and by the mere thought about it I hear my spine groan like old doorhinges. This are a lot of words for: Whatever we would chose if we ever would come in the situation to make such a choice, my back would definitive complain for over a year afterwards." Her quiet laughter ended in a wistful sigh: "Don´t get me wrong, I always enjoy beeing this close to other people and having those mhmmmmm... dolce moments with whoever would enjoy having fun with me. And I like remembering the people I had those moments with" there was a very, very tiered sigh on the womans dark lips: " But backache is backache."

If they’d fuck, have sex, or make love:  The musician tapped her short, gnarled fingers that used to look very different against her chin, humming gently: "Mhmmmmm, to be honest, I had never spend enough time with someone to ever earn the term 'love'. Let alone beeing worthy enough to 'make love'."

If they were going to make it a threesome, the third person they’d pick: "Probably that singer from a year ago.Would be quite the update from the rolling around under the raspberry-bushes.", Senritsu lasted barely a minute before she started to laugh melodically, shaking her head scoldingly over her own joke.

If they think there’s ever a possibility that it would happen: "From what I am hearing, Itachi is at the moment content to talk about soup.", automatically the woman lifted her small hands, letting her short fingers dance to the echo of a song she still could hear echoing in her ears: "Who am I to even think about anything else than talking about soup, when he gifts me with such a dolcissimo chuckle to listen to."

[keebyz]

Gentle Hands

The recruits’ mission was coming to a close and they were waiting for the dropship to pick them up at the Siphoned Forest. Witness, Arsonist, Shepherd, and Wanderer were picked for this week's scouts, and with their efficiency (and Arsonists' maniacal tendency yet proficiency to raze their enemies in his path), they were finished with their mission early. The group agreed to meet up at a designated point later that day to be collected and went of their own ways to kill some time. 

“Your hands are soft.”

“Hm?”

“Oh, I uh, said your hands are soft…”

Wanderer and Shepherd lay together by one of the towering snow-covered trees, sap oozing out from the taps that bore into them. The snow was soft and gentle, perfect for laying atop. They were in reverie, enjoying each other's company and the still environment around them. Wanderer had gently picked up Shepherd’s hand from where it was resting on her chest and ran his thumb over her palm, examining it. He enveloped her hand with his as if to guard it safely and carefully. Her hand was small in comparison, his gloved ones making his much bigger. 

She didn’t say much to his comment and only smiled softly under her helmet. He felt the pads of her fingertips, the soft bumps of her knuckles, and the smooth sides of her fingernails. He memorized the creases of where her fingers and palm fold when they are clenched in a fist. He measured the length of her fingers and compared it to his. He took his time, indulging in the feeling of her hands. Suddenly Shepherd released her hands from his.

“May I take your glove off?” Wanderer nodded slowly.

Shepherd carefully pulled off Wanderer’s right glove and underneath was the opposite of her own hand. Weathered down by years of survival in the harsh winters, Wanderer’s hand was calloused, rough, and bore many scars on his palm from constantly climbing mountains, and ropes and swinging his ice pick. His fingers were thick with tough skin. There was no time for self-care for him and the consequences bore itself on his hands. With a saddened expression, Shepherd clasped his hand in between hers. Her chest ached for Wanderer, praying for the man who didn’t deserve to live a life like his. 

Shepherd gingerly touched the rough callouses of his hand, her fingers caressing his palm.

“Does it hurt? Your hands?” Wanderer shook his head and took his hand away to put his glove back on.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just… It’s been too long since I’ve felt the touch of another person’s hand. I’ve forgotten the feeling. Years of being alone have made me used to forgetting and I’m afraid of losing that feeling again.” Wanderer looked away from Shepherd, suddenly afraid of disappointing her. 

“Hm,” Shepherd only looked solemnly at him. The sky turned into a light blue-grey color as the Snow began to gently fall from the sky. Wanderer instinctively pulled his fur-lined hood tighter around his head as specks of white dotted his dark blue winter coat. Shepherd pulled her cloak closer around her, thinking of what to say. 

They sat in silence once again. 

“Wanderer.”

“...”

Shepherd put her hands on Wanderer’s helmeted face, brushing the fallen snow away with her thumbs from his glowing, purple, horizontal visor. She gently pulled his face to hers, their foreheads touching and making a soft “clink” as the sound of metal hit together. Wanderer was surprised but cautiously welcomed her touch. He slowly raised a hand to place on top of hers.

“I’m not going anywhere, Wanderer. You won’t be alone this time.” 

“...” 

“I promise you don’t have to do things by yourself anymore, Wanderer.”

“...”

“You’re going to be okay, you’re okay with me.”

The snow continued to fall on their shoulders. The silence was piercing as Shepherd waited for Wanderer to react.

Wanderer wrapped his arms slowly around Shepherd, pulling her into a gentle hug. She put a hand on the back of his head and the other on his back. He started crying softly into her shoulder, relieved to finally be vulnerable to the world.

[beantothemax]

The summer days grew longer and hotter. Keeping his coat on in twenty five degree weather was a crime, so Osvald left it in his room. It was the first day since leaving prison that he would not be wearing it. He'd grown to love it more than any other clothing item he ever had. It fit him perfectly, was warm and admittedly even looked good. He looked presentable wearing it.

"No sweater?" Elena asked as he descended the stairs.

"It's getting too hot for that," Osvald replied.

They were never the type to say good morning. To them, it was a strange and unnecessary greeting. Osvald poured two bowls of oatmeal, cutting up bananas for Elena's, smiling as he saw how invested she was in her book.

"Isn't it your fourth time reading that one? Shouldn't you find other books?" he asked.

"First off, it's my fifth time reading it. And no, reading it a fifth time is fine," she replied.

"If you insist," Osvald said.

Judging her for something so harmless would be hypocritical. In prison, he often found himself rereading the same three books over and over again. They were familiar and kind.

He passed her a bowl with oatmeal, bananas, raisins and yoghurt, just how she liked it.

"Thanks..." she stopped as she accepted the bowl, "woah where'd you get those scars?"

Osvald looked down, trying to figure out which ones she was talking about. There were far too many to keep track of.

"These ones," she pointed at his arm.

He looked down at the rows of horizontal lines on his left arm.

"Was it a monster with lots of claws?" she asked.

A monster maybe, but not quite claws.

Each one was a punishment for some kind of mistake while in prison. When he accidentally hurt someone, almost let his plans slip, or even just dropped what little food he was given.

Well, not all of them were punishments. Some existed only to make the pain of losing Rita and Elena bearable. Emotional pain was a stormy ocean, and he had only a rowboat and a single oar to traverse it.

But physical? He was practically an expert. It silenced the thoughts in his head. Gave him something else to focus on, some kind of problem that had an easy solution, rather than none at all.

Osvald's eyes wetted with tears as he recalled how they'd been made. All his crude, poorly sharpened tools.

"It's..." he paused, "it's a very scary story. I'll tell you when you're older."

His voice was weak and small as he spoke. He didn't want to admit to his daughter that he'd done such a thing to himself. He never should've worn a short sleeved shirt at all. His scars seemed to sting the longer he thought of them.

"Oh, ok then. I bet that stupid monster is sorry it ever even looked in your direction!" Elena laughed.

"Yeah, maybe," he sniffled.

She knew so little about all his problems. She didn't know her being alive practically defeated the monster, or that her smile kept it at bay.

Elena finally noticed he was crying. A concerned look painted her face as she rushed to his side.

"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?" she frowned.

"Heaven's no, of course not. It's just a sad story," Osvald chuckled.

He took her into his arms, and held her tight. Some other time, he'd have to find another excuse why he couldn't tell her where the scars were from.

WAS THIS YOUR PLAN PIE. YOU GET ME ATTACHED TO OSVALD WITH YOUR FACTUALLY CORRECT OPINIONS ABOUT HIM AND YOUR FLUFFY FICS WITH HIM AND ELENA ONLY TO STOMP OUT WHAT REMAINS OF MY SOUL SHORTLY AFTER WITH THE MOST HEART-RENDING ANGST IVE READ IN MY LIFE. WAS IT

[nytehavyn-circle]

He rolled over and showed her his back properly. It was scarred to hell, looking like a topographical road map. Some straight, some jagged. Some scars were light, some were thick and angry-looking. Some of the scars were horizontal, some were vertical.

"What ya see right now... is punishment, Some scars er from my 'Huntin, and several of them er from bein' tortured." Tolaas swallowed hard. His voice was so quiet, so vulnerable... and he sounded meek right now.

"I weren't always a kind person, Anne," he inhaled deeply, but the breath caught in his throat when he tried to exhale. The breath hitched and he was finally able to exhale fully.

Jesus, he hoped to the gods that what he was about to tell her wouldn't change her love for him. Most people he'd been with didn't know about his past history. Mori did, and Anne soon would. He was making himself vulnerable for her because she deserved to know.

"When I started 'Huntin in the human world, outside a'the ShadowLands, I created hell. I caused havoc 'cross the contrysides, from continent ta continent. I didn't know any better at that point, 'cause I really wasn't taught compassion when I was bein' trained ta be a 'Hunter in the ShadowLands. I was taught ta destroy any escaped ShadowDemons at any cost. So I did."

He sighed again, his voice so very soft as he spoke. And it was full of fear, as well. This was so difficult for him to talk about, but Anne needed to know.

Tolaas slowly sat up, keeping his back to her, so she could see his 'story' written out in the scars on his back.

"Well, one day, one a'the villages I crashed ta the ground retaliated. I was beaten severely an' left fer dead at the edge a'the forest. While I was dyin', this man approached me. Told me his name - Terran Nytefyer. Told me he'd been watching me fer a while an' could help me if'n I wanted it. But I had ta ask ta be saved from certain death... So I begged and pleaded fer him ta save me, ta snatch me from the jaws a'death. He granted my request an' sired me."

He ran a hand through his hair, scratched his head lightly, and let his hand fall back into his lap.

"He tried ta teach em, ta help me grow. But I got worse. With my newfound abilities, I got a lil' power hungry. I started hurtin' people on purpose. I'd do things ta cause fights, just so I could hurt someone. An' I took pleasure from it."

He shook his head, and glanced over his shoulder back at Anne. "This went on fer a few years. Until Terran had had 'nuff a'watchin' me abuse what was given ta me. He caught me, and tossed me inta the dungeon a'NyteHavyn. Let's just say I learned how ta 'ppreciaate humanity durin' my time down there. When he finally released me, I wasn interested in how humanity changed. I traveled the world, startin' ta help people where I could, instead a'hurtin'. An' it felt good. It felt better."

Tolaas turned on the bed to look at Anne. "It's easy ta be bad an' evil. It takes no thought. Ya just do. But it takes work ta be a good an' kind person. Ya hafta fight fer it, want it with everythin' ya have in ya. Ya hafta choose it an' want it. An' then spread it 'round. I slowly found this out. An' the more I did it, the more I wanted ta help instead a'hinder. I watched humanity grow, watched nations rise an' fall, kings an' queens be benevolent er sadistic..."

He shook his head, lightly scratched his chest. "I even began to fight in wars an' battles, always tyin' ta take the fight of what was right - an' not always realizin' that sometimes I was on the wrong side, 'till too late."

"Over the centuries, what I've seen a'humanity thrills me, fills me with joy. Ta see what ya've created, how ya've progressed as a people. Yes, there's lots bad in the world, 'specially right now, but there's so much more good. People er mostly good."

"I even began to find out how amazin' love was - an' still is. How it can make ya fly, er even sometimes crash an' burn. But still make ya feel grateful ya experienced it."

"The scared ya see on my back er my punishment, as I said - but they're also a reminder that some people can be redeemed, even if'n it comes with a price. I believe I'm still payin' fer my sins in some way, but I refuse ta go back ta those dark days a'my past."

He narrowed his eyebrows, and his eyes, staring at the bed but not seeing it. "It would be so easy to go back... but then I would lose everythin' I had. I'd lose what I've done ta keep my humanity, ta fight for redemption, ta pay fer my sins. I refuse. With everythin' in me, I refuse."

Tolaas locked eyes with her. "That's why I love so hard and deep. Because people deserve ta be loved, they deserve ta be cared for. They deserve ta know that they're worthy a'love. Because love makes the world better, makes people better. I've lost so many people in my life, Anne. An' I'll prolly lose more. But while they're here, the people I love an' care fer will always know how much I love 'em. I'll never give 'em a reason ta think otherwise."

He reached over, took her hand, brought it to his lips, kissed it, gave t a soft squeeze then let it go.

"I hate talkin' 'bout my past, 'cause I can't do anythi' bout how I used ta be. All I can do - all I want ta do - is keep bein' kind, keep helpin' people. All the torture I've suffered, old an' new, is just a reminder a'how far I've come. An' how much further I have ta go."

And that was it. Everything he had to say in those moments fell from his lips. The words were laid bare, filled with sandess, and remorse, some words were tinged with fear; other words were laced with a deep love and understanding. And tears fell from his eyes as he told her all of this.

But there it was. Anne now knew why he was the way he was, why he suffered from PTSD, and why he loved so fully when he did love.

He waited for her reaction, her response. He waited with bated breath, waited on pins and needles.

Please, gods, don't let her stop loving me...

@frombehindpaleeyes

Tolaas listened, and his face contorted with sadness. "Oh, baby," he whispered. "I didn't know... I'm so sorry." He stroked her cheek with his thumb after she placed his hand there. "An' there's no more pain? Er does it still bother ya from time ta time?" he asked.

He gave a heavy sigh and decided she needed to learn the truth, if she was to understand anything about him, she needed to learn the truth.

He had already told Mori, long ago, shortly after they met and started being together, because of the intense and almost fate-intended convergence of decisions that had led them together because their intense connection and attraction to each other had seemed purposeful, as driven by a higher hand.

Tolaas' connection to Anne had been almost just as strong, too. And he firmly believed they were meant to be together, as well; as if, once more, their fates had been guided, purposefully, to intertwine.

He'd believed he was meant to be together with his other partners, too, but it was more like they had found out they had gotten along, and there was something between them, but it had taken longer for the feeling of being in love had surfaced. With Mori and Anne, it had been almost instant.

Therefore, he wasn't ready to tell his other partners. Probably wouldn't tell them for a while yet. Even though they loved each other, he didn't know how they would judge him for his sins of the past.

But he believed... no, he knew that Anne wouldn't judge him.

Eyes still brimming with tears, Tolaas cleared his throat. I'm gonna tell ya somethin'... an' it's gonna take a bit. But I'mma need ya ta pay 'ttention, 'kay? It'll help ya understand me more."

@frombehindpaleeyes

[xecutivecucumber]

Rexsoka Week 2021 Day 7: FUBAR

I hope everyone enjoyed my Rexsoka week contributions. I've had a lot of fun with them. Thanks for all the support!

This one is a little less focused on their relationship and more on the...effed up part of things.

TW: Non Graphic Torture

Day 7: FUBAR

Rex had hung for hours. They'd stripped him of his armor and blacks. His arms were wrenched upward and over a horizontal bar of metal. His legs were forced in an uncomfortable position, as if he was doing a squat midair. Most of his weight was on his bent knees. The device he was entangled with seemed to be a relic of the Separatists.

Rex had no hope of getting out of here alive. It would be foolish to go so deep into Imperial territory for one soldier, even as high ranking as he was. And Rex prided himself with the knowledge that he would never give any sensitive information away.

They'd started the normal Imperial interrogation process with him, using an IT-0 droid to try and get him to talk. Rex was better than that. The clones had been trained to resist the mundane mind probe that the droids used.

But then they had stopped. Some higher up wanted to interrogate Rex themselves, and Rex was to be untouched until they got there.

So Rex hung. The pain of his shoulders and knees was probably more effective than what any of the average Imperial idiots could inflict. By the whispered tones of the Imps in charge of him, whoever was coming for Rex was far from average.

Rex didn't fear pain. He'd been under extreme distress, physical, mental, and emotional, before. He hadn't broken then. He wouldn't break now.

Finally, the door slid open, and a tall, dark figure swept in. Its head was covered in a helmet that hid any trace of humanity. The sound of rasping breathing accompanied it, as if each breath was forced in and out of the thing's body. It stared at Rex, and Rex was so transfixed by its blank stare that he almost didn't notice the thing's companion.

A clone, holding his black helmet at his side, with greying hair and a wandering scar down the left side of his face.

Rex's breath caught.

"Cody? " He asked.

He didn't need it confirmed. It was Cody. Rex could never forget his ori'vod's face.

It seemed that Cody had forgotten Rex. He looked Rex over with a blank stare. His chip was still active.

"Captain Rex." The dark figure said in a deep, robotic voice that nudged something in Rex's memory. "You were listed as killed in action."

"Well," Rex said, though he could not tear his eyes from Cody's face. "Reports can be wrong."

"Yes." The figure said. "It seems so. Which leads me to believe that others that were believed dead may yet be alive."

Rex tried not to let his fear show in his face. He knew who this man wanted.

"Tell me." The figure stepped forward. "Where is Ahsoka Tano?"

Rex managed to look away from his brother and into the figure's helmeted face.

"Ahsoka Tano is dead." He said with as much conviction as he could muster.

"I see." The figure said. "Commander, you may begin."

"Yes, Lord Vader." Cody said.

In a fluid movement he withdrew an electrostaff and slammed it into Rex's side. Rex hissed through his teeth as he felt ribs break. Then the electricity began coursing through his body in burning waves. Rex’s jaw clenched involuntarily, keeping him from making much noise.

Rex fell limp as Cody finally drew the staff away.

"Where is Ahsoka Tano?" Vader asked again.

Rex struggled to lift his head.

"She's dead." He said.

Vader stared at him for a long time before turning to Cody.

"Continue."

Ahsoka stole through the halls of the Imperial facility. Rex was here somewhere. At least, that’s what she prayed. The chances of him surviving at the hands of the Imperials seven days were-

Ahsoka refused to let herself dwell on it.

She paused at a corner when she heard the idle chatter of two TK troopers nearby.

"I wish Lord Vader would hurry up and kill the wretch." One complained. "Patrolling the detention level is becoming a real pain."

"Gives me a headache." The other grumbled. "Judging by its screams, I doubt it can last much longer."

Ahsoka's heart quickened. He was alive. She waited for the troopers to move past and quickly made her way to the nearest lift. The Force guided her hands to hit level B3.

The lift opened and Ahsoka felt sick. Rex's screams were echoing throughout the hallway. There was something else; whatever was torturing him was a Force user. A powerful and Dark one at that.

Ahsoka grit her teeth. There went her plan to go in sabers blazing. She edged closer to the area from which Rex's noises of distress were coming from. Soon she could make out words.

" SHE'S DEAD! SHE'S DEAD!" Rex was screaming.

So that's what they wanted to know. Ahsoka tried to reach for Rex's mind, but it was saturated with pain, oblivious to everything but the torture being inflicted on him.

Ahsoka found a storage closet adjacent to the room Rex was in. She would have to wait this out, no matter how badly she wanted to stop Rex's tormentors.

After a while Rex's screams turned to sobs, and the words he said changed.

" Kote, vod, gedet'ye!"

Cody, brother, please.

Ahsoka's heart clenched as she translated the words in her head. He was calling for Cody. She prayed that he was seeing some delusion, and that Cody was not playing a part in his torture.

His sobs began to fade. Ahsoka pressed a montral to the wall. A door opened and shut. Ahsoka waited a minute before unsheathing her sabers. She drew them in a circle in the wall and forced the cut section forward. The room she stepped into was overly bright. The floor was tacky and pinkish. Ahsoka swallowed bile before looking at the back of the room.

Rex was twisted around a metal frame, forced into what looked like an excruciating position. He was mostly naked, save for his grey undershorts. It seemed there wasn't a bit of skin that wasn't bruised, burned, or cut. Blood ran in dribbles from fresh slashes on his chest. He didn't look up as she approached him. His head lolled forwards.

" She's dead. " He whispered through chapped lips. " Kote, gedet'ye, she's dead. "

Ahsoka shook herself and wasted no more time in releasing him from his bindings. He'd lost weight in the few days he'd been here, and Ahsoka easily lifted him. A soft groan escaped him as she shouldered most of his weight.

"It's okay, Rex." Ahsoka promised him. "It's over now."

It would be. Even if they were caught, the answer the Imperials wanted was given by her presence. There would be no need to continue his interrogations.

Of course, they could always use him against her.

She quickly scanned near her. There was one guard nearby. The dark presence was getting further away.

Ahsoka set Rex down before slipping out the door. The startled guard didn't have time to make a noise before Ahsoka slammed him against the wall. He crumpled. Ahsoka retrieved Rex and started their painfully slow way down the corridor.

Rex occasionally made soft noises of pain as she jostled him. They got to the turbolift with no incidents. Ahsoka could sense the guards on the level on which her stolen Imperial shuttle was docked. There weren’t many, and by some miracle of the Force she managed to get Rex to the hangar without being seen. He let out a pitiful groan as she quickened her pace.

"I'm sorry." Ahsoka whispered. "We're almost out. Just-"

The dark presence suddenly reappeared, looming between them and the shuttle.

Ahsoka had no time, not with Rex's dead weight, to move before the man to which the presence belonged stepped from behind another ship. If it could be called a man. It seemed more like a droid.

"Ahsoka Tano." It said. "Captain Rex has become a more convincing liar. I almost believed him when he said you were dead."

Ahsoka tensed. She would not leave Rex. But she didn't see a way out of this.

"Something I'm sure you're eager to rectify." Ahsoka spat.

"There is a way for you to survive. For you both to survive." It said. "Join the Empire and you will both live."

"And become whatever you are? No." Ahsoka said.

The figure did not immediately attack.

"You think this path leads to anything else?" It asked. "Your attachment to the clone is far too deep."

"I'm sure it was only attachment that made you fall." Ahsoka said.

Her mind raced. What could she do? She would not leave Rex, but she couldn’t move quickly with his weight. And this thing was powerful .

"I see that you are resolved." The thing said. "Then I offer you this. Surrender, and I will give you both painless deaths."

For half a moment Ahsoka was tempted. Rex's pain was saturating the Force. She didn't want him to hurt anymore. And she saw no way out.

Her hesitation was seen as a refusal. The thing reached out a clawed hand. Ahsoka tensed, but nothing touched her. Rex, on the other hand, stiffened. Ahsoka nearly dropped him as he struggled for air.

"No!" Ahsoka said. "I didn't-"

A blaster shot rang through the hangar. The thing whirled to the side and deflected it with a hand. Rex relaxed.

Ahsoka only paused long enough to see a familiar clone pointing a blaster at the thing. She drew upon the Force and darted forward, past the figure who was concerned with blocking the barrage of blaster fire raining down on it.

"No more!" She heard Cody shout. " No more! "

She reached out briefly to try to connect with Cody and found a shattered mind. Whatever they had done to Rex had been too much for him.

Ahsoka dragged Rex the last few feet to the shuttle.

"Now, R-7!" She shouted.

The shuttle's door began to rise. Right before it shut, Ahsoka saw the Dark creature shear through Cody's chest with a blood red blade.

There was no med bay in the Imperial shuttle, so Ahsoka had to lay Rex on a clean sheet in the middle of the passenger bay. It had taken nearly two hours to dress Rex's injuries. Ahsoka had to set his broken fingers, wrap his ribs, and put bacta on every burn and laceration. He began to stir as she was finishing wrapping the cut up soles of his feet.

He groaned as he shifted, eyes opening to a slit.

"'Soka." He mumbled.

He struggled to lift himself.

"Shhh." Ahsoka said, gently easing himself back down. "Lie still."

She began running her fingers through his short hair in a hopefully soothing manner. He closed his eyes again and his head sagged to the side.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"Hurts." He slurred.

Ahsoka frowned. She already had him on pretty heavy painkillers. She couldn't give him more, but she hated that he was still in pain.

She continued to massage his head. She hoped he was heading back to sleep.

"Cody?" He asked.

Ahsoka felt sick at his hopeful tone.

"I'm so sorry, Rex." She said. "He didn't make it."

Rex didn't say anything at first. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Was it-" He struggled to form the words. "You?"

Ahsoka moved her hand to the side of his face.

"That thing killed him." Ahsoka said. "He died so we could escape."

Rex squeezed his eyes shut. The agony that warped the Force around him deepened. He turned his head away from her, a tear tracing down his cheek.

“No more.” He muttered. “ No more. ”

Check it out and my other Rexsoka Fics on A03!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34125910/chapters/85234081

https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExecutiveCucumber/works

[horrorslashergirl]

Soft Yandere Chromeskull x reader whose self-conscious because she has scars down hald her face and body.

 Chromeskull x Reader- The scars that reunited

Authors Note: It was supposed to be soft, but it turned angsty. 

Warning: 18+ for Violence, Murder, Abuse

Words: 1.4k

It was moments like this that you cursed yourself for being the wrong person at the wrong place because when your eyes fluttered open, your gaze was met with a scene from a horror movie. From what you could conclude on your surroundings, you were in some kind of basement, your hands chained up and over your head, feeling like an animal in a butchering shop. You saw two other women in the same position, they were there at the masquerade party with you, clothes and masks still intact on you and them.

This is not how you expected tonight's event to go; after months of not getting out, you finally decided to listen to your friends and have some fun, get out, know people, and such. The only reason you agreed was that this party was a masquerade one and you could hide the things that destroyed your life and drowned your self-esteem.

Most would say it was an accident, but you would never agree that having someone slice half your face and leave scars all over your body was an accident. You had broken up with your boyfriend almost one year ago, because of his use of drugs. You tried to get him into rehab, put the pieces of his life together. Your nurturing side got you into him not wanting to leave you.

You remembered his words as he cut and burned places on your body.

'You think you're so pretty, huh? Too good to be with me? Let's so who will want you after I'm done with you.'

You didn't know acid could hurt so bad, that a blade could leave you like this. It was a good thing, the police got there before he could fully mutilate you. They charged him for a murder attempt and put him into prison for good and even you received the news that he killed himself, because of how the other prisoners beat him. You should be happy that he got what he deserved, but that didn't give you the former look.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a door open and a set of footsteps march down the stairs until a pair of long black-clad legs stopped into the entry of the basement.

Both you and the girls were silent as you all looked at the person that entered this chamber. The person was male, tall and I mean very tall, over 6'5 for sure, dressed fully in black, bald and what really caught the attention was the silver shinning skull-mask that hid his face.

"Let me go, you bastard! I don't deserve to be here!" one of the girls screamed and in an instant the man, who you were sure was your kidnapper, marched to her, ripping her mask off to see her make-up streaked face, his gloved hand gripped her jaw so tightly you heard it snap and a piercing scream hit your ears.

He just broke her jaw, but she wasn't dead yet.

A shiny glimpse caught your eyes and your eyes widened more as you saw an intimidating knife in the man's hand, moving the sharp blade down the woman's chest oh so slowly, then stopping at her abdomen, only to push the blade to the hilt inside her, dragging the weapon horizontally and letting her insides slowly slip out, until her head hung low, signaling her death.

The other girl began to cry, shaking violently, but you had a different reaction, you were frozen, feeling like this was a total deja vu, memories of torture coming back to you like a train.

The masked man stepped towards the crying girl, who began to beg for her life, squirming like a scared animal, only to stop when the man stepped around her, getting behind her shivering body, only to scream when the man began to start slashing at her back, getting another knife like the previous one.

The girl's dress fell down from her body and blood began to pour at her feet, skin and muscles began thorn until her spine was visible. This had to be a nightmare because you never thought that you would meet another monster like your ex-boyfriend.

The girl was still alive, making you wonder how much pain she was in. The male stepped in front of her, knives ready and in a flash, both blades pierced her stomach, being dragged up until both her breasts were cut in half. You noticed just now a video camera mounted on his shoulder. What sick pleasure could this man have for wanting to film these things?

He turned his head towards you, eyes wide with fear behind your mask as he slowly stepped towards you, so you prepared for the worst, only to see him pull out a phone from the pockets of his slacks, typing on it.

'Last one piggy standing.'

You knew you were going to die slowly, you knew it, no wonder he left you the last. Now, he was just inches away from your hanging body, your wrists hurting so bad from the metal cuffs digging into your skin. The gloved hand moved towards your face, ripping the mask off and making you gasp.

He stopped, the mask falling at his feet as he took in your face, or what remained of it.

Jesse had seen all types of piggies and the moment he saw you at the party, not even an inch of skin showing, he knew you would make a great piggy, but he never expects what laid behind the mask you were wearing.

Small spots of being burnt were on your cheek and down your jawline, disappearing under the high black collar of your dress, but what pulled on his attention was the long scar going from your eyebrow down your eye and stopping at your jawline. The other half of your face was intact and he could guess you were a very gorgeous woman before.

"D-Don't look." your whisper pulled on his attention, seeing you close your eyes and lower your head, your hair coming over your face to hide your scars.

So you were more ashamed of your disfiguration that afraid that he might kill you or worse, torture you. That was his intention, but now? He was more curious about what else you were hiding under your clothes. He raised the knife and you prepared for the pain to come, only for the sound of material to meet your ears.

Wide eyes moved down to see your clothes being torn, exposing your skin. Jesse felt his breath hitch, the brown eye behind the mask wide open as he took in every little detail on your scarred skin. Scars from blades littering your skin along with chaotic placed burns randomly put from your chest to your abdomen, and the long blade scars running from the sides of your waist to your hip and down your leg.

Nitrile covered hands moved to rest on the scars of your hips, thumb stroking the rough skin there. You let out a series of whimpers, turning your head away. None has ever seen you like this and when you felt the cold mask moved beside your ear, nuzzling into your neck that had round scars from being burned with a car lighter.

"J-Just kill me...I-I don't wanna be seen like this." you cried silently.

Jesse smirked behind the mask. Kill you? That would be a shame; you weren't a piggy. Oh no. There was something deeper on you that he wanted to explore. This was an exquisite surprise for him.

He pulled his masked face away from you, only to pull the chromed skull away and the sight you saw made your breath hitch. He was deeply scarred, all his face, looking much worse than your own half of the face. You knew starring was bad, you hated the way people looked at you the next day you got out of the hospital.

The black-clad hand gripped your jaw to make you look at him, one brown eye looked up and down your face, taking his time to inspect you.

God, were you beautiful.

The next thing you felt rough lips press to yours, a gasp leaving you and he took advantage to thrust his tongue inside your mouth, pushing against yours in a show of dominance.

You didn't know what to do. It's been so long since someone touched you, let alone kiss you. The kiss was sloppy, full of tongue and teeth, biting on your tongue and sucking on it, making your legs shake and if chains weren't supporting your body up, you knew you would have fell down.

He slowly pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your mouths, your wide eyes looking into his smug gaze.

His fingers typed on the phone.

'Not a piggy.'

[nevermore-ocs]

Azrael x Plus-Sized!Reader: A Real Alpha

Author’s note: IT IS FINALLY DONE 9.3K WORDS OF THE FIRST PART OF AN X READER WITH THE ONE AND ONLY HUNTER ALIEN BOI AZRAEL!! Summary: After a painful break-up in between you and your previous partner, Azrael sees to it that you’re comforted and happy again to the fullest extent. Warnings: NSFW closer to the end THAT’S ALL-

“You do not have to shed any more tears for that mudak (asshole), (Name).”

Your ears nearly blocked that out, the sniffles staggering out of you with your body twitching in time your hitching breaths, Azrael’s words were almost muffled to you. “I-I’m sorry, Azrael,” you whimpered out, for what felt like the 50th times and like the numerous utterances before, he shook his head to brush off the apology, and his large, strong arm tightened around your waist and with gentle pushes urging you to snuggle your head onto his shoulder, he quietly spoke up again. “You have nothing to apologize for, little one, this is that cruel dog’s fault, not yours.” His hand, taking up most of the free space on your side, stroked slowly up and down, his digits lingering on your waist in soothing pets, it drew a shaky sigh from the depths of your chest. You at least attempted to even your breathing, but every rampant thought that rushed through your head and dug its way into your brain like a deadly spike and imprinted itself there. Any progress that you made of controlling yourself went down the drain, you felt the sobs start to rip through your body once more and on impulse, your arms shot out to Azrael and you clung onto him tightly, with your face buried into his broad chest. It felt like you were crying your eyes out, that if you kept going, you weren’t totally sure if you’d even have anymore tears to shed.

Azrael, overcoming the surprise of the swift, tight hug you threw around him, his open arms carefully closed around your frame in a much softer but warm hug, like as if he hugged you as tight as you were, he’d break you like a wilting flower with the gentlest breeze of wind bristling crumbling the weak, dead petals, but, his hands still traveled up and down the small of your back in slow, tender strokes, his digits taking a few moments to massage a certain spot in the middle of your tense, locked shoulder blades, surprisingly, it did make your rigid shoulders gingerly relaxed from their raised position, even if it was a gradual, crawling pace from the desired, fully rested goal, it was improvement, and even the tiniest amount was enough to make a gentle smile paint itself onto the alien’s face. “There you go, little one, there you go, you are safe, I swear it…” his low, accented voice rumbled through his chest, you felt it, what with your head nestled so much against him, his voice, as if it were a warm, quilted blanket, surrounded you in a comforting aura, to think that someone so dangerous, so otherworldly, would take the time out of his day to make sure that you didn’t cry over someone who didn’t deserve it, it surprised you, sure, but it made you happy more than you realized. Daxton was a dangerous place, humans being a smaller percentage of what roamed in the city’s streets, the fact that not only were you somehow good friends with the worst of the worst in this place, but you were currently being cradled in one of their arms definitely made you take a moment to compose yourself. You sniffled and tried to force your tears to halt for now to finally take a slow glance up at Azrael, the hunter alien who was from a distance icy planet who knows how far away, the same man who’s killed creature after creature with the very same tools that were petting your back and threading their fingers through your (hair color) tresses and taking those few extra steps to pet at your scalp before brushing back any lingering strands away from your face, sometimes you questioned to yourself how an alien could be so much kinder and sweeter than the humans you’re used to but after what happened, it didn’t take too much convincing anymore. If anything, humans could take a few lessons from Azrael in that department. You, at first, were going to sit back in the dip of Azrael’s lap and just let yourself relax, perhaps even drift off to sleep  as crying took more energy out of you than you originally thought, but, that’s when your eyes really drifted over the alien’s features to take in even the smallest of details. He was the enticing combination of cute, almost boyishly so, and worn-out ruggedness with every hunt that he’s been through taking one toll after another on not only his body, but his mind too. You could only begin to imagine the story behind the three long scars that bore deep across the entire horizontal length of his face, across his sets of eyes, his nose, even his mouth. “Azrael?” You peeped up, your voice, sounding more level than it did, was quite gentle and quiet to the ear, but his talented, pointed ones instantly heeded and he turned his head to face you and his half-lidded, sweet gaze met yours again. “Yes, little one?” He responded with the same kind of light whisper as you. Your heart fluttered, his deep voice honey on your ears, you leaned further against him, your head tilting some to the side and it rested on one of his shoulders comfortably and you gazed up at him in a trance, you couldn’t describe it at first, your emotions left your mind a disoriented, fuzzy mess but this felt right, this warm closeness with him, how his large, strong arms fit around your full, curvaceous body with little effort, and just how he was taking so much time in the world to comfort you, to ensure that your tears would stop that you would rest well and content tonight. He didn’t have to do this for you, at all, it wasn’t his job to, but with how he carried himself right into your room and made himself at home to fully care for you and only you, it was almost as if he needed to or else it wouldn’t sit right with him in his head, in his heart. “You don’t think I’m too big, do you? I-I know this is kinda out of nowhere-well, n-not out of *nowhere* but s-still, I, heh, I know it’s not the most attractive thing in the world-” His hand lifted and he cupped his palm over your mouth to silence your words, and your surprised eyes flickered up to his face, and his taken aback expression read of quiet hurt, as if the question itself, when you uttered it, it insulted him. He, at first, silently shook his head and then he spoke up, “Not at all, little one! Why would I be bothered by it? Is beautiful, yes? Is more to love! A fool would be bothered by something as trivial as that, who would complain getting to hug every inch of you? If you were my woman, you would be getting your body worshipped by me every single day, whenever you asked for me to do so. The Gods graced this world, this universe, with the perfect form of you, there is nothing wrong with you,” you didn’t know what to say, your mouth was partially hung open, words hanging off of the cliff of your tongue but they didn’t take that plunge, so, they stayed stuck in your mouth and you couldn’t help but the stare that came from you, riddled with disbelief and it seemed to the resonate with him as he picked it up, and he continued. “If you really think there is something wrong with your body, (name), let me reassure you, from the bottom of my heart and spirit that there is not one problem, yes? You are not ‘too big’, is not possible! Personal preference, I would want a bigger woman, be too afraid to squeeze a smaller one; I would break her!” His words melted into laughter, hoping that his little joke would conjure up some kind of laugh from you too, and his internal wishes were granted as the quietest of giggles escaped from your lips and left a smile on your face in its wake. “A real alpha,” he started again whilst he stood up from the bed finally with you hoisted up in his arms so easily, he held you in a bridal style and instinctively, your arms shot up from their resting positions on your stomach, and they coiled around his strong neck. Turning to face the bed, he bent over to slowly lower you to the cradling embrace of your mattress, and he slipped your looped arms over his head and he gingerly laid them across your chest and stomach, giving one of your arms a slow, deliberate caress til he reached back with the same hand and he even fluffed up a couple, or a few, of pillows amongst the bevy of them splayed across the head of your bed. “Wouldn’t let something so unimportant get in the way of making the person of their dreams their mate. To us, to me, it does not matter what you look like, you are kind, you are sweet, you are smart, you are a light that can be seen from even the darkest of caves, never forget that. How your body is shaped, how much you fill out your clothes, a dress, a palm even, is bonus!” He quietly chimed with a light chuckle fluttering out of him. Again, you found yourself at a loss for words, not even knowing what to begin with other than just laying there in a stunned silence with your (eye color) orbs gawking at him with your mouth hung ajar. Sometimes you wondered how he even existed, only to be quickly reminded he was an alien for a myriad of reasons, tons of which you were thankful for since in the back of your gnawed at the back of your mind, a thought that a human who even attempted to mirror the same kind as uplifting qualities as him wouldn’t even exist. He thought of you in such high regards that didn’t even fathom with you at first, but it touched you to say the least. He grasped the edge of your blanket and pulled it up to the bottom of your chin and he straightened it out across your body, making sure that it laid comfortably flat against your body, his hand, placed on top of your hip, cascaded down in a slow, smooth motion, rubbing the warm fabric down against your body. “Azrael…” You breathed out, he was crouched down next to the side of your bed with his chin resting on his crossed arms laid on the edge of the mattress as all four of his eyes glanced at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue, if you could this time.

“Thank you.” It wasn’t much, but it was definitely the loudest phrase echoing throughout your mind at first, if anything was gonna come tumbling out of your mouth in shy, touched mumbles, it was those two words. His eyes softened and his smile spread wider, enough for the tips of his sharpened teeth to peek out from underneath his lips, and somehow, it made him even cuter in your eyes. “You are most welcome, little one, and if you ever, and I mean ever, need to be reminded that you are a gift from the Gods themselves, do not hesitate to come to me again, okay? To see your eyes light up with sincerity and feel proud of yourself once more, it is the greatest treasure in the universe, and nothing would make me happier than to indulge in it more.” His hand unraveled from his crossed arms and he moved it up to one of your hands holding the edge of your blanket and he wrapped his fingers around yours and gave you a gentle squeeze, his thumb grazing over your knuckles and where finger met palm, his trained eyes making sure to watch his claws and to pull them away when they even got a centimeter too close to your skin, and after giving your hand a few more squeezes, he, to you, regrettably, retracted his hand back to his side and stood back up to his towering 11’0” height. You had to catch yourself, but your hand had outstretched from underneath the blanket’s edge, reaching out to grasp and hold his all over again, however, somehow, he didn’t notice, thanks to his head turned away to take a quick glance around your room and when he did finally lock gazes with you again, you snatched your hand away in time and hid it back under the darkened cloth. “It is late, and I can imagine crying made you tired. You should get sleep, rest up and get your strength back, yes?” He gave you one more genuinely sweet smile with a quiet hum flowing from him, before turning around to face the door and he even started to step towards it.

And it was there, staring at his fleeting back that the rest of the world seemed to just fade away until it was just you, gazing at the man who single-handedly changed the entire night for you, who made your negative thoughts seem to melt away into nothingness, to be long gone and forgotten about and to never grace your mind again to cause you harm, to actually put your faith again into something, what started to feel frivolous and unimportant, like love. The words fled from your lips quicker than you could catch them. “Azrael, wait.” Your eyes widened when you heard yourself, and then you were sure that your eyes were going to pop out of their sockets when he turned around to you all over again.

“Yes, little one? Something wrong?” What did you wanna say? Your mind was cluttered, the remnants of what happened prior still littering around in your thoughts in hurtful piles but then also growing overwhelmed with the comforting, blinding feelings towards Azrael’s overshadowing the damage that was done, it was confusing, you couldn’t explain it, but, you knew you didn’t want him to leave so soon already, did you?

“Stay with me.” 

Well, that certainly came out a lot stronger than you originally wanted or planned. Azrael’s eyes widened, and he jumped very slightly with the sheer shock running through his body, he almost did a double take by glancing at anything else in the room, away from you, only to find himself staring back at your own stunned face. You flickered your gaze around, your lips forming the possible fragments of words coming to your mind but nothing came out, it just looked like you were physically trying to search for the words in front of you instead of mulling them over in your cluttered mind. However, from staring over your form, the alien’s talented, analytical eyes studied you for only just a few moments, quietly deducing just what was bothering you all over again, and the cause of your outburst, both sets of his eyes softened whilst a low, quiet sigh escaped his nose, returning to your bedside, he reached up and placed one of his large, clawed hands onto your shoulder and he held it, squeezing in a soft, soothing way. “You are feeling обеспокоенный (troubled), conflicted yes? Trying to heal quicker from the pain done unto you, with me. Do not say things that you truly do not mean, you can feel better without me.” His tone had a gentle firmness to it, not coming off too strong that he was yelling at you or anything vile like that, but as if he was trying to teach a lesson to you, words of wisdom that hopefully would help brush away any of the confusions entangling your thought processes in its wicked web. You did listen, of course, even your eyes drifted downward to the top of the mattress. Maybe he was right. He certainly sounded sure of himself. Was this some kind of attempt to rush and hurry your soul through any pain? By getting over the awful excuse of an ex with someone who was most assuredly better than them in every single way, shape, and form? But, it wasn’t like you to do this with just anyone, I mean, you’ve known all of the villains for a couple of years now, and found yourself close to all of them and you considered Azrael one of the closest to you, and he you, but, did you *really* wanna take that dive? To do something more with him? It’s not like you haven’t thought about it before against your better judgement, it was confusing, and made you second-guess some other things in your head that once were set in stone, was now crumbling into unsure doubts. Then, there were those other feelings, like having him this close where his warm aura radiated from him and covered around you like a blanket, the black, deep-set, caring worriedness in his blacked out eyes and how they were focused on you and only you, Hell, even the very obvious size difference in between the two of you was heavily noted, not only by the fact that he easily towered over you when he stood up beforehand, but how when you reached your hand towards his, your palm and fingers managed to coil around, at most, two of his clawed digits and you held them tightly, almost emitting the fear that he would leave sooner than you wished. Dragging your eyes back up to his scarred face, your hand at your side traveled up and you cupped his cheek to the best of your abilities, being so much smaller compared to him. You thumb, in a gentle, ghost of a tender caress, rubbed over the risen skin from the part of the scar situated right underneath his upper right eye, and with you two locked in such an intense gaze, now it was his turn to slowly don a light blue blush that spread across his face in a gradual glow, even the tips of his pointed ears started to brandish the same kind of bluish hue. You gave him a defiant shake of your head, “I want this, I-I want to do this with you, I do, I know I do, t-this isn’t some kind of…” you rolled your wrist, searching for the word, “Coping thing or anything, I swear…! You mean a lot to me, Azrael, and I wanna do...something, anything with you, only you, please…” Getting all of this off of your chest, both of your hands shot up to his cheeks and you cupped them, corralling all of his wandering, nervous eyes from going all over the place to focus solely on you and as if mirroring you, he opened his mouth and his lips attempted to form the words coming at his mind all at once to the point where no words found their way out and instead was replaced with a quiet squeak similar to that of a puma’s, it was too cute for you not to let out quiet giggle while a smile snuck its way onto your lips. Craning your head forward, you pressed your forehead against his in a nudge, something small and sweet that he’s done with you before as an affectionate gesture and almost instantly, his head leaned forward into yours and he returned it, nuzzling the side of his head against yours as a low, rumbling chuff-like noise emitted from the depths of his chest, again, seemingly identical to the chuff noises that a tiger can make. “Is it okay?” You questioned again, one of your hands glided down the side of his face and rested on the nape of his strong neck, letting your fingers trace over the start of a scar underneath the skin-tight under-armor he leisurely wore, “If you don’t want it too, you know you can tell me that right? I-If this is like, I-I’m pressuring you or anything, tell me to stop, and I’ll stop, and I’ll go to bed like you told me to,” you hurriedly reminded him, honestly, how he was feeling about this whole situation burned at your thoughts on top of your own, Azrael wasn’t human in the slightest, if that wasn’t obvious enough, and with how he had no partner with him when he came here in the first place, the thought of him having never done anything sexual before flashed through your head for a moment or two. “N-No, no! I...my apologies, (name), you, grace me with your kindness, being so patient with me.” He was always so sweet, it made your pounding heart flutter and you smiled wider at him as you reached up and threaded your fingers through his ridiculously soft strands of pastel blue hair, petting through the light tresses. “I am...more concerned with how you feel. Being in a hurt state can make you want things to stop the pain and I am more than happy to lay here with you until you do rest, but, something like this...it cannot be big, if there is something smaller that you humans indulge into with your own mating rituals, I can be open to that, but it cannot be anything else.” You blinked, “Why not-” suddenly, you remembered, and you swallowed up the question just before it left you too soon. “That’s right, your kind, you...mate for life.” You dragged out a long groan, your hand shooting up to your face to clap your palm over your forehead, almost as an attack onto yourself for forgetting something so crucial like that but him being much more nervous than you now started to make a lot more sense. “I am *so* sorry I forgot about that part of your culture, Azrael, I-I, ugh god I wasn’t thinking at all.” Rubbing down, you squeezed the bridge of your nose with a hint of annoyance towards yourself before dropping both of your arms onto your lap in defeat with your head turned away and your eyes narrowed along with your brow furrowed, you quietly scolded at yourself under your breath. “I do not want to take advantage of you.” The words surprised you. Lifting your head back up and facing him all over again, your wide eyes gawked at him, worried and curious, especially the first since you had no idea that he was thinking that if you two really did something like this, that he was taking advantage of you. “Azzy, what? Why would you think that?” You questioned, his eyes glancing away momentarily before he started to explain in a low tone. “On my home planet, it is not rare for Alphas, most certainly male, to take advantage of betas and omegas, fearful of them, if they have to give up their bodies to keep them alive, a lot of them fell obedient to others.” His eyes finally locked back onto your face, “And with your heart being hurt, feeling inadequate when you shouldn’t at all…” his hand crept up, cupping your cheek this time and his hand easily covered up almost the entire side of your head and face, his thumb grazing over the skin right underneath your eye. “I did not want it to seem the same. Это ужасная вещь, которую делают жестокие собаки (it is an awful thing done by cruel dogs), may the Gods forever damn the ones who do it, is just one reason why.” You leaned forward quickly and slung your arms around the alien’s large, broad frame, barely making it around the middle of his chest, letting your head burrow into his front as if you were a tick, “Well you,” you started, lifting your head enough to let your chin rest on the top of his chest to gaze upward at his curious expression, teetering on hurt thanks to the not-so-fun fact that he told you about his people, it was almost positive he was worried it would alter your opinion about him at all since he always referred to himself as a true, real Alpha. “Are nothing like those assholes, you know that? I mean you really pride yourself in that-” You gently teased in hopes to get him smiling again and it worked, a little, when the crack of a smile started to break out across his face, “You’re so much more sweeter, nicer, kinder, sometimes, honestly, it surprises me how you’re even called a villain here! I-I mean other than the whole, ‘taking skulls thing’ but still-!” The minimal distraught that had casted over him prior faded away at your emphasis and he couldn’t help but let out rather hearty laugh, one of his strong, large arms hooking around your waist to finally return your tight hug with his head craning down, he nestled his face into your (hair color) hair and you felt the soft rumble of low chuffs blowing through the soft tresses against your scalp. “You like the skull I gave you, yes? That was not too evil!” He joked in return, and it pulled more shared laughter out of the both of you since you bubbling up into a fit of a giggles caused his own laugh to come from him too and, thanks to the happiness sweeping you up, and momentarily brushing away any crumbs of darkness shadowing your mind, you leaned up and pressed a kiss again his nose. The alien squeaked out one of those puma-sounding noises at the small sign of affection, and after drifting his gaze back down at your expression to study your features, he leaned in and returned it by brushing his lips against your forehead so lightly and gently in a chaste kiss, he was always so careful with you, and you had no problem returning it. “Something small, is okay, right?” He questioned, a lilt of shyness threading through his voice as he brought up the prior topic and with a nod of your head, and a gentle smile walking onto your face, “Something small.” You reassured him. However, naturally, Azrael assumed it would be focused on you over himself, since he started to gently stand back up and start to peel the blanket off of you again and it seemed as though when he saw more and more of your body became exposed in a slow, gradual show for him, his sets of eyes traversed the pleasantly long journey of your plush-soft, curvy sides and wide hips, how the belly you had dipped down and, beforehand, you would find yourself being shrouded in the crippling shadow of your own self-doubt and self-conscious but there was something different now, it wasn’t there. It didn’t even begin to manifest itself over you when he was peeking further and further. Maybe it had to do with just how comforting Azrael’s gaze was, riddled with understanding and not a speck of judgement anywhere within the darkness of his four eyes. When he looked at you, it sent a static through you, a spark that was more than determined to reignite the flame inside of your body, and its attempts were more than capable in doing just that. His four orbs alone were enough to make your heartbeat throb harder in your chest and make your breath hitch in your lungs, as if it were glued to the very edges themselves. Although, something stirred within you, sure, the thought of Azrael taking the reins to whatever you two were planning gnawed at your mind in pleasant chews, there was another idea that started to swirl around in your mind, not one of negativity, nothing like that, but something more on the giving side. He did so much for you tonight, striving to do what he always did so masterfully, maybe it was time to do something back for him. Just before the grand reveal of your lower half, his free hand inched over towards your hip and laid it palm down against your skin, pulling a quiet gasp from the back of your throat. His hand, effortlessly taking over almost all of the space on the top of your thigh, was the combination of both soft from the extra padding on his digits and palm, with the scattering of calluses splayed on the edges of his hands and in the bends of his fingers, manifesting a silent story of just how much he pushed himself into his hunting. Your heart pounded, the thudding of it slamming against your chest rattled through your skull and pierced through your eardrums, practically silencing everything else whilst you stared at him, the softened expression that stayed true to his face, decorated with relaxed, half-lidded eyes and a warm smile spread across his lips, his four orbs flicked up at you, you assumed at first, but it took only the feel of his sharpened claws gently pricking and prodding at the thin material of your panties as a little warning to you that he was about to tug them down and off of you, and it was a gentle, silent reminder of what you had planned and on the fact that he even took the time to ready you, to ask wordlessly if it was okay for him to do so, the motions of your plan sparked to life as if they had a mind of their own. “Azzy wait-” your hand crept up, and you grasped his wrist, to the best extent that you could, actually holding a part of him really put into perspective just how much larger he was compared to you as your digits barely even wrapped around one of the sides. He screeched to a halt in record time, both his palm and fingers left your side much to your chagrin, nearly snatching his hand out of your light grip, “Have you changed your mind?” He questioned softly with an understanding lilt flowing through his tone, however, you shook your head, and you sat up more properly on the mattress so that you could turn and swing your legs over to the edge of the bed like how you were prior, and your softened eyes flickered up to his adorably confused and concerned face, he even gave his head a slow tilt to one side as if he were a large puppy. “No, no not at all, but…” you soothingly cooed whilst you leaned forward and in time, the alien moved back just a step or two, to make sure he wasn’t crowding you. You released your grip on his wrist and now, it was your turn for your own private little show when your eyes started at the top of his broad chest and in a deliberate crawl down the contours of his sculpted body and internally, you were thanking your lucky stars for the thin piece of under armor that Azrael worse ever so casually, its fabric hugged around his defined torso, outlining every little ridge of his trained, bulging muscles, it left little to the imagination. “You did so much for me tonight, and, I know you’re gonna like, disagree, but you didn’t have to,” and just as you predicted, his lips parted to start the said disagreement, until, it was replaced with a quiet, husk of a gasp tip-toed out instead, thanks to your hand laying palm down onto his chest, and in a slow-moving, downward stroke, you dragged your palm lower and lower across the length of his torso, the tips of your digits rising when they crossed over the ridges of his defined body and the risen skin of a scattering of deep-set scars, shielded away from your gaze. Then you felt it, where his top met his bottom armor, seemingly blended in together to seem conjoined as one full piece only to be disproven when your fingers curled over the edge of his pants and nudged rim down ever so slightly, enough for your intruding eyes to sinfully sneak a peek at the thick-haired base of whatever he had down there. That was the thing about Azrael, with him being an alien, your imaginations were the limits of picturing just exactly what he had hidden down there, and you had your excitement of finally seeing the grand reveal to blame for when your thighs lightly pressed against one another. “(Name)...” Azrael mumbled out, his accented voice dangerously low, a dusting of a blue blush sprinkled across his cheeks, the temptation to move his hand to yours to lead it off of him so that he can fully take care of you over the other echoed throughout his mind, and at first, his hand almost carried it out, the tips of his sharpened claws drew close enough to lightly prick and scrape against the skin of your wrist, but for once, you were faster than him. Craning your head forward, your lips brushed against his abdomen in a chaste peck, and the tiny gesture it was, was enough to send his hand into a skidding stop, his eyes went wide, almost as if all four were threatening to pop out of his skull, “So now,” you started again, whispering against blue skin, your lips sensually walked down his abdomen, leaving a trail of kisses in your wake, some of them were quick that emitted a sense of urgency to move onto the next while some of the others you held down for a few extra moments or so, so when your lips broke the lip-lock, the shiver that rushed through his body was more pleasurably intense than the last jolt ending it’s electrifying current through his senses. “I wanna do something for you. You’re such a sweetheart, Azzy, it’s only fair that I return the favor and take care of you this time,” The feeling of thick strands of snowy blue tresses brushing up against your jawline in light tickles, your eyes flickered down, studying the thickly haired base of his privates before continuing, this time, your unused hand that resided on one of his inner thighs climbed up further and further in between his legs, “You, mmhf, you do not have to do that f-for me, little one, it is the Alpha’s job after all to-hnh!~” His words were suddenly cut off with a shuddering groan when your hand moved up and placed itself onto his sack, and with slow, groping squeezes with your fingers rubbing over him, your lips attacked the base of his privates with a numerous amount of kisses through the thick fur like hair, your eyes pried open and they flicked up towards his face, doused in a deep shade of blue that spread so far across his face, it reached the tips of his pointed ears that even twitched a few times with growing excitement. All four of his eyes were screwed tight, and his hand that hung at his side had shot up and clasped over his mouth as if to silence any fleeting moans that dared to escape his lips, however, that tactic wasn’t too successful in stopping every noise that emitted from him since in the deep pit of his chest, chuffing noises rumbled throughout his body and vibrated against his padded palm, and it appeared as though he was silently cursing those purring noises since every time one crept out from in between his lips, his already closed eyes would tighten more and even his fingers gripped at his mouth and jaw harder too. With your head lowered so far your lips tantalizingly close to where you were so determined to cover in kisses and licks and suck, you certainly weren’t prepared for what you witnessed. In the corner of your eye, your head leaned back enough to drink up the sight of the tent in his pants growing right in front of you, it was to be expected, and hoped for, that he was truly enjoying what you were giving him and if it wasn’t, you were damned sure to find something that he’d love more than anything while you two were like this while you had him. You just had to. Your hand clenched the front of his pants again, preparing to tug the rest of the fabric again, however, the tent grew more, and more, and more, until the tightening thin armor expanded to such a tight bulge, the fabric snapped, and his length sprung out from its suffocating cloth imprisonment and you didn’t know really what to say at first as you sat there, gawking at the unusual sight with a dropped jaw and wide eyes and, as if history repeated itself, you found yourself at a lost for words until your stuttering lips managed to conjure something up. “...holy shit.”  You marveled. His length was anything but the norm that you’ve seen or have been used to. The shape of it alone was the biggest difference, it wasn't human, at all, it was a long, thick, tentacle-like shape that had a thick base and as your eyes traveled further up to the tip, you noted how it started wide and thick but slimmed down until the head was a point, and along the length and around the girth of it all, it was covered with small spines, no bigger than a thumbnail but still, their quantity overruled the size easily, they were everywhere except the tip since there wasn’t that much space at the thin head, but, they were heavily condensed around the the third and final part, a swollen knot that throbbed a few times now that he was fully erect and excited and in tune with each throb of his knot, the tentacle part wriggled deliberately, almost as if it were hypnotizing you to lean forward with your mouth as agape as it is now and swallow around the shaft. “Is, is problem?” Azrael’s trembling voice was like a hook, line, and sinker since it pulled you out of your stunned bewilderment. Blinking profusely with a shake of your head to top it off, your eyes snapped up onto his panting, flushed face and just before any worry attempted to leak through the lusty haze that was spreading heavily through him, you shook your head. “N-No! I’m just, s-surprised! I, Azzy you have, A LOT, down here-” “...is too big?” “It’s fucking HUGE, but that’s not what I meant-” Your still hand rested on your thigh and your fingers clenched tighter into its fist as you stared, you really didn’t have any idea on how to start with something like this, sure, you’ve given oral to past partners, even the most recent one, but Azrael was different. Not only has he never, ever, experienced something like this, but because this was Azrael, the place in your heart that he happily took over was major, he mattered more to you than you probably both ever realized, so you wanted to make this perfect, better than just enjoyable, you wanted this big alien man to get weak in the knees and need to sit down next to you after he was done or, if you really knew what you were doing with just the type of equipment he had, maybe even in the middle of it, so, with a deep breath through your mouth and out through your nostrils, your hand shot up to his length and your hand coiled around the base of it, right above the knot and you gasped lightly to yourself while a quiet snarling groan rumbled through his chest. Just barely, did the tips of your finger graze the edge of your palm, at least your hand actually managed to wrap around something of his, even if it wasn’t enough. Your hand inched up, the spines underneath your hand brushed up against your palm, they flared up and down ever so lightly in time with the twitches and throbs of his shaft, the sensation was odd, yes, but definitely not tempting. Your hand continued, squeezing around his shaft, you stroked all the way up to his tip in a slow, smooth, glide, the spines flexing out only to relax again and when your hand ended it’s test run at his tip, your thumb pressed down onto the leaking slit to tease the opening in small circles, and with each rotation, thick, warm, and surprisingly sweet-smelling precum began to impatiently seep out of his tip, coating your digit steadily and you were only more surprised when you pushed your hand back down in another pump and it milked more of his pre to steadily drip out of his tip and leak out onto his shaft and even have droplets push out over the edge of the slit and drip down onto the floor beneath the both of you. “L-Little one your, your hand is already plenty, rest, mmhmf, rest your body, you do not have to do more~” Azrael husked out, his eyes fought to stay open, and through blurry lenses, he gazed down at you. His hands resided at his sides, and only momentarily did one of them inch up and forward towards you and at first, glancing at it in the corner of your eye, you naturally assumed that it was him possibly attempting to thwart your actions again, but with how his held out hand twitched and his digits trembled halfway there, it wasn’t like he was trying to stop you, it was almost as if he weren’t sure if he should put a hand on you again, like he was worried if he grabbed you too hard or placed it in the wrong spot while you were like this, it’d hurt you, so, with another breath, his hand retracted and fell back to his side again. Witnessing this, your eyes traveled back up to his flushed face and you let a smile dance onto your lips, “Do you trust me, Azrael?” You questioned and, yes, at first, you attempted to let a flirtatious lilt coat those words to make it sound more enticing, but, you truly wanted to know, even if him letting you do this was evidence enough that he did since he could very easily stop you in a number of ways, ones more violent than the last, still, it probably eased both of your racing minds and thoughts to have consent audibly said instead of just out in the open like this. After a few moments of catching his panting breath, a thin grin pulled onto his lips and he nodded gently down at you, his multiple eyes tender and true, “I trust you, little one, I-I know you would never do me wrong in something as passionate as this, and you, mhmf, you have my word with the Gods as my witnesses, you may trust me too.”

“...god how do you exist, you’re, such a sweetheart, Azzy, I swear…~” You giggled quietly, and continued when he shrugged as a little joke, as if he didn’t know, but after glancing back up at his face, and how he stared down at you with such a loving sensation pouring from all four of his darkened orbs, you have no idea how you manage to wrangle your internal thoughts of leaning up or pulling him down to your level to kiss him where you should have willed yourself to do beforehand when you were up there, every ounce of your body wanted to just slam your lips against his in a deep kiss, to feel him kissing back with all of the experience and courage that he could offer, and have his large hands grasp at your hips and rear to keep you pinned against his broad, strong chest so the kiss wouldn’t be broken too soon, but, that would have to be saved for another time. You were already down here like this, right where your desire for him burned so brightly, if you were going to do this, it was now or you’d never be standing on this precipice of courage ever again. Your (eye color) orbs drifted back down to his twitching, awaiting length, the bizarre sight of his cock wriggling up and down or side to side with the smallest of moments intrigued you, you had your hand to planted firmly around his base as much as you could hold while your free hand propped up against the upper part of his thigh, close to his hip, to give yourself a steady form of balance in case you found yourself getting lost in this since his sweet-smelling aroma was invading your nostrils relentlessly, and the delicious scents imprinted themselves onto your mind with little effort and it triggered your mouth to even salivate more and it seemed to act as a good sign for what you just had planned since your tongue hung out of your mouth to swipe over your lips in a slow-moving lick. You craned your head forward, the pointed tip of his cock rested against your plump bottom lip and in between the both of them, the tip of your tongue peeked through and it swiped against the dripping head in a testing lick, as if you were either showing Azrael how this would work or if you were giving yourself just a taste of his seed and seeing if your nose was deceiving your tongue. Azrael’s sharp teeth gritted, you could hear the sharpened bones clicking lightly against each other, and he sucked in a sharp breath through the small gaps, the hand that masked over his mouth and nose released him and started to rub down from the side of his neck, to his chest, and finally it dropped down to his side again, he grasped the hem of his shirt and his claws nearly tore into the thin, ocean-blue fabric. If he was like this after just one tiny lick, now, you found more of that confidence peering through your worry and doubt.

“Lemme take care of you, Azzy…~” You breathed out intentionally against the sensitive flesh of his cock, the tentacle-like appendage twitched in a wriggling jump while Azrael husked out a quiet groan to himself. Your mouth cracked open, the tip of his length snaked its way into your mouth, and as you pushed your head further and further down the inches, the exotic feelings and tastes overwhelmed you. The copious amount of pre spilling out of his tip and staining the back of your throat and tongue with the spines surrounding his shaft flared out and brushed against the roof of your mouth and the top of your flattened tongue, however, this time, they didn’t relax and go back down, it was like the spines were doing their unwritten and unspoken duty in keeping his cock sheathed far down your throat and mouth, and it was at that epiphany that you were thanking your shit ex for helping you out with something like this now. You pushed yourself more, and more, until, your lips halted at the top of his swollen knot, you peered at it, and as much as you would try maybe another time, today was not the day to risk a broken jaw trying to unhinge it to try and swallow his whole length, if anything, you were more impressed with how far you got on your first attempt. Azrael though, he was another story, he had the worry of being too big in more than one ways pierce at his psyche, he had question after question after question nervously wracking through his brain to the point where he didn’t know which one to ask first, if he had to do something, if you could take him, were you changing your mind at all, just to name a few and while, he was enjoying himself, more than he thought or imagined, your sound well-being came first overall. His hand fumbled with the crinkled hem of his shirt, if he was going to place it on you, now would be the most obvious time. So, with a light huff through his nose, his hand raised and much to your surprise, he planted it on the top of your head where his claws brushed through (hair color) tresses, petting the top of your head and your scalp gingerly, “Are you, mmhmf, doing...whatever it is you’re doing good, still, (name?) Don’t you, need to breathe, should I, mmf, sit down, pull back, I-” With a lift of your hand, you planted it onto his hip and it silenced his words, four blackened eyes met yours and with a watery wink and a muffled smile, you pulled your head back, smoothly, your tongue threading through the gaps in between his spines and it dragged across the bottom of his shaft, and just before his entire length left your mouth, you hurriedly slammed your head back down to his knot. Azrael’s head shot back, pulling a long, deep groan, deep from within the alien’s chest. You repeated this process a few times, sliding his cock almost all of the way out of your throat only to quickly swallow it down again until you found a steady, rhythmic pace to set for yourself, even your hand that was clamped around his base to hold his twitching length at the ready had replaced itself onto his other hip, and you gripped at him, fingers digging into blue skin, not enough to break the surface of it, not even in the silence, but mayhaps enough to cause a speckling of bruises to pop up later for him to be reminded of just what happened tonight. Your head bobbed up and down, your tongue danced around his shaft, grinding up against the sides of it and you did attempt a few times to swirl it completely around his thick shaft to no avail, at certain parts, so you made sure to give the poised spines extra attention by letting the tip of the muscle flick across a couple of specific ones. You swallowed around him, the constricting walls of your throat enveloped around his cock, massaging the tip and shaft. “Mmmhff~ Nnnhhff~ L-Little one, by the Gods themselves, your mouth, your throat~ So warm, so w-wet~ Tight~ It’s, is too much~ T-The fact that you, you humans do this, I-hnh-I won’t last long with, hhnff, with your skills~” The rest of Azrael’s words melted into his native tongue and while you could make out some words here and there, the rest almost sounded like complete lust-driven gibberish. He had leaned over you, his knees buckled like you had hoped, not enough to make him fall, but enough to make him not stand up straight anymore, and he had the edge of the bed to act as his savior to catch him if he did, and his hand that rested on the top of you head had inched to the back of it, and you could have sworn that you felt the faintest urging push of your head to swallow him down again. One of your hands had inched down from his side, it slid down the dip in between his crotch and thigh, and you cupped his sack again, your palm groping and rubbing against him, and you felt it, that tension inside of him starting to tighten further inside of him, he was getting close, it was sooner than you thought but again, this was all new territory for someone as battle-ridden as him, and you felt a sense of pride shimmer inside of you that you were the first person ever to do this to him, and with how he was, probably the only one too. You hollowed out your cheeks by sucking harder around him, and your head bobbed up and down his length faster than before, the quiet slurping that ghosted out from your lips was much more audible now, and the tip of his cock slammed against the back of your throat, muffled whines rattled through your body and shot through his length with gags and whimpers fluttering in between the latter and it didn’t take too much, maybe 2 or 3 more fast pumps of your head when a loud, ear-piercing, animalistic roar of pleasure ripped through Azrael’s body and shot out of his mouth. Wave after wave after wave of white hot pleasure crashed over his body when his orgasm rushed over him. His seed spurted out of his tip in thick, warm ropes, and with each pump, his hips trembled and bucked into your awaiting mouth and throat, his hot cum cascading down your throat in a sweet-tasting waterfall. His eyes were glued tight, staggering, trembling groans with the hint of growls rumbling through his body, his hand forced itself to release your strands and almost instantly, he forced his eyes to pry open to stare at his open palm and claws, checking to see if he tore anything out and with relief, even more so when he lazily inspected the back of your head and saw no imperfections, he stepped back gently, his hips relaxing and pulling back, his softened cock fled from your mouth and throat, strands of your saliva stretched out and connected your lips and his length together until you broke by licking your lips, and without it being buried so far down your throat, the air flew down into your lungs in a welcomed, deep gasp before you panted out heavily. “How…” your voice was hoarse, with a lick of your lips and a clearing of your throat in the form of a soft cough, you started again. “How was that?” You panted.

The alien stood back up straight, his pants were hiked back up and adjusted the way they were set before all the while panting breaths wracked through his body, making his chest heave. Strands of his pastel blue hair stuck to his forehead with the help of the sheen of sweat that coated his skin up there, “That was...if that was your throat alone, then the Gods have certainly blessed whoever will, hnn, be your mate, yes?” He rasped, “You don’t think it’ll be you?” You questioned back, and surprisingly, he chuckled tiredly through the catching of his breath. “A Goddess such as yourself should not have to settle on the first man who treats her with kindness, I am simply doing what should be done by the one you use to spend the rest of their life with you, what that excuse of a man should have done,” man, his culture was something else. It really did take you a moment or so that process really what he just pointed out, that the two of you doing this tonight, to him, because of what he’s been taught and brought up to, this could all mean nothing if you met something literally tomorrow and decided to stay with them for, forever, instead of him.

And he’d be okay with it. Your eyes softened, “Azzy-” His hands reached down and much like before, he hoisted your legs up and back over onto the mattress and adjusted you so that you laid comfortably against the slab before grabbing the edge of your blanket and pulling it up and over you to drape it across your still warm and humming body, “Now, you should be more than tired, yes? Talk to me later today if you wish, but for now, little one, I must see you in your dreams, hm? Greet me there with kindness, (name), pleasant night.” With one more kiss to the middle of your forehead, he leaned back up to his towering height, his eyes half-lidded and fixated on your face, a warm smile played at his lips before giving you one more final nod, and he turned around, you stared at his sculpted back, the words were at your lips again, but this time, it was too late, the door opened and Azrael stepped out, but, not before giving you one more tender, true smile and even a little wave with his fingers, and the door closed.

“...I love you, Azzy.” The words found their way on the path out of your mouth after all.

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 4, chapter 6

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Content warnings: recounting past trauma

Blaise and Tyrael were still gone. Apparently the destruction of this soulstone was more complicated somehow. Morgan had moved from the work bench to one of the cots in the next room, propped up by pillows in a way that didn't trouble his injury too much, practically swimming in a light cotton tunic that Halbu had provided to replace his own ruined shirt. He was still feeling a little unsteady from the whole ordeal - not the battle, which had gone surprisingly well. What had happened afterward was what troubled him. The nightmares were one thing, to be expected. He barely even remembered having them sometimes. But to be pulled into one while waking was something else entirely, and it was concerning. He was trying to believe it was just a side effect of Diablo's influence. That was the most likely explanation, but he couldn't shake the nagging doubt. What if it wasn't? What if it could happen again at any time? He would have to pursue additional training, just to be sure of himself. Priests had to hold themselves to higher standards than what he'd been achieving recently.

Halbu had begun working on a new armour piece for him. A brigandine this time, more flexible and puncture-resistant than the leather cuirass had been, but likely to be heavier. He'd insisted, despite Morgan's protests, and was whistling as he worked. The whistling and the hammering echoed through the fortress, breathing a sense of life into the otherwise still halls. Morgan supposed Halbu had good enough reason to be cheerful, given their victory over Diablo. Cain was busying himself with a small pile of books he'd borrowed from Jamella's collection while she processed some ingredients with a mortar and pestle at an auxiliary work table. She seemed annoyed to be working in this atypical setup, given that the bulk of her equipment was in the other room, but she was insistent about keeping an eye on Morgan.

She had been glancing over at him frequently, frowning. Something seemed to be bothering her. She finally broke her silence when she caught him looking back. "I didn't expect you to have such a resistance to my potion," she said. He still appreciated her straightforwardness, though he didn't care much for the direction of the conversation. "I've never seen it have so little effect. How exactly did your tolerance get so high?"

Morgan didn't really want to talk about it, but she was an emissary of the Light. He was duty-bound to assist her in every way possible, at least while the Balance was still compromised. And Baal was still unaccounted for.

"I was tortured. By a sect of claw vipers. Acolytes of Duriel."

"Oh? Kindly elaborate."

"They pushed me to the brink of death, then pulled me back with healing potion to do it again." Morgan hoped that level of detail would suffice. It was not at all pleasant to reflect on, especially not after whatever that lapse had been. "Based on the taste, I would guess their formulation was very close to yours."

"You don't build a tolerance like that from a little torture. Have you ever used it recreationally, outside of that experience? Afterwards, perhaps? It's not uncommon. I'm not here to pass judgment, I just want to know. So I can treat other champions accordingly if they have a similar issue."

"No, never like that." He couldn't imagine ever wanting to consume it on purpose. He'd already explained that the tolerance had been caused by - oh, perhaps he hadn't been quite explicit enough. "It was dozens. Of times. Not just the once."

Jamella's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Really? Dozens."

Morgan rubbed his face. He wished this conversation could be over, but he couldn't just end it. In case future champions should have a similar issue. He hoped, for their sake, they did not.

"Yes. You've seen the state of my skin. The scarring is all from that experience."

"Two dozen? More?"

"More. I was not keeping a precise tally," he added, hoping to stem this particular branch of inquiry. He wanted to think about anything else.

Jamella gave him a cool stare. "Why so much? I know Duriel's chosen find torture to be entertaining, but that seems excessive even for them."

Morgan laced his fingers together in his lap. "Blaise and I fought Andariel, before that. I was injured during that battle, and it never fully healed. They were... fascinated by that injury."

"You were marked by Andariel? Well, that would explain it. Her surviving victims experience a permanent amplification of pain that would make you an attractive target for her brother's flock." Jamella tipped her head thoughtfully. "Her venom is physically aggressive as well - that's what was wrong with your arm, isn't it? The damage you mentioned you couldn't repair?"

Morgan nodded, the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck. He'd been able to avoid discussing the lingering effects of Andariel's venom until now, but of course Jamella would be knowledgeable in these things. It was a small mercy Blaise wasn't there to hear him admit just how weak he really was, how he struggled constantly next to her effortless strength.

"I see. And how much of their potion did they give you at a time?"

"For the first... while, it was, ah. Just. Cupfuls." The words weren't coming easily. "Less than... what you gave me earlier. About a ghyll. I think."

"They worked up to larger amounts, then?"

"No, not... worked up." Morgan ran a hand through his hair. Why was this so difficult? It was just something that had happened, a set of facts he could relay. "I tried to... refuse. The potion. After a time. They... began drowning me in it, then. To prevent that." Tears blurred his vision. He wiped at his eyes, frustrated. It wasn't always easy to manage his emotions, but it was usually easier than this. "I don't know how many, how much-" The lump in his throat prevented him from saying any more.

Jamella opened her mouth to continue her questioning, but Cain had come over to lay a hand on her shoulder. "I think that's enough for now. We aren't going anywhere, are we?" He smiled disarmingly. She grunted, turning back to her work. Cain approached Morgan, seating himself by the bedside. Morgan avoided the other man's gaze. He hated losing his composure like this. It was bad enough being so physically feeble, he didn't need anyone to witness his emotional weakness on top of it. Some of the most basic training for priests of Rathma was for emotional control, and he just couldn't stop failing at it. At least he would have time to revisit that training yet again as he waited for his body to heal.

"You've been through quite a lot, young man." Cain's voice was reassuring, kindly. It didn't help. Morgan wasn't looking for sympathy or pity, he just wanted to be able to close the wounds in his mind. Talking about them, even just thinking about them, only served to pick at the scabs.

"We all have," he replied. The deflection was almost automatic. "The first thing I did when we met was to bury seven of your friends."

"I still think perhaps you've suffered the worst out of us, my friend."

"Personal suffering is inconsequential in service to the Balance," Morgan recited. Of course the suffering of others should be minimized where possible, but priests of Rathma had to hold themselves to a different standard. All this time, and he still couldn't do his Order justice. It was pathetic.

"Ah, is that why you rarely speak of what troubles you? I don't believe I've heard you complain even once since we began traveling together."

Morgan looked over at Cain. The old man's face was somehow both concerned and blandly interested, no indication that he was judging or mocking. Morgan looked away again. "I prefer not to dwell on those things," he said carefully. There was no need to bother anyone else with his... difficulties. What if they found it to be too much trouble to deal with? No, he absolutely could not take that risk.

That was the thing Diablo had discovered when he'd reached into his mind to pluck out his deepest fear. What the demon ought to have found was the tipping of the Balance, the destruction that would be done to humanity by either side seizing control, the thing his Order was charged with preventing. And that would be a terrible thing, to be sure, but it was not what Diablo had scented out as his worst fear. No, the demon lord had pried out something much smaller, more personal. What he had unearthed was the idea - the knowledge - that these friendships Morgan had managed to cultivate somehow, so rare and precious, could easily be destroyed if he were to say or do the wrong thing at the wrong time. The thought was unbearable, the danger ever-present. He knew in his heart that he was a burden, so he had to make that burden as light as possible for them to bear.

"Some burdens," Cain said as though reading his thoughts, "are easier to carry when their weight is shared."

"It is not easy to bear the weight of another. I can carry my own well enough."

"So you can, friend. So you can. Just remember, you don't always have to."

He was wrong, of course, but the sentiment was well-intentioned. "Thank you." Morgan waited a beat to see if Cain would say anything further on the matter. He did not, which meant it was time to change the subject. "What is it you've been studying?"

Cain brightened. "What do you know of the crusaders of Zakarum?"

"Little enough. They call themselves Paladins, do they not?"

"Ah, yes, actually, they are two distinctly different orders sprung from the same root." Cain spoke at length of the differences and similarities between the two sects, and Morgan did his best to pay attention. But soon enough he found his eyelids growing heavy, and Cain very kindly helped him back into a more horizontal position. Exhaustion caught up with him quickly, and he slept.

[creativeskullcreations]

Outside chapter 20: Hosts, Awaken

Whoops, Hosts are awake and everyone's starting to group up. And Scout's not as good of an actress as she thinks. Even if she'd been better at controlling her Host, she may never have been able to really join the Handeemen...

And we also see a look at Will's really like. He hides it well, with medication and acting, but what happened when he was a child scarred him mentally. Or maybe it didn't...

Will came to while horizontal, muffled voices above him as he struggled his way back to consciousness. He curled his left hand into a fist, faintly startled when he found he couldn't feel his right hand. He ignored it, however, as the voices began to get clearer.

"-and it is no trouble at all to remove you!" Someone, a woman, was saying. "So stay in line and remember to rhyme!"

"Yes ma'am." A younger sounding voice to the right mumbled. It wasn't in rhyme, but the first voice accepted the answer.

"Excellent! Now to prepare your Host for orientation! With four at once, maybe it can be a competition." She sounded excited at the prospect, even as Will's blood ran cold. There wasn't an answer, but he could vaguely feel his arm lower and rest against the cold metal table. Something distinctly Scout-shaped laid across his stomach, and it took everything he had to keep his body relaxed.

Footsteps, first going away and then approaching his head. A cool rubber glove pressed almost gently against his chin, tilting his head up. Something tiny, cold, and sharp pressed against his mouth-

Will stared up into the eyes of a startled Riley Ruckus, free hand gripping her arm like a vice as a needle fell beside his throat. For one, infinitely long second, nobody moved. And then Riley's Host reacted as Will slipped his other hand out of his Puppet and grabbed at her throat.

He missed, grabbing her shoulder instead as he rolled off the table, masked Host making a mad grab for where he'd been laying. The smaller puppet fell to the floor as he stood up, giving a deft twist-and-tug that tore the wooded arm apart at the elbow. He tossed it aside as a screech of pain rang out, then dodged as she charged at him.

The Host was clunky, and Will wondered why they even bothered with them when he knew Scout was more agile than that. He watched as they almost tripped over the table, then slammed the Host down onto it. The whole fight took maybe fifteen seconds, if he was being generous.

It took some creativity, and climbing on top of them, but he managed to get both Riley and her Host strapped awkwardly onto the metal slab. Watching her struggle to get free, all he felt was cold rage, the kind he hadn't felt in a long time. A glance around the room showed a wide variety of medical and power tools. One of which was a saw that he picked up.

"Scout told me you liked taking people apart." He told her, voice low and dark. He stepped forward and pinned her still-whole arm down, pulling off her glove and pushing up the sleeve of her lab coat. "I like taking stupidly arrogant Puppets apart." He went to make a move, but paused. He picked up the discarded glove and forced it into her mouth, then picked the bone saw back up.

Canon listened to the muffled screams and cries from where she lay under the table, staring blankly as her mind filled with fear. Soon there was a dull thunk of wood hitting metal, and the screams stopped even as the sawing noise continued. A minute later she watched as Riley's freshly removed arm hit the floor and was kicked away under a metal cabinet. She thought about following it, but felt frozen in place.

The choice was taken from her when her Host leaned down and stared at her. She stared back, neither of them blinking. Eventually he sighed, and reached to pick her up with a surprising gentleness.

"Come on, let's go find the others." He told her quietly, almost cradling her against his chest as he walked out of the lab. "They can't be too far away."

She hoped they never found the others.

-----

Sammy did not like being sober. He liked it even less when carting around a loudmouthed brat with anger issues. And she did. Not. Shut. Up.

"Host! Host! Look. At. Me! Hey! Hey, Host!" He tightened his grip and once again looked for something to tie her up and gag her with. Nope, still nothing. "Hoooooooost!"

"I have a fucking name!" He finally snapped. "And it is not 'Host'!"

"And I don't fucking care." She glared up at him, almost daring him to do something about it.

Sammy groaned. "I need some more weed..." He moaned quietly as he picked his way through the rubble. He would also like nothing more than to chuck the little annoyance away but every time he'd tried he found he just... couldn't.

'Why can't I just be rid of this thing?!' He wondered. 'Maybe it's what made Stacy keep Scout, even though she hates puppets and dolls. I never saw her treat one with such care, not since we were little kids...'

He was brought out of his thoughts by soft fists beating on his arm, and he glared down at the tiny red head. "What now?" He asked, irritated.

She said nothing, just pointed ahead of them. When he looked up, he saw a hulking monster with a yellow sock on one hand. For a heartbeat, nobody moved. And then it charged at them.

"SHIT!" He screeched as he turned and ran down a side corridor. The thing was hot on his heels, and he had no clue how to lose it.

"In there! Gogogogogo!" He turned into the room the Puppet indicated and slammed the door shut behind him, tipping over a nearby shelve to keep it closed. He backed away as the thing banged and smashed against the door, nearly breaking it from the force.

"Holy shit..." He sank to the floor, dropping the Puppet and leaning forward to dry heave. She tugged on his sleeve, pointing towards a door on the opposite end of the room.

"What the hell are you doing?! We've gotta get out of here! Now!"

"Hold on!" He gasped. "I need a minute..."

"We don't have a minute!" A fist smashed through the door, and Sammy scrambled back to his feet. He snatched the Puppet and sprinted out the other door as the monster made it's way into the room, tripping over the shelves. In an instant it was on his ass again, chasing him deeper into the warehouse while his Puppet tried to guide him through the maze like halls.

It was all for naught, however, as he came upon a dead end with a door that was locked.

"Nononono" he chanted as he tried to force it open. The knob wouldn't even turn, however, and he could hear the thing getting closer. Giving up on escape he searched for a weapon, finding a fire axe on a wall. Flinging his Puppet up onto a nearby stack of boxes, he yanked the thing off the wall and turned to face his death.

He raised the weapon over his head, and the door next to him flung open as six loud gunshots rang out. Two of them hit the monster, and it fell dead immediately. Sammy turned to see his savior, and cried out in joy.

"Stacy!" He dropped the axe and pulled her into a hug. "Holy shit thank God, Satan, and everybody else! I thought I was dead!"

His poor cousin looked stressed beyond belief as she laughed out a sigh. "N-no problem." She gave him an awkward pat before he finally released her and grabbed the blue puppet down from the boxes. He saw Stacy's face light up when she spotted the thing, which was odd cause she didn't even look like Scout.

Come to think of it, Stacy was moving weird, too. Like she wasn't used to walking. And she was holding the gun wrong. And her eyes...

He leaned in close to her face, and she stared back in confusion until he spotted what was wrong.

"Your eyes are yellow!" He shouted. "You're Scout!"

"What?! No, shut up!" She tried to cover his mouth, but he dodged her attempts as the Puppet stared up at her.

"Holy shit." She muttered looking between Stacy and Sammy. "Can I do that?"

"No! No you can't don't even try, Bit!" She snapped, and Sammy pointed at her in victory.

"You know it's name! You have to be Scout!" Sammy declared triumphantly, and she finally gave in.

"Fine, yeah, I'm Scout. Stacy's... Stacy's with Mortimer and they're planning something. We need to get everyone out of here! Now!"

"Yeah okay just stop pointing that thing at me." He redirected the gun, then just pulled it out of her hand. "Actually do you have more ammo for this thing? I could use this."

Wordlessly, she pulled a clip out of her pocket and handed it to him. He stared down at it. "... This is the wrong kind of clip."

A few minutes of frantic sorting later and Sammy had two more clips to the pistol. The rest were for other guns that Scout had left behind. His possessed cousin held the fire axe in her hands, as he figured that was better for her to use than the gun. His Puppet, Bit, had settled into the hood of his hoodie and seemed content to stay there.

Scout, meanwhile, had pulled the hood of Stacy's hoodie up to try and hide her eyes, having pulled some hair into her face as well. It didn't hide them completely, but so long as nobody looked too hard her eyes looked green enough. It would at least fool the others for a while.

As she led the way, Sammy took note of her scratching her metal fingers on her flesh arm. Counting back, he wondered when Stacy had last taken her meds. He decided it didn't matter, and sped up enough to walk beside Scout, grabbing her hand in his. Her other hand was holding the axe, so he felt confident she couldn't scratch like that.

She seemed confused, but brushed it off and quickly pulled him down a hallway. They had to find the others, or everyone would be doomed.

-----

Bonzai did not like that his Host was Awake. He especially didn't like that he was being carted around in a box with Stitch, though at least it had given him a chance to untie her. Too bad the box was sealed so they couldn't Jump out, unless they wanted to go straight up.

Above them, their Hosts were talking quietly, but not looking at them specifically. The box was being held by Stitch's Host. 'Good.' Bonzai gathered himself up and aimed. 'That means the box won't drop.sw'

One, two, three, four, on the fifth try he Jumped onto his Host's head, flopping down over is eyes and grabbing blindly anywhere he could. The Host freaked out, yelling and trying to pull him off it's face. Bonzai resisted, though, and instead bit down as hard as he could through the Host's nose.

Sadly for him, blunt, fabric covered teeth are useless against a fully grown human. Mason wasn't even scratched as he ripped the apparently feral Puppet off.

Though tempted to just fling him back into the box as hard as he could, the Host instead held onto the little guy. Held securely in his arms, all Bonzai could do was struggle uselessly. Taking the cue, the other Host grabbed Stitch out too, discarding the box with a huff.

"Now how are we supposed to fight?" She asked, only half sarcastic.

"We aren't supposed to fight, Lisa! It's just a quick in-and-out to get Scout back." He hissed, and Bonzai stopped his escape attempts to listen.

"I know that, but what if we come across something we can't outrun?" She sounded worried, and Bonzai didn't have to wonder why. If they were caught, Riley would take them all apart to find out why the Hosts woke up.

"Then... then we hide. Until it loses interest or gets distracted or something." He told her. "Or until Will finds us. He does this kind of thing all the time, so he knows how to handle it." He spoke with confidence, but the other Host, Lisa, didn't seem convinced.

"I don't know Mace. Every job he's done was, like, Scooby Doo shit almost." She shrugged. "I just don't know how much help he's gonna be for this."

"You just don't know him like I do, Leese. Trust me, you get William M. Carson pissed off and nothing can stand in his way. It is beautiful and terrifying all at once." A pause, as he considered. "I once saw him calmly go up to a doctor and stab her in the eye because she didn't take what he was telling her seriously. That got him solitary for a week. And new meds."

Well, that sounded horrific, and Bonzai found himself shrinking back at the words. Whoever this Will guy was the Puppet wanted him to stay far away from him and his sisters. Though, from the sound of it, he'd already been around Scout.

'Well doesn't this day just keep on getting better and better?' He huffed out a sigh, bracing his cheek against one hand. He took notice of Stitch, and how gently her Host was holding her. She still looked just as scared as she had earlier, though now Bonzai wasn't as worried about her. 'I hope the others are doing better with their Hosts. I think mine and Stitch's are bound for Riley's table after this.'

[hotpinkrathian]

Scars

(Kyalin) i know I never write anything else even tho my header is catradora it’s an addiction okay

Trigger warning: sexual abuse

Katara remembered the day her daughter came home from her journey across the world. Despite the fact that her father had passed Kya smiled, like she always did. There was a lot of Aang in her. But Katara remembered seeing something, behind her smiles and words of kind ness. There was hurt there, there was something beyond her bubbly personality and obnoxious grins. There was pain. Katara never asked, and Kya never told. Truthfully Katara didn’t know how to handle something like this, and she wished that she wouldn’t have to. She never confessed her concern to Aang, which she regretted, but she had a feeling that he knew as well. Aang was good at that. When Kya left to Republic city to see her brother she remembered very vividly what her daughter had said to her.

“I’ll be careful mom, I’m okay.” And Katara was happy with that. It was enough, Kya was okay. Or at least she thought, or wanted to think.

———————————————————————

“Back in Republic city so soon?” Lin smirked as Kya departed off the boat.

“Lin it’s been three months.”

“Which is three years shorter than last time.” Kya stuck out her tongue and Lin took the bag out of her hand, swinging it over her shoulder.

“My dear brother couldn’t make it to see me arrive?”

“You know how he is. His new passion project has him occupied.”

“Well hopefully this means the next week will be somewhat relaxing.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, Rohan’s been crawling.” Kya stopped and turned to face Lin, shock and dissapoimtment on her face.

“Crawling?! I write to Tenzin all the time he always says the same thing: things are good, normal. When his youngest is crawling?! I missed it?”

“You saw the other three,” Lin attempted a smile. Kya frowned, crossing her arms and facing away.

“Still...” Lin subconsciously put her hand on Kya’s back. Rubbing it to comfort her.

“Come on,” Lin said, “let’s get you settled before Tenzin becomes unoccupied. Kya smiled and followed Lin up the steps to the air temple.

———————————————————————

Lin opened the door for Kya and let her in, allowing the white haired girl to lead the way. Lin knew the temple well enough, and certainly the path to Kya’s room, but she allowed the water bender to lead the way. Kya pushed open the door to the bare room, sighing when she stepped in and Lin set the bag on the ground.

“Same as always,” Kya whispered, walking over to stroke the tightly made bed. Lin watched as Kya traces the room, running her hand or a single finger over the furniture, and looking at it absently. Lin wondered what was going on in her head. Lin mustered the courage to go over to her as she faces the window, the sun had just began to set and the orange light lit up the room brilliantly. Not to mention how it illuminated Kya who was already so beautiful. Lin put an arm around Kya’s waist, and to her surprise Kya flinched.

“What’s wrong?” Lin asked. She knew Kya had a sensitive spot there, and few scars, but she had never told Lin how she got them.

“Nothing, just a sensitive spot.” Kya replied, taking both of Lin’s hands and looking into her eyes. Lin smiled as Kya pulled away from a kiss, dropping on of Lin’s hands and pulling her to the bed. They both laid down on their sides, facing each other. Kya ran a hand over Lin’s scars, brushing a piece of hair aside.

“You never told me how you got yours,” Lin whispered. She could feel a change in Kya when she asked, the older girl stiffened and sat up, her left hand gripping her opposing wrist. Lin proved herself up with one arm, her gaze landing on Kya’s eyes that held an emotion Lin was too familiar with.

“It’s not exactly something I’m proud of. Or even something I want to remember.” Lin stayed silent, wondering if she should push further. Kya rolled down her skirt a bit, revealing the three crosssd scars, similar to Lin’s in texture, but they were larger and not as pink. “When I left, to explore the world, I meant all types of people. Most of them were amazing, kind. Powerful. But there were some not so good ones.” Lin remained in her silence, listening to Kya’s words. She reached out and touched the healed gashes on Kya’s side, taking notice of the water benders resistance. “This one night, I was in the fire nation in a pub, my friends had left I was cleaning up, finishing my drink, paying the bill, you know how it is.” Lin nodded. “And one of the not good ones, who was absolutely trashed on drinks came up to me. He pulled me in close, and whispered into my ear. Told me to go with him.”

“Did you say no?”

“I wanted to, but there was a knife to my side. When I hesitated, he made the first one.” Lin waited as Kya took Lin’s hand and ran it across the horizontal mark, closing her eyes as she did so. And Lin tried her hardest to hold back her tears as Kya let go some of her own. “He took me to, god knows where. Some shit house two blocks from the pub, pushed me to the ground and the next thing I knew he was on top of me.” Lin bit her lip, feeling fists form at her side. “I tried to fight him off with the water from a rain pale nearby, but it wasn’t enough. He slashed me again, deeper this time and I stopped fighting. I wasn’t ready to die, Lin.” Lin felt her chest tighten as she watched Kya’s pained expression. Her heart snapped at Kya’s next words.

“I let him do it. I didn’t know what else to do I was so scared. He laughed about it Lin! I still remember him leaning into my ear, telling me... cutting the final one. I wanted to scream, but there was a knife and I wasn’t working properly and I-“ Lin cupped Kya’s head in her hands and Kya broke into a steady sob.

“Hey it’s okay, Kya it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

“Lin you don’t get it,” she sobbed, “I went back.” Lin paused, and Kya’s sobbing decreased for a moment.

“What?”

“I went back, two years ago, and I- I did something.”

“Kya what happened? You can tell me.”

“I didn’t mean too. I wanted him to feel my pain. Their pain. I had never bloodbended before and I...” Kya trailed off, breaking into the sobs again. Lin pulled her head to her chest and let the water bender cry on her. Lin’s heart was racing and a mix of emotions went through her head, anger, definitely, sorrow. Confusion.

“Kya did you... the man?”

“I killed him Lin. And I walked into the department I told them what I had done. Izumi, and Zuko, they came two days later and got me. I went home after that.” Kya wiped her cheek with her hand.

“Does Katara know?”

“No- yes? I don’t know. I never told her but you know how she is. I never told anyone the whole story, I think Izumi and Zuko figured something had happened but that’s it.” Lin pulled Kya close to her again and kissed her on the top of her head, and rubbed her back.

“I love you Kya. Nothing will change that. He hurt you okay?” Kya didn’t reply, she just let herself be held by Lin. Her hand still rubbed against her scars, not a day went by were she wished they were gone. She hated them, and she guessed Lin could somewhat understand what that felt like. At some point Kya fell asleep and Lin laid her down on the bed, throwing a blanket over her. Before Lin could leave she heard the faint voice from behind her call her in a near inaudible whisper.

“Can you stay?” Lin nodded and went back to the bed and crawled next to Kya, who settled her head on Lin’s chest. Lin stroked her hair and stared at the ceiling, processing what Kya had just told her. She took a deep breath, and soon she too was asleep, nestled into her girlfriend.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

See You in New York (part four)

A/N: WOAH ARE WE ALL CURRENTLY IN THE SAME HALLUCINATION OR DID I ACTUALLY UPDATE THIS STORY?! The first might seem more feasible, actually, but strangely enough its the latter. I’m sorry this story went on such a long hiatus and I am very happy to have it back on track...sort of...Anyway. In case you forgot because it’s been eleventy five years, you and Logan are on the ferry on your way to show him the sights from Liberty Island. Oh, yeah...and you have some news to share with him before that part of your day is up. How will he take it? 

Word Count: 5,710 

*parts 1-3 and the intro to this series Services No Longer Required are available on my masterlist under the Logan Delos tab* 

Slow down, Delos. A few months ago, the warning would have come from you, reminding him not to get too drunk or too handsy, not to cause a scene. He would have rolled his eyes and groaned, displaying his distaste for censoring his behavior. But for once in his life, the warning came from himself. For once, Logan refrained from flinging himself headlong into the abyss of whatever new vice had taken hold, tried instead to take his time. For once, Logan resolved to take one step at a time, to be in every moment instead of skipping several steps ahead of himself. It’s worth it, she’s… He turned towards you. She’s different. I’m different because of her. With your hand on his thigh and your shoulder leaning into his, you anchored him in that resolve. He pushed away thoughts of pushing you up against the railing of the ferry and kissing you so indecently that even New Yorkers would stare. There’ll be time for that later, he told himself as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before smiling up at him. Plenty of time.

As the ferry cut through the gray blue water of the Hudson leaving white caps in its wake, you promised him the most amazing view of the city skyline. “It’s a good day for this, Logan. The sky is clear, so you’ll be able to see everything.” 

He smiled, nodding. But even if the sky was full of clouds, even if rain fell in sheets to force the two of you to take cover, even if the wind whipped the water into choppy waves, it would still be a good day for him because he was spending it with you. The sun reflecting off the rippling surface made the whole river seem to sparkle and shine. It made the chipped paint and weathered, dated appearance of the ferry feel fresh and new, and Logan couldn’t help but compare himself to the old boat. I bet it’s seen some rocky waters, too. He shifted his eyes to the side, looking down at you from behind his sunglasses as his thumb moved slowly over the skin of your far shoulder. No more rocky waves for me. 

There was still a lot about him and his past that you didn’t know, but the things that he had shared with you hadn’t scared you off, and he had no intention of repeating old mistakes or falling back into bad habits. He knew his limitations and he knew how to keep himself in check. In truth, Logan had been doing just fine before he met you. Finding stability on his own and regaining the control he’d lost over his company had defied nearly everyone’s expectations of him, and while when he was younger he found the lack of confidence from others to be discouraging, he almost welcomed the chance to prove people wrong now. He didn’t need anyone to quantify his happiness or to keep him in line. Getting this chance to have you in his life would simply give him the opportunity to share that happiness with someone else, someone who did believe in him, who saw him and didn’t flinch at the truth. 

But that doesn’t mean I have to rush it. This is… He inhaled a deep breath through his nose as he felt you give a light squeeze on his thigh, calling his attention to the way that the sunlight was hitting the glass panes that made up the flame at the top of Lady Liberty’s torch. He glanced up at where you were pointing, the golden yellow beams refracting to make it look like real fire. But he was quickly drawn back down to you, to the way that that same light was igniting your eyes. To him it was just as stunning as the glass. Letting out the breath he’d held in his chest, he continued stroking his fingertips absently down over your bicep, slipping his pinky beneath the strap of your dress. We have time. 

When Logan first realized that he had developed feelings for you, he tried to push them away. He was in the middle of recovering his public image from scandalous, albeit false, accusations regarding his behavior with female employees and coworkers, and so he knew that starting something with the very woman who had been brought in to clean up that mess was that last thing that he should be doing. For weeks he ignored the fact that every time you passed his office and flashed a smile or a polite wave, it made his pulse quicken. He shook off the fact that your laugh as the two of you ate lunch together was becoming one of his favorite sounds, even as he’d find himself storing up things to say to you in hopes that he’d get to hear it. He overlooked all of the signs that he was falling for the one person who was supposed to be off limits. And it didn’t work. Grinning to himself, he recalled the way it felt to bet high and go all in with you at the end of your contract, taking a chance and asking you to take one on him. Best way I’ve ever closed out a contract.

But even though things had ended almost exactly as he’d wanted them to, he’d felt rushed for time. He’d known that he had exactly one chance to show you that he was interested, and needing to wait for that one chance until the very last day of your contract had only made it feel more desperate and dire. But now there’s no expiration date, no last day. He felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the sunlight or the statue’s torch and everything to do with your hand on his leg and the chance you’d given him. Now we can...it can be normal. I can take my time. 

Having to wait the two weeks between dropping you off at LAX and seeing you again at LGA had been tough. Logan was used to instant gratification. When there was something he wanted or needed he didn’t wait, he found a way to have it now. In some aspects of his life it had served him well. In business, it made him a harsh negotiator, and in his personal life it gave him a sense of accomplishment to be able to provide for himself at such a high level. It also meant that he dove head first into pools he would have noticed were too shallow had he only been more careful. It was, he knew, a trait that made him more prone than others to fall victim to addiction, and it was something he worked to balance within himself daily. Normally, a two week delay between the moment that he knew he wanted you and the moment that he actually got to have you would have been a deal breaker. Even if he’d looked past the waiting, the fact that this was about as long distance a relationship as two Americans could possibly have would have doomed it from the get go. Different time zones? All those miles? So many closer, more convenient options? Normally, none of this would have made any sense to him. 

But with you, it simply did. Everything with you had been different from the very start. You’d taken the time to get to know him, the real him, not the Logan Delos in the papers, not the one in the boardroom or the ballroom or the bedroom. Him. You knew useless things about him, like which condiments he used on what food items, or that he only used yellow highlighters on paperwork. But you also noticed little details that pointed to parts of him that he wasn’t used to sharing. Like how you could tell from how he undid the top two buttons of his shirt whether or not he was stressed or just trying to get comfortable. If it was the former, he’d slowly trail his pointer finger horizontally under his chin. There wasn’t a scar there because the blade had just barely broken the skin, but when he was stuck on something or upset with an outcome, it was as though he could still feel the cold steel of the knife William had threatened him with in the desert. You’d only seen him do it once or twice when you’d made the correlation between the negligible motion and what he was thinking and feeling, and it took him completely by surprise. No one would notice that. Juliet doesn’t even know that, and she knows everything. 

You didn’t even know the whole story of what had happened on that trip to the park, but you picked up on one of the residual phantoms from it that Logan still carried. I’ll tell her. I’ll… she needs to know. All of it. The ferry began to turn towards the slips at the end of the dock on Liberty Island, and you pulled away from him to sit up straight, gathering your bag and making sure you had all of your belongings. But not… it doesn’t have to be all at once. He let his hand slide down your arm before unwinding it from around your shoulders, bringing it up to comb through his hair. It’s not a rush. I can...we can take things slow. You turned back to him then as you slung your bag over your shoulder, and he had to hold back a throaty groan at the way your lips pressed together before spreading into a grin, cheeks disappearing under the lenses of your glasses. Damn. He was thrilled to be out with you, carefree and relaxed. But I can’t wait to get her back to that hotel room tonight.

“What’s that look for, Delos?” You let your smile curve up one side of your face until it was a smirk. 

Oh you know exactly what it’s for. Logan pulled his sunglasses off and folded the arms to hang them from the neckline of his tee. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, buzzkill.” He shrugged, trying and failing to keep from giving himself away, laughing as you playfully smacked his arm. 

The boat lurched as the captain maneuvered it further to completely dock, and Logan took advantage of the shift and the way it drew your attention elsewhere to wrap his arms around you again, crushing you close and swallowing your laughter with a kiss. Sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, he bit down with gentle pressure as your fingers curled in the material of his shirt. You hummed as he pulled away, and the sound was almost enough to launch him into another, more involved kiss. Slow down, damnit. He brought one hand up to your ear, eyes focused on the earring you wore and the way his sudden attack had caused it to flip around. 

“What are you-” you sucked in a breath as he used his thumb and pointer finger to fix the earring, your eyes falling closed as his touch ran down the side of your neck. 

“There.” He smiled as you blinked up at him, enjoying knowing that he’d just put that look on your face, and that there wasn’t any other face he wanted to see that look on but yours. Damn. Standing, he reached for your hand and pulled you to your feet as well, deciding that if he didn’t get up that second, he wasn’t sure if he could justify moving from that bench on that ferry with you. “C’mon, you promised me some views.” 

You laced your fingers tightly through his and squeezed. “And I always deliver on my promises.” You paused long enough to wink and he was sure you heard the groan in the back of his throat as he wondered what other types of promises you’d make to him. “Let’s go.” Good idea. 

Logan let you lead the way off of the ferry and onto the island, following a crowd of tourists towards the base of the enormous green statue. Shit, it’s a lot bigger in person than you think it is… He felt his eyes widen in genuine appreciation for the massive structure in front of him. People built that. He gave a minute shake of his head, staring at one large sandaled foot where it stood planted on the multi-storied pedestal you were leading him towards. 

“Speechless already, Logan?” You tugged on the hand that you held and he tore his amazed expression away from the statue and looked down at you. “Wait until you see it from the top.” With that, you changed direction and started leading him towards a different entrance. 

“Where are we-” He looked back over his shoulder at the line forming in front of the main entrance. 

“That’s the general admission entrance,” you explained, a hint of mischief coloring your voice that excited him. “But I pulled some strings and called in a favor I had with a friend of mine who...well really he’s a friend of Cynthia’s, but,” you sighed through a smile, reaching up to remove your sunglasses as you stepped into the shade. “Long story short? We’re not waiting in any lines.” 

You shoved your sunglasses into your purse and dug around for your phone, pulling it out and scrolling through your email to find the digital passes you’d been sent that would get you inside and up to the top without having to share the experience with dozens of strangers. You showed it to the guard at the door you’d lead Logan to, and he nodded, saying something into the walkie he had clipped to his shoulder as he opened the door for the two of you. “Wait right inside, Byron will be right down, he knows you’re coming. You two enjoy your visit,” he said as you both stepped inside. 

You both thanked the man as he pulled the door shut again, and Logan’s surprise only grew as he turned to you. “I thought you said you were showin’ me the real New York.” He cocked his head in the direction of the long lines out front. “Doesn’t that mean-” 

“No,” you cut him off holding up one finger and waving it before you pressed it to the middle of his chest to pull a chuckle from him. “First of all, real New Yorkers don’t come here because it’s always full of field trips and family vacations and there are plenty of other places in the city to take pictures. But,” you pulled the finger away from his chest and waved it once more. “If we have to partake in the touristy side of the city, we do it in style. I’m doing this for you here, Delos, not, oh!” 

“I know.” He’d pulled you quickly to his side then, lips landing near your temple. I know you are, and I… no one’s ever done anything like this for me before. “Thank you.” 

“Logan, you’re…” your voice came out as a strained whisper before you cleared your throat. “You’re welcome.” 

The elevator at the end of the small hallway dinged as the doors slid open before he could say anything else, a man in a uniform similar to the one the guard was wearing emerging from the car. He gave you a bright smile and greeted you by name. You introduced the man to Logan, explaining that you’d met him a handful of times through Cynthia, who had known Byron since their college days. 

“Thanks again for doing this for us, Byron, I really do appreciate it.” You followed the man as he headed back towards the elevator he’d come from.

He laughed. “Of course, it’s not every day a woman like Cynthia comes calling for a favor, and once I heard that it was for you, darling?” Byron flashed a large, good-natured grin. “I was happy to do it.” 

“What exactly is goin’ on?” Logan couldn’t help but ask the question as he stepped into the elevator with you and Byron. I thought I knew what today was gonna be like but… this… He glanced over at you to catch your smile widening. 

“She didn’t tell you?” Byron’s eyebrows flew up on his forehead as he pointed to you, and Logan shook his head no. The other man laughed, the sound hearty and genuine. “Oh then you’re in for a surprise, Mr. Delos.” 

Logan was about to press the issue further when you spoke. “Just hang in there a few more seconds, Logan. You said you trusted me to surprise you, right?” I sure do. He nodded, and without missing a beat you reached up to fix a strand of hair that had fallen over his eyes. “Okay, so trust me.” 

He heard Byron’s muffled laugh as the man tried to cover it up with his hand but his eyes were focused on you. Damn. The way she… “Okay,” he nodded. 

“Okay,” Bryon pointed to the lights above the door, the top floor lighting up just as a soft ding sounded. “Here we are. I’ll be just outside here, you’ve got about twenty minutes between tours so,” the elevator door opened to show a small vestibule area, and a set of doors with a small sign over the top that read just one word: crown. “Enjoy.” 

You thanked him again and pulled Logan towards the door, but he paused, pointing up to the sign, one side of his smile pulling his cheek further up his face than the other. “The crown? That mean we’re-”

“No one gets to come up here alone, Logan.” You grinned, your smile changing your voice to make it lighter. “Well, no one but us.” 

Us. The small word sent a big rush through him and he inhaled through his nose as he let you pull him the rest of the way through the doors and into the observation deck of the crown level. He was overwhelmed by the combination of big things and small gestures, special moments and mundane ones all mixed together. And it’s not even...it’s just noon and we’re… 

But his thoughts were completely scattered as he took in the sight before him, mouth dropping open and a breath slipping out. Damn. The inside of the Statue of Liberty’s crown was far less glamorous than the outside, exposed steel beams and grated flooring making the small room feel more like a construction zone than a monument, but it was the arched window panes and the light coming through them that caught and held Logan’s attention. Beyond the glass he could see the river the two of you had just crossed, glittering between the island and the city, and he felt himself drawn towards the view, glancing back once at you before stepping up to the windows. “This is…” He leaned his hand against a beam and looked out. 

“Yeah,” you stepped up next to him, ducking under the arm he had propped against the beam, looking out the window and leaning into him slightly. With a sigh you continued. “It’s pretty beautiful, isn’t it?” Something in the sigh made him snap his attention down to you, but you’d already moved on to the next set of windows before he could bring it up. What was that? “I’m gonna,” you waved your phone and rolled your eyes. “I’m gonna play tourist and take some pictures. You should look out over there,” you pointed to a particular window. “The view facing that direction is-” 

“Alright,” he decided to let it go, figuring that you’d tell him if anything was wrong. What could be wrong, anyway? We’re… this is… she’s amazing. 

He watched you turn back towards the window you’d been walking to, eyes drawn to the way that the skirt of your dress twirled around your knees, and it was difficult to peel them off of you and train his vision back on the skyline and the reason that you’d brought him here. She’s the real reason, though. He felt another warm rush pulse through his chest as he let himself get lost in the view and the woman who had lead him to it. 

After a few minutes had passed, Logan straightened up and took a step back from the window. He turned towards where you stood, still gazing out on the far side of the curved platform. The view that had just stolen his breath, of the sun reflecting in diamonds off of the river and the shrunken city on the other side, had been one of the most impressive things he’d ever seen. And that’s saying a lot. Logan had had no shortage of unique, once in a lifetime experiences- things most people, including you, could only dream of. But this is different. This wasn’t new or cutting edge or high tech. Yet it was something that he hadn’t even thought to dream of- precisely because of what it wasn’t. He could only see half of your face as you continued to soak up your city from above, but he could tell that you were smiling from the slight rise of your cheek. I never would have done this if it weren’t for her. “Hey,” he added your name, loving the way it rolled off his tongue, and you turned, sunlight streaming in from behind you. 

“Hi,” you answered, darkening the screen on your phone and stepping over to where Logan stood. 

“You get some good pictures?” He pointed to the phone you held, but his eyes hadn’t left your face. You nodded. “Good. C’mere.” He reached for you and took the phone from your hand, explaining himself before you had a chance to ask what he was doing. “Need one more.” At that he brought up the camera app and held the phone out in front of the two of you, pulling you close enough to kiss but refraining and snapping the picture in the seconds before his lips met yours. That’s gonna be a good one. He hadn’t checked it but he didn’t need to, and he slipped your phone into your purse where it hung from your shoulder without even breaking the kiss. When he finally did pull away, you hummed and placed both hands on his chest to steady yourself. “Ya know,” he leaned in to run the tip of his nose over yours before pressing his lips against your cheek. “I think I’m really startin’ to like New York.” 

..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..

Shit. You stiffened in his arms and you knew that he felt it, even if he continued to let his hands roam over your waist and shoulder, and his lips claimed every inch of skin between your mouth and your ear. You sucked in a breath as he walked you back slowly until your back touched the cool glass of one of the window panes. The sensation of the glass and his hands on your body was almost too much, but you couldn’t let it eclipse what he’d just said. Or what I have to tell him.  

“Oh?” You managed the one word question between kisses, letting your hands travel up over the plane of his chest to his shoulders. He responded by humming an Mmhmm against your skin, making you shudder. “And…” your breath hitched as you clutched his shirt. “And what makes you say that?” 

“The company,” he answered, moving one hand from the small of your back to the front of your body, letting it climb up the side of your ribcage. “I can see myself comin’ back  to visit,” he nipped at the earring he’d fixed earlier before speaking around it. “Often.” 

Shit. 

Before you could say anything else, he surprised you by continuing to alternate between speaking and dragging his teeth over your skin. “I like that I get to come see you.” 

“Logan…” You knew you couldn’t let the moment go on without telling him about your move, but you weren’t sure that he heard you. You could barely hear yourself from the way that he was leaving you breathless. 

“Leavin’s gonna fuckin’ suck,” he pressed his nose into your hair and inhaled before changing positions to give the same attention to the other side of your neck and your other ear. “But,” he ran his teeth over the outer shell of your ear and you hissed. “It’ll mean I have somethin’ to look forward to, comin’ back here. And it means I’ll have to be patient. And you know what that means-” 

It was time to earn your nickname. 

“Logan, I...I have to tell you something.” You groaned as his thumb found the triangle of exposed skin at the top of your abdomen, his lips roaming the slope of your shoulder before he took the strap of your dress between his teeth. But if you keep doing that I…

“Yeah?” He released the fabric from his mouth and the hand he had on your hip came up to the base of your skull, the thumb of his other hand still pressing lightly into your flesh. Your grip on his shirt tightened as he walked you back another step. “Go ahead’n tell me then.” You could feel him smiling as he said it, lips pressing to the top of your shoulder again as you felt the cool glass behind you. 

Closing your eyes, you tried to quiet the thundering beats of your heart but they only seemed to echo in the empty observation deck. But between his touch and the diminishing space between your body and his you could feel yourself losing that battle, and it was only a matter of time before his chest was pressed to yours, only a matter of time until he could feel it for himself. You let out a sigh as your head tilted to the left, and you felt yourself give up. Can’t… not when he’s… 

“Thought you hadta tell me somethin’.” His beard brushed your cheek as his warm breath tickled your ear. “ What is it?” 

“You’re not-” Your words were cut short as he leaned his hips forward, pinning you in place. Shit. 

“M’not what?” He kissed the skin behind your ear and for a moment you thought about abandoning the confession entirely. But I have to… He needs to know and… 

“You’re not gonna like it, Logan.” Your voice was thin, barely a whisper as you opened your eyes. 

He pulled away then but didn't take his hands from you, palms relaxing but maintaining contact. “Hey,” his dark eyes found yours and locked on, softening. “What is it? You’re...worryin’ me a little here.” 

“I’m sorry, I,” you shook your head and let out a breath. “I don’t… you don’t have to worry, I just… Look.” You sighed and brought both of your hands up to your head, combing your nails back over your scalp as Logan dropped his hands from your body. “I know why you like this… why you like New York, and why you like that I live here and not…” 

He spoke your name and tilted his head. “What are you...what do you-” 

“I know you, Logan.” I do. “I know that you like the distance because it means we can’t… that you can’t rush into something, or that we won’t burn out and spend too much time together too soon or-” 

“Kinda blew that one before he had a shot though, didn’t we? Spent every day together for six months.” He brought one hand up to your face to tilt it back up to his, and you saw questions swimming in his eyes. “So what is it?”

“Logan, I’m…” Just say it for fuck’s sake. “Remember when I told you that Cynthia had me on a new project?” 

“Yeah, of course.” His eyebrows came together as creases formed in his forehead and small crinkles gathered in the corners of his eyes. “But…” 

“She promoted me, Logan. She wants me to run a new office and I’ll have to relocate.” Why are you drawing this out? Just say it. 

“Oh,” He let his expression relax. “That’s... that’s great! Congratulations! Don’t...I can still...it doesn’t have to be New York, you know. I’ll come see you anywhere.” He narrowed his eyes and let a small smile seep into them. “I have a ton of miles, I can use ‘em whenever.” I’m sure you do. “So,” he leaned in and kissed you quickly. “Where are you off to? Miami? Is Cyn finally goin’ International?” His expression changed to one of excitement. “London?” 

“Los Angeles.” You answered, closing your eyes and feeling his hands drop from your body again. Yeah, that’s what I… “She needs me to run the West Coast office, Logan, she…” 

“L.A.? You’re…” his eyes widened. “You’re movin’ to California?” You nodded, eyes still closed as he took a step back. “When?” 

Blowing out a breath you opened your eyes to see him staring at you. “Soon. Next month. But it doesn’t have to-” It doesn’t have to change anything. 

“You didn’t wanna tell me?” His expression was a mixture of serious and confused, and you wanted desperately to make him understand everything. 

“What? No, of course I wanted to tell you, I just… I know that…” Your heart pounded in your chest. This isn’t… I ruined it. The day, the trip, all of it, it’s-

“You thought I...wouldn’t want to hear it?” He shifted his weight and leaned his shoulder into the steel beam to your left. “Thought I’d get…” 

“I thought you’d think it was too soon for me to… even though it isn’t- I’m moving because of my job, not because of…” you gestured at the space between your bodies. “Not because of this, I...this is still...we just...I wouldn’t try to rush anything like that, Logan, it’s just...bad timing.” 

“Bad timing?” He blew out a small breath that was almost a laugh, and then he shocked you further by stepping close again, both hands finding their way back to your waist. “You think it’s bad timing that the woman of my damn dreams is movin’ to my city, and I only have’ta wait a month?” He searched your eyes with his as a smile curved his lips.

What? 

You were sure that Logan would have reacted differently, and you wanted to make sure that he wasn’t holding anything back. Even though I know he always… “You’re not...worried? That it’s…” 

He leaned in then to quiet you with a brief kiss, his fingers squeezing into your waist as your hands came back to his shoulders. “No.” He kissed you again. “I’m not worried, ‘cause I know you’re not gonna… I know you’re not movin’ because you’re tryin’ to…” he laughed then and brought his left hand up to wiggle his empty ring finger. “Look. I get it. It’s a business move, out of your control. I did like the fact that you bein’ here meant that I’d have to… take things slower than normal but... “ He gave a small shake of his head. “I don’t see why we can’t…” 

“Logan,” you nodded enthusiastically. “We can. We can take it as slow as...we don’t have to spend every day together just because…” 

He laughed again and pressed another kiss to your lips. “No, we don’t, that’s right, killjoy.” You rolled your eyes, his lips still against yours so that you could feel his breath on your face. Damn, this wasn’t what I expected but… you laughed. But none of this was expected. “Plus, you’re gonna have your plate full, runnin’ a brand new office. I bet you won’t even have time for me for weeks.” 

“See? You won’t have to see me any more than if I was still living he- oh! Logan!” 

He pulled you into him then, winding his arms around you to speak into your ear. “You think I’ll get sick of seein’ you?” He didn’t wait for you to respond before he answered his own question. “Not gonna happen.” 

Relief flooded your system then as he tightened his hold on you just to let it go. That’s one half of the news down. Now I just have to tell him who my new client is. You knew that part was easier said than done, and though he’d reacted far more favorably than you could have imagined to the news of your move, that luck simply wouldn’t extend to his feelings towards learning that you were to become very involved with his sister’s ex-husband. But… later. That’s I’ll tell him later, not...it’s too much all at once. I’ll… 

As though he hadn’t just confessed to being...excited? Happy? About your impending move and what it meant for your brand new relationship, as though he hadn’t put your mind and heart at ease all at once, he blinked twice and smiled. “You hungry? Think I saw a sign for a cafe downstairs? They had pizza and-” 

Despite the way that your emotions had just gone on a wild ride, you had to laugh. “No way I’m letting your first experience with New York pizza be from a glorified, overpriced snack bar, Logan. You deserve far better than that.” You rose on your toes to kiss the tip of his nose and you traced your fingertips over the line of his beard where it met his cheek. “C’mon,” you grabbed for his hand just as Byron poked his head back inside to let you know that your time in the crown was up. “There’s a hot dog cart down on the island. That’s how real New Yorkers do lunch.” 

He chuckled and let you pull him back towards the elevator where Byron was waiting to see you both out. “Sounds delicious, Ms. West Coast Office,” he whispered into your ear and you thought you heard a sense of pride as he teased you with your new title. “After you.” 

Standing in line at a hot, metal cart, waiting for a vendor to pass you a hotdog with Logan Delos, you couldn’t help but wonder… 

Could it really be this easy?  

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