#i am especially in love with the hand on the shield shot (so much so that i might give it its own post) and the tiny owl statuette

[mehoymalloy]

[bluevaractyl]

Woooo LU update! "Entrance"

Looks like we were right, the dungeon is the same one Twilight chased the Shadow through. Even in this earlier time, it's apparently a ruin. I have lots of questions about the nature and origin of the dungeons in LoZ. Warriors calls them "old tombs," and Legend echoes this with "Hyrule's tombs." Was that the original purpose of most of them? Or are they just referring to the way many dungeons are dark, dank, underground, and/or haunted by undead creatures? Interesting word choice.

I am very curious about what Hyrule is referring to. Is he aware that some of the items he has found belonged to the hero before him (Legend)? Which ones? The handy/power glove? Power bracelet? Red and blue rings? Is the headcanon that Legend made Hyrule's dolls going to be made canon?? (Also I love their expressions, especially Wind's.)

Love the mention of monsters unique to dungeons! I am so excited to see more. Hyrule is absolutely correct, wallmasters are gross and very annoying. The skulltula was very creepy. Good job, Jojo.

Their reactions here are interesting. Legend is unfazed, shield out but holding steady. Wild, on the other hand, is stumbling out of the way with an expression I cannot put words to, but which appears on my face when I find a spider on the ceiling at 2 am. He has not encountered giant man-eating spiders in his travels and it shows. Also, the return of Time's bow! He is a pretty good shot for missing an eye. I wonder if he had to learn to adjust his aim. Shooting down skulltulas in dungeons is probably taking him back to his own adventures. Maybe not so good memories.

Legend's little prank with the scarf is cementing my realization that he and Warriors really do like to mess with each other. It is also making me wonder if monsters are ever going to do the same. @w1lmuttart made an art pointing out how the Links' attire could be used against them. Yikes!

Twilight is very much on Time's mind. He's worried. I like the detail of Wind in that panel too, since Time has been growing closer to him as they've discovered their connection. It's also easy to see the family resemblance in Time and Twilight's expressions and features here. Warriors makes a good call, but Time knows "it's dangerous to go alone." I wonder how they will end up splitting up.

All images from @linkeduniverse "Entrance"

[n3ptoonz]

Could you please write the reader waking up from a wet dream with Smoke? reader mumbles his name during it so it isn't that hard to tell what's happening and helps when you wake up after maybe... 😵‍💫 established relationship. I LOVE your stuff so much by the way every time you post it's Christmas for me.

christmas 😭😭😭 i love that analogy TYSM anon❤️💚

now...this is what i'm talkin about 😈😈 let's get it DONEE

'Love On The Brain'

Pairing: Royal Guard!Smoke/Reader

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 1 (2023)

Warnings/tags: Smut, Explicit, service top!smoke, switch! smoke, gn reader, reader is a switch, wet dream, established/secret relationship, creampie, m!nipple play, cowgirl, prone, missionary, handjob, sphinx likes when men beg, dacryphilia, reader is like the heir in a primarily female tribe (very outworld-esque)(idk i just wanted to sound cool), barely proofread apologies for typos

Word count: 1.9k

To be the heir in a tribe that was ran by mostly powerful women, it was naturally a blessing to be in your position. Because here, gender didn't matter. First born = next in line for leading. Period.

However, your mother was no stranger to keeping men in their place. Most of the guards that did nothing but protect and serve were in fact men, especially ones that were chosen from clans with high status.

Your quarters, like your other siblings, were a bit far from the main part of the land, but that meant you had your own guard all to yourself--like everyone else. One man that was capable of just about anything, if not everything.

His name was foreign; that of a whole different region outside of your knowledge. What was it again? Ah, it was-

-

"Tomas-!" you choked out a whine as your eyes shut tightly. Tomas held one of your hands while the other was gripping your other hip, watching the stomach bulge appear with stars in his eyes as he had no shame going at a relentless pace.

This was the third time you came in one round. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it right. Who knows how long you've been going at it by now? Honestly, who cares. To basically have the shape of him molded inside you, time was the least of your concerns.

You were signaling that you were about to cum again by the slight grip you had on his hand while the other flew over your mouth. He suddenly stopped his movements and leaned forward to kiss the back of that same hand.

"I want to hear you. Can you do that for me?" he whispered. He said your name over and over in a sweet, gentle manner, as if he was trying to get your attention. What was once a hazy and muffled voice was becoming clearer every time he said your name. And as you opened your eyes-

-

You shot up in your bed and panted, shielding your eyes from the sun rays that assaulted your vision. Your breath stilled you turned to look to your side; Tomas was standing at the foot of your bed in position but a concerned look on his face--he was typically bad at hiding his emotions, it's an ongoing joke between you two.

"I heard you calling my name, are you alright?" he asked, a faint tint of blush betraying him. You were about to get up off the bed when you felt a sort of...sticky substance in your underwear. You froze in your spot before sheepishly looking up at him.

"I am, thank you...Could you, um..." you trailed off.

With these three words he has heard before, he's assuming you're about to ask him to leave so you can have your privacy. Being in a secret relationship with your own guard wasn't exactly all fun and games, he still took his job very seriously, but boy did he enjoy the thrill alone.

He had already made a move to leave the room when you hopped out of bed, remembering that feeling between your thighs as soon as you took a step. If there wasn't a bloom of even more concern on his face before, it's there now. He takes one look at how you were standing, and one look at your bed. Upon seeing a bit of a stain where you were just laying, he was no fool. He knew it exactly what that meant. From you repeatedly whispering his name in your sleep, to the slight jolts every few seconds...

"Did you...uh-"

"Tomas," you said as now stood in front of him with no intention to break eye contact. You looped your index finger around a piece of his armored chest plate and pulled him in for a short, but meaningful kiss. Eventually going back in for even shorter seconds and thirds. You felt like a starved bear woken up from hibernation, and you needed your fill.

"You are going to fuck me. And you will do it how I tell you to. Is that understood?" you whispered. The color red almost completely took over his entire face upon seeing this newly discovered hunger in your eyes, but he was more than happy to oblige by your commands. He did serve you, after all. Why not put it to good use?

The only sounds that could be heard was the bed shaking, skin slapping together, and your cries muffled by your pillow. The swiftness in which Tomas put you in the prone position and pinned you down with his body, he didn't even really need to use his hands for anything besides holding himself up.

"Look at you loosening up for me. Is this how the heir behaves?" he taunted. You gave him free rein to speak how ever he pleased. Your nails drug against the sheets and you panted as the room grew hotter and your skin felt prickly from the cold sweat.

The pure bliss of his long, thick dick dragging in and out of you and the contrast to what was once cold metal armor to his sweaty, warm muscular chest atop your back made you see stars. This was a thousand times better than your dream, honestly.

"Nothing to say?" he asked, slowly yet agonizingly pushing himself into you and bringing his movements to a halt. He was holding your hips down at the same time until a good amount of his weight engulfed you. The angle he was laying at had him brushing right against your g spot, but not enough to get you to cum in an instant.

"Tomas--!" you cried out, squirming and groaning underneath him. You couldn't see it, but Tomas himself had to pause before responding because he was getting overwhelmed. You felt so good around him, he almost moaned your name back.

"You feel...so fucking good wrapped around me..." he whispered. He didn't expect himself to say it out loud, but the cat's out the bag! He slowly shakily pulled out and flipped you onto your back, the sight of your slick mixed with his pre-cum leaking out of you made him dizzy.

Your face was flushed, eyes glossy, and chest heaving; he looked the same. Without second thought you pulled him close for a deep and passionate kiss, reaching your other hand between your legs to grab and pump him. He nearly got choked up mid-kiss. You smiled and chuckled against him as you could feel his hands grabbing for the sheets next to your head. His body was trembling with love and lust.

You continued to stroke him and made sure it was known he wasn't allowed to be inside you again...yet. And this? This...newfound dynamic of power, he loves it. He instinctively started thrusting his hips into your palm and wishing it was you.

He broke the kiss and started nipping at your neck, his shallow breaths and breathy whimpers all too familiar right in your ear. He knew it wouldn't be possible to mark you up the way he wants to, but that didn't really matter. Only he gets to be this close to you and he relished in that alone.

His breaths picking up meant he was close, but you weren't having that. Him coming before you? Especially if you haven't yet? Madness. Though, you knew he wasn't about that either.

You quickly angled him in front of your hole and pulled away right as he thrusted forward. The both of you groaned in pleasure at the sudden contract on both ends and a cold shiver washed over your bodies.

He couldn't help but cum instantly, but he was no punk. He just kept going at the same time you were being filled to the brim. The room couldn't be louder with his determined grunting and the sound of squelching coming from between your legs.

You came shortly after and dragged your nails down his biceps since he had you caged in. He had your back arched, seeing stars, and out of breath.

There must've been something about this morning air because neither of you felt like this was over. Or maybe you didn't want it to be...

You smiled as he rested his forehead against yours, giving him a quick kiss on the nose before pushing him off of you and crawling on top of him. You watched his gray eyes practically twinkle at the sight of you--spent but willing. But also the rays from the sun shining through your window.

One of your hands carefully wrapped around his neck while the other simply put his length back inside. Being on top of him now, you could feel his quick breaths and the slight bucking of his hips.

"No touching while I ride you. Understand?" you said, tone just above a whisper when you leaned in closer to him. He gulped and shyly nodded. He was determined to try his best not to, because he knew you'd be even more willing to punish him for it.

There was no more starting slow. You both wanted and needed to chase this high as fast as possible especially under these circumstances. You took turns having control, and you were going to make the most of it. You were already pumped full of his seed so who needs slow and sensual now?

Your body was kicked into overdrive as you took all of him again. You tried to keep a not so expressive attitude, but damn that was growing harder by the second. No pun intended.

Since there was a free hand that wasn't on his neck, you decided to try something new. You gently rubbed his nipple to see if he'd have a reaction. And boy DID he have a reaction.

"Fuck-" he cursed multiple times. His face contorting and hips bucking harder was all you needed to see. "Ah, don't stop, please." he whispered.

He had to keep balling his hands into fists so he wouldn't just grab your hips and fuck you til you cried again. "By the gods, I'm so close. Don't stop-" his own words interrupted by a combination of a gasp and a moan. You've never seen this side of him before. Even if you did have sex the amount of times that could be counted on one hand, you didn't expect he'd act like this. Of course, he's a sensitive and sentimental guy at heart even if he doesn't show it much outside of being alone with you.

Good thing you were also about to blow too. Would you believe me if I told you he was about to cry? Well, you should. Because he's doing so right now.

"Can I- Agh- Can I please touch you? I can't go on like this-" he begged. You denied him just to watch him cry some more. And as the tears poured from his eyes, you both came together. He wasn't sad or upset. Quite the opposite actually. Little did you know it was so fucking hot to him that you wouldn't give him what he wants right after he just had you pinned to the mattress and filled with his cum.

After you calmed yourselves down, cleaned up, and changed the sheets, you convinced him to take a bath with you and cuddled close to him. You didn't want him to go back to his post yet. It had been some time since either of you had gotten the time to yourselves to do something like this, clearly. You innocently sat in his lap while you two cleaned each other off--including the dried tears under his eyes.

And then you woke up.

Kidding! After your nice, hot bath, you pulled him close as you plopped down onto the fresh sheets just to hold him for longer...Thank the gods today was your off day.

a/n: HI...! XDXDXD COLLEGE WAS WHOOPING MY ASS, my bad y'all! i hope yall fw this bc deadass this person asked for this in fuckin january, i feel like a shitty author rn😭😭but we got it done 🙏🏾 idk when imma be able to focus on tumblr fics again, but hopefully it won't take as long like this did!

[magnoliacharmed]

I’ll Show You A Winner

(not my gif!)

18+, Shawn Michaels x Fem!Reader one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: 1,282

Tags: Referenced drug use (cocaine), Referenced alcohol use, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, face slapping, voice kink, scratching, biting, bruises, condomless sex, reader is a total bitch, Shawn is mean

Summary:

Shawn gets mean with you after you make fun of him for losing a match.

Author's note: haha... yeah

“Aww, are you mad Shawn? Gonna cry about another lost match? God, you’re such a pussy sometimes.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said that you’re a crybaby. Mad that the world doesn’t always revolve around you. Guess all that politicking with Vince didn’t work, huh?”

“Hmm.”

“Didn’t wear your prettiest earrings to his office?”

Suddenly Shawn’s weight engulfed you into the plush mattress. Man he could move fast. His face was splotchy red after the last few hours you two spent drinking and snorting cocaine. It was a poor choice for the night since he was already in such a sour mood. As the hours passed by, he got angrier and angrier. The way you were picking at him wasn’t helping either.

“Some man you are.”

Your noses touched and his light smattering of facial hair scratched against you as he stared into your eyes. His breathing was heavy, so heavy you would’ve thought he just got done in the ring. The way his head cocked to the side made a warning sign flash in your head. The bull was being prodded too much. You didn’t have time to get another insult ready when Shawn’s hand clenched hard into your hair. It felt like he was going to tear it out with how strong his grip was. The pain radiated through your head and neck in a strangely delicious way.

“You wanna see what kinda man I am, honey? I’ll show you.”

Shawn’s breathing quickened as he moved his free hand down to unhook his belt. Just as soon as his pants were down enough, he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Your lips moved in a whispered frenzy by his ear, blond locks of his wavy hair shielding the rest of the room from you. “Can you even get it up, cokehead?” Your laugh was mean… and just the slightest bit panicked.

“Keep talkin’. I’ll shut you up soon enough.”

Shawn’s voice lacked the passion it usually had when he was pissed. You knew that when he was yelling and screaming it would pass pretty shortly. He just needed an outlet. When he was truly upset though? His already deep and raspy tone got even lower. It made your panties flood and your eyes widen. You were really in for it now.

With an aggressive push into you, Shawn began to thrust against your walls. You weren’t quite as prepared as usual, so your voice exclaimed out with a squeak. He continued to stare in your eyes with a look that was miles past angry. There was determination flowing through his veins to win. He couldn’t succeed in the ring tonight, that much was true. But he could make you shut up and could definitely make you come.

Your own hand flew up to grasp at his hair with force. Two could play that game. The feeling of you being so close to pulling it out made him go harder inside you. made him feel alive even more so than the coke. His neck strained as he reached down to kiss you roughly with no warning. Your muscles tightened around his length when his teeth bit your bottom lip.

“You like it when I’m rough, don’t you? Such a slut for me.”

Shawn shook his head in disappointment, but you both knew that he was loving this. His accent, that Texan drawl that made you melt, was especially heavy when he spoke. He could be as harsh as he wanted— as long as he kept talking you through it.

Before you could respond back, Shawn released his grip from your hair and instead wrapped his hand around your neck. You gushed below him, wet sounds filling the room when you adjusted your legs to surround his waist. You got a little dazed and lightheaded at the lack of air you were getting. Mirroring him, you decided to choke him back. It was too bad you weren’t strong enough to put as much pressure on his neck as he had on yours, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. The slight squeeze you could give was enough for him to groan loudly above you.

Your vision darkened around the edges. Shawn was pounding you into the mattress while he continued to restrict your airflow. You did your best to grind into every one of his forceful thrusts, your clit shooting bolts of pleasure through you whenever it brushed against him. He smiled at you in that cocky sort of way he liked to whenever he was winning. You got some air back when he moved your head up to angle more at him. He was fucking the bitchy resolve right out of you, tears building at the corners of your eyes at how he stretched you out.

“And look who’s crying now! It’s so pathetic it’s cute.” His cruel voice rumbled and reverberated through your body in hedonistic bliss.

Shawn used his other hand to grab your jaw and hold you in place. He was much stronger than you and your body was beginning to get weak at the impending orgasm threatening to wrack through you. Those soft blue eyes of his were crazed when he stuck his tongue out. You immediately stuck yours out too to swirl around his lewdly, hoping he’d push you into another kiss. Despite everything he’d been doing to you, this felt the most inappropriate.

That was until he slapped you.

It wasn’t very hard at all. It was more of a surprise than anything. Shawn immediately caressed the stinging skin of your cheek, then rubbed the pad of his thumb against your bruised bottom lip. With little force he pushed his thumb into your mouth for you to suck on. You did so gratefully with a dumb sort of expression on your face.

A mocking sigh breathed from his lips. “You disgust me.”

Stars began to overtake your vision before your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hands pawed at his back in desperation. The deep scratches you were leaving weren’t your problem. He could just keep his shirt on the next time he had to be on TV. With every claw mark up the expanse of his well toned back Shawn’s movements stuttered even more. The way you looked at him right before you came, so innocent and doe eyed, sent him right past the edge and over the moon. Shawn filled you with his come until his entire body fell limp above you. It took the last little bit of energy he had to unwrap your legs from around him and roll over to the other side of the bed.

Both of you laid on your backs and breathed heavily into the open air. You felt Shawn shift beside you to stare at your heaving chest. Your cheek didn’t look too bad, but your bottom lip was puffy and your neck was bruised. Your hair was a bird’s nest above you from the pulling. Shawn wasn’t in great shape either. The scratches on his back actually hurt down now that the adrenaline was fading. The alcohol and coke made his face bloated and a headache form at his temples. He was pretty sure that strands of his already thinning hair were pulled out from the way you grabbed at him. Your nails dug marks into the side of his neck that were hard to look at.

In the end, none of that mattered. He won.

“Fuck, Shawn. That was amazing.” Your voice was laced with awe.

“Of course it was, honey.”

“That’s cause you’re the best.” You dragged yourself over to lay against his chest, drowsiness pulling you down into a deep sleep.

“Damn straight.”

[geekywritings]

“You are literally bleeding over my floor.”

Another little blurb for my favourite Jedi. 

You worry constantly about him, especially when he recklessly throws himself into danger. Even more so, when he comes back hurt.

___________________

You hated when he did that. When Cal just threw himself into the most dangerous missions without a care, leaving you behind on the ship. For a quick escape, he always argued, even though you’d much rather accompany him. 

This was another of those missions, as you sat in the cockpit of your small silver ship, engines running and waiting for him to return. Hopefully without a squadron of troopers at his tail. The cannons of your ship weren’t exactly reliable, most calling the whole thing a flying piece of junk. At least it could still fly, you argued back.

Your eyes were fixated on the door straight ahead, leading into some tunnel system which in turn led to some new base the Empire had built on the snowy planet. One that Cal had vowed to destroy.

Seconds ticked by, then minutes and you were growing more and more restless. Perhaps you should go and check on him…

Just then the door at the end of the landing port did open, revealing the familiar red-head running toward the ship, BD holding on tightly on his shoulder. And of course, there was blaster fire behind him, as a small troop was hot on his heels.

He was pressing a hand to his side and your pulse instantly shot upward. He was hurt!

Moments later he was up on the ramp, stumbling into the ship, as you took off, hoping that the wonky shields would hold up against the blaster fire aimed at you. So far so good, and you were quick to take into the skies, going into hyperdrive the moment it was possible.

With the ship on autopilot, you joined Cal in the living area of your ship, where he was leaning against the table.

“Is that blood?”, you asked, noticing the red stain on his side.

“Yes, but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is…”, he began, wincing as he injected a stim into his side. As if that would cure a bleeding wound like that!

“You are literally bleeding over my floor.”, you argued back before practically dragging him toward the bedroom you shared. Your ship hardly left enough room for two private suites.

“Shirt off.”, you commanded.

“Is that your attempt at seducing me?”

Dammit, he had you smiling again, knowing too well how to dampen your anger. “I just wanna take a look at the wound and treat it correctly. Can’t have blood all over this place.”, you still tried to put anger in your voice, but it was gone. Left was only worry for him. And the love you felt.

As quickly as possible, you went to gather all you needed to patch him up, leaving him to undress. When you came back, you noticed that the wound was not from a blaster, but rather looked like claw marks.

He noticed your raised eyebrow and sighed. “Turns out those tunnels aren’t just full of Imps.”, he shrugged. “Nasty things apparently prefer Jedi over Stormtroopers for lunch.”

“Not funny.”, you argued, as you started to clean his wound, ignoring every whimper and twitch from him. “You need to be more careful.”

“I am. Mostly.”

“I am serious, Cal.” The tone of your voice had him drop the humor and sigh, as he met your worried gaze. “I don’t want to lose you.”, you whispered.

Slowly, he drew you closer, pulling you into a hug. “You won’t. I promise.”, he whispered back. “I’ll always come back to you. Always.”

You so badly wanted to believe him.

[ruumirmir]

Reprise of a rolling mist

Part 1 Part 2 (soon)

☽◯☾ Summary - You, the revered God of Healing and Mist, one of the oldest friends of Zhongli, are not one to be easily taken down, but alas, in the Archon war of brutal massacres, you can’t escape death for long.  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☽◯☾ Characters - Zhongli, (minor) Cloud Retainer, (minor) Madame Ping ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☽◯☾ Tags - Zhongli x Reader || Gender Neutral || Angst || Eventual happy ending || Description of blood, violence, and fatal injuries || Mention of death   ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☽◯☾ Word count - 1.2k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☽◯☾ Rumour◇ says - my first ever fanfic to be published on tumblr. In case you haven’t seen my previous post, please do! It has some context in it. I hope i did peepaw some justice,, as much as I love him, it was slightly hard to pin his personality down especially in this wild scenario. I’ll probably belt out the part 2 really soon cause I’m done with it, just gotta decorate the post lmao.

‎• ——————————————————————— The nearby corpse of a beast twitches once before falling still. The loud ringing in your head gets louder by the passing minute. Mouth set into a grimace, you roll onto your back and hack out a wet cough.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It's hard to breathe with a gaping hole in your torso, still fresh and bloody. Your half-lidded eyes focus onto a speck of ash, floating up to melt into the night air. ‎  ‎

‎ ‎ ‎

The God of War doesn’t fear. No. He is the one who’s feared. And yet...

“No...”, Morax kneels there, watching his old friend, laid upon the charred grass.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

Your once lustrous hair, now melds into the soot-stained ground, tainted by blood and grime. Your breaths come shallow and short. For all the dust and debris left in the battle's wake, Mt. Tianheng had a pleasant breeze to offer.

His palm find its way to yours; cold to the touch. Fingers tighten around you, and the clarity slowly returns to your hazy eyes.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

The stench of burnt flesh permeates the air. His gaze lingers over the yawning cavity in your body; charred at the edges. From such a pair of gods, its not Morax who wields the power to heal and mend. It’s not you who possesses the energy to do so.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ And so. his hands tremble uselessly over your gut, or the lack thereof.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

His most trusted. His closest companion. His oldest friend... The one who shares countless memories with him. The one who had promised to do so for many more years to come.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"M-morax," his name spoken like a sigh. The corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile. Your stomach flares in pain when you fight back a strangled whine. "I am... not your burden to bear amidst a battle."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

He sits by you, pained. “Hush... do not strain yourself by talking.” You lie before him, bleeding.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

“O great Rex Lapis, won't you be kind? Won't you be wise? Renounce your lands and people? Spare us all a calamity from befalling those subjects of yours? It’s the least of your payment... for eons of slaughter caused by your hands”

A great many creatures had cackled, with many more swarming in. The seething mass of... beastly wasps, misshapen and overgrown, were all too eager for a massacre. A hivemind; disgustingly coordinated in brains and brawn. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

By the first rumbling of his meteorite that bombed over Mt. Tianheng, a familiar billowing mist had rolled forward to assist. Whether in your solid body, or a lashing mist, it was hard to quell the pyro gnats. ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

The grass is stained red by now.  He takes your hand and grips it tight, to his chest. You brush your fingers over his bruised knuckles.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ By the second rumbling of raining spears, Morax’s harsh orders had sent the adepti and yakshas scrambling towards the unprotected city of Liyue. . . . By the third rumbling of his shield molding around you... a flaming projectile had already shot clean through your torso.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

You need to fight to keep your eyes open.  From a simple flesh wound... what a joke. Your not the admired deity of recovery, just in name, are you?

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Your fingers twitch, tightening around his robes. "Help me sit upright..."

His sharp exhale falls upon your brows, and with the utmost softest touch, You’re pulled up against his torso. Your head sags against his shoulder, where you can feel the thick pool of sorrow under his skin.

"Please... I do not want to cause you more hurt," The words fall hollow from his lips. He holds you up gently, and you can finally focus on his face.  … where you’re met with a wet shine to his eyes.

"What... are you trying to do?" His mouth trembles downwards ever so slightly.

��� ‎ ‎ ‎

But you... you break out in a rebellious smile, don’t you?

The pain is unbearable. And you laugh all the harder for it. Sweat beads your forehead, and your fingers dig into his arm when he presses into your stomach to slow the bleeding. You bite out a groan. It burns.

"Don't look at me like that Morax", you pant. "This... this is but child’s play for a healer of my caliber...."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

Yet, your life trickles out like the grains of sand in an hourglass, and your vision flickers. 

He wipes the blood off your lip, clearly vexed, "You are still yourself, I see. Even as you lay here, near death, you are still joking."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"Just... won’t you humor me one last time?" You rasp out, feeling faint. All sensations except the gritting pain have left already. "Lend me some energy- so my body can return to what it once was..."

"Because... I, the Healer God of Mist, am alone the revered one... who holds mortality at my fingertips..." your voice breaks towards the end, but you still flash a smile of dogged arrogance, don’t you? (There is nothing but a theory borne from your feverish thoughts.)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

He gazes at you; minutes away from the end. The god who holds no regrets, who has not one ounce of fear in their voice. (You have never been more terrified of death, for you only know how to run from it.) With a melancholy rustle of feathers, comes another soft voice, "Ever so conceited, until the very end...”, Cloud retainer murmurs into the night.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

His skin glows alight, veins illuminated on his chest and arms. His gnosis ignites for your fanatical whims. It always did.  "How could I ever refuse you...?", his trembling voice, so quiet. You’re met with a familiar embrace.

‎ … ‎ ‎ ‎ “If mortals pray to gods in their time of need, who does a god pray to?”

Two drops fall to your neck, rolling away until they wet your clothes.

“No one.” His smile is soft, and voice raspy. “A god can only pray to himself... but, he may have hope in others.” ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

Your body slowly starts to dissipate into millions of droplets of condensation that scatter into the air, where the wind blows parts of you away, and away. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The soft tunes of a zither ring out into the air, permeating the atmosphere with a slow melody. An adeptus sits atop a nearby rock, her eyes downcast.

ah. ‘Ping's zither’, you sigh. ‘How kind of her.’

And he smiles through his tears.

Isn't it beautiful?

A great rolling mist dissolves into the air. With dust and ash in the air, it swirls and rises up and above. The wasted grassland is littered with thousands of droplets that shimmer like stars as the moonlight reflects off them. It is as beautiful. as it is empty.

On a night like this, Streetward rambler’s tune graces the wind, until her fingers bleed. Cloud Retainer sheds no tears, but know that she holds your memory well.

And you, Rex Lapis,

Morax,

you weep for me.

Taglist - @ainescribe ||  @theorchardcollective  || @flos-historia​ || @nightrayseishina ||  @thesparklingwriter

[alwaysakin]

Favourite MCU Fic Recs

I'm not nearly as much as an MCU expert as I am a Buffy expert, but here are my favorite MCU fics!

Gen Fics

All The Leaves Are Brown (And the sky is gray) by AvocadoLove - the Winter Soldier kills Howard and Maria Stark... And then raises their young son. This is absolutely incredible, and Bucky & Tony's father / son relationship is so bittersweet.

Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Mentioned Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes.

built from scraps by robinbuckley - Tony Stark snaps. Peter Parker (and MJ!) does not. This fic is absolutely incredible! Pepper, Morgan & Peter's family relationship is amazing, and their grief over Tony, May, and all their friends is wonderful. MJ and Peter's romance, and his friendships with Harley Keener and Nat are great. Oh, and Tony turns out to be Peter's bio dad. READ THIS.

Minor MJ/Peter Parker, and Pepper Potts/Tony Stark.

Things I Almost Remember by IcedAquarius - probably the most interesting Tony is Peter's bio dad fic, purely because Tony doesn't know. More angsty than most fic I read - and be warned: it hasn't been updated in a while. Ned, MJ, and Helen Cho are standouts!

Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, and future MJ/Peter Parker.

The Second Hand Unwinds by The Party Prince - Mobius gives Loki the chance to go anywhere. He visits his brother post Infinity War. A short one shot, and so sad and wonderful.

Love is Pain (Well, Darling, Let's Hurt Tonight) by OverlyObsessed223 - a crossover with the X-Men movies, where X-Men Peter and MCU Wanda can feel each other's pain. A bittersweet look at sibling relationships. Slightly more X-Men focused.

RECOIL by VulpeculaAnser - a season 1 rewrite of Agents of Shield, focusing heavily on Daisy and the trauma that would ensue if she got her powers earlier. Focuses on the found family relationship of the team. Tragically unfinished.

Cool Meta and Multimedia Fics

20 Celebrities Who Could Totally Be Daredevil by RosaLui - formatted like a buzzfeed article. Short, meta, and hilarious!

Steve Rogers at 100: Celebrating Captain America on Film by many - a hilarious historical archive of Captain America movies. Absolutely loved all the historical references. Minor Steve/Bucky.

Best Stucky Fics

What I'm Looking For by TessaBennet - a long, sprawling series of stories that rewrites all of the MCU with a Stucky focus. If you have to read one fanfic on this list, this is the one for you. It fixes canon in so many ways, and completely changed the ways I view many characters for the better (especially Natasha, Sam, and Wanda). The second fic, focusing on WW2, and the 6th (on the events up to/Civil War) are by far the best, but every fic in this series is incredible. Seriously. Read it.

Don't Ask by AnnaFugazzi -a WW2 Steve and Bucky have a secret relationship, and are found out. Realistic and HEARTBREAKING consequences ensue. Ends on a bittersweet note, and is amazing. Be warned - the sequels get much darker and deal with non/con. Personally, I stop reading here.

A Long Winter by dropdeaddream and WhatAreFears - A Stucky fic looking at what would happen if Steve didn't go into the ice, but Bucky was still the Winter Soldier. Steve and Peggy's relationship, and the Howlies, are written so well.

despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by praximeter - The Winter Soldier's mask doesn't come off - a slow burn that delves into the torture Bucky endured and the slow realization about who he is on Steve's part. Very dark.

Never Like This by RobinWood - another slowburn Winter Soldier identity reveal fic. This one in particular writes the whole avengers team so well, especially Tony and his reaction to his parents dying.

Time Travel and Other Fic-It Fics

the reactions of a dead man by agloeian - it's down to Loki to arrange things to stop Thanos. Some really funny bits, and a good look at the limits of what can be changed with time travel. The Loki & Strange relationship is great.

god loves everybody, don't remind me by napricot - Erik Killmonger gets stuck in a time loop. He learns the meaning of family along the way. The author writes Erik so well!

Bringing Him Home by sancuary_for_all - A post No-Way-Home fix it. Ned and MJ have gaps in their memory. Eventually, they piece things together. Really sweet Peter/MJ relationship.

If I Could Start Again by Taarko - at the end of Infinity War, Thor is sent back in time. The amount of lore in this fic is incredible! And the characterization of Thor, Loki, and Valkyrie is great! Very Asgard focused and goes deep into their history.

Relationships: Valkyrie/Loki, Betty Ross/Bruce Banner.

Fics With OCs (That Are Actually Good)

The Wyvern by emmamagnetised - Tony has a younger sister, who is in the car with their parents and is taken by Hydra. The trial of the Wyvern arc is wonderful and sold me on this. It's loooong, be warned. A Bucky Barnes/OC fic.

The Siren by emmamagnetised - a WW2 story about a spy for the Allies in Nazi Germany - who is a childhood friend of Steve and Bucky. Cute relationship between her and Steve.

[vroomvroomwee]

TW: suicide!

The show spent so much time on the psychology of the characters these first episodes, especially on Ed's feelings of feeling unlovable and I think it's pretty interesting how that reflects itself in his treatement of Izzy.

OK yeah, he's tormenting the entire crew, but it's pretty obvious he's picking on Izzy the most. Even the crew noticed, "we think you're in an unhealthy relationship with Blackbeard." it's something they've discussed. And at first glance, you could boil it down to Ed wanting his "Revenge" on Izzy. A sort of "Is this what you wanted?" or a "You did this." type of unspoken message.

But I think it's much deeper.

There's something Izzy does that no other crew member does. Something he has that no other person in Ed's life has.

Love.

He loves Edward. Both platonically and romantically. And Ed just.... can't stand that.

Look at his reaction

Annoyed, exasperated, angry, pissed off

Disbelieving

Coming back to his feelings of being unlovable, I think it's important to mention WHY he does everything that he does. Blackbeard is his shield. It's how he deals with pain and heartbreak. It's a form of self-destructive coping mechanism. He finally allowed himself to be happy and free, his walls taken down, his heart unguarded, and then he suffered for it. He bared his soul and allowed himself to feel love and receive love, and he got hurt. Blackbeard is protecting that soft boy that lives deep down in him, just like The Kraken protected him from his dad.

Therefore, from his perspective, it's much, much easier to accept that being unlovable is just his nature and not because of something he did. Accepting that that's just how he is, relieves him of the guilt of knowing he's done something wrong and that it's all his fault. And believing otherwise is too unbearable.

So he hides behind Blackbeard. Tries to convince everyone around him that that's just who he is. "You were always gonna realise what I am".

And to have that illusion challenged is terrifying.

To have someone force you to rethink everything that happened, and wreck your entire perception of yourself, tear down your defences, is terrifying.

Izzy's still persevering love, terrifies him.

In the gif above, his expression is almost pained. A mixture of "Don't lie to me" and "Don't love me." He's so convinced of his own worthlessness and his feelings that he just can't be loved. He feels safe in his conviction and hence in his misery. Ed has very masochistic tendencies, he's relishing in his grief and sadness because he thinks it's what he deserves. He pushed everyone away. Someone unlovable deserved all this pain. He falls back to Blackbeard because that's someone who's kept him safe before. It's someone he knows. Someone he's familiar with.

And Izzy challenges that.

Now he's forced to abandon his safety and be faced with a different reality. That he CAN be loved. And that is too painful.

"I loved you. As best I could, " despite everything he did love Izzy, but the fear that he could be hurt again prevents him from doing it properly. He's afraid.It's not that he doesn't love him it's just that he can't.

So he tries to get rid of it. Tries again and again to make everyone hate him. Tries repeatedly to squash the love Izzy has for him. And with everyone else, he succeeds. But not with Izzy Hands.

So there's only one option left.

And even after he's shot him and basically made him kill himself, Izzy still has love for him. But Ed still acts like he doesn't care, because the burden of being loved will finally be lifted.

Because that's what love represents for him now. Pain.

And it's so symbolic how he wants Izzy of all people to be the one to shoot him. The only one left in the world who loves him. The one he betrayed and pushed away. The one he wants to shoot him in the back. Say what you want, but I don't actually think he dreamt the scene. Simply wished it.

He's caught in a storm. A wave of feeling loved and unlovable. Of guilt and feeling like a victim. It's unbearable. He's tired.

He just wants it all to stop.

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Okay so I had this on my mind STRONGLY. May I request a scenario/one shot of Platonic Angel reader saving Alois from being killed by Claude and giving the poor boy the happy ending he deserves? Maybe the Angel is like a mother figure to him or is just one year older and is his big sibling figure

first of all HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME BREAK MY OWN HEART

second of all THIS IS LITERALLY EVERYTHING

third of all *UGLY CRYING*

It is not this boy’s time to die.

Some would ask you how you knew that; you’re an angel, not a Grim Reaper. How in the world would you have any idea when a person’s time is up?

But angels are in service to the order of the world in a similar vein to the way Reapers are, so you know this child has so much more life left. There’s no justice in the world that would let some soul who’s already been in pain be ended in a manner such as this.

Demons are vicious creatures, horrible, strong, and too many of them prey on the weak. You can’t stand idly by, not when this boy has such hope in his eyes as this demon approaches him. He sounds so relieved, like he thinks this demon is some knight in shining armor come to rescue him, slay his dragons, love him for the rest of his days.

By now you’ve seen enough of these two, and the others, to know the truth. He’s no savior. He’s a black widow looking for his next meal ― nothing more.

You would be amused at the confusion in the demon’s eyes when you block his assault, if it didn’t outrage you beyond belief. Your entire body braces against him and his callousness, fighting everything he represents. Your entire presence defies the notion that he has any power here.

The soft sound of his would-be victim gasping behind you is not a distraction. It’s motivation. He would be dead if you hadn’t intervened. Even so, in his desperation, you can hear him begging weakly. “No… no, please…” His voice is distant, a far cry from the typical energy you have seen him display. It doesn’t sound right. His life is flickering, and if you don’t get that wound in his side dealt with soon, your efforts are futile.

It makes you want to weep. This child has confused cruelty for affection, pain for love.

Poor thing. You dig your heels into the ground and push back against the demon. This monstrous creature has never loved you. He would rather destroy you.

“Move, or I will move you myself.” The demon’s voice is devoid of any feeling. No compassion for this boy, no anger at you, nothing. To you, that’s worse than anything. Can he not summon up a single, solitary, fleeting emotion?

Of course, no one is about to tell you what to do, especially a loathsome creature such as him. “I am an implacable warrior of God,” you hiss. The sword you wield licks at his form with sparks of flame, a warning as to what will come if he doesn’t stand down. “You will not move me, and I dare you to try.”

As if you had a doubt, he takes the dare. His razor-sharp nails slice into your chest, but you refuse to stop being a shield. Even as heavenly essence leaks from your wounds in the form of white light, you intend to protect this child.

It’s clear that nobody else has done so. You won’t be someone else who fails to do right by him.

The demon’s eyes narrow against the intensity of your blood. If he’s not careful, it could blind a beast like him, and you wouldn’t consider it a loss at all. You will your bright blood to burn his eyes right out of his skull.

His gaze drifts down to the boy he’s left in ruins, and back to you, then he closes his eyes completely. “… Neither of you are worth the trouble. I have more important things to attend to.”

Just like that, his fingers still dripping with your blood and tipped with light that you only hope is eating away his fingerprints, he turns.

Your hands shake, gripping your sword, whilst you stare after him for a long moment to make sure he actually leaves. As soon as you can no longer feel his oppressive black aura, your sword falls flameless into the grass, and you drop to your knees.

It’s the worst pain you’ve ever felt. Knelt next to the boy you’ve kept safe, your hand reaches up to instinctively clutch at your injuries. Even though it hurts, this is nothing compared to what that spider could have tried. You might thank your lucky stars were you not busy thanking God instead; it was no luck, no stars, that allowed you to survive. It was your strength given to you by the Father.

A small whimper catches your attention… a nudge at your side. The poor little blonde boy has dragged himself about a meter simply to lean against you, and he’s so close that you can see he’s crying. From pain? Fear? You still need to do something about his wound…

Before anything else, your free arm quickly circles around him. “There, there,” you say softly as you hold him close. “You’re going to be alright.”

“You shouldn’t have…!” His voice becomes a wail, ragged at its edges, catching on every word. Despite pressing his face in against your neck, he seems to have very little energy for anything else. His breathing is shallow.

You let your lips rest against the crown of his head in a gentle kiss. “Shhh. Yes, I should have. He was going to kill you.”

Tears dampen the spot where he’s buried against you, beading down your skin. “I know! I k… know…” You saw before that one hand is held on his wound to keep the bleeding in check, and his other one now reaches to bunch up the fabric of your dress in his fist. Like a toddler clutching his mother’s skirts as he hides behind her. “But then you… and he… look at you…”

Although he may not fully grasp what’s going on, disoriented from blood loss as he is, he obviously saw what the demon did to you. His voice goes so small with his next words, you nearly don’t hear them. “… You should have let him kill me… he hurt you… I’m not worth that much…”

Your heart breaks for this poor child, for the millionth time. If you didn’t know that God has a plan and will not let it stay broken, you would wonder if your heart would ever be whole again. He has been through so much; too much for an adult, let alone a child.

Why? Why did nobody take care of him? Why was nobody there for him?

None of his pain had to happen. It was all so unnecessary.

This boy lies in your hands, in pieces, because every single person who should have cared for him instead was careless with him. He’s like a statue which has been dropped and hit multiple times, cracking until he began to fall apart entirely.

“You are worth it. These are scratches, dear. They will heal. What he wanted to do to do, there would be no coming back from.” You hold him as delicately as you possibly can, your arm around his shoulders while that same hand reaches up to stroke his hair. “I wanted to save you. I know we don’t know each other well yet, but believe me when I say that God loves you, and I love you, and I couldn’t let that monster take your soul.”

You’re not sure if he has anything to say in response, or if he even can say anything. By the way he continues to cry and sniffle, trying in vain to get himself under control, you think he couldn’t begin to know what to say. Nobody has ever loved him before… well. You know that God has always loved him.

He’s never heard it, though. You want to take a walk through his past and throttle every single person who made him feel like he’s worth nothing.

A stinging pain in your chest reminds you of your own injuries, and suddenly you’re overwhelmed with concern about whether this poor boy is going to survive. If you have anything to say about it, he will.

His story will not end here. You refuse to let tragedy cut his life short before he has a chance to live it on his terms.

You pull your hand away from your chest, and the shimmer of heavenly essence that drenches your fingers gives you an idea. This is the white light, woven into your body by God when you were created. Your blood must be able to do something for him.

“I’m going to help you, sweetheart, alright? Deep breath, now.” You keep your voice low so as not to alarm him, before reaching down to the wound in his side.

You gingerly nudge his hand aside to paint his injury with the sparkling light from yours. He goes stiff in the face of such intense healing. Regardless of the fact that you can see it’s definitely starting to close the wound, it’s an awful lot of sensation. This is healing that usually takes place over weeks or months, happening in an instant.

So you hold him, and he cries, and you don’t tell him to stop. You simply pull him into your lap to comfort him, to protect him while he’s in pain.

How long he cries, you’re not sure. But at last, his breathing starts to become much more even. When he peeks out, drawing his face away from your neck, you can see a little of his color starting to return.

You give him a smile, then kiss his forehead. “There we are. You look like you’re feeling a bit better now. Does it still hurt?”

He shakes his head slightly. “No… not as much.” Those big blue eyes are looking up at you in wonder, as if he can’t believe you’ve just done all this for him. The way he’s clinging to you, he probably thinks you’re going to disappear if he lets go.

“You really are an angel, aren’t you?” he mumbles, and he laughs as he rests his head on your shoulder. Even though he’s mostly healed, he looks so exhausted. Carrying him back to his manor, he’ll be dead weight in your arms. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You tilt your head, continuing to card your fingers through his hair. “You know demons exist. Do you doubt angels?”

This time his laugh is tired, bitter. Too bitter for a child. “I used to pray for someone to save me. I stopped believing in angels, because none came. A demon did. Haha… I was so stupid to trust someone like that, wasn’t I…? But I… I loved him…”

“You weren’t stupid. You were desperate.” At last, you can wrap both arms around him. On instinct, your wings unfurl from your back, and you sweep them against the ground to further shield him. “I may be late, but I’m here now. How do I measure up to the demon?”

Although he’s never done it before, he leans in and simply lets himself be cradled. After a moment, he slips both of his arms around your waist. Despite his touch being weak and careful, he’s holding onto you for dear life. It’s a few seconds before he gives you an answer. When he does, his voice sounds like it’s going to break apart:

“… You’re… so warm…”

You get the sense that the demon was never warm. Sometimes a cooling touch is what a person needs, but this boy? No. This child needs warmth.

Another few minutes pass quietly, with the two of you hugging each other. Something deep in your heart tells you that this boy has been waiting a very, very long time for this hug.

At last, you break the silence. “It’s ALOIS, right? Alois Trancy? I’m (Name) (Surname). I think you’re going to be just fine, but after what’s just happened… I’d say you deserve some rest. How about I get you home?”

You lift him up in your arms as you get to your feet, and he readily tosses his arms round your neck to hold on. “Only if you stay,” he murmurs. His eyes drift closed. “Please… please don’t leave me…”

“I won’t, I promise.” A slight bit of adjustment, and you’re holding him securely, folding your wings back up. He had a carriage around here somewhere, didn’t he…? You don’t want to jostle him too much by flying. “We’ll go home, and I’ll get you in bed so you can sleep. You should feel better soon.”

His grip tightens a little. “In bed…? Mh… well… could you put a lavender candle on by the bed? And… stay in the room… so it doesn’t get knocked over?”

“Oh, of course. That sounds lovely.”

“And… can I… have cake for dinner?”

Your lips quirk up in a smile. “Whatever you like.” He deserves it after everything he’s been through in the last couple of weeks.

“… And cake for breakfast?”

With any luck, your laugh will vibrate all the way through him. “Oh, well… probably not. If you’re going to heal properly, you need more than just cake.”

“I had to try,” he sighs.

For a moment Alois doesn’t say anything, and you almost think he’s fallen asleep until he suddenly speaks up. “Could I… could I… call you ‘Mum’… instead of ‘(Name)’…?”

He says it so hesitantly. Like he’s afraid you’ll tell him no. Like he’s primed for even his non-romantic advances to be rejected.

You have to swallow past a lump in your throat before you reply. “If you want to.”

And that’s it.

He is your child now.

Just like you dared that demon to move you, you wordlessly dare the rest of the world to try and hurt Alois Trancy while you’re still alive.

[valraelo]

Characters: Lillandlas (thalmor oc), Araelo (oc), (mentioned) Valrandil (oc)

Warnings: Fictional racism

It hadn't been easy for Araelo to get used to thalmor presence in his home but he didn't have any choice on whether they stayed or not, so then his only option was to deal with it.

He had smelled it on one of the two invaders as soon as they had been in the same room as him, he smelled of beast, and, while he did think this would have meant war between him and the justiciar, the little smiles he had been blessed with whenever they had been near each other had told him that perhaps he could find a pack mate in him, rather than a foe.

They never properly spoke, he was always either with his companion or with Valrandil, and he dare not reveal someone else's beast blood to others around him in case they might not be aware of it already, he could not possibly betray one of his own in that manner.

It was on a beautiful sunny day that he finally saw the chance to speak to him, as he saw him lying on the grass outside, near the lake, basking in the sun in his birthday suit. He wasn't sure if he would shoo him away considering the condition he was in, but he thought it was best to give it a shot while he had an opportunity.

His skin was a beautiful golden colour, which of course is the norm for altmer, but his was especially golden; his hair though did not share the same colour, being a white purer than his own hair. His face was shaved but the rest of his body was incredibly hairy, certainly a lot more than Valrandil's. When one looked at him compared to others it was very clear he had beast blood in him.

He approached the altmer carefully and, once he felt he was close enough, he cleared his throat to make his presence known.

The thalmor placed a hand over his eyes, shielding them from the sun, and turned to look at him.

"Ah, the big bad wolf, so nice to get to talk with you. Do sit down."

And with that he closed his eyes again and rested his arm behind his head.

Araelo did as he was told.

"My name is Araelo." He introduced himself.

"Lillandlas, but you must have already heard the others say it."

He had, Lillandlas' name had been said much more than his own, in fact there wasn't a single time that he had been called by his name, always being referred to as “the bosmer”.

“I had no idea Valrandil was friends with the thalmor.”

He tried to be careful with his words, not wanting to sound like he was upset about this.

“He's more friends with my colleague than me, I just tag along.”

His tone was light hearted, he didn't seem bothered.

“How come you're visiting for so long?”

“There aren't many places where we can express ourselves so freely.” “Is this about your beast blood or you being lovers?”

Araelo only realised what he had said after it had slipped from his lips, Lillandlas and his colleague had not spoken openly about anything regarding their love lives, he was being incredibly rude with his question and he just hadn't noticed before it came out of his mouth.

Lillandlas laughed at his question.

“Of course you would know what we are, you can smell my blood and you can smell our sweat and semen, I can't keep any secrets from you.” He smiled fondly at Araelo, squinting as the sun was in his eyes.

“It's about both those things and my nudism, which I'm surprised you didn't mention in your list.”

“I'm sorry for bringing it up--your love life.” He tried to apologise, of course Lillandlas didn't seem upset but it was still in his best interest to not mess things up with him.

“It's okay, everyone essentially knows, we simply can't discuss it openly. It would interfere with our job.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

“Is there something between you and Valrandil?”

Lillandlas certainly seemed comfortable, asking such questions, though Araelo had asked for it by starting the topic.

“If you asked him, he would say no.”

“And if I asked you?”

He pressed.

“I would have to say no too, I suppose. Valrandil will never show me his love, I am only a pest to him.”

“I didn't think so, he treats you like filth, but it is curious how he allows you to sleep in his home. Are you more of a servant?”

Araelo thought about it, was he a servant? Did he do anything around the house?

“I'm entertainment.”

“It's a shame slavery was abolished, you look like you would be very willing to be owned by him.”

Araelo chucked nervously, he didn't like where the conversation was headed.

He tried thinking of a new topic, he quickly asked the first question that came to mind.

"Do you feel no guilt having to murder people?"

It was a very sudden and bold question to ask, he briefly regretted it, worrying that Lillandlas might have a negative reaction to it.

"It's an execution, I'm simply enforcing the law."

His tone seemed completely calm, there was no trace of anger in it, and so he felt comfortable pressing for more.

"But it must feel bad to some extent, taking someone else's life just like that."

"Do you feel bad when you take a life?"

Araelo was taken aback by the question, it felt like an incredibly disrespectful one, though perhaps his own questions had been no less bad.

"Why are you assuming I have done that?" "You are a beast too, and none of us have gone without taking down prey, I doubt you've starved yourself."

He couldn't possibly be comparing murder to the overwhelming bloodlust one gets in their beast form.

"Well, it is different, I had lost control, I didn't mean to do it."

"Are you from Valenwood?"

Another surprising question, he didn't see what it had to do with anything they had talked about, still he answered it.

"Yes, I was born there." "Was your cannibalism guiltless too, then?"

Araelo furrowed his eyebrows, he didn't like whenever people insinuated he was a cannibal.

"How can you assume I ate people simply because I was born there?" "Is it true?"

Araelo didn't want to dignify such a question with an answer, but he did feel much pressure to do just that, and so he reluctantly answered. "Yes."

It didn't feel good to admit that the stereotype was completely true for him.

"Do you feel guilty for it?" "I always thought it was only food, and that it was what we had to do."

"Then mine were just orders to follow. It is what I have to do.

Lillandlas laid it out right then, clear as day, he was guiltless in his eyes, completely clear of sin, and though Araelo still did not agree with his actions, though he would never openly say so, he felt that that's where the conversation had to end, as the point had been made to him.

There was silence between them for a while until Lillandlas finally broke the silence.

“How well can you control your beast form, Araelo?”

Araelo was surprised at hearing his name coming from Lillandlas' lips, it was a sign of respect he didn't receive on the daily.

“I can turn on command as long as the moon is out, but once I turn I can't go back until morning.”

“Then tonight we are a pack. I will meet you outside the stables when the sun sets, don't make me wait too long.”

Araelo raised his eyebrows. A pack? He had never formed a pack with another person. The thought excited him, the idea seemed wonderful to him.

“I will meet you there.” -Cine

[dreamy625]

Love and understanding - one-shot

Words: 1600

Content: Mentions of drinking. Inspired by Mick Wall’ and Ross Halfin’s stories of ending up in bed with Steve on the Hysteria tour. Not actually birthday-related but nevermind!

—-----------------------------

Dani blinks her eyes open, squinting against the chink of light that has snuck around the edge of the curtain to land directly on the pillow.

“Ow.” 

She quickly shuts her eyes again, but it does nothing to temper the pounding headache. And what is that terrible noise? The air conditioning? Traffic? No. Oh. Snoring. Now she can feel the weight and faint warmth of another body next to hers. Shit. She is way too old for this kind of nonsense. 

A quick check establishes that she is wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Everything feels… unsullied. Phew. Awkward, but likely no significant consequences. Panic subsiding, she tries to force her befuddled brain to focus and recall what actually did happen last night. It’s all a bit foggy. She remembers hanging out in the bar until it closed, then coming back here with Ross, a couple of guys from the band, and was it a few of the tech crew? Then some kind of game? Involving vodka? The thought causes a sudden wave of nausea, so she quickly jerks her mind away from the memory and turns her attention back to the person sharing her bed. It would be useful if snoring had an accent - British or American would at least reduce the number of possibilities - but apparently not. From the tilt of the mattress it doesn’t feel like an especially big someone, and all her nose can detect is cigarettes and Drakkar Noir, but that is what literally every guy smells like these days. So definitely a man then. Nothing else for it, she’s going to have to look. Then she’ll be able to make an assessment of exactly how much of a tit she’s made of herself. Very carefully she turns over. Sweatpants, t-shirt, one sock, a tangle of blond hair. Oh thank god, it’s only Steve. 

The relief is short-lived - waking up next to sweet little Steve is infinitely less embarrassing than some of the other options, but he’s definitely not supposed to be here. He has people checking up on him, there’ll be such a row if they find he’s gone awol again. Slowly she turns her head, no sudden movements, to look at her companion’s watch - 7:20-ish. Okay, so there’s a small chance they haven’t missed him yet. Just need to get him up and back to his room before anyone comes looking for him. So what’s a good way to wake someone who might not be super-happy to discover where they spent the night? 

“Steve,” she whispers. No response. A little louder, “Steve?” 

Nothing. Guess if he can sleep through his own industrial-strength snoring, no sound short of a full brass band is going to do it! A different approach is required. But Steve must have some kind of sixth sense because just as she reaches out her hand to his shoulder, his breathing catches and his eyes ping open.

“Good mor…”

“Aaaaaaaaaargh!”

He leaps out of bed as if spring-loaded, grabbing the pillow as a shield. His body doesn’t seem to have properly woken up though and he only manages to stumble a couple of steps before bumping backwards into the dresser.

“Wha…? Where? How?”, his eyes darting round the room in confusion.

“Steve. STEVE. It’s okay. You’re in my room. In the hotel. You remember who I am, right?”

“Course. Dani."

“Good. Then it’s okay isn’t it?”

Steve nods, but he still looks disorientated, and wary, pressed back against the bureau. 

Dani pats the bedspread, “Sit down, you’re making the place look untidy. Do you want water? I’m getting water.”

Steve nods and sits gingerly on the very edge of the bed. When Dani gets back with two tumblers of water from the bathroom, he is still hugging the pillow and frowning at the stack of notebooks on the bedside table.

“You’re not going to write about this are you?”

“No.” He doesn’t look convinced. “NO. I wouldn’t.” She hands him a glass and a couple of aspirin. “What would I even write? ‘My night of rock star debauchery’? Even Kerrang has some standards!”

“What… last night… we… nothing… we didn’t…?”

“You don’t remember?”

Already pale as a ghost, Steve’s face turns even whiter, “Oh god. I… I’ve got a girlfriend… I…”

Feeling mean for teasing, Dani quickly reassures him, “Nothing happened. I think we just passed out. Look,” she gestures at herself and then him, “fully dressed. No immoral behaviour.”

“You’re sure? Because I… I don’t always know… what I’ve done.”

“I’m sure. It’s okay. Chill. You’re not even my type.”

“Oh. OH. You’re…?” His eyes widen.

“No.” She rolls her eyes, “Just because a woman doesn’t fancy you she must be gay?”

“N-no… course not… I didn’t mean…”

“I like men. Unfortunately. Some men. Just not…” She can’t think of a way of saying ‘not you’ without it being needlessly rude. 

“Not musicians? You don’t want to take your work home with you?”

“No, it’s not that. I… promise you won’t judge me?”

Steve shrugs.

“Well, you know Motley Crue? I…”

“Oh my god.”

“...had a bit of a thing with Tommy.”

“But he’s so…” Steve’s hungover brain fishes around for a polite term before giving up and choosing the insulting but accurate one, “...stupid!”

He looks genuinely aghast and Dani can’t be offended because, well for starters it’s true, but also because it’s too funny. 

“I KNOW! That’s THE WHOLE POINT! He’s simple, straightforward. It’s restful. If I went out with someone like, well someone like you, it would be too complicated. You’d have my angst, your angst… can you imagine how much time you’d spend talking each other down off the ledge…”

“I don’t have angst!”

Dani laughs, and then quickly stops herself when she sees his wounded expression.

“Oh honey. Do you remember what we talked about last night? When the others had moved on to truth or dare?”

“Bits. Not everything. Not clearly.”

“Well we talked about… our stuff… our brain stuff… depression, anxiety… all that jazz…”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, “Oh god.”

“It’s okay. I understand. Believe me, I’m right there with you.”

“I just never learn to keep my fucking mouth shut.” He rubs his hand across his face. “You won’t… tell anyone will you? You won’t write about me?”

“Of course not. Just between us.”

“Can you just pretend it never happened? That I never said anything?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want. But… it’s sort of nice, isn’t it, to have someone else who knows what it’s like… to be people like us trying to exist in this crazy world?” She reaches out her hand and tentatively rubs his shoulder. No screaming this time. 

A wan smile flits across his face and he reaches up and pats her hand. For a second their eyes meet before Dani scrunches her nose self-consciously and looks away. 

“Okay. So, err, I guess we need to work out how to get you back to your room?”

“Shit, what time is it?” He looks at his watch. “Oh god, I’m in so much trouble! Help me!”

“Okay, don’t freak out… umm…” Her eyes flick around the room before settling back on Steve and registering what he’s wearing. “Say you went to the gym… yes, you got up early and went to the gym.”

“No one’s going to believe that, I’ve never done that in my life!”

“But they can’t prove it, so you just have to brazen it out. Right, go chuck some water over yourself so you look sweaty, I’ll look for your shoes.”

When Steve comes back out of the bathroom with damp patches and a towel slung around his neck, she hands him a hair elastic and drops his trainers in front of him. “Couldn’t find your other sock, but I’m sure no one will notice.” Eyeing him up and down, she adds, “Actually, that looks almost convincing! Do you know how to get to your room? You’re on eighth right? This is 622.”

He nods, but then looks panicked, “Key?”. He pats his pockets desperately. 

They both scan round the room until Steve, thank god, spots it glinting from a fold in the bedspread. 

“Phew! You’re all set then?”

Steve nods. “Thank you.” he murmurs, enveloping her in an awkward hug (another reason there could never be anything romantic between them, they just don’t fit - both all elbows and bony shoulders). 

“If you ever… if you ever want to… talk or whatever.”

“You too… if you need… anything.”

“So, friends?” she asks tentatively.

“Friends,” agrees Steve, his drawn face cracking into a gentle smile. 

When they open the door, they find that some joker has hung the missing sock on the doorknob in the traditional ‘don’t come a-knocking’ signal.

“Oh great. That’s me the topic of crew gossip for the next week.” 

“I will vouch for your virtue.”

Dani laughs, “I think it might be a bit late for that!” She looks left and right, “Okay, coast’s clear.”

Steve slips past her and, stuffing the errant sock into his pocket, trots off up the corridor.

Three days later, another city, another hotel, another bar, Ross hands her an envelope before scuttling away, giggling. Cautiously, being well acquainted with Mr Halfin’s sense of humour, Dani opens it. Inside is a polaroid, showing her and Steve passed out on the bed. They’re holding hands, but otherwise look as innocent as sleeping children. Messy, sprawling, slightly drooling children. Wordlessly she turns the photo to show Steve perched on the next barstool.

He groans. “We’re never going to hear the end of this are we?”

“Nope.”

[awkwardchick87]

Capturing Memories - Chapter 3

A/N - Chapter 3 is here! It was a lot of fun to write. Especially because I've bene having a hard time finding the motivation to write!

c/w - Swearing, major character death, angst.

w/c - 3213

I am crediting @the-fishing-basket for beta reading and helping me finish this chapter!

The ocean looked like it was glittering as the sun reflected across it. You were gripping your camera in one hand, the other was holding onto Drakens jacket. The newly formed gang decided they wanted to show off and have a beach day. You knew Mitsuya was proud of the work he put into the uniforms. Black Jackets, Mikey insisted they look like the jackets the first generation black dragons wore, with the same mantra on them, embroidered in gold, “I alone am the honored one” Down the right arm, Mistuya had stitched “Run hard Manji. Gang of fools'' and down the left arm was their position in the gang. The back of the jackets was the name of the gang, “Tokyo Manji Gang '' Mitsuya had even made you a special wrap, with the gang mantra and the name on it. It wasn’t a gang jacket, but if someone was familiar with Toman, they’d know you were under their protection. 

Draken stood on his bike, your grip slipping as you grabbed the side of his seat instead, “Beach Time!” he was yelling. You shot him a look as he sat back down and smiled back to you. 

“I almost fell, Ken!” you scolded him. 

Baji was driving beside Draken, “Hell yeah! This feels awesome!” His wide smile and little fang was peeking out from behind his lips. You couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

“Feel that sea breeze!” Kazutora was beside him.

“Hey, pick up the pace.” Pah chin sounded annoyed from the back of Mitsuya’s bike. 

Mitsuya sighed, “We can’t, remember? He’s too damn slow.” His foot eased off the accelerator and his bike slowed down a little. 

“Come on you guys, he loves his moped!” you spoke up for Mikey as Draken came to a stop. 

The rest of the gang followed suit and slowed to a halt, looking behind them. Mikey was puttering along on his little moped. “Mikey!” They all yelled in unison. The red moped was Mikey’s pride and joy. He insisted he didn’t need a motorcycle as he was holding out for a replica of his brother's bike, the CB250 T. The breeze barely ruffled his hair as he came over the hill at a snail’s pace compared to the rest of his friends. 

The group made it to an intersection, taking a small break, “Listen Mikey, how long are you going to rock that moped? You’re our leader. Just switch it out for a real ride already.” Draken asked. 

“Ken!” you swatted his arm, “I like it!” 

Mikey smirked at you before turning to Draken, “You shittin’ on my ride? My CB250T 50cc model, Street Hawk!” He was so proud. He had even painted a Manji on the front. 

“It’s just a damn moped. If you like it so much, why don’t you ride with Mikey instead?” Draken looked annoyed, “I know you said you don’t want to ride anything but a CB250T, but you haven’t got anyone to give one to you. Why be stubborn about it- “

“Oi Oi Oi, what do we have here?” A group of about 10 men rolled up beside you all, “We got a little pissbaby dressed like a gang member, ridin a moped over here” A man with a blond pompadour mullet looked at Mikey, laughing. He seemed to be the leader.

“Tokyo Manji Gang? Never heard of ya” another one stated.

“Where the hell did you wash up from?” A third man asked. 

Their jackets read, ‘Shonan Mermaids’ along the top and ‘Wild Demon rebels’ along the bottom. You usually kept out of most gang related things. Draken always insisted, to keep you safe. You had no idea if Draken knew who they were. Glancing around to Mitsuya, you quickly realized they did not. Baji and Kazutora had big grins on their faces and a fire behind their eyes. You knew they wanted to fight. Draken and Mitsuya both moved to step in front of you. Shielding you from the older men.

“If you brats want to play pretend, then do it at home” the third guy looked towards Draken and smirked. “Stay outta Yokohama” 

The leader grabbed a bat off the back of his bike, “Since we’re so lucky to meet, I’ll trash that moped for you.” He started walking towards Mikey “You don’t need that shit right?” 

Mikey turned, a look in his eyes that you’d never seen before. “Put on finger on my street hawk, and I’ll kill you” 

You had never seen Mikey so calm and terrifying before. He had a look in his eyes that made you believe he really could kill these men.

“Huh?” the leader stopped in his tracks, looking into Mikey’s eyes. Fear flashed across his face. “Uh, whatever.” he quickly regained the smug look on his face as he turned back towards his men and got back onto his own bike, “If we ever see you around Yokohama again, we’ll torch your bikes!” 

“Go home and study” One of them called back to you all as they sped off. 

You released the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you watched them drive away. Mitsuya looked back at you, grabbing your wrist, pulling you from your trance, “hey, y/n, are you ok?” 

You shook your head, “I’m.. I’m good. I’ve just never really liked fighting. I was worried you’d all be in trouble.” 

Draken snorted beside you, “Do I have to remind you of how we met?” 

You looked up at him and shook your head, “No. ‘m good Ken” You looked down to where Mitsuya was loosely holding on to your wrist. He let go quickly as a blush crept across his face. 

Baji and Kazutora were on the other side of Mikey’s moped, “Well, are we gonna kick their asses” Baji asked. 

“Sounds good to me” Kazutora smiled, “Since theres only like 10 of them, thats an easy win for us!” 

Mitsuya threw a leg over his bike, Pah chin was already on the back, “Forget it, they're gone already.”

“It’s all Mikey’s fault for riding that lame moped,” Draken said. 

Everyone nodded and laughed “You’ve got that right!” Baji chuckled

“What the hell you guys!” Mikey looked annoyed. You noticed his eyes were back to normal. The dark of them was muted and he didn’t look so intimidating anymore. At least not to you. 

“You ruffled his hair before getting back onto Drakens bike, “I still like your street hawk!” You smiled at Mikey. 

“See Ken-chin! Y/n said it's cool so it obviously is! Listen to your little sister” Mikey stuck his tongue out at Draken. 

“Hey wait! I didn’t say it was cool!” You replied. Everyone erupted into laughter as they started their bikes up. Mikey had a pout on his face. 

The group started towards the beach again. The highway followed the ocean. Grabbing your camera, you tapped Draken on the shoulder, signaling for him to slow down a little so you could take a picture. Lifting the camera to your face, you pointed it to the ocean and snapped what you hoped was a postcard worthy shot before turning towards Draken and snapping a picture of the group from the back of his bike, making sure to get the back of Draken and the rest of the members in the shot. 

A small pop and a sputtering sound caused everyone to slow down. “Huh? What’s up?” Draken pulled up beside Mikey, who was stopped. 

Mikey looked towards the back of his moped, “I think I’m outta gas”

Baji raised his sharp eyebrows, “No way” 

“But you’re the one who wanted to come all the way out here” Kazutora sounded irritated. 

“Mikey doesn’t think ahead at all,” Pah Chin said from behind Mitsuya. 

“Go head for a gas station then,” Mitsuya said. 

“We’re all going to the beach” Draken looked ahead. 

Mikey ignored Draken, “Looks like Toman is in some real shit now” he said grabbing his chin. 

“No, this is your problem Mikey” Kazutora couldn’t believe Mikey as Baji sounded shocked beside him. 

“Mikey.. You’re the one who decided we were going to the beach. Why didn’t you get enough.. “ You looked at him annoyed. 

“It’s not just my problem” Mikey interrupted you, “So we gotta decide who’s gonna go get gas” 

Mitsuya looked nervous “Mikey, are you about to..”

“Here it comes” Pah Chin shook his head beside him. 

“Rock paper scissors!” Mikey turned, a wide grin on his face. 

Everyone groaned. “We knew it!” 

“I’m out!” You said from Drakens bike. “I am NOT walking your street hawk to the gas station” 

Draken nodded, “Yeah, I agree. Y/n is not walking it to get gas.” 

Mitsuya was the first to agree, “There are still other gangs. We can’t send her.” Everyone else nodded.

“Obviously!” Mikey said, annoyed. “Now get ready!”

“Rock”

“Paper”

“Scissors” 

They all yelled as you chuckled in the background. Baji swore loudly, he had obviously lost. 

You slapped him on the back, giving him a comforting look, “Hey, if you’re quick enough, you can come hang out at the beach with us!” 

His head whipped around, eyebrows sharp as he huffed at you. “Shut up y/n!” 

You all got on your bikes, Mikey taking Baji’s bike so he didn’t have to leave it.

“See you later!” You waved back to Baji sarcastically, causing Kazutora to double over in laughter. 

The weather was perfect. You all changed into your swimsuits and walked out onto the beach. Draken and Mitsuya started running towards the water “Whoever swims out to the open water and back is the winner!” Draken yelled. 

Kazutora and Pah Chin settled into chairs, “Seriously? We’ve got a beach full of hot girls here” Kazutora said as he put his sunglasses on, “Now that’s what I call eye candy!” 

You swatted his arm, “Tora! Don’t be a perv!” 

He blushed beside you, “Sorry y/n” 

You settled into your chair, bringing your camera up to your face, scanning the beach through the lens, “Hey where is Mikey?” You asked. 

“I thought he was still changing?” Pah Chin replied.

“I thought he’d be done by now.” Kazutora lifted his glasses and looked around. “Maybe he’s already in the water.” 

“I’m going to go look.” You got up, placing your camera on the bags between Kazutora and Pah Chin. Jogged towards Mitsuya and Draken in the water, you couldn’t help but look at Mitsuya. He was lean, not built like Baji or Draken. A blush dusted across your cheeks as you saw Draken notice you staring. “Have you guys seen Mikey?” You asked before Draken could say anything about your staring, so he just smiled at you. 

Mitsuya walked over, “Mikey? I thought he was on the beach with you guys?” 

“No, he’s not.” You glanced back towards the beach, thinking Mikey may have been changing and he was there now, “You think something happened?” Mikey getting into a fight with another gang crossed your mind. Draken and Mitsuya could see the worried look on your face. 

“We could go back to the beach and see if we can find him?” Mitsuya noticed the way you were nervously chewing your bottom lip. 

“Let’s do that, yeah?” Draken smiled at you before he started walking towards the beach. Mitsuya put a hand on your back, helping guide you back as the blush on your cheeks grew darker. You couldn’t see his face, but Mitsuya was blushing almost darker than you. When you got back to the lounge chairs, you looked at your camera, noticing there was one more picture than you remember taking. As you scrolled through the small digital display and came to the last picture, it was Mitsuya walking you back to the beach. His face matched your bright red as his hand was resting on your lower back. Another wave of pink reached the tip of your ears as you quickly turned off the camera, not deleting the picture.You looked behind you and saw Kazutora and Pah Chin smiling at you. You playfully shoved Pah Chin and scowled at them both as Draken packed up the beach things and explained they were going to find Mikey. 

A few days later you were at the Sano house. Emma had you at the kitchen table while she was brushing your hair. Once you became her friend, you quickly grew to realize that Emma loved having a life size doll. If she wasn’t dressing you in her clothes, she was doing your hair or makeup. It was easier to just sit and let her have her fun, rather than argue with her. You had grown close to her and spent more time at the Sano house lately, since Draken was always out with the rest of the guys and Mikey, and being at the brothel alone was boring since Asami and the others were busy working. 

Shinichiro walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge, “Emma, you ever going to let y/n have a normal day here?” 

Emma stuck her tongue out at her oldest brother, “You shush Shin, y/n loves when I do her hair. Right?” She looked at you with her bright yellow eyes sparkled. 

“Of course, Emma. This is fun! I never got to do this kind of stuff when I was younger, and the girls are always busy at home!” You couldn’t help but get drawn into her excitement. “Shinichiro!” You called, drawing his attention, “We need to talk about Mikey’s birthday coming up. Would it be ok if we threw him a party here? Or even at your shop?”  

Shin tapped his finger on his chin, a smile forming on his face, “We can do it at the shop. It’ll make it easier for me to give him his gift. You guys haven’t told him have you?” He narrowed his eyes at you and Emma. 

The blonde rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to your hair, “Of course not Shin. He’d be bugging you so much, asking for it, if we had!” 

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” Shinichiro chuckled as he turned to leave, “I’m heading to the shop now. Call me when you figure out the details. I’m only providing the space, you guys need to get everything else” Shin waved his hand over his head as he left the room. 

“Ok” Emma clapped her hands, “You talk to Draken tonight and tell him to get the guys together. I’ll make him a cake.” 

“Sounds perfect to me.” you felt yourself get excited. You’d never been to a birthday party before. You wanted to make this an amazing one for Mikey. 

The day before the party, you had arranged with Emma to meet outside Shins shop right before it closed. You dialed Emma’s cell phone number, waiting to hear her excitement on the other end but the sound she made when she answered, tore your heart from your body. Deep sobs that you knew wracked her body as she tried to speak to you. You could hardly understand her “Emma, I am on my way over.” you slammed your phone shut and ran for the door. 

Draken peeked his head out of the door, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Emma is really upset. I think something happened.” You sounded scared. 

Draken grabbed his jacket and his bike keys, “Come on then, lets go.” 

When you arrived at the Sano house, Emma was outside. Her eyes were red. She had been crying for a long time. You rushed to her, bringing her into an embrace before she collapsed into your arms, sobbing. “Emma, please, what happened?” your eyes scanned her face for an answer. 

“Shin… Shin..” Emma was gasping for air.

Your stomach dropped, your eyes glazed over as you felt tears forming in the corners. “Emma” you tried to sound as calm as possible, “What about Shin?” 

“Kazutora.. Baji.. In the shop last night.” She could barely speak between breaths. “Kazutora killed Shin.” 

Your ears stopped working. It was like someone had stuffed cotton into them. Everyone's voices were muffled. Hot tears slipped down your cheeks as you watched Mikey and Draken come from inside the house. Draken dropped to the ground beside you, wrapping his arms around you. Sobs wracked your body violently. You tried to catch your breath as you felt like there was a boulder sitting on top of it. You could barely feel Drakens hand on your back as you tighten your grip around Emma. You weren’t sure how long you sat in the dirt, sobbing. 

Mikeys birthday passed. You had tried to make it a celebration for him, but it felt forced. Still, Mikey appreciated the effort. You went home that night and Draken could hear your cries, as much as you tried to bury your head into a pillow, or your blanket. 

You cried for Mikey, who looked like he hadn’t cried for Shin yet. You knew he was strong, but you could feel his deep breaths when you would hug him. Mikey had lost not only his brother, but he lost a friend that night too. You knew he felt both blessed and cursed to still have Baji in his life. 

You cried for Kazutora. He had just started to open up to you about himself. You remembered a story from a couple weeks ago, Mikey had spotted Kazutora being kidnapped, so he kicked the assailant to rescue him. Turned out it was just his father, who you learned that day, had made his life a living hell. 

You cried for Baji. He had lost one of the closest people to him. He confessed to you later that Kazutroa had taken all the blame, so Baji wouldn’t have to go to juvie. Baji who had cried in the courtroom when his mother looked at him with tear stained cheeks. Baji who had lost someone who he looked up to so much as a child, when he would visit the Sano household with Haru, only to have Shinichiro stick up for him when Takeomi would try to scold you all. 

You cried for Emma. She had already lost so much family before losing Shin. Shinichiro was one of the first people in Tokyo to really give her a chance to be herself. You knew, when you saw her face at the funeral, she regretted every sassy thing she’d ever said to him. 

You cried the most for Shinichiro, whose influence was much wider than you ever would have imagined. The funeral was packed with people, Shin’s best friends were in the front. Outside, bikes lined the street as former members of the Black Dragons, from the first generation, had come to pay their respects to the Weak King. You tried to smile when you remembered the affectionate way he would ruffle your hair right after Emma finished brushing it. Or when he would slip you both some extra money for shopping. His kindness was unparalleled. 

Finally, you cried for Toman. Mikey’s dream was just beginning and it felt like it was already starting to shatter. Small fractures forming in the friendships that bound them together. You hoped it wouldn’t end here. You felt like you had found more family.

Tag list: @berriesandcrem @mor-pheus

[whitewolfstracks]

News from funville, I guess.. I know most people are stressing about completely different things rn, but I need to vent, even if nobody reads it.

So, I'm supposed to visit a new gynaecologist tomorrow...

CW: mentions of SA, doctors, alcohol, meds, PTSD flashbacks, panic attack

I tried to go to sleep early, because I have to get up like 7 hours earlier than today, because my sleep is totally messed up. Took all my psychiatric meds and pain meds, which should help me fall asleep more easily. I also took a bunch of anxiety meds to make sure I will fall asleep. Did some somatic exercises to calm down. And I can't sleep.

What's worse, I started having flashbacks to the time I spent in a relationship with the person who took advantage of me sexually. I guess it's the fear of the pelvic exam by a person I don't know what's triggered it. Idk, I just find it absolutely incomprehensible that it's considered normal.

I have so much trauma about sex I can't stand looking at my body at some days, being reminded I'm a woman, I postpone having to take a bath, because I feel genuine disgust with my breasts. But on the other hand I don't want to. It's my body. It's just a constant reminder of what I let happen.

Sometimes, I can't wash without breaking down in tears or a panic attack. So, letting anyone so close to see my naked body is almost unthinkable to me. Let alone be touched. Especially by someone I don't know. It's just so invasive! It makes me so mad I have to go through this.

My previous gynaecologist wasn't empathetic to my struggles. She also didn't help with my period issues and downplayed my symptoms. So, my social worker has been helping me find a new one.

Now it's here, and idk if I can do it. I've been postponing an appointment with the previous one just because I was so terrified. Now I'm not only not sleeping, I'm having intrusive thoughts about the people who hurt me, and it's driving me to the point of a panic attack.

I said goodbye to my best friend a few days ago. She was the one who found me in my last abusive relationship and helped motivate me to get out of it. She helped me realise I am lesbian when I fell in love with her and that I've always been a lesbian performing compulsory heterosexuality.

Like my last friend I was in love with, I tried to be her friend for many years. Thought if I tried really, really hard, I could manage it. But I couldn't swallow my feelings. And she said she felt like I'm demanding something from her. I wish I could love differently. I can't. This is who I am.

I knew she couldn't give me what I wanted, but it didn't stop me from wanting it. And swallowing it just made me sick. I didn't demand anything. I tried to keep her boundaries as best I could. I tried to keep my space to protect myself. Which, in turn, made her feel I wasn't there for her as a friend. It couldn't work. I couldn't be her friend. We ended things.

And I feel like now without her, there's nothing shielding me from the emptiness inside. I dealt with most of the things in my past. Not those two relationships. So, it's hitting me full on rn. Triggered by that gynaecology appointment.

I just took a shot of liquor, hoping it will knock me out in combination with all the meds so I'll be able to sleep. Or at least just make me not feel and be able to pull an all-nighter because I have to get up in 5 hours. I got better at comforting myself, but these thoughts make my just want to bang the side of my head and scream, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

This is a desperate try to cope, I know. Not what I usually do. Desperate times require desperate measures? And all that..

Goodnight, I guess

[makeitmingi]

Hi sweetheart

It sounds like you're navigating through a tough period, but it's truly heartwarming that you have writing as a sanctuary to express your emotions. Remember, your feelings are valid, and it's okay to explore darker themes in your writing, especially when it helps you process your experiences and find solace.

Writing one-shots can be a beautiful way to experiment and delve into different narratives and styles. Don't worry about perfection – what matters most is that you enjoy the creative journey and pour your heart into your writing.

If you're feeling stuck on Seonghwa's storyline, try approaching it with a gentle touch. Allow yourself to explore his character with tenderness and care, and let inspiration come naturally. Sometimes, taking a step back and allowing your mind to wander can lead to unexpected bursts of creativity.

Above all, be kind to yourself during this time. Embrace moments of self-care and seek comfort in your writing and the support of those around you. Remember, your creativity flows from a place of love, and as you navigate through this journey, may you find peace and inspiration in every word you write.

I would like to share with you a little something I wrote on the days when I wanted someone to hug me

In the whirlwind of life's chaos, Seonghwa emerged as the anchor, the unwavering lighthouse guiding you through the stormy seas. His presence brought a sense of calm amidst the turmoil, a reassurance that no matter how fierce the waves crashed, you would weather them together.

With each passing day, as the weight of the world threatened to pull you under, Seonghwa's steady hand reached out, offering solace and support. His words of encouragement were like rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds, casting away the shadows of doubt and fear that threatened to consume you.

"We've faced so much together," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing melody in the chaos. "But look how far we've come. You're stronger than you realize, and I'll always be here to remind you of that."

In those quiet moments of understanding, as you nestled into the safety of his embrace, Seonghwa's love enveloped you like a warm blanket, shielding you from the harshness of the world outside. His touch was a balm to your weary soul, a reminder that you were never alone in your struggles.

Together, you forged a bond stronger than steel, a connection that transcended the trials and tribulations of life. With Seonghwa by your side, the challenges that once seemed insurmountable became mere hurdles to overcome, obstacles to conquer together.

"We make a great team," he declared, his eyes shining with unwavering determination. "No matter what life throws at us, we'll face it head-on, hand in hand."

And so you pressed on, buoyed by the love and support of your steadfast companion. In the quiet moments of shared laughter and gentle embraces, you found solace amidst the chaos, comfort in each other's arms.

For in the end, amidst life's tumultuous journey, the sweetest love stories are not found in grand gestures or extravagant displays of affection, but in the quiet moments of understanding and unwavering companionship shared between two souls intertwined in a bond forged by love. And with Seonghwa by your side, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always find strength and solace in each other's love.

wow anon, thank you for taking the time to write this out and share this with me. it means a lot to know how much love and support i have here. although i really dislike these periods of d*pression that i get, it's just something that i am trying to cope with. knowing i have such an amazing support system here really helps me push through.

yes, i'll definitely stay in tuned with what my feelings and emotions are in terms of writing, navigating from there to see what other works i draft and put out next.

maybe it'll be one shots, maybe it'll be angst... who knows...

as for the seonghwa plotline, thank you for sharing! this seonghwa series issue has been plaguing me for a while because i have the character profile and development but am still trying to work out a storyline.

right now, it's too many ideas, not enough hands to write it hahahaha but i'll get there, eventually.

[lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache]

OH imagine the angst, slow burn, repressed feelings where six is a long time (okay like 2 or 3 years) bodyguard for reader who’s a daughter of someone powerful. They’ve been having feelings for each other’s but CAN’T do anything about it especially Six since he thought it was inappropriate and all. And all walls are finally break down when something big, like big SHIT happens a group of mercenaries were send after them and now they’re on a run together… through the woods, shitty motel andddd wait for it…. THERE’S ONLY ONE BED! What could possibly go wrong?

Hi anonymous, I love you. I’m actually going to turn this into a fic, but I can’t leave such a perfect ask unanswered until it’s finished so I will bullet point some of the fun stuff!

- It is established that both have feelings for each other

- Six would never act unprofessionally because he doesn’t trust anyone else to watch over you, and if a relationship between the two of you started, he would be take away from his post

- On what seemed like a peaceful night, a group of mercenaries break into your home by blowing up the wall with all the windows

-The glass shatters and turn into projectiles from the explosion, Six dives to shield your body

- Six fights like hell, (shooting, hand to hand, knives etc.) keeping you behind him at all times, until you make it to the get away car

- You’re stunned into silence, probably in shock the whole ride

-Ending up at a motel, the two of you get the last remaining room and of course, there’s only one bed

- Six tells you to try to get some sleep, and he’ll stand guard, but his voice is wrong

- you turn to protest, but watch in horror as he struggles to keep himself upright and falls against the wall

- You usher him to the bed, supporting more than half his body weight, and start to remove his shirt (not how you fantasized about doing it, unfortunately)

- shards of glass, knife wounds and what you’re almost certain is a gunshot wound make you nauseous

- Six tells you what to grab out of his backpack and you start by pulling out the glass

- everything but the gun shot would had been treated to the best of your combined ability

- he asks for tweezers and some cleaning solution and Six literally fishes for the bullet in his abdomen right before your very eyes

- you aren’t sure when the tears started falling but watching his pained expression and he played self-surgeon nearly broke your heart.

- he gets it out and collapses backward on the bed, beyond ready for a nap

- you ask Six if he’s going to be okay and when he gives you a thumbs up you nearly want to punch him. He could have died and you tell him as much

- “give me a minute and I’ll get up” he says. You realize he’s going to let you have the now very bloody bed.

- you tell him that he’s staying right where he is and you can take the floor .

- he sits up with a grunt and you gently push him back down by the shoulders

- Six is exhausted and in pain and his eyes keep fluttering open and shut.

- “motel floor. Dirty.” Is all he manages to huff out.

- you roll your eyes, but secretly agree with him

-“Fine. We’ll just share the bed then.”

- Suddenly he’s much more alert and clears his throat, but you cut him off before he can even speak

-“Please, please don’t argue and just get some rest. I don’t want to lose you.”

- He doesn’t say anything and you slide into the bed next to him, taking his good hand and interlocking your fingers

- Neither of you are sure what this is, but you’ll just have to figure it out tomorrow.

This is just one of the many ways I would like to see a only one bed trope play out with Six, but I am working on a fic that’s very similar to this!!

[real-jane]

an olive branch

[steve rogers x reader]

summary: you’ve reached your breaking point at work and steve wants to help you find a solution. but first… pizza.

words: 2.1k

warnings: none. established relationship, no use of y/n.

a/n: thanks to @mumbles411 for this idea! Here’s the original ask: ‘There's always the old 'comforting someone after a bad day' thing. Especially if they already hate their job. I've been there and would have loved Steve or Bucky to be there for picking me up.’ enjoy! 🥰

—

You’re almost an hour late getting home, and Steve paces the living room with his phone in hand, talking himself out of calling you again. You answered the first time–hi baby, I’m so sorry, I missed my train–and then your call dropped. Likely, you were on the platform and reception was never good down there, but that isn’t much comfort to him considering you sounded so frantic.

When your key slots into the lock, Steve beats you to the punch and rips open the door. You practically fall into his arms. 

“Mmm,” you groan, burying yourself in his chest. “Never been so happy to see you.”

“Bad day?” He draws circles on your lower back.

“Awful. I feel like a broken record, and nobody is listening.” Your sniffle is unmistakable. “How do I keep doing this every day? It’s going to break me.”

“Hmm. Take your shoes off, dove. You hungry?”

“Oh god,” you sigh. Steve steadies you as you toe off your shoes. 

“You forgot to eat, huh.”

“Didn’t have time! Three people called out sick, even Pietro was taking orders. I think I could eat a whole pizza by myself.”

“Your wish is my command.” He eases your bag from your shoulder, takes your coat, and then pats your butt in the direction of the bedroom. “Get cozy, okay?” Steve chuckles as you shuffle away to do as he says, disappearing into the comfy space to find the pajamas he had laid out on the bed after doing laundry.

“How was your day, baby?” you call.

“Boring,” he replies, typing your favorite pizza order into the delivery app. “Missed you. Did laundry. Not much going on (as far as potential fieldwork) so I caught up on some paperwork.” He’s been home for longer stretches, lately, which he has enjoyed immensely, especially because he can do the frankly outrageous amount of paperwork SHIELD sends over from the comfort of your sofa, while letting daytime tv drown the street sounds outside.

“You do a lot of paperwork for being America’s Ass.”

Steve laughs. “Excuse me, this ass belongs to you.”

“Lucky me.” You lean against the doorway. When Steve glances at you, your eyes are shining with unspent tears. He confirms the food order and tosses his phone onto the sofa. He takes his time meeting you at the threshold, but he can’t help brushing his thumbs over your cheeks.

“What’s got you so sad?”

“Steve–will you be brutally honest with me?” your voice breaks, and you curl your fingers into the front of his t-shirt.

“I don’t know about ‘brutal,’ dove, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

“Am I being unreasonable? I feel like the girl who cried wolf. All my coworkers seem to agree with me, but I’m the only person willing to say something–it makes me feel like I’m overreacting, but I can’t get strung along anymore.”

“You’re in the right,” he soothes. “Do you wanna sit on the sofa? You’ve been upright all day.”

“I don’t know if my knees bend.”

“I can help.” Steve loops an arm behind your knees and lifts you. You pretend to be aghast that he would do such a thing, but you kiss his cheek. He sits down, keeping both arms wrapped around your waist. “Let me ask you a question. Yeah?”

You snuggle against his chest and nod. “Shoot.”

“What’s the worst that can happen if you quit?”

“Well… Can’t afford my half of rent, for one thing–”

“Money aside.”

“I can’t not think about money. When you grow up without it, it’s everything.”

Steve nods. He does know a thing or two about that. “Okay. You’re right. You have concerns about paying your bills, it’s a legitimate worry. What else?”

“Who’s gonna speak up if I’m not there?”

“Dove, somebody is gonna have to find their voice. It can’t be up to you to save the place.”

“...says Captain America,” you snort.

“I have a team. It’s not my sole responsibility, and I couldn’t do it if I didn’t surround myself with people who put in equal effort. Right? I’m hard to kill, but I don’t fly. I’m bad with computers, never shot an arrow in my life, and when I get angry, I just get flushed.” You giggle at that. “But you’re carrying the worries of every person you work with. It’s unsustainable. You said it yourself–it’s too much.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But we’ve all gotten so close dealing with this bullshit.”

“Are you worried they won’t talk to you if you leave?”

“I guess I am.”

“Don’t think that’s likely; for one thing, Wanda would kill you if you didn’t go to the farmer’s market with her on Tuesdays.”

You smile. “True.”

“And we can still go there for drinks anytime you want. But not pizza–”

“Because it’s not ‘real New York pie’, yeah yeah,” you parrot the phrase he’s said to you a million times. “Where did you order from, by the way?”

“Sweetheart,” he scoffs, “the only place in the city.”

You snort. “You’re such a snob.”

“What’s the worst that will happen if you stay?”

“I’ll have a mental breakdown. I was… researching outpatient programs the other night when you found me out here super late.”

Steve kisses your forehead like he might soothe all the pain from your mind. “Oh, dove. You can’t live like this.”

“I don’t know how to leave! I have to find something else first, or it doesn’t make sense–and do you know how hard it is to find a job in this fucking economy?” You swipe your hands under your eyes furiously.

“Or–no, listen.” He kisses you, leveling his eyes with yours. You nod, but tears stream down your face. “Or… you put in your two weeks. We take a month to get you rested up. Go to a Yankees game or two. And then you can choose something which isn’t gonna drain the life out of you.”

“I don’t have enough saved up.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got you covered.”

“No, Steven–”

He tips your chin up. “Stop. I’m not keeping score, here. You’re my girl, this is what people do when they have a life together.”

You hug him so tight. “You’re sure.”

He wraps you in his arms. “Yes. And… if you realize what would make you the most happy is to sit on the balcony and paint neon cityscapes, while drinking Celestial Seasonings tea out of business, then I support you.”

“Nooo–I’m not gonna sit around while you have to do the work to pay for our life!”

“You contribute in other ways. I’d kill every plant in this place if it weren’t for you.”

“What would America say if they knew you fell for a plant lady?”

“I am asked about you in every interview, and have been since you came to the Smithsonian opening with me. I think America’s in love with you, too.”

“Awe,” you grin, pressing your fingers into his scalp with a loving scritch. “I don’t think I can make a decision tonight.”

“Perfectly reasonable. No rush. You want a bath?”

You appear genuinely conflicted for choice. “But… pizza.”

“Bath-pizza?”

You narrow your eyes. “I can’t decide if you’re brilliant or not.”

“One way to find out.” He kisses your temple. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“I’m so sorry it’s been bad for this long. It’s terrible, and you don’t deserve it.”

You bite your lip. “Thank you, baby.”

“Why are you thanking me, huh? I’m right.” When he grins, you kiss him in annoyance. He loves when you do that, like you can’t let him get another word out so you seal his mouth with yours. What a punishment.

He carries you into the washroom and sets you on the counter, promptly handing you a sheet mask from your basket, and holding up two different bags of scented bath salts for you to pick between. You point, and he nods approvingly. He starts the bath water, and the buzzer sounds.

“Dinner!” You sprint for the button, but he’s faster; Steve catches your hips and slides between you and the front door.

“Get your butt in the bathtub, ma’am. Or I won’t hand-feed you pepperonis like a princess.”

“I missed the part where that was on offer,” you cackle. “But if I go get it, I’ll be able to eat all the olives off the top by the time I get back, so you won’t be disgusted by my taste in toppings.”

“You don’t know what I ordered. Maybe I got Canadian bacon.”

“I think that’s considered treason.”

“Get!” He spins you around and presses the button beside the door for the intercom. “Hi, if you wait inside I’ll bring you some cash.”

“Cool, thanks man!” The delivery driver is in for a great surprise.

Steve kisses the curve of your neck. “If you’re not up to your eyeballs in bubbles when I get back, I’m gonna eat all your olives myself.”

“Big talk from someone allergic to them.”

“Don’t push me.” He nips your earlobe, making you yelp.

“Fine! Be nice to me! See if I care.” You stick your tongue out at him, and leap away when he attempts to pinch your ass in retaliation. He can’t help the full-hearted laugh when you peek at him around the doorway innocently. “Just checking!” you coo. 

–

If anyone knew Captain America sat on his washroom floor, feeding his girlfriend a pizza he is most definitely allergic to, they’d probably believe it. Steve is nothing if not predictable, but he doesn’t mind being known for something he takes great pride in. A lot of what he does is duty, but bringing a smile to your face and easing your burden is something which brings him inordinate joy. You make all that pressure go away. With you, he is just a native New Yorker with strong opinions about crust style, who kills plants with almost impressive frequency and overtips delivery drivers by hundreds of dollars. So–not ordinary, but he doesn’t have to pretend on days he is down, if he wakes up next to your sweet face. But when you are hurting, he hurts by proxy. 

That night, he makes sure you have all the pizza you want (pepperoni by pepperoni, being very careful to avoid the olives and washing his hands thoroughly), while you slowly turn into a prune. Once you are tucked into bed and softly snoring, he eats his own pie sitting on the floor in the hallway outside your shared bedroom, and he ponders something he hasn’t thought about in a long time:

What if he retires? 

Sometimes when you wake up and can't fall back asleep, he rubs your back and tells you hypotheticals about a little cottage in the woods with a big garden, where you wouldn’t have to do anything but figure out how many carrots to use for dinner and get good at knitting. It always puts you right to sleep with a smile. Why does it have to be a pipe dream?

When he crawls into bed beside you, and your eyes open a bit, he kisses your brow. 

“Hi,” you murmur against his chest.

“Hello. You okay?”

“Mmm.” You loop your arm under his so you can pull him even closer. Steve slips his legs between yours. “You’re very comforting.”

“Yeah?” He smiles against your hair.

“Yep. Never make me question lovin’ me.”

“Sleep, sweetheart. ‘M not going anywhere.”

You smash your cheek into his skin and you’re quiet for a minute. He almost misses your little declaration. “Gonna quit.”

“When?”

“T’morrow.”

“I’ll pick you up from work on the bike. Go out in style?”

You lift your head up enough to give him a blissful, sleepy smile. “Yes please.”

He presses his lips over yours gently. “I’ll be there.”

“Come in uniform?” 

“You really want them to feel bad,” he chuckles.

“Nah. I just like lookin’ at ya in spandex.”

“You can have that anytime.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Sure. If you want.” 

You return his gentle kiss. “Love you.”

“I love you, too, dove.”

Now, he has to find a cottage for the sweetest woman he’s ever known. Because you only make decisions like this when you’ve weighed all your options, and he wants to give you a more attractive alternative than another dead end job. Something to keep the sunshine in your cheeks, where you don’t spend a portion of your life worrying about him coming home safe.

Sam’s ready for the shield. You’re ready to quit your job. It’s time for Steve to make the call about his future, too… where he can put you in a bubble bath every night, and maybe join you, just because. The best possible life for his dove.

–

thanks for reading!

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