#im not proud of razor’s-

[thefrogdalorian]

Hi friends!

I've been a bit quiet on here recently because I've been having A Week and my driving test is now ✨t o m o r r o w✨ and I am FREAKING out about it asdhgdjh. I feel like I'm coming down with a cold too, but hopefully I can pass!! 🥺

I enjoyed the finale of TBB but I was far too stressed to really Perceive much of it so I think I definitely need a rewatch this weekend when my head is back down here on Earth again. 

Any good vibes for tomorrow would be appreciated! I hope when it comes to my manoeuvres I can reach past all the Din Djarin brainrot up there in my big ol' head, keep calm and remember what I've been taught. I feel like I can pass, just hope my nerves don't get the better of me!

I hope normal service will be resumed very soon and I'll be back to filling up your dashboards with ramblings about The Tin Can Man.

Hope you're all having a nice week! 

Love, Spud 🐸🩷

[mightiermarvel]

I also didn't think my first piece of wrestling fanart would be Scott Hall

[bytemycupcakes]

Oh shit Adopted au Razor is back motherfuckers!

he's a tcg card this time :)

Finally got more motivation to edit more of him 😭

original card under cut

[happiinesstheory]

drawing me and my friends' genshin mains

[bunnyb34r]

There's been a crusty dry patch of skin in the crease where my nose folds and I keep picking at it with hopes that it either gets better and goes back to normal instantly, or that it's a perpetual skin flaking machine bc it's VERY satisfying to scratch off

[b0mblover]

It’ll be Okay in the End

By: J

cw; selfharm, generally negative thoughts, blood (etc everything that comes with sh)

lopt essentially has a silent breakdown and mason comforts him or smth idk im not good at summeries,

[Note; this was wrote out of my own desperation for comfort, not romanizing sh, i do not encourage or believe anyone should do this to themselves, seek help.]

i uh, actually had a easier time writing this than most things, probably because ive been essentially replaying this whole scene in my head for literal years! i for once wasnt upset when i wrote this, i was very tired tho! uh i have alot more to say but hawaii part ii lopt is taking over my brain again, so im gonna go do that! have fun with my depressed 100% projected loptson ig!

•

lopt was in ‘his’ so called room, scribbling away at some paper,

mason was rather concerned, hearing frustrated noises constantly, what sounded like pencils breaking,

they had been “partners” officially for 3 months now, mason had always cared about lopt to an extent, partner or not, but this was… odd.

sure lopt had his own life, hobbies, but he didnt care to keep /that/ much from mason, especially whenever he asked,

but, this was different.

lopt had came home from wherever the fuck he was- hell if mason knew details- annoyed, he stormed off to some room, when mason tried to ask what was wrong he only blew him off saying that “its none of your fucking business, you wouldnt get it anyways”

•

lopt was scribbling away in his notepad, despite being a god and literally being immortal, he still couldnt force creativity to come to him,

it was his fifth time trying,

most drawings resulted in poorly scribbled out lines,

he had went out to try and get inspiration for “some project” though he didnt really /have/ anything to work on, starting a new drawing always seemed to be a block for him,

he sat down his broken (6b) pencil, (rather violently but he didnt want to acknowledge that) and got up, he knew somewhere in him, that he needed a break, he walked out of his room to get water, but his mind wouldnt leave him alone,

constant thoughts about how awful his art was spewed around

“youre not “talented”, youre worthless”

“itd be better to quit now”

“just rip up the damn papers, theyre ugly anyways”

“imagine- you could just go and alleviate all this pain, just with that knife-“

he tried to push down his thoughts,

grabbing a cup from the cabinet and filling it with water,

the knives in the butcher block seemed so… tempting,

most of him /knew/ that he shouldnt- that it was wrong, that mason would be disappointed- disgusted, if he found out about his thoughts,

but, he couldnt help it,

all memories of the nights he got up from their bed to take part in something that would disgust his partner made him sick.

questions runned through his head as he sipped on his water, leaning onto the counter

“would he be sad?”

“would he care?”

“would he call me names?”

“tell me how pathetic i am?”

“leave me?”

“would he hate me?”

“tell me how ugly my body is”

“tell me how he hates the scars”

“tell me just how much he despises me”

the voices grew louder wither every question,

saying that he wanted mason to hate him,

that he did hate him,

in the very back of lopts mind, in the tiniest corner, he knew it all wasnt true, that he was being dramatic over nothing,

but even then, the memories of all the times he loved someone- all the times he didnt question if they hated him, what they all said to him,

he felt like doubting himself was the only way to have them not leave,

to not abandon him,

he took a deep breath before sighing, realizing his cup was empty, he decided that he had enough of a “break” and that he needed to start “working” again,

•

mason was sitting on the couch, some random tv show playing for background noise, when lopt wasnt “there” it was almost too quiet, in a way, mason had grown to love how loud and chaotic the house was with lopt- even if thery were the only two people in it.

he seen lopt walk into the kitchen for around 8~ minutes before he trudged his way into his room once more,

he didnt know excatly as to what lopt was doing,

granted whatever it was had to have been important, he didnt usually spend 3+ hours in a room alone silently, it started to make him worry, was lopt sick? just why did he seem so upset when he came home? is he okay? did he hurt himself?

•

lopt sat down at his desk once more, staring at the scribbled page, a sphere, he couldnt figure out how to shade it properly on the background,

he sighed turning his attention to the top left drawer,

he stood up walking over to his dresser, pulling out another drawer, he took out a roll of bandages, and some tissues, 

he knew that he shouldnt, that it was essentially pointless, that hed feel better soon enough,

but that fear crept back up,

“what about last time you didnt? remember? it got only worse because you didnt”

he rubbed the sides of his nose bridge, the voices were annoying, they knew that he was gonna, even without the encouragement.

he sat back down at his desk, sitting the tissues to his right and the badages to his left before pulling out the left hand drawer,

he rummaged through it, various miscellaneous items, before coming across a box,

a red box, seemingly quiet old, with yellow letters reading “do it” on the front,

he took one out, ‘unwrapping’ the razor blade,

straight edge,

he stared at it, contemplating just what hes doing with his life,

“i cant draw, i cant write, i cant make people happy, i cant make music, i can only recite the tales others have told, im worthless, im doless, i will never amount to anything or anyone in my life, god or not, human or not, this is deserved, if i cannot create, then i at lease deserve to bleed”

a mantra he told himself, attempting to poorly justify his actions,

•

mason listened at the door, hearing nothing, no pencil, no walking, almost no breathing, he didnt know everything about lopt, sure, but he knew that he didnt look well off, and what boyfriend would he be to his partner if he wasnt concerned?

they had an unspoken rule to always at least knock before walking into the others space, granted they had seen every part of each other, it was just a courtesy they had, 

though, something felt off,

mason felt as if he shouldnt knock, that lopt was hiding something,

all those sleepless nights where lopt comforted him abundantly, he had felt him get up, a few times he had caught lopt in the basement, he didnt know just what he was doing, he always hid something,

he didnt want to break any boundaries sure, thatd be rude and disrespectful, but, he had a weird feeling in his gut that it was for lopts own saftey,

“please forgive me for this” he muttered to himself,

sharply inhaling before opening the door,

simply greeted by lopts back.

•

lopt heard the door open, he had three lines going diagonally down his right arm, bleeding, he fumbled the razor, dropping it onto the floor, it had gotten rather dark by now, so it probably wouldnt be seen, he attempted to get the tissues, he had always been a great liar,

“ill just say i accidentally cut myself, if he asks what i was doing with a weapon, ill deflect and say i was being stupid”

it seems like he fumbled the tissues for a bit too long.

“hey”

mason said over his shoulder,

he moved his left hand to cover the cuts,

“o-oh, hey, whats wrong?”

“hm, well, i mean nothing? i guess, what are you doing?”

“i- you guess? is something the matter?”

mason had noticed he was oddly covering his forearm,

“you ignored my question.”

“huh?”

“i asked what youre doing.”

masons tone sounded alot more pissed off, granted he wasnt, just concered more than anything,

“o-oh i um, ok dont laugh but uh- i was trying to draw”

“and why are you covering your arm? are you hurt?”

“i- huh? wh- no, no! i uh, may have also been playing with a blade and accidentally scraped myself, nothing much”

“let me see”

“what?”

“let me see your injury”

lopt was taken aback, all of his previous partners never asked to see his wounds, scars sure but never his wounds, even if they werent self inflicted, he was shocked, he hadnt planned for this.

“i- i assure you dear, it isnt anything to worry about-“

“let me see it. are you hiding something?”

in that moment lopt felt small, like a child almost, weak, helpless, he didnt know how he could get out of this without mason either finding out or being suspicious of him.

“i- here”

lopt moved his left arm to mason, there were a few small cuts on it, though rather old looking,

lopt moved his right arm off the table, into the shadows to not call attention to it.

“uh huh, now the other?”

lopt seen his eternal life flash before his very eyes.

his mind went on autopilot and raised his right arm, he usually would fight but, he knew itd be pointless, mason would just worry more, thus making him keep a closer eye on lopt, he didnt want to feel selfish, not like that,

“oh my, i- oh my god,”

mason was shocked, he had suspected that lopt had hurt himself in the past, granted the scars,

but, he didnt think he still did it, sure the weird behavior, but it never really dawned on him until that moment.

.

mason had brought (more like dragged) lopt to the bathroom, running the slits under cool water, putting pressure to hopefully get the bleeding under control, he opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out another roll of bandages,

he stood behind lopt washing the blood off, still slightly in shock,

“why?”

“huh?”

“why do you do this?”

masom questioned, fully aware of the long list lopt was about to give out,

“i- well, i dunno..”

lopts voice trailed off before starting again,

“i mean, i dont even know why i do this, it just feels good? like i can do something right? it makes me feel like im not worthless”

mason hummed for a second before choosing his words

“do you feel normally that youre worthless?”

“i guess so, i dont know why, i have the best boyfriend, my life is great, i just dont know..”

“mmhm, what were you trying to draw?”

“i dont know. does it matter?”

lopt shot back

“well, you seemed frustrated at it, so im sure it’s important to you yeah? so then it’s important to me”

mason brought his hands around lopts wrist, rubbing it slightly attempting to calm him down

“i- i dont know, i just, i feel frustrated, so i tried to draw, but drawing makes me feel more frustrated, so i did this- an- and n-now-“

lopt began to stutter, tears swelling up in his eyes, mason had only seen him cry on a few occasions,

“shh- shh its okay, i know what youre saying, breath, okay?”

lopt inhaled deeply, feeling masons left hand move to wipe the tears away,

he didnt even know why he was crying,

mason bandaged lopts arm slightly tight, 

“shh, now, you wanna talk about this? or wait a little bit longer to calm down?”

“c-calm down”

“alright alright, shh youre okay, see?”

mason lead lopt into his bedroom, taking lopts hand under the covers as he had done for him every sleepless night,

lopt could feel his eyelids starting to droop, the warmth of his boyfriend comforting him, the love of his boyfriend comforting him,

he shoved his head into masons chest, finding it to be the most comfortable spot out of the entire bed,

mason ruffled his hair, slowly stroking his hand on his neck,

“y’know, you may be a god,

and you may be immortal, but,

ill be with you for as long as you need, in this life and after”

lopt didnt respond, just slightly nodded his head before burrying it deeper into masons chest, 

maybe tonight wasnt so bad after all,

spending time with mason- no, his boyfriend, was never bad.

lopt faded in and out of sleep, trying to fight the melatonin being produced, just to feel the sweet touch of his boyfriends skin, before he completely felt himself drift away, he heard him speak,

“I love you, i love you so much, never forget that, in this life and the next, ill always love you, lopt.”

[eldrith]

˗ˏˋ your lips, my lips ˎˊ˗ Jacaerys Velaryon

jacaerys velaryon x fem!wife!reader words: 5.6k synopsis: you remind Jacaerys that there is no shame in accepting help, especially from his wife. notes: this idea came to me in a fever dream the other day idek. this can be read as an au, it is implied that the dance happened but that luke is alive so idk. as i always say: do what you love. i think jace can be happy for a bit, as a treat. this is honestly like 3k fluff and 2k smut lol. pls lmk what you think <3 warnings: canon-typical injury. jace is so horny and in love that he becomes a poet! light dirty talk(mostly in valyrian bc jace is shy), very very brief breeding kink, slightly sub!jace, praise kink (mutual), slight size kink, hair pulling, pussy whipped jace, PiV creampie, reader rides him. valyrian is translated at the end (author uses a translator so if its wrong im sorry). feedback is appreciated<3 requests open. masterlist.

SHADOWS DANCE. 

Toes cold upon empty stone, you pad across a corridor; short, illuminated in torchlight. A path you’ve taken many times. 

Worry twists your fingers together, toying as you watch the silhouette of your night shift swish upon the contours of the wall. Chamber doors which connect the small hall to your own are open; an afterthought, perhaps, though your husband quite often prefers to slumber with his door to yours drawn open. 

He is hurting. 

Not in any dire way, not by far. Burns, the whispers had reached your ears - from maester to house worker to ladies in wait - burns, across the Prince’s palms; some troubles while handling dragonfire. You have been alive for long enough to have seen dragons dance, see the flesh melt from bones of even those coursing with Valyrian blood in their veins. You cannot imagine the pain of it, lying marred in his palms. 

The maester has seen worse, you are told. He is not in too much pain, to your relief - he is neither sick nor hurting but rather unable to perform any tasks, no matter how menial; something you know your husband will not take lightly. Only a few paces and you reach his chambers, taking in the sandalwood and cedar smoking in small dipped sticks; a favor of his mothers, he told you once. He’s taken to them recently, to the comforting scent; as have you.  

Feet move slowly into the archway; his chambers are always so much warmer than your own. Furs, thicker - bed, more comfortable, hearth, drawn larger. Though it is more likely to do with the company. 

Your husband stands before the mirror of his chambers, his back upon you. 

You watch for a moment - his brows, furrowed in the reflection, a razor is held rather uncertainly in a bandaged grasp. A pang through your stomach at the sight of the gauze, restricting his fingers; a kind glow of candlelight dances across concentrated eyes, once-steady hands trembling as he holds the blade against his cheek, head tilted back. 

Slow breaths - your chest moves with his, as it seems to do more and more these days; a drag of a blade, the wobbling of which sets your teeth upon edge. Such a mundane chore, shaving: yet you know just as most how painful the burns of dragons may be upon flesh.

Your sweet husband is a proud soul; you can almost picture him, resolutely dismissing any offers of assistance before he readied himself for the night. Struggling to wet the razor, to lift it upon his face, yet doing so with a bristling determination. You linger, a specter in the doorway, fingers tracing the stone arch beside you as he works. Slow, determined.  

His chest rises and falls beneath the simple tunic; unlaced, revealing the glimpse of skin awaiting beneath as he clenches his jaw, metal dragging against porcelain. 

Though as soon as you draw a breath, a hiss from him - the razor has slipped, blood thinning in a bloom upon his cheek. Stark against such pale skin. He curses softly, thick brows knitting in some helplessness as his wounded fingers, shaking in pain or perhaps frustration, brush and come away crimson. 

You step forward immediately, concern overriding all hesitations and shyness you’d felt previously.

"Jacaerys," your voice, soft and scarcely a whisper, carries through the room. Through the mirror your husband looks up, his eyes meeting yours. 

A whisper of surprise in his visage that melts into some shade of embarrassment as he turns to you. Your name, falling from his plush lips, bitten in previous exasperation. His voice is warm, guilty. "I did not wish to wake you."

You shake your head softly - he’d not made a single sound since you returned from your evening duties to retire. You learned of his injuries through scarce whispers in the corners of your chamber, not from any loud disruptions from within his own. 

 Ignoring his words, you move closer - feet light, heart aching for his felt helplessness; A crimson tear beads out of the thin cut upon the cut on his cheek. You tilt your head to look into the warmth of his eyes. "You should not be doing this with your injuries," you chide, nodding to the strips of bandage around his palms.

A sigh from him, gentle nod as he looks down upon your expression. "I did not wish to trouble anyone," you find a touch of frustration still coloring his voice, but are not foolish enough to believe an ounce of it could ever be directed towards you. "I am not so helpless." he prepends with a clenched jaw. 

Nodding, you gently take the razor from his loose grip. "No, you are not.” You agree gently, “Sit.” 

You guide him to the table aside the mirror with light hands. He murmurs your name; it slips through his lips like honey. "I do not wish to burden you. It is late, I would not want to keep you awake." 

You cannot help the surge of affection; your husband, so doting, thoughtful. A gentle touch to his cheek, your fingers grazing just under the fresh cut as you swipe away the red. "Sleep can wait.” Your voice is just as gentle as his own. “And you are not a burden; You are my husband. Your troubles are mine."

He sighs, a small appreciative smile growing upon his lips. "I resent being unable to tend to myself." he admits sheepishly.

You run your hands gently over his palm, tracing gently over where gauze conceals marred flesh. “You must heal fully so you might be of aid again soon.” You pull away, crossing the room to retrieve the cloth, oils, and small bowl of water; “In the meantime, there is no shame in accepting help. Especially not from your wife."

His eyes follow you upon your return, your sleep gown swishing against the quiet of the apartments; aware of the semi-sheerness of the fabric, you feel yourself flush. His smile is appreciative.

The bowl makes a small noise as you place it upon the table - you watch the soft illumination of your reflection ripple in the water. “I am a lucky man.” He says, as if to himself; you resist the shy smile that grows upon your lips, looking away from the contents of the bowl and shaking your head gently. He does not seem prepared to leave it be, though: “I scarcely know how I came to deserve someone as wonderful as you.” 

He prefers it like this, you’ve learned; kindness, candor, sweet admissions - flushed cheeks, soft smiles. A true marriage, one being built with respect, with love. And still, moons after your union - every compliment you pay your husband he seems to return tenfold. 

It is content, quiet against the spitting of embers in the hearth as you bend before him, seeking an angle safe enough to press the blade to his skin. A soft conversation, scarcely more than whispers in the eve - though you become weary at the prospect of a safe approach. 

His legs spread wide as he watches you pace - expression somewhere between an amusement and puzzle; You let out a breath in a small huff as you draw a decision.

Your hand falls first onto his shoulder - a steadying grip as you slowly slide onto his lap, positioning yourself to see his face clearly; Jacaerys, with eyes widened in surprise and arms instinctively rising to hold you steady. Despite his injuries, his touch is firm, wrists pressing to you where hands cannot. 

A thick swallow within his throat that you steadfastly ignore. 

The touch of his arms around you, of your thighs straddling his lap - you burn, clearing your throat. Your voice comes, barely more than a breath. "Is this- alright?"

His lips, parted with the proximity, flutter before he finds words. “Y-yes. More than alright.”

With a small grin, you school yourself; pouring the oils upon your palms, you begin to smooth the ointment upon his skin. Cheeks, down the short shadow of stubble he has so resigned to eliminate this evening. A sharp jaw, a strong chin, plush lips. His breath is scarcely more than puffs against your cheeks as you press gently into his jaw muscle; his eyelashes flutter closed. 

When you bring the blade to his skin, it is with no hesitation he tilts his head for you; eyeing you through lids, the apple of his cheeks warm in the light. You release a short breath and begin to shave him with slow, careful strokes. Jacaerys remains still, his eyes fixed - you drag the blade with light pressure, a relief building in you as you begin to effectively remove shadows from his cheek. 

As you continue, the room grows quiet; a soft song of the gentle scrape of the blade and the crackling of the fire. Your heart may have fluttered ceaselessly had you been any less focused on ensuring you do not hurt him; Though there is no doubt - a very handsome man he is, and a very lucky wife he makes you. 

“How did you learn such a skill?” His voice, curious as you tilt his jaw slightly. You do not pull your eyes from your task as you hum gently, aware of his warm stare.

“I’ve never done it before,” you admit, tilting your head along with him, focused on the glide of the blade against the bristled shadow of his jaw. “Though I watched my lord father do it many times. He’d often have me sing to my younger brothers before they were put to chamber - he tended to perform tasks as such when I did so. They used to love watching him.”

Jace nods contentedly, humming at your recount. "Lucerys used to watch me when he was younger, as well.” It seems at the memory he laughs gently - the motion stunted as you hold his face in your grip. “One day he decided he was old enough to give it a try. He sneaked into my chambers and took up my razor."

You can't help but smile at the image, lifting a brow. "And what came of it?"

You sit back, preoccupied with the story - your hand wipes the blade upon the rag beside you, meeting his warm gaze as his grin widens. "I found him standing before the mirror, razor in hand.” A flicker of his gaze to the mirror behind you before he finds you once more. “I tried to warn him, but he was too stubborn to heed me. So, I stood back and simply watched."

Your eyes widen, lips parting in mild amusement. "You let him to do it alone?"

He chuckles lightly, tongue prodding his lower lip. "I thought it best he learn a lesson.” His arms unconsciously pull you closer, readjusting your position upon his lap. You swallow down the warmth at such casual intimacy between he and you. “He managed a few strokes, was quite proud of himself, until... he nicked his lip." A small gesture with his jaw towards your own, his eyes focused on the bottom lip that has found itself caught between your teeth. 

You lift your brows, your hand pausing as it rinses the blade in water. "Was he quite hurt?"

"No, just a small cut," Jacaerys soothes, laughter bubbling up again, eyes tearing from your lips up to your own warm gaze; your stomach flutters at the sound and you can no longer suppress a small giggle of your own. "But the look on his face! He was so indignant, I reckon more in his failure than the pain. He turned to me, lip trembling, and demanded to know why I hadn't helped him."

You swat his shoulder gently with the rag, trying to suppress your own laughter. "You are incorrigible, Jace. You laugh at your brother's misfortune?" You chide, teasing; He shrugs, still grinning as his eyes trace over your face warmly. 

"It was a valuable lesson, one I had to learn myself once. Besides, he forgave me soon enough. I helped him finish shaving properly and patched him up. We've laughed about it many times since." His voice is soft against the crackle of flame, adjusting his posture slightly under your weight.

You laugh gently, the image of a young Jace and Luke pulling a grin to your lips. "You two are quite the pair."

Jacaerys’ eyes soften as he hums in agreement. "I have to let him make a fool of himself now and then." 

He’s taken to moving a stray thumb - one not restricted with salves nor gauze - upon the line of your spine. A gentle ghost of affection as you shake your head fondly at him. 

You hum, resuming your efforts, now moving towards his chin with a gentle grasp. "Well, just be glad I am here to ensure you do not cut yourself again. I should not trust you alone with a razor any longer." You tease, wrinkling your nose as you fix him with a faux stern stare. 

Jace’s laugh is rich, warm. "You wound me, wife.”

The gentle laughter between you trails off amiably as you move your focus upon his upper lip; you, dutifully focused, worried of your own skills, knowing you could very easily slip and cut him - he, enduring your hand around his chin, eyes ceaseless upon your face as you move him how you please. 

You finish the last stroke, setting the blade aside; his eyes are pools; sunlit amber. The cloth is wettened - you string it out and gently press it to his skin, wiping away the remnants of shaving oil and the small trail of blood from his previous nick. 

Jace’s breaths rise and fall languidly with your own in the quiet of the chamber. Your movements are slow, tender; your focus entirely on him, ignoring the heat growing in your abdomen, his muscles flexing beneath you. A shift in the calm of the room; a once placated, gentle silence has grown into a thick, tense quiet - enunciated through short puffs of breath and the slow shifting of your bodies as you clean him.

A lean closer, his finger idly trailing your hip as much as the bandage might permit - you inspect his soft skin, the scent of the oils clouding your mind; lavender, cedar, sandalwood. Incense sticks have lost ember in the corner, the ocean rolling in tides upon the distant shores. You find no missed stubble, only undeniable affection in his eyes; you’ve begun to trace the cloth rather idly along his cheek, eyes rising to find his own gaze stuck upon your lips. Echoes of a house attendant walking out in the halls.

“Done,” You whisper, making no effort to rise from his lap; the warmth that has only grown has begun to make you sweat, that desire, still so new, growing between you. He shifts beneath you, staring blatantly, speaking no words. Worry flickers - a foolish thing, to worry when you’re with him - yet you still murmur your words. "Have I overstepped?” you ask softly, gaze flickering down to his plush, parted lips, watching as he shakes his head vehemently.

"Never," he breathes, "I’m merely admiring your beauty."

Heat. Jacaerys has never, not even in the earliest days of your betrothal, hesitated to praise you for your beauty, intelligence, wit, or heart; yet it still sets your mind dizzy each time. You send him a coy smile, hiding the flush of your cheeks under his compliment, “You only say such things because of the blade in my hand,” You tease. 

Expecting a retort from your sharp husband, your eyes flicker to his; he grins at your jest, whispering, “I would speak such words even if you held nothing but air.” 

His gaze roves over the heat of your cheeks, the flutter of your lashes. Want grows hot within you; to be seen, to be so cherished, it is more than you could wish. Jacaerys stirs your heart like no other could. You do not miss when he leans forward slightly, into your own space; the longing in his gaze is rather unmistakable, and it sends a rush of thrill through you. 

Heart, singing in your chest. “Jace.” you whisper.

He breathes your name in response; a prayer. 

“What are you thinking?” You hum, your breath hitting his own; your hands fall to grasp his shoulders, fingers trailing over the crook of his neck, the ties of his tunic. 

 "I'm thinking," His hands, despite their bandages, pull your hips upon his own quite subtly - your stuttered breath, shaky at the feeling of him beneath you, arousal growing just as your own. His voice is husky, "-that I’d like to kiss you."

 A thrill in your stomach; you purse your lips against a smile of affection before closing the distance, your lips meeting his. 

Warm, soft; gentle as he always is with you - but soon in the undercurrent of the late hour, of the thin material upon your frame, you feel fever infect you. 

It comes in a tilt, sliding your nose against his own, lust coiling between your thighs; any tension of before melts, soon replaced by an urgent need to be closer. Your tongue finds the plush of his lower lip, sliding hungrily. 

He groans softly against your mouth, his injured hands pulling you tight; The faint smell of incense, an intensity of desire matching your own - your hands tangle in his hair.

A wince as you shift, his hand flexing and drawing a grunt of pain from his lips. 

You pull back instantly. 

"Jace," you murmur in concern, even as his lips chase your own, a small bridge of saliva between you two in the firelight. Your voice is breathless, filled with longing. "We shouldn't. Your hands."

He shakes his head, his lips seeking yours. "I care not," he whispers fiercely. "If you cease for my sake, I will perish."

Your eyes roll at his dramatics, though your heart flutters at such fervent words. The desire in his eyes is undeniable, and you are finding it harder to resist such pretty requests. "I do not wish to hurt you," you protest softly, though your resolve weakens with each passing moment.

He gazes at you with a mixture of tenderness and longing. “You could never hurt me. Please, let me feel you. The only pain I feel is the distance between us.”

Unbelievable, his cunning knack for dramatics.

Despite the lifted brow you send him, there is an undeniable tremor within you, your hunger growing at the lilt of his tone. Perhaps, you should feel some kind of shyness; Indeed, you’re still learning of each other. You’ve lain with Jacaerys only a few times since being wed last moon—and yet perched so firmly atop his growing arousal, you can’t help the rush of need.

“Well,” You sigh, hand gracing his soft cheek with a small look of pride, “You mustn’t beg.”

He breathes as a smirk of his own grows, “I am a prince, dōna riña. Begging is beneath me.” He murmurs, eyes aflame with that teasing craving, “but I'd gladly beg if it means I get to have you.” 

His ravenous words, mere kindle to the flame. “It is fortunate for you that I am so generous, then,” you murmur, seeking the warmth of his lips once more. He hums in agreement; a reverberation in his chest below your palms stirring a shiver through you. “Fortunate indeed,” he breathes. “Now please do not torture me any longer.” 

You pull away from his searching lips just so, watching as he chases the warmth of your breath. "If you insist," you whisper, your lips brushing against his. His breath is sharp - he dislikes being so teased when he cannot deliver it in return. "I do insist.” he murmurs, words swallowed by the surge of him, teeth and noses clashing as you exhale, stomach flipping. 

His tongue, sliding into your mouth; eager, you part lips for him. The chamber fades into shadows, a dim glow as the witness to your ardor, the only thing to hear such soft sighs and groans from you and Jacaerys. His lips leave you rather soon, peppering kisses upon the flushed skin of your neck. 

A glance behind his shoulder as you cast your neck to the side - flickering shadows, intertwined with each other in a rather sensual embrace upon the wall; Jace’s nose pressed to the heartbeat of your throat as he bites gently against your skin. 

His lips are fervent - the warmth of his breath, his chest heaving below your palms, the scent of his shaving oils - a fierce wildfire within you, consuming every thought but the touch of his body against your own.

An urge, the light pressure of his wrists, desperate to move you upon him - and then his voice, a growl. "Feel me," he breathes against your throat, pulling back so slightly to catch your gaze as his hands, light but insistent, press upon your waist. 

You respond to his urging without a thought; your hips instinctively shifting, meeting the rise of his form with an eager press. The sensation is both thrilling and intoxicating - his moan of pleasure only spurs you on, a shiver of ecstasy as you press just so upon the sensitive of your heat. 

The space between you is gone, the touch of his hands guiding your movements lightly, encouraging your slow rolling hips. The air is thick with the mingled scents of desire and embers low - you, lost in a sea of sensation. His breaths grow ragged, the intensity of his gaze never wavering as he watches you with a look of utter devotion. "Yes," he murmurs, his voice nearly breaking, "-like that, gods - let me feel every bit of you." 

At such words, your cheeks heat vividly - you surrender to the heat of the moment, your movements growing more urgent, more desperate. His breaths are hot against your cheek as you let out a small moan, toes curling as you rove your hips, chasing the heat of pleasure. 

Your movements become more frantic with each passing moment, the need to be close to him overwhelming your senses. His heart, beating as wild as a beast against your own chest; Your head grows dizzy with need, a small noise from the back of your throat as his wrists coax your hips against him. 

“Jace,” Your breath comes in puffs, cheeks hot with the incessant need to feel him within you. “I need you.” 

He hums against your mouth, tantalizing as he tilts his head, “I had not noticed.” 

So cocky; you sigh, hips ceasing slightly, hands trailing over the fabric of his night shirt, feeling the warmth of his lean muscles beneath your palms. “You tease me.” You pout; he kisses the expression away with a small grin. You insist in the absence of a response, “You are cruel, to make it so hard for me to remain composed.” His arms pull you by the small of your back in an embrace - shivers over you as you feel his hard arousal drag along the heat of your aching cunt between too many layers of clothing. 

“I would have you mad with desire, if it means knowing you are as consumed by me as I am by you.” He mutters into the shell of your ear. Your cheeks, constantly heating under his words, so effortlessly setting you afire. 

You pull back enough to trail your lips over his jaw, dropping to press a soft bite upon the skin of his neck; savoring the soft noise, near whimper, from his lips. “You speak as though you haven’t already driven me mad,” You murmur into his skin, “Though I pay it willingly; I would have it no other way.”

To wait any longer would be torture; your hands, hungry and insistent, begin to gather the skirt of your sleep gown - Jace, watching with desire burning heavy in his eyes, hands lying uselessly - the glint of frustration in his gaze is not missed; though you know he wishes to touch you, you revel in the scarce opportunity to take care of him as he does you. 

A soft smile plays upon your lips as you look into his fervent eyes, feeling the heat of his desire merge with your own; Slipping beneath his trousers, you let your fingers graze his skin just enough to drive him wild; deliberate, as slow as his own fingers often are when he finds himself between your thighs. 

His cock is heavy upon your palm; your thighs, trembling with need as you place a few languid pumps upon him. His head, falling back, hands unable to truly grasp your hips - a groan, uninhibited as his brows knit together. “You’re a vision, my love.”

The endearment sends your hips in a short buck - grinding upon his cock, your arousal finds his own; a choked moan from yourself, falling forward to his chest. Laborious sliding of your hips over his own, spreading your need and coating his cock with your desire. Fingers, twitching against your spine - your own threading through his hair. Breaths together, short huffs and unsteady inhales as you finally guide yourself to the tip of his cock. 

“Are you-” His swallow is thick, “Are you sure, love?” He has the gall to question you after such excruciating a wait - though as you stare into his eyes, a flicker, a fleeting observation; He has always taken more than enough time to prepare you to take him; it is no lie that he is rather blessed by the Father - Such memories heat your cheeks. And though you know it may sting, it does not matter to you; You would certainly welcome the sensation. You stir your hips, biting back a noise at the jolt of your sensitive clit against his cock. “Yes, Jace. And you?” You question. An insistent nod, a short groan - "Gods, yes- stop teasing me," he near whines. You conceal a small chuckle of amusement, pressing your lips soundly against him.  

And you sink onto him slowly, eyes screwing shut at the sensation - he, with a low groan, head lolling back to expose the long stretch of his neck. A sharp exhale as you lower yourself, heart slamming as you’re filled; a sating desire within you, growing as you find yourself adjusting to him. 

When you find yourself fully speared upon your husband, you let out a shuttering whimper; his fingers twitch where they lie, pupils blown wide as he gazes upon you. Your lips find his once more in hunger, whispers of moans swallowed, tongue warm as it slides into his mouth. He tastes of the anise candies he favors; a hint of wine, cherry and dark. 

He remains, hips static as you breathe through the sensation of being full of him. His lips are fervent, though any wild need to feel you around him tamped momentarily by his concern for your own comfort and pleasure. 

A distant rove of waves upon a shoreline; the memory of Jacaerys, flushed and wide-eyed the first time you shared his bed. You slowly grow accustomed to his size, the hunger boiling within you as you slowly shift, growing restless. 

And slowly, experimentally - Jacaerys’ hips push slightly up against yours. You stir at the sensation, his cock pressing a spot deep within you - a keening gasp against him, swallowing his short moan with your lips. A slow lift of your hips, feeling him press against you - your eyes flutter shut once more as a flooding of pleasure courses through you, liquid fire within your veins. 

“Gods, my love-” He nearly chokes, “J-just like that-” 

Your small gasp as you begin to rock against his pelvis, cock stirring and pressing deliciously against the deepest part of you; upon shaky legs you rise, gently allowing his cock to drag out of your hungered cunt. “Jace,” Your voice is whiny, breathless - unsure what you plan on saying otherwise, your hands slide into the curly locks, tugging gently. He is rendered unable to speak, mouth open before moving to lick the slight salt from your skin. 

A flush has grown upon your chest; your husband’s lips have found your breasts, peppering bites and lingering upon a spot just under your neckline, his groans reverberating within your skin. Steadying yourself upon him, you find a rhythm - his cock reaching the deepest parts of you, your head tilting back in true satisfaction, a heat coiling within your gut. 

And his lips, ceasing only when your fingers tug at his curls; a curve in his own spine, head falling back against the back of the chair with a groan of pleasure. Heat curls and coils, lit afire by Jacaerys and the feeling of him reaching deep within you. 

“Jace, you’re so deep-” You whisper, toes curling with the sounds of your shared desire echoing in the chamber softly. He lets out a small noise at your words, a smattering of pink across his cheeks; cock twitching with desire within you. 

The hunger calls you. Without further consideration, you snake a hand between you, down to the heat of your cunt taking him, fingers shaking as you seek your yearning bundle of nerves; His eyes, lidded as he watches you. Jacaerys, in his endless pursuit to ensure your pleasures, has always provided his fingers or tongue to bring you closer to finish - though with him injured below you, you do not mind picking up such slack yourself. 

Especially when it brings such deeply melodic sounds of need to his lips. Despite his arousal at your actions, your hand shies away - knowing whatever extension of pleasure you wish to give yourself will be no match for how he so often touches you. Your grip rises instead to steady yourself upon his shoulders, spearing yourself onto him in languid thrusts, ecstasy climbing within you like the wild of fire. 

“Look at you, ābrazȳrys.” He mutters, pupils blown in pleasure, hips canting to meet yours. Though you speak not the language, you are familiar with such a word: wife. A shudder of pleasure at his ancient tongue - of which he has whispered many words to you, most unknown.

He, the picture of the gods below you, letting out a sharp exhale in his own pleasure. His lips, slick and bright, mutter your name - at the summon your gaze finds his own, molten and hungry as your hips move together, the feeling of his cock twitching within you, reaching a spot that has your back keening.

“I’m c-close.” He whispers, a heat upon his cheeks - embarrassment, perhaps, at his eagerness. His eyes find you; you’re met with that dark gaze, regally commanding as he speaks. “Gaomagon ziry. Touch yourself, love, I want to feel you.”  

Gods save you. 

Just as your husband wishes, you drop your fingers once more with no hesitation, jolting. You do not slow your pace; thighs burning, you keen forward, whispering his name against the pulse of his throat, groaning as your fingers press further, tight circles that bring shudders of pleasure. 

“Jaesa, so pretty. Renigon aōla.” Jacaerys’ brows, knitted upwards in gratification; voice, leaking of desperation, of some kind of adulation. He quite often slips into that frantic tongue - the rush of pleasure, of ecstasy, his sharp mind rendered unable to decipher the common from the ancient tongue. You do not know the delicious words that fall from his lips, yet it does not matter - they spur you closer still towards completion. 

“Jace, I’m close,” You hiss, teeth clenched in desire; your hips, dropping upon him slower, deeper; his arms pull you closer with a groan, lips falling to nip small marks into the smooth of your neck. A moan, unbidden from his sweet lips, “Do not stop, please-” he wishes, and who are you to deny such pretty begging? 

When you hit your high of ecstasy, it is with a muffled moan of his name; into the thin linen of his tunic, legs slowing as you roll through pleasure, spasming gently around your husband. His own, quiet moan into your hair, wrists pulling you into him as he whispers, “Yes, ñuha sȳz byka ābrazȳrys, fuck-” 

A thrill within you as you ride your high, such vulgar of a word from your husband; and all, your doing. A frantic whimper from your lips into his throat as he bucks his hips up into you, chasing his own high with a soft whimper. “You feel so good, Jacaerys.” You keen, raising to his face as you feel his abdominal muscles tense beneath you; pressing your forehead to his own, you ride through your completion, heavy breaths upon each other.

Noses sliding against his, you drink his small groans, holding him close; a ghost of his lips against yours, a nip of your lip by his teeth. Long lashes fluttering, Jace finds his own high. He releases his seed into you; you feel him, his hips thrusting up into you weakly as the warmth of him spreads within you. His breath, hot against your cheek, lips chasing yours as you pull away slightly, the slight shift in position sending you both in a harmony of whimpers at the sensitivity. 

The chamber’s hearth spits and crackles; an ember lands near the floor beside the chair. It smolders out, fading slowly into darkness against the stone as you rest your cheek against Jacaerys’ chest, pleased by his gentle kisses upon your hairline.

After moments of silence, basking in your shared pleasure, you press a kiss to his chest. “Are you alright?” He asks gently, soothing over your spine with the soft of his forearms. 

You let out a shaky sigh of satisfaction as you pull back, feeling his cock within you - a fleeting thought; you hope his seed takes. He watches you, eyes warm and gentle as a shaky finger, curled in pain, wipes a stray strand of hair from your forehead - you nod, lifting your hand thumb away the bead of blood that has appeared once more on his cheek; “Yes. And you?” You wonder, pressing a kiss to the freckle upon his lip. 

His smile is the kind that makes your heart skip beats. “Always.” 

translations; dōna riña - sweet girl

ābrazȳrys - wife

Gaomagon ziry - do it

Jaesa - goddess, holy/divine woman

Renigon aōla - touch yourself

ñuha sȳz byka ābrazȳrys - my good little wife

taglist: @bitchydragonparadisee @lukehughes43 @rhea-ripley @jottositto @chloe-petrichors @elaena-aerrin @smurfelle @greenvita @alyssa-dayne

[zaephix]

XOXO, kiss me, dont say no! / / genshin and star rail men . . .

the various ways they kiss you throughout your relationship <3

warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive in general but rlly suggestive on the last one lolz

w/c: .774k

author's note: this is lazy ash sorry but ive been so unmotivated recently its crazy also super random but dont let my blog theme deceive u my fav colors r pink and orange im js too lazy to change it LMAO

he opts for more chaste kisses, kisses that are shared between the two of you in passing. forehead kisses that happen between the two of you as he brings you your coffee for the day, kisses on the cheek as he has one hand on your waist to get past you, kisses on the corner of your lips to get that one crumb off of them. they leave you excited and almost pining for the next one. he is a busy man, sure, but he'd never not make time for affection between the two of you.

diluc, ayato, alhaitham, neuvilette, thoma, kaeya, baizhu, chongyun, sunday, dr. ratio, luocha, gepard, blade, aventurine . . .

he gives you a kiss every chance he gets. on your cheek, forehead, nose, neck, and even your chin at times. he's so quick about it, always finding the most obscure places to place his lips. you can't help but reciprocate it, turning it into a game on how many you can give eachother without it being in the same place. it was only when you gave him a quick peck on the lips did he finally click in his head that he could've kissed you there all along. "oh."

venti, itto, childe, heizou, lyney, gaming, razor, kaveh, cyno, sampo, luka, jing yuan, yanqing . . .

he is a gentleman first and foremost. he checks with you by the slightest glance between the two of you before leaning down to press his lips against yours. kisses to the back of your hand, the crown of your head, the veins on your wrist... the list goes on and on. it was to the point where the simplest graze of his fingers on your skin as he fixes your clothes felt intimate. and to be honest it makes you almost fall in love with him again, your perfect gentleman.

zhongli, diluc, neuvilette, thoma, wriothesley, kazuha, ayato, welt, gepard, gallagher, luocha, argenti, dan heng . . .

he is rather the opposite, he is a tease before everything. it seems like you can never have your way with him. his lips would just barely brush with yours, his eyes looking at you with a too-proud smirk. he'd either be insanely quick or painfully slow, no in between. he knew what he was doing, and god was it driving you mad. it was just when you started giving him his own medicine did he understand how you felt, and by the end of the week he was putty in your arms, begging for more.

kaeya, childe, cyno, kaveh, venti, xingqiu, lyney, wriothesley, jiaoqiu, sampo, boothill, aventurine, dan feng, gallagher. . .

his favorite kisses are lazy kisses. kisses that require no minimum amount of effort but still leave you satisfied. he says he just prefers to take his time with you, but all that really means is that he just wants to put his lips on you wherever he can. slow drags of his mouth tickle your skin, his face buried in your neck. he especially loves it when you caress his lips with your fingers before leaning in to kiss him, the soft matress beneath you dipping as you whisper into his ears before sleep takes you both, "g'night."

alhaitham, kazuha, kaeya, scaramouche, aether, jing yuan, dr ratio, blade, welt, boothill, aventurine . . .

kisses with him somehow always feel nervous. like he's inching towards you before (awkwardly) looking away to anywhere but your face. you made him feel like a boy with his first crush, ears slightly red at the possibility of a kiss. many of these times you had to initiate them yourself, easing him into it. now that he had someone to call his own, it felt almost surreal. and unbenknownest to you, he regularly kisses you on your forehead as you're sleeping, your dreams suddenly feeling sweeter than before.

aether, scaramouche, albedo, lyney, bennett, kaveh, freminet, gorou, tighnari, xiao, dan heng, arlan, gepard, moze . . .

his kisses feel straight out of a romance drama, always tender and sickeningly sweet. and you can't help but wonder if he takes notes on your favorites. but no, this was just how he was. the way he'd hold intense eye contact before leaning in to close the gap, the way he cradled the side of your head, even the way he'd softly whisper "is this okay?" each and every time. he leaves your face and neck warm and flushed, and when you try and hide it, he gently tilts your head up with his fingers. "don't hide your face, pretty"

ayato, baizhu, diluc, zhongli, kazuha, neuvillette, venti, kaeya, thoma, argenti, boothill, jing yuan, gepard . . .

he prefers to have his kisses as few as possible, yet with the most passion as he can muster. kisses between the two of you are rare unless its initiated by you, like small gestures like forehead and cheek kisses. but there are times where even he cant deny himself of your lips, pulling you into his lap randomly out of the blue. when he does decide to take pity on the both of you, he takes your breath and soul away. they're hot, heavy, full of pent up emotion, bad or good. and by the end you two are breathing into eachother's mouth, both your eyes telling eachother to not stop.

alhaitham, albedo, scaramouche, diluc, capitano, xiao, sunday, blade, dr ratio, dan heng, dan feng, moze . . .

[emmyrosee]

'Samu thoughts you say? (๑˘︶˘๑)

Bf! Osamu is the type of man that arrives home and searches for you just to kiss your forehead and ask about your day

The type to ask everytime you come back home from anywhere if you're hungry so you both can buy or make something

Bf! Osamu who has a stubble after a rough week in the restaurant and asks you to help him shave it since you didn't have time to share at all

Osamu who has a picture of you in his wallet AND his office at Onigiri Miya, maybe even one in the kitchen

The type to be subtle with the PDA but when you're both alone he's the biggest cat you've ever seen, noms on your cheeks or shoulders for no reason

Finally the type that knows you're the one when you spend the whole night with him with preparations for a big event on the restaurant

(I'm an avid Tsumu lover, but Osamu is just so boyfriend and husband material I can't ignore it)

OSAMU GOING OUT OF HIS WAY TO FIND YOU AND KISS YOU IS SO GOOD IM GONNA DIE

Bc he’s been so excited to kiss you all day, since this morning when he kissed you last, he just wants to run and pick you up and spin you around and pull you into this insane kiss because you make him feel on top of the world. He settles for an excited flurry of kisses from both of you, giggles and smiles and happy, easy breaths.

OSAMU WHO ASKS IF YOURE HUNGRY BECAUSE HE GETS TO DO HIS FAVORITE ACTIVITY FOR HIS FAVORITE PERSON AND WHO WOULDN'T LOVE DOING THAT???

who jumps up onto his feet and takes your jacket and kisses you with a quick flurry of "you hungry?" "did you eat?" "want to have a snack with me?"

OSAMU!!!!! WITH STUBBLE!!!! IM GONNA CHOKE-

who loves the way you shrink up your shoulders from the tickly feeling of him kissing your cheeks and neck, but loves the way you focus on shaving him even more, the tip of your tongue poking out as you draw the razor over his cheeks and jawline- you nicked him once on the neck, so now you force him to do it himself; but he still trusts you implicitly.

OSAMU WHO KEEPS PICTURES OF YOU EVERYWHERE IM-

he's got you in his wallet, his phone screen, there's one of you in his office and one of you in the inside of his onigiri miya cap. there's one of you in the restaurant, one facing out to the people, and one resting on the register. when someone asks who you are, he gets this wide, proud smile and confidently gives them an excited "my fiancé!"

OSAMU MIYA IS A BITER AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

hes the clingy one, the one who dangles off of you, the one who leaves playful bites and curls on your lap and falls asleep with your hand in his fluffy hair.

AND HIM SETTING UP THE RESTURANT FOR A JACKALS AFTER PARTY OR SOMETHING, KNOWING YOURE RIGHT THERE WITH HIM TO SUPPORT HIS DREAMS AND GIVE HIM A PROUD LOOK AT THE BEGINNING AND END OF EVERY DAY 🥺❤️❤️

[rookiesbookies]

Hi, I really love the greek gods au for the boys, could I request some more hcs for them?

I was lowkey so excited to have an ask! Welcome Anon! I appreciate you! You have braved my inbox and im super excited to have you!

I saw you ask and wrote this as fast as I could with some of the other ideas for them that swim around my brain.

Let me know what you think!

Masterlist is pinned on my account as always, and my inbox is open!

Price

He had Hephaestus forge him a special razor so he could always keep his mustache in check after an incident where he tried to use a human razor and broke it.

He wears human clothes, he does have his godly robes but he prefers to wear something that may be comforting for whatever sacrificial woman he has at a given moment.

Has debated no longer accepting the women as sacrifices

for a long string of time the women were just the horniest ones or the village prostitutes. While they were nice for a week or two he did end up finding them homes elsewhere

Gaz says he fosters women like cats.

Price isnt looking at fostering anymore though. This most recent accidental sacrifice has by far been his favorite. She’s so warm, causes no problem, and isn’t like the last one he got who owned 8 cats.

Price likes cats, just not 8 of them.

He also worries Zeus will try to take his woman

Which is why the woman is hidden and protected by Price’s powerful shield from anyone who tries to creep on her. He doesn’t want his woman threatened by Hera.

Hera already knows he has decided to marry this one, as the goddess of marriage and is probably the most proud of him compared to Zeus’ other bastard children.

Soap

He most often wears his godly armor instead of his robes or human clothes.

The human clothes are really only to go see Price, the robes are really only for relaxing in his house, but the armor is for working.

He has to really just follow around his dad, Ares

He doesn’t know his goddess mom, and Ares wont tell him. Honestly he questions if he’s even Ares because the relationship isnt very father-son, they’re more just like Coworkers

He says his mom is probably Aphrodite but who knows

He spends most of his time with Simon.

Simon is relaxed and comes to work with him sometimes. Usually accidentally causing a cold breeze with his presence.

Soap linda digs the dark robes, he hates how shiny his white ones are.

Definitely hides amongst humans when he gets pent up or frustrated from work.

Gods are so demanding in bed, he’d rather have a human.

With Price looking like he’s going to settle down with his newest sacrifice, Soap thinks about finding his own woman. Price’s helps him cook and clean and look like she’d take it with no problems. Soap kinda wants that now

Ghost

He’s a very antisocial god.

Price has tried to get him to loosen up.

Price has offered him the best of some of the sacrifices that he didn’t get along with.

Simon just hasn’t shifted.

He buddies around with Soap, says its because their work is the most similar.

In reality Soap is the one person he favors the most. Keegan is also up there, but he’s no Johnny.

He never understood why Price took the sacrifices of women. He doesnt bother with the mountain god who gets on his nerves. He loves Gaz but his social battery just dies.

He doesnt see anyone loving that.

Not to mention, he’s the god of Winter. His fingers are cold, his robes are a dark black instead of a beautiful white because he’s from the underworld, and he spends a lot of time down there as well.

He refuses to kidnap a woman how Hades had. Says he had standards and is too attractive for that. Tells people he’ll get a woman when he wants one.

Persephone worries about him. Persephone wants a daughter-in-law who can bring her cold son out of this.

Even Demeter worries, and she loves when he visits. She has no more work when he comes into town, she just wish he didn’t reek of death from the underworld.

Konig

You think Konig was tall at somewhere between 6’7” and 6’10”? Now he’s like 8 feet tall.

He’s probably the loneliest of all of gods, he lives at the top of his mountain (which is kinda like the one of Olympus where it was kinda just a glorified hill) and doesn’t get much company, unlike the 141 group.

He does wear a veil because of his anxiety, being a lonely god makes you self conscious, what if all the other gods are much more handsome?

He wears robes, unlike the 141 group, he doesnt try to blend in with humans so he only has his godly robes.

He doesnt often get sacrifices either, since his altar is at the top of the mountain. Its why he doesnt intervene when the war people come often.

If only there was a way to sacrifice someone to keep him company, he’d never need much more again.

Especially with Atlas holding up the world.

Zeus told him he was born from a single drop of Atlas’ sweat hitting the ground.

Konig has never met Atlas. So he wouldn’t doubt he maybe is secretly a Zeus child? However he doesn’t mind not being a Zeus child. Hera doesn’t give him problems and he likes it that way.

He cooks, he cleans. He’d do anything for someone to spend a bit of time with. He might start scoping out the local village and town again. Last time he was disappointed by all the interesting ones being taken, so he stayed at a distance. But maybe he’d try again.

Keegan

Work is always calling Keegan.

As Thanatos says, “humans wont stop dying, birthing, fucking, or breathing”

Keegan doesn’t disagree.

He has black robes, similar to Ghost’s as they’re both from the underworld. He has spent a great deal of time with Simon as he has to deal with people suffering from hypothermia in the harsh winters.

Simon doesn’t cold shoulder him like most others. Compared to the gods from the underworld, Keegan is quite friendly. He just knows people dont live forever.

Or he hasn’t learned Price can protect humans and living things from death yet.

He has a solid relationship with Thanatos. He cant complain especially next to Soap’s and Price’s situations

He hasn’t ever really spent time with the 141 group because he’s worried he’ll have to get up and leave randomly due to his job.

He also doesn’t have human clothes like they do. He often wonders where they came from.

His home is in the underworld, so he worries about a human living there if he ever were to take on a bride.

Maybe he’d find a nice goddess like Hades did. But Price makes humans seem so nice.

He just worries he wouldnt be home enough to care for his human or he’d have to take his human to work to make sure she got enough vitamin D… i mean he can always gives you vitamin D but it’s a different vitamin.

He’s also worried about touching a human because what if he accidentally kills them or something ridiculous like that?

Too many risks. Maybe. Unless someone is brave enough to prove them wrong.

Gaz

He saves a lot of dropped babies from serious damage. He never shows himself, always stays invisible to the human eye, but he saves a lot of babies.

Also saves a lot of kids. Toddlers and young children fall quite a bit.

He has the whitest and cleanest and shiniest robes btw

But yeah he loves saving kids. Especially when he can show his form because adults don’t believe kids anyway.

Especially if they say they were saved by a god.

He also saves quite a bit of animals. Like bird eggs.

He just prefers saving kids.

He thinks they’re really darn cute.

Wouldn’t mind a few of his own

Doesnt help Hermes keeps teasing him though.

Hermes never misses a chance to remind him he came from him jerking it on a cloud and letting it fall to the earth.

Hermes thinks its really funny.

Gaz wouldn’t hate a partner. Nymph, Human, or Goddess.

He’s taken a couple of them to bed and has to say Human is his favorite.

Did he mention he saves a lot of kids?

Would you, maybe, like to save his, perhaps, for like 9 months?

Krueger

Sebastian makes Konig’s world a bit less lonely? However isn’t the most wonderful company.

Definitely defiles the virgins of random towns near by.

Has fun telling them he’s a god and was sent by their towns patron to defile them

Lowkey Hera had to ask if he was one of Zeus

He was actually carved from clay and given gifts from gods

Artemis made him a skilled hunter, Hades made him a quick thinker, Athena gave him tactical knowledge, Ares gave him strength, Apollo gave him impermeable skin, Zeus gave him a big dick, Eris gave him wild anger

The usual

His job is not terribly demanding and has quite a bit of free time to spend with Konig

He has big dark armor and a giant axe. Definitely has a lot of fun with it

his dream is to get a temple of his own and his own priestesses who would do his bidding and pray to him their city doesnt go on a hit list for the gods

He also dreams to get a virgin sacrificed to him.

He isnt greedy like Price when it comes to women, he just wants one. One is all he would need.

He’d never need to go around defiling random virgins anymore, he’d just get to have his virgin at home.

He’d love to have his own servant. He’d treat her well he promises. He’d love an embarrassed virgin for himself.

[missbaphomet]

Reminding myself not to bother engaging with people who want to twist my words because if you actually wanted to criticize my stances you wouldn’t have to misrepresent them to do it.

[scribblescrabbledepartment]

another oneeee

[ID: an illustration of a child standing at the edge of a body of water, the entire space before him taken up by an enormous mouth filled with sharp teeth.]

this story is one that im less proud of, i have to touch it up a little bc its kinda clunky, but adding it anyway (taken directly from a dream)

The sky and the sea were both gray, murky and cloudy and infinitely vast, like a serene storm. Somewhere off in the distance, thousands of miles away, they merged in a smoggy smeared-out line. A young boy, not yet even ten, walked barefoot along the hard wet sand, which, like the rest of the dreary scenery, was also gray. Sharp rocky cliffs jutted up around the desolate beach, cutting off any civilization from view, not that there was anything for miles. The air was wet and chilly, and the only sounds were distant wind and the soft movement of the water.

The boy turned to look at the water. It was dark, and looked very deep, though he could not see past the cold surface. Suddenly, without so much as a bubble or wave of warning, from the depths rose an enormous creature. Only its head was fully out of the water, but part of its thick neck was visible, and the humps and ridges of its back stretched on for miles, poking out of the sea like an ominous jetty that went on too far to see. Its head was huge and blue-gray, more gray than blue, and smooth-skinned, like an amphibian. It had no eyes but its mouth was enormous and long like a crocodile’s, only much, much larger—a grown man could easily stand inside with plenty of room to stretch. It had sharp teeth that reminded the boy of a dinosaur, and long gills on its neck that were fringed with some sort of algae. The creature looked old, more ancient than time itself. Under the water and out of sight, its body swayed slowly to keep itself in place.

“Come into my mouth,” the sea monster said to the boy. Its voice was deep and echoing, though it never moved its lips. “Put a stick between my jaws to hold it open, and it will keep me from eating you.” The boy wasn’t sure what to make of this, but something about the monster hypnotized him, so he obeyed, carefully wedging a large piece of driftwood between its jaws and walking into the musty razor-lined cavern.

“Go up into my head,” the monster instructed him. Understanding almost by instinct, the boy climbed up a hole in the roof of its mouth. He found himself in an attic-like space where he thought the creature’s brain should have been. He was waist-deep in warm, cloudy water, and something submerged in it produced many colors of light that lit up the water and reflected off of it to produce magical colorful patterns all around.

On the outside, the monster saw that the sun was setting through the clouds. It was time for it to go. Suddenly and quickly, it jerked around back into the ocean, snapping the piece of wood between its jaws like a twig, and away it swam into the black depths, leaving the beach as still as it had ever been.

[yourlocalmerchgirl]

The War Within - Part One

Briefly Joel x Neurodivergant Reader Then Tommy x Neurodivergant wife reader

Summary: You've only been with Joel for 6 months when the outbreak happens, flipping your entire life into a hell scape. Feeling backed into a corner and completely suffocated by life you decide to join the Fireflies with Tommy after a heartbreaking event to search for a better life and the two of you end up in Jackson

A twist of fate happens and you and Tommy Fall in love and get married when Joel and Ellie turn up in Jackson one day and you have to face him all these years later

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Angst- Lots of it, Verbal fighting- lots of it , course language, emotional, some fluff and happiness, talks of anxiety, depression, Panic attacks, Neurodivergant reader. No use of y/n. Reader goes by the nickname Birdie. Use of typical pet name.

A/N: I hope you all love this new multi part journey I've been working on, I'm extremely proud of this story. I understand that this storyline/ themes aren't for everyone. Part Two will be out shortly.

More often then not you felt like you were outside of your body, floating above it.

Being a spectator to your own life, watching as your dissociative cocoon wrapped itself around you taking hold.

You found yourself in this position for days or weeks at a time. It was your body’s way of protecting itself after years of constantly being in fight or flight mode.

You looked on as you desperately tried to hold on to what little you had left, to your life with Joel. But it was like trying to hold on to a wet rope in the middle of a tsunami. Slowly losing your grip you began to drown, fighting desperately to stay above water. The more you tried to kick to the surface, the more tired you became and the more tired you became the less you fought to stay afloat.

Time dragged on, the air had a thickness to it you’d not yet felt. Everything sounded slow and muffled as you tried to make sense of why and how long you two had been fighting for.

“Are you even listening to me?” Joel pressed, getting more aggravated by the minute.

He got nothing as you blankly stared back him, eyes glazed over.

“Unbelievable…. I should be looking after Sarah, not looking after you”

Joel’s words snapped you back to reality. the fog that incased you not thick enough to protect you from the verbal blow as it struck you, deep and abrupt.

Your whole body burned, the tears started falling so quickly that you had no hope of stoping them even if you tried. The two of you often hastily said things to each other in the heat of the moment when you both reached the point of overstimulation. Things that neither of you meant. But this, this felt different. You knew the tone of Joel’s voice well, always able to understand his meaning by the tone of his voice. His tone was razor sharp, with an anger behind it that he had never used with you before.

“This is why we can’t talk things out like this, why nothing gets resolved. Because you cry every-time we have a argument”

“Are you fucking kidding me Joel?” You shout. Completely losing all ability to keep it in.

“Im sorry I care, that I’m emotional. Trust me I would much rather feel nothing 24/7 than to feel everything as if it’s a electrical currant passing through me, but I can’t. No matter how fucking hard I try I’m always going up be sensitive and emotional.”

“The state of the world doesn’t exactly lend its self to being emotional, one wrong move when your heads not focused could cost someone there life. You- you get stuck in these episodes and it’s like your not in your body anymore, I can’t keep keepin an eye on us both. You’re gonna get us killed one of these days.”

It hurts like hell, but it’s the truth and deep down you know it. But it doesn’t make you any less hurt and angry because it’s the truth either.

“I’m sorry Joel. I’m sorry that I should of died instead of Sarah, I’m sorry that no matter what I do I’ll never be enough for you.”

Your admission stuns Joel, your words cutting him like a straight blade razor. You’d never said anything like that about yourself, atleast not out loud you hadn’t.

“I can’t fucking talk to you when we’re like this. I’m going out” Joel exclaims while grabbing his coat.

“Wait, it’s almost curfew, where are you going?” You ask, everything but concern draining from your body.

“I don’t know? I’m just fucking going out, don’t wait up for me” Joel says as he slams the door

“I love you” you shout after him, but if falls on deaf ears.

You cried in silence, thinking about what had lead you to this point. You and Joel never had the chance to truly be happy. Your relationship was so new when the outbreak happened that it was doomed from the start. You two never had the chance to fully open up to each other

It wasn’t all his fault either, Joel was hardened by the cruel bitch that was the universe when it took the one thing he loved more than life itself. You also knew you weren’t easy to deal with, never getting the opportunity to talk to Joel about your anxiety and depression that stemmed from it. About how to spot if you were getting overstimulated and anxious and how to help talk you down from it. Or about how much you relied on a schedule and a routine to navigate life and how much progress you’d made with it all in therapy. Instead you were both thrust into a situation you didn’t have the tools to deal with and thus your relationship suffered at the hands of it.

The further past curfew it got the more you worried about Joel. It terrified you to think about the situations that would unfold if he was caught by Fedra. Dressing in all dark clothing you decided to go out searching for Joel.

Lurking in the shadows for hours you search for Joel, checking every inch of the qz and the seedy areas people hangout after curfew with no luck. The sun will start coming up soon, so you head back to the apartment hoping Joel managed to stumble back there unscathed.

You hear some commotion inside as you reach your apartment door. Slowly opening the door you feel like the wind got knocked out of you when you see Joel burred deep inside Tess, telling her how much he loved her. You stumble backwards as you try to catch your breath, refusing to believe you’re actually seeing this. But the scene before you never changes and your forced to realize this is unfolding in front of your eyes. Silently scrambling you grab your emergency go bag by the door and shut it behind you.

Your mind is racing as you slid down the wall and slump over. Gasping for breath you try desperately to comprehend what you saw, trying think quickly about what to do.

——————————————————————

Tommy springs awake at the sound of frantic knocking on the door. Creeping up slowly to the door, pistol in his hand.

“Who is it?”

“I-it’s me…it’s Birdie” your voice meek and distraught, tone barely above a whisper.

Tommy quickly unlocks the door to find you on the other side, eyes bloodshot and and desperate. Your body langue is defeated as Tommy notices your backpack.

“C-can I come in?” You ask, a hoarseness to your voice. Your eyes trained on the ground.

“Birdie, what’s wrong? Everything alright?” His face etched with concern as he looks you over.

“ Is- is there any way to join the fireflies quickly. To- to be able to leave the QZ with you guys tonight?”

“You get Joel to join the fireflies?”

“No n-not Joel, for me..just me” you shake your head. Your voice shakes as you speak. Your head hung low, eyes glued to your feet.

“Look at me Birdie” Tommy says gingerly, cupping your chin with his thumb and index finger, gently lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Did he hurt you? He didn’t hit you did he?” He asked in a firm but calm tone while turning your face side to side to check for visible marks.

Tommy didn’t believe Joel was capable of laying a hand on you like that but he needed to make sure. His brother had become more angry and violet over the years. Drinking more and pushing home made drugs to some of the fedra guards and he was starting not to recognize the man Joel was becoming.

You shook your head.

“Hurt me yes, hit me no. We’ve been hurting each other for to long and I just can’t handle it anymore. I- I can’t live like this anymore and the two if you are the only people I trust.”

“Does he know your leavin’?”

“If they will let me go I’ll go in slip a note I wrote under the door. If not i don’t know what I’ll do”

“Let’s go talk to them. I’m not sure what’s goin’ on between the two of you but I’m not leavin you here like this, but I’m also not going to press you about what’s goin’ on if you don’t want to talk about it”

“ I’ll talk about it eventually Tommy I just can’t talk about it right now much less think about it, I’m just in to much pain”

————————————————————

It’s nearly dusk when Joel wakes up, rolling over to wrap his arm around you.

“I don’t want to fight like that anymore baby girl” Joel says as he nuzzles into your neck, but his eyes snap open the moment he realizes somethings off, that you scent is different. That’s when realizes the grave mistake he made when he sees it’s Tess in your bed and not you.

“What the fuck is going on” Joel shouts while pushing himself out of bed.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Birdie?”

“You didn’t seem to be complaining a couple hours ago that she wasn’t here”

It’s in this moment as Joel feels the color drain from his face that he’s made a detrimental mistake. That he hadn’t been with you at all last night, that it wasn’t you when he’d finally said I love you.

Joel immediately starts putting his boots on to go looking for you. His motions panicked and scrambled.

“You heard me, I said get the fuck out and don’t come back”

As Joel slams the door he hears paper crinkle under his boot, he steps back to see a folded piece of paper with his name on it just inside the door. He unfolds it yo find a note from you.

Dear Joel,

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for the pain and frustration I’ve caused you over the years. The way we’ve been living isn’t healthy for either of us and just can’t stomach it any longer. You don’t deserve to be worried about both of us constantly because I can’t handle life in the dystopian universe well. You said if anything were to ever happen to go to Tommy that he take care of me so rest easy knowing that right up until the end I listened to you. I’ve joined the fire flies with him and by the time you see this we will have left the QZ in search of a better living situation. Tommy will message you here and there on the radio. You and Sarah will always have a place on my heart.

Love,

Birdie

Anger and failure blend together in a unrelenting weight on Joel’s chest as he flips the kitchen table over, papers flying everywhere, glass breaking.

—————————————————————-

About 10 years later

Tommy is up on the scaffolding when he hears the unmistakable tone of his brothers voice

“Tooommmyyyy”

Tommy runs down the stairs as Joel’s jumps from the horse he’s on and the share in a tight embrace.

“The fuck you doin here?”

“I came to save you guys”

Tommy and Maria take Joel and Ellie into the mess hall for a meal. As Tommy’s taking his coat and gloves off he slips his ring into his pocket, not ready to tell Joel that the two of you are in love, that you’d gotten married. Not wanting to have the conversation in front of everyone. Emotions swirl around Tommy’s head, on one hand he’s happy to see his brother on the other hand fear and resentment in not knowing what kind of person his brother is these days.

“I trust the two of you would like some time alone, I’ll take Ellie up to the house to shower and set her up with clothes and then take her to the town movie night” Maria says

“It’s ok Ellie you can go with her, it’ll be alright”

“ Tommy a word in private before you do so?”

“Is Birdie going to be alright?”

“I think she’s going to be a bit shaken, she has therapy tonight and I know she’ll be home right now unwinding so she won’t just bump into him. Imma make sure she knows tonight that he’s here.”

—————————————————————

“It doesn’t look like you’ve aged much” Joel says taking a seat at the bar of the tipsy bison, nervously smoothing his hand over it.

“You on the other hand” Tommy offers.

“Is she here? Is Birdie alive?” Joel asks nervously

“Yes she’s here in Jackson”

“Where is she? I want to see her” Joel presses

“Now slow down Joel, ya can’t just waltz in here and demand to see her”

“ The fuck I can’t! You ain’t her keeper. I have the right to see her”

“I’m not her keeper nor am I trying to be, all I’m trying to say is she’s made a lot of progress since we’ve been here. Her health and well being has improved 10 fold thanks to therapy.”

“Therapy?”

“One of our residents here used to be a therapist before the outbreak so we built her a place to practice out of and birdie goes every week like she did before the outbreak”

“She went to therapy before? I didn’t know that”

“And I suppose you never asked either”

Tommy’s comment gets under Joel’s skin. Bringing up resentment that had be just below the surface.

“So what’s this have to do with you tellin’ me I can’t see Birdie?”

Tommy let’s out a frustrated huff at Joel’s pressing. He doesn’t want to argue with his brother, they havnt seen each other in so long the last thing he wants to do is get into a fight. But Tommy’s one and only goal is protecting you and he will be as harsh as he has to be to get Joel to understand, even if he doesn’t like the answers.

“Because Joel you just arrived with a mystery kid, she has no idea your even here. You just turning up at her door with no notice would have her shaken, set back her mental health. She deserves to atleast know your here. To make her own decision on wether or not she wants to see you”

“So what are you really doing out here Joel? What’s with the kid?”

“She needs to go to this firefly base out here so Marlene hired me to bring her out here. And I took the job so I could get out here and save you guys.”

“Why did you think we needed saving?”

“I don’t know Tommy maybe because the two of you guys stopped fucking messaging me back. Because Marlene said you weren’t with the fireflies anymore. It must be because your girl keeps you on a short leash.”

“Maria? It is because of a rule we put In place here but she ain’t my girl. We started having some rough people coming through because they found out about us from radio activity so we had to be more careful and only use it for emergency’s.”

“ Let me show you where you guys will be staying so you can rest, clean up and go to the town movie night if you’d like.”

—————————————————————

Tommy can’t help but smile about the way you look up from your book when he walks through the door, food from the mess hall in his hands.

“Hey baby” you coo, the smile on your face lighting up the room when you see him.

“Hey sweet girl, sorry I’m home a lil late. But I have your favorite, it was Shepards pie night at the mess hall.”

You get up to take the food containers from him, placing them on the counter as he wraps his arms around you.

“How did therapy go to today babe?” Tommy asks as he kisses your temple.

“It went good, just exhausted by it tonight”

After dinner your curled up on the couch with your head in his lap asking him about his day.

“Baby I need to tell you something” Tommy breaths out his voice hardly above a whisper.

“Ok… is everything ok?” You ask starring up at him.

“I’m afraid it’s probably going up upset you” Tommy says rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“What is it Tommy?” You ask as you sit up. Mind racing with what it could be.

“Joel’s here, in Jackson”

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[magdaluxe]

gwah i suppose i can post my cosplay here bc im so prouds of it… face reveal ig LOL

bonus

razor burger

[naturesapphic]

Hiiii I really like your writing and I was wondering if u could do Olivia benson x reader where reader struggles with sh but only if your comfortable with it again really love your writing

“I’m here”

Olivia benson x fem!reader

WARNINGS: talks of sh, hurt/comfort, blood, razor

You were on the bathroom floor with the razor in your hand. You didn’t want to do it, you really didn’t but the thoughts wouldn’t stop. The feeling of needing to do it wouldn’t go away. It was only when you heard the front door shut and the voice of your girlfriend that snapped you out of it.

“Y/n? Princess? You here?” Olivia called out and you quickly put the razor away underneath the sink and went out the bathroom to greet her. There she was standing by the door putting up her coat and taking off her shoes. You gave her a fake smile and went up to your girlfriend to give her a hug and kiss.

You wrap your arms around her neck as you use your tippy toes to reach her. “Hey princess.” She said softly against your neck and you pull away from her embrace. “I-I’m okay…” you say a little shakily. Olivia frowns, sensing that you are lying. “Baby are you sure? I can tell that you aren’t…but I won’t push you to tell me anything if you aren’t ready yet.” She said softly as she cups your face with her hands.

You looked up at her and saw the sincerity in them and that’s when you broke. You started sobbing and Olivia quickly took you into her embrace, whispering reassurance as she holds you. “It’s okay princess…I got you…” she says softly as she continues to hold you tightly against her. After a few minutes you calmed down enough to start talking to her about your past and your urges you had with self harm.

She listened to you closely and intently to every word that came out of your mouth and you appreciated it tremendously. Olivia always listened to you and never judges, which is one of the reasons you are in love with her. “Thank you for telling me baby…I just wish I would have known sooner so I could have helped you. I’m so proud of you for not going through with it. I can’t imagine how hard it was.” She said sympathetically as she rubs your back while placing little kisses on the side of your head.

“Thank you liv…I love you…and I promise next time if I get the urge to I’ll call you.” You said and Olivia smiles big at your words. “Yes please call me. Even at work.” She reassured you and you nodded, a small grateful smile on your lips. “Thank you…” you say again and she shakes her head. “No need to thank me baby. I’m always here for you.” Olivia says softly as she helps you stand and the two of you make dinner together. After dinner, y’all spend the rest of the night in each others arms, feeling a lot better than you did hours ago.

A/n: I hope this is what you were hoping for anon and I hope you liked it! I hope everyone else did to and I just wanted to let y’all know that I see you and that I love you. If y’all ever need anything im here <3 remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

[xmorguekittyx]

Ever Locked

Part 2: On the Rocks

Part 1: New Beginnings?

pairing: Older!Leon Kennedy x Ex!Coroner’s Assistant Reader

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, talks of enjoying inflicting emotional and physical pain on another, getting off to crying, jerking off, crying, talks of imagining sex, male and female body parts

extras: this fic will also be slow and longer, we’re telling an entire story, i want it to be detailed with Reader and Leon as well as introducing Marina and Ryan. I hope you guys enjoy i have so so so many ideas and rough drafts already written. next part should be out Saturday! and i may write another and post it Sunday as im off both days <3

Glass, wet to the touch, my finger dragging across it to leave a small smear mark between the residue. The ice clinking to the side of the glass as the cup was lifted to my lips. That dark haired girl had said she'd be in soon. I could wait, I'd waited 7 years to see her again. I wasn't waiting any longer than I had to. The amber liquor burnt on its way down, the dribble sliding down my cheek, black leather sleeve coming up to wipe away the drop. She'd be here soon... just be patient, Leon. She's gonna be hesitant at first but... I was so loving to her. Those damn coffees and breakfast- was what we had not good enough for her?

  All those years, the day the world ended, so had mine. I lost her, part of me actually thought she'd died in the mess that was Raccoon City. September 29th, 1998. Now it sat, September 26th, 2004. 7 years since I've felt the warmth of her body, the softness of her hair... since hearing those beautiful moans and whimpers of pain. I needed her, those 7 years passed quickly. From meeting Ada, Claire and Sherry, to being pulled into the government and told that with my joining USSTRATCOM, Sherry Birkins would live a normal life, the choice truly wasn't mine. I wanted a life of a normal man. A wife to come home to, soft lips to kiss good night, preferably by now, age 28, I'd have a kid or two- preferably with the woman i set out to find once more, the shy coroner's assistant. Instead, I'm a DSO Agent, currently under MIA status, I knew I was in for it the moment anyone found me. My... habits have become a bit more... flavorless. The whiskey in front of me the 20th bottle I've probably had in the last month. Sliding from shit hole to shit hole, waiting until closer to the anniversary of the day she slipped from my fingers, to trap her once more.

 

  Of the two of us, i'm sure i've changed the most, my hair darker, a brown instead of that bright blonde i was so proud of. My beard had slightly grown out, no razor was worth leaving the bottle or whatever hotel i huddled up in. The shitty lighting of the bar didn't hide her though.  As soon as she walked in, I knew it was her. She hasn't truly changed, much, after so many years. Her hair was longer than before, her eyes more tired than I was use to seeing. What was causing her such restless nights? Did she miss me as much as I missed her? I knew the government has sent her off with some money and her car before they blew the town to hell and back, but that's all they'd tell me, not a where she went or even an answer to "how was she?".

   My eyes didn't leave her, specifically her chest as she chatted with the shorter girl. That shirt nearly had her everything on show, men staring down her shirt as they passed, catching a glimpse of the top of her breasts, before she disappeared behind the bar. The other girl looking down at the ground, where she crouched.

   It didn't take long for her to pop back up, cleaner and a dingy rag in her hands. She wiped idly at the empty bar, her eyes still lingering on the other girl. She was very chatty, she talked about how much him and her friend would be perfect... she was right. That woman was perfect for me, I didn't plan on leaving the weeping town without her. I drove my ass over three thousand miles to see the girl I dreamt of holding every night... dreamt of pounding the ever loving shit out of her. Wanted to see her swole with my child, I stayed up at night, wondering if our child would look like her... or me. Would they have my blue eyes and her hair? Her eyes and my hair? I hope they got her lips and eyebrows. My chin fell to my chest, a soft sigh falling from my lips, a smirk causing the corners to twitch. I wanted that life with her... but she ran. She could've waited for me, asked them to tell me where she'd be. Then again, i don't think anyone thought i'd survive those years in between, in training under Jack Krauser.

  My eyes flickered back to the bar, wanting to see her face once more, to study her in her new habitat. The first thing that caught my eye was a manicured finger pointing at me, that girl had a big mouth- a growl fell from my lips for a moment. She couldn't have just not told her? She had to give away his position and all? Then, my eyes scanned the woman next to her, ending at her eyes, the same smirk on my lips. God, I've missed her. The glasses between her fingers fell to the floor in a sharp crash, her body stepping back instantly. I couldn't help but laugh, my chest rocking as i thought about how careless she always had been. Something's never change, bunny... some things were destined to be- we were destined to be.

  We were. We always had been, a shy, careless bunny and her protective, dangerous wolf. Her figure ran, fast as she whipped out the Motorola Razr, pink... fitting for her. She must be making more money here than i thought. A five hundred dollar cell phone, she could afford that on a bar salary? I don't think so... there has to be more to her new life.

  My own Razr ringing as i assumed another call from Chris to ask me where i've been or if i was even alive. His call ending to raise the 27 missed calls to 28. Nothing was going to stop me from getting her, i wasn't as naive as before. I had grown, my training showing me gaps in my methods, the scumbags that hurt and caused damage showing me new ideas as well- but mine were for protection. Mine were for her, like i said all those years ago. I'd do anything for her, even putting up with her accusations and her eager willingness to be in danger. Even if she threw away my money like some other boy lusting after her attention. I was, am and will forever be, her soul mate. Her impression is laid into my heart and brain. Something i was never able to change, she deserved to be there. She was a religion. Something i had to have, an addiction, something to be looked at and adored, worshiped... something i was missing in my life away from Raccoon City.

  My cock ached thinking about those soft pitiful whines that fell from her lips, the moment her head hit my tile. The moans from her plump lips as she came undone on me, gushing that forbidden nectar all over my sheets, my name on her tongue like a shunned prayer. Someone she pleaded for, unknowingly calling out for the devil to catch her. Caught her, I did... until fate decided to be cruel. My fingers brushed over the growing ache from my pants, the slit of my cock pressed to the zipper as the my hips jerked up, brushing it against the angry tip.

My thoughts were broken by someone asking for the manifestation of religion. "Hey, Marina! Where is she?", a sharp pin prick stabbed at my spine, a quirk in my lips as i see the unsteady man. His hands on the bar as 'Marina' points to the back room. All i could see was a white dress shirt, and black slacks. He better not be fucking her- only i can touch something like her, something created for my pleasure and sight. Her teary eyes and drool collecting at the corner of her mouth. A jerk from my dick had my whiskey at the back of my mind, quickly jumping up to rush to the bathroom.

 

Stupid fucking bunny. My arm rested on the stall wall, elbow dug into the metal as my palm brushed the exposed skin. Shirt tail tucked between my teeth as my hand started to fist at the hardened flesh. I could hear soft cries- hers... the bathroom must be next to the employee room. Her cries were like a sirens call, precum smeared across the sensitive flesh as my hips snapped up with the pace i had set for myself. Imagining her, that pretty face under me, her eyes rolled up to watch as i pumped my shaft, staring at those beautiful eyes. Wouldn't waste my cum on her face, no matter how tempting. Would have her bouncing on my cock, her pussy walls clenching down on my cock, tip nudging against her cervix and bumping into her soft spot as i rocked my hips. A louder sob left her lips as i felt a jolt in my cock, pumping faster. She was just so pretty... those pretty clear tears causing her eyes to gloss over. Her mumbled and moans- "fuck..", my hand slows, feeling the twitching of my cum shoot out onto the rim of the toilet seat.

  "disgusting.", the realization of what i had just done hitting me, "jerking off to a sweet bunny crying in the men's bathroom?", a dry laugh falling from my lips. "yeah- some things don't change.", the memory of doing the same at RPD flashing to mind. I'd fucked myself to the sound of her laughter more than once. Those red lacy underwear hidden in my drawer, ready for the next time i needed a stabilizing moment. A sniff, a jerk off... anything.  The toilet paper was damn near falling apart as i wiped off the cum from the tip of my cock, a hiss leaving my lips. The sensitive skin, overworked by my palm. "Shit- use to be better about not getting so over worked.", an annoyed yet amused tone to my words.

  The slamming of the bathroom door caught my attention next, i felt like a damn dog outside for the first time, jumpy and slightly buzzed. My hand landed on the stall door, sliding it open to be faced with the same white shirt and black slacks. Black hair combed back and pale skin- she certainly tried to stay away from anything close to me, didn't she?

   The man washed his hands, a groan leaving his lips as he realized he didn't have any paper towels to dry his hands. "Got toilet paper, but the shit nearly falls apart on you.", i added, i wonder if she said anything to him yet. If he recognized my presence had been the one to distraught her so deeply. Her soft sobs could still be heard. "Yeah... i'll pass, thanks.", he side eyed me, brown eyes wide and weirded out. "Yeah, no problem.", my hands came up to wave him off. I wanted to know more, where was he from- what was he to her? Boyfriend, probably... but that just won't do. I had to keep her with me, she was my forbidden fruit. The future mother to my children, my bunny... my little play thing. The man started to turn to walk away, his hand resting on the door as he turned his head to take a final peek. "Have a good rest of your day.", the man spoke up. "Yeah, you too. Hey- I didn't catch your name.", I knew for a fact he knew now, his side eyes not passing my radar. I was trained in body language, he didn't want to take his eyes off me, he saw me as a threat. "I didn't throw it.", he dead panned, his look slightly more angered. "Right... right...", what was this guys name again? It popped up under the same address as hers.

   Ken? Ren? Rylan- Ryan! "Sorry...", my hands met under the water, washing away the sins that lingered on my skin. "Have a good rest of your night, Ryan.", i hummed, as casually as possible, my eyes catching his in the mirror. "I caught it.", i quickly add, maybe giving him any insight that i knew anything was stupid, but i didn't care. "Yeah... you too, Leon.", a chuckle left my lips, maybe she hadn't picked someone too different as the annoyance and anger clung to his words. A smirk fell on my lips, becoming more familiar to my features the more i stayed in this busy town. I didn't reply, just watching as he walked out, thinking he had the upper hand. He doesn't, he won't- bunny was mine, I owned her. I had staked my claim 7 years ago on that girl and I'd be damned if I lost it now.

  Ryan... I'll have to look that up later. Keeping all my tabs on the new life she built for herself. I was more careful this go around, despite the ache that quickly came back to my groin from the power exchange...!i would wait, plan... figure out how and when to take her back to the house i built. A family home, build from the foundation up on quite a few acres, stuck in the middle of a very small town. This will be our home, sweet bunny... we'll have a family, somewhere where it's just us. I'm tired of fighting for everyone else to have their happy endings, for them to get to shine while i suffer... This time, i'll be selfish, i'll get what i want and i won't allow my broken bird to fly, my little bunny to hop. Instead, she'll be mine, changed and tamed... kept away from the unsafe world, kept private and secret from nearly anyone. If only i could get rid of the suspicion of the man and the fear she held on me. I just wanted a life, i'd get it. One way or another, i was getting my family home and filling it with little Kennedy's.