#it gets my heartrate up lol

[ladysqueakinpip]

not me lying wide awake at 5:30am on a sunday on my day off bc after almost a full year I finally FINALLY realized the implication of the end of remember them from the cyclops saga

[icewindandboringhorror]

Some (late) holiday photos of the boye~!

[martyrbat]

ok mental breakdown over how are all of u ..

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

bradycardia being an outcome of a restrictive eating disorder is so wild to me because the more I don't eat the more wildly variable my heartrate is, and it averages higher, not lower, whenever I notice it

[imblocking-you]

061 BEING SO THOUGHTFUL ARGHGHFJFHD I NEED TO CHOMP ON SOME WOOD

[vampmilf]

beat ganondorf first try btw they hate to see a twink in his cunty little outfit winning 🤙🏼🤙🏼

[xcziel]

Hey saw your tags about anemia and still being anemic after taking supplements. And you may have tried this, but I got this tip from another tumblr user so I'm passing it on. Have you tried Iron Bisglyconate supplements? It's a different form of iron than typical supplements or RX supplements and it's much better on your stomach and more easily absorbed. And in my experience it worked when normal Ferrous Sulfate didn't.

I consulted my doctor and she went off and told me the correct dosage for me when I was severely anemic was 100mg/day but normally I take about 50mg now.

Just worth trying. For the record they don't know the cause of my anemia either but my mom has had the same problem her entire life. They just don't like when I tell them it has to be genetic.

I haven't tried bisglycinate - i've now got some tabs open for reasearch, thank you!

my Dr put me on 28mg heme polypeptide + polysaccharide iron complex every other day, which does seem to help a bit but not get me out of the zone?

after the one session of iron infusion last november, we seem to be just watching the hemoglobin go slowly back down. he seems to feel like if it gets too low again then the answer is just another infusion and has stopped really looking at causes/other options

i'm a bad case i guess because i'm also taking omeprazole and that inhibits absorption.

my new idea recently was to try a methylfolate supplement, even though my folate numbers are good, in case it was a lack of the right kind of folate that was inhibiting iron uptake (i don't get a lot of plant-derived vitamins) but it was *really* affecting my mood for the worse, so i had to stop. next appointment is soon, so we'll see in the bloodwork if it had any affect.

i'll ask him if trying another form of iron supplement might be worth looking at - maybe in addition?, because he didn't really offer a choice - just said "take this, it's easier on your stomach" (probably because the metformin is rough enough on my digestion)

[sarahghetti]

blood on your lies; m.s.

pairing: marc spector x reader centric, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: after an argument with marc, you go missing. he tears himself apart trying to find you.

warnings: a dive into the mind of marc spector, angst, hurt with some comfort (i.e. jake and steven), kidnapping, vague descriptions of violence.

word count: 3.0k

notes: kind of a continuation of all the echoes in my mind, but can be read as a standalone. written as part of the @moonknight-events bingo! prompt: "insecure", I promise that not all my entries will be this sad lol

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

You’re not home yet.

It’s nearly been three hours. Marc paces the apartment like a caged animal, likely wearing the hardwood underneath his feet. Steven and Jake have run their course about how stupid he is, how he shouldn’t have said what he said, how he should’ve run after you the second you stepped out the door—

But jokes on them. There can be no harsher critic of Marc than Marc himself.

He checks his phone again in case you’ve responded to his many texts and calls, but there’s nothing. As far as he knows, you haven’t even seen any of it.

His temper still lingers under their skin, and he holds it tight with both hands; anger is easy. It’s easier than admitting that the peaks in his heartrate and the sweat on his brow is from anything other than his own self-flagellation.

Anger is familiar.

This, however? The waiting for you to walk through the door, or to give them any sign of life—so much of his sanity rests in the comfort of you being safe. Marc didn’t realize how lucky he was to not know what this was like. Now, he doesn’t know if he can ever forget it.

Jake’s voice is clipped. “Check again.”

They’re all on edge, and it’s terrible. Most of the time, at least one of them manages to keep a level head during stressful situations—usually Marc. Jake is prone to anger, Steven to anxiousness.

“Marc!” Steven yanks him out of his head, and his phone is in his hand without any memory of having taken it out of his pocket. He does a dutiful look through his notifications—nothing.

Three sets of disappointment and concern pile on top of one another and drags them all down so much further.

“Do…” Steven’s voice is quiet. Unsure. “Do you think something might’ve happened to her?”

There is no dissenting opinion, no devil’s advocate. Marc doesn’t try to calm his alters down, and only clenches his jaw.

You’ve never gone quiet on them like this. They’ve never let you leave the flat at night like this. They always opted to be the one to go take a walk because even in the middle of an argument, they wouldn’t risk your safety.

The lingering silence is Steven’s answer.

When the suit wraps itself around his body, the accompanying burst of power in his veins is suffocating. His wounds begin to numb over, but Marc barely notices. He hasn’t spared them a thought since you left.

The cool air does nothing to assuage him. Clouds blot out the sky, leaving nothing but a murky backdrop as he scales up the nearest building for a vantage point. A quick scan over the horizon—nothing. Not a hint of your silhouette under the streetlights, and a lump forms in his throat.

“Khonshu!”

A gust of wind signals the god’s arrival, who, even with a bird’s skull for a head, looks remarkably bored as Marc is clinging to any semblance of sanity. He must already know what’s going on but frustratingly just spreads out his hands, a silent question—what?

Marc grits his teeth. “Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Khonshu.” The name is a snarl on his lips.

He simply scoffs. “You have the gall to make demands? As if I need to be involved with your lover’s spat?”

“She’s not answering her phone.”

A lingering pause.

“She might be in danger,” Marc snaps, trying to get the god to understand even a fraction of the severity of the situation. They might bloody their hands night after night, staining London’s streets each time they go out on patrol, but it’s never enough. There are always more monsters to take their place, and the thought that you might have run into one of them—

Khonshu cocks his head. “Maybe she’s just finally had enough of you.”

Marc hates how that’s a possibility. Still, desperation crawls out of his throat. “Can you find her?”

Khonshu turns to look over the city, the silence stretching out between them. Whatever divinity he’s channeling, Marc isn’t privy to; all he can do is stand there like a useless dumbass and wait for some hint of you to show up on the god’s radar. Even if you had had enough and never want to see him again—he’ll swallow down that fate in stride as long as he knows that you’re safe.

When Khonshu finally breaks from searching, his head cocks slightly to the side. “Interesting.”

This is hardly the time for theatrics. “Do not—”

“I cannot find her,” the god admits. Not apologetic or ashamed, but—awed. “Where she is right now, her footsteps through the city—there is nothing, Marc Spector. There’s not even a trace of her in your own home.”

The blood rushes in his ears. His chest constricts until he can barely breathe at all. Marc barely manages to wrap his head around the information before Jake and Steven come roaring back again, shocked and confused.

“Stupid fucking bird—”

“She was right here!

“Let me out, pendejo, I swear—”

“What the bloody hell does he mean—”

“How?” Is all Marc manages to get out, every one of his senses on overload.

“Something is hiding her from me; whatever took your lover is very powerful indeed.”

Took. Not a single doubt about it now: something took you. Kidnapped you because Marc couldn’t keep it together for ten-fucking-minutes. Jake and Steven can prattle all they want in the background—his mission is clear.

“Where do we start?”

-

The flat seems even bleaker when they return, your absence all the more chilling. Steven clamours to take the reins with the obvious assumption that research is the first step they need to take, but that’s quickly dashed away when Khonshu returns with a name.

“Apep.” God of darkness and disorder, Steven supplies from their head. “He’s been cast away for eons, but there have always been those trying to get him to return.”

“It’s another cult?”

Jake swears under his breath. “Figures.”

Ignoring them, Marc presses on. “Who are we dealing with now?”

“If it were easy to find them, I would’ve done it already,” Khonshu bristles. “Apep is helping them—hiding them as they work. I will continue to do what I can.”

“Fine.”

The god disappears in a whirlwind of loose papers, and Marc switches gears. Steven might have the advantage in research, but tracking? The skills he’s honed as a Marine and as a mercenary wait for him like an old pair of shoes; the others can’t help but let him work in peace.

He finds some old tourist map that spans over the city and unfolds it across the dining table. There are only so many places you would’ve gone, so many routes you could’ve taken. London doesn’t become deserted at night and barring any divine intervention, kidnapping someone would cause a scene—you would have caused a scene, he thinks, imagining you fighting tooth and nail against your assailants, screaming for someone to help—

Marc closes his eyes, clenches his jaw. A wave of pain washes over him, and he languishes in it for a minute, not a moment more.

His eyes reopen, spots dancing across his vision as he analyzes the map again. The feeling has been sealed shut into a box, shoved into a corner of his mind. Steve would throw a fit about his mental state if it were any other time, lecturing him on coping mechanisms and compartmentalization, but there’s no time for him to feel sorry for himself.

He grits his teeth and refocuses his train of thought. If they’re up against a cult, then they probably would’ve sent multiple people to grab you. Would’ve had to lure you somewhere quiet if it was by force, or they could have convinced you to go with them somehow. Or threatened you. Or…

The more he gets into it, the more he feels himself detaching from the situation, piece-by-piece. The memory of you is like a minefield; it’s a testament to his will that he can recall anything about you without breaking down. What you were wearing—and not the look on your face—when you left. Your favourite park—and not how your hand fits perfectly into his as you walked down the paths—that you might have passed through.

He reduces you to intel, just another folder on his desk. It’s not unfamiliar to him. He wouldn’t have made it this far if he couldn’t take an objective approach to his work. But it’s different because it’s you, because the stakes include you, and when he looks up to try to ground himself again, he spots your favourite mug on the coffee table. Half-empty.

-

If Layla were here.

The words bounce around his head as Marc stares up at the ceiling. He didn’t mean it. Steven and Jake are both better with words than Marc, but he’s never loved you any less—he’s never wanted you to be anyone but yourself.

It’s been almost two days since you left, and it’s only now that he’s allowed himself to be corralled into bed. His grip of the hot seat is ironclad, however, which means that the body isn’t getting any sleep tonight. The sun will rise soon, and he’ll pick up his work right where he left off.

Quietly, from the back of his head: “Marc?”

“Could’ve taken the victim anywhere,” Marc murmurs, mind still whirring in the dark.

“’Victim’?” Steven’s voice shifts to be full of indignance. “How could you possibly call her that?”

“Ay, easy on him,” Jake pipes up. For Jake to immediately to jump to his defence means that Marc must be worse off than he thought, but he can’t bring himself to care. “How’s it going, hombre?”

“No sightings on any security cameras. Nothing reported to the cops.” Hours of his time—your time—summarized in a breath. His face remains blank. “I’m going to sweep the remaining areas tomorrow. Find some people who might’ve seen something.”

He’s been doing nothing but cross possibilities off his list. It’s barely any progress and his remaining leads are weak, but his resolve is as strong as ever.

“Nothing from Khonshu?”

“No.” Marc has no idea what the god is doing.

They lay in silence for a bit, listening to the maddening tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall. Anger is unsustainable, but Marc wishes that they’d return to yelling at him again. At least he knows what to do with that.

Instead, all he gets is Steven’s restrained tone: “Something has to change, you know.”

“Are you really telling me to go to therapy right now?”

“Can’t do much else.” For a moment, Steven’s bitterness resonates. There’s another conversation to be had here—one about their individual capabilities and protective natures—but Marc lets it rest for the night. He knows he’d be driven up the wall if their situation was reversed, if you were in danger and he had to rely on someone else to save you.

He still deflects. “Not the time for this.”

“Maybe not,” Steven concedes, “but you need help, Marc.”

Distantly, Marc recognizes that he’s always needed help. Even after reconciling with Steven and Jake, even after meeting you—the wounds are still there, despite how hard he’s tried to ignore them. He’s stubborn and self-destructive, not stupid.

“We’re with you, always,” Jake adds. Discomfort crawls under Marc’s skin from the supportive words, and he knows that his alters are well aware of it. It’s never stopped them, of course.

“We can talk about this after—after we save her.”

A general murmur of consensus. Marc quickly regains his footing, eager to move on from this line of conversation.

“I’ll find something. Or Khonshu will.” Steady and reassured—trying to convince them and himself. “We’ll get her back.”

Steven’s voice is small, even in the confines of their head. “But why would they take her in the first place?”

-

“He needs an avatar?” The body hasn’t slept in days. That void of feeling pulses with anger, desperation, fear—it simmers low in their gut, a torch passed along between them.

“Apep will need a vessel once they release him.”

“Here I thought one of his cultists would volunteer.”

Khonshu taps his staff against the ground thoughtfully. “They knew we would come after them, and we’re not the only ones.”

For the briefest of moments, Marc feels hopeful, like the odds aren’t as stacked against them as they thought. It disappears just as fast—Khonshu doesn’t deliver hope. The blood drains out of his face as he actually starts to consider the god’s words.

“If Apep possesses your precious lover, would you really be able to stop her? To take up arms against her?”

Khonshu leans in close then, hollowed eyes burrowing into him.

“Would you let others do the same?”

-

Over the next week, things begin to look up.

Someone’s girlfriend’s cousin says that they saw someone who looked like you walking down The Mall. There’s a fuzzy image of a car with no license plates. Khonshu catches the briefest hint of you on Westminster Bridge and follows you far, far east—it’s a mere grain of information that’s slipped through Apep’s power, but it’s enough for Marc.

They find the car abandoned in Dover, near the water. It rules out France—driving through the Eurochannel would’ve been the fastest route there, after all. Trying to take a public ferry would’ve been stupid with a captive, which means that they probably chartered or owned a boat.

The remaining pieces fall into place, and he can feel the anticipation from the others build in the background. Marc has led the charge so far with very few breaks to let Steven and Jake breathe a little. Steven misses you so much, he cries whenever he fronts. Jake has gone eerily quiet, and Marc knows what’s simmering underneath the surface; when the fighting starts, Jake will be called to action. His excitement is brutal.

It's all coming to an end soon. Laying on some dirt in the Norwegian countryside, shrouded in darkness, Marc’s never seen more stars in his life. If he’s right—and he is right—they’ll be bringing you to a nearby compound for the final step of their ritual. He couldn’t care less about the how or why. Come the morning, you’ll be here. Marc will get them inside. Jake will get to you. And then…

Marc will probably never be the partner that you deserve, and you never should’ve been subjected to his life. To sleepless nights and patching up his injuries and comforting him after nightmares that has him thrashing in the sheets—

But he can’t survive without you. It’s a simple little fact that gives him the power to move mountains; there are none bigger than the mess of his own head.

Exhaustion creeps up on him, and he can’t help but struggle against it. Fighting to keep his eyes open, his thoughts spill into the air. “Need to take care of her first.”

“Taking care of yourself is taking care of her,” Steven says gently. Have they had this conversation already? Marc’s been so singled in on this mission that everything else has fallen by the wayside. He can’t remember the last thing he ate, or what he’s wearing under the suit. The ground is the softest thing he’s ever felt.

If there’s any comparison to be made between you and Layla, it’s that he’s failed both of you. Maybe he could be different this time. Even if you decide that you want nothing to do with him after all this, he could still get help. He’ll have Steven and Jake. He’ll have himself and his scrappy resolve and the memories of this heart-aching pain, and maybe he’ll finally get better.

Marc lets his eyes close; the body needs rest for what’s to come. You don’t deserve any less than their best.

Just a few more hours.

-

Marc watches the fight from their headspace. Jake doesn’t miss a single shot and never so much as falters when one of them manages to land a hit. This is the longest break Marc’s gotten from fronting in a while, but he can’t bring himself to look away.

Jake loops their arm around the neck of cultist unlucky enough to be nearby, gripping his hair so hard Marc can nearly feel the strands through his fingers, feel it when Jake jerks their arm to the side and twists—

-

Your handlers left you alone in another room with nothing but a hard cot to curl into as you waited for them to retrieve you again. Locked inside but unbound—Marc hates how you startle when he breaks through the door.

Eyes wide, your mouth opens and closes multiple times without success. “You—you came.”

Marc wishes there weren’t so much surprise in your tone. Of course he came for you, it was never a choice for him—for any of them.

But clearly there was a part of you that thought he wouldn’t, wasn’t there? That he might just leave you in the clutches of some power-hungry cult because—because what, you’re not his ex-wife? Because you think he doesn’t love you?

The need to rectify that pierces his heart. He pulls you close, knuckles white in your shirt. “I love you.”

You shake in his arms. “Marc—”

“I love you.”

The words don’t stop; they fall from his lips like a prayer. Even as you weep, soaking the suit with your tears, he says it. I love you. I love you. I love you. In every variation, in every way—he’ll never let you believe otherwise again. He’ll say it over and over, work tirelessly to become the man you both deserve. For the rest of your lives. For the rest of time.

However long you’ll give him.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Happy new Year! I wanted to request an Reader with healing powers by touching,healing the boys of Mortal Kombat pls?

author note: Thanks! Happy new Year to you too!! As someone studying to become a doctor this request is a little to perfect LOL. feat. Earthrealm guys for my own sanity this time, but if you want you can also ask for Outworld ones.

Johnny Cage: -He doesn't believe in your powers AT ALL. -I'm not saying Johnny can't wait to hurt himself, because pain sucks, but he may get a bit careless… -He's gonna cut his finger with paper, the most stupid wound that sting like a bitch. -He visits you, you don't laugh at him, just touch his index with yours and…voilà! No wounds anymore. -He is stunned, mouth open. You absolutely need to come to Hollywood and let people pay, you know how rich you can get?? -Johnny will be attached to your hips, wounds or not. If he can't get you out your clinic he wants at least a date with the cute doctor.

Kenshi Takahashi: -He visited you after the Mileena accident. -Sadly you can't regrow new eyes, being able to heal just from tissue that is alive. -That doesn't mean you can't help him soothing his pain! Or decrease the itch he feels from the skin that grew there. -Kenshi visits you frequently, not just for medical reasons but also to share a cup of tea together, your chats a relaxing moment during frenzy times.

Raiden: -He doesn't visit you often, but when Raiden does he has a kind voice, even with broken bones and teared skin. -Luckily most of the time Raiden wounds aren't that serious, but he tends to prolong his stay in your clinic. -At times he felt asleep on the bed, heavy breath and some times snores. -He is so cute you never wake him up, but pulling a cover on his body to keep him warm and comfortable.

Kung Lao: -He has never been proud of the wounds and scar that he has, but at least now Lao can see the positive side of the bruises; visiting you. -You don't say he is dumb, and treats him with utmost care, your soft fingers on his skin make his heartrate speed up terribly. -Lao hopes you don't notice, hiding his real emotions under puns and flirty jokes. -You can totally feel Lao's heart, but find him cute, trying to sputter out puns to make you laugh, so you let him act.

Liu Kang: -He asked you to help at Wu Shi Academy because he knew about your powers. -Liu Kang made sure you had a tiny house of your own, separated from training grounds, but near enough to run to you in case of emergency. -He doesn't suffer of any injury, but he often visits you to ask if you are fine, just chit chatting about your days. -Every time Liu Kang visits you he brings a present, each time it gets more expensive. Maybe one day you'll pick up the signals, or maybe you could heal his broken courage; it has been awhile since Liu Kang asked someone out.

Geras: -He also doesn't need any kind of healing, but when someone is wounded he runs to you. -Most of the time you talk about work, you tried to pry informations about the you of other timelines but Geras never budges. -So you started to gossip with him, useless stuff, but you know he'll never tell the secrets out. -He listens to you, already knowing everything, but Geras enjoys your company so he sits still, your voice almost lulling him.

Bi-Han: -Doesn't trust you, he has never heard of healing magic. -But there you are, on your knees, him laying on the ground, your fingers repairing every cut, every wounds on his body with a mere touch. -Bi-Han starts to visit you more often, he wants to know your secret, the Lin Kuei's doctors could only improve with your guide. -You laugh at his proposal, telling him this is a gift you have since you were born and that you prefer your magic to be of everyone usage, not only his ninjas. -He scowls and exits your house. But Bi-Han won't give up, he'll convince you one day, he is sure of it.

Kuai Liang: -He doesn't have the time to have doubts about your powers because the first time Liang heard of you is the time you are healing him. -Now it is too late to heal his face scar, but for sure you can help him with his other wounds. -Liang begs you to join Shirai Ryu, but you refuse "You are good people, but my power is for everybody, not just your clan." -He accepts it…and trasfer Shirai Ryu base near your house, enough that if his men needs help you'll be right there. -And maybe Liang would be able to visit you not only for work matters…

Tomas Vrbada: -He visits you mostly because everybody is talking about your powers. -Tomas brings food, while you prepare a hot beverage for you two. You chat about your days, 'till Tomas finally asks you the question that has been wandering in his head for too long. -"So, are your powers real?" -You smirk into the cup, but don't reply. You take a knife and do a small cut on the back of your hand, you are so fast that Tomas cannot stop you. -He cannot also because the moment a drop of blood spill the wound has already healed itself. -Tomas is astonished, wide eyes. -"You are so damn cool." -You hope he'll visit you more often, you enjoys his company. Let's hope Tomas will never come for working matters, tho.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Whitebeard fucker here lol I’ve been summoned. Could you write something with a reader whose used to being the biggest guy around meeting whitebeard and going “ohhh” and wanting to climb that man like a tree? Any and all kinks are up to your choosing monsieur gator!! Also happy birthday man!

Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate x male reader

Headcanons

Bit my lip so fucking hard when I saw this request. Whitebeard enjoyers come assemble!

Thanks for the birthday wish :) I ended up getting a lot of comics and manga, so I’m very happy.

Reader possesses a devil fruit I made up I call the sun-sun Fruit. Hes also like 16 ft 9. Hes also at least 40+ years old. Old man yaoi.

You had known of Whitebeards existence ever since you started traveling the sea, who didn’t? The guy was a legend known as the strongest man alive, someone to avoid if you did the type of business you did.

You were a bit of an everything man. Information gathering, Intimidation, bodyguarding, assassin, anything that paid you a lot and you didn’t have to hurt the innocent, Youd do it.

The world government were cautious of you, but always let you get away with things others wouldn’t, as you also took jobs for them if need be. You played on every board, siding with pirates, with marines, with the poor, and with the rich. As long as they had good reason for asking for your help.

Your Sun-Sun fruit always helped with this as well, making you an extremely powerful fighter, possessing the ability to gather and store solar energy and light itself. After mastering it you could easily create explosions big enough to destroy islands, coat your body in solar energy, or coat your weapons, as well as many other things.

Your preferred weapon were spears, your most beloved weapon a naginata that had been gifted to you after a job well done, some celestial who fanboyed over pirates wanting to give you a big reward. The naginata was supposedly cursed, but you two got along a little too well most days.

All in all, you were well known in your own circles, but nowhere near as much as someone like Whitebeard.

That was also the reason you turned down your latest request to kill Whitebeard. You might have been strong, but you were never an idiot. You might have stood at almost 17 feet, towering over anyone you had ever met, but even you know Whitebeards crew was so loyal it was lethal.

The people giving you the request has been annoyed about you rejecting it, but they could do nothing to stop you as you left, on your way to the next island. There was never a destination in mind if you didn’t have a contract, so you just called it joy sailing.

It was mere coincidence that you found yourself sailing through Whitebeards territory. You had no need for a crew, as you had mastered the skill to create stand-ins with your sun-sun fruit, creating human shaped beings out of condensed solar energy.

The ship you traveled in wasn’t too big either, especially compared to the moby dick. But they had easily spotted you, and your “crew” had spotted them in return. For some reason the whitebeard crew were interested in you, though their interest made your heartrate skyrocket as the moby dick neared your own much smaller ship.

When it became clear they weren’t there to fight, you agreed to link up your ships, even if it was just because you knew they could end you before you would be able to run for it.

Stepping onto the ship, part of you was curious at their lack of reaction to your towering height, even as they had to turn their heads all the way back to look at you to ask questions about your “light crew”, or one of them demanding to know what your favorite food was, or where you got your naginata.

When you finally met Whitebeard though, it all made sense. The guy made even you feel small, even though he wasn’t towering over you the same way you were the rest of his crew. Maybe it was his presence, as he laughed and patted you on the back, greeting you by the nickname the masses called you.

But all you could think about was how seeing someone taller than you made you feel. Just feeling his large hand patting your shoulder, or seeing how he was still taller than you when you sat, was enough for you to think about booking it again.

You had no idea why, but for some reason you stuck around with the Whitebeard crew for a while. To the point where they started acting like you were part of the crew. Even when you tried to turn it down, they’d just give you a knowing look before ignoring your complaints.

In your opinion, you were too old to join someone’s crew, especially with you being known as a “backstabber”, as you never picked one specific side.

And yeah, you knew why you were sticking around for so long. It was all Whitebeard, and that weird, fluttering feeling he gave you, and the arousal he caused, but that was not as important…for the most part.

It was only after the crew had settled on the island to restock that you thought about leaving for real. One of your contacts had called you on your den den mushi, and told you about a very high paying job. You might have been so rich your ancestors would live in luxury, but you could never get enough.

Unluckily for you, Whitebeard had overheard the call. He had looked sad about you wanting to leave, but had invited you to join him for a drink before you packed up and went on your way.

That’s how you found yourself sitting beside him in front of a bonfire, just the two of you, both of you decently buzzed and flushed. Your devil fruit power made you mostly immune to alcohol, the heat of the sun burning the alcohol away before it could work, but whatever stuff Whitebeard had on him seemed to have the right kick.

Later you would blame the alcohol for your reaction when Whitebeards hand settled on your lower back. You had abandoned your jacket a while ago, some of Whitebeards crew running off with it to use it for some drunk game they were playing.

Your devil fruit also worked best without too much clothes in the way, meaning Whitebeards hand was right on your back, and your thirsty self had arched into it with a soft groan, your head flopping to the side to rest against him.

Whitebeard had chuckled, but it wasn’t his usual loud guffaw, but something deeper and smoother, like melted dark chocolate or the best whiskey you had ever drank.

His hand had rubbed and massaged your back until you felt like putty, small sparks of light and solar energy flickering across your torso as your control slipped, Whitebeard huffing amusedly at the small jolts it sent through his arm.

You would blush in the future when thinking about it, denying it ever happened, before blaming the alcohol once more. But in that moment, it was impossible to not spill all the thoughts you had about him. How he made you feel so hot inside, how much you fantasied about him, his hands, his height, his cock.

Whitebeard had seemed almost charmed, and maybe he was. It wasn’t every day that someone his age and especially his size had someone fawning over them. Maybe that was why he pulled you into his lap, with your back resting against his chest, as his battle worn hands traveled across the front of your torso.

He murmured and purred into your ears as one of his large, calloused hands groped and pinched at one of your pecs, making you gasp and arch into the touch, legs jolting until his other hand came down to hold your thigh in place.

The praise falling from his lips had you feeling much drunker than you were, vision blurring for a second before you were able to focus again, your own hands grasping at his pantleg as you huffed out a breath.

The veins across your body lit up every now and then from the stored solar energy in your body flickering, causing Whitebeard to chuckle that deep chuckle once more, making some comment about that being a nice party trick.

You were about to snap back a rebuttal, something rude about his own devil fruit power, but before the words could even leave you, the hand gripping your thick slid under your waistband.

Embarrassment flooded your system as you keened, head falling back onto his chest as your hips jolted. And how crazy was that? He was so tall your head fall onto his chest, not his shoulder, not above his own head, his chest.

It had your throbbing even more, immediately coating his palm in a layer of precum, making Whitebeard tsk teasingly, before rubbing the palm against the head of your sensitive shaft, only making you drip even more.

What could you say. You were sensitive. Being your size made it pretty hard to find a partner who could keep up with you, or someone you wouldn’t hurt on accident. And as your fame grew, less and less individuals even wanted to give it a try.

That was why you were keening and whimpering in Whitebeards lap like some kind of virgin, at least that’s what you told yourself to keep your dignity.

It didn’t explain the way you jolted and spilled into his hand when Whitebeard grabbing your chin, turning your head so he could kiss you. Your eyes rolled back, and solar energy flashed across your body as you came, gasping into his mouth, your breath so hot It would have harmed anyone not as sturdy as Whitebeard.

With his lips still pressed against yours he mumbled praise, telling you stuff that had you melting even further into his embrace, hips still jolting and twitching into his hand like you didn’t want it to end.

As you rolled your hips you could feel his own erection, and you almost wanted to pass out from just how big he felt. You had never met anyone who was bigger than you in that way, yet here Whitebeard was, pretty much offering it to you on a silver platter.

The night was spent with Whitebeard wringing more than just a couple of orgasms out of you, at some point leaving you so overstimulated and pleasured that your body had phased out, turning into solar energy.

Whitebeard had cackled loudly at the sight, seeing how you were in so much pleasure you couldn’t even stay solid. When you finally came back to yourself, he placed a big kiss on your cheek and then your mouth, making some teasing comment about it all.

The next morning you couldn’t look his crew in the eye, the knowing looks boring into your large broad back, that for once was wearing a shirt, to cover most of the hickeys their captain had left on you.

And if you just so happened to turn down the job offer your informant gave you, and if you just so happened to attach your ship to their fleet, and you just so happened to start being referred to in the same parental way as Whitebeard, who would be the wiser.

You honestly had no idea how to react when Whitebeards, and you guessed now your, crew started referring to you with a fatherly title in the same way they called Whitebeard Pops. You hadn’t wanted to be open about your relationship with Whitebeard, but to the crew it was so damn obvious.

Even when you and Whitebeard became official, and maybe even married at some point, you still took jobs every now and then, never getting enough of the thrill of money. But it was a lot less, and you pretty much cut all contact with the world government.

Sure, that got you a bounty and a high reward, but you honestly couldn’t care. After all this time you realized, maybe a crew wasn’t so bad. It also helped to have a partner that made you feel safe and cared for, whilst also leaving you limping in the best possible way.

[prettyboypistol]

Hi, first. I just want to say I love your blog! And I also wanted to request, how the mercs would react to an M!Reader with a daddy kink

TF2 Mercs Being Called "Daddy" || TF2 x M!Reader +18 MDNI

Scout

More confused than anything at first. You're no girl, after all. It weirds him out a little when you pull him to bed and call him Daddy.

It takes him a second to really understand that "oooooh this is a domination thing." and then he hops right in on the kink with gusto.

Honestly? Is more down to call you Daddy rather than you calling him that.

Pyro

Oh god, that's a weird one lol

They immediately start sweetly murmuring in your ear, gently feeling you up, and loving on you extra. It's like- they especially don't want to hurt you now that you've said that.

Is more into the caretaker role than you initially thought! Overall a wonderful experience for those looking for a soft dom!

Soldier

Doesn't like being called Daddy, prefers Sir if you're gonna be submissive.

"I'm not your sissy of a father, son! I am your superior and you will address me as such. Now, let me hear a "Sir, yessir!"

Will call you son/sonny if you're down for that, but if you're not, then just "private" is alright by his books.

Engie

Secretly has a massive daddy kink too, on the receiving end of it. As soon as you call him Daddy he's almost busted in his overalls as he stammers out excuses.

Has a bit of a kink for calling you his baby, his sunshine, and his little darling, etc. Things that make you feel smaller.

"Shh, it's alright sunshine, let Daddy take care of all them needs of yours."

Heavy

He doesn't understand at first, thinking that you have a thing for roleplayed incest. It's not the weirdest thing he's been down to fuck around with, but you're now high on the list.

Either way, he's down to clown around with you, calling you things like his little bear, his sweetness, and his little lover.

After you explain the details and intricacies of your kink, he understands it better and knows how to play the role a lot better than the first time.

Demoman(my beloved)

Laughs a little bit at first, but is absolutely down to be called Daddy.

"Looking for a shag with yer Daddy, huh? I can work with that."

Makes jokes about how he's an old man now, how his hips hurt from thrusting, and how "you young people and your libido" are gonna be the death of him. (all in good fun, of course.)

Sniper

Confusion, realization, and then the fun part- roleplay. He's one of the better daddy doms of the mercs when he's in the mood to actually give it his all.

Mostly, sex is a relief and a slow massage of tension out of him, so the intense stuff is usually once in a blue moon when he's really jealous, angry, or just pent up and needs to blow a load.

Will probably go in for a little bit of swatting on your ass as a playful joke, but if you're also into that be prepared to be tied by your wrists over his lap and spanked as you sob out for mercy.

Medic

He brings up Freud, and you cannot stop him. He asks you a million questions about how you first developed your kink, why does he exude the energy of someone you'd call Daddy, etc. (well, at least you're being open about your kinks before going to bed!)

Is totally fine with you calling him Daddy, hell, he probably gets off on it too!

I'm so sorry but he does hook you up to some medical shit and murmurs how "Daddy's going to take very good care of you." to see how your heartrate spikes.

Spy

Finally some good fucking food

He's canonically a semi-silver fox, so he loves to be called Daddy in the bedroom. To have you so submissive, so eager for him, it makes him feel 20 years younger but also 30 years wiser and more intelligent.

He like the feeling of control that comes with the title. It makes him feel like he doesn't have to be too vulnerable, only domineering and firm with you, albeit with a touch of kindness to keep you invested.

[archangeldyke-all]

Nurse Sevika!

Sevika would probably have the necessary empathy for the job given her own serious injuries of the past. She'd look good in scrubs, too.

That's all. I just love buff nurses.

Have a lovely evening <3

LOVE

men and minors dni

i could totally see her as a no-nonsense ER nurse.

she's got no patience for incompetent doctors or the countless drunk assholes she stitches up on the weekends. but when it comes to people who are in pain? sevika's a fucking heaven-send.

she's cool, calm and collected, always putting the patient's comfort first. she's usually the only one in the crowd of medical professionals surrounding a scared, wounded, patient who will actually talk to them in a cool, even voice.

"my name is sevika, i'm going to be your nurse. i've been doing this for years, i know it looks scary, but your break seems really clean. you'll be outta here in a few hours, healed in a few weeks, it's just a lot of blood. now lay back for me, i'm going to take your vitals as ran here gets you hooked up to some morphine for the pain."

or, she could be amazing in labor and delivery too-- i could really see her thriving in that kind of face paced environment.

she'd be nothing but kind to the moms, putting them and their birth plan before whatever bullshit the doctors try to spring on them at the last minute. she's an advocate for alternative births-- water births or standing births-- she doesn't give a shit if it's more inconvenient for the doctors.

she's all about the moms' comfort and health. she's not afraid to bitch at a doctor if her patient is shy, so long as it means her patient is comfortable.

she's the main support for a lot of single moms who are scared and alone during their delivery, often being the one to hold their hand while they push.

and she's always the one to talk some sense into scared-shitless dads, pulling them out in the hall when they start panicking after seeing between their girls' legs.

"listen to me: breathe. in... out... in... out... there you go. now, i need you to get your shit together and get back in there. you'll never be able to forgive yourself if you're not there for your girl in this moment because you saw a bit of blood. you think that's bad? imagine how she feels right now. take a deep breath, close your eyes if you don't wanna see it-- and get back in there."

lol but now i'm thinking about you guys meeting:

you pass out from dehydration in public and sevika's the only medical professional nearby, so she stops to help, obviously.

but when you wake up in the beautiful, strong nurse's arms, your heartrate shoots up so quick and gets so fast, that sevika's convinced you need to get to a hospital.

and you have to awkwardly explain to her that you're not having heart palpitations because of any underlying medical condition-- you're actually just crazily attracted to her. lmaooooo

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676

[icewindandboringhorror]

sneepy cozy....

[photogirl894]

Sorry for not specifying, lol. Those were from the angst prompt list! (this is the person who requested the Rex one-shot)

I can most certainly do that for you, anon, and thank you for specifying the list!! 😊

**Slight spoilers for TBB s3 ep6**

"Bodyguards"

4. "Do you know what it would do to me if I lost you?"

16. "It's my job to protect you."

Pairing: Rex x fem reader

***

Rex had assigned you to be a bodyguard for Senator Riyo Chuchi after her own guards had been lost in an assassination attempt, especially now that she was neck-deep in her support of the Clones. She was going to need someone to watch her and she didn't want to risk anymore of her own security detail, so Rex entrusted you with that task, which you were glad to undertake. You and Riyo were similar in the fact that you both weren't Clones, but supported them in everything, fighting for their right to have a place in the galaxy. Though, after the Emperor declared the Clones were dangerous and would be replaced by his own order of stormtroopers, you knew that you and Chuchi had a lot ahead of you to help protect the Clones.

Soon after, Rex really began working hard on improving his underground network of Clones to fight back against the Empire while you helped Senator Chuchi from the inside. Neither side had it easy by any means. You and Rex kept each other informed of everything going on. He was always checking in on you, making sure you were safe. You were important to him, just as he was important to you. There was always something unspoken between the two of you that you honestly were a bit surprised hadn't been brought to light yet, given the constant danger you both were in. It didn't matter, though. You both had work to do and lives were at stake, so any feelings would have to wait.

A few months later, Chuchi was going to meet with Senator Avi Singh, the former Separatist Senator, and both you and Rex were going to be at that meeting for extra security. It wasn't long into the meeting that Rex got word something was wrong and then suddenly, there was a beeping noise in the room. A thermal detonator was thrown through the window of the room and Rex jumped into action. He caught the detonator and threw back out the window, nearly seconds before it exploded.

He had saved both Senators' lives, but seeing him throw himself into danger with such a close call made your heartrate spike with fear. He could've been killed just then had he only waited a few seconds more. Before you could say anything, he ran off to pursue the assassin while you got Senator Chuchi and Senator Singh to safety.

Some time later, he met back up with you, reporting that the assassin got away. Once you saw he was all right, you suddenly couldn't hold back.

"What were you thinking, jumping in front of the grenade like that?" you questioned him.

"I was protecting the Senators. It's my job to protect them," he stated. Then he looked intently into your eyes. "It's my job to protect you, as well."

You stepped closer to him. "I don't need you to protect me...and even so, I wouldn't want you to protect me by risking your life like that."

"I'm a soldier. It's what I do," he said.

"I don't accept that," you replied, laying your hands on his cheeks. "Do you know what it would do to me if I lost you?"

Rex's lips parted in surprise at the question, his eyes searching yours, but then he turned his gaze away, guilt etched in his features on his face as he whispered your name.

With a gentle nudge, you made him turn his head back to look at you and you stated, "Yes, we're soldiers, but we're also both human. That doesn't mean our lives are nothing to just throw away for someone else's sake. We both deserve to live...and to love."

Then, with those words having been spoken, you brought your lips to his and kissed the Captain softly and lovingly, enough to get your point across and hopefully not scare him away. After seeing him nearly have a brush with death, you were willing to take a chance at admitting your feelings. The time for waiting was over.

The sensation of your joined lips sparked a fire within the Captain that only been just an ember for so long. His arms were around you so quickly and tightly, nearly crushing you against him, and he deepened the kiss almost right away, seemingly wanting to lose himself with you.

After a passionate moment, he broke away, his breath heavy. "I know I said I was protecting the Senators," he said, "but all I could think about was you. I...I didn't want to see you hurt."

"I don't ever want to see you hurt either, Rex," you said back. "Please don't ever do something so risky like that again. We need to get through all this together."

He took your hands in his and gently kissed your fingers. "Together."

Photogirl894's Angst prompts

Photogirl894's 1,300 Followers celebration fics

[swifty-fox]

oh my goshhh i love this new list

could i request ❛ let’s do something about that mouth of yours. ❜ with buck and bucky (little beasts!!) orrrrr ur hockey au if ur down

❛ let’s do something about that mouth of yours. ❜

HOCKEY AU

"Fucking cock-sucking, dick-riding absolute joke piece of shit garbage fuckin-"

"Woah there sailor." John drawls, swinging out of the bathroom. Steam billows out after him, haloing his athletes body like the angel he most certainly was not.

Mikeeysmind's 'VVV' trails out after him, a particular assault on Gale's ears that has him pressing his fingers to his temples

"Sorry, did I interrupt your preening?" Gale bites and then groans at himself, falling back onto the cushioned hotel bed.

He was trying this new thing where he didn't pick a fight with John at every turn. Results were so-so because Bucky Egan was infuriating even when not in the crease.

"Hadn't even started yet, actually."

Hooligang bursts into its opening chords before John makes his way over to his phone and taps pause, other hand fisted to keep his towel secured across his muscled waist.

"What's up Buck"

Gale knows John's amused by the rhyme. Knows it's a Looney Tunes thing, knows John was childish as they come despite his man's body

"My stream isn't working." Gale says miserably.

John stares at him for several long moments, face going through an array of emotions before settling on incredulity.

"Ice cold bitch Gale Cleven, who would instate a swear jar if he could get away with it, who helps old ladies across the street. Who goes faint at the mention of the word anal-"

"Okay-" Gale says, his cheeks coloring.

"Who can make a short-handed goal on one skate with no help and walk it off like it's nothing, is getting mad because he can't watch the Habs game."

"They fuckin' runsed us last time. Skated fucking circles around me John."

"Imagine, King Cleven not dominating the ice for one game." John drawls, coming around to the side of the bed Gale was draped over.

Gale looks up at him, water dripping of John's curls and splattering on Gale's forehead. The angle makes him blush, his heartrate kick up and his body stirs interest.

"We're playing them tomorrow."

"We're playing the Ducks tonight."

"Oh the Ducks," Gale snorts.

John grins down at him. There's a bulge in the front of his towel, clearly also having taken notice of the angle.

'Why dont you," John murmurs, reaching down to tangle in the long waves of Gale's hair, "Learn how to relax a bit."

"Fuck off." Gale snaps, but his fingers reach to untuck the end of John's towel, letting it fall to the floor.

John grips himself, pressing against the curve of Gale's cheek. He drags his head across the wet seam of Gale's lips letting the salty taste of his pre trickle down to Gale's tongue.

"yeah," John sighs, head falling back. A Grecian god in the afternoon light, "lets do something about that mouth of yours saint Cleven."

Gale lifts his head and swallows John down

thank you @1343-40 for the linguistics help LOL

[purgatory-is-life]

Mechtober prompt 24/day 24-Hijacking

another one i mightve. gone a little insane with lol

@mechtober-2024

And The Walls Begin to Tear (Rending This False and Hollow Reality) - Reality666Rift999 - The Mechanisms (Band) [Archive of Our Own]

tw; cursing, disassociation, losing time, blood, sleep walking, marius gets kneecapped briefly, implied sex and a few sexual innuendos, like maybe one idk what u want from me im but a hapless ace, nightmares, probably more, let me know what i should add!!

---

Lyfrassir could not be more confused. Which was saying something, as they lived on a sentient starship with immortal pirates after watching their entire world get consumed by an outer god.

And yet, here they were, confused out of their mind.

They had been on their way to hang out with Brian in the cockpit, content to just work on their most recent knitting project while he flew and talked about anything and nothing, and yet…

They were in the artillery storage room. Somehow.

Admittedly, Lyf hadn’t been feeling the best, they’d had a persistent and annoying headache, and had been a bit dizzy, but that didn’t explain how they somehow got to a storage unit while on their way to the bridge. Aurora was very careful to keep the storage rooms away from high-traffic areas, a few too many instances of food getting destroyed half-way through a long haul trip, and Marius and Jonny eventually resorting to cannibalism for one reason or another made it abundantly clear it was too dangerous to keep the storage areas where everyone went regularly.

Lyfrassir had no idea how they got here.

Lyf looked around at the room, and went to speak, but Aurora beat them to it.

“Lyfrassir?”

Lyf jumped, looking around frantically for where the voice was coming from, spotting a speaker hiding in the corner. “A- Aurora…?”

“Yes. Are you alright, Lyfrassir?” The voice was almost robotic, and slightly glitchy, drawing out the vowels a bit longer than they should’ve been drawn out. Lyf had never heard Aurora’s voice, according to the others she hardly used it before they arrived, and she’d given up entirely on it shortly before they arrived at Yggdrasil. She preferred to communicate with her screens when she had to.

“I- yes, I’m fine– why am I down here? Did you bring me down here for something?”

“No, I didn’t…” Cold air blew into Lyfrassir’s face. “You stopped walking towards the bridge, and then my camera footage got incredibly corrupted in several rooms. When they cleared, you were here, staring at nothing. I have been trying to get your attention for twenty minutes.”

“…What the fuck,” Lyfrassir looked around again, tail swishing as their heartrate picked up. “What the fuck.”

“Are you alright, Lyfrassir?” Aurora repeated.

“I– I don’t remember coming here? I don’t…” Lyf wrung their hands anxiously, startling at the fact that they weren’t holding their knitting supplies anymore.

Aurora blew cold air at Lyfrassir again, creaking and groaning in concern.

They took a deep breath.

“Okay… Okay, this is… weird… But… This can be a problem for Future Lyf. How- how do I get out…?”

Aurora creaked, fans whirring with unsaid concern, but she lit up a light above the door, and Lyf left. They still had to keep Brian company, after all.

—--

The colors were overwhelming, swirling and squealing at the very thought of being perceived.

“Edda?”

They were singing, and that singing sounded so familiar, so warm.

“C’mon, this ain’t funny, Edda.”

Like their mothers and their father, it was comforting. Like their brother and their sibling, It was so warm.

It was calling.

They were calling.

“Edda! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

They wanted to reach towards it, but did they have hands? No, they weren’t real. They were never real, after all.

What were they, again?

“C’mon, the joke’s over, Edda!”

An extension of its will. That’s what they are. Just another piece of It.

“The fuck is going on right now, Lyfrassir?”

They are a Key, they are a Gate. Just a pawn in It’s great game.

The colors were so warm, so beautiful.

“Lyf?”

The Void was calling.

“Lyf!”

The Void was so warm.

“Lyf, please…! I-…”

Their family was there. The colors were so pretty, moving and swirling with minds of their own. They wanted to reach towards them, join the colors around them–

“Lyfrassir!”

Jonny snapped his fingers under Lyfrassir’s nose, snapping them out of their haze. They blinked blankly at him for a moment, before glaring.

“What, d’Ville?”

“What the fuck yourself, Edda. You were jus’ starin’ off into space and weren’t listening.”

“What? You were just telling me about your concert plans, I was listening.”

Jonny growled, rolling his eyes. “Now I know you ain’t paying attention, we moved on from concerts like, ten fucking minutes ago.”

Lyfrassir stared at him, eyebrows furrowed. “…What? But– hm…” Lyf turned away, picking at the skin on their lips. Jonny rolled his eyes.

“You’re lucky we don’t know shit about your immortality, otherwise you’d have a bullet in the head right ‘bout now.”

“I’m surprised you’ve been able to resist this long,” Lyf pointed out.

“Fuck off. I ain’t dealing with whatever Raph comes up with if you die-die.”

Lyfrassir flipped Jonny off at that. “Whatever. Just continue. Where were you?”

“Fine. So…”

—--

Ever since escaping Yggdrasil and the Bifrost, Lyfrassir had been experiencing nightmares. Screaming, the sounds of boiling flesh and shrill growls, and overwhelming rainbow aura’s that burned to look at. Squamous Things from deep within the Void, things covered in eyes and tendrils constantly releasing an ear-piercing shriek from their many mouths. Every night, scenes from the Black Box and reminders of the Bifrost played behind their eyes. And those nightmares only seemed to increase in intensity and frequency after they died for the first time.

They were not pleasant. And sometimes Lyf woke up from those nightmares sore and more tired than they were when they went to sleep, sometimes they had unknown bruises and scrapes (the injuries were at least usually easy to hide, never on their hands or face or tail. It was… almost odd, really, how the bruises were never visible when they were in their normal clothes…), and on very rare occasions, they woke up in a completely different part of the ship.

Usually, when they woke up in other parts of the ship, it was to loud, blaring alarms as Aurora creaked and shrieked at them. Aurora had expressed that it was hard for her to keep an eye on them, her video feed corrupting and glitching every once in a while, only getting worse whenever they lost time or woke up somewhere else. So sometimes, she woke up with Lyfrassir out of place, they were just staring or standing somewhere, rainbow-tinted hair floating aimlessly around the former-inspector, and Aurora had no idea when or how they arrived at the rooms they appeared in. And the most effective way Aurora had found to snap them out of their strange state, was to blare alarms. She had tried to flash the lights with the alarms a few times, but that often just served to make them further disassociate.

So usually, if they woke up in a strange, different part of the ship, it was to loud, blaring alarms.

This time, though, they woke up to soft, yet chaotic and discordant violin music. It was… surprisingly nice, working to drown out the call of the Void leftover from their dreams.

They blinked, attempting to clear the colors and chaos from their vision. As the colors edged away, only remaining on the periphery, Lyf watched as Baron Marius von Raum came into view, playing that discordant melody. His eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed, as he focused on the song.

Lyfrassir felt a piercing pain behind their eyes, causing them to flinch. “Shit, fuck,” they mumbled, closing one set of their eyes and rubbing them. They tried to inhale, something stung as something warm started dripping from their nose. “Fuck!” They said, a bit louder, using their free hand to catch the thick, dark blue, slightly iridescent, blood. The noise caught Marius’s attention, and he opened his eyes. He smiled, not his usual manic grin, something different… Something a lot softer. He put his violin down, no longer playing that strange song.

“Ah, you’re back. I’m glad that worked… I wasn’t sure it would, actually. That–… Normally doesn’t bring me back.”

“What the fuck are talking about, von Raum?” Lyf asked, pinching their nose in an attempt to stop the blood.

“You were Lost, from what I could tell. I get Lost a lot too, though I bet it’s different for you…” Marius hummed. “Wow, you’re ah, you’re bleeding a lot.”

“Mm.” Lyf sat down, leaning against one of the Aurora’s many rooms. They looked around, trying to figure out where they were, but the colors at the edges of their sight seemed intent on making sure they had no idea where they were. “Where… What room are we in?”

“Hm? Oh, ah,” Marius looked around, “looks like our meat storage room. Or one of them, at least.”

The blood finally stopped flowing from their nose, and they let go of their nose, wiping their blood stained hand on their sleep-pants. “Hm.”

“Are you alright, Lyf? Do you– I can keep playing, if you think you might get Lost again.”

“Von Raum, what does that even mean? You keep saying that– I was ‘Lost’. What the fuck do you mean by that?” They snapped. Perhaps, they could have asked nicer, but they were tired and had a migraine forming quickly, they couldn’t think past the fog very well. Marius didn’t seem to mind too much, shrugging.

“I… I really can’t think of how to describe it. Funny, for a storyteller, right? I just… I get Lost a lot. In my Music. I thought, for a while, that the others understood, but I’m starting to think they don’t. They get a weird look about them whenever I bring it up. Hm…” Marius sat down opposite Lyf, fidgeting with his violin bow. “I– I live because of Music, I’m Marius because of that Music. Because it needed a Voice, a Player in the real world. It’s something like the Bifrost, I think. I don’t know. I’ve lived with that Music for my entire life, even before I was Marius. I can deal with it, because I’ve figured out how to deal with it– when to let it take over, when to ignore it, when to try to play over it. It takes me sometimes when I’m not paying attention, though. It’s a weird thing, Sound isn’t consistent, you know. But it is loud, and sometimes it’s hard not to get overwhelmed by it. Not to get Lost in it. That’s what I mean, you were Lost in your own thing. Probably the Bifrost, considering… I dunno what it’s like for you, but it’s never pleasant for me, and I figured you’d rather have something to guide you back out sooner rather than just leaving you to wander ‘round Aurora aimlessly till you found your own way out.”

Lyfrassir opened up their second set of eyes again, watching Marius carefully. Marius was picking at his flesh hand with his metal one. His violin had disappeared. “That’s…” Lyf wasn’t sure what they were going to say. They could probably say a lot of things, there were several thoughts running through their head in response. “That explains a lot. …Thank you, Marius,” they settled on.

“Of course! Like I said, though, I uh, I wasn’t sure it would work… Though it did for Zeze, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised…” Marius’s eyes glazed over, and he stared off into space for a few minutes. The silence was filled only by the occasional creaks and groans coming from the sleeping Aurora.

“What? Who’s…” They let their voice trail off, not wanting to put their foot in their mouth like they had so many times before with the Mechanisms. “Marius?”

The other jumped, tail flicking before he settled again. “Hm? Yes, Lyf?”

“Are you– alright? What was it you just said?”

“Hm? I just finished explaining getting Lost, didn’t I?”

“I… Sure, I suppose so…”

“Alright. Anyway, you going to be alright, Lyf?”

“I… I probably will be, yes.”

“Alright!” Marius stood up. “Then I’m going to head to my room. If you find yourself Lost again, or on your way to it, I’m just a knock away! Another time, Inspector!” and then Marius disappeared further into the sleeping starship.

—--

Lyfrassir was half asleep, warm and comfortable on top of Brian (he kept his lights on, dimmed but still on, when he slept, which was slightly odd to Lyf), content to just stay there forever…

…Only to have their one chance at comfortable sleep interrupted by a haunting, echoing violin song.

Lyf jumped at the noise, as Brian groaned. “What’s that noise?” Lyf asked.

“Sounds like Marius…” Brian said, still half-asleep sounding. “He does this sometimes. ‘M surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. Or, more recently, I guess…” the drumbot snuggled further into the bed. Lyf rubbed their eyes and sat up.

“Is he– why is he playing so late?” Lyfrassir yawned. “And why not in one of the music rooms?”

“‘S probably asleep…” Brian opened one eye, looking up at them. “Jus’ ignore him, he’s fine.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you get incredibly clingy after?”

“Jonny’s the clingiest…” Brian yawned. “But also the hardest to break down… If you don’t like violence as a love language…”

“Hm.” Lyfrassir was about to leave it at that, if Aurora didn’t groan loudly, and several doors slammed open.

“Shut the fuck up Marius!” Gunpowder’s voice yelled from the hall, which only served to make Marius’s mournful song get louder.

Brian heaved a heavy sigh, opening his eyes. “Okay, we should probably see what’s going on. Keep things from escalating too much.”

“As the only responsible two.”

“Ivy’s plenty responsible. Usually.”

“Eh. When she wants to be.”

“But she’s probably not going to wake up.”

“Tim if you don’t get that dumbass to shut the fuck up I swear to Space God–!”

“Okay, we really should go see…” Lyf stood up and Brian rolled out of his bed lazily. The two left the room, exiting into the hallway to observe what was happening. Jonny and Tim were both awake and holding their weapons, seemingly only being held back from killing Marius by Ashes, who was standing in front of them.

“He’s only just gonna get worse if you kill him,” the half-asleep quartermaster grumbled.

Lyfrassir turned and looked towards the not-a-doctor. He was playing loudly, a tune that sounded messy and all-over-the-place, but also… incredibly sad. A deep, unending sense of grief and mourning filled them as they listened to the tune. His eyes were distant and glazy, expression nearly blank, and he was walking very slowly down the hall. The further he got, the louder the music seemed to grow.

“Is– is Marius okay?” Lyfrassir asked. They watched in concern as he continued to play, not reacting to the noise around him.

“Yeah, he gets like this sometimes,” Ashes said. Raphaella exited her room, rubbing her eyes, while The Toy Soldier appeared from wherever it stayed. Aurora groaned loudly. “He’s not usually this loud, though,” Ashes growled. “Maybe wakes a few of us, pretty much never wakes ‘rora up, though.”

“Gets like…?”

“Plays in his sleep,” Brian explained further. “And wanders around. It is rare that Marius sleep walks, admittedly, but he plays in his sleep a lot.”

“…In his sleep?” Lyfrassir raised an eyebrow, turning towards Marius. Something about his demeanor seemed… familiar.

“It Really Is A Shame! You All Need Rest, Because You Are Mostly Biological Beings! Marius Is Not Being Very Considerate, Right Now.” The Toy Soldier pretended to sigh, crossing its arms.

“Yep,” Ashes said, sighing. The music got louder again. “This is an, unfortunately, common situation. And killing him doesn’t work, just makes him play louder and longer.”

Jonny managed to duck away from Ashes, pulling out a knife from seemingly nowhere. “I cannot fucking sleep with his damn racket!” Ashes reached out to grab him by the scruff, but Jonny managed to escape, and scurried over to where Marius was still lazily walking through the hall. “I’m gonna fucking kneecap this mother fucker and move him somewhere where he can’t fucking keep us awake.”

As Jonny went about taking Marius’s kneecaps, Lyf watched as Marius didn’t even notice, only playing that haunting tune. (The Colors hated the noise, and an anger not their own began roiling in their gut, which they promptly shut down and ignored.)

“He’s not asleep,” they said, realization dawning.

“What?” Brian was the only one who responded to them, the others still just irritated at Marius for disrupting their sleep.

“He’s not asleep,” Lyfrassir insisted.

“Yes, you said that, but what does that mean?”

“I… I don’t really know how to describe it? I think he’s explained it to me before but it’s… It’s strange and doesn’t make much sense if you don’t experience it. But he is not asleep.”

“Hm.”

“I’m–”

“If you know how to get him to be quiet and actually get some rest, feel free to try, Lyf,” Brian yawned, before placing a kiss on their cheek. “I’ll be here if you still want to cuddle later.”

“Mhm,” Lyf grinned and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll find you when I get cold.”

Brian stuck his tongue out at them, before returning to his room. Lyf walked over to Jonny and Marius, the violin-playing not-a-baron now sitting limply against the wall, still playing that saddening song. Jonny had successfully acquired a new set of Marius-kneecaps, and was grumbling about his interrupted sleep.

“I can take him back to his room,” Lyf said, “you can go back to having a threesome with Ashes and Gunpowder.”

“Fuck off, Lyf,” Jonny grumbled. Still, he stood and started stomping back to his room. “Just so long as I don’t have to deal with him.”

Lyf sighed, as the other Mechanisms returned to their rooms or the rooms they had been sleeping in. “Marius?” The violinist didn’t respond. Lyfrassir sighed, and scooped him up in a princess hold. They walked back towards Marius’s room. “You’re– Lost, right? That’s what this is, it got too… Loud?” Marius still didn’t respond, but his playing got marginally quieter. Lyf kept talking, on the way to his room. “I– I don’t know how you pulled me out of it, and I know you said it never worked to play music for you. It just pulls you further in, right? I don’t know if talking will help, then, but I really don’t know what else to do. I don’t really understand this.”

Aurora opened Marius’s door, giving a hum, a question mark appearing on a screen.

“It’s fine, Aurora. He’s fine. I– I think, anyway. I’m new to this.”

Aurora creaked again in response.

“You can go back to sleep, we’ll be fine.”

Aurora groaned, but her noises started to quiet and lessen. Lyfrassir sat on Marius’s bed, starting to run a hand through his hair. It was knotted and matted, and Lyf wasn’t sure when the last time he’d brushed it out was. They wrapped their tail around Marius’s waist, clicking their tongue. “I don’t know what it’s like for you, besides what you said. I didn’t even realize what it meant, at first. The colors of the Bifrost, they’re all I see. I hear the call of the Void, it sings with my family's voices, begging me to come join them. Sometimes I don’t even know who or what I am. It’s like a dream. I think I mostly get– Lost when I’m asleep. Because I think it’s my nightmares that trigger it. It’s– it’s strange. I don’t like it. It’s weird to get Lost.”

Lyfrassir blinked as their hair started moving with wind that wasn’t real, the pearlescent stains started glowing. Marius’s song slowed down, head turning a miniscule amount towards the glowing colors. That gave them an idea. They pulled away, reaching behind and undoing the braids that had survived their night with Brian. The colors seemed to glow brighter, catching Marius’s attention, his grief-fueled tune slowly turning into something different, something a bit nicer. Lyf returned to running a hand through his hair.

“Is it the colors? Are colors the opposite of your Music?”

“Hm…” Marius purred quietly, but otherwise didn’t react outwardly much more.

“I think I can grow to like the stains. If it helps. Norns, I really hope you don’t remember that. I’m tired, okay? My filter isn’t working correctly.”

Marius just purred, the music turning to something that resembles a more coherent song, something that sounded a lot like ‘Loki’. Lyfrassir hummed in response, a purr coming from their own throat, seeking to comfort the not-a-doctor. Their purrs sounded completely different, due to how different their vocal chords were structured in comparison to each other and the purrs seeming differing intentions, but Lyf liked to think the purring was somewhat effective to help draw Marius out of his labyrinthine songs. Marius continued to play quietly, staring in utter fascination at the way Lyfrassir’s hair was moving and glowing, colors shifting.

Eventually, the light returned to his eyes and he stopped playing. Marius slumped against Lyf, and his violin disappeared. He stared up at them, confused.

“Ly-yf?” his voice sounded rough, hoarse and gravely. “Wha– what ‘re you doing ‘ere?”

“You were– Lost, I think,” Lyf explained, tightening their tail’s grip on Marius’s waist. “And you were waking everyone up.”

“Oh…” Marius’s eyes fluttered closed. “‘M sorry… ‘S hard to ignore, sometimes… It just takes what it wants…”

“Mm.” Lyfrassir continued running their hand through his hair, and his tail wrapped around them. “I think I get it.”

“Mm… Lyf?”

“Hm?”

“My knees hurt…”

“Yeah, Jonny stole them.”

“Oh… They do that a lot… ‘specially when I wake ‘em up…”

“They seem to relish any excuse to cause violence and harm.”

“‘S cause we’re the Mechanisms,” Marius mumbled, “‘nd violence is how we communicate. ‘S not healthy. As the doctor.”

“You’re not a doctor.”

“Of medicine, at least…”

“Are you going to be okay, Marius?” Lyf asked.

“I’ll be fine,” the not-a-baron replied. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. I think ‘m finally too exhausted to get Lost again.”

“I’m sure Brian wouldn’t mind if I bring you along to cuddle. He seems more open to cuddling just whenever than a lot of you.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s Bri, and he’s a touch starved dumbass…”

“You have no room to talk on that front.”

“Mm… Shut up…”

“Do you, though? Want to join me and Brian?”

“That… does sound nice…” Marius yawned. “You’re warm… Bri’s warm… makes a good scratching post, too… Yeah… That sounds nice.”

“Alright.” Lyf picked up the half-asleep violinist, and began heading back to Brian’s room. They bit their lip and swallowed thickly, before saying, “You know, if you ever start getting Lost like that again, I’m just a knock away.”

Marius smiled at that. “Thanks, Lyf…” he fell asleep before they even got to Brian’s room, but woke up comfortably squished between Brian and Lyf some time later. He smiled and snuggled in a bit closer to them, sighing. He could sleep for a little while longer.