#its gonna be hard going forward to find the strength to enjoy shit cause the fans specifically are being so awful about this

[the-kipsabian]

what im gonna say tho, is that some people are just really inconsiderate about others

"well if that triggers you, dont look at it!" like do you think i go out my way to search for things that trigger panic attacks in me? that i look things that upset me on purpose to find something to bitch about?

no its literally about other people not considering that maybe something like needless and choking and shit isnt what someone wants to see on a casual stroll on the internet. yeah i get it that those were huge parts of what happened on saturday, but posting these images CONSTANTLY without warnings or blockable words or tags is like. its the smallest thing you could do to, idk, protect fellow fans? to be fucking considered??

"then go watch something else you whiny pissbaby" honestly the amount of times ive already seen people say this is? insulting as shit?? i still like aew. i still think both of these matches were bangers; i opted to tab out from the video on those parts, but i still enjoyed the rest for what they were worth. just because i found something triggering *and other fans are making me feel like shit about it*, speaks more about them than the product i want to watch and enjoy watching otherwise

just because they are advertised as "for the sickos" (which, full offense, i always found dumb anyways) doesnt mean i have to enjoy parts that outright hurt me OR that i cant watch the parts of the product that i like and can enjoy. you saying otherwise is elitism at best

thank you and fuck you

[alwaysbeliev]

Same as the Last

pairing: Arthur x Reader

summary: Mary Linton has summoned Arthur once again, and he has dropped everything to see her. You're left at Shady Belle to wonder what is going on and what it means for your relationship.

word count: 1,782

notes: you can find this on AO3 under the same username, if you wish to give it love there, too! it’s been a long time since i really got into writing, so i’m taking baby steps. it might be small, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

Curse that Mary Linton.

Pacing, pacing, all you could do was pace. The others were getting tired of it. Mrs. Grimshaw had already given you several chores, all of which you completed at haphazard speed. The laundry was still dripping on the line, puddles forming underneath in the already soaked ground. It was gonna take a thousand years to dry. But you had other things on your mind.

“Is that from your secret lover?” you had teased Arthur earlier. A letter had arrived for him, brought from the post office by Pearson, and he had scarcely looked at it when you asked. He chuckled at your joke. But as he studied the writing and unfolded the paper, his smile fell, replaced with a strange mixing of emotions you couldn’t quite place.

“No, it’s…” His voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the words before him. 

“Arthur?” You tried peeking over his shoulder, but in a defensive move, he turned so you couldn’t see it. “Is everything okay?”

Your mind started racing as you wondered what it might be. As far as you were aware, the outlaw had no outside obligations. None of the gang did. Quickly, you started cycling through any recent or semi-recent events, wracking your brain for an answer, anything that might help solve this weird and uncomfortable puzzle. Maybe it was some kind of summons? You’d heard of the law issuing letters. But if that were the case, then the gang’s pseudonym at the post office was compromised. Was it related to unfinished business in Valentine? 

It suddenly clicked. Right as Arthur finished reading, you said, “Mary.”

“I, uh... “ At least he had the decency to look sheepish. He nodded.

Immediately, your mood had soured. And it had only gone downhill from there. The letter arrived this morning, Arthur had read it after breakfast, and offered it to you to read after he had finished. It was from Mary, alright. She was in Saint Denis, and, yet again, she was begging for Arthur’s help. You tried not to be angry, but you were. Mary was long before you and you knew that, and yet, you were still strangely jealous of her. Despite existing long before you in Arthur’s life, she was still receiving so much attention, so much of his time, so much of his… You couldn’t think of what it was exactly, but it was infuriating. 

And now, here you were. Mid-afternoon. Roaming aimlessly around Shady Belle, getting on everyone’s nerves. Pearson, who was usually one to nag those who were bored into helping prep the food, was avoiding you like the plague. You had taken to practicing your aim, your volcanic pistol in your hand, squinting at the glass bottles you had lined up on the end of the dock. It was cruel, but you imagined each one was Mary and Arthur. Bang! There goes the engagement ring. Bang! Their stupid faces kissing. Bang!

You jumped about a mile in the air as the last gunshot came from behind you. Whirling around, you found yourself face to face with Arthur, lowering his revolver. He was smiling, just a slight lift to the left side of his mouth, and he pretended to blow smoke from the barrel of his weapon, spinning it poorly around his finger before replacing it in his holster. He approached you with his thumbs hooked in his belt to admire his work. 

“Always were a strong shot,” he commented, nodding his head towards the bottles. 

“You’ve been doing this a long time,” you grumbled. Arthur chuckled.

“Not me, I was talkin’ about you.”

You could only half shrug. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, though you knew he was searching for yours. He sighed deeply and shuffled his feet.

“Look, can we- Can we talk? I don’t want this to be turned into a, a big thing.”

Reluctantly, you lifted your eyes and met his. The look on his face was begging you to have pity on him, exposing a strange vulnerability you had been seeing more from him lately. It tugged at your heartstrings and you finally caved. You tossed your head back, staring at the sky for a second as you exhaled sharply, drawing strength from the clouds above you. 

“Fine.” 

With a flourish, you extended your arm in a sweeping, “Right this way” motion, indicating he lead the way to a quiet spot. He stared at you a moment before stepping past you, walking towards the house. You trailed behind him, your mind returning to its tumultuous state it had been in most of the day. He had been gone so long, the sun was starting to go down, painting the campsite in orange hues. What could he have been doing all day? Mary hadn’t said what was going on in her letter, just hinted at it. You had spent an hour looking over it and scouring it for information. Man, your stomach hurt from the anxiety.

The two of you ended up in your shared room on the upper floor of the former plantation home. Arthur had held the door open for you, and you found yourself unable to sit down. Behind you, Arthur tried to encourage you to sit, but you could only shake your head. He edged past you to take a seat instead.

For a long while, you just stared at each other. Arthur removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. You couldn’t bring your mind to form any words for him. All the anger you had had that morning started to drain out of you at the sight of him. There was a sad air around him, something had happened, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what. He finally broke the gaze you had each other trapped in and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“How’s Mary?” Your voice finally broke the silence. You cut him off preemptively, scared of what he may have been about to say.

“She’s just fine,” he answered, apparently relieved to hear you speak. “So’s her father, the bastard.”

“It was about her father?”

“Yeah, no good asshole spending money he don’t even have.” The venom in Arthur’s voice made your skin crawl. It was easy to forget, in more tender moments, that he was an outlaw. The fire in his eyes lasted less than a second, however, rapidly replaced by the strange sadness from before. “He, uh… He tried to sell her mother’s brooch. For his.. Hell, I don’ even know, whatever he keeps spending money on. Same shit it’s always been.”

You were frozen, watching him carefully. He didn’t look up. Thinking there was more, you allowed the silence to continue, but the air was still heavy and you needed the weight off your chest.

“Was that all?” you finally asked. Your voice came out soft and fragile. You had your answer when Arthur turned his head upwards, the slightest guilty smile tugging on the corner of his mouth, and the churning feeling returned to your stomach. “Well, did you-- Did you kiss her?”

Arthur let out a bark of laughter. Suddenly, you felt very silly for even asking. 

“Darlin’, no,” he said. With a whoosh of air, your shoulders relaxed, and you even felt a smile approaching your own face. “I didn’t kiss her. But I’d be lyin’ if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind.” The tightness returned as quickly as it had left. Anger bubbled upwards, rushing hot to your head, and you opened your mouth to accuse him, but the look in his eyes registered: it was pain. Pain?

“Arthur,” you whispered, “what happened? Please tell me.” 

Making eye contact once again, the cowboy shifted on the bed and gestured for you to sit beside him, this time closer to a command than suggestion. Hesitantly, you joined him. Your hands were placed gingerly in your lap. He returned to his previous position, elbows on his knees, and he barely looked to you as he recounted everything that happened. He started with Mary shouting to him from the balcony, to their almost argument about the what-ifs of their past, through pursuing her father and chasing down the brooch. They had gone to the theater together. A date? And, finally…

“Mary… Mary asked me to run away with her.” 

The range of emotions running through your head was making you dizzy. Too much to process, too much to consider, so much anger at her, anxiety towards Arthur’s thoughts. You stared hard at your fingers, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread on your clothes. You wondered at what the conversation was like, what Arthur had said, what his expression had betrayed. Did Mary mean it? Was she truly still thinking about him all these years later? Would she ever stop trying to take him away?

“Say somethin’.” His gaze turned to you, the worry clear in his voice. His piercing blue eyes were burning into the side of your head. Without enough time to compose a kinder phrasing, you spluttered out the first thought you had.

“So why didn’t you?”

“Why--?” Arthur chuckled, a low rumble deep in his chest. Relief, you realized, was the cause for his sudden change of tone. “Mary has played me for a fool more times than I can count. We was just kids, then. We’re… Well, we’re grown now, things have changed. Besides, I love you too much to disappear like that.”

Every other thought left your mind. I love you. I love you. I love you… He had never said those words to you. They were spoken every day through action, sure, but out loud… They were almost taboo. Tears filled your eyes as you looked up into his face. His eyes widened in alarm.

“You love me?” you managed to say, your voice strained by the tightening of your throat.

“I have, for a while,” he said. “I-I’m sorry, I jus’ didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but it’s the truth. I do love you, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Relief in the purest form of ecstasy washed over you. You threw your arms around Arthur’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. He stiffened for a moment before returning the embrace. His warmth filled you up and washed out every bad feeling and thought you had that day. 

“I love you, too,” you said softly, burying your face in his neck. He still carried the smells of Saint Denis with him, but you didn’t care. He didn’t smell like Mary Linton, and he never would. He was yours.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

all this time been burnin’ with a fever

prompt: labor (leftover from day 6, used as an alt)

whumpee: eddie diaz

fandom: 911

heyo! i am gonna be honest i cannot figure out whether this fic sucks or is okay. i straight up have no idea. but oh well. hopefully it’s ok! this fic is pre-buddie but i suppose it doesn’t have to be? idk its a lil different from the usual pre-buddie stuff i write. also i don’t mention it in the fic but i don’t want people to worry about him so chris is like, at a sleepover :) hope you enjoy this! (title from deleter by grouplove)

When Eddie had laid down in the bunk room, he’d felt just a little bit off. He had attributed this to the current heat wave sweeping through Los Angeles, but now, he’s not so sure. 

The alarm is going off and around him, his fellow firefighters are climbing out of their bunks to respond to a worker trapped under heavy equipment at a factory. Eddie gets out of bed with the rest of them, trying to pretend like his head isn’t spinning from the movement. He takes the stairs down to the truck, not liking his chances of going down the pole with his weirdly-sweaty hands. 

He feels very slightly better when he sits down in the truck across from Buck. Slightly. His head has stopped spinning. Other than that, he still feels like absolute shit. He’s hot, and horribly sweaty (he can feel his hair sticking unpleasantly to his forehead), and his whole body aches like...like something. His head hurts too much to think of an appropriate metaphor. 

“You okay?” Buck asks. It takes Eddie a moment to register the fact that anyone has spoken at all, and another moment to figure out a reply. By the time he says, “I’m fine,” he’s pretty sure there’s no way in hell that Buck believes him. 

“Are you sure?” Buck asks, immediately after Eddie says he’s fine. Eddie sighs. He really doesn’t have the strength to insist right now. 

“Yes,” he says, and hopes that it’s enough. 

“Really? Cause, I don’t mean to insult you or anything, but you look kind of terrible.”

I know, Eddie thinks. I feel it, too. He says, “thanks, Buck. You’re so nice,” instead, and Buck just shakes his head. 

A few minutes later, they arrive at the factory. Wanting to prove to Buck that he’s okay, Eddie shoots up from his seat as soon as the truck parks and determinedly makes his way outside, fighting through a rush of lightheadedness and forcing himself to keep moving normally. 

The team heads into the building, the 911 dispatcher relaying information about their victim’s location. 

“First floor, back right corner.”

Bobby leads the way, and Eddie sticks close behind him. The air-conditioning in the building has been turned off, and the atmosphere inside is choking and dry. He feels himself start to sweat even more, and wonders how that’s possible.

“Wow,” is the first thing anyone - Buck - says, when the victim comes into view. Both of his legs are pinned under a very large machine, which appears to have fallen on its side. He’s conscious, but clearly going into shock. Hen and Chim get to work on him right away, as the rest of the team analyzes the machine and waits for the paramedics to give the go-ahead to lift it away. 

“You’re good to go, Cap,” Chim says, after a moment. “He’s stable for now.”

“We’re gonna need all available hands on deck for this one,” Bobby says. Hen stands up from next to the patient to join in the effort, while Chim remains with him, monitoring his vitals. 

Bobby instructs everyone to different positions around the machine. Eddie is at a corner, and he braces a hand against it as they prepare to lift. He can’t remember a time when he felt this weak, but he knows he has to fight through this, has to give everything he’s got and more, to make sure that they get this man free. 

“On the count of three,” Bobby says, and Eddie puts his hands on either side of the corner, pressing his feet firmly into the ground. He can do this. He has to do this. He feels so, so bad. 

“Three, two, one!”

They all lift simultaneously. The machine creaks and squeaks and comes up off of the ground, and there’s a dragging sound, and Eddie’s legs are starting to shake, and his vision is going dark around the corners and his head is hurting more and more and -

“He’s out!” 

They settle the machine to the floor. The second Eddie’s hands leave the metal, everything goes dark.

--

Eddie wakes up to the overpowering smell of ammonia. He reaches out a clumsy hand to bat the source of the smell away and hears Buck’s voice.

“He’s awake!” This is not directed at Eddie, but the next thing he says is. “I can’t believe you.” 

Eddie opens his eyes and finds himself staring up at Buck’s face, half-illuminated by what he assumes is a flashlight. “What happened?” he asks, trying to sit up. 

Buck’s hand presses him back to the ground, which is where he was heading anyway - even moving slightly upwards had made his head start to feel funny, and he really doesn’t want to pass out. Wait - 

“You passed out,” Buck says, his voice not quite snapping at Eddie, but getting there. “We set down that machine, and you hit the floor. You wanna explain that?”

Not really, Eddie thinks. “Don’t feel good,” he says, and this time it’s Bobby who speaks to him, stepping into his field of view for the first time and bending to crouch next to him. 

“I bet you don’t. You’re dehydrated and running a fever.” Eddie senses that there’s something else Bobby is going to say, but he’s interrupted by Buck.

“Even though you told me you were fine,” Buck says. “You passed out, Eddie. You’re just lucky that the patient was stable enough for Hen and Chim to check you over and make sure you weren’t, you know, dying or anything.” He sounds angry, and Eddie doesn’t blame him. He can’t believe he passed out on the job. He’s stronger than that, better than that. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

“Save it,” Buck says. “You think you can get up without passing out again? We need to get you back to the station.”

Eddie shrugs against the ground. This must be a good enough answer, though, because the next thing he knows, Buck’s hands are grabbing onto his own, and then Buck’s standing and pulling Eddie to his feet. 

Everything starts to spin, but Eddie resolutely does not pass out. He does lean forward until Buck is practically supporting all of his weight. They walk back to the truck, awkwardly, Buck all but carrying Eddie, Bobby walking next to them. 

The ride to the station is quiet. Eddie leans his head against the window and wishes that the glass was cool. But it’s warm, just like everything else, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so hot in his life. I want to go home, he thinks, and it’s not until Buck replies that he realizes he’s spoken out loud.

“You’ll go home,” he says. “We’re just going back to the station to get your stuff, and then I’m driving you there.”

Some kind of hopeful feeling rises in Eddie at the thought of Buck bringing him home, caring for him, even, but he squashes it down and protests because he has to. “You don’t have to -”

“I’m doing it. End of story,” Buck says. Eddie flinches a little at the hardness in his voice, but he knows he deserves it. 

They arrive back at the station, and Buck tells Eddie to wait in the truck while he gets their stuff. Eddie slumps down in his seat and closes his eyes and tries to tell himself that he’s going to be fine, that it’s just a fever, but he’s aching and sweaty and exhausted and frankly miserable, and having a hard time believing that anything is ever going to be fine again. 

“Hey,” Bobby’s voice distracts him from his rapidly darkening thoughts. Eddie opens his eyes and sits up a little on the seat. Bobby sits down across from him and touches a hand to his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?”

That is...not what Eddie had been expecting him to say. He’d expected a stern talking-to, at the very least. Maybe some yelling. Not concern. 

He finds he doesn’t have it in him to lie. “Not really.”

“How long have you been feeling sick?”

Eddie shrugs. “I only felt a little off before going to sleep. I thought it was just the heat. It wasn’t bad until I woke up.”

Bobby nods sympathetically, and Eddie wonders why he’s not mad. Before he can think the better of it, he’s asking. 

“I am upset with you,” Bobby says, but his voice is gentle. “Coming to work sick doesn’t just put you in danger. It puts the team and the people we save in danger too. You should have told me how you were feeling before we went out on that call.”

Eddie nods. “I know,” he says, “it was stupid.”

“I won't argue with that,” Bobby replies. “I want you to get home and get some rest and plenty of fluids, and don’t even think about coming back here until you’re feeling a hundred percent.”

“Okay.”

Bobby stands to leave the truck at the same moment that Buck returns, his and Eddie’s duffle bags thrown over his shoulder, keys to his Jeep in hand. “You ready to go?” he asks, voice still distant but slightly less cold. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, carefully making his way out of the truck, bracing his hands against it to keep his balance. Buck steps closer and takes on some of Eddie’s weight without either of them saying a thing, and they walk out into the parking lot. 

For the first few minutes of the drive, neither of them says anything. Then, they stop at a red light, and Buck turns to look at Eddie. 

“You passed out,” he says, stressing the words. 

“I know,” Eddie replies. “Don’t have to remind me.”

“We were on a call, and you just passed out,” Buck continues. “Do you know what that was like? Hearing something fall to the ground and realizing it was you?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He’s too tired to formulate any kind of response, and anyway, he’s pretty sure that these are rhetorical questions.

The light turns green, and Buck starts driving again. “It was terrifying, Eds,” and a bit of softness creeps back into his voice with the use of the nickname. “We didn’t know why you collapsed. Honestly, you’re lucky that the ambulance already had a passenger, or you’d probably be at the hospital right now.”

“It wasn’t...wasn’t that bad,” Eddie says, suddenly realizing how much worse things could be - he could be in the hospital, for what is nothing more than a fever. 

“Yeah, we figured that out pretty quick when Chim started checking you over. Your fever wasn’t dangerously high or anything. You’re just sick. Normal sick, nothing scary. Chim said all you needed was some rest and some water and someone watching over you to make sure you actually got those things.”

Eddie nods, although Buck is looking at the road and can’t see him. “Glad it’s you,” he says. 

“What?”

“Glad it’s you,” he repeats. “Watching over me. I didn’t think...I mean...you’re mad at me. But you’re doing it anyway.”

Buck pulls into the driveway. “Of course I am,” he says. “Watching over you. And, I mean, I’m mad at you, too. Do you have any idea how stupid it was to go on a call like this?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I just…”

“I know.”

Buck parks the car and gets out, and he’s opening Eddie’s door for him before Eddie’s hands have even found his seatbelt. Buck reaches across him and undoes it, wincing when his hand touches Eddie’s skin. 

“You really are burning up,” he says. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

A few minutes later, Eddie is in bed, dressed in lightweight pajamas and lying on top of the covers because it’s way too hot beneath them. There’s a large glass of water and a bottle of tylenol sitting on the bedside table, and Buck is in his bathroom getting a damp washcloth that Eddie had tried to insist wasn’t necessary. 

As soon as the cloth touches his forehead, though, he changes his mind. It feels wonderful against his overheated skin, and he sighs contentedly.

“Told you that would make you feel better,” Buck says, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “You need anything else?”

You, Eddie thinks, but Buck is already here, taking care of him and worrying over him and making sure he’s comfortable even though he’s also still a little mad at him. It should be enough, Eddie thinks, but all he really wants is for Buck to lie down next to him. He can’t quite bring himself to ask, though. Even in his feverish state his inhibitions haven’t been lowered that much. 

So he doesn’t ask Buck to lie down next to him. The extra body heat would probably be unbearable anyway. But that doesn’t mean that Buck doesn’t stay. He does, and doesn’t give Eddie much of a choice in the matter. 

“I’m gonna go crash on the couch,” he says. “If you need anything, if you wake up and feel worse, anything, I’m right here, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, and closes his eyes. “Thank you.”

He can hear the soft smile in Buck’s voice when he replies, “always, Eds.”

thanks for reading!!!!! i hope you liked this fic :) i feel like i usually write something that is like a little more hopefully pre-ship but i have become such a slut for pining!eddie so. here. 

[possiblypeachy]

Helloo, so i loooved your last sam drake fic. & I wanted to ask you if you could write a really angsty fanfic about sam with a younger female reader, like 20 years younger (she would be 23) ? I know its a huge age gap so if that makes you uncomfortable you can leave it out but make it hella angsty still (with a fluffy ending) ? thanks in advance ❤

btw im an infp too ;)

infps rise up!! 

thank you muchly for the request! i had to make some interesting google searches for this and i always count that as a win in my book!

y’know when your brain feel like a static TV? yeah, that happened to mine while writing this so i apologise in advance if this is in no way what you asked for :( HOWEVER i do hope you enjoy nonetheless! i do love sam; he’s just a little bastard :,)

warning: this details a heavy injury + a hospital trip so please don’t read on it that makes you feel horrible or anything! also, the reader is younger than same (as requested) but it’s not a like huge aspect of the plot.

if others like this too, feel free to request something from me! 

― ❊ ―

You had always been interested in the hidden corners of the world. For a species that boasted about being the most intelligent, humans knew so achingly little about the world in which they lived. So, when you decided adventure called to you more than any kind of degree could, you put out a few ads in a couple of places and a certain Drake wrote back, enlisting your help with… artefact recovery. You hadn’t expected so many gunfights or bruises or those dreaded mosquitos but you certainly didn’t regret the job, coming away with a few pirate-branded gold coins and a 40-something-year-old partner-in-crime.

You probably could’ve set up for life with those coins alone-- lived a quiet life in a suburb somewhere, joined a dating app and found the love of your life, adopted a puppy, maybe-- but when Sam had called you a month or so after your Madagascan escapade, that same excitement in his voice that you’d become so accustomed to, you didn’t even need a few days to consider before asking him when the next flight was.

Now, to say that going on this rodeo was a good idea could’ve been a lie; you were still young and sprightly, and many would beg (if they even got the chance) for you to reconsider-- oh, but you have such a long life ahead of you, why are you taking it for granted?

Screw them. You’d seen more beautiful things in the past year than they would in their entire lives. So what if you had a couple of scars and scrapes to prove it; it simply adds character.

Well… perhaps this particular scrape would change your perspective on that.

You and Sam had encountered one of those forsaken puzzle things; a series of statues and corresponding paintings behind them. Each held a dagger and held their hand out to shake, a conniving little smirk etched into the grey stone. You had been so achingly confident of the answer-- nothing had gone wrong so far and you were feeling chipper. So, when you called out to Sam that you’d solved it before him, that cocky little quirk to your lips that made him huff out a laugh and shake his head, you didn’t expect his face to drop so quickly, eyes darting from your smile to your abdomen.

There was a sudden, burning pain, and you lurched forwards toward the statue, placing one hand on its shoulder to keep yourself upright. Everything seemed to blur when you looked down, the jewelled dagger now withdrawing from your gut covered in blood. The statue looked as if it had never moved, if you discounted the bloodied weapon it held and the small pool that had accumulated at the base of it. Your free hand, shaking, came down to try to stop yourself from bleeding, fingers almost immediately red and warm. “Sam--” His name was coughed out, the tension it caused making you cry out in pain.

He had seen your smile drop, your eyes widen, the blood bloom across your shirt. He had watched the statue withdraw, that grin it held now dangerous. Oh, fuck. This couldn’t be happening. Sam had promised everyone-- he had promised you that nothing like this would happen. Of course he had fucked it. 

He was already there. He had been there immediately but, beyond the pain and shock, you hadn’t realised. “Holy shit! (Name)?” His hand came to your shoulder and, at the contact, you nearly crumpled, as if his touch had brought you back to reality. Unfortunately, along with that came the more acute realisation of how much fucking pain you were in.

“Oh, fuck! God--” You curled over and vomited. Fuck, it hurt. The movement made you grab at your wound more, muscles trying to tense but just searing with pain instead. Lifting your arm to wipe your mouth felt so much more difficult, lethargy already settling in it seemed.

Sam muttered something to himself, tucking his shoulder under yours and using his arm to help keep you propped up. “We’ll be alright-- you’ll be alright. We just have to get back to the car and--” he cut off, swearing, at least you thought; everything sounded like it was underwater-- muffled and slowed. 

You let your head drop a little, face contorted in pain with each step you took. This wasn’t supposed to happen-- this was never supposed to happen. These trips were meant to be all beautiful vistas and treasure. You didn’t mind the occasional gunfight and, while being punched square in the nose didn’t feel great, you’d let it happen more if only to walk into more of these preserved pieces of history all over the globe. But, this? Fuck this. You should’ve been more prepared.

“Everyone said--” you groaned again and, when you were finally able to muster the strength to look at Sam, he glanced down at you with such panic in his eyes that it almost made your chest churn more than your stomach, “They said this shit would be bad for me.” The laugh you gave was painful and you regretted it immediately, stumbling over your own feet when you tried to hold your abdomen-- as if that would provide some kind of relief. It did not. 

Sam furrowed his brows, moving you slightly to make sure you didn’t slip from his grip. “No, no-- it’s alright! You still got life in you.” He tried to laugh but it didn’t sound like him and that just made you spiral a little faster. “There are still places that are out there waiting for you, okay?” Sam’s voice was rushed, like he was torn between trying to comfort you and just trying to get you both the fuck out of here. 

The light of the outside was blinding, the sun bright and unyielding overhead. Sam fumbled with the keys in his back pocket and then there were the telltale beeps of a car being unlocked. The sound made him flinch but you were beyond that, wanting more than anything to just sleep. It was hard to focus on anything else, actually.

Sam bundled you into the back seat and you groaned at the way your body had to twist and curve into the backseat. Every breath hurt; it was like reliving the injury each time you inhaled. Your hand was blood-covered now but your shaking had died down. It took too much energy to shake-- Hell, it took way too much to even lift your eyelids again after each blink. 

When the driver’s door slammed, you jolted slightly-- like someone had dragged you out of the very early stages of sleep. “Sam,” you began, voice quiet; it was as though you were in another universe entirely, “are we gonna…” you trailed off, forgetting where you were. It was strange: you felt like the pain was subsiding. It was almost… peaceful. 

The car lurched into motion and you saw him glance at you through the rearview mirror. You thought he might’ve been saying something to you, his free hand reaching back to get your attention. Black encroached on your vision and your head lolled backwards briefly but you pulled it forward again soon after as though it were attached to some kind of bungee rope. Is this what dying felt like? 

Maybe you were okay with this. It was calm-- quiet, even. It was almost like the pain had become an afterthought-- a dull thrum in your abdomen. You would miss this, though: the adventures. You would miss the fact that everything seemed more colourful in other countries. You would miss the sweet tang of sea air and how free you felt on the open sea. Despite the blur in your vision, you tried to focus on Sam and his helpless mumbling. Tears welled in your eyes. God, you would miss him too. 

The next time you blinked, your eyes stayed closed.

---

A steady beeping woke you up. That and a horrible white light beating against your eyelids. You tried to groan but even that was difficult with how… disused your voice felt. A chair creaked to your right and then--

“(Name)?” 

It was him.

“Sam…” Trying to sit up was like an instinct but a hand came to your shoulder to keep you down. It was then that you finally opened your eyes, pupils struggling against the light. “Did you find the treasure?”

He breathed out a laugh-- almost like relief. “If you count shitty hospital coffee and the most uncomfortable chair ever as treasure, then yes.”

Your brows furrowed. “Hospital?” The strain on your voice made you cough. This was a bad reflex on your part. An ache flared up again in your lower stomach, and your arm flew there to support the injury. Now, everything was starting to come back. “Ah, shit. I remember. God.”

Beside you, his lips pursed. “Yeah. Almost got bested by a statue, honey.”

You gave him a look and he smiled. Despite his words, the normalcy of it all was comforting. “I may be bed-ridden but I’ll still hit you, old man.” There it was: that smile of yours. He struggled to even feign offence with how relieved he felt at seeing it. In fact, if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, he might’ve welled up a little. “Sam?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” He rubbed his face before leaning onto your bed. “I was just worried, is all.”

He looked like he had done more than worried; the dark around his eyes told you of that. Quiet fell over you for a few moments and Sam took to rubbing your leg over the array of hospital blankets piled atop you. It was nice, comforting, and for a time you just allowed yourself to be. 

That was until he swallowed loudly-- nervously-- and withdrew his hand. “(Name), I, uh--” he cleared his throat-- not because he needed to but just so he could have a couple more seconds to think about what he was going to say, “I’ve been thinking about what happened, and I know that you’d disagree, but I’m not sure you should--”

You groaned as you shifted yourself up the bed, cutting him off. You knew what he was going to say: that you shouldn’t come on the next trip with him. That would turn into only the occasional call between the two of you, asking about his most recent escapades-- if had any spots open on the crew next time, to which he would decline. Then, there would only be texts-- a barren waste of white space between messages and timestamps that began to highlight the weeks and months between each text. “Don’t, Sam.” His brows furrowed and you pointed a finger at him, accusing. “I know what you’re going to say and I’m not going to listen to you.”

He pursed his lips briefly then pinched the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger. “You could’ve died. You can’t just fuckin’ die--” he leant forward so his ranting wouldn’t disturb any other hospital dwellers, “You can’t die yet; you’re-- what?-- twenty-three?”

“Oh, fuck off, Sam! I’m not a child; I can handle myself!”

In one gesture towards your injury, he had messed up. “Obviously fuckin’ not!”

Silence. Your mouth was agape and he flinched back immediately. For how many times people told Sam to think before he spoke, he hadn’t seemed to have learnt. When the words settled in, you leant away from him, back into the cushions behind you. “I think you should go.”

He blinked once. And, then again. “What?”

You couldn’t even look at him. “Get out. I’ll call a nurse if i need help since I obviously can’t look after myself--”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, (Name)--”

“How did you fucking mean it then, Sam?” He stood from the chair and it creaked-- the only noise in the room. You didn’t even want to give him the chance to give an excuse. “Or, am I too much of a child to understand what you mean?” In the middle of his pacing, he turned to face you, simply staring despite your ceaseless ranting. “Sorry that I’m such a huge fucking inconvenience to you! It’s not like the same kind of shit has ever happened to you or anything, huh?” He watched as your eyes began to well, face etched with frustration and betrayal, words spat out of your mouth like they put a bad taste there.

He had to cut you off or else you would carry on; you shouldn’t feel like this right after… everything that happened. God, he was such a dick. He shouldn’t have brought this up-- not now at least-- and now look at you: almost crying because of him in a hospital bed thank to stab wound that you got because of him and-- “I don’t want you to get hurt again because I fuckin’ care about you, (Name), okay?” It was his turn to rant now and your turn to stare at him. “And-- and, I have no idea what I would do with myself if you-- if you had fuckin’--” the noise he made was a mix between a sigh and growl, like he was annoyed at himself, then he leant against the end of your bed. A few moments passed; you didn’t know if you were supposed to say something to him during this or not but all you could fathom doing was to just stare at him, dumbfounded. Then, he breathed out a simple: “I’m sorry. For being a dick.”

You swallowed, gaze flickering away from him briefly. Then, you huffed out a laugh-- a terrible mix of amusement and disbelief. “Glad you can recognise it, Sam.” He blinked at you, then shook his head; that certainly wasn’t the response he expected. Something more biting-- venomous--perhaps, but not that. You gestured back to the seat that he had pulled up beside you and, with some degree of caution, he sat down again. You held out a hand and he took it, rubbing a thumb over the underside of it, touch light on your skin. “You can’t prove that this isn’t the painkillers speaking but,” it hurt to lean closer to him but you thought he was worth it-- even with the deer-in-headlights look he had, “I care about you too.”

It was then that he smiled-- grinned, even-- and you finally heard him laugh again. “Oh, I’m definitely holding that against you, (Name).”

“Will you hold this against me, too?” You pulled your hand away from his, only to place it on his face instead, thumb tracing a line over his cheek. His eyes flickered down to your lips, obviously unsure on if he should close the gap, that worry still bubbling in his lower stomach that he was daydreaming again. So, you did instead, the ache in your gut less pressing than your want to kiss him. It was short but to say it didn’t make your heart soar and a faint colour flush Sam’s ears would be a lie. You hand stayed there after, fingers reluctant to move away-- to lose him; the thought scratched at the back of your mind.

He let out a sigh of relief-- a little ‘hoo’ noise coming with it. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted that.”

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Diego Hargreeves x reader

-Make me bleed-

Warnings: blood, sassy reader, implied sexy times

Masterlist

-Part of the What a Time to be Alive universe

It’s yours and Diego’s weekly training session in the nighttime seclusion of the boxing gym. You’ve had a relatively chill day and want nothing more then to rock the shit out of Diego, and not in the way that he’d prefer.

Tonight you’ve decided to use wooden sticks for agility practice and so far you’ve knocked his ass onto the mat more times then he could count. You can tell Diego’s slowly growing with frustration which is just what you’ve intended, he gets significantly better and more aggressive when he’s frustrated with losing. Thus turning himself into a worthy opponent for your more violent tendencies.

With a swift dodge to the left, you quickly wip your stick around and smack Diego right in the legs, essentially knocking his feet from under him. He drops his stick and lands with a hard “humf” onto the soft leather mat. He rolls himself onto his back and looks up at you with an annoyed grimace as you just give him a cheeky smile while twirling your weapon in your hand like a pro.

“Pain is just weakness leaving the body.”

“Shut the fuck up Y/N.”

You laugh at his dramatics and his adorably angry puppy dog eyes that are glaring with fury from his spot on the floor. You walk over to his wooden stick, picking it up, you hold it as you wait patiently for Diego to stand up.

“It’s fine if you’re too tired.”

“I’m not...I’m not too tired. Just caught me off guard is all....I’ll be ready from now on.” He exclaims confidently with a new look of determination upon his handsome face.

“Oh in that case.”

Without warning you throw his wooden stick at him where it roughly lands across his stomach, knocking the wind out of him with the force of your arms strength. He tightly grasps it in his hands while his breathing controls once again, his face significantly more irritated then before. But you’re having to much fun watching him struggle to care if you just pissed him off, he ate your prized burrito last week without asking and now your gonna let him pay for his actions.

“Alright tough guy, make me bleed.” You challenge with an amused sneer, he smirks back at you and accepts your enticing proposition.

Suddenly he lunges to your left, swinging his stick over towards you at lightening speed. Time slows down as you turn your head in its direction, with catlike reflexes and the strength of a lioness you reach your hand out and instantly stop its charges. Grasping his weapon in your left hand you twist underneath it while letting it go, keeping your little battle rolling even though you could have just ended him, you’re being nice for once.

Instantaneously Diego throws his weapon back at you, it flies towards your stomach from the right. You slide backwards, the wood missing you by an inch, you can hear the swoosh of the stick as it swings in the air. He throws his arms up once again, pressing forward with his swift assault but before he can crack you across the face you abruptly block his advances with your own stick. The clack of the wood sounding throughout the quiet of the large boxing gym among your labored breaths and random grunts.

He swings the stick at you once then twice then a third time, each swat lacking any and all contact with your skin. You block more advances, once from the right then from the left, a swing towards your legs and a slash to your shoulder. None doing any damage to break any flesh or bruise it for that matter.

“Who taught you how to fight? Casper the friendly ghost!?”

“All you’ve been doing is dodging me! Scared of a little pain Y/N?” Taunts Diego with a cocky smirk as he swats at you once again.

“Alright Puss’ n Boots show me something to be scared of.”

“Gladly.”

With a growl that honestly might have really turned you on if not for the current circumstances, he charges with his stick gripped tightly in both hands, swinging it right then left. Making contact with your own one as the two of you dance around the mat, nothing but the satisfying sounds of your sticks clacking together. With a move that you had not anticipated for, he suddenly swats the stick out of your hand in a rather calculated approach that’s left you wide eyed and a bit impressed. Apparently he is learning, or just lucky, he smirks at you with a shit eating grin.

“I win.”

“I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself knifeboy.”

“Well if you insist on losing twice, your choice.” He practically jabs in a sing-songy type voice, you just roll your eyes, positioning yourself into a fighting stance.

“You’re adorable.”

He bites his lip, trying to conceal his smile that’s giving away how much he’s truly enjoying this. You tilt your head to the side as a sly smirk pulls at the corner of your lips before you drop to the mat, your leg swinging out and making definitive contact with his shins. He immediately falls to the ground but catches himself with his hands as you twist around to face him once again. The both of you staring at each other eye to eye until he quickly shoots is stick up towards your exposed shoulder.

You feel a jolt of pain race up your arm at the abruptly unpleasant contact of the wooden staff to your bare skin. You hold in a scream as you fall to the floor from the force of the blow, instantly you shoot up to face Diego once again. He looks concerned but only for a second before he realizes the fury flashing in your eyes. Quickly collecting himself, Diego throws more jabs at you, ones that you smartly block with your forearms. Each hit stings but your making progress and the would be bruises heal instantly.

Diego fakes a hit towards your knees, as you reach down to stop the blow he quickly counter attacks and without warning you look up just in time to feel the instant pain of the wooden stick cracking you across the cheek. Fucking ouch. This time you do let out a small muffled yelp through your clenched teeth. He drop the stick and quickly begins apologizing for taking it too far. You stick a hand out for him to stop, turning around to face him again he looks on in fear as your wound drips blood down the side of your face.

He had sliced a messy cut into your cheek, the skin peeled back as blood seeps out, turning into a ruby river all the way down to your jaw. It burns and feels wet but you don’t mind as it finally fuses back together again, your once nasty cut now healed and looking just as it was not even ten seconds ago. You wipe the blood with the bottom edge of your black tank top, giving Diego a five second show of your stomach.

“I knew you had the balls.”

His face breaks out into an abashed smile, proud of himself for gaining your recognition and taking the upper hand for once, “Did you intentionally let me win?” He asks.

“Course not, you’d know if I was going easy on you.”

“Well...we done? Cause I’d rather not hurt you again.”

“Babe you could never hurt me, I for one had a fantastic time throwing you around. It’s very sexy of me.” You boast while taking your hair out, letting the sweaty mess fall around your face. Diego smirks, shaking his head at your ability to always unintentionally find a way that makes him love you even more.

“I can’t argue with that. It is very sexy of you, doing anything really.”

“Well then, it would be even more sexy if you put those sticks away and followed me to the shower.” Diego’s eyebrows raise at your not so subtle implied invitation. You give him a wink before turning around and swaggering off to your room to get clothes and some towels. He watches you the whole time, a big stupid grin adorning his sweaty face.

[honkster]

Yay meta

:)

1. Ranboo compared to the other anarchists of the server.

2. C!Tommy’s mental health.

3. C!Dream as an immortal insane god.

4. Ghostbur’s resurrection.

5. Who betrayed who Techno vs Tommy edition.

A bit of an after-thought - everyone on the SMP is traumatized. Absolutely everyone, no one is handling everything in a mentally healthy way. That’s why it’s meaningless to try to say what’s wrong and what’s right, that’s why it’s all morally grey - everyone is doing things because of their own warped perception of the world, the right and wrong blur when everyone thinks that they’re right and everyone else is wrong. Trying to justify someone’s actions with logic and moral righteousness is inherently time-wasting, because everyone is acting how their feelings let them at the time.

Saying who’s right or wrong, trying to figure out villains and good guys <<< Analyzing characters by their actions and trying to understand WHY rather than SHOUD THEY HAVE.

Probably a bit of a backwards way to say that I don’t care if Tommy or Techno are wrong in their argument - L’manburg was destroyed, Tommy thinks Techno is bad. That’s the end of that story, stay tuned for what Tommy’s gonna do now.

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#1

There is just a very huge difference between Ranboo and the other two anarchists of the server.

Ranboo, while being strong in his beliefs, is a non-violent person. Yes he’s stacked, yes he could fight, but he chooses to stay on the sidelines and just watch the action unfold. He’d rather listen in to people and then make conclusions about their actions and decide on things by himself. He’s hard to sway, Quackity may have softened his viewpoint slightly, and I genuinely hope that Ranboo follows through with that and decides that teams and groups is something that kind of needs to happen before the idea that all conflicts are a personal thing between two people can actually make sense. People are stronger together, especially those that don’t have good gear or pvp skills. The weaker people, the ones lower in the food chain, don’t have that many options for getting their point across. The server is already dominated by the strongest, most skilled, most geared people, and those are the people that matter, when it comes down to it.

Quackity is very much a unique case. He has managed to do with four people what L’manburg and all of its inhabitants didn’t manage for the longest time. He is very much a main player.

The other two anarchists are both very violent. Dream was always like that, he hasn’t shown a crumb of being able of change or considering a different opinion (extreme delusions or just extreme self-confidence? Either one makes him a prick), but Techno actually had an arc where he made the entirely wrong conclusions.

I don’t think I’ve talked about the Butcher Army much.

So Techno blew up Manberg, threatened to take down any government that sprouted up and then dipped. He made his little cottage, he went on a retirement arc, so on and so forth.

But then the Butcher Army formed.

And their one target was the pig.

And they went out of their way to track him down, to prepare to kill him, they arrived there and threatened him, and they said that it’s time for Techno to pay for his crimes, and they reacted how anyone else would when being attacked – they attacked too. They took his horse to get him to stop, they brought him up for execution, they didn’t manage to kill him, but they switched targets once they realized that they can’t actually kill him while literal god is on his side, helping him.

The conclusion there wasn’t that government is evil and abuses its power. It’s that violence is paid forward with violence.

It doesn’t really matter that Techno misunderstood. Either way he would’ve returned to good old Blood for the Blood God Technoblade, but I fear that this event reinforced his very wrong belief that government is the source of ALL problems on the server.

If he would say that government is the cause of MAJOR conflicts that wouldn’t happen if government didn’t exist, yeah! Yeah, I agree with that actually. But he’s saying that EVERY conflict is because of government.

The disc war was not because of government.

The Pet War was not because of government.

Most of the rivalries of the server are not because of government.

Tommy was not… Actually (yeah Tommy was exiled because of government and the fact that the sentimentality for L’manburg seemed very important at that point. Things shouldn’t be more important than people, people you can’t just replace. But…) Dream specifically when he went after Tommy targeted L’manburg. If the country didn’t exist, Dream probably would have gone about it another way, probably one more difficult, but he wouldn’t have involved all these people whose only connection to one another is a flimsy city built on stilts. I still hate how Techno refuses to acknowledge that Dream WAS the cause of Tommy’s exile, not government.

But what if Techno was big brain?

Yeah, things shouldn’t be more important than people. Is that what he’s suggesting? That government favors power over giving up land/buildings/countries for their people, knowing that if they lost their country they would no longer have power?

That would be very interesting!… If his actions actually indicated this.

Techno didn’t chunk error L’manburg because he thought those buildings gave power to someone over another. He did it out of revenge, claiming that it still lined up with his anarchist beliefs and that he was doing good. Techno released withers, the most destructive and hard-to-kill mob available to the server, he stalled while Dream essentially set up nukes above the city. They didn’t do this out of kindness and want for the people to have freedom, they KILLED the people that they were so “graciously” “saving”.

Technoblade and Dream are both violent anarchists who misunderstood what the word means. They don’t seek order in the chaos, they don’t seek a peaceful anarchy, they just want blood.

Which makes me very worried for Ranboo. I don’t think that he will get influenced by the two, if the two ever come back together to stir up shit again. I don’t think Ranboo is going to believe Technoblade when he says that government is the cause of ALL problems, because Ranboo doesn’t just hate the factions of the server. He has said that Dream is the reason for a lot of conflict on the server, he understands what Dream is up to. If he will agree with Techno at the beginning, he certainly will find issue in Techno considering Dream a worthy ally.

I just hope that Techno LISTENS for at least once in his life.

(But I won’t be too sad if it’s Phil Ranboo manages to convince. Might actually be easier to get through to anarchist pig Blade that way…)

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#2

I worry for c!Tommy’s mental health.

I know this probably is never going to get addressed rather than that one tiny little plot point where he got exiled for no reason but being as resilient as Tommy is, so constantly himself without apology, so constantly in everyone’s faces and just out there so much, so purposefully annoying just because it’s entertaining for him… I don’t think he’s alright.

The many times he has been beaten down, how many times people have battled him and won, how many times he’s told to shut up and just take it – it makes you wonder how come he hasn’t just given up by now and toned it down so people stop hating him.

Yeah, he’s resilient. Yeah, he’s annoying that way. But I seriously doubt that he can take all that he takes and still be perfectly okay.

One insult means nothing. One time can be just a made up thing to make you pissed off.

Same thing twice? Someone’s just mocking you.

Three times? Wow okay these guys must all be friends and they gossip about me!

Four times?… Hey how big is your friend group exactly?

Five times?…

Six times?…

Seven?…

How about 20.

No matter how ridiculous something that someone noticed about you may be, if repeated enough times, you almost sub-consciously start to believe it. Lots of people notice this – hey I can also notice it!

C!Tommy being annoying on purpose, saying that it’s just entertaining for him… Doesn’t that sound like a really depressing thing to enjoy? Something that garners you so much attention you literally get exiled?

And the fact that, even during Dream enforcing the exile, even when he escaped, when he appeared in Techno’s house and huddled under it like a raccoon, he was still so painfully annoying you just want to punt him?… Does that really sound like just a funny pastime for him and not a defense mechanism against all of the shit people put him through, something that he does out of habit because even though it gets him in trouble a lot of the time, it’s also the only way he can actually react to events and people threatening him, cause what is he gonna do, actually threaten them and get them to leave that way?

I dunno this may be dumb… I may be projecting slightly… Wondering where all of his resilience comes from when actual good things that happened because of him versus the bad things that people constantly blame him for… Sir where do you get that strength and how can I sell my soul for it?

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#3

Oh I’ve written characters that think of awful, violent things as fun…

I actually really like those characters.

I don’t know why I always make them the most traumatized, split-personality, abused and manipulated victims-turned-absolute-monsters.

No wait I do know why.

BECAUSE IF YOU THINK THAT CAUSING PAIN TO OTHERS IS A FUN TIME AND YOU WANT TO DO IT AS OFTEN AS YOU CAN JUST TO SEE THEIR EXPRESSION OF PAIN, THERE IS SOMETHING SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH YOU.

Dream’s no different. We haven’t seen much of him, other than his motivation and the fact that he goes the wrong way about thinking of means to get to the end. He hasn’t revealed a traumatic past or any real reason why he targets only one person if torturing everyone on the server would probably be way more “fun”.

But he is called god.

And THAT lines up with one of my favorite things to talk about!

Immortals :D

You see the whole concept of a god or an immortal being is at its core something we shouldn’t comprehend. Death and the fact that it will happen can be counted as a reason for a lot of our motivations, so how does it affect one’s thinking if one of our core reasons for life is erased?

I can dump a whole philosophical essay here but I feel like it is highly unnecessary. Dream, as an immortal god on the server, has access to stuff that many people have to grind hours of their life for. This twists his perception of the value of certain items, and also certain actions. The fact that he cannot die also affects that perception, and in his long life he has probably had the same thoughts a lot of immortals have – few things are meaningful in life, few are worth sacrificing things for and few are just as immortal as they are.

This, of course, can cause a little thing called an existential crisis, and it can break an immortal, especially if they were once human and most definitely mortal. We don’t know for sure what Dream is, but assuming either scenario makes his pursuit of fun and drama valid.

If he was once a human and by some dark magic gained immortality, his want to see how humans react to things being destroyed, or how humans fold under torture, may be a twisted way of analyzing himself, trying to understand how he could be a part of them, trying to reconnect with his old self, attempts to return to the mortal plane, there are many options but all firmly lead into “this is just a fun experiment for him”. How people throw mentos in a bowl and pour coke over it just to see an explosion. That’s Dream with the SMP.

If he was always a god, then it gets even more interesting (and thematically relevant!). He never understood these creatures that run around and desperately try to prevent death while simultaneously causing so much of it. If Dream doesn’t understand mortals and death as a concept, then his view of them, based on what he’s seen of the SMP, is that humans SEEK violence, and drama, and pain, and harm. They purposefully create meaningless things to then give them meaning and then feel pain over them. He is utterly confused by humans, but he also understands them quite well.

Taunted, insulted? Retaliate with force.

A country that demands peace? Blow it to smithereens.

A sentimental thing that you could literally replace within a fraction of a life, a little thing of pride that you were able to acquire?

It can control people.

And he seems to understand THAT concept of humanity perfectly well. The want for power, the seeking of control, the simple want to somehow be above your equals, somehow stand out and be admired.

Dream grasps that concept so well he might as well be human.

I don’t know if this humanity side of Dream will be his hubris, if the weakness he acquired from humans – sentimentality over objects that can very easily be replaced and mean nothing in the grand scheme of things – may actually come back after he so rudely pushed it away.

We don’t know enough about this guy. We can make some conclusions, sure, but uh… The simple fact that he causes chaos for fun means that whatever we may think the reason for his motivations is, we will probably fail to understand him as long as we think logically.

C!Dream is an absolute prick. I want to punt him.

But I won’t until he explains why he chose to be a bad copy of the Joker with immortality sprinkled on the fucked up cake.

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#4

Wilbur is coming back into the plot!

Not that Ghostbur isn’t important to the plot. His character is just stagnant because in order to give him proper char development you need to address some very serious mental issues and that’s not exactly something the SMP does often. (Most serious I’ve seen it is Tommy’s exile arc and maybe Fundy’s adoption stream)

So they’re bringing back Alivebur. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything. Literally everything.

I talked about it once, how if Ghostbur’s character wants to reach peace – finish his arc – firstly he has to confront his trauma. At the same time I said that if he was brought back to life, it could hinder his already done little progress of adapting to ghost life and probably reset him. Very certain conditions would have to be met in order for Ghostbur to gain something out of being brought back to life, and a lot of those conditions lean on Alivebur coming back as a certain “version” of himself, which cannot be predicted simply because there isn’t a resident ghost expert on the server. No one knows how these idiots work.

The worrying thing is that they are most definitely bringing back Alivebur. There wouldn’t be need for this plot otherwise. So they will definitely succeed, Alivebur will definitely be brought back, and he will be important to the plot.

What can we theorize about knowing those things?

Mmmm… Isn’t it weird that Ghostbur said he wants to quit being Ghostbur after L’manburg was destroyed? Is it a want to stop ignoring bad things that are happening, since he knows he is going to forget this and move on and he doesn’t want to keep escaping anymore? That’s a good motivation.

Or is it because Ghostbur is like the old spirit of L’manburg, both connected to it physically and mentally? Would Alivebur want L’manburg back, considering that was his only goal in his life, to destroy it, or is he finally going to feel fulfilled that it is over and his obsession with it can die?

I dunno! I have no idea what part they want Wilbur to play in the upcoming plot. It’s very unclear if Wilbur is going to be a side character that moves the plot in little ways or if he’s going to become the main character again or if, and this is probably my most likely theory, the resurrection fails at first and it leads the whole gang, with Ghostbur up front, down weird paths that somehow end with Dream.

(Cause we all know that guy is not going to just write himself out of the plot if he can instead continue being the villain)

It all feels like it’s going to connect, finally. All of the main people from the past getting back into the spotlight in a very convoluted plot to get one of them back into the land of the living.

Don’t really know though. Wondering how resurrection works, that’s all. Knowing that info, may be possible to make a better theory.

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#5

There is no one right in the “Tommy betrayed Techno” vs “Tommy realized Techno is not a good influence on him” argument. Neither one is right, but neither one is completely wrong. Neither character is in the right, or in the wrong, and it doesn’t really matter who’s right or wrong in this scenario, fact is it happened and the people reacted how they did.

There is only one thing to say about Techno and Tommy, and probably the only thing I’m kinda feeling very strongly about.

Sometimes the refusal to be swayed to another side or believing in yourself gets you called selfish.

That’s both about Techno and Tommy.

And a lot of other people on the server.

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Here’s a cookie for reading all of that. I can also bake your favorite muffin if you want :3

[artsninspo]

Heartbreak 3/3

COMPLETE MASTERLIST

PART I | PART II

PAIRING: Erik x OC

Summary: Processing a break up can be hard, especially as the perfect woman to an ungrateful asshole. Healing from heartbreak Elle finds herself finding comfort in Erik’s company but he’s offering more than just kind words as a consolation. Oh, and Erik’s the ungrateful asshole ex’s cousin.

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Erik had spend the night with Elle five times in the past three weeks. It wasn’t what he did. In fact he made it a point to keep things clear with women so there was no confusion about what he wanted out of the relationship. Which, was almost always great sex without strings or any other attachments. But here he was with an arm around her watching her as she sleeps under the moonlight. Lifting his arm a touch he scoots out of bed pulling on a pair of shorts and using the restroom again before heading onto the balcony for some fresh air. This morning had been a lot; the past few weeks had been a lot.

“Earrrrrr—iiick” Elle moans feeling the rush of an orgasm as her first memory of the morning. Her second to be fair. The first a was from making out fingering and head.

“A little longer baby” his voice is tight. As he plows deep into her fast pulling out painfully slow  again and again.

“I— mmmm” she sighs gripping the sheets and on all fours. Close he flips her over so there in missionary so they can enjoy each other’s love faces. They come together resting their heads in the crook of the others necks as Erik lets his weight fall on her while catching his breath.

“Good morning” he says after a few minutes.

“No” Elle whines wrapping her legs around him to keep him in beg.

“And what you think that’s gonna do?” He asks showing off his strength and getting up with her in his arms.

“E” she giggles holding on tight. “I thought we agreed you would let me sleep in since I have a long drive home?”

“If you’re complaining I didn’t put it on you right” he comments sitting her on the counter and heading into the sectioned off toilet in the bathroom.

“I’m not complaining”

“You just wanted to hold out on me so I’d have to come to the benefit?” He speaks knowingly and Elle smiles guiltily adjusting her night dress and getting down.

“Maybe” she comments as they switch places.

“You’d do that to me?” He laughs playfully washing his hands.

“Clearly I couldn’t” Elle admits finishing up and washing her hands too.

It had been a month since their first time and Erik found himself spending the night with her at last four nights a week. Still when he wasn’t, for work or whatever reason, he wanted to be.

“Gonna head to the gym, I’ll bring breakfast back okay. Get some sleep” Erik comments getting an eye roll in response. “I’d work you out some more but like you said you have a long drive” he comments slapping her ass as she heads back to the bedroom.

“How do you even have all this energy?” She yawns.

“I don’t need a lot of sleep, call me if you need anything alright?” He asks turning to ding her eyes are already closed as she sleeps snuggled into his king sized bed.

He’d always known what kind of girl Elle was and did his best to stay away knowing he wasn’t someone that was up to her standard. He’d told Aaron those very words when they went to pick some things up from Claire, the woman who had fostered him. That was before his first tour overseas, then just like that Elle was Aarons girlfriend. He’d heard all about it from his aunt and Aarons mother on the phone. She’d do anything for her shit of an offspring and apparently tracking his girlfriend after a breakup was within reason. Especially since, as his aunt put it Elle had walked away with Erik. He could see the scandal now, it was just another reason for everyone to turn on him.

“E?” Elles voice takes him out of his thoughts. This wasn’t how she’d come to know him - he was almost always present.

“You alright, you have to go?” She asks her eyes shining and sincere.

“Nah, I’ll be back in a minute kitten” he winks.

“Somethings on your mind that you have to handle, you’ve been in and out since you got that call” she speaks and he smiles at her intuitiveness. “Go handle it it’s fine” Elle swallows tip-toeing for a quick peck and Erik deepens it. It wasn’t a call, work never stressed him out it was the opposite.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” he promises meaning it and he leaves.

He’d tried shaking his feelings for her but it felt like trying to stop a train going a full steam ahead. He’d never been a relationship kind of guy, more the stop by to knock your socks off kind. Erik never had the time or the energy to put his trust in people other than hisself because, in his experience it almost never ended well. Knocking at the door it takes ten minuted and a text before its answered. Wade looks up at him with a surprised expression before wheeling back to let Erik in.

“You do a job without me, Kill?” He asks wheeling into the elevator taking him to his man-cave.

“Nah”

“How are you and the girls”

“They’re good man, Shayla was asking when you’re gonna come by the other day. You haven’t been here eating my wife’s cooking and teaching my daughters shit they don’t need to know in a few weeks” His best friend comments.

Erik smiles in reflection, “Those lil niggas bad as hell”

“Don’t call them that, they’re little girls” Wade reminds wheeling around to his couch and getting in comfortably.

“Hows therapy”

“Kill, you’re scaring me, this could be a call. You come here at three in the morning for this?”

“It’s fucked up man but ain’t shit I can do about it” Erik swallows looking into his hands and taking a deep sigh. “Remember Elle?”

“I still don’t know how Aaron pulled her” Wade comments before panic crosses his expression. “What happened?” He sits forward.

“They broke up and uhh, we started…” Erik thinks of words more respectful than fucking. “We got together, I had no plans — I mean I flirt with her because she’s fine but, man Wade.” Erik sighs. “I don’t want to be here right now with you, I’d rather be with her. I can’t sleep if I’m not with her, not properly and I’ve never cared about a woman like I care for her.” Erik explains.

Wade swallows feeling for Erik knowing much of his past. They’d been friends since MIT and went to war together. Yin and Yang, put them into any situation and they’d get it done. Wade was an intelligence wizard, Erik a tactical genius.

“When you care about people you hold them down. Lets not forget you crossed enemy lines during an ambush when I stepped on a mine and lost the first leg. You’re fearless E. For you to get involved at all — Aaron ain’t shit but you wouldn’t cross that line with her if you didn’t care. Stop thinking — you’re not good at that; just act.” Wade advises and Erik swallows until a controller is tossed at him.

“Come on” Wade says and they move forward playing.

….

Elle smiles standing as she mingles around the annual fundraiser. The cause were underprivileged kids. Let adults dress up all fancy to feel important and they dig into their pockets and are quite generous.

Each forced smile seemed to happen easier and easier until it wasn’t such a task to pretend that she was happy to be at the benefit. Erik hadn’t called in hours or showed up to see her off on her travel out of town.

Maybe it was too much, maybe it was too fast? Still Erik has no problem expressing himself another time.

“Elle, you look gorgeous - I’ll get Larry to dig deep for the kids” Agnes one of her clients says kissing her cheek and whispering the last part.

“Thanks Ag” Elle smiles. “You chose the right venue” Elle adds looking around at the space - making the older woman beam with pride.

“No worries where’s your arm candy? You know a nice accessory can go far” she adds being terrible. Larry nor her three previous three husbands stood a chance against her charm.

“I’m here by myself” Elle admits.

“Hmm” Agnes ponders not even feigning sadness.  “A breakup?”

“You can say that”

“Don’t tell me he cheated” she whispers in a sarcastic tone pretending to be surprised. She’d watched Aaron flirt at their first benefit and told Elle to dumb him from then.

“My neighbour is a young eligible bachelor and you’re just his type!” She sings with excitement.

“Agnes let’s focus on the kids” you mutter and her brows bunch you turn to see Aaron in a suit and tie. In all the years you were together it was a battle to get him to these fundraisers, to show his face and support the cause. Now he’s here. Just like that.

“I thought you said…” Agnes trails putting on a fake smile as he gets closer.

“We aren’t together I don’t know why he’s here!” Elle specifies turning to Agnes and backing Aaron.

“Babe, Agnes” Aaron greets with enough gall to walk up to both women. Worst of all acting like they weren’t broken up. Elle steps back pushing him away to create distance.

“What are you doing here?” She whispers offended.

“Are you gonna turn away money?” He asks still playing games and Elle shakes her head in disgust.

“Stop it, I’m here like you want me to be. Alright?” He whispers sternly before smiling.

“I’m not your babe” Elle tells him loud enough that everyone within two feet can hear. His eyes widen in alarm before it becomes a warning to stop and be more discrete. Aaron isn’t one for glass houses shattering and anything aside from the mirage of a perfect relationship.

“Hey” a familiar voice says and the minute Agnes’ eyes widen Elle smiles knowing just who it belongs to as his hand holds her hip planting a quick kiss on her cheek. She feels all fuzzy inside just like that, getting goosebumps. Erik had maintained schmoozing and throwing money around with corporate fucks was not his thing and that he had no intention of participating.

“You came” Elles beams as she admires Erik and his ensemble for the night looking delectable. Black suit, white pinstripes, tailored to perfection, white fitted shirt. Agnes smiles at the unmistakable chemistry between the two as they eye each other like they’re the only two people in the room.

“For the kids right, and it’s important to you” Erik says aloud eyes look at Elles to examine if she’s okay in Aaron’s presence. His hand gives her hip a quick squeeze as his bow raises ever so slightly.

Whats he doing here?

His expression asks.

“I’m Agnes, I’ve been working with Elle for some time now, are you new?” Agnes introduces eyeing Erik in approval without any consideration for Aaron.

“No he’s my cousin Agnes” Aaron interjects making the older woman light up like a Christmas tree in excitement at the messiness of it all.

“My pretty baby’s a genius” she smiles hugging Elle. “Why don’t you leave before you embarrass yourself young man” Agnes says making Elle turn bright red as she addresses Aaron.

This won’t end well.

“Elle are you out of your fucking mind?” Aaron grits taking her hand and walking out of the venue way too fast. She barely stays on her feet being pulled along behind him silently to avoid from a further scene. “You better not be fucking him!” Aaron barks with a finger in her face once they’re outside. “We’re leaving now!” He grabs her more violently this time.

His grip is iron and sure to bruise but it only lasts a second before he is shoved back. Aaron stumbles before catching his balance before getting in fighting stance only to hit the floor moments later.

———

“Erik” Elle moans trying to be obedient and hold still during her punishment.

“You didn’t call me when you should have the second he showed up” Erik says onto her neck making goosebumps rise.

Erik had swooped in like her night in shining armour. It was a two hit situation. Erik hit Aaron, Aaron hit the floor.

“Since you like to be uncomfortable, here you go” he swallows.

“Erik” she wines some more feeling his full length inside her. Stretching her out while they sit stationary and he plays his stupid sniper games while inside her.

“What you should have been saying into your phone, look at my hand” he stated showing Elle his bruised knuckles.

“Baby please, I was shocked, I didn’t know what to do” Elle whispers and he seems to only get harder. He swallows trying to keep from thrusting himself. “Baby, Erik .... Daddy... Sir” she sputters with her eyes closed. His fingers massaging her clit adding to the torment of having him inside her.  His free hand wraps around her neck.

“Did I say you could talk?” He asks sliding out to give the both of them some relief. When he makes no effort to start Elle turns to face him. His eyes are clouded with too much to read through and she leans in stopping halfway to be granted permission. His lips find her, controlling the pace of the kiss, rough, passionate and dominating. When he pulls away she’s left breathless feeling a wave of emotions stronger than she’d felt.

He’d been there, with few words, more consistent than anyone ever had been. Not for any recognition either. Not to tell people about all the things he did for her, not to throw it in her face, just to be there. Incredible sex too. Just the way she’d always wanted. Punishments or not it always felt good.

Her arms wrap around his neck as she leans forward hugging him. Eriks taken back by the gesture. It takes a few moments for it to register before he holds her in place rubbing her back over the material of her nightdress. Everything changes. He kisses her cheek.

“I got you” he promises. “Always, Elle” he pulls away needing eye contact. She nods tears in her eyes.

“Thank you Erik” she whispers and he can feel the emotion between them as he wipes her tears away pulling his shorts back up and heading with her to his bedroom. “You were distant and I didn’t know what was happening between us” she admits and he looks devastated.

Elle knows it’s going to be different when she looks in his eyes. He leaves a trail from her shoulder, up her neck and to her lips before taking her dress off. It’s not long before the kissing ends up on the bed. Sensual, slow, seductive. His hands caress all the right spots as he gets his pleasure from her letting go and blossoming for him. He was going to show her how she felt again and again, like he had today, like he had continuously shown up for her.

Her bedroom eyes are the sexiest thing to him. Her hands hold him rubbing his sides as he enters lowering to close the distance between them. It’s far from fucking. Every stroke feels better than the previous and pressure builds in no time at all overcoming the both of them.

“Fuck” Erik grits with every stroke at the perfect pace. He stops hoping to last longer and they switch positions he sits against the headboard. Elle straddles him grinding at the perfect tempo. He reaches for the clip holding her hair up and lets it down falling just a little past her shoulders. His woman is beautiful, he’d never give her cause or reason to look for anything he could give outside of their relationship.

There’s no need for words.

“It’s perfect” she shudders continuing until her body seizes up. Erik switches positions to missionary. He was making love to her, slowly, passionately, attentively. It was something he never did. He couldn’t fake it.

“You’re perfect” he grits closing his eyes as she tightens around his manhood.

“Erik... Baby” her voice rises a few octaves. His lips find hers for a moment before she feels him filling her up. The rush is everything as his fingers interlock with hers. Their breaths sync as he lay on top of her before rolling onto their sides still connected.

“I love you Elle” Erik says his insecurity vanished the second she smiles after closing her eyes in what is relief and gratitude.

“I love you too Erik” she affirms.

“Must be some after sex talk” Erik jokes finally pulling out and getting something to clean her off with.

“You called me Elle” she notes finished with the bathroom and cleaned up as he changes the sheets.

“You liked that?” He asks and she shrugs with a smile catching her breath again as he laughs.

“That was...” Elle sighs out of relief. “I needed that thanks” she admits.

“I know” he nods. “That I’m here princess, whenever you need me, however you need me to be. Don’t forget it alright kitten?”

“I won’t” she smiles.

Fin.

_____

Thanks for reading 😊😊😊 Let me know if you all are enjoyed this short, dont forget to comment, like and reblog. 😘😘😘

______

Tags:

@@determinednot2fall @twistedcharismaaa​ @l-auteuse​ @chaneajoyyy​ @thickemadame​ @longpause-awkwardsmile​ @klaylakayblack​ @amelatonin​ @just-juicee​ @xo-goldengirl​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @itsjustyazz​ @soufcakmistress​

@nijajoha  @iamrheaspeaks @4tprincess  @justgetitoverwith0​ @queenflaws @abeautifulmindexposed @coveredingodiv @nahimjustfeelingit-writes​@champagnesugamama​ @heavensangelxo​ @bugngiz​ @cherrystainedlipsbaby​ @tip222u​ @keiva1000​  @doublesidedscoobysnacks​ @shalynn-m​ @bakarilennox​ @tyees​

[dreamingofmilk]

Do You Remember?

Synopsis: You and Gerald reminisce about conceiving your first child 

Word count - 2,341

Warnings: smut, cursing, aggressive sex

Enjoy you guys!!

You jerked up out of bed and waddled to the bathroom as quickly as you could. Damn morning sickness always came at the worst times. The sour taste at the back of your throat only made you move that much faster.

Geralt woke up as soon as you got up and followed you. He rushed to grab your hair and rub your back while you retched into the toilet.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly while he pulled your hair into a ponytail.

"Are you alright?" You mocked. "Splendid, just casually puking my guts out for the fifth time today. It's a wonder there's anything left in my stomach."

"Hmm." Geralt didn't even bother hiding his smile. You were pregnant with his child and he couldn't be happier. Finally he can right the wrongs of his parents and raise a child with the woman he loved. He couldn't shake the thought of a little girl with white hair and your eyes who'd call him Papa and play with Roach.

You could feel how smug he was, and it just pissed you off more. Three months you'd been carrying this child and it's already taken a toll on you. You were constantly sick and you were showing far more than a typical woman would at this stage. Fuck Geralt and his big ass baby genes. You had no idea how you were going to make it through 6 more months of this. The baby might kick and rupture an organ. Damn Witcher.

You got back on your feet and went to rinse your mouth. You could feel Geralt rubbing your stomach the entire time. He was pretty much always touching your stomach nowadays. Equal parts love and fascination on his face as he studied all the ways your belly has changed to make room for his baby. It was a side of him you hadn't seen until recently. Geralt always seemed aloof, unbothered by everything and everyone. 

After you cleaned yourself up, he helped you back to the bed and spooned you. This was one of the only positions you could handle without getting sick. 

You shuffled around to find a comfortable spot and once you found it you groaned with relief. Finally you could get some sleep. Geralt couldn't hold back a small chuckle at your dramatics. 

"You sound very comfortable." You could feel the vibration of his chest against your back, the small breeze of his breath on the back of your neck. It was honestly one of the most comforting things you've ever known. 

You turned just enough for him to see you raise your middle finger, but your eyes remained closed. "Fuck you, Witcher."

That only made him laugh harder. "Hmm. That's what got us here in the first place." Cocky bastard is really enjoying this. "Do you remember the day we made this child?" He asked with his face buried in your hair. 

Of course, you remembered. Consequences aside, it was some of the best damn sex you've ever had in your life, by a longshot. You clenched your thighs together to try to ease the heat you felt rush to your core. 

"Fuck, you do remember. I can smell you" Geralt started running his huge hands down your body starting at your chest, pausing at your belly, then down to where you wanted him the most. "You were so damn hot for me that day. Couldn't even wait to get home."

He was right. You thought back to that day and remembered that you had been horny pretty much the whole day. Geralt had hunted a particularly nasty monster. He definitely got his ass kicked. That thing really threw him around, but he eventually got the upper hand and cut its heart right out of its chest. Then he grabbed it and crushed it with his bare hands to make sure it couldn't revive itself. Maybe you were a little messed up but something about watching him squeeze the organ until it gave out was sexy as fuck. Blood spattered over his face and all the way up to his arm. He looked like a savage, and you could’ve really used some savage dick at that moment. 

You and Geralt had been messing around casually a bit at the time, actually, it was pretty much a daily thing at that point. There was never a time he wasn’t inside of you when you two were alone, and... sometimes not alone. You both were addicted to the crazy, rough, animalistic fucking that you could only get from each other. It honestly was a surprise he ever had time to hunt any monsters. The two of you were insatiable.

After watching his ruthless display of strength you were ready to fuck. He could worry about the rest of the mission later, he had more important things to take care of right now. He caught your eye and smirked once he realized your current state. 

"You really are fucked up Y/N. What woman gets turned on by death and gore?" His chuckle shot straight through you.

You shrugged and walked close enough to run your hands down his chest, making sure to touch all of your favorite parts. "I'm no average woman, Geralt." 

He scoffed, "You're a crazy one though."

You smiled brightly. You couldn't even argue that. You leaned even closer and whispered in his ear, after licking a bit of his blood off his cheek. "A crazy bitch with crazy good pussy."

He groaned, "Fucking right."

Nothing else needed to be said. In seconds your clothes were ripped and you were on your hands and knees. Your back formed that perfect arch and his huge dick was pounding into you. You two didn't need much foreplay, watching him kill the beast with the great display of strength was more than enough. He drove you crazy, hell his dick drove you crazy. It was like he was actually trying to destroy your pussy. And although his strokes were rough, you sucked it up and took it like a champ. 

"Fuck, you feel so good. That’s it Y/N. Take it." He grunted right in your ear. "Always so fucking tight!"

He grabbed the back of your neck and pushed it to the ground, his body towering over yours. You could feel the mud on your cheeks but you didn't give a damn. Geralt leaned over your body and clamped his teeth into your throat and bit just hard enough to break skin. You scream and clenched around him. 

"Shit! Geralt! Fuck, I can’t-"

His teeth released your neck, but he just replaced it with his hands, pushing your face further into the mud. "Shut up and take it! You always take me so fucking well." His thrust was harsh and pleasurable. 

You couldn't do anything but clench around him. Your body became so weak as your orgasm approached. You tried to pull his hand from the back of your neck but his grip only tightened. You hiss in response, your body humming in pleasure. After a moment, he grew tired of your hands trying to move his, so he grabbed both of your wrists in his hands and yanked them backward. 

“Stop fucking moving.” He groaned out. 

The new position allowed him to use your hands like handlebars and his thrust only felt as if they were hitting deeper and deeper! It was honestly too much, even a bad bitch has their limits. You tried to inch forward a bit to relieve the pressure on your g spot, but Geralt had other ideas. He let go of your hands and wrapped an arm around your waist, his fingers circling your clit. The pleasure became too much. His thrust was much rougher, the extra amount of force pushed you to the ground again. Geralt’s fingers remained on your clit, his other hand regained its position on the back of your neck holding you down. His thumb made its way between your lips for you to suck. 

Geralt smiled at you in the new position. 

“Seems like the bad bitch can’t handle it. Are those tears I see.” Geralt mocked you, the wetness between your legs causing loud lewd sounds in the air. You wiggles your hips in an attempt to remove some of the pressure off your clit. “I told you to stop fucking moving.

He grunted, "Seems like you can't follow basic fucking instructions so I've got something for you." He pulled you up by your hair so you were kneeling and started pounding into you again. He wrapped both of his arms around your torso and bounced you up and down like a rag doll. It felt like he grew even bigger in this position and you couldn't handle it. 

You started screaming. Loud. Obscene curse words mixed with gibberish Poured from your lips. To bystanders, it might have sounded like you were being attacked. But you knew the truth. Your pussy clamped down so hard he almost had trouble pulling his dick out. His strokes faltering from your wet hot tightness. 

You squirted. Continuously. All over the place. Your body shaking wildly, and this crazy deranged fucking beast didnt miss a beat. He kept the same pace and hummed. Fucking hummed. You couldn't stop cumming and your stomach was starting to cramp from the onslaught but you couldn't escape his hold. Your body was jerking and twisting, trying to get away from the man who was making you crazy. Stars exploded across your vision. You couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything but the blood rushing through your head. All you could do was cum and cum and cum. 

After what felt like a lifetime of constant orgasms his thrusts became sloppy, and you could feel his dick twitching inside you. Usually he cums on your chest or your face since he loved to see you painted in his cum. His words, not yours. You prepared yourself for him to pull out and douse you.

"Fuck, gonna cum. Gonna cum so fucking hard Y/N."

You wrestled one of your arms free and started to fondle his balls. "Give it to me. Cum all over me."

He bit into your shoulder and moaned. "No, gonna cum in you. Gonna flood your shit.” He smiled blissfully. “I'm gonna cum so fucking hard in you you'll be leaking for days."

You clenched even harder on him. Your pussy was down with that. But there was one thing he was forgetting. "Geralt, wait.” You tried to catch your breath. “Mmphm. I'll be pregnant if you come inside me."

He shifted positions again. He laid you on your back and spread your legs as wide as they would go. He started making deep lunges in your pussy and you could feel him bottoming out and hitting the back of your pussy. 

A wicked smile fell across his face as he looked up at you. You could see the predatory glint in his eyes. "Exactly. I'm gonna knock you up. You're gonna have our baby. You want that right? You want to have my baby?"

Where the hell did this come from? You couldn't contain the shock on your face. "I didn't know you wanted a baby. You don't exactly like children."

He was shaking his head before you finished. "We've been doing this for years Y/N.  Did you really think I'd waste that kind of time with someone I didn't see a future with? You are important to me. I want to have a family with you. I want you to stay by my side."

Geralt's thrust had slowed to a conversational pace. And though it still stirred something in you, you couldn’t help but want to finish the conversation. 

You would be lying if you said you weren't in love with him. You just figured he wasn't interested in that kind of relationship so you took what you could get. Your heart fluttered at the chance of a real relationship with Geralt. If he was ready to have a child, then so were you. You two would be the best parents in the world. You both grew up with terrible parents so you would make sure the child would get all the love and attention you two never did. 

You grabbed his face gently and looked into his eyes. "Yes, I want to have your baby. I love you, Geralt."

He thrust one, two, three more times and exploded. You couldn't help but come again at the feeling of him filling you up.

He nuzzled your neck, "I love you too Y/N."

He pumped into you until he was spent, then rolled over and pulled you onto his chest. You both laid there in silence while your breathing slowed. 

You broke the silence first. "Well that was something."

He chuckled, "Definitely something. I meant what I said, Y/N. I want a baby with you. If I didn't knock you up just then, then I'm gonna keep going until I do."

You laughed aloud at the memory. "First time was the charm I guess."

Geralt nuzzled even closer to you, hands absently rubbing your belly. "I still had to give insurance." The humor was very apparent in his voice.

You shook your head, a goofy smile on your face, "Of course you did."

He hummed, the vibration calmed you instantly. "I love you Y/N. You and our baby."

You smiled and rested your hands on top of his. Over the child you were growing. The child that would be a perfect mix of you and him. The child you loved and would protect with your life already.

Both of you started dozing off, relaxed now that your morning sickness seems to have passed for a while. But you made sure to answer him before sleep claimed you completely.

"I love you too. You and your big headed baby."

[baconpal]

With ARMS being free for the next couple days still I thought I'd talk about it here cus I think it's a pretty neat game. I've included a messy painting for your scrolling pleasure, but from here on out it's all words so strap in for some game design talk.

So ARMS is a fucking video game, it's hard to call it a fighting game just cus it's hard to call anything a fighting game anymore, but it's definitely about fighting and it's definitely a video game so take that as you will. People have a lot of trouble getting to grips with the game, especially the controls, but a lot of that is caused by how much more you can do than you'd initially think, and I really do suggest you try the free trial and mess around with whatever control scheme feels right to you. It was a pretty dark time the first couple months when it wasn't easy to change controls and that definitely hurt arms as a whole i feel which sucks.

It's not the most hardcore complicated video game ever but it makes very good use of the aspects of the game that are simple and loose in order to make a very free-form fighting game, and overall it does a lot of stuff that I personally consider very good design as someone with a big love of multipurpose mechanics and unique mechanics that aren't just gimmicks.

UNIVERSAL ARMS ARE COOL The one part of the game that is universal to all characters is that you got two arms that you throw around and control as they move. How those arms move and how you move around the stage are entirely dependent on the fists and character you pick, leading to very expressive playstyles in spite of every character having the same goal of hitting the other guy with some long-ass slappers.

The different types of arms all fill different purposes based on their shape and trajectory. Some arms are meant for straight forward boxing and clashing fists together, some are slow, heavy arms meant for countering weak punches or putting up defensive walls, some arms curve around the arena to avoid colliding with other arms at all, some have multiple fists to specific defensive options like dodging to the sides, jumping, or sitting in shield, and there's a variety of unique arms for all kinds of weird playstyles, including projectile arms (even though your arms are alright projectiles, they're even more projectile-y) as well as the variety of elemental arms; Elements allow for strengthening your playstyle by increasing factors like arm size, hitstun, arm disabling, movement disabling, knockdowns, knockback, vision impairment and other forms of disruption. 

Overall, each arm carries its own benefits and risks, and switching arm layouts between rounds or matches is very similar to counter picking in a standard fighting game, meaning choosing arms is like choosing a character in and of itself. As a result, the game feels a lot more balanced than a lot of fighting games I've gotten into before, as any character has access to any arm, so no character has directly more damage than other characters, and powerful arms can be adjusted for all characters at once. Picking arms is just one half of ARMS' character building, the actual fighter you use also greatly changes the options you have in game, and for the most part follow a type of design philosophy that divides every action into parts, and puts lots of focus into making sure every little part of a games systems are put to use.

THE FIGHTERS AND DIVIDED MECHANIC DESIGN While the arms you chose determine the way your punches will travel and behave, everything relating to movement is determined by your character, and while most characters have the same general movement, every character has something different to offer and augments a very small part of that overall movement to change what kinds of actions each character prefers. To explain that I'll need to give a brief overview of all the movement options in the game, and split them up into parts to make discussing them easier.

Punching As explained earlier, most of this depends on the arm, but having an arm out causes your movement to be reduced, even more so with two arms. You regain all movement as your arm retracts back.

Grabbing By punching with both arms at once, a green band will connect them, and if that band touches the enemy, you will chuck em across the stage and do a good amount of damage. If the enemy punches the green band it splits and the grab is cancelled, but grabs will land even on blocking opponents, so it forms a standard power triangle of punch > grab > guard > punch, etc.

Dashing Pressing the dash button and a direction will let you do a short dash that's faster than walking around, and holding it allows you to do a longer dash that causes your arms to hang to the side and having more overall lag time. Completing a dash without getting hit or having your hands hit will give your arms charge for a short amount of time, increasing their damage or letting them use their elemental properties. If none of your arms are out, continuing to hold dash will cause a character to stand in place and charge up their arms, greatly extending the length of a charge without changing the effects.

Dashing causes punches to curve much stronger in the direction you're moving, and when an arm is out, you can only do the short dash, and when in the air with both arms in, you can do the long dash in the air, but a bit slower.

Jumping Pretty standard jumping, you commit to a jump arch for the most part, but can slow your decent by punching or change your direction with a dash. Landing from a jump is just like finishing a long dash, you gain some charge and can hold the button to charge longer. Jumps have a very notable amount of end lag where you are just fuckin standing there, with only your hands to defend yourself, so while gaining a height advantage is very useful, jumping is overall a risky maneuver.

Jumps can be short or high depending on the length pressed, though jumping with an arm out makes all jumps short. You can also jump out of a dash to jump further.

Guarding When you guard, you block all punches, even weird ones from the side and shit, but can't move. You can hold guard for as long as you want, and your arms will charge after guarding for a second, and you can cancel blocking into literally anything, as well as dash forwards/backwards out of blockstun. While blocking is useful, grabs go through it, and all damage that hits your guard will build up and damage your arms, which can disable them or break through your guard, you also cannot guard if you have a punch out or have a disabled arm.

Also just a side thing that I can't think where else to mention, while I really like how this game is fairly simple, for some reason there's just not a good place to put block on any control scheme. The default for motion control is very slow and not very accurate, and on controller the default is pushing in the stick, which is super awkward. You can remap the controls to anything that's comfortable, and my control scheme is nothing like the default, but the guard button is still never in quite a convenient enough spot, so sometimes it becomes hard to implement. Pretty much my biggest gripe with the game but it's hard to complain about it cus I can't come up with a better solution myself.

Rush A universal counter/super that all characters share. When you have full meter, pressing rush will deflect any fists about to hit you, and cause your punches to be very very fast for the next 3 seconds. Exactly how each arm behaves during rush is arm specific, but the general use of rush is for very big punishes, generally doing around the damage of 2 or 3 clean hits. It's still very possible to block or dodge a rush or to beat it out by sneaking a hit in or using your own rush.

With the basics explained, here's a general overview of how each character splits the movement into fine pieces and makes use of them.

SPRING MAN The funny spring guy is the first character on the list, and as such sets the standard for everyone else. Even with that in mind he's got a pretty defined style. Similar to ryu from streets, spring man lends himself to a grounded defensive style of fighting. Since all his movement is average and jumping is dangerous, he generally wants to stay on the ground and find chances to punish others.

He has two main differences from other characters, the first is pretty beginner friendly and easy to explain: when below 25% health, spring mans punches are always charged. This comeback mechanic is very helpful to beginners but can come with some disadvantages when using different arms, as many arms are slower or less safe to use when charged. His other mechanic is much more advanced than you'd expect of a main character, and that's his deflect. Whenever spring man is charging his punches (holding a jump or dash) and releases the charge before finishing, he will deflect any punches about to hit him just like a rush. Since new players are hardly ever gonna charge their punches, but may panic and dodge out of a charge before getting hit, it has its place for beginners but allows confident players to charge punches whenever they want and to find better punishes by deflecting the opponents attacks.

I really enjoy taking something as insignificant as releasing charge and making it into a conscious action. These are the types of design choices this game is full of that make me happy.

RIBBON GIRL Funny little air woman likes jumping around, and has 4 jumps of decreasing height, allowing her to stay in the air for a very very long time. Having more jumps also allows her to stay in the air long enough to air dash more than once, giving even more air control. As a kind of mixup/quality of life choice, holding an air dash will make her quickly drop to the ground, making her landings unpredictable, which helps when your main strength is constantly jumping, playing the exact opposite type of game as spring man.

NINJARA Funny ninja guy's air dash is a teleport, making his air movement a bit harder to read. His main mechanic is that he has no form of blockstun; when a fist hits his shield, he will teleport in the direction the player is holding and instantly be able to act, giving him the opportunity to punish attacks on block more easily than other characters. I don't play him enough to act like I know what this means for him, and the community memes him up to do nothing but air dash into grab but I'd assume he's a mobile bait and punish type.

MASTER MUMMY The big funny mummy is this games grappler sort of. He has higher throw damage than every other character, and his wide shoulders means his grabs innately have a wider hitbox, which makes catching rolls and dashes easier, but also makes a big target for punching. His jumps are narrow and his dashes are slow, but he has super armor when jumping, dashing, charging, or punching. I haven't brought up health since every character has the same health, but super armor also cuts damage taken in half to avoid the horrible pain of super armoring through a hit with multiple hits and ending up taking way more damage. This makes master mummy one of the beefiest guys in the game, and combine that with his other ability to gain health while guarding, master mummy generally wants to play a really dangerous punish game where he sits in shield to make you hit him, and punishes you by punching through your grabs or armoring through your punches. He also can corner people more easily since his arms are far to the sides, allowing him to hit people trying to run away from him more easily.

MIN MIN Funny noodle lady deflects attacks with her air dash much like spring man's charge release, her grounded back dash also does this, letting her stay pretty safe while retreating specifically. Her main mechanic is that completing a charge or landing a grab will cause her left arm to remain charged until she is knocked down. The possibilities are pretty wide with what an always charged arm can give you, and mainly depends on what arms you use, but overall it gives min min a strong advantage state while keeping a generally safe disadvantage. She's also pretty cute and I wish she'd kick my head off maybe.

MECHANICA Funny girl in a funnier robot will keep any momentum she has while charging, allowing her to slide across the stage with charged arms, or to hover in the air with charged arms. She also has super armor during these charging slides, giving her very hard to punish air and ground movement, but her large size and laggy movements do leave some openings.

TWINTELLE Funny model girl with twintail fists and a scientifically perfect ass (i don't make the rules her model literally has 2 spheres for a butt idk how much simpler you can get) slows down nearby arms while she holds dash, and also causes herself to float in place if she holds an airdash. This makes her charging safer overall, and generally lets her react to things easier and lets her punish easier, or hold the enemies arms hostage while she throws a punch around them. Also a character I don't play much but she seems to mostly be about limiting the opponent and slapping em. Also horny.

BYTE & BARQ Funny robocop and funny robodog fight together using the dogs predictable AI. It doesn't seem very predictable to the other player but its generally pretty simple. The dog punches a second after you do, the dog will roll under you if you hold jump, and he'll generally try to stay diagonally in front of you. When Byte jumps on the dog it will deflect punches like spring man, and he can high jump by holding jump when bouncing, which also immediately charges his arms. With this, the duo can stay airborne and rain down charged attacks at the cost of low mobility. Also, if the dog gets hit byte is by himself for a while and has absolutely no special traits to speak of by himself, this leads to a character with very strong advantage and abysmal disadvantage.

KID COBRA Funny snake has really wide jumps and very slow dashes, but when his fists are charged he instead has even wider jumps and very fast dashes that slide him around, allowing him to dodge punches very easily. In general his gameplan seems to be getting off a jump to get some charge then darting around like a crackhead. He also has much bigger arms than his skinny body would suggest, and a lot of people hated that about him when the game first came out but I don't hear much about it now so idk if it really makes that much of a difference for good players. Anyway another character with drastically unique movement with strong advantage and bad disadvantage.

HELIX Funny goo guy makes squash and stretch into gameplay mechanics. When he jumps, he actually stretches his body up and doesn't leave the ground until you release jump, and will stand in place, but has complete control of his torso, allowing him to juke punches while throwing down charged punches from up high. His lack of ground movement means you can surround him easily in this state, so he can't hold it forever. When helix lands from a jump or performs a dash he'll squash into a little puddle which ducks under punches, though any punches the opponent throws while helix is already in the puddle will aim down at him, meaning he needs to use it sparringly, but he can move all around the floor with charged punches in this form. Essentially he moves super slowly and is easy to corner, but his movement is erratic and slippery and he has lots of ways to get OUT of the corner once you put him in it, and if he has any distance on you he'll give you hell.

LOLA POP Funny clown and part time Dobson fan inflates while guarding and can walk forwards or backwards very fast while blocking, giving them a safe approach or retreat option. Much like ribbon girl, she can hold her air dash to quickly drop to the ground, except she inflates while falling, giving her a quick shield and making her bounce into the air again, letting her bounce over and over to regain charge on her punches. She's very elusive and hard to pin down, but she's a lot bigger and easier to punch then you'd think because of how much she spreads herself out in her animations.

MISANGO Funny tribal man has the tiki mask from crash bandicoot follow him around and change colors every few seconds. Guarding causes the mask to form a pillar in front of Misango that can get in the way of punches and grabs but also blocks the whole fucking screen get out of the way fuck. Completing a charge will put on the mask giving him some benefits until he gets knocked down. Red mask gives him super armor, blue gives him better jumps and dashes, and yellow builds more rush meter and also gives his rush even more deflecting ability. Not a guy I use much or understand the appeal of beyond being versatile I guess but there are some good as misango players so shows what I know.

BOSS CHARACTERS The next 3 characters are characters who were first in the game as bosses, but became playable characters, and is another thing I absolutely love about this game. Its the first game in a long time that makes the bosses be bosses through their character and not through being objectively broken assholes who roadblock you from playing the game. Their personalities and playstyle exude the powerful presence they have and helps round out the really good cast.

SPRINGTRON A funny robot copy of springman who has mostly the same size, slightly slower speed, and the same deflect on charge ability, but no comeback mechanic. What makes this character unique from the springer is that following through and completing his charge will instead put out a gigantic deflect that disables any punches it deflects, and will charge his arms for 9 seconds, the longest charge length of any character. The big deflect can be countered by just waiting for it to come out and attacking springtron while he finishes the move, but it makes him a very scary version of springtron who can punish you much harder at the cost of some versatility.

DR COYLE The funny mastermind scientist villain makes herself seem bosslike by having a drastically different control scheme from the rest. She floats around, so floating is considered her grounded state, meaning she always has access to short and long dashes, but can't charge by jumping. Holding jump causes her to elivate, forcing the opponent to punch up at Coyle and giving her constant heigh advantage while still being able to shoot around with dashes. Her charge is much like mechanicas but without super armor, and helps to keep her moving around. In addition, when coyle fully chages, one of her arms will duplicate, allowing her to throw out the same punch twice, giving powerful pressure to her neutral. The opponent can see which arm is duplicated before she has time to throw the punch, and her charge time is super short so its really easy to know what she's gonna do, but it still creates a threat simply by existing. Overall a very cool villain.

MAX BRASS Funny fucking CHAD. The guy from the painting at the start and my mans of choice, so I think quite highly of him obviously. The primary antagonist of the game and champion of the sport, Brass is genuinely just a tough guy who wants to have fun, completely betraying the imposing image he gives off and the general idea of "final boss = bad guy". He is a slower, wider character than most, and shares the deflect mechanic with spring man when releasing a charge, but when he fully charges, he will expand all of his muscles to become even wider, move faster, and have super armor and charged punches for 5 seconds. Like spring man, at the last 25% health, Brass will always be charged, which include being buffed up, which has its pluses and minuses.

This creates a character with the defensive strength of spring man, and the cornering ability of master mummy, giving him an overpowering image of beating down the opposition with his strong advantage state, combined with the an imposing "final form" when he's down to the wire. Like most of the cast, he has a tough time in disadvantage as a result, and his wide shoulders cause him problems with characters who can get close to him quickly or who move around too much.

While separate from his actual character, the stage you fight him on takes place at sunset, and the sun shines against his back, giving him a really strong silloute which is even more imposing when he buffs up or is own low health. Really has been a while since i've been so impressed by the presentation of a boss fight, especially for a boss who is actually really fair.

HEDLOK So this isn't an actual character, but is still part of the boss list and is yet another thing I think is super cool and well designed in this game. Hedlok is a robotic head with exaggerated facial muscles that latches onto peoples head and makes copies of their arms. This is used in the grand prix mode to make a rematch with Max Brass where brass has 6 arms instead of 2, and that giant head matches very well with Brass's giant body. He also appears to make Dr Coyle's fight more imposing as she flies around with those 6 arms. While thats all he does in the "story" mode, Hedlok can function on the head of any member of the cast with any combination of arms, and 2 of the game modes online incorporate this by having players team up against a CPU with hedlok, or letting players fight over hedlok to beat each other to death with him. I am really impressed with the design functioning to perfectly that any character can be augmented by the simple addition of 4 more arms without sacrificing any gameplay elements. It's really great how none of the game is wasted, as even the closest thing to a super boss is still considered from a player's point of view.

While just having more arms sounds objectively better, and for the most part it is, the game is still always fair, and as such these advantages still come with downsides for the hedlok wearer, the biggest being that you don't punch the 6 arms separately, they punch in sets of 3 of the same arm one after the other when a punch comes out, and all arms curve the same way. This makes the pressure strong but predictable, and also increases the time the arms stay out after initially punching, leaving a large weak point at hedlok's flank. Hedlok does have a much more powerful rush that can hit for nearly double a normal players rush, but this is to encourage players to block and dodge to the sides around hedlok, as a stationary target is all hedlok can really chew up.

STAGES Much like the characters, the stages are all wildly unique despite not being very difficult to describe, the feature a variety of heights and sizes, as well as various obstacles like pillars and trampolines, and no stage is just a boring simple arena (except sparring ring, whose gimmick is being a literal boxing ring). Stages like Spring arena, Spring stadium, Mausoleum, Sky arena, Ramen Bowl, and Sparring ring all provide different experiences through their minor changes in shape and height. Stages like Ninja college, Buster beach, Via dolce, and [NAME REDACTED] provide long, thin arenas which put more emphasis on height and straight forward defenses. Then there are stages like DNA lab, Scrapyard, Ribbon ring, Cinema duex, and Temple grounds, whose obstacles and weird shapes provide wild and dynamic matches that change with time.

The music for the stages also slaps, there's only really a few melodies that the game uses, but the stages all have such different instrumentation and theming, as well as incorporating original segments that keeps the soundtrack unified without being literally 1 song.

CLOSING THOUGHTS AND DESIGN TIDBITS Reading back most of this I guess I didn't make it very clear what I was talking about with all the divided design stuff but basically I just like how much emphasis is put on every little piece of the games design to pull the most out of it. It's amazing to have a game with such unique characters when all the attacks are universally shared. Some other small things from this game that are good touches for me are.... -Online lobbies are super easy to use, unlike a lot of first party nintendo online shit, and allow changing characters and arms without holding up any action or needing to leave and come back. -Online lobbies also have these cute little bubbles that show you what modes other people are playing and how their doing that update in real time, so while you aren't spectating directly, you do get to enjoy some amount of involvement in others matches while waiting for your own. -The other game modes in the game make great use of the same universal mechanics to offer wildly different experiences with the hoops mode, volley ball, and target breaking contests. -The tutorials are what a lot of people need in a fighting game that they don't think they need, and that's opponents who "spam" and do just one thing while fighting, giving you the chance to learn how to play around those strategies and become better. -You unlock the universal arms for character by playing a fun minigame that rewards your ability to actually play the game. This mode also favors giving arms to the character your playing while also spreading out some of the arms to other characters to encourage you to mess around. It also won't give you an arm if it won't be of any use to you, while lots of other games would love to waste your time with duplicates that mean nothing to you. -You can set controls to anything now, including changing what the motion controls do, and you can have any amount of duplicate inputs to help make your gameplay more comfortable.

Overall, while I talk about how simple the game is, it is still a very tough game due to how much freedom you have in your combat and how deep it can get. I love the game and I still get absolutely shitcanned by the top 3 difficulties, also there's lots of people who are way good at this game, but I'd like to see more from it in general cus it kinda died a sad death due to bad initial impressions, but smash has finally done one good thing and tried to help out a game get another shot, so hopefully things go well for the game.

Thanks again to anyone dumb enough to listen sift through this shit, if you were cool enough to have read it then you can add me on switch and fight me in ARMS or something idk. Here's my code, SW 7001 1122 2464. If you add me without having read this entire post I will know and you will regret it. Regardless, have a wonderful night and stay safe gamers.

[radiorenjun]

Pairing: Lucas x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff.

Word count: 3k

Summary: Arranged Marriage AU. He had stolen your heart, but you weren't sure if you stole his with his constant cold demeanor towards you. You didn't know the reason behind his attitude before he went on a mission.

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You never understood why he was so cold and harsh to you. You understood that being the new mafia leader was tough, being underestimated by your subordinates due to lack of experience, but couldn't he at least be a little more kind to you?

You, the heir of a very powerful gang, was arranged in a marriage with the heir of the mafia. Lucas was his name. You weren't on board with the idea of marrying a stranger at first. But for the sake of your family and your subordinates, you tried to get along with him.

You started living with each other sooner than planned though. It didn't make much of a difference considering Lucas was always out for meetings and missions while you were doing house hold chores or being in your own meetings.

You, being the heir of the (l/n) company, you had your own things to deal with. Though, you cook a meal for you and your fiance from time to time, knowing he will eat it whenever you weren't around.

It hurt you whenever he was mean to you. But he meant alot to you, despite being so harsh, you found his rather softer side. You found him occasionally laughing and being a silly goof with his friends whenever he's not in meetings or whenever you aren't around and immediately going back to a serious leader when someone below his rank entered the room.

You hoped to see that side of him one day. For now, you were content with what you have, even if it means him being rather ignorant towards you. You still find the strength to keep conversations going and to make both your and his parents happy with the decision of arranging your marriage. The Mafia king needs a queen too, as they say.

And you were willing to try to win his heart, to claim it and earn that title instead of accepting the title as a gift. And you were willing to do whatever it takes, even when it costed your life to be in mortal danger.

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You heard the door open and slammed, making a loud sound that made you flinch. You turned off the stove, wiping your hands against the fabric of your leggings before walking upstairs towards his room.

"Knock knock" you spoke in a joking manner, knocking your knuckles against the wooden door lightly as you watched Lucas open a black suitcase on his bed. "Could you please not open the door too hard next time? I swear, the hinges of the door are coming loose because of that slam" you giggled.

Lucas spared you a death glare before going back to look through the papers in the suitcase. You slowly walked towards him, plopping yourself down on the mattress of his bed before grabbing one of the papers.

"Don't fucking touch that!" he barked, snatching the paper away from you before you had the chance to read it. You scowled at him, "geez, you could've just asked nicely you know" you rolled your eyes as you continued to watch him fumble with the papers.

"What are these papers anyways?" you asked after a moment of silence. "Important documents. Like you'd ever get that" he snapped, not averting his eyes away from the papers as he walked back and forth mindlessly.

"Just keep your nose out of my buisness. Don't need your petty group to join in my problems" he scowled. You let out a groan of annoyance, "surely you understand that?" he asked with a bittersweet tone, looking at you with annoyance tinted in his pupils.

"Asshole" you muttered under your breath. Grabbing the gold gun in the suitcase, examining it. Lucas let out a frustrated growl, pulling out his gun and placing it hard against your forehead. "Drop the fucking gun, y/n. Or I swear to God, I will shoot you in between your eyes!" he exclaimed, his jaw clenching tightly as he grinded his teeth.

You gave him a full expression, raising a brow. You were used to this side of him, the one that threatens to kill you with a gun whenever you angered him. But you knew deep down he would never actually do that, he doesn't have the guts to break the peace treaty between both powerful buisnesses.

"Lucas, love" you sighed, flipping the gun around your finger, teasing the trigger. "whatever you do. Whether you pull the trigger or not. There's always something that you'd lose" you smiled sweetly, dropping the gun in its place in the black suitcase.

His slit brow raised suspiciously, his pupils moving to look at the gun and back at your form which was smiling at him innocently and sweetly. "I don't give a shit about what I lose, (l/n)" he spat. Even after being engaged for six months, he still couldn't trust you? Rude.

He huffed, tossing the gun on the bed before pulling off the tie from his collar. "Mute all the complaints you have, Lucas" you smirked before he could even speak, "you're hanging back because of the things you lack"

"You better fucking shut up or I'll shoot you in the head for real" he grumbled, putting the papers inside the suitcase again before slipping it under his bed. "And I mean it, just because you have a gun doesn't mean I can't shoot you either" he said with a stone expression.

You gave him a two finger salute. "We're gonna order pizza tonight, I don't really feel like cooking today, okay?!" you exclaimed before you heard him groan, replying with an almost inaudible "fine." as he stomped out of the room angrily. You giggled at the sight. You may not have his heart, but he did have yours. And whether he likes it or not, your love for him will never end.

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You flinched when you heard the door burst open, the sound of loud footsteps echoing the room as you heard Lucas ascend the stairs and into his room. You sighed, you're really never gonna get used to that, huh?

You put a bookmark in between the pages of your book, put it on the coffee table before getting up to greet your so-called fiancé. You leaned against the doorframe as you watch him scramble all around the room, taking out a suitcase and dropping it on the bag aggressively.

His feet moving rapidly, his boots, which he had forgotten to take off, making loud sounds against the carpet rug as he walked back and forth around the room, shoving and scooping his once-neatly folded clothes into the bag carelessly.

"You're in a hurry. What's the rush?" you asked with a smile, you felt uneasy at the sight of him filling up a suitcase unexpectedly. "I gotta go. I got a mission to go to" he spoke rather abruptly, shoving his phone charger and heading to his safe.

"You're only joking right?" you laughed, your arms folded as your body leaned against the doorframe. You saw him look back at you with his typical serious look, "do I ever joke about my job, l/n?" he growled before pulling out his gun, checking to see if it's loaded.

Your mouth dropped open, "you're serious?" you asked, awestruck. "H-how long are you gonna be out? And where are you going?" you asked as you see him zip up his suitcase and brought the briefcase he slid under the bed a few weeks earlier, checking it's contents.

"Just for a while. A great vacation. A big opportunity for me to not see your ugly face and hear your whiny voice all the time." he chuckled at the thought, locking his briefcase and putting on the jacket of his tuxedo.

He quickly grabbed his suitcase and brushed pass you, jogging down the stairs. "Wait!" you call out, running after him all of a sudden. He groaned in annoyance, "what do you want now, l/n?" he asked with an annoyed tone.

Without thinking, you quickly walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his torso. Your head laying against his chest as he stood there in shock at the action. His hands released his suitcase in shock, he didn't know what to react to the gesture.

"Hurry back" you whispered quietly yet desperately. Your voice sounded fragile and weak, almost as if you were begging him not to leave. This made Lucas' heart ache at the sound of your voice being so vulnerable. Your arms wrapped around his torso tightly as you nuzzled your head against his chest.

"And be safe" you shuddered. Truthfully you were afraid that something bad's going to happen. And you get a feeling that you won't be seeing him for a very long time. Surprisingly, Lucas let out a soft chuckle, looking down at you.

You look up, your chin against his chest as you stare into his eyes which had something that wasn't anger nor annoyance. A soft innocent smile was on his face instead of his usual scowl. His hand reached out to caress your hair.

"I'll be fine, l/n" he spoke comfortingly, reassuring you confidently. You smiled at this new side of him that you have never seen before.

Soon, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer towards his body. The other went up to caress your cheek with his thumb, the warmth of his palm causing you to lean against it and your hand unwind itself from his torso to wrap your fingers around his wrist.

You look up at him, your heart pounding against your chest. His eyes slowly darted up from your pupils to your lips repeatedly, unconciously moving his face forward and closer to yours. Soon, your eyes widen at the contact of soft lips meeting your slightly chapped ones, making you let out a small squeak.

Lucas' eyes fluttered close to enjoy the moment of his lips pressing against yours. You soon got control of yourself and kissed back, the grip on his wrist tightened as your remaining arm that was wrapped around his torso moved to wrap around his neck to run your fingers through his hair.

He let out a small noise of content when he felt your lips contracting against his, his hands that were around your waist moved up to caress your back slowly and soothingly. Before he could move to deepen the kiss, he quickly pulled back.

Your cheeks flushed red as your fingers mindlessly moved up to touch your lips. "Shit, I'm gonna be late for my plane." he cursed when he opened his phone, he quickly grabbed his luggage and briefcase before leaving without another word.

You collapsed to your knees, the moment that just happened before you had shook your to your core as butterflies swarmed in your stomach, your chest beating inside overtime and your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you couldn't prevent a smile from stretching across your face.

-----------------------------------

Months has passed and he still hasn't returned. You went to the headquarters to find some information about him, any news, any reports. Anything that could reassure you that he's alive and well.

For months, you worried and you longed for his presence. How he would get annoyed at you for doing the simplest of things and how he would snuck behind your back to eat your home-cooked meals or him barging into your shared home.

You tried to find any information about his whereabouts, where he was going or what was the mission about. But according to his subordinates, it was all classified, even to his own family and fiancé. Of course it was. This is Lucas we're talking about.

He will not contact you or see you and will hide things from you if it's really serious. Though, at this point you were just beyond worried for his well being. What if he got injured? What if he got shot and wounded?What if he got kidnapped and killed?

Millions of scenarios flooded through your mind, increasing your concern over Lucas. You missed him. Even though all you two do is quarrel over the silliest things and even though you rarely see each other, you missed him. You missed him with all your heart. But thankfully, you got other things to worry about.

It was past midnight, you were walking down the empty roads with a briefcase in hand which you just retrieved from an ally. You casually walked down the road, humming a merry tune as you swung your hands at your sides.

'Boss, we got something' the voice operator told you from your earmic. "What is it?" you whispered, pressing onto the button on the machine in your ear to speak to the operator with brows furrowed in concentration.

"Above you, boss. There's someone with a shotgun in hand" she responded. "Thank you, I'll deal with it from here" you said before turning it off. You looked up at the buildings around you, putting on some zooming glasses, the lense enabling you to see things that are far.

Your eyes widened at what you were seeing. You couldn't believe it. Your eyes well up with tears as you quickly tore the glasses off of you and dropped it to the floor as your eyes began to blur with tears. There he was. Lucas. He was on the rooftop of a tall building, a shotgun in his hand, locked and loaded. Aiming it's target right in the space between your eyes.

Lucas stared down at you, his eye peeking through the lense of the telescope of his gun. His eyes widened when he saw yours. It was bloodshoot red, welled up with tears as a small smile slowly stretch upon your face.

His jaw clenched at the sight, his heart skipped a beat. He hated the fact that you could make him feel things he never knew he was capable of feeling without even trying. He hated the fact that he worries about you. He hated that you had him wrapped around your little finger.

Lucas silently growled as his finger slowly looped around the trigger. He knew that the love he was in was never gonna end with her around. He wanted to let go of this love without hurting the both of them. Him more importantly.

He bit his lip as he saw your face painted with tears. His heart was getting heavy. It was tough, too tough, he wanted to make her go away. To make her run away from him. To make her despise him. His finger twitched as it hovered over the trigger, hesitant to pull it.

But he knew that would never happen unless she's out of the picture. He knew it's going to be painful and it's going to hurt him more.

Maybe if he breaks the both of them, they can get out of this love situation? Maybe if he just accepts the situation and live as a kind and queen in the mafia?

He let out a cry of agony as his heart clenched, whichever one he chooses it's he, who loses. Either he lose the love of his life or he loses his well and pride. Screw it. He was trapped inside a love he knows he can't escape.

He pulled the gun away and waved at you to come up the building. He saw you quickly run up to the building, causing a chuckle to escape his throat. Soon the door to the rooftop opened, revealing a very exhausted y/n with her face red with tears.

"Lucas!" she exclaimed, a wide smile stretching across her face as she ran up to wrap her arms around him tightly, sobbing into his chest. "Thank God you're okay! Oh my God, you're fucking alive" she cried, her fist bunching up his shirt tightly.

He wasn't expecting her to be relief at the sight of him. This made his heart ache even more now that he realised that you have been worried about him despite him purposely ignoring you over the pass few months and nearly tried to kill you. Yet you didn't make a move to avoid the shot or run away from him.

You just stood there staring at him with vulnerable eyes. Lucas' arms wrapped around your tightly, his head buried in the crook of your neck and shoulder as a tear streaked down his cheek. He was willing to go through hell now, if it meant that he would be this close to you.

"Im sorry. Im sorry, y/n" and that was the first time he ever said your name. A smile spread across your face as you pulled his head back to look at you, you saw that his eyes were bloodshot red and was already pouring tears like a tap due to the aching guilt inside his chest.

You chuckled before pressing the back of his head with your palm, pushing his face towards yours to make your lips meet. You're finally home.

[petri808]

Everything Changes in a Flash

Psych!  You don’t need to wait two days.  

that gif is too adorable! @deku-smash​

Guess who!  It’s your secret Santa!  @diablothecat

​Didn’t wanna wait any longer to give this to you lol.  @kuroshironekoserver

​

I tried doing the Sengen ship but that was difficult since I don’t know them, so you get a Bakudeku BNHA/Dr. Stone crossover idea instead lol.  Frankly, I surprised myself, I kinda like this one.  Enjoy ;) 

Today was the day Izuku was gonna do it.  High school was almost over, and before they may scatter to the four winds, he needed to tell Katsuki everything.  It didn’t matter if he was turned down or not, at least he’d know the answer.  Well, of course it would hurt worse than breaking every bone in his body if Katsuki rejects him, but injuries heal in time.  That’s what he’ll tell himself, anyways.  

Thirteen years brought to a single moment in time, the last four struggling to cope with the realization Katsuki was more than just a childhood friend in his eyes, but a romantic crush in his heart.  It seemed, once he was no longer in the other’s shadow, Izuku’s true feelings found the strength to grow.  Katsuki…. Kaachan… a childhood nickname, turned secret endearment.  Every time he said it, the name brought a smile to his lips and an aching joy to his soul.  

“What’d ya want nerd?”

The pacing young man freezes as the voice of his unrequited sounds off behind him.  Every nerve sets off ricocheting signals along his skin as he uses all of his reserve to keep from setting off his quirk.  He turns on his heel in an abrupt motion.  

“Bakugou,” Izuku runs his hand shakily through his hair, “thank you for coming.”

“I got your note to meet by the old clubhouse,” he holds up a crumpled piece of paper.  “This better be good that I had to come all the way over here.”

‘Just breathe,’ Izuku reminds himself, ‘and stick to the script!’  He takes a couple of steps towards the broken-down shack they once called their hangout.  Well Bakugou’s hangout really, he was a nuisance to the blonde back then, always following him and his friends around.  The structure of old crates and worn pallet wood had mostly come apart, but the tree it was attached to still stood strong, and larger than he’d remembered.  

Izuku runs his hand along the bark, “do you remember this?”

Katsuki’s eyes narrow in on the old, skewed words carved into the tree trunk.  He moves in closer, close enough to Izuku that the heat radiating off the other man’s body makes his arm hairs stand on end.  His hand reaches out on impulse to follow Izuku’s hand movements, cutting off inches before it touches.  He pulls it back.

“Tch, yeah, what of it?”  Katsuki averts his eyes to the shack, a slight trepidation in his tone.  Izuku had carved their names onto the wood after they graduated primary school.  A show of their friendship, the boy had called it at the time, that would last as long as that tree stood firm.  Back then Katsuki had scoffed and never took it seriously.  So, this mouse of a boy idolized him, no surprise, a lot of the boys wanted to be his friend.  Fast forward to high school and that boy was now a young man on par with him.  Different yet equal in terms of strength and drive.  Katsuki had to admit to himself, the nerd had grown on him.

“I…”

Izuku opens his mouth to talk when a strange thud catches his attention.  Both men look down to find a stone bird lying near Katsuki’s feet.  That was odd, Izuku tips his head curiously, it was the second one he’d found that morning.  He looks up just as another one falls, landing a few feet away.

“What the hell is that?!” Katsuki growls.  He stomps over to this second bird and picks it up, turning it over in his hands.  “Is the sky raining statues?”  Though from where in cloudless skies?  

The gears in Izuku’s mind turns, analyzing the situation.  Was there a quirk causing this, another mad scientist?  Could it be a villain sending bombs disguised as bird statues?  They’d grown to be wary and careful now that their names were all over the news.  But nothing was making a whole lot of sense and very quickly, the carefully scripted afternoon was thrown out the window.  Katsuki himself was scanning the surrounding areas, his own sensibilities on high alert because of the strangeness of the event.

“You know…” as Izuku looks closer at the bird, “I don’t think this is just a statue…”  The details were almost too realistic to be made of sculpted concrete or stone.  He takes the second one from Katsuki and notices finer nuances that clearly make these two “statues” very different despite being the same species of bird.  “In fact…”

“What is that?!”  The blinding flash of light grabs their attention from a distance.  Now what is it?!  Katsuki turns quickly as if to take off in that direction, but not Izuku, something was seriously wrong!  A gale of wind funnels through the grove like a shock wave.  Birds take flight from the trees, only to start dropping one by one around them as stones. The light, something in the light was causing this.  It was growing brighter by the millisecond and heading in their direction!

There was no time to hesitate.

Izuku activates his blackwhip quirk and grabs Katsuki, pinning him against the tree.  The man growls and screams to be let go, but Izuku didn’t care, only wrapping the man tighter in its dark form.  He could barely hear Katsuki anymore above the whirring sound barreling towards them.  Without thinking and placing all his energy into his quirk, Izuku uses his body to shield Katsuki as best he can from whatever this light was about to do to them.

The light bathes them in its yellow hold of, no pain… Izuku remarks at first, but soon, the sensation in his feet starts to fade.  He couldn’t feel his feet!  His eyes widen, panicked!  How was he to protect his friend if he loses the ability to control his quirk?!  It was too dangerous to turn around to check on his friend, but he could hear Katsuki cussing up a storm.  Loud booms echo from the nearby areas.  From what little he can see, Izuku watches in horror as one than two airplanes crash into the ground and send billowing plumes of smoke rising into the air.  One of them was precariously close to the dam!  New cracking sounds funnel through the forest.  Izuku side eyes the stream running past them.  Oh no!    

“Grab onto the tree!”  Izuku shouts as the petrification reaches his torso.  “Bakugou, grasp onto the tree!!!”

“Why the fuck would I?!”

“Just do it!!”

It was the last words he could utter as the petrification completes its mission.  

Silence…. from Katsuki.  As the wall of water hits and washes him down stream, all Izuku can do is hope that his friend had finally listened to him.

Time.

How much of it had gone by?  Weeks, Years?  He had no clue.  Was there anyone left alive?  Living in a dark world behind stone eyelids, the only thing Izuku could do was think.  It was tough, wondering what had happened.  If any of their friends or family had survived.  Exactly what was he anyways?  Was he still alive and trapped in a stone body?  Or was it just his consciousness refusing to give in, with his body long dead.  The only thing that kept him from giving in to a deep sleep was his love for Katsuki.  If his mind was still alive, then by hell or back he was going to stay conscious!

Wait.  That’s strange, Izuku wonders one day.  Something about his body felt, lighter.  If that was the right word for it.  He still couldn’t move, see, or sense anything, and yet… what if he tried to…

Crack.

The faintest light strikes his vision.  Vision?!  Was the petrification finally wearing off?  Izuku wills his mind to push the body he hopes is still viable.  

Crack.

More light filters through, blinding like when you walk out of a dark movie theater into the bright lobby. Unable to shield himself from its glare, he refocuses on the mission and pushes again.  

Shatter!

Izuku falls to his knees amongst the pile of his broken stone shell.  He was free!  Alive!  He raises his hands up, gazing upon them in disbelief.  He was alive!  A drip falls on his head and he reaches up, finding a smear of something gooey.  He brings it to his nose and smells, shit?  Eww!  He wipes his hand quickly on a piece of stone.  Wait!  His smell is back!  Sight, smell, touch.  It was all real!  

The light source from the entrance was minimal, but he takes in more of the scene.  A cave with bats, hence the guano.  Apparently, he’d been washed into a cave.  Drips of water from the ceiling.  This location was partially underground and shielded him from the elements.  Guano…. Right!  Hydrogen and phosphate are high in acidity!  Could it have mixed with the water and over the years eroded away the stone?!  But, even if that was the case, it must have taken years for the process to happen.  Izuku’s shoulders slump.  His luck had been great that he’d been washed into a place that fixed him.  Now he needed to see if he could fix his friend too.

After leaving the cave, Izuku pauses a moment to take in the warmth of the sun’s rays.  Man, it was nice to feel heat again!  All those years of darkness and inactivity made the light hurt his eyes, but it was a minor inconvenience.  He shields his eyes from the glare, and it was only in that moment that he realized…. He was stark naked!  “Crap!” Izuku covers his mouth after letting out a swear word.  Something to clothe himself with just shot straight to number one on the priority list.  

The brush surrounding the cave was dense.  It appeared that the forest had overtaken the land once humans were no longer around to control it.  He pushes his way through, careful not to scrape against anything and risk injury.  If he were to hurt himself now, he would be really screwed.  “Ahhh!”  Izuku kicks a hard surface and trips over it.  “Oww!”  

Crack!

“Huh?”  He scrambles to his feet as more cracking resounds.  

“What… happened?”  The voice moans out, groggy like waking from a long sleep.  

Another human!  Izuku drops and crawls forward, pushing aside more vegetation that was covering the person.  “Todoroki?!”  Of all the people to run into!  

“Midoriya?”  The man sits up with his old friends help, “why am I naked on the ground?  And why are you naked too?”

Izuku blushes, “don’t you remember what happened?  The bright light turned us all to stone.  I don’t know how you ended up here, but I’m guessing that your proximity to the cave and water eroded the stone away like it did for me.  My kicking you cracked it and freed you.”

“I don’t understand the bit about the cave, but…” Shoto goes silent for a moment, “I was with my dad when the dam broke and that’s all I remember.”  He looks up at his friend, “so, you’re saying we were turned to stone?  Why?  How long ago was this?”

“I have no idea,” Izuku shrugs, “it happened too fast for any of us to know what caused it, but based on the overgrowth of the forest, it’s been a few centuries.”

Shoto stares at the man, “centuries?”  Izuku nods.  “That’s unfortunate.”

Izuku sits down beside his friend and runs his hand through his hair.  “At least there’s one thing we know, it’s that the stone can be broken and a person freed.  We were lucky it happened naturally for us, but if we want to help others, we’d need to speed up the process.”

“It’s amazing, Midoriya, you just woke up from a stone prison and the first thing on your mind is still to help others.”

“We’ll of course!” Izuku blushes but affirms his belief with a raised fist and determination in his eyes.  “If it turns out a villain was behind this, it’s our duty as pros to save as many as we can.”  And it was true to his self-less nature, he wanted to help who he could, but there was really one person he wanted to free over all of them.

That finally brings a small smile and shake of his head from Shoto.  “Any idea how to speed up the process?”

“If I’m remembering chemistry class, fermenting or rotting fruit contain traces of alcohol, mixed with the hydrogen and phosphate laced water, it could speed up the process of corroding the stone.”  

Shoto sticks out a hand to Izuku, “then let’s get started.”

For the next six months, the pair work to set up lodging and create the bare necessities for survival.  They’d been lucky to have awoken during the late spring, when the temperature was climbing, but soon enough they’d have to deal with winter.  With the use of their quirks, foraging and hunting wild game came easy enough, and with meat came the hides and skins for clothing.  Neither of the two men had any experience roughing it in the wild, but somehow, they made-due under the circumstances.

Whenever they had a chance, they gathered fruits to ferment, and stored them in a makeshift hot box near the cave to speed up the process.  Searching the area was another downtime activity.  Very little of the terrain could be figured out based on what they remembered of their time, too many trees and brush had reclaimed the area, and landslides or other natural phenomena had altered things even more.  Area’s they were sure once contained buildings and homes built of metal and wood had long since deteriorated.  

As for people, within the first week, Izuku had found Katsuki still stuck to the tree.  Izuku had breathed a sigh of relief to see that the man had actually listened for once and was gripping to the bark.  Vines had partially covered the stone edifice, but overall, the man was in one piece.  It was rare, but they found others, some broken beyond repair, but a handful of more still intact.  They made a note of the locations so that once they were able to solidify their formula, they could bring them back to life.  

And they tried.  Using stone birds as test subjects, the pair worked and reworked different combinations of the ingredients.  

“If only we could find Mina,” Izuku tiredly remarks, as he drops into a cross-legged position on the cave floor.  “Her acid quirk would come in really handy.”

“We’ll find her one day,” Shoto places a hand on his friend’s shoulder.  “We’ll keep looking until we find our friends and family.”  He sits down, “but, I’ve been thinking, that we should be careful about who we bring back to life, I wouldn’t want to bring a villain back to life or anyone we know is a bad person.”

Izuku rubs his chin, “that is true.  It’s something we can assess as we go along.”  He didn’t like to think about the negatives, and frankly he was mostly concerned about Katsuki.  “Shoto, do you remember where Momo was at the time of the incident?”

That brings a rare blush to the man’s face, “She was supposed to still be at the dorms.”

“Yosh!  Then we need to figure out where UA used to be.  That’ll be one of our missions!”

Shoto chuckles.  He knew what his friend was alluding to.  “Plus, we may find others there as well.”

Winter came and went, bringing a burgeoning supply of water leaching through the cave’s ceiling. That was great for the two men, who in anticipation had made dozens of clay pots to catch the drippings with.  Izuku held out hope that now almost a year since they’d been freed, they were close to a break-through.  That last couple of test subjects had almost seemed promising, with the stone chipping away, but unfortunately not cracking.

One day, as Shoto was out hunting for dinner, Izuku had finished another distilled serum.  He places a bird on a flat stone-like table and pours a small amount of the mixture over it.  At first, the liquid simply runs over the hard stone, just like every other failed time.  But then, as he turns away to close the jar holding the serum, he hears a tiny noise, and as he looks over his shoulder, tiny cracks begin to spiderweb along the stones surface.  His eyes widen, surprised, excited!  It was working!  Izuku quickly grabs a makeshift wooden crate and places it over the bird, moments before the stone shatters.  He couldn’t let it get away, not before Shoto had returned.  Through the stick bars, it was clear the bird looked exactly as it should.  A bit panicked no doubt, confused from waking up and being stuck in a cage, but it was alive!  It was a miracle but being a nerd had finally paid off!  

“Todoroki!” Izuku shouts and waves as he sees the man walking back up to their home.  “it worked!  The latest serum worked!”

“That’s amazing,” Shoto smiles and drops the bundle of small game he’d collected.  He walks up to the cage, peering down at the bird.  “No side effects?”

Izuku shakes his head.  “Seems completely normal.”  He lifts the cage and they watch the bird fly away.  “See?”  Inside he was screaming with excitement.  All these years trapped, all the months working towards this moment.  “We can really save people Todoroki…” his voice trails out, quiet, pondering as if that was a new emotion.  Where once they would risk their lives to protect from harm, now they had the power to bring them back to life.  Including his Kaachan.  

“We’ll start with the ones we know, so they can help us too,” Shoto places a hand upon his friend’s shoulder, “but first, I’m sure there’s one in particular you’d like to revive.”  He smirks, “go, I’ll be working on dinner.”  With a last squeeze of his hand, Shoto walks away.

Kaachan…

“But wait!” Izuku turns quickly and calls after his friend.  “Momo too needs…”

“Midoriya, we haven’t found her yet.  You know where Bakugou is, go and heal him.”

“I promise Todoroki, we’ll find her next!”

“I know.”  Shoto smiles and turns back towards the hut.

As he stood there face to face with the man, he held dearest in all the world, his hands were shaking so badly it would be a miracle if Izuku didn’t crush the clay vial he held.  That would be a real pity with just the one dose left until they could make more.  Draped over his arm, he brought some clothing that should fit Katsuki, a small knapsack of food, and a flask of water.  

Fear and doubt creep over him as they did that fateful day so long ago.  What if Katsuki rejected what he had to say?  With the rest of the world asleep or long dead, there wouldn’t be many options for a long time to find another love.  Izuku closes his eyes in resolve, it didn’t matter.  He needed to free Katsuki from the stone prison that held him, it was the right thing to do.

He places the belongings on the ground and goes to work freeing his friend from the confines of vines and other vegetation that had collected around the man’s body.  ‘You kept him safe,’ he runs his hand along the tree bark, ‘thank you.’

Now the only thing holding Katsuki to the tree was the man’s stone fingers still gripped to the knotty bark.  If Izuku tried to move them, he risked breaking them.  He’ll just have to leave Katsuki in place and catch the man as he falls, but luckily the distance is only a couple of feet.  Here goes nothing!  With the help of his blackwhip quirk, the vial is taken and poured over Katsuki.  Izuku watches with bated breath as the viscous liquid covers the stone man from head to toe.      

Slowly cracks begin appearing, just as they did on the bird, then.  

Shatter!  Followed by a familiar growl.  

On impulse, Izuku had shielded himself from raining stone, but that also meant Katsuki had fallen on his own to the ground.  He whips his head back to the tree to see the man already getting to his feet.  Izuku blushes hard at the naked adonis and quickly averts his eyes to the sky.

“Somebody better explain what the hell has gone on!  I feel like I was stuck in some dark ass void forever!”

“Y-You were, Bakugou.  We were frozen for centuries in stone.”

“What!!”  He notices the pile of broken rubble around him.  “Then how’d I get unfrozen??”

“After breaking through, I figured out how to reverse it.  I’m sorry it took me longer to free you!  I worked as fast as I could.  He-here,” he picks up the clothes and such, handing it to the man, all the while keeping his gaze elsewhere, “right now only you, I, and Shoto are alive.”

“Tch, figures half and half is alive,” Katsuki snatches the clothes from Izuku and starts putting them on.  “So now what?”

“W-well, so, the world as we know it is gone.  The forest has reclaimed everything.  We’ve got a shelter built, created things we need to survive, and have been working on making more of this reverse serum to save others.”

“Oh.” Katsuki tears into a dried piece of meat.  “Why is it just the three of us?”

Izuku tenses up and nervously rubs he back of his neck.  “Speaking of that, you’re actually the first we’ve used the serum on because…. Before this all happened, do you remember how I had asked you to meet me by the tree?”

“Yeah, so what of it.”

“I have something I’ve been wanting to tell you, well, for a long time, and I just couldn’t do it because I was so scared of how you would react.  Then the whole disaster happened, and I thought I’d never get the chance, but now I do.  So, I chose you to be the first to be freed so I could even though...”

“Goddamnit nerd!  Stop rambling and get it out already!

“I’m in love with you!” Izuku shouts back at the top of his lungs, before choking and his voice dying away into a croak.  “Kaachan, I’m in love with you and I’m sure you don’t feel the same way, but I just needed to get it off my chest.  If you don’t want to stick around, I’ll…” his shoulders slump with a sigh, “I’ll understand, but you’re welcome to stay with us.”

“Are you done?”

Izuku nods.

Katsuki walks up and grasps Izuku’s chin hard, tilting it up, and forcing the shorter young man to look at him.  “I fucking hate you sometimes nerd…” he grins, “but I love your stupid ass more.”

“What?!”  This is not the reaction Izuku had expected!

“Just fucking deal with it!” Katsuki kisses Izuku hard and rough on the lips, just like his personality, then swiftly releases the man, who stumbles backwards and barely keeps his footing.  “Come on nerd, we ain’t got time to waste tap dancing in the forest.”  He grabs Izuku’s hand and starts dragging him towards the closest path he sees.  “So, where’s this shack of yours?”

“R-Right!” Izuku falls inline, still flustered but beaming from ear to ear.  He had his Kaachan again.  

And as they walk back to camp, the young man took stock of their lives.  Cut down in the beginning of their pro years and sent backwards to live out life like the Neolithic.  It would be a hard life no doubt, without the technology they’d come to rely on to make things easier.  But they had each other, and soon others, who together will rebuild the world, one stone at a time.    

[jbbuckybarnes]

Petal Light - (1/7)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Petal) Summary: Hydra has taken over, there is surveillance everywhere and you need to stay covered or inside as much as possible. The Avengers slowly begin to form a resistance with civilians to start taking down Hydra bit by bit. Who thought your mind would be occupied with a little light that runs all around the compound? Warnings: Angst if you squint A/N: This is not beta read, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway!

M A S T E R L I S T | Petal Light Masterlist

“Are we good on food for the month?” Tony asked while walking into the common room. “Yeah, could be more variety but I guess it’s enough to fill the bellys of those three dorks.” you grinned and pointed at Steve, Bucky and Sam. “Hey! I don’t even eat three times a day!” Bucky pouted. “Yeah, but you eat like a fucking vacuum.” Sam joked and a play fight started. Your hand wandered over your face, “And these boys should be helping us to build a resistance? Are they gonna be in the department to oversee the children? Cause that’s where they belong.” You looked at Tony and Steve with a raised brow. “Come on, they are not that bad once they are actually outside of this building.” Steve defended them. “Bucky tackled Sam in public for stealing a few M&M’s.” You crossed your arms. Steve opened his mouth and then closed it again, not having any comebacks to that statement. “GUYS!” You yelled and they stopped bickering and looked up with utter innocence. “You either get your shit together or I’ll throw you at the enemy head first.” You grumbled. Both stood up from the floor with their eyes on the floor, “Sorry, Petal.”

Petal was your code name, mostly used by the press, just like they called Steve Captain or America’s golden boy. They’d given you the name after seeing you fly from building to building like “a mix of Spider-Man and Black Widow.” You’d broken Steve’s nose in a training session and had kicked Bucky’s arm off its hinges, making you the strongest female hand-to-hand fighters besides Natasha. They respected you just as much as her and when you went serious they turned into little boys, just like they did with her. You both had your fun with that, but you were not going as easy on them as she was. Somebody had to lead the team in the places Steve had biases in. Some press started calling you Miss America, always on Steve’s left side together with Sam on his right. Bucky always somewhere in the distance looking out for your trio. Well, the press had talked about you until Hydra happened recently. Instead of S.H.I.E.L.D it was the CIA, FBI, NSA, the senate & the military this time. They had people in all the departments they needed them to control the people. The compound being one of the few safe spaces above ground thanks to Tony’s insane security measures. Thanks to Stark’s other insane ideas you still had surveillance over the country to an extent through his satellite system. “I heard rumors about them building something like concentration camps. Did we already check that with satellite data?” You asked as you walked into the lab area an hour later. “Yes, but we can only suspect that the buildings we find are that.” “Well, then we need to check as soon as we get the chance to. I’m not rotting in here watching the world burn and I’m sure you don’t want that either. But for now keep working on the drone destroyers.” You looked at Tony. “They are not- you know what, why not.” He shook his head. “Once we have those we can do missions and then build a bigger team, then a resistance.” “What is it with you and resistance?” He smiled. “Leaders need to listen to the masses or be fought by them if they don’t adhere to their wants. No matter if it’s a democracy or a dictatorship, Tony. Doesn’t the US have ‘We the people’ standing everywhere?” You dipped your head to the side. “Yeah, guess you’re right, but that’s not gonna happen as fast as you think it will happen.” he looked back to his little alternative EMP device. Since Hydra’s EMP strikes hadn’t ruined their own tech like the drones they used around cities for surveillance, you knew there was something different to them and shot one down to inspect it. Tony was currently building a device EMPing just them in a small radius. The strength those things had were also their weakness in the hands of a genius like Tony Stark. Banner and Cho were also working on things that would be helping the oppressed in the hands of Hydra or the ones living underground. Banner was currently building an amazing artificial nutrient bar that would help the people that would be joining the resistance soon and didn’t have food available. You hoped all the setup time you had would be worth it. It was apparent to you that you were very obsessed about all of this and the others weren’t, but somebody had to think about all the possibilities when the rest didn’t do it. “So, are you gonna test it first?” Tony looked up again. “Well, I guess,” you mumbled. “Guessed since you’re the stealthiest and Bucky isn’t really someone I trust with my tech YET.” He quickly added when you inhaled. “I’ll do it.” You smiled down at him starting to connect things in the device. “Great, not get out of my lab and tell them I want waffles.”

“How far is he?” Steve asked when you entered the kitchen area. “Seems to be going forward normally. I’ll do the mission trying it out.” You sat down and grabbed a waffle from the middle of the table. “You don’t have to.” Steve answered immediately. “Yeah, but he trusts me the most with it, so I’ll do it.” You looked over at him on the other side of the table. “Jesus, why is half of the team so tense today?” Sam asked. “Petal is always tense.” Bucky smirked over at you and got a raised eyebrow back to which he shifted his eyes to his food again. “Yeah, and maybe we are having dinner in the middle of a dystopian film set.” You mumbled, pissed at the interaction between the men. “Hey, you’re working on it so hard, I didn’t-” “That’s the problem, you all act like there is no way out of this and it pisses me off. Deal with it bird-brain.” You sent him a death glare. “Woah, I definitely care. I just don’t wanna run right into their arms on accident.” Bucky added. “Well, then don’t? You’re a damn spy and sniper!” You grumbled. “Okay, could we all relax? That was rude.” Steve looked over all three of you. “Oh, and telling me I’m always tense wasn’t?” You hissed, grabbing your plate and walking to your own room. “You two are absolutely useless idiots sometimes.” Was the last thing you heard from Steve before you closed the door.

[heartofsnark]

A Hope County Christmas (Part Two): Seed Family Dinner

Notes: Second chapter out, wooooo! Note to self never start on a christmas fic after christmas, you just end up stressed. Also, the first chapter has to my shock been getting a lot of love over on AO3, which I really appreciate, thank you to everyone who likes and enjoys my weird garbage. 

Summary: It’s Christmas time in Hope County and as one might suspect, it can be hard to find any Christmas spirit to spare with Eden’s Gate waging their holy war. Junior Deputy Dahlia Hale fully suspects this holiday will be spent just as every last day has been spent since they tried to arrest Joseph Seed. But, between the Rye’s incurable optimism and the Seed’s…fascination with her, she can’t say she expected this.

You can read part one right here!

Word Count: 4678

Warnings: Non-consensual touching (It’s not inherently sexual, Faith basically washes Dahlia but still), bathing/washing, drugging, kidnapping. Polyseed. Jacob has a pet Judge Wolf and John has a pet cat, cause idk, I like that shit. 

The radio cuts out and Dahlia groans, rage and wrath bubbling in her veins. She can’t have one normal fucking day.

“That John Seed, I swear to god, he can’t take a fuckin’ hint.” Nick is already pissed, just the mention of John Seed does that to him.

“Could anyone else hear John stroking it, or was that just me?” Sharky looks around for confirmation.

Dahlia is already up, her movements and body language drawn tight as she yanks the sweater off over her head, grabbing her uniform shirt and jacket that are strewn on a chair.

“Where are you going?” Kim asks, face twisted up with worry, eyes soft.

“It’s John, if he wants to me, he’s gonna get me. I stay here and your place is gonna be swimming with peggies before you know it. Just ‘cause the Seed got some sick fascination with me, doesn’t mean I gotta ruin everyone else’s night.”

“Fuckin’ let ‘em come, we’ll blow ‘em to smithereens.”

“All they need is us all drunk and vulnerable, none of us are in any state to fight,” Dahlia says with a sigh, handing the sweater back towards Kim.

“Keep it, you can wear it again next year.” That little notion of hope, of a future with more Christmas parties makes Dahlia smile.

“Thanks.”

“But…can you ride your bike, right now? You’re not exactly sober either.”

“Doesn’t matter if I ride or walk it, as long as I get some distance between here and me. I’ll be fine, you don’t hear from me in three days, you all know what to do.”

She gives her friends a half-hearted wave, trying not to let the anger and stress show through. One day, all she wanted, one fucking day.

The cold air hits her flushed face and she sighs, tucking the sweater into the trunk space under her motorcycle seat. She lights a cigarette both for warmth and stress relief as she pushes her bike away from the Rye home. If she were sober and more energetic, she’d be crafting how to escape his capture team. John’s are always the easiest to avoid. Once she managed to evade them three time, liberating a cult outpost and helping a defected peggie before they nabbed her. John was fuming and she was grinning. But, she’s not sober and there’s not much to do.

She’s a considerable distance away, surrounded by woods. Engines rev, his capture party getting close. Dahlia sighs, at least the Rye’s will have a decent party without peggies ruining the damn thing. A white truck with the familiar cross designs pulls up. She recognizes the cultists in the front seat, a face constantly showing up when she’s kidnapped.

“Hey, Teddy,” she greets him.

“My name is Theodore.”

“Hey Teddy.”

“I’ll never understand what the father sees in you.”

“You and me both, bud.”

“You’re not running today?”

“I’m drunk man.”

“Of course, you are.” He aims the gun, loaded with bliss bullets, at her.

“Do we really need the bullets today? I’m not even running!?”

“Shooting you is the most fun I have anymore, so yes, we need the bullets.”

“Seriously, I-OW!” The bliss coated bullet sinks into the meat of her thigh

Within seconds her vision starts to swim, colors distorting and her limbs growing heavy before she falls back on the ground. Theodore hovering over her.

“Dickhead,” she slurs out before the world goes black.

 Dahlia blinks a few times as she slowly comes back in consciousness. There’s still a haze to her brain, but she feels more sober than she did before she was kidnapped. A soft familiar humming is drifting through the room, the same one that echoes through the Henbane. She tries to get up out of bed, but can’t hardly move her body. No ties or restraints, her limbs just to heavy to move despite her head feeling clear. The cult is always fucking around with new strands of bliss, she’s no longer surprised at the things it can manage to do to her.

Slender hands wrap around Dahlia’s wrists and she’s gently tugged up into a sitting position, she’s on a bed. Her legs now over the edge of it, Faith smiling and staring into her eyes.

“Hello, deputy.”

“Ugh.”

“It’s our first Christmas together, aren’t you excited?”

“Ugh.”

“I know, you’re still clinging to your sins, but don’t worry, we’ll show you the path. With love and patience.”

“And kidnapping.”  That earns Dahlia a stern look, like she’s a toddler who just stole a cookie before dinner.

“You still don’t understand and that’s okay, none of us are giving up on you. Now, you need to get washed up for dinner,” she fiddles with a glitter glue clump in Dahlia’s hair and lets out her soft little melodic giggle, “as pretty as this is, this is an important day, alright.”

Faith yanks Dahlia forward and off the bed, bliss heavy limbs making the deputy just fall against her. Her fingers knot in the white fabric of Faith’s dress, all her weight pressed against the taller woman. The youngest Seed sibling just giggles and pets Dahlia’s hair before leading her forward on shaky legs.

There’s a simple clean bathroom, steam rising up from the bathtub filled with water. Faith softly hums as she leaves Dahlia leaning against the sink for support, testing the temperature of the water. The soft steam twirling in the air around her face. She truly is beautiful, despite everything, Dahlia can recognize that the Seeds are attractive. Crazy assholes, but attractive ones.

Faith returns to Dahlia, their six-inch or so height difference feels like so much more when Faith looks down at her, pale hands pushing under her leather jacket. The deputy doesn’t have the strength to fight it, jacket hitting the ground. Then Faith is doing the same with the uniform shit, a noticeable twinge of anger in her expression when she sees the Hope County Cougars button next to Dahlia’s badge. Her hands skim slowly and teasing as she works through each layer, getting closer and closer to Dahlia’s skin.

The herald pulls Dahlia’s shirt up over her head. No bra and her chest is completely exposed. Green eyes looking over her breasts and Dahlia braces herself, expecting greedy touches and groping. Embarrassed by the way warmth builds in her center with anticipation. But instead, Faith simply hums and starts to undo Dahlia’s jeans. In moments she’s stripped completely naked, exposed in the bright light of the bathroom. No way to hide herself.

Faith gently leads Dahlia towards the bathtub, helping her into the hot water. She sits down and tries to pull her knees to her chest, but finds her limbs still not responding. Despite the situation, she finds herself relaxing into the water. The heat a welcome relief from the chill outside.

Things stay surprisingly innocent. Not that Dahlia wants it to not be innocent. But Faith’s touch never seem to deviate beyond softly washing her. Humming as she scrubs soap into the deputy’s skin, washing away the dirt and crafting mess. Sudsy hands exploring Dahlia’s legs, thighs, stomach, arms, and back. Constantly nearing her more sensitive spots, but never touching them.

She’s not proud of the whine she lets out as Faith washes her back, somewhere between cleaning and massaging. Faith shampoos and conditions her hair, the sensation of fingers working over her scalp makes her let out a soft sigh. Once she’s cleaned, Faith gently helps her stand back up.

A soft white towel rubbed and fluffed over her body, all still completely innocent. Faith seeming to find some contentment in just babying Dahlia, which would be great if not for the cult stuff.

“You keep looking at me like you’re expecting something, silly,” Faith voice teases by Dahlia’s ear, breath ghosting over the wet skin. Heat flushes up Dahlia’s cheeks.

“Ugh.”

Faith only giggles before she finishes drying Dahlia off, maybe it’s the heat of the bath or just the drug running its course, but she’s starting to regain a bit more control over her limbs. She can curl and move her tingling fingers now, which is something.

“The Father let me pick out the dress for you to wear tonight, it’s going to look so pretty on you.”

“Ugh!”

Dahlia expects something like Faith’s favorite dress, delicate modest white lace and flowers. But, while it’s white and has some lace touches, it’s less modest. Thin little straps instead of long sleeves, the deep neckline scalloped in a way that shows little peeks of skin between her breasts, and a band of lace beneath her chest that her skin shows through. The entire dress reaching the middle of her thighs. She’s thankful the building they’re in seems to be well heated.

Faith smiles wide at Dahlia in the dress, reaching for a white bliss flower that’s been place in a vase near the sink. She tucks it back behind Dahlia’s ear, the fragrance tickling the deputy’s nose.

“Absolutely gorgeous.”

“I miss my pants.”

“C’mon now,,” Faith pulls her wrists out and Dahlia expects to just be lead again, but instead she grabs rope from under the sink and binds the deputy’s hands together, “just in case it wears off, can’t have you running off in the middle of dinner, now can we?”

“Yeah…that’d just be a shame.”

Dahlia is dragged out to what looks like a dining room, the table has a cloth strewn across it and some sort of centerpiece but that’s all. Faith brings her to one of the chairs and ties her ankle to the legs of it when she sits down.

“Be back in just a moment,” Faith murmurs and presses a kiss to the top of Dahlia’s head before stepping out.

There’s the soft sound of clattering and messing around in the kitchen. Her limbs are starting to tingle, feeling slowly coming back. She starts trying to rock back and forth in her chair, if she can somehow break the chair she can manage to get away. Dahlia tries bouncing and jostling herself, the chair starts to tilt back and she’s hopeful it will break under her when she falls back.

It doesn’t.

She’s just on the floor now.

And she’s pretty sure the dress has fallen in a way that’s showing more of her than she wants shown.

Dahlia cranes her head to the side; there’s a large stone fireplace and her breath catches in her throat at what’s in front of it. A Judge Wolf, it’s eyes now trained on her. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

It’s a trap, it’s all been a fucking trap just to leave with a fucking wolf to get teared apart. The large lumbering wolf stalks towards her and every muscle in her body tightens. She screams as it presses a wet nose against her throat, sniffing at her, no doubt preparing to rip it out.

“You just had to bring that mongrel here,” John’s voice rings out, “shoo, shoo.”

He shoos off the Judge Wolf like it’s a puppy and it listens, John then grabbing the back of her chair and placing it upright.

That tingling of movement coming back to her fingers has started to shoot up to her forearms, she can clench and tense the muscles there. Her toes have followed suit as well, she can now wiggle them freely.

“You’re allowed your damn cat,” Jacob grumbles, the absolute mountain of a man looks borderline ridiculous as he sets food out on the table. The gesture so domestic and tame for the sadistic soldier.

“Yes, but this is my home, Chanel lives here. Judge does not.”

“I don’t know which is worse. Naming your cat Chanel or naming a Judge Wolf, Judge.”

“The hell else am I supposed to call ‘em.”

“Chanel is a perfectly respectable name.”

“Two Seeds pissed off in one sentence, new record!”

“No fighting, this is a time of togetherness brothers,” Joseph chides as he walks in, helping place food on the table with Jacob.

“Yes, Joseph,” John immediately backs down and ducks his head in shame. Meanwhile Jacob just shrugs, unfussed.

Dahlia focuses on watching Judge, the Judge Wolf, though she doesn’t even bother to name any animals she befriends, so really who is she to well, judge. The wolf is bigger than most of them, but decidedly better behaved. All of them are trained, but the ones she’s encountered out in the Whitetails have been more feral, would have attacked her on sight. But this one, Jacob’s personal Judge Wolf seems to be more restrained, but she knows too well that it would likely take one cue for them to be ripping her apart.

“Hey, Judgey, you wanna chew through these ropes for me?” She waves her wrists before the animal; they make a snorting sound before laying back down in front of the fire. She’s slowly getting more and more mobility back.

“Really thought he’d help you?” Jacob looks at her like she’s stupid, humorless dickhead.

“Just like his owner, fuckin’ asshole.”

Jacob flicks the back of her ear, making her yelp, no doubt if it wasn’t for Joseph, he’d be doing a lot worse to her. Hell, if it wasn’t for Joseph’s insistence that she’s their soulmate…or something like that, Jacob would have probably killed her by now.

“Jacob,” Joseph says in a low, stern tone.

“What?” A shit eating grin pulls at his lips, the gesture boyish and almost cute despite who’s doing it. It’s rare that Jacob shows many signs of enjoying, well, anything. But, the rare times she’s seen all the Seeds in one place, he seems infinitely more at peace and happy.

Joseph just shakes his head, his own gentle smile on his face, choosing not to scold his older brother any further.

Faith sits down on one side of Dahlia, John on the other, Joseph across from her, and Jacob beside him. Joseph’s intense blue gaze is already on her and she stares down at the plate that’s been place in front of her. She hates meeting his eyes, it’s weird.

“We’re so happy to have you here, Deputy Hale.”

The Seeds despite everything, still don’t know her first name, only knowing her last name thanks to their brief encounters prior to the reaping. Most of them settle for calling her deputy or some asinine nickname, Joseph is the only one who ever uses her last name and it always feels so strange. It’s never said with derision or vitriol the same way Deputy is constantly being growled or barked out at her over her radio. There’s always a warmth, a familiarity, that feels so out of place given everything that’s occurred. It makes her happy and uncomfortable all at once, so she reacts the best way she knows how.

“I’m very unhappy to be here.”

“It’s important to celebrate with your family,” John says, his hand coming down to rest on her thigh, just beneath the dress. His touch is warm, too warm, her stomach clenches, her heart flips, and her skin crawls. A mess of disgust and desire, she doesn’t want to deal with.

“I already was, at the Rye’s house, when you so rudely interrupted.” It’s the truth, the resistance becoming her family over the past several months. But her intention isn’t a declaration of her familial love for them, she wants to piss off John. They want to drag her into this fucked up family dinner, she’s going to do her damnedest to ruin it.

John’s hand squeezes tight, fingers sinking into the flesh of her thigh and she sees his jaw clench. Anger boiling up in his bright blue eyes, he leans in closer, nose nearly touching her own.

“Those sinners are not your family; we’re your family and you will come to accept that, sooner or later.”

“If I was a member of your family, I’d blow my brains out.”  

“John, this is not the time to indulge in your sins,” Joseph warns him, and John lets go of her thigh, the skin still warm where his touch lingered.

“I’m sorry, Joseph.”

“The deputy will come to see the truth in time, we must guide her with love and patience.”

“Love and patience,” she parrots back in a mocking tone, Joseph gaze is stern and disappointed, she grins. One of these days she’s going to wear through his patience and actually piss him off.

“Holidays such as Christmas has become corrupted and commercialized by the modern world.”

Joseph starts to speak as he serves food and she can’t help but groan, waiting for another spiel about how technology is the devil and Thomas Edison was a witch. Granted he was an asshole idea thief.  

“As a society, we’ve strayed from the real purpose of celebration, focusing on consumption. My family is one of the few, who truly understand that these times are meant to appreciate each other, to celebrate that the Lord has seen fit for us to let us share these moments with one another, after years of spending them apart.”

Dahlia bites her lip, staring at the plate that being piled high with food. She read the Book of Joseph, an attempt to better know her enemy. But sadly, with knowledge came empathy. She knows what the Seeds have been through, how their family was torn apart. As fucked up messes as they are, she can understand that the holidays and time they spend together would feel so much more important to them.

A part of her feels bad, this is important for them. And for the most part, they genuinely believe in the shit coming out of their mouths, she thinks. The only one not convinced she’s meant to be with them, part of their family, or whatever is Jacob. But he wants Joseph and John to be happy, which sadly means encouraging this. So, to them this is genuinely an attempt to gather the whole family. Like parents trying to get their moody teenager to have Christmas dinner with them.

However, they still kidnapped her and have hurt countless people.

Once food is on everyone’s plates, Joseph takes his seat again, she’s still avoiding his intense stare.

“Let us say grace.” He joins hands with Faith and Jacob, Jacob and John join hands as well. Leaving a tied-up Dahlia as the kink in the chain. She raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, I can’t be blamed for this.”  Though, god knows they try to blame her for everything else.

John settles for wrapping his hand around her wrist and Faith follows suit on the other side. The Seed family bows their head for prayer and Dahlia stares down at her food.

She’s reminded of days sat at the table, her stepfather thanking god for the meal while she was begging any god listening to give him a heart attack. Though, somehow, she has decidedly less anger and vitriol towards the Seeds. Her thoughts more centered around getting them in a facility with good mental health resources.

Joseph’s words drift in one ear and out the other. Being nice enough to not interrupt doesn’t mean she’s willing to pay attention. Its thanks, for letting him have this blessed day after enduring so many trials, or something to that effect. She’s busy pulling and tugging one of her ankles, slowly loosening the ropes around that ankle.

“Amen.”

“Amen.”

“Happy to see there’s no mac n’ cheese, heard how well that went last time…”

“That mac n’ cheese was perfect, Nick is just dramatic,” John blusters, face flushing red and she can’t help but laugh, just as she’s slipping one foot from her binds. Thankful she was tucked in close enough to the table that neither of the youngest Seeds can peer down to see her legs.

“Guess I know who’s to blame for that one.”

“We usually don’t allow John in the kitchen,” Joseph admits, a soft teasing smile on his lips. No longer The Father, leader of Eden’s Gate, just an older brother teasing his baby brother.

“Be better off letting Judge cook for you,” Jacob comments, grinning at his flustered younger brother.

“I can cook when I want to!” John tries desperately to defend his cooking skills.

Dahlia’s laughter only gets stronger, belly aching. Despite his flustered attempts to defend his mac and cheese, John’s smiling. Jacob and Joseph chuckling while Faith is giggling. All during which Dahlia’s using her free foot to help work the ropes off of her other ankle, loosening them.

“Awwww, poor little Johnny can’t even make macaroni, so sad.”

“You know, dep-yoo-tee.” He tips her chin up with his fingers.

“Must you say it like that.” She slips her other ankle out and resists the urge to kick John, she’s not ready to escape, not yet, not with everyone around. It’d be too dangerous, probably.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your taunting is just your way of showing you care.”

“Well thank god, even you’re not that stupid.”

“John, stop hogging the deputy’s attention,” Faith says, and Dahlia can hear the pout in the older woman’s voice.

“I’m not hogging anything; I’m simply having a conversation with her.”

“You’re literally forcing her to look at you and no one else.”

John’s jaw clenches, he can’t really argue with that, now can he. The youngest brother of the Seeds reluctantly let’s go of her chin.

“Was that so hard?” Faith taunts her brother, playing with Dahlia’s hair.

The Junior deputy could probably escape right now. There are forks and knives available that can be weapons, she can’t out strength Jacob, but she can outrun him and he’s unlikely to trigger her brainwashing when the only people here for her to kill is his family.

But she doesn’t.

She decides, instead, to try to eat, since the food doesn’t seem to be killing anyone else and the smell is making her stomach growl. All she had at the Rye’s party was sweets and she’s not sure how long she was out for, so she might as well eat. That makes sense, right?

Besides, there will be better opportunities for escape, they’ll leave her alone at some point.

Her wrists are bound, and she finds herself struggling to managed to bring to fork to her mouth. But the hunk of turkey and stuffing just falls to the floor, Dahlia glaring at it.

Judge is there in a second, munching up her failure to feed herself.

“Jacob, get your mutt,” John says, trying to get Judge to leave, but he’s not listening this time.

“Leave Judge be, he’s my favorite living thing in this room,” Dahlia tells John watching the wolf finish up the table scraps, before placing his large fuzzy head on her thigh. Unnaturally bright silver eyes gazing up at her, she reaches down with her bound hands and gently scratches the rough fur behind its ear. To her surprise it doesn’t growl or pull away from the affection, instead leaning into it.

“The Judge Wolves are killing machines that run on pure instinct, not puppies for you to cuddle,” Jacob warns her, voice low and gravelly, but there’s a small grin on his lips.

“He sure isn’t turning down the ear scritches.”

“Here, deputy, it’d be easiest if I helped feed you,” Faith offers, scooping up food on a fork and holding it up delicately to Dahlia’s mouth. Her cheeks flush red, something about it just feeling ridiculous.

“I could probably, just.” Dahlia tries to take the fork from Faith’s hand, uncomfortable with the idea of being fed. Faith gently smacks away her hands.

“Don’t be silly, here.”

Dahlia reluctantly accepts the bite of food, it’s really good, she can help but smile as she swallows down the mouthful of perfectly cooked turkey and potatoes.

“Holy shit, that’s really good.”

“Language,” Joseph chides and she snorts out a laugh, his tone reminding her of Virgil.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Jacob grumbles, his mouth full of food, is he the one who cooked it?

“Ugh, your wolves have better manners than you,” John criticizes his older brother.

“Fuck off.”

“Language.” Joseph is smiling as he chides them and Dahlia hates that she is too, they’re just a family giving each other shit, enjoying each other’s company. Another time and place she’d be envious, wishing she had a family like them.

“Here, try this,” John says, offering her another forkful of food.

“I was feeding the deputy, John,” Faith grumbles when Dahlia’s attention is once again stolen away from the youngest brother, Dahlia happily accepting the food.

“I’m allowed to feed her as well, Faith.”

“Not when you’ve been stealing her attention this entire time, here, deputy.” Faith turns Dahlia’s face just as she swallows down the food, already shoveling more food into her mouth.

“Actually, you’d probably like this more.” She’s still chewing when John retorts and is shoving more food into her mouth.

This continues on and on, Faith and John tugging her attention back and forth, shoving food in her mouth. Judge licking up any bit that falls. Dahlia is struggling to choke down the inordinate amounts of food continuously being shoved in her face. It’s ridiculous and she finds herself laughing too, eventually leaving her a coughing and hacking mess when mingled with the food.

“You fucking choked her,” Jacob says, chuckling and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“See what you did, Faith.”

“I was attempting to take care of her, you were the one being greedy.”

“You’re like two little kids fighting over a toy,” Dahlia manages to say once she’s cleared her windpipe of stuffing.

“Don’t let John fool you, he’s not as young at heart or in reality as he’d like you to believe.” There’s a catty smile across Faith’s face, mischief in the glare she throws John’s way.

“Are you accusing me of being a liar? That’s rich, given your history, sister.”

“Jacob, why don’t you take Faith and John with you to start washing the dishes?” Joseph suggests, clearly trying to end the bickering before it escalates. Jacob groans and Dahlia realizes that yes, the meal is over, John and having still managed to feed themselves while fighting over feeding her.

“Come on, ya brats,” the oldest Seed tells them, as he starts to pick up dirty plates. Faith and John reluctantly follow suit.

“I am not a brat,” John attempts to defend himself a final time as the three of them take the dishes back to the kitchen to be washed. Leaving Dahlia and Joseph alone at the table, even Judge having left to follow the others.

Intense blue eyes, on her like always. She stares down at her lap, now would be a good time to make a break for it. Joseph isn’t all that physically intimidating to her, but she doesn’t do it. She doesn’t now why. But she doesn’t do that.  A shift of movement catches her attention and she watches, ready to bolt if need be, as Joseph makes his way towards her.

“What are you?”

Joseph shifts her chair to the side, and she tenses, he’ll see that her ankles are no longer tied up. He pulls up the chair that she’s now facing, moving it as close as he can because he’s Joseph Seed and personal space is a concept he’s never heard of. The Father of Eden’s Gate sits down before her, close enough that their knees touch.

“I probably let that go on longer than I should have, I apologize. It can be hard not to let them indulge in their more childish impulses…after everything my family has gone through.”

One of his hands works into her hair, cupping the back of her skull and gently bringing their foreheads together.

“Yeah…”

“I’m sure you can understand that…thank you for staying.”

“You didn’t exactly give me much choice.”

Something between a chuckle and a huff of air reverberates in his chest, the sound rich and warm. She curses herself for the smile that tugs at her lips.

“You and I both know you’ve escaped far stronger binds… thank you for giving my family this night.”

“You do know that as soon as you go to help them, I’m gonna escape, right?” She meets his eyes, as difficult as it may be for here. He sighs and she can see concern darkening his eyes. Moments like these, she has to remind herself of the pain, the suffering he’s caused, otherwise…

“I know that you think the path you’re on is the righteous one, that you’re saving people. But, the time will come where you’ll see how misguided you truly are…”

“I-”

“And when that day comes, you will crumble and fall under the weight of just how many people you damned with your ignorance and sin. But, just like New Eden, something beautiful will emerge from your collapse.”

She clenches her jaw and Joseph stands up, hand still on her head as he gently kisses the top of her head. The soft compassion of it conflicting with the weight of his words. He starts to walk back to the kitchen to help with the dishes.

“You can’t ever just talk like a normal fuckin’ person, can you?!”

[fablesrose]

Of Kings and Shadows VI

Chapter VI

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Notes: On Wattpad –> Here

Series Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Man, this thing is so itchy'

I wiggled a finger into the brace around my neck, trying to reach the itch in vain.

Every time my mind was drawn to the brace, or my neck, in general, I thought about Loki. Thor talked to me within the week, apologizing, and explaining what had happened.

"It's no excuse, of course..." He said

"But I guess this means that he doesn't have it out for me?" I tried to stay lighthearted, but couldn't help shifting the brace. I winced when I pulled a little hard, straining the weak flesh beneath.

Thor chuckled weakly, "something like that"

"Well I'll make sure not to participate in infiltration missions anytime soon, and if I do, change quickly"

"You shouldn't be on any missions anytime soon. You need to rest and get back to strength, Y/n"

"I appreciate it, and I will, your Highness"

"Good, but please, just Thor"

I simply smiled.

Flash forward a couple of weeks, in the infirmary for a check-up. They needed to see how my neck was healing and to get an idea when I can live without the brace. They keep saying I was lucky. No neurological damage, a moment longer, or harder and he might have broken my voice box, causing voice changes, and the miracle of not having any of the worse side effects. No bloody vomit, no personality changes, I didn't lose consciousness, it doesn't look like I'm going to have seizures. Only a minor concussion, no long-lasting effects.

They keep saying that, I'm lucky, but if I had just taken the jacket off. Left the helmet in the locker room. It wouldn't have happened in the first place. Just because I was stubborn. Some times it still seems strange to be able to take in a deep breath. Time and time again, I have to shake my head, dispel the uncomfortable feelings, flinch at the twinge at my throat.

I didn't feel so lucky.

"Y/n?"

I looked up to where a friendly woman was calling for me to come into the room. I never enjoyed doctor appointments, I mean who does? I feel like I'm complaining, and I always feel uncomfortable telling these things to a stranger. It's almost worse with someone you know... You see them again and they can judge you.

"Y/n, you need to relax. We can't asses the state of your [big word that I didn't catch... something in my neck] if you are straining your neck."

She had taken the brace off, and to be honest, I felt like a newborn. My head was too big for my body, and it was going to tip over, taking me with it. The only thing keeping my head up was the immense amount of effort I was putting into keeping it there.

"I know it seems weak, but it's stronger than you think. You need to relax"

I opened my mouth and stretched my jaw, trying to get the muscles to relax. Not just for her either, they were starting to painfully cramp. "I'm sorry, I'm trying. It's not working"

After about five minutes of me trying and failing to relax, she gave up.

"Okay, we're gonna have to try a different approach. I should be able to look at it without your cooperation"

I blanched, "wait... What"

Another woman came in with some equipment and a form.

"Sign this please"

I looked over it quickly, signing it with the pen she gave me. "What is this"

"Don't worry, it isn't dangerous. The form just says you are allowing us to do this and won't sue if things go awry. Which it won't" she continued to get it in the right position next to me. It looked like an IV bag, but there was obviously something else in it.

"That isn't comforting"

The doctor took a needle and the tourniquet to my arm. Then attached the bag. Only after did she turn to me and say, "well, this will be."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint walked down the hall, towards the infirmary. Y/n was supposed to have her follow up around this time and thought he would check-in and see what the doc said when she got out since he had a break. He walked into the waiting room to see Y/n looking puzzled at the ground. She waved a hand in front of her as if she was trying to grab something she couldn't quite see.

"Y/n!"

She looked up and smiled before doing a more forceful slap in the air. "Hi Clint"

"Are you okay? Have you gone in already?"

"Yes and yes, I have just seemed to have lost my desk"

Clint looked around just to make sure that he was in the infirmary, questioning himself first before the girl in front of him.

"Um, Y/n, you aren't at your desk "

She glared at him, which caused him to step back, "Well obviously Clint!" She  gestured at the space in front of her, "Because I lost it!"

He sighed and walked up to what one could call a receptionist, "Hey, can I take her?" Clint threw a thumb back at the confused girl sitting behind him.

The guy at the desk looked around Clint to Y/n. "Hey, miss L/n?"

She peaked her head up at the sound of her name, "Yes, sir?"

He smiled with a patience that can only be blessed with one who has dealt with way more whacked up patients, "Do you know this guy?"

"Yeah, that's Clint. Barton. Agent Barton"

"Is it okay if you go with him?"

"Yeah, as long as he helps me find my desk"

The receptionist straightened himself in his seat and fixed his gaze on Clint, "So, she seems okay with it, so I'm gonna have to get your ID and fill this release form."

Clint handed him his SHIELD ID to be scanned and started filling out the form. Once he was done he took his ID and walked back over to where Y/n was sitting... Only to find she wasn't sitting there anymore.

Clint snapped around to the guy at the desk.  He just shrugged his shoulders with wide eyes, organizing the papers he got handed.

Snapping back around he said the only thing that fit the occasion, "well, shit"

Y/n wandered the hall, her lost desk long forgotten. She was hungry, and could not for the life of her remember where the kitchen was. It didn't help that the hallways kept changing like the labyrinth. She kept a hand reaching for a wall, occasionally steadying her. She followed the walls, hoping to find somewhere that had food. Soon she started to lose time and stopped paying attention to where she was going.

That was until she bumped into someone, to which she stopped and looked up at him. He seemed familiar.

"Oh, Y/n" He paused and looked at the brace around her neck, "I will just apologize for--"

"What's your name again?"

He looked down at her, baffled, "Loki"

Her eyes widened, eyebrows raised, and her mouth formed a perfect little "o" in realization, "That's right, sir. Now if you'll excuse me, Your Highness." She continued down the hall, now actively looking for the kitchen once she was startled awake per se.

Loki just watched after her confused. That was not how he expected their first conversation to go after... Not that he was planning it, but he had some ideas, and that was not one of them. After a moment he continued down the hall but was stopped again by someone else bumping into him. Loki scowled, why couldn't anyone watch where they were going?

Clint had a hand on the wall and was bent over panting as if he had been sprinting for a while. "Loki! Have you seen Y/n?"

He looked at him with ruffled eyebrows and dragged out his answer, "yes?"

Clint instantly straightened, "Where'd she go? I have liability over her at the moment and she disappeared on me."

Loki pointed down the hall to where he had spoken to her, still very much confused.

Clint dashed along the wall leaving Loki without another word. Loki had a debate in his head, and by the end of it he sighed and took off after him. It didn't take long for Loki to catch up and pass Clint with his fresh and very long legs. He eventually skidded to a stop when he found the target, still wandering with no idea where she was going.

"Y/n! There you are."

She turned at the call of her name, right as Clint caught up. "Oh hi, your highness."

Clint gasped and turned to Loki in betrayal, "what'd you do to her"

"I didn't do anything! Why's she like this in the first place?"

"Hi Agent Barton"

Clint turned his attention back to his charge, "Oh, she's just doing that thing she does." He walked up to her and looped an arm around her shoulders, making sure she didn't go anywhere, "Hey, let's get you to the common room, then we can figure out what to do with you."

"Is there food in the common room?"

"If you want there to be"

She perked up even more, "Lead the way to the food"

The three of them walked around the building to the common room, an amazing feat of navigation from Y/n's point of view. They sat her down on the couch, Loki making sure she didn't go anywhere while Clint went into the kitchen. He came back with a bag of potato chips and handed it to Y/n.

"Why is she like this? She isn't even scared of me"

"They did something to her during her check-up... I wouldn't feel too bad, she was sitting in a chair in the infirmary thinking she had lost her desk"

"Hmm"

They just stood there and watched as she ate her chips, trying to figure out what to do with her.

"What's she doing?"

"Hey Tasha, " Clint turned to the newcomer, "she's fresh from her follow up in the infirmary. I'm thinking they doped her up, so she's pretty out of whack."

"I'm on drugs?!"

Clint approached her slowly, "No! What I mean is--"

"No! I can't! Have you seen how many commercials there are??" She sobbed and looked up at Natasha, "I can't be a warning Agent Romanoff!!"

Natasha sat down next to her, "Its Natasha sweetie, you're not going to be a warning"

Y/n didn't listen, "I failed *crunch* the *crunch* D.A.R.E. program... *more crunching from chewing potato chips*"

"Oh dear" Loki, Natasha, and Clint all looked at each other, it's gonna be a long day.

Over the next hour, all the Avengers gathered in the common room to try and calm Y/n down, but nothing seemed to be working.

"I promised my parents..." That caused her to cry even more, and Bruce handed her a glass of water. "Thank you, Dr. Banner." As she drank the water she began to calm down like a miracle. She finished the glass and let out a small sniff, "I'm gonna get fired..."

They all sighed, here we go again.

"If I'm fired I won't ever get to see you guys again..."

They all paused, touched that even in her clouded brain she would think of all of them.

Tony was the first to speak, "Don't worry kid, you can't get rid of us that easily"

Everyone either nodded or voiced their agreeance, except Loki. He simply shrugged, he had no attachment to her.

Y/n reached up to scratch her neck, but just scratched the brace. She put both hands around it and felt the stiff fabric, "why is my neck so big?" She tried to take it off, but Clint stopped her.

"nonononono, leave that on. It's better than it was before. The brace is less thick this time."

"My neck was thicker?!"  

"Okay!" Tony stood up from his chair, "I'm gonna ask what the crap is going on with her when it'll wear off"

Loki stood after Tony had left and started towards his room.

"Brother! Where are you going?"

"To my room to be alone"

A chorus sounded behind him, "Nope! You get to deal with her with us!"

"May I ask why?"

"Cuz you're the one who got her in this situation"

He sighed and flopped back down into his chair, summoning a book to read.

"OH! I like books. What is that one"

Loki looked at the childlike wonder in the drugged woman on the couch, "One you wouldn't understand"

There was a moment of silence, "Probably true sir" She looked down at her lap, "I want a blanket"

Loki turned back to his book while someone got up to grab Y/n a blanket.

"Why don't you tell me what the crap is going on with Y/n!?"

The doctor who treated Y/n calmly replied to Tony, "what do you mean?"

"Why did you give her so much morphine?"

"We haven't given her morphine in over two weeks"

"Then what did you give her?"

"We brought in the anesthesiologist and put her under in order for her to relax"

"Why didn't you give her something like laughing gas or something that wears off faster?"

She looked him dead in the eyes, not wavering, "Because Mr. Stark, it was my call, and we don't have that equipment here. The injuries we usually tend to are large enough for them to be put under to deal with. I suggest you don't question the medical doctor in the room"

Tony sighed and took a step back.

The doctor turned and whispered to the nurse next to her, "and the author thought it would be funny"

"What was that about an author?"

She smiled, "I was simply talking to her about my favorite book and author that I follow. It was a continuation of before you arrived."

"So how long... when will the effects wear off?"

"She should be ready to drive home by the end of the day"

He closed his eyes and huffed out a breath, "Thank Thor"

Tony reentered the common room ready to relay the news. It was almost picturesque, the whole team there, supporting a mutual friend. She was wrapped up in a blanket, carefully eating a cheese stick. Everyone seemed tired, just enough energy to make sure she didn't runoff.

Tony smiled and took the last available spot next to Steve. "She should be ready to go by the end of the day."

"That's good news. It seems like the effects are starting to wear off already."

Everyone relaxed, a quiet afternoon ahead of them. Surrounded by the people they worked with and cared about, it didn't turn out to be a rotten day. Everyone was ready for a nap though, dealing with Y/n's behaviors. So they started to doze.

Quiet

Peaceful

Comforting

"Wait! Where's my desk!?"

Tags: @nightrose64

[adampage]

I Saw Hangman Kissing Santa Claus

Pairing: Hangman x Moxley

Warnings: Smut, Drinking, Biting, Choking, Oral, etc.

Word Count: 2,288

Author’s note: Happy holidays and Merry Christmas! This is my addition to @25daysofchrismuts​​ hosted by @toxiicpop​ for Day 23​! Hope y’all like my dumb rare pair that I love and adore so much!

Link to ao3 or read below the cut!

Adam swayed violently on his tiptoes as he reached for the bottle of whiskey on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. “I need another shot of whiskey.”

“You really don’t,” Mox mumbled, stuffing his mouth with gingerbread cookies on the couch, the crumbs sticking to his velvet red coat.

“But I want one.” Adam’s fingers grazed the bottle, swiping at it. He missed.

“All you’re gonna do is spill it on the floor, cowboy.”

“I won’t this time, I promise.” Adam pouted to himself, invisible to his boyfriend staring out the glass windows of their apartment at the gentle snowfall.

“This time?” Jon smirked. “So you’ve already spilled some whiskey before, huh?”

“Maybe. Kinda. A little bit.” Adam swiped again, this time with a little hop in his step, to no avail. He huffed quietly. “Biscuits. It’s fine, it’s fine, just—“

“Oh, no you don’t, tiger. Hands off.” Jon raised an eyebrow in his direction, having let the cowboy’s shenanigans go on long enough.

Adam regarded his palms with inebriated incredulity. “Then where do I put my hands?”

Mox raised an eyebrow, mouth curling at one end. “I can think of a few places.”

Adam dropped his hands. “You’re a bad. Bad Santa.” The cowboy squinted suspiciously in his boyfriend’s direction.

“Don’t I know it.” The cookie crumbs fell to the floor with a swipe of his hand.

“Really. Really bad.”

“Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show just how bad I can be?”

“You’re on, Santa.”

Jon Moxley had a drunken cowboy fall smack into his lap before he knew it, lips eagerly crashing onto his own like a wave breaking along the shore. Their scruffy jaws scratched against each other, neither of them passive enough to back down, challenging each other to be the first to break this kiss and draw the shaky breath they so desperately needed.

It was Adam’s untamable, inebriated strength that caused Mox to gasp and pull them apart, Adam grinding against him.

Jon couldn’t help but grin. The cloth around his hard on felt tighter than he was used to. In the couple of months that they’d been together, Adam had never been this aggressive when they got down and dirty. Mox was usually the one in control, always the one to instill direction in their lovemaking. But one thing he always enjoyed doing — whether it was in the ring or outside of it — was inciting Adam. His temper, his will, his love. It was an addicting kind of chaos, when Adam gave in to his emotions. There was nothing more enticing than knowing he could rile Adam up, so that’s exactly what he would do. Rile him up, and hand over the reins. Mox’s breath tickled Adam’s earlobe as he spoke, low and gruff and sexy. “Manhandle me again.”

Greedily, Adam pulled at Mox’s red Santa coat, buttons clicking open in sequence to reveal Mox’s soft, bare chest, heaving deeply after their breathless snogging. He placed a hand on the pudgy skin — drunkenly, giddily enjoying the white mark of it that remained on Mox’s flushed chest. Adam gasped sharply, a crooked smile appearing on his face, framed beautifully by his unruly lion’s mane.

How Mox so desperately wanted to turn the tides, have Adam pinned down on the couch beneath him, have him be the one unraveling at his touch. To spread Adam’s legs open and have his way with him, to command him mind, body, and soul. But he could do nothing now, nothing as Adam hastily, forcefully tugged on his dazzling belt buckle and whispered sweet slurred words to him, blue eyes sparkling with a deep, dark, lustful secret.

“‘...sweet baby Jesus...just wanna, see you lose it completely...babe...Jon—oh, boy…” Adam’s eyes went wide as he recognized the thick, bulging shape of Jon’s throbbing cock beneath his boxers. The intoxicated cowboy licked his kiss-swollen lips hungrily at the sight. He raised an eyebrow, bright eyes meeting Moxley’s in matching cockiness.

Mox held back a growl.

Lazily, so that he could make Mox learn a lesson or two in patience, Adam made his way down Mox’s body. First, a suckling of Mox’s neck, so emphatic that he left conspicuous markings along the tender skin. Nibbles along his collarbone, his chest, his ribs. Raspberries blown against Mox’s tummy, that confident smirk never leaving Adam’s face.

Mox squinted at him as soft needles prickled his skin at his cowboy’s touch.

Adam roamed lower still, paying Mox no mind as his tongue danced along his hip bones, Adam’s fingers sinking into Mox’s thighs with force unparalleled.

Mox’s breathing deepened, chest heaving with every sudden movement of Adam’s tongue. Adam was close now, teeth nimbly tugging at the waistband of his boxers. Mox’s blood pressure rose with his adrenaline, blood rushing to his now-visible cock. “Tryin’ to get off the naughty list, cowboy?”

Adam chuckled lowly, his voice coming out rougher than its normal soft tones. “Suppose I’m tryin’ to make sure I stay on it.” He was sobered up by now, hyper-aware of every movement, every shift in position. It was next to impossible to keep from grinding against the couch now, not when he had a heavily-breathing Moxley coming undone beneath him.

He took Mox’s cock in his hand, his tongue trailing from balls to head, kissing the tip softly, something he couldn’t help doing even with his boyfriend’s expectation that this was a different Adam. Already, the cock was leaking for him, and he could hear Mox’s quiet grunts of pleasure. Adam gathered spit around the throbbing member, allowing his hand to run along Mox’s shaft in taut strokes.

Jon hissed, sharp intake of breath breaking through their home. Sounds now, grunts and deep moans as Adam took him in his mouth, his cock hitting the back of Adam’s throat and leaving it, over and over, for what felt like aeons. His breath ran ragged by the time his cock left Adam’s mouth with a pop, the coil that had been tightening within him easing unsatisfactorily. “Fuck, cowboy. Ya really know how to piss a guy off.”

“I learned from the best. Leg.” It was a demand, and Jon hesitated for a moment, just a moment, before complying, bending it up and over Adam’s strong shoulder. This version of Adam wasn’t one he wanted to cross.

His cowboy looked around, lust-blown eyes softening in confusion. “Lube?” A question, and another demand. Give it to me.

Jon smirked, thick arm reaching below them, underneath the couch, steel eyes never dropping Adam’s gaze, tongue between his teeth and taunting. He rolled a shoulder, his hips lifting in the process, and Adam’s cock throbbed with need. He needed his man, and he needed him now.

Their fingers touched as Jon handed Adam the lube, heat radiating off the both of them like a furnace. Adam reached for Jon’s lips, tongues sloppily meeting each other and once again unwilling to let go.

With a click, the bottle opened, and Adam forced himself away, reminding his body to take it slow.

“Adam.” Jon breathed the name hoarsely, as his cowboy took him again, this time the sensation lighting a fire inside him so quickly, deft fingers gently prying him open, preparing him for something even better.

“Jon.” The word was mumbled so matter-of-factly on the head of his cock that Mox wondered silently whether he was being made fun of.

But he knew it wasn’t true, for they both said their names with love. Fiery hot, durable, passionate love.

Another groan, as Adam’s finger pulled out for the last time, and Mox no longer felt lips around him, leaving him so inconceivably bare. Naked. Empty.

Adam hovered over him now, eyes asking the question.

Jon raised himself off the couch, nibbling tenderly along Adam’s collarbone till he reached his properly named Adam’s apple, and bit down.

He was rewarded with a flinch and a grunt from Adam, and yet it did nothing to deter the man. Another challenge, so easily accepted.

“Come on, tiger,” Jon spurred Adam on, “show me what a bad boy you are.”

“You wanna know how bad I am?” Adam veered back, dropping Jon’s leg and settling back on his knees as his fingers moved towards his own belt buckle.

“Damn right I do.”

“Fuck, Jesus.” Adam's tongue rolled along his lips and his hands stripped away his clothing.

“You’ll definitely stay on my naughty list with that filthy mouth, cowboy.” Jon’s hand reached for him, begging him closer.

“First thing I’m gonna do, is sink my cock inside you.” Adam took the hand in his own, fingers entwining for a moment before setting it on his cheek, feeling the fierce warmth of him, and then he slowly inched himself into Jon with an agonizing groan.

“Mm…then what?” Mox questioned, already satisfied at the wonderful feeling of wholeness that he felt now that they were together.

“Then I’m gonna,” Adam leaned forward to steal a slow kiss, “make you beg for every thrust.”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try,” Jon chuckled lowly, spreading his legs a little wider.

It was then that Adam pulled out, almost completely, before ramming himself back in. Jon let out a ragged grunt in reply, a grin creeping onto his face.

“Keep talking.”

Adam continued his forceful pace, finding a rhythm that suited him. His hips moved with a style unlike Jon had seen of his dancing, which was absolutely terrible.

“Never thought you could move like this,” he stated, his entire body moving violently with each of Adam’s thrusts.

Adam slowed, arching his body over his boyfriend until his mouth was at Jon’s ear. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

And then he bit Jon’s earlobe.

“Shit.” Jon winced, growl forming in his throat. He rubbed his ear, blood already clotting there. Without looking away, he licked the blood from his fingers. “You’re gonna pay for that.” He pushed Adam off, adoring the way his unruly, golden curls swayed at the motion.

He smeared translucent lube onto his fingers, wiggling one in a circular motion. “Turn around.”

“Good first try, though, admit it,” Adam grinned, doing exactly as he was told. Being the aggressive one was fun, but not for long. He enjoyed the feeling of Mox’s hands all over him, brute strength meeting his own, calmer, deeper strain of it.

Jon chuckled, fingers easing into Adam, pushing delicately at the rim. “Should’ve kept going. You nearly had me begging, just like you said.”

Adam’s eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck.”

“Payback time.” Jon’s other hand reached between Adam’s massive thighs, dancing along the curve of his round bottom.

Before Adam could reply, teeth sank into his ass cheek.

A flinch, and he made to turn back around, but Jon’s hand was already at his throat, and the other at his cock. He could feel it, the throbbing need intensifying.

“Whaddaya think of that, cowboy?” Jon whispered, breath hot in Adam’s ear.

“Shut up and fuck me, you idiot.”

That sinking, whole feeling, was everything Adam dreamed of and more. His hand dropped to cover Moxley’s, aiding him to stroke him off. They moved, bluntly, as Jon peppered kisses along Adam’s shoulder blades. It was enchanting, like a ritual, and damned if they could make it stop now. Not when they were both close, oh so close to release. The hand at Adam’s throat held them so close together, they could scarcely feel anything save the coil tightening in their intense bodily warmth.

“Jon, fuck, I’m gonna—“

“Let go, tiger. Fuck my hand like you fucked me earlier.”

They were both seeing stars now, black spots blooming in their eyes as Jon’s pace quickened. He was balls deep, and the only sound they could hear was the slapping of their bodies and their audible gasps for breath.

“Come on —Jesus—fuck.”

“I—I,” Adam groaned, his seed spilling from his cock onto the arm of the couch like strands of white silk; his hips bucked and his legs trembled, and all of a sudden he felt a piercing pain on his shoulder, what must have been Jon’s last attempt at stopping the loud moan from erupting from his mouth as he came inside him.

He rode out Mox’s orgasm, gently pulling himself from him and heading towards their bedroom once Jon’s head hit the couch.

“Where’re ya going?” Mox mumbled from the living room.

“Shush.”

Adam returned with two small towels. He kneeled down next to Jon, motioning for him to turn his body so he could clean him up. What he found was a bit of a surprise, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Already?”

Jon chuckled with his eyes closed. “Can you blame me? You’re hot when you’re tellin’ me what to do.”

“That’s not exactly how this ended, Mox.”

“You’re hot when I tell you what to do, too.”

Adam smiled, lips moving along Mox’s own for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, bad Santa.”

Mox’s eyes fluttered open at the feeling of loose strands of golden yarn on his face. “Merry Christmas, cowboy.”

“Come on, time for a shower.” Adam pulled him up by the hand, planting a kiss on it as well. Jon’s heart was so unbelievably vulnerable, then, not as it usually was. Cold and tough and distant was what he went for, most days. But that was before.

Before Adam Page.

Before this strong, self-deprecating cowboy looked him in the eyes and was unable to ask for his help, even though he needed it. That candid vulnerability that Mox so adored, that he wanted to protect, while also allowing for Adam’s chaos to grow.

Such a complicated cowboy.

“And then?”

“And then round two.”

[pkg4mumtown]

You’re Hard to Miss (Ch. 2)

CHAPTER 1

Summary:  John takes you back to his place. Did you really expect anything different after how the last chapter ended?

A/N:  Rating changed to Explicit because I got carried away (insert me shrugging and not caring). Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy started playing while I was writing part of this, so I threw that shit on repeat until I was done with the sexiness. Also, the chapter titles are lyrics from a song called Fade Away by INNA, Lush & Simon, and Sam Feldt. This chapter took me a little longer than I would have hoped because I would get nervous when I would remember that I was gonna post this publicly, so I'd have to stop and come back to it. Thanks for reading, liking, and commenting; it gave me a much needed confidence boost!

Chapter 2: A Second Lasts Forever When We’re Together

My heart rate picked up in excitement as he slid in the driver’s seat. His car roared to life and peeled out of the lot, my breath hitching in my throat as I felt his large hand make contact with the skin of my thigh. The entire drive to his house was silent except for my whimpers as his hand teased higher and higher up my thigh while gently squeezing. I was a writhing mess by the time he pulled into his driveway and parked. Suddenly, the warmth was gone and we were scrambling to the door. Once inside, I eyeballed his couch and tugged him in the direction of it by his tie.

“Got a thing for ties?” he questioned gruffly, following close behind.

“How could you tell?” I joked, watching him sit on the couch with his legs spread wide open. I shrugged my jacket off slowly and tossed it next to him, watching him shift in his seat as he was laser focused on my actions.

“Just a hunch,” he smirked before pulling me into his lap, so I straddled his form. His mouth found mine eagerly, a moan ripping from his throat as I settled my ass in his lap. He wasted no time in his efforts, running his hands up my thighs and under my dress until it was bunched around my waist.

We were so consumed in one another that we didn’t register the tapping of claws on the floor or the slight shift in weight on the couch. John’s face had buried itself in my neck as he dragged the zipper of my dress down, pausing when he felt an all too familiar tongue on his ear and neck. John pulled his head back, glancing next to us with a disgruntled growl. I locked my eyes on the happiest pittie I’d ever seen, his entire body wiggling in excitement at seeing his owner. I could see John trying to keep his alpha composure, but it all crumbled as soon as the pittie seemed to smile at him causing him to gently scratch the dog’s head.

He was soon reminded of his current mission as I shifted in his lap and rubbed against him. His hand retreated from the dog before speaking firmly, “Dog, bed, now.”

As if he had flipped a switch, the dog obeyed and toned its excitement down. It jumped off of the couch and padded away until we couldn’t hear its nails tapping the floor anymore.

John ripped the dress over my head, dropping it over the side of the couch without a care. His mouth fused back to mine, one of his hands sifting through my hair and grabbing roughly while the other slid to my ass. I wormed my arms in between us, undoing his tie and chucking it aside before unbuttoning his dress shirt. His hands released me as he quickly, almost violently, shrugged his jacket and shirt off at the same time. He reached behind his back, grimacing as he removed the gun wedged between his back and his pants. His eyes briefly flicked to mine as he double checked that the chamber was cleared, and the safety was on before tossing it on his jacket. Something about watching him handle his gun while I was pressed against his bare chest only made me want him more. His hands dropped to his pants and worked to get them off as I framed his face with my hands. He let out a frustrated grunt against my mouth as he struggled, slightly distracted by the way my nails raked along his bearded cheeks and back around his neck. He breathed a sigh of relief as he finally undid them, raising his hips enough to tug his pants and boxers down to his knees. The action was a feat in itself but he made it look effortless.

John’s hands grabbed either side of my hips, dragging me closer and hinting that I should grind down against him. I felt his thighs shift rapidly under me as he kicked his shoes off and shook the clothing off of his legs.

“Do you care about these?” he half groaned as my panties met his bare cock. His fingers played with the waistband of the panties as he waited impatiently for my answer.

“Yea, kinda of,” I mumbled against his lips, enjoying the groan that escaped his lips as I wrapped my hand around his length.

“That’s too bad,” he smirked, mocking my teasing from earlier. He tugged sharply on either side, the material giving way too easily under his fingers. He discarded the shredded garment and brought his hands back to my ass. I held his gaze as I stroked him slowly, watching him clench his teeth as he mulled over letting me continue or not.

“Not today,” he decided, moving his hand to my wrist and pulling my hand away from him and bringing it to his chest. His brow furrowed as he fiddled with the clasps of my bra, the last offending piece in his way being removed as swiftly as everything else.

“So, there’s a tomorrow?” I asked cautiously, biting my lip.

John’s hands guided me up higher on my knees as I guided him to my entrance. His groan turned into a sigh as I sank down on him, using the cushion of the couch as momentum to set a rhythm.

“You can have as many tomorrows as you want,” he sighed against my jaw, biting at the skin that his breath discovered. He sat up straighter and pressed his large hand against my upper back to keep me plastered against him.

I welcomed the sting his teeth brought, coupled with the burn of his beard against the sensitive skin. His hands each grabbed an ass cheek, spreading and allowing him to slide in deliciously deeper. A whimper ripped from my throat at the new depth, John’s grunts muffled into the skin of my neck. I leaned my body forward, forcing him to sit back against the couch and watch with open-mouthed anticipation as I propped my forearms on either side of his head. I had better leverage this way, being able to meet his hips harder and faster. I kissed him again, possibly too roughly as our teeth clashed for a moment before his teeth nipped at my lips in retaliation. I felt my body start to tighten around him, too early for my liking but I couldn’t help it with the new angle.

“Need help?” he asked in his deep, gravelly voice.

“Yes,” I hissed as I felt his hand disappear and reappear between us, ghosting over the aching bundle of nerves.

“Mm, I’m gonna need you to beg, like I was promised,” he murmured, his voice deepening if it was even possible. He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he waited.

“Please, John,” I just about purred as I dropped my lips to his ear.

“Please what?” he rumbled.

“Touch me, please, John, I—” I trailed off, whatever I was going to say dying in my throat as his thumb dipped back between us, rubbing circles against my clit.

I tensed in his arms, griping his inky black hair and kissing him while I shook and pulsed around him. My hips slowed as the stimulation became too much, earning me a frustrated growl from John as he tried to chase his own climax by moving my hips. In an exhilarating feat of strength, his arms tightened around me and I was suddenly on my back against the couch and his discarded clothes. The cold metal of his gun was digging into my hip, but I couldn’t find a reason to care as his hips slammed against me relentlessly, only prolonging my high and making me shake uncontrollably. My nails dug into his shoulders while his breath was hot and rapid against my neck. His ragged moans were lost as he bit into my shoulder, his hips stuttering and stilling as he came.

We breathed heavily for a while, his weight like a warm blanket over my sweat-slicked and cooling skin. I ran my fingers absentmindedly through his, now mussed, hair while his beard tickled my neck. I kissed his cheekbone, as he had yet to move his head while we waited for the feeling to return to our limbs. John eventually worked up the strength to heave himself up, protesting verbally as our bodies separated. He helped me stand on shaky legs and led me to the bathroom located in his bedroom. I grimaced as we walked, feeling the evidence of our time together trickling down my leg.

I leaned against the bathroom counter while he grabbed a wash cloth, wetting it and ringing it out before gently cleaning me. I jumped at the feeling of the cold cloth touching my hyper-sensitive skin, but got used to it moments later. I watched his eyes stare at the mirror beyond my form and look down, tracing his fingers along my hip. I glanced back, seeing the angry, red indent left by the gun’s hammer, grip, and safety.

“Sorry,” he murmured, pressing his lips against mine.

“Don’t worry about it,” I responded just as softly, nuzzling my cheek against his and briefly kissing his cheek. He used the cloth on himself, hissing at the temperature, then moved back to the sink to wash it off.

I moved behind him, tracing the scars and tattoos on his back with light fingertips. I met his eyes in the mirror, staring at me curiously as I silently admired his skin like an artwork. When he was finished, he turned around, faced me, and wrapped his arms loosely around my waist. He stared in my eyes intensely but thoughtfully, making me realize he spoke through his actions and eyes more than his words.

“You staying?” he asked with a hint of hopefulness.

“I can,” I nodded. “If—if you want me to,” I attached quickly and blushed.

“No need to be nervous, Y/N,” he smiled, his eyes hooded and relaxed. “I meant it as an offer.”

I nodded, letting him guide me to his bed and following his lead as he slid in on what I assumed to be his side. I slid in opposite of him, mirroring him as he laid on his side so we faced each other. I was oddly silent, not wanting to bug him with questions that I probably shouldn’t know the answer to. Not surprisingly, he noticed and called me out on it.

“You okay?” he mumbled the question.

“Mhmm.”

Even in the dark, I saw him raise an eyebrow in disbelief before continuing, “What’s on your mind? And don’t even think about saying ‘nothing’.”

“Just wondering,” I murmured, meeting his eyes and seeing that he was waiting for me to continue. “What do they call you in the ‘assassin’ world?”

He laughed partially through his nose, as if he was expecting a question far heavier than that, “They call me by my name, usually. John Wick, John, Mr. Wick…” he listed, shrugging and smiling at the odd question.

“Oh, come on, you’re telling me you don’t have a crazy code name like—I don’t know—Obsidian, or something?” I pushed, wrapping my arm around his shoulder to rest my hand in his hair.

“Obsidian?” he laughed, “Really?”

“I’m serious!” I snickered.

“Okay, but I didn’t pick it, alright?” he clarified. He cleared his throat and purposely made it deeper, “They call me The Baba Yaga.” Before I could ask what that meant, he continued in the same voice, “The Boogeyman.”

His tone of voice sent goosebumps along my skin, and I was torn between laughing and jumping his bones again. I, oddly enough, chose laughter and watching his face contort in confusion.

“Sorry, I just—Obsidian doesn’t sound so cliché after that,” I laughed softly, covering my mouth with the pillow. “Sounded kinda hot, though,” I winked.

“Not the reaction I expected, to be honest,” he shook his head with a smile.

“I’m just trying to picture you being scary enough to be named after a fictional horror character. It’s a little hard after I just watched you turn into a pile of goo for your dog,” I grinned.

“Trust me, you don’t want to find out. What you saw today was nowhere near close,” he sighed, rolling his eyes slightly.

“Yea, okay, Boogeyman,” I murmured with a sleepy smile and turned over, so my back was facing him.

“Oh, hush,” he muttered, wrapping his body around mine. He wormed his leg in between mine and wrapped his arm around me until his hand sat at the base of my neck. He buried his face in my neck, breathing deeply and attempting to drift off as he assumed I did, too.

Just when I felt his breathing begin to even out I spoke up again, “So, do you have like a bat cave, too?”

All I could do was yelp as he sank his teeth into my shoulder to shut me up, which morphed into a fit of hushed giggles from the both of us, in the otherwise quiet and dark room.

A/N:  Alright, thanks for reading. I think this is the last chapter, so I'll probably be exploring one-shots with imagines next.

Tags: @cuttlefishcatfish @synesthesiasocks @anita-e-taylor