#its got real “Scar no” energy

[applepixls]

lowkey why do cody and may's dialogue from It Takes Two kind of sound like grian and scar

[hinamie]

alongside someone like you

[pressureplus]

I actually have this request in my head for a while now... but I'm not sure if you be up to do it so thank to let me know if you will do it or not. Fem! Reader who is happily married and live together with Sebastian (when he still human). Until, Sebastian was arrested and sentence to dead. Reader found no long after his dead that she was pregnant. Years later, Sebastian manage to escape Hadal Blacksite probably very injured in the process. He was soon spotted by the kid that look similar to his human self (the kid probably be now close to be a teenager now), as the kid call up their mother. Sebastian was shocked to see his wife come to view.

I'm looking 👀

Love this dramatic shit, I'm SO here for it!

I'm going to be referring to your son as S/N, so y'all can name your boy yourselves! (I'm real interested in the stuff you might choose, so if you wanna put them in the replies, I'd love to see your baby names!)

Smaller Hands

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x Fem!Reader

Au: [Unnamed]

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy, an Absent Father, injury, and Imprisonment

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀ���◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He had been running a very long time before he got to where he was now.

Escaping the Blacksite was only the beginning of his long, long journey home. He had wrestled himself from the depths of the deep ocean and fought his way all the way up to the light far, far above him.

Breaking through the surface of the water had provided him with a hope he never thought he'd see truly grow into something he could really hold. Sunlight and open air and a horizon that stretched endlessly in every direction... Sebastian hadn't known freedom in over 10 years, but there it was.

The way the natural light caught the glint of his wedding ring had him already tearing through the water with a grin, energy back in his tired body. It certainly wasn't his original ring, no, that one wouldn't fit on his new, much larger hand anymore, but the replacement that he got so he could wear a ring on his hand and not just as a pendant was enough of a visual reminder of his love, sending him treading the water the way this body was made to do. He had to get to his wife.

He had to see his Y/N again. That's always what his efforts were for.

It was days before he even reached a beach, and weeks of dragging himself through the shadows and the alleyways, keeping himself out of sight. He would squint at road maps and try to figure out how he was going to get himself home, not very well able to get on the public transport or drive himself there with a body like this. He had to be more than a little creative with how he was going to cross the countless miles between his lover and himself if he wanted to make it there at all. He'd spend his seemingly endless days hopping trains and swimming rivers just to close the distance faster, like it may wash away the last decade he's had to go without her.

Sebastian could only hope she waited for him, though those chances were next to none. She had been there the day he was 'executed', watching him get taken back to the chair that was supposed to put his story to its end. She has every right and reason to think he died that day, and he could never be angry or upset if she decided she still needed to be held the way his other hands used to hold her... Would these hands even fit her anymore? They'd outgrown his first ring... Would they be too big to hold hers anymore? The painful thought was a reoccurring one, and it plagued every dream he had in the moments he would manage to rest.

He's nearing his old cottage now, beaten and scarred from the long trip home, more than a little bit tired and definitely hungry. He's barely going to make it if he manages to get to the doorstep at all, but more thankful than ever he'd made his home with her outside of the city and out into the woods so he might have a moment to his thoughts. He could very well find her with another man, or he could find a completely new family, or even find nothing but flowers and trees- The life that he made with her could be all but ashes on a breeze that swept this place years ago. She could be a memory and this could all be for nothing just as easily as anything else. He wouldn't even have a right to be angry... He wouldn't even feel a right to cry if she's decided to move on.

"SNAKE MAN! SNAKE MAN!!!"

He's shaken from his pondering by an unfamiliar voice, a starry eyed child fumbling out of the bushes like a little animal.

He nearly panics and flees before the brave, feral little boy reaches out for his hand and looks up at him like something right out of a story book- Which, he supposed may be fair given the way that he looks now.

"Are you a forest monster!? Do you grant wishes and eat people and stuff?!" It's clear the boy doesn't know fear, young and small still, with new eyes... But familiar ones.

Sebastian's heart drops into his stomach when he begins to recognize the thick, dark hair and deep brown eyes. This boy is the spitting image of the way he looked when he was around 10 or 11... It's like he's been pulled right from Sebastian's old childhood photos.

Too dumbfounded to speak, Sebastian stands there, every muscle in his body tense while his eyes flick around the boy's face trying to figure out how this could be.

"S/N! What are you doing talking to strangers, you were supposed to be at least playing in the yard and not the woods before the sun started setting." Y/N rounds the trees with a stubborn look on her face and immediately freezes when her gaze meets Sebastian's.

The air is knocked out of the both of them, leaving them only able to stare, and he notes the way she's remained nearly the same as the day that he was forced to leave her behind. Like a flower that never wilts, she stands as beautiful and as amazing as she was when he had first met her. Frozen with an expression he can't place, she makes no motion to do anything at all. The larger man acts first at the realization she must be frightened of him, going to put his two unheld hands up and open his mouth to explain himself-

"You said not to talk to strangers, this is CLEARLY a forest monster." Little S/N beats both of them to the punch and confirms to Sebastian all at once that his attitude is as strong in his blood as that unruly dark hair is.

"Heed your mother, would you? I could very well eat you." Sebastian ushers the child forward with a playful threat, the boy in reference pouting and looking back up at him.

"Come on, I'm only out a little bit late! It's not dark yet! Monsters only eat people in the dark." The boy argues, unfamiliar with the idea of real danger, it seems, but certain of himself the way only children really can be.

"Sebastian I can't believe it... Is it you? Am I losing my mind?" Putting the scolding and corrections on her son's statements off for a better time, Y/N looks up at the mutated form of her lover, hoping she might be right. When Y/N speaks, it's soft and uncertain, a hand going to rest on her child's shoulder so as not to lose him while she's distracted.

"You recognize me?" His heart practically jumps into his throat and he struggles to cope with how quickly she's guessed it was him.

"If not for the way one soul knows another, then for your voice and... Our ring." Unafraid just as well, she walks right up to the towering creature and brings her hand up to the necklace it's strung onto around his neck.

"Am I too late?" Sebastian asks, still scared.

"You're late, but never too much. You had better come home now though." She gets firm near the end and he laughs, melting.

"Awe that's no fair! I'm in trouble for being a few minutes late and he gets to be gone forever!" The boy whines and Y/N seems to laugh when she ruffles his hair.

"You can be out of trouble because it's a special day. Now, let's go home and get you to bed." Y/N's eyes stray back up to her husband, the fondness that was there in those beautiful eyes he fell in love with was something that had grown blurry and hard to recall until now. The way her gaze rested on him so softly brought him back like he'd never left in the first place.

"I think I have some things to talk about with your monster, here." She smiles at him and goes to slide her hand into his, the cold feeling against his palm of her own ring -the matching one to his from the promise that they'd made at that altar a long time ago- made him feel warm again, and made him feel alive.

"Yes, I've got a lot of things I've been waiting to tell her for these years we've spent apart."

[black-dhalias]

Hello? Are you willing to write about Jasper Hale x human female reader where they keep having inappropriate thoughts about each other and Edward cannot stand it any longer? It is completely okay if you are not interested in writing such a thing. Have a nice day :)

Lacks Control

Jasper Hale X Human!F!Reader Warnings: contains/mentions sexual content, light swearing

In most ways, you thought similarly to most humans and thought you understood how the world worked. You knew that there were balances in place, checks that keep the universe from overreaching a little too far. You believed in energies, and how people interact with each other often impacts what they receive unto themselves. You were absolutely sure that you understood yourself, but that was a year ago--before the Cullens arrived in Juneau, Alaska. Your home.

It was before Jasper arrived.

Now, a year later, you could hardly believe how different things have become; in many ways, you don't see the world in the same way. You see the world as brighter, and intense, and more mysterious than its made out to be. You glance at the alarm clock, shocked to see only minutes left--the night got away from you faster than you expected. It felt like you had just laid down, and now slanted morning light is streaming in from the partially open window—unbelievable.

You hardly understood what you heard that night, and if they wouldn't have reacted so brashly—you probably would have written it off, and left without another thought.

However, upon hearing Rosalie, Emmett, and Bella talking about Jasper's control—you almost left right there, but no—they kept talking. They said too much to just write off, and when they turned that corner to see you pale white pressed against the wall. They realized just how much you had heard, and its not like they could just make you forget—so there. That's how you found out the newest members of Juneau community were vampires, and that humans knowing their secret is not exactly accepted.

Despite Jasper being the topic of conversation that night, his control specifically, you almost forgot it entirely every time you saw him. Admittedly, Jasper was terrifying and in the right lighting, his scars were very visible even to a human. His eyes were often dark, and his expression stoic and tight. Most of the time, you tried to avoid him entirely, but being near him was exhilarating. It felt like gravity pressing against you, everything impossible, felt possible.

Now that left you in a precarious position, with an undeniable attraction to probably the most lethal Cullen.

Maybe that's a bit of an understatement, half the time you were in the same room with him—all you could think about was the possibility of undressing him. Images of your fingers dragging down his body, and it wasn't like you had to use your imagination—you had caught him changing once and that was it. All the fuel your mind needed to keep you interested, practically drooling at the thought.

"Darling?" You hmm, sitting up straight in your seat, you mentally curse yourself for letting your mind wander so far. Remember that whole thing about how you thought you were normal before, now you know you think differently because who else loses time like this? Who else could go from their home, all the way to their University; just thinking, just itching to think about him.

Once more, his eyes were in that in-between shade—not exactly amber, but not bright either like his unofficial siblings. You were shocked at the beginning of the semester when he walked into this class, because what was a vampire doing at the University of Southeast Alaska? No reason, but Jasper must had his because it takes a real psychopath to spend their time in an Animal Physiology class. Yet Jasper fit right in, and you have to admit the company is much nicer than others might think.

However, it was also incredibly distracting and in some distasteful ways, you spent the better half of class time enamored by him. His thick southern drawl, the way his blonde curls moved when he spoke, but especially with his hands. God, what else can those hands do? Per usual though, you feel warmth spread to your cheeks and look at your hands, you really need to get a handle on yourself if you plan on passing this class.

"Yes?" You ask, practically cursing the very ground you walk as you pretend to scribble down some notes on the cellular makeup of artic mammals—only it wasn't information the professor was saying, but rather verbatim notes of the last line you wrote. In fact, it is the same thing you've written at least ten times on the paper, but you just couldn't help your wandering mind.

"Class ended five minutes ago..." You perk, eyes widening as you look around the room and see that no one else is here. Just you... slowly, your eyes turn to Jasper. And him. Just you and him.

Perhaps his words shouldn’t have affected your demeanor, or maybe it had more to do with being alone with him, but something inside you snapped. Not only did you clearly feel an urge to take his face in between your palms and kiss him—you also had the inherent urge to bury your face into your arms and hope you got sucked away.

“Fantastic…” You kind of murmur into your skin, before sitting up with a sharp inhale and glancing over at the smirking Texan. His accent always seemed so out of place in Alaska, his honey like drawl always stood out when he spoke. It’s what got your attention in the first place, you couldn’t help yourself when you heard it.

You shut your notebook, sliding it into your bag with your laptop and pens—zipping it before Jasper tossed it over his shoulder. This was the routine, he showed up and you spent more than half of class imagining a million different ways you could take him on the desk.

Was that wrong? You hardly think it’s a good thing, but when you glance over at him. The way he held open your doors, and always close enough to catch you if your feet bumped each other. How could you not have those kinds of thoughts?

“Carlisle and Esme are still asking when you’re coming over again?” You hmm, before looking forward again—processing what he said, it just always takes a second.

“Oh yeah, we can head there now. I don’t have anything to do today.” If you weren’t too busy trying to ignore the throb of your chest, you would have seen the smile. The one that Jasper only reserved for you.

“Well then, after you…” Jasper holds open the door, letting you pass before leading you towards his car.

The Cullens were happy when you came around, Alice had told Jasper that he’d find someone eventually. She knew you were coming, but no one knew the effect it would have on him. The way he seemed to control himself, he didn’t feel like a runaway train anymore. The way Jasper seemed to smile more often, especially when he spoke of you.

“Y/N!” Esme exclaims as you enter the Cullen home, embracing you close as she smiles brightly. She always seemed so excited to see you, more than the others—what you didn’t know, was she had wished more than anything for Jasper to have someone. They all had their person, and well, finding you just fit into the puzzle so well. “Oh it’s so good to see you.”

You follow after her, Jasper watching as you go before heading into the living room. While he knew you’d be preoccupied for the time being, he couldn’t help, but sit in a spot where he could see you.

Today you seemed extra beautiful, not just beautiful—ravishing. You weren’t doing anything different, but something about the way you were looking at him earlier. If he were human, his heart would have been racing and his breath caught up.

What did you look like naked? The thought caught him off guard, it piqued his interest as he admired you from afar. Jasper did his best to not rush into things, to let you take the lead when it came to your relationship.

Did you have any birthmarks? He wondered how long it would take to count every freckle and mark upon your skin, if he could kiss each and every one. He’d even been in the room with you before, when you decided to stay over and you changed into some of his clothes. But still, he couldn’t bring himself to look.

You could feel his eyes on you, even from across the room. Even as Esme spoke to you so earnestly about something, you glanced over.

Jasper seemed to be looking at you, but also into you—you could feel the intensity. The sensation of him, again thoughts from class came to mind.

What would it feel like to be between a wall and his body? You purse your lips, trying not to linger on the thought—but they seem to always come in twos. And if you were, what would he do? God you wanted to know so bad… To feel what it felt like to be under him, pleading with him to take you right there.

“That’s it!” Jasper moves quickly as Edward appears at the bottom of the stairs, “You two need to go!” It wasn’t angry, but Jasper was at your side.

“Edward?! What’s wrong?”

“These two! They need to go, I can’t take another minute of them having mind sex.”

Your eyes widen, looking over at Jasper who seems to be looking everywhere except at you.

“You could just—not read our minds?” Edward shakes his head at your assertion, pushing you both towards the door.

“Nope. Your thoughts are too loud to just ignore.”

“I-” Edward gives a final shove out the door, as you bump into Jasper. Feeling his hand brace against your waist, steadying you as the mind reader gives a smile.

“Go to their house. And, think whatever thoughts you want. Just not here.” The door shuts and you look over at Jasper, then away as quickly as possible. Cheeks flushed warm.

Perhaps you should have saw that coming, Edward practically avoided you like a plague when you were over.

“So mind sex, huh?” You groan, glancing up at Jasper—the playfulness of his tone suppressing the obvious curiosity you note in his eyes.

“It takes two…” His smile broadens as he unlocks the car door, “Two people.”

.

.

.

“Whatever you say, darlin’…”

[killerpancakeburger]

Dating Soap HCS: (Combatant!Reader)

A/N: Shoving in there all the thoughts I've had about him and couldn't squeeze into my current fic ideas.

When I say Combatant!Reader, I mean they can fight/kill/use a gun but aren't part of the Task Force nor a soldier.

SFW:

Two words: power couple. You guys could take on the world if you wanted, so good for the world that you’re part of the good guys.

Soap is one of those freaks who’s out of bed by 6 a.m on his days off and starts the day with a jog. He can’t help it, he’s got energy to spare and is addicted to the endorphin he gets from it. Before meeting him you’d have said that a partner up so early was a pain; but how could you be mad at him when he takes such care to not wake you up, and has coffee and a mouth-watering breakfast ready when you emerge? You enter the kitchen where he rewards you with the luscious view of his sculpted body covered in sweat, having already shed his shirt, then sneaks an arm around your shoulders to press an adoring kiss against your temple, along with a “G’morning, Bonnie.” before heading to the shower.

Sometimes you show up unannounced on base - well not completely unannounced cause you’d get shot -, barge into the sparring room like you own the place - and considering the company you keep, you might as well -, and hit all its occupants with a “What’s up losers?”. Before anyone else can react, Soap’s already leaping over the ring’s ropes and running to you, hugging you with so much enthusiasm that your feet leave the ground. “Ye didnae say ye were comin’!” His voice booms with unadulterated joy. “Yeah, that’s called a surprise MacTavish. Now let go of me, you stink.” He throws you a cocky, challenging smirk at that: “Make me.” His voice is way lower, intended for your ears only this time. The glint in his eyes, as he’s staring right into yours, is just as provocative as his smile. You retort with your own. “I could, but I would hate to humiliate you in front of the new recruits, Sergeant.” Cue Ghost, joining you by walking like a civilised human being, and already sick of your flirting. “If you two are done makin’ a spectacle of yourselves, we could have a smoke outside.” There’s no real heat to his words though.

During some evenings at the base when Ghost snuck up God only knows where, Soap, Gaz and you compete to see who can do the best impression of the Lieutenant. Soap’s in the lead with the advantage to be the one having exchanged the most words with Simon, but you’re confident you can turn it around.

Will touch you all the fucking time (except on missions), whether it’s an arm around your shoulder, or your waist, or a hand in the back pocket of your pants, or holding your hand. Will restrain himself if you’re against it but if he can’t cuddle in private he will be sad.

No PDA on missions, but he will definitely flirt over coms. You’re both skilled enough that you can afford to fuck around a bit while still doing your job expertly.

Talking about flirting, he is smooth… until the other person reciprocates. Then he needs a moment to get back in the saddle after short-circuiting. 

Fervently loyal. If someone comes onto him, he will reject them frankly. And if they dare to bad-mouth you, they’re getting an earful from him.

The rare fights you have are intense but brief. He always wants to apologise as soon as possible afterwards but he gives you your space if you need it. 

You patch each other up after missions. One day you pore over each other’s scars during a lazy morning in bed, asking how the other got them.

He loooves seeing you put assholes in their place. He’s so fucking proud and aroused. Tend to snap at them faster than you though. And if you’re not in the mood to fight, he will gladly take over. “You know I can fight. Pleaaase let me fight”

Your #1 supporter. Will Smith showing off his wife.meme. He admires you a lot. Not as much as Ghost, sure, but that’s still a lot. If you wanna try new things, especially thrills inducing ones like canyoning or bungee jumping, or push back your own limits in the gym or in combat prowess, he’s always down and so, so enthusiastic. First because he’s so thrilled to share these with you, and second because he relishes in seeing you become a better version of yourself and/or the person you wanna be.

He’s proud of his job and will rant about it for hours if you ask about it. Especially explosions. Your idea of a romantic evening is taking in the sunset with a couple of explosions fireworks. 

He’s a freaking sunshine and sometimes the light feels blinding. You worry you’re bringing him down. He has such an optimistic outlook on life, and you… simply don’t. You also fear that one day he realises he’s too good for you, whether it’s in terms of looks, personality, morals, or mental resilience… he’s always quick to appease your worries though. 

Not getting along with the TF would be a deal breaker. Not that he’s expecting you to become BFF with Ghost or anything, that role is already taken by him

Will not hesitate to use his sad puppy eyes on you. Or even pout. To get what he wants.

He demands a kiss for good luck before every mission, a bit lOUDLY, which makes Ghost rolls his eyes and Gaz makes gagging sounds. Price is just like "Lord Give Me Patience".

NSFW:

Don’t be afraid to (wo)manhandle him: pulling his hair, slamming him against a wall, grabbing his jaw… that will make him moan more often than not. 

Call him a good/pretty boy, praise him, tease him, make him beg… He will tease back to challenge you but it just means you should keep going.

He’s a good soldier, he follows orders well. Do with that what you will.

Endless stamina. Will wear you out first every time.

Gets off when he gets you off.

Did I mention that he’s terribly competitive? Will ask you what’s the highest number of orgasms you had in one night and will immediately try to beat that record. 

If he doesn't make you laugh at least once during the do, he has FailedTM 😔

[rea-grimm]

Sleep protector Crocodile

You had a big challenge ahead of you. You loved surfing, and you loved sandboarding even more. You felt like it was a sport made for you. You didn't need good wind or waves. All you needed was a desert with dunes you could ride. 

You were so good at what you did that you were among the top of the best and even had the opportunity to participate in the Sandboard World Cup. You were so happy about it that you couldn't sleep for the first few days. 

Your enthusiasm didn't last long, however, as you had a bad accident during the competition and woke up without part of your leg. You were devastated. You felt like it was the end of you. 

You couldn't imagine life without a leg or even a prosthetic leg. What about racing? You didn't want to give it up, but you didn't have many options. 

You wanted to get back on your feet as fast as you could, but it wasn't as easy as you imagined. You could move with the prosthesis, but what you couldn't handle was the phantom pain. 

It happened at night, or when you were at rest, when you thought you could feel your leg again. That it itched and you wanted to scratch it and then you realised that wasn't possible. The spot then started to hurt, as if the limb was still there. 

This led to insomnia, where you just lay there at night staring at the ceiling. Quite often, you found that you were keeping yourself awake mostly on energy drinks, and when you got tired, you dreamt of sand. Giant dunes that were dangerous and swallowed up your opponents and you. 

Very often, your lost foot began to sink into the sand. It hurt like hell, and the sand slowly began to bury you alive. You were drowning in sand and you couldn't get out. You felt like the pressure of your dreams was pushing you down in real life. Or was it the other way around? You weren't even sure anymore. 

What you were sure of was that if you didn't do something about it soon, you'd be so tired you might as well forget the whole competition. That's why you turned to magic for help. 

You found the best psychic in the area on the internet and decided to go to her for help. Sure, you could always try pills or other meds, but you were never one for the ordinary stuff.

Plus, this sounded a lot more interesting than some pills where just reading the package insert would put you to sleep. No, you wanted something unusual and out of the ordinary. Something like your favourite sport. 

To your surprise, the psychic you'd found was in a nearby casino, which was humorously shaped like a pyramid, with a golden crocodile with a banana on its head. This was actually your overall first visit to the casino in question, as you may have been a gambler with a life, but not someone who would seek out slot machines and other games of chance. 

You had no trouble finding her corner, which looked like a tent or the entrance to a marquee. Unsurprisingly, the psychic was already expecting you. You got the impression she was telling everyone who came to her for effect. 

What you didn't expect, however, was that she had guessed the exact reason you had decided to seek her help. At that exact moment, all humour passed over you and you believed she knew how to help you. 

The psychic took you inside her tent, where she first performed a palm reading and laid out the cards that told her how best to help you with your problem. 

She stood up and left you alone for a moment. You got the impression she was looking for something. Moments later she returned with a teddy bear that looked very unusual at first glance. 

It was a sandy and black teddy bear that was wearing an orange and black plaid vest and had a long black coat over its shoulders. But what caught your attention the most was the scar that stretched from one cheek to the other, a golden hook for one paw and a long crocodile tail. 

"Teddy bear? And this one is supposed to help me how?" You didn't understand and began to question her again. She frowned at you and uttered that if you didn't want it, it was your fault. 

You looked at the teddy bear once more and for some unknown reason, you got a chill down your spine. You finally took the teddy bear. You thanked her and were about to leave when the psychic stopped you with a warning. You weren't allowed to let him out of the cage, whatever that meant. 

Since you took the bear home, your sleeping patterns have improved many times over. Your insomnia had evaporated and instead, you slept like a log all night and into the morning. 

However, you woke up with sand in your bed with no idea how it got there. Of course, ever since you got your teddy bear, you've dreamed about the desert and sand in general very often. It didn't even have to be sand, sandboarding or anything like that. 

It also happened that the sand in the dream was much finer. It caressed your lost leg and warmed you up nicely. It was a kind of pleasant massage that made the pain go away. 

You've also often seen out of the corner of your eye a very tall man with black hair and a long coat that reminded you of the one the bear wore. 

If something startled you or something strange happened to you, you even heard the kind of laughter that you used to hear in your dreams. And in the same way, you woke up in the morning and your room smelled of cigar smoke even though you were a non-smoker and didn't even own cigars. But all these things reminded you of the man you saw out of the corner of your eye and whose voice you heard in your dreams. 

The sandboarding competition was the very next day and you felt that you had done everything you needed to do. Despite all that, you felt that it wasn't all. That it could have been done better.

You went to bed with these thoughts and worried that your thoughts would keep you up all night. Fortunately, that didn't happen and you fell asleep as quickly as you always did. 

In your dream, you were in the middle of the desert, not a cloud in the sky and no water or civilization in sight. The only thing you had with you was your trusty board that you hopped on and decided to ride down the dune. 

But the sand began to move as if it were alive under your board, pulling you in an unknown direction until you reached the rocks and the cave at the same time. However, the entrance to the cave in question was blocked by bars. 

You were already thinking of taking a different route when you heard that iconic laugh again and your eyes glittered in the darkness of the cave.

"It took you quite a while. I have a feeling you wouldn't have found your way here if I hadn't helped," the voice spoke and you saw something, or rather someone, move in the darkness. Very soon whoever was in the darkness of the cell walked over to the bars and you could see who it was. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied, watching the man you had seen out of the corner of your eye for the last few days, who was close to you even when he was behind bars. 

"I know why you got me. Let me out and I'm sure all your dreams, no matter how big, will come true," he spoke in a convincing tone, a slight smug smile on his lips. 

You immediately remembered the warning the psychic had given you. That's also why you immediately dismissed him and wanted to move on. But even after you left, the sand made you come back. 

The man behind bars was very convincing and before you knew it, you decided to let him go. You had no idea how, but as soon as you touched the bars, they unlocked. 

The man came out of the cave and walked over to you. He towered over you, looking you over. You had the impression that he could see into the very core of your soul. He grinned and put a hook under your chin and made you look at him. 

"This is going to get interesting," he smiled smugly, and you could see that he was pleased with you. 

When you woke up that morning, your bed was full of sand. Even more than usual. So much that you felt like you were at the beach or a sandbox. 

You sat up in bed and immediately remembered that strange dream. At that moment, you thought you heard his distant laughter. 

You got out of bed, made your bed and were wondering what to make for breakfast when you realized that your teddy bear was missing. In that moment you could have turned the bedroom upside down, but it was as if the teddy had vanished off the face of the earth. 

However, you didn't have much time to look for it, as you had to get to the venue of the competition, about which you had mixed feelings. Once you got to the registration and picked up your number, everything went by almost at the speed of light and you didn't remember much of it.

But what stuck in your mind and mattered most was the race. You stood at the top of the dune and with a deep breath as you cleared your head and heard the sound of the siren you started down the dune. 

The start was calm and everything went according to your plan. In your head, you had prepared a precise procedure of which tricks to perform when and where. What you hadn't counted on was the fact that the sand under your board started to behave strangely. Like it had a will of its own.

At that point, all planning went by the wayside and all you had to rely on was improvisation and freestyle. You never knew exactly how the sand was going to move and more than once you ended up airborne. 

However, thanks to all this, you managed to pull off many more tricks than you had originally planned and your descent absolutely amazed the jury. From then on, there was also a buzz around the course about who had it in the bag. 

You were the clear winner and you could go and collect your prize. You got the gold medal along with an invitation to the next competition. With gifts from fans and medals, you stood on the podium for the press to take your picture. 

As you stood there, you thought you saw the man of your dreams in the crowd. Your eyes met for a moment before he grinned and was blown away like sand by the wind. As if it were a mirage or a fata morgana. 

As soon as you had a free hand and could move freely you made your way to the crowd, hoping to find your sandy protector. However, he was nowhere to be found, so you returned to your tent to rest and pack your things. There, to your surprise, your protector was sitting in your chair. 

"Crocodile," you said in surprise, a smile spreading across your face. You got the impression that he was really happy that you had won. You walked over and wanted to thank him. But he took a drag from his cigar before he sat down and stopped you. 

"Too many eyes here," he uttered, looking towards the door where footsteps could be heard. You looked to the door and then back at Crocodile, but he was as gone as sand and disappeared. Less than three seconds later, reporters walked in, wanting to interview you briefly. 

That evening, you collapsed on the couch. You didn't have the energy to walk all the way to your bedroom and you fell asleep within moments. Even in your dreams, you dreamt about the journalists and it seemed that they had become your new nightmare. But before that could happen, the sand blew them away.

The wind picked up, and though you hadn't seen your protector yet, you knew he was there. The wind made you feel cold and you rubbed your arms with your hands. 

Suddenly, a man's coat landed on your back like a blanket. At the same time, it was quite heavy, and you felt as if your knees would buckle under its weight. 

"Thanks for the help... and the coat," you smiled and turned back to where he was standing. Crocodile lit a cigarette and just laughed heartily at that. He was surprised that the mean old hag had given him to you in the first place. 

He finally looked at you before putting his hook around your waist and pulling you closer to him. He put his other hand behind your head and leaned in before kissing you. 

"I'm your protector..." he said as he pulled away slightly and looked into your eyes. "...I expect great things from you, and with my help, I'm sure you'll achieve them..." 

You woke up the next morning, and the first thought you had was that it had been quite a pleasant dream. It wasn't until you opened your eyes that you realized it wasn't just any dream. 

Instead of a blanket, you were covered by a heavy but comfortable coat, and on top of that, you weren't lying on your couch, but on someone else's. Crocodile had his arms around your waist and looked like he was sleeping too. You smiled contentedly before you laid your head on his chest again and closed your eyes.

Crocodile Masterlist

Sleep Protector Masterlist

For @sircrocodilesandflower

[k-nayee]

Liability....ASSEMBLE!! MARVEL

wc: 2.5k a/n: not me getting inspired by a 'If Avengers were real' meme/trend. Hope this make ya giggle a lil bit lol

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The warm glow from the ceiling lights bathed the common room of the Avengers compound in a cozy amber hue.

 A large screen took up one side with couches and recliners strewn with blankets and cushions taking the other—the rustle of popcorn bags, gentle clatter of soda cans on tables.

Vision had meticulously set everything up for the bi-monthly movie night; and it seems his insistence (in the name of strengthening team camaraderie) on these was paying off.

Sounds of muted conversations filled the area as the group decompressed from the chaos that often defined their lives.

Peter bounced in place as he settled himself onto the couch, his eyes gleaming with excitement. 

 “Aunt May actually let me come this time since I’ve been doing great in school,” he declared, his grin wide and unabashed.

Tony, lounging back with a glass of something suspiciously amber in color, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Kid if great means a C in physics, we need to talk.”

Peter’s face flushed slightly as he stammered, “H-hey! It’s an A-minus actually.”

Sam, lounging comfortably with a bowl of pretzels balanced on one knee, snorted and added, “Don’t worry Parker. We’ll make sure to remind you of that every time you pause the movie to point out what they got wrong.”

Peter looked even more embarrassed. “I only did that twice....” He weakly tried to defend himself causing the two men to laugh.

Sitting on another separate furniture was Thor.

“Enough of this school talk! Let me tell you of the time I faced the mighty frost giant of Jotunheim!” The God of Thunder waves a drink in the air as his booming voice echoes.

His unoccupied arm was draped across Loki’s shoulders, a silent reminder to the trickster god that mischief had its limits tonight.

Loki rolled his eyes with a scoff and folds his arms. “Must you always tell that story brother?” 

Vision, oblivious to the banter, hovered near the screen, adjusting the settings for optimal viewing quality.

Wanda sat near him, her fingers idly flicking through the air making small shapes out of glowing red energy, her expression relaxed.

Bucky, quiet as ever, had hesitantly settled into an armchair next to Steve. Though the wounds of the past had scarred them all, a fragile truce held in place.

Steve’s blue eyes softened as he caught Bucky’s glance, offering a subtle nod of reassurance.

Bruce approaches the ex-Winter Soldier and hands over a can of soda with a small smile of understanding as he sits next to Clint.

Bucky timidly accepts and nod in thanks, his shoulders slowly relaxing as he took in the scene—it felt almost normal.

Almost.

“I can’t BELIEVE THIS!” A rageful yell pierces the air causing all conversations to hush mid-sentence.

Eyes turn towards the source of interruption. And there, before them, stood a seething Natasha.

The color of her red locks were no match for the fire that were blazing within her eyes. 

Steve, ever the voice of security, gaze search hers. “What’s wrong Nat?”

Natasha crossed her arms. “Have any of you guys noticed anything weird happening lately?”

“Uh...” Peter awkwardly raised his hand almost as if for asking permission to speak. “Actually now that you mention it...people have been asking for pictures with me more than usual.”

Her lips press tightly together. “Exactly.”

Tension crackled in the room as the rest exchanged looks of confusion.

Tony groaned, leaning his head back with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “PR issues? What’s new?”

Natasha doesn’t spare him a glance. Instead she turned to face the ceiling.  “FRIDAY. Pull up the video.”

“Right away Agent Romanoff”the AI responded as the room’s lighting dimmed.

The movie setup on the large screen disappeared, replaced by a polished brightly colored advertisement.

Serene music played as heroic shots of the Avengers in action appeared: Tony soaring through the sky in his Iron Man suit, Steve deflecting a hail of bullets with his shield, Thor summoning thunder and the others saving civilians—all framed with flawless cinematic glory.

A voiceover, warm and honeyed, filled room. “The Avengers: Earth’s mightiest heroes, defenders of humanity.”

Tony leaned back and sighed in a mix of irritation and smugness. “A fan-made promo? Really Nat?”

The corners of Steve’s mouth quirked up in polite agreement, his eyes soft with an almost paternal pride. “It looks positive so far. Is there something we’re missing?”

“Just watch.” Natasha hisses, her expression still tense.

“But what happens when the protectors become the cause of destruction?”

The serene music cuts off abruptly—replaced by a hollow somber chord. The visuals were no longer heroic, no longer triumphant.

Instead footage showed of crumbling buildings, shattered streets, smoke billowing into a gray sky as civilians looked on in shock and despair.

A ripple of unease went through the team, some recognizing a few scenes from their latest mission.

Tony sat up straighter. “What the hell is this?!” he snarls, clearly unamused.

The montage continued; the aftermath of battles, people sifting through debris, the sound of distant sirens before the camera cut to a series of sidewalk interviews.

A man in a dark suit appeared—his expression stoic. “I watched the Hulk throw my car at a villain...and miss.”

Bruce shoulders hunched as a grimace flickered across his face.

Another clip showed a driver next to a half-destroyed Sedan, gesturing to it wildly “Captain America used my door as a shield. Now how da HELL am I supposed to drive this to work?!” 

Another shot showed an older woman wearing a pink fuzzy robe with slippers to match. “Five times...FIVE TIMES that lanky ass spider boy done come and tore up the block. This week alone! I finally paid off my car and now look at it!” Her lips curled as she took another sip from her glass of red wine.

Peter pales recognizing that exact neighborhood.

“Uh...is this the kind of press we usually get?” Wanda asked quietly, half-joking. Vision tilted his head. “Based on the tone I would say no.”

Loki’s delighted laughter erupted from the corner of the room. He tossed his head back, savoring their discomfort.

“Mortals and their misplaced faith,” he began, but his glee was cut short as the screen suddenly shifted to a familiar face: his.

The headline Special Edition: Loki Lawlessness Insurance Package appeared under a clip of him cackling maniacally mid-chaos.

His smile faltered into an offended scowl. “That’s not even my best angle,” he muttered.

A final gut-punching clip played out on the screen: a little girl—no more than six—standing amongst rubble as she clutched a half-burnt teddy bear.

Tears streaked her soot-covered face as she spoke into a reporter’s microphone. “The heroes who saved us...killed our home and puppy.”

The words echoed leaving a gaping silence in the room. But before anyone could break the quiet the screen flickered back to life.

This time there were no chaotic images or bleak interviews.

The camera steadied on a young woman standing outside a modest, unassuming office building.

Braided hair flawlessly styed into an updo, the well-fitted blazer and knee-length skirt that matched in color was simple yet elegant.

And her eyes...a beautiful shade of [eye color] so fierce with determination, yet her features were gentle—a disarming contrast that made the delivery all the more captivating.

Peter Parker’s eyes went wide as he nearly jumped from his seat. “____?!” the shock vibrated his voice.

Tony's eyes darted to the teenager. “Who's ____?”

“Hello my name is ____, founder of Avenge-Yer Life Back Insurance,” Your voice (the same one that narrated the video so far) was voice steady and clear.

The camera panned out a little more revealing the logo of your company posted on the building behind you.

Eyebrows shoot up as heads swivel almost in unison to fix their attention on Peter. The sophomore hero’s face pales and he shrinks under the sudden scrutiny.

 "I too, like so many others, once admired the Avengers." Fortunately for Peter your voice continues, reclaiming focus. "But admiration can turn when reality hits home."

 “Years ago an incident involving the Avengers changed everything for my family. We lost our business, our home, our livelihood—everything that made life stable. But instead of succumbing to that destruction, I decided to do something. To create a solution for others like us—those who were left to pick up the pieces after the Avengers saved the day.”

The scene now changed to you walking confidently through an aisle in the office building as views of smiling employees and distressed citizens signing documents played in the background. “At Avenge-Yer Life Back Insurance, we ensure that those who suffer from collateral damage have the means to rebuild. With proven evidence that a hero was present during the damage to your property or accident, we offer comprehensive coverage. From homes reduced to rubble to livelihoods disrupted overnight, we ensure that you’re not left in the aftermath without hope.”

“People have been exploiting it too,” Natasha said suddenly, her voice breaking through the tension. “They've been using loopholes—taking selfies with heroes and timing accidents to match the incidents. Spider-Man currently has the highest coverage rate.”

Peter’s head snapped up as his eyes widened in realization. “Wait...pictures?!” His voice cracked from a mixture of confusion and panic.

Steve’s voice cuts through. “Isn’t this bordering on defamation? Our honor’s at stake here. We could—”

Tony doesn’t let him finish, scoffing with a sharp laugh. “What do you think this is, the 1940s? Oh wait—my apologies, you probably did for a second there.”

Sam let out a laugh before quickly covering it with a cough in attempt to hide his amusement.

Steve just rolled his eyes but chose not to respond, his focus returning to the screen.

The advertisement ends with you looking directly into the camera.

You lean forward slightly, your eyes locking onto the viewer with compelling intensity.

“The Avengers. You know them as heroes who saved the world and lives of many...but how many have they destroyed?”

The room fell into a suffocating silence as the screen faded to black; the air heavy as everyone processed what they’d just seen.

Every eye shifted toward Peter whose face flushed pink.

He instinctively raise his hands in a gesture of surrender at the weight of their stares bearing down on him.

Bucky, who rarely spoke up unless necessary, was the first to break the silence. His voice was gruff, expression serious as he turned to Peter. “Explain kid.”

Peter’s mouth opened then shut before he took a shaky breath. “I...I think I know her...kind of,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

“She was a junior at Midtown High when I was a freshman. The only person who didn’t ignore me or—” he swallowed hard, “—bully me. Other than Ned. Defended me every chance she got...”

“I might’ve...”He glanced down, cheeks turning a deeper shade of red as he muttered, “...had a massive crush on her.” 

But Natasha’s sharp gaze caught everything. “What was that last part?”

Peter’s eyes widened and quickly rushed to speak over her. “But yeah! You know she disappeared halfway through the year before I ever worked up the courage to talk to her.”

“I didn’t understand why she left. I thought maybe she’d just moved or something. But now...” He lets out an almost wistful, forlorn sigh as his shoulder slightly slumped. “Now I see why.”

There was a pang of something unidentifiable in his voice—regret maybe, or sadness.

The Avengers exchanged looks, some expressions softening, others hardening with simmering frustration. 

Thor shifted on the sofa in displeasure.

“So mortals now speak ill of us for saving them?” his voice tinged with indignation. “Ungrateful wretches—should they not sing songs of our deeds as they did in my time?”

Wanda raises a brow. “Yes Thor, because their top priority is singing songs of your deeds while they fix their plumbing.” She says dryly.

Steve, however, straightened in his seat and interjected before the tension could boil over.

“Thor...they’re not entirely wrong.”

The God of Thunder frowned, his brow furrowing deeply. “Not wrong? Captain we fight for them. We bleed for them!”

“We also bulldoze their coffee shops,” Sam quipped under his breath. Thor shot him a sharp glare.

Ignoring the comment Steve continues. “Think about it: To us it’s a mission—we go into battle, we do what we have to, and then...we leave.”

Tony raised a hand like he was in a classroom. “Uh yeah because that’s what heroes do. You’re welcome civilians.”

Steve exhaled heavily but didn’t look his way. “We leave. But they stay. It’s their homes, their streets, their lives that got caught in the middle. They’re the ones who have to stay and rebuild.”

The room quieted. For a moment, it seemed like the team might actually be absorbing the gravity of the situation.

Clint snorted. “Maybe we should hand out gift cards after every mission.”

Steve couldn’t help the twitch of his lips from that. “My point is they didn’t ask for these battles, yet they got them anyway. It’s not ungrateful to ask why it happens or how it can be prevented.”

Thor looked taken aback, caught somewhere between confusion and frustration. “But we are protectors! Not destroyers.”

Steve gave a small nod but didn’t back down. “I know that, we know that. But to them it’s not that simple. They don’t see us cleaning up the mess—they only see the rubble we leave behind.”

The tension in the room was thick as the unspoken truth settled over them like a heavy weight.

 “Okay!” Tony pushed himself up from the armchair with a flourish, setting down his glass a bit too forcefully. “That was a nice guilt-trip speech n all...but seriously? Accidents happen, it's inevitable. We risk our asses day in and day out—and now they’re trying to cancel me over an insurance company I didn’t even create? I’ll be damned!”

Without waiting for a response Tony makes his way out the room.

Vision, who had been observing quietly, head tilts as he calls out, “What do you plan to do then, Tony?”

“To fix this. First thing in the morning.” The voice of Iron Man echoed back sharp with resolve.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

Anticipation hummed through the common room like a live wire.

The Avengers had gathered once more—some leaning against the walls while others paced or fidgeted with pent-up energy.

One thing for sure, they all were filled with curiosity and mild apprehension as they waited.

The door suddenly swished open and in strolled Tony Stark with a face-splitting grin.

“Well?” Natasha’s voice cut through the buzz. Her eyes narrow, finding the billionaire cat-like smile unassuring. “Did you fix it?”

Tony’s smile grew wider as he clapped his hands together. “Even better. Pull it up!”

At his words, FRIDAY makes a holographic screen appear behind him, displaying a high-resolution image: you were standing next to Tony, a bright smile on your face as you shook his hand.

In the picture Tony was handing over an oversized check boring the Stark Industries logo with a number impossible to miss—$450 million.

The room erupted with a cacophony of reactions—exclamations, groans, and even a low whistle from Sam.

Natasha’s eyes darkened with fury as she whirled towards Tony.

“What happened to fixing it?!” she snapped, venom in her voice.

Tony raised his hands in mock surrender, the grin never faltering. “I know, I know—Tony You’re a genius! How did this go sideways?’ Well turns out she one hell of a talker. That’s for damn sure.”

[runnning-outof-time]

I’m Not Gonna Leave You | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @rangerelik

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N)'s still having trouble with getting past her husband's injuries. Tommy assures his wife that he's not planning on leaving any time soon.

Warnings: nightmare, Tommy’s season 3 injury

Word Count: 1872

A/N: bit of a shorter one here….it was fun trying to work the prompts into the story - I hope it all makes sense. The prompts are italicized. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) threw the door to the townhome open, her heart beating so loudly that it was all that she could hear. "Ada!" she called out as she began looking in the front rooms, "Ada where are you?" her panic increased with each second as she wondered if the ambulance had come already. She wasn't sure if she wanted it to have or not.

She got her answer when she walked further into the main hallway and found her husband and sister-in-law sitting at the bottom of the stairs. Ada was trying to keep Tommy engaged while Tommy was trying with all he could not to let his head lull back and his eyes shut. "Oh no," she gasped, rushing over to where they were. "Tommy...Tommy, what's happened?" she frantically searched for his hand, wanting to hold onto it.

"I don't know what happened, (Y/N). He came here like this," Ada answered, her voice shaky, "he...he said that he had a fractured skull, a concussion and internal bleeding, and that he couldn't see," she then rattled off what Tommy had told her when he'd asked her to drive him to the hospital. She decided to call him an ambulance instead.

"(Y/N)..." Tommy stumbled over his wife's name as he tried to get it out with what little energy he had left.

"Tommy? What, what is it?" she quickly turned her attention to him, holding onto his hand tighter.

"I...I love you. You and the children...they, they mean so mu...so..." he stammered out, squeezing his eyes together and opening them again in hopes that he'd see her beautiful face, but everything was still black.

"No, no...you're not doing this. You're not saying goodbye," (Y/N) began choking on her cries once she realized what he was doing.

"I need to...I need to sleep," he panted out before he finally let his head drop, his body losing its tension as his grip on her hand went limp.

"No!," (Y/N) screamed, a wail leaving her body as she grabbed onto her husband's jacket, trying anything she could to get him to come back to her.

"(Y/N)..." Ada's voice came from her side, calmer than she should have been at that moment, "(Y/N)..."

"No, he's..he's..." she choked on her words, still trying desperately to get Tommy to stay with her.

"Wake up, (Y/N)," she heard before she was shaken awake. She noticed that she was in her dark bedroom as she sat up, gasping for breaths while trying to figure out fact from fiction.

"Tommy," she panted, looking over at him as she tried to calm her breathing, "you're...you're here."

"I am, love...I'm here," he nodded, speaking in a calming voice as his eyes searched over her face, "come 'ere," he said to her then, opening his arms so that she could fall into them.

She tucked her face into the crook of his neck and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent and repeatedly telling herself that he was still alive. Her hand traveled up from his shoulder to the top of his head, feeling the scar that was left over from his surgery. Feeling it made her heart hurt, but it reminded her that he'd survived...that what had happened in her nightmare wasn't how things went down in real life.

"Another nightmare?" Tommy asked her after she seemed to have calmed down.

"Yeah," she whispered, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She finally felt like she could hold herself again. The shaking had calmed down and her mind wasn't running at a mile a minute.

She let go of him, sitting up straight in bed so that she could look at him. She studied his face for a few moments, as if she was committing it to memory, before she looked down at her lap.

"You ok?" Tommy broke the silence, watching her intently.

"I, uh..." (Y/N) trailed off, brushing her hair out of her face as she looked up again, "I'm going to go for a moment," she said then, moving the covers off of her body so that she could leave the bed. She was able to leave the room without being asked any questions, and that was something she was thankful for.

She found herself on the chaise lounge in her private study after checking to make sure that her children were still sleeping soundly. She stared at the ceiling as she laid back on the lounge, trying to focus on the sound of the crackling fire that one of the maids had just made for her. Trying to think of anything other than what she'd just gone through.

These nightmares had been playing out ever since Tommy's incident and subsequent surgery happened four months ago. He was home now, taking it slow and trying to work his way back to the level he was at before, but (Y/N) still worried that the effects of his injuries would persist and return. The doctors hadn't said that there wasn't a chance of that happening. No matter how many times he assured her that she was ok, she still worried for him. He would always tell her that he was ok, right? But yet the scene that she walked into at Ada's townhome that evening was still burned into her mind.

Thankfully the ambulance did show up in real life...and that they were able to get Tommy to the hospital and to the help he needed before he died on the steps. But the worst always happened in her nightmares, and that was something that she kept to herself; no matter how realistic they seemed. She didn't want to burden others with the horror of them.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting in there before there was a knock on the door. It opened shortly after and Tommy stepped into the room, sleep prevalent in his mannerisms from across the room. His hair was disheveled and his trousers were haphazardly pulled up over his legs, the henley shirt that he usually wore to bed half tucked in and half let out. (Y/N) couldn't stop her heart from squeezing at the sight. Some days it was still a mystery; how she'd managed to find herself a man like him.

"You've been away for a while," he said to her once he was standing in front of the lounge.

"I lost track of time," she replied, glancing up at him before she brought her knees up to her chest and hugged onto her legs while staring out at the fire in front of her. Tommy watched her do this, silently feeling out the climate; trying to decide if he should stick around or leave her be.

He made his decision by sitting down on the now empty spot of the lounge. Him doing so blocked the fire from (Y/N)'s line of view, making her look at him instead. "What are your nightmares about?" he decided to jump right to the question, "they may not be so bad if you talk about them."

"I don't want to burden you with it," she answered him, resting her chin on her kneecaps as a frown formed on her face.

"You wouldn't be, love," he shook his head slightly, "you know about mine...it's only fair you tell me yours. You don't need to worry about scaring me off. I'm not going anywhere, and you can try as hard as you want, but there's nothing you can say that's going to make me love you any less," he assured her then, his eyes soft as he spoke.

(Y/N) sucked in a deep breath after hearing Tommy's statement. She thought about all of the times throughout their relationship where he'd been the one needing to be woken up due to his nightmares. (Y/N) would sit up with him after each and every time; talking through what he'd experienced so that he'd get some clarity from the terrors he'd just gone through.

"They're always of the night that I found you at Ada's house...but you never make it long enough for the ambulance to arrive," she detailed the events of her nightmares, starting to get choked up just from thinking about them. Tommy furrowed his eyebrows as he listened to what she had to say. It was obvious that he was thinking over what she was telling him; putting the pieces together in his mind so that he'd have a thought out response for her when she was finished talking. She continued after taking another deep breath, "they make me think about the worst case scenario...about how things could have been had I lost you that night. And they make me think of how things could be if anything comes up as a result of your injuries."

"Nothing's gonna happen to me, (Y/N)," he assured her, his eyes locked onto hers as he spoke, "I'm not gonna leave you."

"We don't know that for certain. The doctor's said they couldn't rule out the possibility of there being lasting effects from these injuries...or the possibility of something happening to you after the fact," she rattled off her biggest fears, her mind being transported to that harrowing conversation they had with his team of doctors before he was discharged from the hospital.

"I'm going to try my damnedest not to let it happen," he told her, speaking with the utmost confidence. (Y/N) offered him a shaky smile in response. She wanted so bad to take his promise and let it override all of her worries, but no matter how hard she tried, that nagging voice in the back of her mind kept telling her to think the worst. "Hey...come 'ere," he said to her, realizing that she was at war with herself inside her mind again.

(Y/N) listened to him, scooting over on the lounge so that she could fall into his arms for the second time that night. She exhaled the breath she'd been holding as she allowed him to hold her tightly against him. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of her chest now.

"I'm not gonna leave you, (Y/N), ok?" he mumbled into her hair after some time had passed. (Y/N) finally lifted her head from his chest so that she could look at him again. Their eyes met and she instantly felt like all of her fears and worries were miles away. The slightest smile formed on her face as she nodded her head, showing him that she'd heard what he said and that she was going to hold onto that statement with all she could.

Tommy smiled softly at her, happy that she seemed more relaxed now than she did when they'd both been woken up by her nightmare. He leaned in and kissed her then, feeling her smile grow the second his lips met hers.

Tomorrow surely had another set of challenges coming with it, but (Y/N) wasn't going to worry about that now because, at least for tonight, things were ok.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[yourlocaltreesimp]

The First to be Forsaken

been in the works for a while!! This was actually a request that got deleted.

So to the anon who requested a reader who was cursed by Hylia like Eda in the owl house, this is for you!

tw: chronic illness, death

۵♡۵

The ache in your hands never lessened and the maring cracks in your skin never healed. It made for a rather ugly sight, all considered. The creeping vine-like scars showing in rather gorey details the tainted flesh.

No medical salve nor healing spell could rid you of the malice that poisoned your blood. And according to the words of the fairies themselves, it’s latched to your very soul. It festers, feeding off of your energy until you’ll be left as a husk. A puppet with no one to pull its strings.

It’s not pleasant knowing you’re going to die, but it’s less so knowing that no matter how often you pray to the goddess it will not be fixed. The divine never needed to give reason for why they shunned that which gives them power. Still, the chain did what they could, and for that you had many thanks.

Wild always had hearty food to replace the energy stolen from you, Legend let you wear whatever charmed jewellery you wanted, Time would never let you take night shifts, Warriors would carry you on the days you were too fragile to walk, Twilight doubled as a bed and his pelt as a blanket, Four made braces for your brittle joints, Hyrule was always testing different mixes in hopes that one might lessen your pain, Sky would hold your hand and talk to you on the days you could walk to make sure that you had something to distract from the crying of your nerves, even Wind spared some of his grandmother’s soup in hopes that of it didn’t rid of pain, it might ease your distress. Your Heroes were funny like that, sacrificing whatever they had for anyone that needed it, no matter how precious their time or belongings are. Certainly not a coincidence they act this way. They’ve seen what’s become of you under the neglect of the gods. And you’ve seen the familiar ache in their eyes, the recognition of themselves within you.

The newest hero, First —well perhaps then he’s the oldest— was in many ways similar. He too would offer you stories and ballads from his time, forgotten by the time the next era rolled in. His words had a majesty that had the whole camp turn an ear to follow whatever tale he recalled. And by the time it came for you to lay your head and rest, your woes would be far off from the front of your mind.

He’d sweep you off your feet both in the figurative matter and the literal. With only the gentlest graze of your skin and only the sweetest words that could be uttered did he regard you. He did not hold you to a sense of pity, as was common among many who knew of you, but a genuine care. A care for you beyond measure that he’d shown on many occasions that he would stop at nothing to ensure that if you could not be comfortable, you could be content.

And currently you were, despite it being a bad day.

The champion watched over the cooking pot carefully and the traveller flicked through one of his journals, looking for a combination of herbs that might be of help to you. The two passed questions back and forth in an effort to find an overlap of medicinals they haven’t already tried.

You had Twi’s pelt, Sky’s sailcloth and First’s scarf to try and dull your cold flashes. You leaned back against the First hero as his arms warped around you and his face buried into your shoulder. You shiver as the next cold wave hits, wincing. The moment sits in silence before his arms around your abdomen gently pull you closer.

“I am sorry for what she did to you, My beloved.” His voice was deep and poetic as usual, the unwavering strength he displayed to the world melted to softness at your touch. Through the staticky emptiness that settled in your brain, the question stood, alone and without any real context nor answer.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow and you look over at where he rests his head on your shoulder. He draws a heavy breath, mumbling something into your layers of clothing.

“Hylia- all of this because of her vanity. I am sorry you fell victim.” There is a pain in his voice, a guilt he’s held for long. Shackles upon his wrists that he’s not willing to let himself be freed from. You suppose it is him where their united care for the world came from, no matter how unrequited. He’d bleed himself dry for the world if it meant that it’d be better.

“I don’t mind being here with you all” You hear the distant rowdy laughter of Wind and Twi, and you find it in yourself to bask in this one moment, “It’s certainly worth it. To me, at least.” He grumbles happily, kissing the nearest place of unscathed skin he can find, right below your jaw.

“I am glad, Dearest. But that-“ His voice wavers as another chill wracks your body. You can only find a wince as you try to block away the ever advancing chill.

“That is not what I meant. I- It’s because of her that you cannot find rest. It is she who whittled down your bones and set alight your nerves” You find nothing to say as you stare at him, urging for more. “She thought it was wrong for me to love you, to long for your care and yearn to hold your heart. So, she tainted y-“ You wish to hear his words. A muse longing to read the poets works, and yet-

The words grow fuzzy as the gloom within you swells, gnawing painfully at your bones. It seems that you had forgotten exactly how brittle you were. It was always hubris that killed heroes, wasn’t it? But that didn’t make sense. You were no hero. How could it be hubris if you never meant to taunt the gods. How could that be- you weren’t dying, are you?

They said you’d be ok.

You’ll be ok right?

Everything will be ok?

The pressure in your head doesn’t stop growing and your stomach hurls.

The sun is so bright.

It hurts.

She’s taking you again, isn’t she?

[danikamariewrites]

Hello! Could you write a story where Azriel and reader are ambushed, reader is hurt and Azriel has to care for her? Thank you! 🤗

You’re Okay

Azriel x reader

A/n: I live for soft Az

Warnings: blood and injuries

You hit the marble floor of the foyer of the River House hard. You clutch at your side, screaming out in pain. You and Azriel were supposed to be on a simple recon mission that took a nasty turn. It ended up being an ambush by lingering Hybern supporters.

The two of you put up a good fight, but one soldier got you in the side with a dagger coated in Fae Bane. It was a big gash too. You’re lucky Azriel had an energy left to winnow you back to Velaris.

Azriel clambered over to you, slipping in your blood a little. His face pales as he looked at the floor. There was far too much blood. Your wound wasn’t closing fast enough. Azriel pushes you to lay on your back and you let out a yelp. He sees your face has lost some color. You were crying, your face contorted in pain.

“Fuck,” Azriel lays his hands on your side to put pressure on the wound, “Its ok, we’re home now. RHYS! Just hold on baby, hold on.” The last thing you remember is laying a trembling hand on Azriel’s and then darkness.

When you open your eyes next the sun was just rising, casting a yellow glow throughout your bedroom. Azriel’s soft snores catch your attention. Your torso was still too sore to move so you turn your head toward him. He looked tired, like this was the first time he’d slept in days.

You tried to move into a comfortable position as quietly as you could. But, one shuffle against the sheets has Azriel shooting up, wide awake an alert. His shadows quickly swarm your body then return to their master.

He gives you a sad smile and cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You’re awake.” He whispers. You lay your hand over his, “I’m ok now Az. You can sleep.” He shakes his head, as if sleep was unnecessary. “How long was I out?” “Three days.” He says solemnly.

“Shit.” You go to sit up, but Azriel moves faster, gently making sure you stay flat. “You have stitches and I don’t want you to rip them.” You nod. “You must be starving, can I get you breakfast?” Your stomach growls at the mention of food. “That sounds nice.”

After he brought you breakfast in bed, Azriel spent all day and the rest of the week looking after you. He felt so bad that the mission went so wrong. He did everything from laundry to cooking to braiding your hair.

When your stitches had dissolved and the cut had fully closed a week later, you were a little sad you didn’t have an excuse for the two of you to sit in bed together. You got up to stretch and take a real bath.

As you wait for the tub to fill you run your hand over your smooth side. Madja told you it would leave a scar but you didn’t care, as long as it closed. You were just happy to be alive.

You sink into the hot water and let out a moan at your muscles relaxing. Azriel’s rapid knock on the door startles you. “Y/n? Can I come in?” “Yeah.” He enters giving you a pointed look. You smile up at him swishing the bubbles around the surface. “Will you get in with me?” You give him a fake pout to help sway his decision, like he could say no to you.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris

[tobecatherine]

Nightmare Comfort

Part 2

Okay ya'll, it's been a very long time since I've found a character that has made me want to write like this. Once I got to romancing Gale in the second act I was hooked. I've read so many good stories lately that I decided last night to write and see what comes out. Please keep in mind I am still only in act 2 of the game so I don't know the ending. So some details may not be accurate.

I will warn you, it's a little depressing to start but apparently it's something my brain needed to get out. I would probably label this as sad, mixed with fluff and if enough people want me to continue, there could be a spicy second part.

To set the scene, picture this: It's been a few months since you returned to Waterdeep with Gale after the end of your travels. Ever since slowing down your mind has been racked with guilt, feeling like you don't deserve comfort you start to push Gale away.

Please be kind:

First person

Gale/Reader

Word Count: 2332

Nightmares had, in some way, always had a hold on you. But once returning to Waterdeep with Gale, they seemed to have gotten worse. It started with small, repeated dreams of the battles you fought together that pushed you to do things that normally would have been out of character for you. Haunted by lives you couldn’t save, the people you had failed. They would slip into your dreams every few weeks, reminding you of where you had been. It didn’t matter how many you did save, in your mind, only the ones you failed mattered deep down.

When you would wake, for just a moment, you would think you were back there, in the heat of battle. But as your body regained its senses and you’d open your eyes, you’d see Gale’s slumbering face, listening to his soft breathing. Just having him so close would bring you back to reality. It made you glad that you didn’t move much in your sleep. The shame you felt over this, you couldn’t tell him. You knew he’d listen but you also knew he would want to fix it but in your own way, you felt like this is what you deserved. So you let the dead haunt your dreams, doing your best to hide your growing exhaustion.

As the nightmares became more frequent, it felt almost like it was becoming a ritual to wake up and just take in Gale’s sleeping face. You would spend hours just gazing and scanning every wrinkle, dimple, freckle and scar he had. The thought crossed your mind that if you did this long enough you could memorize the slope of his nose and the curve of his cupid's bow and maybe, just maybe, the picture perfect image of him in your mind could chase away the bad dreams. 

Tonight's nightmare was especially bad. You stood there, the day you thought you had lost Gale forever. The moments replaying in your mind as you watched him die, shedding tears over his body because you weren’t sure he could be brought back. While your party had found a way to revive the love of your life, the feelings of mourning were still all too real. When you awoke, you felt tears on your face and when you opened your eyes the comfort you sought wasn’t there.

Panic arose in your chest as you sat up quickly to see where he could be. Your eyes scanned the room, coming upon the open doors that lead to the balcony. There, in the pale moonlight, you could see Gale standing shirtless, leaning slightly against the door frame, his back to you as he gazed upon the stars. While you couldn’t see his face, his body language and the energy you felt from him, you could tell something was wrong.

Quietly you removed the blanket that covered you on the bed you shared. The air was warm on this night so you had gone to sleep with nothing on other than one of Gale’s tunics. Slowly you raised yourself off the bed, walking slowly up behind the tall striking man in front of you. As you reached him you wrapped your arms around his waist, your hands gently placed on his belly, leaning forward just enough to rest your forehead against his back. In automatic fashion Gale’s big hands rested over yours as a long sigh left his lungs.

You could feel the guilt in your throat coming up like bile, wanting nothing more than to tell him everything you had been feeling but you still couldn’t bear drowning him in your issues. You need to be strong, perfect, beautiful, all the things he tells you you are every day. If you couldn’t do that then you failed him too. So instead you pressed close into his back, tightening your arms around him, worried that at any minute he could just drift away into a cloud of smoke.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” He asked, ever so softly. So softly that you almost missed it but you had felt that familiar rumble from his chest as he spoke.

“You knew?” You asked. A lump in your throat forming as you try not to speak louder than a whisper. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wanted you to come to me… I… I knew something was wrong but I could tell that you wanted to handle it yourself so I didn’t push. You are beautiful beyond comparison but you are also stubborn and bullheaded. But the longer this has gone on My Love, your nightmares aren’t as silent as you think they are. It breaks my heart to see you struggling like this and I can’t just sit back and wait anymore,” He said, turning around to face you, still holding your hands. “I’m starting to think you don’t trust me.”

Gently he raises each of your hands to his lips, leaving small kisses along your knuckles before placing each one so you're holding him around his neck.. The hair on his face tickling your skin almost made you smile but you found yourself still looking at the floor, your heart at your feet. With another sigh, Gale laid one hand against your waist, keeping you close to him. The other carefully raises your head by the chin to look at him. Gale’s eyes look longingly into yours as his hand cups your cheek. 

For a moment you relax, tilting your face into his palm, feeling your body relax for just a moment. The heat from his hand felt comforting against your skin. 

“I’m sorry, none of this is your fault. You have done so much for me. I didn’t want to add another burden to your plate.” you say, lip quivering. “I must look pathetic… I am pathetic.” 

You watch as Gale’s brows furrow and the corners of his mouth point downward. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip to calm its quiver. His eyes search yours for understanding, recognition. “Where is the strong brave Druid that I fell in love with on the road?”

You can feel your gut clench, you didn’t have an answer, he was right, this wasn’t you. “I’m afraid I lost her,” You replied, your fingers twisting curls with the hair on the back of his neck. You were sure Gale was going to end this, ask you to leave because you weren’t the girl he fell in love with anymore. Tears flowed freely down your cheeks now. It felt like a dam had burst behind your eyes.

At the sight of this, Gale wrapped both arms around you, with one smooth motion he lifted you into his arms, carrying you back to bed. You were sure he would just lay you there and walk away but instead he sat on the bed, resting you carefully on his lap, cradling you in his arms.

“Every day you tell me how you love me, you reassure me about the choices we’ve made. Why won’t you let me do the same for you?” He asked softly. “You can’t keep bottling up all these feelings. I  don’t understand why you insist on suffering in silence but if that’s what you need then…. I want you to cry for as long as you need to and I will hold you for as long as you need me to.”

With his words, suddenly a flood of emotion burst forth. Pressed against his chest you let yourself sob, groan, and scream. Muffling yourself against his skin, you let out the rage and anxiety that pent up for the last few weeks. He was right, you shouldn’t have bottled this up, the heat in your chest made you feel like you were in the throat of a dragon.

It took a few minutes but you soon realized Gale was whispering in your ear. Straining your ears to hear the soft words he spoke. Between your sobs and frustration, you could hear him say, “I love you.” “my heart has never ached more for anyone than it does for you.” “I will be here for you always, you just have to let me in.”

For the first time you could admit the truth. “I’m scared,” You said, finally regaining control of your breathing.

“What are you scared of, my sweet?” Gale asked, now rocking the two of you back and forth.

“Of everything.” You said, taking deep long breaths now as you come down from the all too embarrassing tear filled journey you just took in Gales arms. Moving ever so slightly you rest your head on his shoulder, wishing your nose wasn’t now stuffy so you could breathe in his scent.

Softly you let your lips kiss the soft skin of his neck, admitting to yourself that this really had gone for too long. So, you started to let it all go.. There in Gale’s arms you tell him your whole story. You admit that before the whole venture started you had been alone for quite some time. It has made you view sharing things with others a burden because who could you trust when you were mostly alone. You spoke about those you failed and how they haunt your dreams but the biggest fear of all, was the fear of waking up and realizing Gale had only been a dream the whole time.

At the mention of himself, Gale chuckled. “You aren’t going to lose me. The road we traveled was a rough one, and even with everything I know, I would trade all the stars in the sky, all the air in my lungs, even all my books just to spend every last moment I live with you.”

Your eyebrows raise as he mentions his book collection. “You’re really serious,” you said, lifting your head to look at him with surprise. You search his face for anything other than the serious look he now wore.

“I don’t joke about my book collection sweetheart,” he said, gently placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t deserve you, I feel like all I’ve done is trick you.”

This time Gale placed his lips against yours. Slow and soft, his hand moving to rest on the back of your head, his fingers running through your hair. You’ve known Gale was one who showed his love more than he spoke about it, but he was good at both nonetheless. You could feel the pure emotion he put forth in his kiss. He took his time kissing each section of your face, wanting you to feel as loved and precious as he viewed you. When his lips found yours again it was like your heart was suddenly being filled with more love for this wizard than you ever thought possible.

Once your lungs ached for air you finally pulled away from his lips. Gathering your composer you finally explained the rest of your insecurities, you finally explained your fear of losing him and how it felt to feel your heart break into a million tiny pieces from the uncertainties of his survival that day.

“Every day I get with you feels like a dream… and when I sleep… the nightmares are my reality. Everything has just felt too good to be true. I’m sorry Gale… I know this side of me isn’t what you signed up for,” you tell him, your eyes meeting his.

Gale leaned forward, kissing your forehead for a long moment before pulling back and resting his own against yours so you could share each other's breath. “My love, when I asked you to marry me, I meant it. There is no one in this world or in the heavens that I have loved so fully and who has made me feel like just being me is good enough. I want to stay beside you, no matter what life brings. Be that nightmares, blissful dreams, fights, love making, every moment I get to spend with you makes me feel like the luckiest man alive.”

“I have never loved someone the way I love you,” you say in return. “That’s why it scares me so much. Now that all of that is behind us, it’s like my mind won’t just let me be. We’ve been through so much, we’ve shared so much. What if I ruin this?”

“I won’t let you,” he said simply. “I will just have to remind you how loved and cherished you are.” With that Gale tilted his head and caught your lips in another kiss. Gentle and sweet. You could feel love move through him, making your heart skip. “I have an idea that might help… maybe not right away but with time I think we can change the way your mind has tried to trick you.”

“I’d do just about anything to make this end and get to just live… here with you,” You say softly.

Sitting up straighter Gale smiled down at you in his arms. “Good, I love you… we’ll do this in two parts. First, every morning, I want you to tell me five things that make you happy. It doesn’t matter what they are or why they make you happy. You just need to remind yourself that there are plenty of things that bring you joy. Then second, I want you to tell me something we could do together that would make you feel better.”

Your cheeks flush from the first thought that crossed your mind when he said this. A small smile creeping onto your lips as your teeth start to lightly chew on your bottom lip. “Like making love under the stars like we used to?” You mumbled. Sex felt like it should be the farthest thing from your mind, but the stolen nights the two of you shared on the road were some of the most comforting and happy moments you remember having in your whole life. 

With a smirk and a chuckle Gale nodded. “That my love, I can provide.”

[hinamie]

so just know, I'm healing / even though it don't feel like it

insp

[flnpushy]

Couples Weekend

18+

Finally the couples weekend had arrived. Jenna had this planned for months. Jeanna and her fiancé Josh were going to be meeting best friends for a resort weekend. Jenna was a tall blonde 25 year old that worked in legal management. Josh was a Swedish 28 year old that worked in finance. The couple met in college a few years prior. Kay and Cody were to be joining them. Kay and Cody were newly married as of 8 months prior, and this was the first time they would be seeing each other since the wedding. The resort in question was a couples sanctuary in the Bahamas. A great place for drinks, fun, and lots of swimming. The resort was for couples only and was not only entertaining, but set up for being intimate. Jenna and Josh were looking forward to this. Josh had recently popped the question, and the couple was looking happily forward to spending a life together. With the wedding 7 months away things were exciting for the couple. 

Jenna and Josh boarded the plane from Miami and a few short hours later landed in the Bahamas. A short taxi ride had them finally at the resort. They checked and found their room. The room was lavish. Highly luxurious gold and red trimmings, a California king bed, and all amenities in room. Kay and Cody would be right next door upon arrival. The bathrooms of the two units were right next to each other, with a door separating the two couples suites for easier access to visit. Jeanna was looking so forward to seeing Kay and Cody. Jeanna had been friends with Kay since middle school, and the friends were always close. 

A few hour passed. To pass the time Josh and Jenna lounged out by the pool right out side of the room. The pool had a swim up bar and the water was about 5 feet deep around the bar. Plenty deep to fully swim up too. Kay and Cody had now arrived and saw the others at the swim up bar. The entered the water and sneakily approached Josh and Jenna from behind. Kay grabbed Jenna scarring her. 

“Oh my god girl!” Jeanna said excitingly. Turning around to see her beloved friend. Kay remained low in the water so Jeanna had to jump in the water to give her a hug. Josh also jumped in and greeted Cody. Jeanna noted something different upon hugging Kay, but thought nothing of it at the time. 

“Come on up and have a drink with us!” Jeanna said. 

Jeanna, Josh, And Cody didn’t hesitate. However Kay remained in the water. 

“Whats wrong? Afraid of a little Rum?” Jeanna asked. 

“Well its just I have a surprise for you.” Kay said. 

“Ummm Ok…..” Jeanna replied confused. 

Kay swam up to the bar stool and pulled herself up only to reveal….. her 8 month pregnant belly. 

“OH MY god!” Jeanna said. “Are you for real?” 

“The evidence speaks for itself!” Cody said. 

“How far along are you, and do you know what you are having?” Jeanna asked. 

“We are 8 months along, and we are having a girl.” Kay said excitedly. “I am due this time next month, and we are excited.” 

“I couldn’t be happier.” Cody said to Josh. “Life really comes into perspective when you have a baby on the way.” 

“I’d bet your excited.” Josh said. “Congratulations.” 

Josh and Jeanna hadn’t really thought about children yet. Jeanna was more convinced then Josh as she grew up with two younger siblings. Josh however was an only child, and a bit nervous about the whole kids topic. 

“Well you won’t be drinking then.” Jeanna said.

“Not this time around!” Kay said. “But it’s ok, it’s for a a dream come true.” 

The couples sat and talked until the sun stated to fade away. Jeanna as very curious about Kay and the pregnancy. She wanted to know all the details, and Kay had no issue explaining it all. Finally it was dark, and it was time to call it a night. The couples headed back to their neighboring rooms, and got ready for bed. 

Jeanna however was an excited ball of energy. 

“Oh my god Josh did you see that belly of hers?” Jeanna said excitedly “Like wow, so cute!” 

“Yeah baby, haha, sure did.” Josh said addressing her but not really wanting to get into this topic.

“I just think that would be amazing.” Jeanna said. “Uggh I want that.” 

“What?” Josh said. 

“I want that.” Jeanna repeated. 

“You want what?” Josh asked again.

“That belly! Ding dong! Jeanna yelped at Josh. “Id look soooooo cute, don’t you agree?” 

“Ummm yeah baby, so cute.” Josh said almost sounding annoyed.

“Wait, you don’t think so?” Jeanna asked.

“No baby, I think so, I…. Just….. Don’t think we are ready.” Josh said. “I know your excited for her, but….” 

“But what? We are getting married, why can’t we?” Jeanna said. 

“True baby.” Josh said as she crashed on the bed. 

Secretly deep down Josh was excited. He didn’t really want to be a dad yet, but he loved the idea of seeing his beautiful wife to be with a pregnant belly. The idea made him desire it…. Just then Jeanna and Josh heard a noise. It was coming from Kay and Codys room. 

“Hmmmm sounds like activity at the neighbors.” Jeanna said. 

Jeanna was getting ready for bed, but decided to skip the rest of the clothing and just wear a bra and panties. Josh was secretly eyeing her up. Wanting her so bad…. 

The noise happened again. It sounded like a moan. 

“Are they doing it?” Jeanna asked. “With a belly like that? Dang!” 

Jeanna could help herself, she went to the bathroom where the two rooms were separated by only a door. Jeanna could hear it all. Kay and Cody were going after it, and it was getting spicy. Excitedly Jeanna ran back into the room where Josh was playing a game on this phone, she anxiously called him over to the bathroom.

“OMG, you gotta hear this!” Jeanna said.

Josh followed her up to the door separating the rooms. Josh could clearly hear Cody and Kay going at it with some hot sex. 

“Jezzzz! They are into it!” Josh said. 

“Is the door locked?” Jeanna asked.

“I haven’t checked.” Josh replied. 

Jeanna reached up and pulled at the door handle, it was unlocked! 

“Omg!” Jeanna whispered. “We gotta take a closer look.” She said. 

Josh didn’t stop her, as he was now curious…. And a bit turned on. The couple opened the door slowly revealing a dark bathroom. The door from on their side was shut, so Josh and Jeanna slowly and quietly moved into Kay and Codys bathroom. The bathroom door had a slotted opening on the bottom for air flow. However this made things inside the room quite visible to Josh and Jeanna. Kay and Cody had left the lights on in the room. Josh and Jeanna moved closer to the door. They could now see Kay and Cody. Kay was naked leaning on the edge of the nightstand, her pregnant belly on full display. Cody was going hard on Kay from the back doggy-style. In the dim lighted bathroom, Jeanna turned and shockingly looked at Josh. She had a wild and shocked look on her face. Josh just chuckled a bit as Jeanna turned around and kept watching. Josh was now at a level of turned on he had never been before. He was hard and trying hard not to show it. He wanted what he saw…. Badly. 

As Jeanna looked on at the show through the bathroom door. Josh turned his attention elsewhere. In the dimly lit room Josh could still see Jeanna very well. He looked at her beautiful body in front of him. Her bra holding her beautiful breasts that he so desperately wanted to touch. Her long flowing hair that he so desperately wanted to play with….. He looked a bit lower. Her perfect butt in those tight panties. Oh Josh wanted more….. Josh could take it no longer. Hearing Kay moan, and seeing his girls beautiful body in front of him…. He had to act. 

Josh reached out… slowly, his hand reaching between Jeannas legs. He reached up and touched her, he could feel her sex as he rubbed his hand on it. He also could feel how wet she was.

“Oooooo!” Jeanna yelped. Quickly covering her mouth. Luckily Kay and Cody were way to into it to hear. 

Jeanna turned and faced Josh with a wild sexy look…. 

“Oh yeah baby?” She whispered. 

“Maybe?” Josh said.

“Do me BadBoy.” Jeanna said with a wild flair. 

The couple slowly backed out of the bathroom and closed the door. They rushed over to the bed. Jeanna ripped off her bra frantically and removed her panties. Josh removed his pants and underwear revealing his super hard dick. 

“Now Josh…… Make me like Kay.” Jeanna said. 

Josh pushed Jeanna into the bed. She fell back and Josh crawled towards her in bed. They frantically began kissing and touching each other. Soon Josh was touching Jeanna in more places, making her wet and ready to receive him. 

“Josh I need you inside me now!” Jeanna said. 

Jeanna pulled back her legs for Josh. Josh entered and began fulfilling her wish. There was no condom to speak of. Josh thrusted for several minutes as Jeanna moaned in pure pleasure.  Finally after a few minutes Josh could last no longer.

“Im gonna!” Josh said. 

“Do it Josh, Put a Baby in me!” Jeanna Yelled out. 

At that moment Josh released in sheer ecstasy. 

“Ahhh ohhh my god!” Josh moaned.

Josh felt Himself releasing into Jeanna, Filling her. 

Jeanna could feel the warmth of his fluids filling her. She was in pure ecstasy. 

Josh withdrew and the couple snuggled together still breathless from the sex. 

“Now baby, That better take.” Jeanna said grinning.

“I hope it does too.” Josh said. 

[mtkay13]

Affection running deep

(^ me pretending I title my illustrations) More info below! It's a bit personal and fandom related.

So WKX likes to bite. Let's be honest, from what I know, most priest "gong"'s do, so this is more a priest thing than a WKX thing--but if we look at TYK in a vacuum, we can still just say that it's a WKX thing (and, coincidentally, in Qi Ye, a Wuxi thing 🤭) It's pretty delightful, isn't it, to think that ZZS will permanently bear the scar of WKX's deep bite in his wrist... I'm going to use this piece as an opportunity to talk a bit about the permanent mark that TYK and QY have been carving into me for the past year and a half, then.

Funnily enough, although I started sketching and making a few illustrations here and there before, I consider that the infamous bite is my real "entry" in this fandom, when I made the animatic based on the scene in the audio drama. It's to this day my most viewed piece, and is sort of what made me... "known" as an artist in the fandom, I guess.

Although I've always devoted the most energy to personal projects, I'm no stranger to being a dedicated fan, even though this is my first real, "public" fandom experience. And honestly, personal and fandom projects combined, the animatic is the biggest, most ambitious work I had ever done so far for something not work-related. It was exhausting, and I almost succumbed to burnout after I finished it (just because, combined with work, it got too much). Ironically, it's the state I found myself in afterwards that made me enjoy rereading TYK in a way I never had before.

It's hard to say, whether I let TYK's fangs sink in my throat, or if I was the one to latch on and not let go ever since; but my life has certainly been changed by it.

I often forget about the bite scene; about the bite, in general. It's rarely ever one of the scenes that I think about spontaneously--and I rarely think about drawing the bite scar. Maybe because I've always thought it was a more typical scene? Maybe because on the surface I didn't resonate that much with it? And yet, as I'm going through really rough times right now, this new piece is what I chose to draw yesterday. A bit more than a year ago, when work felt like it was completely consuming me, this is the scene I chose to animate. I'm not sure there is a point in diving too deeply in this. Maybe, more than I would have assumed, I resonate with the desperation and hope that this scene carries. I'm glad I got here, in this fandom. It has had its very difficult moments, in many different ways, and I've discovered new sources of anxiety along the way--but at the same time, I've discovered many joys that I had never known before, and I think it's worth it. I'm grateful for those books to be in my life--grateful for Wen Kexing, for Zhou Zishu, and all the other characters, to be in my life. But of course, more than that, I'm incredibly grateful for the people I met, for the people who spend time with me, who cheer on me and let me cheer on them. Thanks everyone, for being there, and helping me form memories of better days that I can always look forward to.

I'm glad I'm here.

[ellephlox]

Embers and Ashes

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's not easy to keep a low profile when you've got the power to heal, but you've managed to carve out a home for yourself in Hell's Kitchen. By day you're an assistant at a literary agency, and by night you mend broken bones and bloody cuts. It's a double life that constantly forces you to question your morality, because the wounds you seem to magically heal don't vanish forever — they've got to eventually go somewhere.

But after you make the mistake of healing the wrong people, you become Daredevil’s next target, and suddenly your double life becomes far more tangled than you could ever have predicted.

Set post-S3. Slow burn Matt x Fem!Reader. Chapter one will be posted here on tumblr, but ensuing chapters will be uploaded to AO3. You can read Ch. 1 on AO3 here, if you'd prefer.

Warnings: Description of injuries and profanity.

Most normal people in the city dreamed of being an Avenger. 

You overheard them at work constantly, ever since it became increasingly commonplace for people to crop up with super-strength or freakishly accurate aim with a bow and arrow:

“I actually ran into Spider-Man this morning — the real Spider-Man! I begged him to sign my arm, obviously, because there was no paper around, and he actually did it! Look, right here. I'm going to get it tattooed after work.”

“Well, last night I had a dream that I was recruited by the Avengers. It was absolutely amazing, Debbie — Tony Stark wanted me to be his girlfriend! God, it was fantastic. He even let me try on his Iron Man suit.”

“Oh, I’d give anything to be enhanced. I’d want to be able to fly. Or teleport. Any power, really, if it could get me a one-way ticket to fighting with them.”

“But did you hear my friend got threatened by Daredevil the other night? That red horned suit is gone, though. He’s in that black suit from the days when we called him the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. I’d love to run into that guy — he’s so strange, isn’t he? Handsome, in a mysterious way.”

At this point in these types of conversations you always tried to tune them out. Their rosy idea of enhanced ignored the things that you saw whenever footage of the Avengers was shown on the evening news. After the battle in New York, they raved about Captain America’s strength, that magic hammer of Thor’s, and the way Dr. Bruce Banner metamorphosed from a man into a monstrous hero, as though it were the best thing in the world to have super-powered abilities.

But when you had watched that footage on the news, after the battle was over, all you saw was the blood. The bodies. The expressions on the Avengers’ faces, of the anguish and turmoil they had witnessed. Being enhanced was a curse, not a gift, and you came to resent the word itself — not for the political controversies it provoked, but for its connotation. In the mouths of anyone else, enhanced was a good thing. 

But you knew. 

As you held the temples of the man lying in front of you, his skin burnt severely from his fingers to his wrists, you knew. 

He writhed, his hands flopping like gasping fish. They were scorched as though in a paisley pattern, leathery and swollen. Second-degree, if not third-degree burns, you thought, as the man jerked away from the light emanating from your own hands, but you kept your grip steady. Slowly the skin began to return to its normal color — splotches fading like they were diluted, heaves of scars sinking back and reshaping as though they had never been there, the energy of his wounds transferring into your hands and through your bloodstream. 

You knew, better than anyone, that every gift had a price.

 

TWENTY-ONE HOURS LATER

It was snowing, yet your hands were blistering. 

The plows hadn’t come through yet, and there wasn’t much foot traffic on this side of Hell’s Kitchen, so the sidewalks were thick with snow. Despite your best efforts to hop in the few existing footprints, snow kept falling down into your boots. Your toes were numb, and your ears felt like they were about to get frostbite; you weren’t dressed for the weather. There hadn’t been time to grab a hat and thicker socks when you left your apartment, because you were more preoccupied with the searing burns that were popping like budding flowers on the palms of your hands. They weren't yet to the severity of the burns you had healed on Lynch's hands the previous night, but it was only a matter of time before they began to worsen. 

Only one more block. 

It was past midnight, and all you wanted was to be in bed, curled up with your pillows and quilted blanket, but just before falling asleep, you’d felt the skin tear open on your hand as though someone were holding a blowtorch to it. It was unnerving. You'd estimated another eight hours, until morning, before the energy you had taken from Lynch's wounds would make itself known.

Clearly I was wrong. You seethed with irritation at yourself and at the fact that Lynch had burned his hands in the first place as more snow collected in your boots. A warm pair of socks would be really, really nice right now.  

But situations like this came with the job, even if most people didn't realize it. Whenever people discovered you were able to heal — and they never truly knew it was you, because you were careful to keep your identity obscure — they assumed it was simple. As though you could just lay your hands on someone’s bleeding wound and it magically stitched itself back up. Poof, problem solved! Sort of like all those Avengers your coworkers persistently chatted about. Yeah, if only healing were as easy as doing a few fancy finger movements to open up a portal into another dimension. Doctor Strange doesn't know how good he has it.

Because fancy finger movements definitely wasn't how it worked for you. It wasn’t even close. 

You inhaled sharply as another burn made itself known, this time higher on your hand. A quick handful of snow against the welt soothed it slightly, but not much, and you picked up your pace down the street.  Your destination was an unassuming brick building, wedged between a hardware store and auto repair shop. LYNCH FUNERAL HOME AND CREMATORIUM, read the sign outside, underneath a layer of graffiti. It was one of your closest friends who owned the funeral home, and the previous day he'd sent you an emergency call for help, though you still hadn't heard the story of how he'd burned his hands in the first place. Not that it mattered much. You didn't ask questions very often; healing was your only responsibility. 

There was no one else on the street. There wasn't even much light, because most of the street lamps that weren’t burned out had been buried in a pale coating of frost. Your thoughts turned abruptly to the reports of the so-called vigilante Daredevil, who had reportedly been back on the streets lately. With what you had done in the past, and even with what you were doing now… well, you hoped you never crossed paths with him. Quiet streets like this always made you wonder if today was the day you’d run into him, but it had never happened. Sometimes you wondered if the media simply made him up as a fear tactic to keep crime off the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. 

You hurried inside the funeral home, searching for the only person who you knew would be up and about. Please, be here, please, please…

He was. “Grey,” the man at the desk said, surprise crossing his face when you burst into the crematorium. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Grey . Just like the word itself, it was ash on your tongue. It wasn’t your real name. Years ago it had been bestowed on you as a code name, a way to keep your identity impersonal from the people you worked with. But it stuck, and now you could count the number of people who knew your real name on one hand. 

“Emergency visit, Thato,” you said, showing him your hands. “I’m sorry. I thought I could manage it until tomorrow, at the very least, but—” You cringed as another burn blistered forth, erupting on the pad of your thumb. “Ow. Shit.”

Thato got to his feet, wincing in sympathy. “Never apologize for this. It’s not your fault.”

You shook your head. “I should be getting better. Improving… this . And I’m not.” It was true. For years, you had been at this same level. If you healed someone — which wasn’t really healing , if you were being technical; it was more like taking their injury and transferring it elsewhere — you could only hold onto it for a short amount of time. 

Option One was taking that energy from the injury and transplanting it onto someone else — typically, a corpse. You had a strict policy for yourself to never inflict a wound from someone else that you’d healed onto someone who didn’t receive the wound in the first place.

Option Two was just holding onto that energy until it began to manifest itself on you instead. And that was never pleasant. 

Case in point: the damn burns on my hands right now. 

You glanced at the door to the morgue. “Please tell me you’ve got bodies in for cremation?”

“As a matter of fact, one arrived tonight,” Thato said, and he put his hand gently on your back to steer you inside. “Let’s go.”

The morgue was cold. Goosebumps pricked up your arms. Thato worked quickly, and within a minute he was pulling out a storage drawer. A woman, her body pale and lifeless, slid out in front of you. 

Even when the bodies were dead, this was never easy.  You averted your eyes, opting instead to look at the ceiling, and placed your freezing hands on the sides of the dead woman’s head, against her temples. Gradually, after a minute, your hands began glowing — not the yellow glow of the man the newspapers called the Iron Fist, nor the red glow of that Avenger you’d seen on television, Wanda Maximoff. Instead, it was a pale slate color, as though smoke itself had become a source of light. It was this color that earned you your nickname. 

“Grey,” your brother had told you, lifting your chin up roughly to stare you down. 

He wasn’t really your brother, but he might as well have been. You’d known him as long as you could remember. Kane was the one who raised you, who had been with you since... for a long time. “Got it? Here with us, that’s what you’ll answer to.”

“But my name is—”

“No. When you’re with us, you don’t use your real name,” Kane said. Of course, just like your name wasn’t really Grey, his name wasn’t truly Kane. “You use Grey instead, okay? Grey Arztin, if anyone ever asks for a last name.” He handed you forged identification papers. 

“Why Arztin?” you asked, reading the name, and fumbling over the pronunciation of the word. 

“It means doctor, in German. Come with me. I have people for you to heal.”

“But I’m not very good at it.”

“Then you need to practice that ability. It’s going to be your greatest gift someday, Grey.”

The energy pulsed in your own temples as it transferred to the corpse, and slowly you began to feel it drain out of you. There was no comparable feeling to this moment, when the build-up of pain was finally relieved from your mental storage space — your cache, you liked to call it.  And, suddenly, burns just like the ones on your own hands bloomed across the white hands of the dead woman — raw, fiery welts, discolored in the center and streaking from her wrist bones to her fingertips. They were identical to the burns that had stretched across Lynch's hands the day before, down to the charred bit of skin just below the thumb knuckle. When the energy was gone, you dropped your hands, and the smoky glow faded.

The few burns that had already marked your own skin were still there, of course, because your healing abilities could never fix what had been done to your own body — yet another shortcoming of your power — but they wouldn’t get any worse. It was over. 

The corpse was rolled back into her drawer. The family would never know that her hands now bore severe burns that hadn’t been there at her time of death. She’d be cremated tomorrow, Thato assured you. It would be as though you had never even touched her. Guilt curled in your stomach at her desecrated hands. Maybe she had been a pianist. Those hands might have been held by someone else, once upon a time — a mother, a lover, a child. She could have used those hands to climb mountains or type out a novel on a laptop or serve plates of food at a restaurant. 

Now, because of you, they were mottled and burnt. 

“She’s dead,” Thato reminded you quietly, once you were outside of the morgue and back at the funeral home desk. “She’ll be burned anyway.”

“I know.” You played with the edge of the desk. “I just always feel bad. It feels like I’m… spitting on her memory, or something.”

“It’s a price you have to pay,” he agreed. “But it’s in exchange for the good you do, each time you use your skill. You even bore some of the price yourself.” He nodded at the burns scattered across your own hands. “I don’t like to see you feeling bad, Grey. Anything I can do?”

You smiled. “It's okay. You already helped me. Thanks, Thato. Really.” 

I don’t want to keep doing this, you wanted to add. I’ve had enough of all this. The healing, the transferring of the injuries and scars and bruises, the role I’ve played in Hell’s Kitchen. I’m done.

You wanted to tell him, so badly that it made your chest feel tight. Thato had been your friend for as long as you could remember. But if you told him, then your brother would find out, and if your brother found out…

Well, Kane wouldn’t be very pleased with you. He'd see it as a failure on your part, or worse, a betrayal. But it didn’t matter anyway, because you couldn’t leave the organization. Not after everything Kane had done for you, and especially not while you were the one thing that stood between him and death every night that he risked his life. 

You tightened your jacket around your shoulders before heading back out into the night, towards your apartment. You took your time; your earlier exhaustion was gone, and with your hands bandaged now, you were able to appreciate the falling snow as it amassed silently, insulating the streets from the sounds of the city beyond. 

But you might not have had such a leisurely walk back if you’d happened to tilt your head upwards and look at the roofs — if you had been able to hear the footsteps above as someone followed you in the shadows, if you had known the man they called the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen stalked you, having listened to every word of the conversation in the crematorium.

[mcflymemes]

ASK PROMPTS ABOUT THE PAST & REGRET *  requested by tatsunotsurugi

yesterday is gone.

you have to let go.

i never look back. it distracts from the now.

i just don't see why the past has to matter.

it's pointless to dwell on it, you know.

i don't know who you used to be.

memories are dangerous things.

the past is never where you think you left it.

i wish i could go back.

we all do things we desperately wish we could undo.

my past does not define me.

we can never go back again.

we were so intimate once upon a time i can't believe it now.

if we had met years ago, would you still have liked me?

scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.

the past beats inside me like a second heart.

looking back you do not find what you left behind.

no one saves us but ourselves.

no trouble ever got fixed late at night. midnight is for regrets.

i wish i knew you back then.

what's past is prologue.

i want everything back the way it was.

put your energy into today.

my scars remind me that i did, indeed, survive my deepest wounds.

that was... the dumbest thing i've ever done.

no one is rich enough to buy back his past.

are you still thinking about what happened?

there has to be something we can do to change it.

it's being here now that's important.

there's so much i wish i could change about what happened.

i'm a product of my past, but i don't have to be a prisoner of it.

my past is everything i failed to be.

i regret knowing you.

what's done is done.

it might have been.

you are the only person i'd like to say goodbye to when i die.

it made you stronger. i hope you know that.

i am worthy of a future.

me and you, we got more yesterday than anybody.

memory is a mirror that scandalously lies.

take it from me. if you hear the past speaking to you, feel it tugging up your back and running its fingers up your spine... the best thing to do, the only thing... is run.

if only. those must be the two saddest words in the world.

the past can't hurt you anymore, not unless you let it.

my yesterdays walk with me.

i loved you so much once.

i like who you are now.

i wish you'd just let go.

there's no future for me.

what do you regret most?

do you ever miss it?

there are so many things that i want so badly to tell you, but i just can't.

the past no longer holds you captive.

maybe in another life.

i hope you never have to think about anything as much as i think about you.

i never should have done that.

i'm trying to forget you. it's not easy.

you're just another story i can't tell anymore.

how many regrets do you have?

those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

you can learn from it... but you can't change it.