#like !! THEY gave each other these scars!! they are now connected FOR LIFE

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

I think Marcy would have a much healthier relationship with the scar on her chin vs. her scars on her chest and back. The scar on her chin was given to her by someone who loves her. By the one who saved her. It's a reminder of that. Now everytime she looks in the mirror, she smiles knowing she has her love engraved on her skin, a promise that they'll always be together, no matter distance or time.

[sunsets-and-crows]

Claws

Thinking about how excited Syus will be when he meets you in his human life, one where he doesn't have claws.

If Sylus’ claws were anything like the talons of other animals, sharp, tough and made from keratin, they’d probably lack the sensitivity of human skin right? Claws are built for strength and precision, not for fine-tuned sensations. In his dragon form: he could touch, sure, but never really feel. Everything would be dulled, fleeting, like wearing gloves or pressing your fingers against glass to touch a hand on the other side. Softness, heat, the delicate texture of skin - it would all be a vague pressure, a constant reminder that he could never hold anything delicate without ruining it.

But now, in his human life, it was as if the gods had handed him salvation wrapped in smooth skin and scarred knuckles. His hands - alive, real - were suddenly made for touch. Where his claws had been brutal precision, his fingers were reverence incarnate. The man is experiencing true touch for the first time, he's suddenly hyperaware of everything. The softness of your cheek? Heavenly. The silkiness of your hair? A revelation. The curve of your body beneath his hands? Enough to make him lose his damn mind., turning him feral.

And let’s not forget - this man would be obsessed with the contrast. Where his claws once tore through flesh and scales, his human hands now worship your body. He’d be almost weeping at how tenderly he can hold you, feeling the pulse beneath your skin, the heat radiating from you. Every little shiver, every sigh, every slight twitch beneath his touch would make his breath catch.

Sylus wouldn’t just touch you - he’d memorise you. Because after a lifetime of dull sensation, feeling you would be a kind of salvation. A reminder that he’s human now. That you’re real. And that, for the first time, he’s capable of experiencing you the way he’s always longed to. Like I'm sure he misses being a dragon right? That's his true form. But now he can touch you so much more intimately.

Sylus couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you - human hands, strong and scarred, yes, but without the claws that once kept him a world away. It was as if the universe were apologising, granting him this form and, with it, the ability to feel you. To touch without hesitation, without fear of breaking something so precious. And gods, you were precious.

When he first brushed the pad of his thumb across your cheek, he nearly lost himself, feeling the tell-tale sting of tears prickling his eyes. His breath stilled in his chest, his throat dry as he traced the curve of your face, his thumb brushing softly against your lower lip. He marveled at the way his hands could experience you, so different from the sensation in his past life. Your skin gave beneath his touch as though you’d been made of the finest silk, warm and pliant. His hands shook - this creature of power, reduced to something tender, vulnerable. The lump in his throat swelled as he traced the curve of your jaw, every nerve in his body alight with disbelief.

“You’re real,” he murmured, his voice frayed and raw. His crimson eyes wide with something vulnerable. For so long, he had dreamed of holding you without the fear of tearing you apart. And now here you were, soft and impossibly human, letting him touch you. He didn’t have to pull away, didn’t have to fear shredding you apart with an errant motion.

You stared at him, confusion flickering across your features as his thumb traced the curve of your cheek, lingering like he was committing you to memory. There was something in his eyes - softness, longing, love - that didn’t make sense. Not to you.

To Sylus, it was everything. Each motion of his fingers poured out a devotion you couldn’t recognise, couldn’t return. It wasn’t your fault; the memories that should have connected you to him - moments of fire and flight, lifetimes of love and loss - were lost, swallowed up by time or fate.

She doesn’t remember.

The realization tore at him every time you looked at him like this - like he was a stranger. A stranger with hands that shook as he touched you, as though afraid you might slip through his grasp. You were here, now, yet still out of reach. It didn’t stop him. Nothing would stop him.

He traced your face with reverence, his voice low, almost broken. “I’ll remind you,” he whispered, as if making a promise to himself. “Even if it takes a lifetime.”

The first time he braided your hair was seared into his memory with the same intensity as the sun scorching the horizon on the plains. He’d always admired your hair - how it shimmered like liquid in the light - but feeling it slip between his fingers was an entirely new kind of pleasure. It was silk spun into strands, each section gliding so smoothly that he paused often, distracted by the sensation. His large hands, which had once been tipped with razor-sharp talons, now worked with gentle precision, twisting and weaving each section of hair into something beautiful. It shimmered between them, the strands gliding so effortlessly that he forgot what he was doing half the time. His fingers lingered, threading and unthreading, so gentle you might’ve thought him afraid. He whispered things to himself as he worked - praises, almost prayers. Perfect.

But for all those soft touches, Sylus craved more. He had always been a creature of need, a being meant to hoard and devour desire and you were his most dangerous indulgence. And when he finally had you beneath him, bare and trembling, he felt that dangerous edge of hunger blur into a new kind of worship.

His hands explored you like they’d been made for it, each touch deliberate, almost reverent. His thick fingers dragged slowly over the slopes of your body, mapping every dip and curve, every inch of skin that drew a gasp from you. The sensation of your softness giving way to him was intoxicating - a pliant warmth he could lose himself in.

And when he pressed his fingers into you for the first time, he nearly groaned aloud at how you welcomed him. His breath hitched, a groan slipping unbidden from his lips as your body welcomed him. You were wet, silken, warm - a sensation so profound he swore his vision blurred. He flexed his thick fingers, feeling you pulse and cling to him as though you’d been made for this.

“Perfect,” he rasped, voice rough as gravel. He pressed his other palm flat against your hips, holding you still when you squirmed. His crimson gaze burned as he watched the way your body responded, the flush spreading down your chest, the gasps spilling from your lips. “I could do this forever,” he murmured, curling his fingers until he found that spot that had you arching beneath him. “Watch you come apart on my hands alone.”

Each moan and gasp he pulled from you ignited his own desire until he was no better than the humans he used to devour for the same crime. This was humanity, this was what feeling truly was.

His mind spun with the contrast - once, those hands had been weapons, tools for destruction. But now, they coaxed pleasure from you with an ease that made his heart race. It drove him mad, the privilege of it. How you let him hold you, mark you, ruin you - and yet, there you were, looking at him like he’d placed the stars in the sky. Sylus gripped you tighter, palms sliding possessively over your thighs, your hips, the curves that had been haunting him since that first, fateful touch.

In this life, Sylus didn’t need his claws to leave you ruined. He had you, undone and gasping, by the sheer force of his hands alone. He curled his fingers inside you, finding the spot that had you throwing your head back and bucking up to press his fingers deeper inside you. As he drank in the sound of your whimpers and the flush blooming across your chest, Sylus finally understood the truth:

You were his treasure - one he could touch, hold, and break apart as many times as he liked. And gods, he planned to.

➽──────────────────────────────────❥

One day, I might be able to write something about a different LI. Today is not that day. This started as pure horny thoughts about Sylus' hands and now I don't know how to behave.

[witchesverse]

life & death

pairing: agathario x reader

summary/request: the oldest deities, life and death, fall in love with a human but everything falls apart when her child dies. centuries later, you meet your past lovers on the witches' road.

content: angst without a happy ending, mention of death, crying, agatha being angry and hurt.

masterlist

You have been around since the start of life and since then, you have only managed to fall in love with two witches.

One of the witches was your complete opposite and not in a personality or aesthetic way, but in a way that she took life whilst you gave life. She was Death and you were Life. You would think that Death and Life would not be able to stand each other, but you craved each other.

For a very, very long time, she and you were each other's only lovers. Until you met Agatha Harkness. It was unbelievable that two of the oldest deities fell in love with a human, but it had happened.

Alas, it fell apart.

You had breathed life into the child growing in Agatha's stomach and all was good. His heartbeat was strong and you could feel his life churning through his body. Then, you felt nothing.

For the first time in existence, Life had fought Death.

It was wrong. It went against the natural order of life and death. But you could not bear to watch Death take away one of your most precious creations.

So, the boy lived for six years.

When Death came back for a second time, you couldn't fight her. It broke both of your hearts to watch Agatha cry and beg.

But even love cannot stop the natural order.

Once he was taken by Death, your relationship with the witches' was killed.

There was deep hatred in Agatha's heart for Life and Death. She hated how you did not keep the life in him and she hated how Death took the life. After that, everyone went their separate ways. The only connection you had with Death was feeling her take the life from your creations.

But centuries later, you met your lovers on The Witches' Road.

A grin was plastered across Rio's face as Agatha clawed at her and screamed in anguish.

"I hate you!" Agatha practically growled.

Rio turned to you with a dramatic surprised look on her face. "Do you hear that, my love? Agatha hates me! That's news I haven't heard before."

You stared at her, unsure of how to reply. Rio had always been the more sarcastic and cruel one, but her sarcasm seemed too cruel.

Agatha grunted, turned away and walked hastily down the Road.

Her coven glanced between the three of you with a look of confusion on their face.

You sighed. This was going to be horrible.

And so it was.

Rio continued to make comments towards Agatha, which only angered her. There were a few times you thought Agatha was going to slap her across the face.

You hadn't said much. Being Life, you preferred to watch people interact. You have done your job by breathing life into them, and now you can watch them use that life to their own liking.

It was as you all sat around a campfire you found yourself talking.

"I have a scar." Rio abruptly spoke.

Agatha laughed. "No, you don't."

Yes, I do." She insisted, glancing over at you and locked eyes. You shifted awkwardly under her gaze.

"A long time ago, Y/n and I had to do something we really didn't want to do, but it was my job and I had to do it."

Agatha stiffened.

"And in the process, we deeply hurt someone who we both love." You continued as you understood who she was talking about.

"And she is my scar," Rio concluded.

You wanted to say more, but Agatha stood and muttered something about needing fresh air. Naturally, Rio and you followed her.

Agatha stood in the middle of a deeper part of the forest. Now, that you were further away from the coven, you could feel how strong her life was and that made you smile.

You brushed your hand against Agatha's arm but she pulled away. "Don't."

"Agatha, you know we couldn't control it."

Wrong words. There were unshed tears in Agatha's eyes and her brow furrowed. You watched as pure anger filled her eyes before sadness washed over.

"Couldn't control it?" Her voice wavered with emotion. "You are Life and she is Death. What the hell do you mean you couldn't control it?"

She dug her finger accusingly into your chest.

Rio grabbed her finger and stepped into her personal space. Agatha tried to pull away but Rio kept a tight grip on her.

"I understand you are angry, but-"

"Angry? Are you fucking serious, right now?" Agatha made a noise of disbelief. "I feel furious, hurt, abandoned, heartbroken, and lost. You both took my boy away from me and expect me to just be angry? You are unbelievable."

You swallowed roughly. You had imagined this exact situation millions of times in your head, but now that it was actually happening, you didn't know how to react.

"Agatha, I loved Nicky dearly and taking his soul was the last thing I wanted to do. I gave you something that has never been given in all existence because I love you and him." Rio spoke calmly and sincerely, completely different from how she spoke sarcastically earlier.

"If you really loved me, you wouldn't have taken his life away." Her eyes flicked over to you. "And if you really loved me, you would've kept feeding him life."

"You're both monsters."

Those words stung. You bit your lip and held back tears from forming in your eyes. You didn't want to cry, not in front of them.

Being Life, you weren't used to being called cruel names. People praised and worshipped you. But being called such a cruel name by a person you loved broke your heart.

Agatha scoffed at the silence and walked back to the coven, leaving Rio and you alone.

Rio didn't seem as bothered by Agatha's words. Being Death, she was constantly called cruel names, therefore, she was used to it.

"It's okay to cry."

"I'm not going to cry." Your voice broke with emotion as you said that.

Rio sighed, pulling you into her embrace. You buried your face in the crook of her neck and you cried softly.

"Why can't she understand that we couldn't stop it?"

"Nobody will ever understand it. Humans think life and death are simple but don't realise how complicated it is."

Rio kissed your neck before pulling your face out of her neck and cupping it lovingly. She wiped your tears away with her thumb and sadly smiled.

It broke her heart that you were upset.

"I miss her." You sniffled. "I miss us."

Rio's brows furrowed and she wiped her own tears away. "I know."

You wrapped your arms around her neck and kissed her softly. Your heart fluttered and you relaxed in her hold. Kissing Rio was one of the most magical feelings.

When you broke apart, you rested your forehead against hers.

"Do you think she will ever forgive us?"

"No, I don't," Rio answered honestly.

You sniffled. Her answer broke you but it was the truth.

No matter what, Agatha would never forgive you for what you did. You will always be considered a monster to her.

[unclewaynemunson]

@bigskyandthecoldgun made this very big-brained post about the perfect miscommunication potential of Eddie's heart monitor betraying his feelings for Steve while he's recovering. @mostrizzaward asked me to write it and how could I say no to that :D

The first time Steve sets foot in Eddie's hospital room is terrifying. Eddie is as pale as a dead man. He has dozens of wires attached to his body, that are connected to just as many machines and monitors displaying complicated graphs, all softly beeping at varying intervals. Everyone in the room talks in soft, grave voices and all the nurses and doctors have matching serious frowns on their faces.

But what seemed to be impossible happens on a dreary Wednesday afternoon in April: Eddie opens his eyes for the very first time since he passed out in Dustin's arms. Steve is at work when that happens, but rushes to the hospital as soon as he can, and suddenly Eddie's room seems a lot less terrifying than before. Because Eddie is grinning at him from his bed, even though he's still pale and weak. He's not only alive, he's awake. It's a goddamn miracle. His wide grin is familiar despite the big scar that has marred his cheek. Fuck, Steve doesn't think he'll ever be able to put into words how much he missed that smile.

Eddie rasps his name as a greeting and Steve comes closer to the bed. But then, something weird happens.

The machines around Eddie's bed are still beeping, but there's less of them now. The electronic symphony of noises has been reduced to a duet of two different beep patterns that are clearly distinguishable from each other. And one of them speeds up rapidly when Steve leans over the bed in an awkwardly angled attempt to give Eddie a hug.

“You okay?” Steve asks, worried. He wonders if he should call for a nurse.

“Yeah, man,” Eddie mumbles. His eyes flash towards the monitor in question for a second and a blush creeps over his white cheeks. He seems ill at ease; Steve can't quite put his finger on it but there's something weirdly awkward about the whole thing. He seems otherwise fine, though, so Steve decides no nurses will be necessary.

He clears his throat and takes a seat in the chair next to the bed. For a moment, he wonders why he's even here. They weren't exactly friends before all of this happened. It would be perfectly normal for Eddie not to want him around – and yet here he is, visiting him in the hospital like it's the most normal thing in the world. What is he even doing here?

But then, Eddie starts talking about how his uncle was with him when he woke up and gave him this book he's been wanting to buy for ages.

“He cried, Steve, I've never seen him cry in my life, but he was bawling, I'm not kidding!”

Despite his animated tone, Eddie's voice is still weak and his eyes keep falling shut even while he is talking. Steve knows that he shouldn't overstay his welcome and let Eddie rest, but he finds himself too captivated in how alive Eddie is, even though his whole presence – his loud voice, his broad arm gestures, his expressive face – seems a little bit toned down. So when Eddie tells him with a vague gesture to his nightstand that he tried to read his new book, but found himself too tired to focus properly, Steve finds himself proposing to read it to Eddie before he even realizes what he's doing.

And then the weird thing happens again. Eddie starts smiling at the exact same time the heart monitor accelerates.

Steve chooses to pretend like he doesn't notice. Instead, he takes the book from the nightstand and flips it open on the first page. He starts reading aloud, but he can't really keep his attention on the words that come out of his own mouth. He can't help but feel like he made a mistake. Is the heart monitor signaling to him that his presence is making Eddie uncomfortable? Shouldn't he have left Eddie alone to rest when he started getting tired? Why the hell did he ever think it'd be a good idea to read to him in the first place? He's never been a good reader, and certainly not a performer like Eddie. So he awkwardly stumbles his way through the words on the pages, in no way able to keep up with the complicated plot and no doubt failing spectacularly in the use of voices and appropriately ominous pauses and whatnot. Whenever he glances up from the pages, he finds Eddie leaning into his pillow with his eyes closed and a faint smile around his lips, only to find out he's lost track of where he was when he directs his attention back to the book in his hands.

It doesn't take long until Eddie's breathing becomes audibly deeper and evens out. Steve softly closes the book. He allows himself a few moments to do nothing but stare at Eddie's face and be grateful for the absence of a breathing tube between his lips, showing that he's only sleeping this time. Then, he gets up and tiptoes out of the room.

***

The weird thing with the heart monitor keeps happening every time Steve visits Eddie. It happens when he greets him, when he starts reading to him, and especially whenever he helps him adjust his position in the bed he's still chained to. Every time they touch, every time Steve gets close to him in any way, like clockwork. And every time, it's paired with some kind of physical reaction on Eddie's part: a blush on his cheeks, a somewhat forced chuckle, or sometimes even a badly concealed flinch, away from where Steve's hands are touching Eddie.

Steve pretends not to notice it, for Eddie's sake, but it can only happen so many times before he has to face the clear and obvious truth here: his presence is making Eddie extremely uncomfortable.

One part of it still doesn't make sense, though: Eddie actually asks him to read to him or to help him sit up or lie down again, and the next thing he knows, Eddie will suddenly be avoiding his gaze and that goddamn heart monitor will make it sound like Eddie is trying to break a sprint record instead of lounging in his bed, and he'll recoil from Steve's touch like he doesn't want his hands anywhere around him.

Steve muses over Eddie's odd behavior for days before he comes to the only logical conclusion: Eddie is actually repulsed by him and is too polite to tell him the truth. It's the only explanation that makes sense. It's just like what Steve realized so clearly that first time after Eddie woke up: they weren't friends before this, so why should they be now? Steve has no business being at his bedside all of a sudden, and Eddie doesn't have the heart to be mean to him and spell that out for him.

He can't even blame Eddie for it. For most of the time they've known each other, Steve was a major asshole, everybody knows that. Sure, they're twenty now and Steve has moved past high school stereotypes when he got close to Robin, but still... Those stereotypes made up everything about who they were, how they were perceived and who they interacted with for four whole years of their lives – six even, in Eddie's case. Eddie doesn't have any reason to want to let that go like Steve did.

He would never admit it to anyone, but the conclusion he reaches breaks Steve's heart: he should stay away from Eddie. Eddie has every right not to like having Steve around and Steve certainly doesn't want to add to his discomfort. He has been through enough, Steve wouldn't want to make this whole long and painful process of recovery even worse for Eddie by imposing his unwanted presence on him.

It doesn't matter that Steve has started to look forward to his hospital visits like they're the very best part of his week. It doesn't matter that Steve's heart starts racing for whole other reasons than Eddie's whenever they're close, whenever they're touching or whenever Eddie is smiling that beautiful smile of his. It doesn't matter that Steve wants nothing more than to keep reading to Eddie even though he still doesn't have a clue what that stupid book is about. None of it matters, because that's simply the price one has to pay for being an asshole and a bully in high school.

It doesn't matter, because there are way worse things than the guy you've developed feelings for secretly harboring a grudge against you. He still has Robin, he still has his little nerds, he even has Nancy back; as a friend, this time, which is honestly better than things ever were between them. He has the knowledge that Eddie survived and will be getting better with each passing day. Maybe he can start dating again, find a cute girl with blue eyes and blonde hair who doesn't remind him of the one person he can't be around, and it'll all be fine again. It doesn't matter.

Update: there's now a sequel post :D

[inkspiredwriting]

Unspoken Jealousy

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Number Five stood in the middle of the living room, staring intently at a complex blueprint spread across the coffee table. He was deep in thought, muttering to himself as he connected the dots of his latest plan. Y/N, his wife, watched him from the doorway, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. She admired his brilliance and determination, but today, something else gnawed at her.

“Hey, genius,” she called out, trying to sound casual. “What’s got you so engrossed this time?”

Five looked up, a grin spreading across his face as he saw her. “Just working on a new project. Trying to make sense of this time anomaly I noticed.”

Y/N walked over and sat beside him, glancing at the blueprints. “Another day, another time anomaly, huh?”

He chuckled. “Something like that. You know how it is.”

Y/N nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. Lately, she had noticed Five talking more and more about Dolores. It was never in a way that suggested he still had feelings for her, but the mere mention of her name was enough to spark a pang of jealousy.

“Five,” Y/N began, hesitating slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he replied, looking up from his work.

“Why do you talk about Dolores so much?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light. “I mean, I get that she was important to you, but it feels like she’s always there in the background.”

Five’s expression softened, and he reached out to take her hand. “Y/N, Dolores was a coping mechanism for me when I was alone in the apocalypse. She kept me sane when there was no one else. But she’s just a memory now, a relic of a time I’d rather forget.”

Y/N sighed, her jealousy turning into a deep-seated insecurity. “I understand that, but sometimes it feels like I’m competing with a ghost.”

Five’s eyes widened in surprise. “Competing with a ghost? Y/N, you’re my wife, the person I love most in this world. Dolores was a mannequin. She wasn’t real. You are.”

“I know that,” Y/N said, her voice tinged with frustration. “But it doesn’t change how I feel. Every time you mention her, it’s like a reminder that there was a time when I wasn’t enough to keep you sane.”

Five moved closer, cupping her face in his hands. “Y/N, you are more than enough. You are everything to me. Dolores was a figment of my imagination, a way to survive. You are my reality, my anchor. I’m sorry if my talking about her makes you feel less important. That was never my intention.”

Y/N leaned into his touch, tears welling up in her eyes. “I just want to be the one you rely on now, the one you talk about.”

“You are,” Five whispered, kissing her forehead. “You’re the one who brought me back from the brink, who gave me a reason to keep fighting. Dolores was my past, but you are my present and my future. I promise to be more mindful of your feelings.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. “Thank you, Five. I needed to hear that.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s embrace. The blueprints and time anomalies forgotten, Five and Y/N took comfort in their love, reaffirming their bond. It wasn’t always easy, but they knew they could face anything as long as they had each other.

From that day forward, Five made a conscious effort to let Dolores fade into the past where she belonged. He focused on the present, on Y/N, and the life they were building together. And though the scars of the past would always be there, they were just that—scars. They would heal, and with Y/N by his side, Five knew he could face whatever the future held.

In the end, it wasn’t about erasing the past but about making sure it didn’t overshadow the present. Five and Y/N found their way back to each other, stronger and more united than ever. And that, they realized, was all that mattered.

[amsgrey]

he just sounds like that

Kaz Brekker x Fem!reader (established relationship)

synopsis: Arrogance has no place on a job, but you let it lower your guard. You pay the price, but Kaz helps bring you back.

I kind of like merging Book/Show Kaz and trying to keep accurate to his mannerisms and humour etc so hopefully this is good. I came about this idea after thinking about this scene from TLOU and how Kaz most definitely had an asshole voice. Also, I will probably make a few parts/drabbles about Kaz x Inferni Reader, because I love Kaz no apologies.

Warnings: Mentions of Slavery, reader reliving her time as a slave (briefly), Mentions of scars of wrists from slavery chains etc, A fumbley understanding of the technology of the time and inferni powers (it's been so long since I read the books)

Getting split from the other crows was distressing, but there was nothing you could do about that now. You and Kaz just had to keep going, trying to work your way back to the rendezvous point.

"Tell me again why you thought this would work," You hissed to Kaz, who had been leading you in a circle for what felt like forever.

Kaz gave you an irritated glare, "It did work."

You scoffed, "Yeah, that's why we're lost in this saints forsaken mansion."

Kaz let out an exasperated sigh, "Are you done?"

You and Kaz had known each other for years, the entire time you'd known each other you bantered like this. Kaz would act all irritated and stern, but you knew he silently liked the way you could relieve tension and make even him crack a smile. As the only two Crows born and raised in the farmlands of Kerch, you shared a different connection. You had found each other before The Barrel knew Kaz as the force he was now. Kaz had saved you from Slavers and convinced you to join the Dregs, helping you find a life without fear.

Since then, you followed him through everything, which at this current moment, meant even through the merchant's maze of a mansion. Nina, Matthias and Wylan were somewhere outside, waiting for you, Kaz, Inej and Jesper to get what you were after and meet them. You wondered if they would be growing impatient yet, you were late, which almost never happened on a job with Kaz.

The job had started off as most others, breaking in was always the easy part. You had been privy to Kaz's plans, watching him study a map of the mansion for weeks before he committed to the job. He knew the place like the back of his hand, but he didn't know the extent of the new security measures the merch had introduced.

You and Jesper dawdled behind Inej and Kaz as they led the group through the halls. Occasionally Jesper would pause at a painting or display piece and make comments about its ugliness or stupidity.

The last painting he'd criticized was of an older man, dressed in a bright blue kefta with red embroidery. Jesper had caught your sleeve and pointed it out to you, "Looks like the merch has inferni ancestor."

You had screwed your nose up at the portrait, "I thought he was Kaelish?"

"He is," Kaz said, already at the end of the hall with Inej. He was waiting for the two of you to catch up, like a boy calling his dogs home.

Walking through the mansion felt surreal, mostly because you hadn't been to many places with such decadent displays of wealth. The four of you could move through the hallways unnoticed because the Merch and his family were out at the theatre - or whatever it was rich people did in Ketterdam on Sunday Nights. He had brought most of his guards and men with him, leaving the halls silent and unpatrolled. Kaz had called him an arrogant fool, to declare his mansion impenetrable and then take all his men out to prove it. There was no place able to keep out Dirtyhands, especially not when he had his crows by his side.

Thinking back on it you realized how you all had been too arrogant, thinking this job was in and out, easy. You'd let your guard down - something Kaz warned you to never do in this city - and now you were paying the price.

Everything went wrong when you and Kaz finally found what you were looking for - the merch's family jewel, a sapphire embedded in rich Kealish gold. You had easily broken through the fabrikator-made lock, it might have been made by a Grisha but it couldn't hold up against a Grisha. Especially not one who could melt metal with the same ease as cutting pastry. Kaz had reached for the jewels, as soon as he lifted it off the display the room filled with an ominous hum. Like the sound of a machine slowly whirring to life.

Kaz had pocketed the jewels, grabbing your forearm and tugging you along behind him as he went for the door Jesper and Inej were guarding. Before you could make it metal bars slid down over the doorway. You had tried to use your small science to melt the metal, even Jesper tried to budge it, but nothing worked. Kaz ordered Inej and Jesper to find their own way out as alarms chimed, directing you back through the room to another exit.

You had followed behind him willingly, knowing he knew the way around the mansion. You'd been irritated to learn how wrong you were, Kaz knew the layout of the mansion but the Merch had updated the floorplan. Clearly, another Fabrikator addition to hinder thieves.

"Wait," Kaz held up his hand and you barrelled straight into his back at the sudden halt, "Do you hear that?"

Footsteps.

"Back," Kaz whispered, ushering you back the way you had come.

You got to the end of the hall before you heard more bodies approaching, you were surrounded. Immediately you went to the window, trying to pull at the latch and open it. It didn't work, but you could see light dancing on the tree line.

"Kaz," You called, "Look."

You both squinted into the dark, trying to distinguish who it was in the woods. You saw the glint of steel, like someone was spinning a revolver.

"It's Jesper."

The footsteps were getting louder, there was no way you and Kaz could get out of this on your own.

"Step back," You struck your flint, the sparks allowing you to create a ball of flame. You concentrated it as small as it would allow, pressing your palms against the window until cracks started forming. After a few more seconds the pane shattered, sending the shards falling to the ground below. You were on the second floor, even if you wanted to jump there was no way you and Kaz would be able to land safely. You settled for sending up a burst of flames, Jesper and the others would be on the lookout for it, your SOS symbol.

"Stop!" Someone shouted and all hell broke loose.

You and Kaz fought well side by side, you both knew each other's moves, working in tandem to take down opponents. It looked like you might win for a little while, then a woman rounded the corner with her hands pressed together. Heartrender, you realized it too late.

You were woken suddenly, like your heart was all of a sudden coming back to life. You gasped and spluttered, lungs burning. Your hands were bound above your head, separated by a thick metal rod so that you couldn't summon. Already you could feel the ache in your shoulders, hanging from your arms was something you had been used to when you were a slave. Now, you had to fight back the panic that tried to grip your heart.

You struggled to find your footing for a moment, but eventually managed to stand up enough to take the strain off of your wrists.

Kaz.

Where was Kaz?

"Look, Brekker. Your girls fine."

You squinted to find where the voice was coming from, finding the source across the room. Kaz was standing opposite a burly man nearly a foot taller than him. Kaz's face was bloody and bruised, but he had murder in his eyes. You could see it, feel it, all the way across the room. You realized it wasn't just Kaz and the merchant; the other crows were there too. Inej held a blade against the heartrenders throat from earlier, who had both her hands held far apart to show her cooperation. Jesper was not too far away, his pistols in hand as he stared down a man who stood in between you and him.

What did I miss?

"No harm was done," The merchant continued, his voice thick with a Kaelish accent, "What do you say we part ways, unharmed."

Kaz's face didn't change, "Sure."

The Merchant frowned, a glimpse of fear breaking through his resolve, "I don't like your tone, boy."

"He always sounds like that," Jesper joked, glancing at you.

"He has an asshole voice," You agreed. Not two nights ago you and Jesper had been saying the same thing to Matthias at the Slat. You and Jesper enjoyed teasing the Fjerdan, especially regarding Kaz and his 'demjin' ways.

Kaz looked amused, he had the Merchant in the palm of his hand. "Go. Before I change my mind."

The Merchant almost tripped as he ran away, not even stopping for his Heartrender and right-hand man who followed behind him just as quick.

With the immediate threat gone, you felt your resolve begin to crumble. You had to get out of these chains. They would rub your wrists every time you moved, bringing you straight back to your past.

"Stop moving," An older woman had warned you, "It hurts less."

She was probably right, but you were too terrified to listen. Hours ago you were playing on your family's farm, but now you were chained to the roof in a dark, damp cellar. The chains were rusted and coarse, they rubbed the skin around your wrists raw, leaving cuts and grazes everywhere they pressed.

You were only eight, by far the youngest of all the slaves in the cellar. The chains they used to bind you didn't have cuffs, the slavers had just looped the links around your wrists and locked them tight. All you felt was the pain and the fear. All of this because you were Grisha? You only just learned of your power as an Inferni, how could you be worth anything?

The older woman tried to console you, doing her best to quell your tears and sobs, but even she knew the horrors that awaited you. The horrors you would spend years fighting to escape.

"Y/N," Kaz's voice was soft, he stood in front of you, supporting your weight as Jesper worked on freeing your hands from the chains. "Stay here."

You knew he was trying, you could see his own emotions clawing at him. It was one of the things that bound you and Kaz together, the demons of your past. You understood what it was like to fear touch and he understood what it was like to be betrayed. You helped each other, through the flashbacks and nightmares. You two didn't have anyone else, so you fought to have each other.

When Jesper finally broke through the chains, you lurched forward unexpectedly. Kaz held you tighter, trying to keep you upright even with his bad leg. You stood up, holding your hands out to balance yourself.

'I'm okay," You lied, trying to avoid Jesper and Inej's worried glances, "We should get out of here."

Back at the Slat, you sat staring at your cup of cocoa. Nina had made it for you as her way of trying to help, she could hear that your heartbeat hadn't stopped racing since leaving the job.

Jesper and Wylan had offered you gentle conversation, but you couldn't hold it for long. You had claimed you were tired, bidding your friends goodnight and climbing the stairs to your room. You didn't stop at your floor. Your feet carried you further up the steep stairs, stopping when you reached the attic which Kaz had converted into his own room. You didn't have to knock, you just opened the door and announced yourself.

Behind closed doors, Kaz was less concerned about keeping up his Dirtyhands persona. He smiled ever so slightly as you sat on his bed. A few months ago you had forced him to rearrange his room so that you could see him working while you lounged on his bed. You often ended up like this, watching him work after long days and taking comfort in each other's presence.

This time, Kaz wasn't concerned with his papers, he just looked at you, waiting for you to talk. You had talked Kaz through his own episodes many times, you never pushed him or asked him to move quicker than he was ready. For the first time, Kaz wanted to offer you the same comfort, but he wasn't sure if he could.

You were rubbing your wrists, stuck in your own memories of your time chained.

Kaz slowly joined you, giving you time to pull away. You glanced over at him, watching him as he slowly removed his gloves.

"Kaz-"

Kaz shook his head to silence you, continuing what he was doing. He placed his gloves neatly on the bedside table, turning to you. He reached out slowly and you let him. He gently pried your fingers away from your wrist, taking your hands in his own. He turned your palms up, his fingers slowly ghosting over the scars on your skin.

Kaz could feel the warmth of your skin through his fingertips. It helped him fight off the flashbacks, the warmth reminding him you were safe, healthy, alive.

Kaz's fingers traced over a scar on your right thumb. You couldn't help the small sigh that escaped your lips.

Kaz's head snapped up to look at you, fear filling his eyes.

"I'm okay," You meant it this time. The flashbacks were gone, locked in the vault in the back of your mind.

Kaz could tell that you meant it, see the anxiety leave your face. He drew his hands back, reaching for his gloves again. You smiled at him as he slipped his hands back into them, the leather bringing him the comfort he needed.

Kaz offered you a quiet apology.

"Kaz," You couldn't help the adoring smile on your face, "It's okay."

You knew Kaz could handle contact more when his gloves were on, so you gently took his hand. Kaz watched as you copied his movements from earlier, gently opening up his fingers. You slowly raised his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm.

"I love you," You said, "Gloves and all."

Kaz smiled, a genuine smile that you only saw in the safety of these four walls.

He let out a quiet reply, "I love you too."

[rumi-buni]

𝒜 𝐵𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓈𝑒

Bonten!Mikey x Reader

Word Count: 2,279

Synopsis: You promised Mikey you would always be at his side, and nothing would change that.

You lean against the balcony railing, watching the cars and people on the street below. It was late, but Tokyo never sleeps. Your eyes hone in on a group of teens, laughing and pushing each other around. Your heart aches, remembering when that was your life. You watch the smoke from Kakucho’s cigarette curl around the image. The smell of menthol tickles your nose as Kakucho offers you the cigarette pinched between his fingers.

“No thank you. I’m quitting.” You shift, so your back is to the railing as you look at Kakucho

“Really? I thought they calmed your nerves?” He looked surprised. You’d tried to quit before, but the gnawing anxiety that had a permanent home in your chest brought you back.

“They do,” Your voice goes soft, “But they aren’t good for the baby.” You let your hand rest on your lower belly, staring down at yourself.

Kakucho sputters in disbelief, “You’re pregnant? For how long?”

“Almost three months now. I’ll start showing soon.” You frown, this was supposed to be a happy thing but you just couldn’t bring yourself to be happy about it. This was never supposed to happen anyway.

Kakucho calls your name, bringing you back to him. “Does Mikey know?”

Tears well in your eyes as you look at Kakucho, and you shake your head. “I can’t tell him. He’ll make me get rid of it.” You sniffle as the tears begin to overflow.

Kakucho tosses the end of the cigarette off the balcony before drawing you into a hug. He smelled of menthol and the cologne you’d bought him for Christmas, hints of cinnamon. It was a strange combination that made your nose scrunch.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell him.” He strokes your hair, soothing you.

Despite all of the pain this life has brought you it also brought you Kakucho, and that must count for something. You still remember the first time you met him.

You were at the battle between Toman and Tenjiku, even though Mikey insisted you stay home. You refused, you swore to always stand at his side. You were standing off to the side, trying to stay out of Mikey’s way when someone bumped into you causing you to stumble. If it wasn’t for the hand that caught you you would’ve landed on your ass. Connected to that hand was Kakucho. He looked a lot different back then, skinnier and with a buzz cut. But his most striking feature was still present, a thick white scar running down one side of his face and leaving him blind in one eye.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” Kakucho’s voice was low, it almost reminded you of Draken. He was careful to make sure you were standing upright before letting you go.

You nodded in response, “It’s alright.”

Kakucho gave you a curt nod before walking off. You liked Kakucho, even back then. Because he was kind, and kind people were so rare in the life you lived. The next time you met Kakucho was when Kanto Manji was formed. Mikey introduced him as the defense captain, and from that point on the two of you became good friends. You spent countless hours together, cooking and listening to music. You even let Kakucho drag to the gym a couple of times. As you got older you spent quieter nights together, watching TV or sharing a cigarette. You just seemed to get each other. But your heart will always belong to Mikey.

You pull away from Kakucho, taking a deep breath. “I should get home, it’s late.”

Kakucho hums, releasing you. “If you need anything, all you have to do is ask.”

You thank Kakucho, leaving him alone on his balcony.

When you get home, all of the lights are off. You’re not sure if Mikey is asleep or he never came home at all. You slip your shoes off leaving them in the genkan, and you toss your purse on the couch as you pass through the living room. You flick the lights on as you make your way to the kitchen. The kitchen is clean, not a crumb on the counter or a dish in the sink. Mikey hasn’t been home all day. You sigh. You haven’t seen Mikey in three days, and the last time you heard from him was through a dry text message telling you not to wait up for him. You leave the kitchen light on. At least Mikey won’t have to stumble through the dark when he decides to come home.

You had so much energy as a child, you were always running and leaping and fighting. It’s why your parents signed you up for karate classes. You miss those days now more than ever, those late afternoons and evenings spent in the Sano family dojo practicing your punches and kicks or playing around with Mikey and Keisuke. What you wouldn’t give to be there again. But you can’t turn back time. You sit on your couch, tracing your finger over the ultrasound photos clasped in your hands. The image is a little blurry, but you can make out the shape of your baby. The doctor told you that you’re reaching the end of your first trimester, she said that the time would fly by now. She must’ve seen the fear in your eyes, the lack of excitement. Must’ve noticed the way your hands shook. She slipped you a pamphlet for domestic abuse as you left. You dropped it in the trash in the parking lot. As much as Mikey ignores and neglects you, he’s never purposely hurt you.

The click of the front door unlocking jolts you from your thoughts. You spring up from the couch, shoving the ultrasound photos into your purse on the coffee table. You turn around just in time to see Sanzu walk into your living room.

“Sanzu? Where’s Mikey?”

Haruchiyo looks around your living room, inspecting the space before his green eyes settle on you.

“Mikey’s at the office. He sent me to check up on you.” Sanzu slips around the couch, beginning to crowd your space.

You tilt your head back to keep eye contact with Sanzu. He slips his hands into his pockets, leaning over you. “So, you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine.” You take a step back to put distance between the two of you. The back of your knee hits the coffee table, knocking your purse onto the floor. The ultrasound photos spill onto the floor.

The movement draws Haruchiyo’s eye. He tilts his head at the images. You hold your breath, waiting for him to say something. You stand completely still as he walks around you, bending down to pick up the photos.

“You’re pregnant.” He doesn’t ask. He knows.

“Yes.” You let out a shaky breath

“Mikey doesn’t know?” Haruchiyo fixes his green gaze on you again, waiting for an answer.

“No. I haven’t told him yet.”

Sanzu is quiet as he sets your purse back on the coffee table, and tucks the photos back inside.

“I’ll make sure he comes home soon.” Sanzu doesn’t wait for your response. He leaves the apartment just as quickly as he came.

You felt a stone drop in your stomach when the door closed.

You were 14 when you learned to cook. Your mother had been trying to teach you for years, but you never cared to learn. It wasn’t until you spent one lunch period listening to the girls in your class gush over the Bentos they had made for their boyfriends. You came home that day in a rush, begging your mother to teach you how to make omurice. She was confused by your sudden enthusiasm, but she didn’t question it. You and your mother weren’t exceptionally close growing up, but she had always been patient with you. The two of you made omurice for dinner that night, as she taught you the recipe. You made an extra portion and packed it into a Bento for Mikey. You still remember the look on his face when he tried it. He couldn’t believe that you had cooked for him. He spent the rest of the day bragging to his friends that you had learned to cook for him.

Even now, 13 years later a little part of you knows how proud your mother would be to see you cooking one of her recipes. It's times like this that you miss her most. When Mikey disbanded Toman, you followed him to Kanto Manji and eventually to Bonten. You chose Mikey over your friends and family. You’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Mikey sits at the end of the table across from you. He's so pale, his eyes are all sunken and dark. He looks like a ghost of himself. Your eyes trail over to where Sanzu stands, perfectly at attention carefully watching over his master. You shift in your seat, nothing about this situation is comfortable.

“I made omurice, your favorite.” You speak softly

Mikey doesn't respond. His eyes trail down to his plate, but he still looks bored. You bring a spoonful of your dinner to your mouth. Chewing carefully. You watch Mikey, he traces his fingertip over his spoon. He never lifts it.

You swallow thickly, “I have something to tell you.”

Mikey's eyes flicker to yours, “What?” His tone is hollow, it’s like speaking to a dead person.

“I went to the doctor the other day, and I got some news.” You stumble over your words, but Mikey stays quiet his dark eyes trained on your face. You wring your hands together in your lap before clearing your throat.

“I’m pregnant Mikey.”

You watch his face, waiting for a reaction. Anger, joy, disbelief. Anything. Instead, you are met with complete indifference. Mikey’s face never changes, it’s like he didn’t even hear your words. Your eyes trail to where Haruchiyo stands behind Mikey’s chair. Sanzu’s face betrays nothing about the thoughts running through his head right now.

Mikey lets out a yawn, drawing your gaze back to him. He pushes away from the table, scraping the chair against the floor as he stands.

“I’m going to bed.”

Your brows knit together. He must not have heard you. There is no way that he heard you tell him that you’re pregnant and all he says is he’s going to bed. You stand from your chair, your hands coming to cradle your belly.

“Manjiro I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a father.” You raise your voice, hoping your words will reach him.

Mikey gives you a bored look, “I heard you, and I said I’m going to bed.” Mikey slips out of the dining room, leaving you and Sanzu alone.

You feel your world crumbling around you. Mikey doesn’t care. You know that Mikey has been depressed for years, but to have no reaction to your pregnancy. The weight of the truth finally hit you. Your Mikey is gone. He died with Toman all those years ago, and left in his place is this ghost of a man. You can’t raise your baby with a ghost. You won’t. You sit back down in your chair, looking over the meal you made. You built a home, and now a ghost haunts it.

“You can leave Haruchiyo.”

Sanzu twitches at the sound of his given name. He nods, making his way out of your penthouse. You pull your phone out of your pants pocket, you flip to your call log dialing the number at the top. It rings for a minute before he picks up.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Kakucho’s voice crackles over the phone. You can hear voices and music in the background.

You take a deep breath, your lungs rattling.

“I can’t do this anymore Kakucho.” Your voice comes out thick, and your vision starts to blur.

“Do what? Y/N what happened?” Kakucho sounds worried.

“Bonten, Mikey, everything!” A sob chokes you, “I’m leaving, I can’t stay here.”

Kakucho is quiet for a minute, “Ok. If you want to leave I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.” You whimper.

You packed your bags and met Kakucho on the street in front of your apartment that night. Kakucho was quiet for a while. His eyes glued to the road in front of him.

“Are you sure about this?” Kakucho gives you a hard look. “You know once you leave you can’t come back.”

You nod, “I don’t plan on coming back.”

A frown makes a home at the corners of Kakucho’s mouth, but all he offers is a small nod.

“Where will you go?”

“America, I have some family in New York.” You caress your belly. It’s starting to become a habit.

“I’ll buy your ticket.” Kakucho says softly.

The last time you disappeared you were 17 years old. Mikey had just disbanded Toman. You remember he had tried to send you away with the other Toman members, but you wouldn’t go. You promised Mikey that You would stay by his side, that you would follow him anywhere.

Now that you are standing outside of the airport, waiting while Kakucho unloads your bags from his trunk you can’t help the ache you feel in your chest. You promised Mikey that you would always be by his side, and now you want to be as far from him as possible. You never wanted to break your promise.

“Are you ready? The flights leaving soon.” Kakucho stands near the entrance, holding your bags.

You take a deep breath, pushing the ache in your chest as far down as you can. You give Kakucho a nod before leading the way into the airport.

[highbabyofthenightcourt]

Something I really love about Elain and Azriel is how they break the mold of what we’ve come to expect from acotar’s love stories. Fate and destiny are often at the heart of these romances—mating bonds, prophecies, signs—all intricately woven into the lives of the characters. But with Elain and Azriel, their connection feels different. It’s something they choose.

Elain seems to be trapped by fate. She didn’t choose to become High Fae, to become a seer, or to be tied to a male she doesn’t want. Her life has been shaped by decisions made for her, leaving her caught in a heartbreaking place where even her destiny doesn’t feel like her own. She’s been seen as fragile, as someone in need of protection. Her softness had always been mistaken for weakness. But Azriel? He saw her differently. He gave her his blade—not out of pity, but because he knew she was capable of wielding it. He trusted her strength in a way no one else ever had. Where others saw fragility, he saw resilience waiting to bloom. Where others tried to shield her from the world, he believed she could face it herself. And in doing so, he gave her something precious: a chance to decide what she does.

Azriel, on the other hand, seems to exists outside of destiny. He’s never had a mate. He wasn’t truly accepted among the Illyrians. Even his wings were denied to him far longer than normal. He’s spent his life feeling undeserving, shaped by a darkness he didn’t choose and forced into a role the world defined for him. Yet that darkness was never who he is—it’s where he’s had to survive. And maybe that’s why Elain is so important. She doesn’t let the world’s perception of him shape her view. She simply sees him. Elain sees the kindness, the vulnerability, the quiet strength he hides from the world. She sees someone worthy of love and belonging, not despite his scars but because of them. Her acceptance becomes his healing. She doesn’t try to fix him or ask him to change. She walks beside him, light and dark, and in doing so, gives him a rare gift: a sense of peace and worth in his own skin.

These characters always learn through their relationships. They experience love that isn’t quite right—love that teaches them who they are and what they need. Feyre had Isaac Hale and Tamlin, before Rhysand. Nesta had Tomas Mandray and Eris, before Cassian. Elain had Graysen, who couldn’t love her as she was, and now Lucien, whose bond feels more like a chain than a choice. The pattern is clear, these characters inevitably turn toward the person who’s been quietly there all along.

For Elain, who’s never had a choice, and for Azriel, who’s never been chosen—perhaps their love is more valuable than destiny. Because it was not forced upon them, but because they choose it.

And maybe that’s the point. Maybe fate isn’t something dictated by a magical cauldron. Maybe fate is two people deciding to love each other, even when all odds are against them. And to me, that’s one of the most beautiful stories of all.

[nekrosdolly]

father's friend (18+)

you are just what he doesn't need.

cw; afab reader, reader in a skirt, dad's friend wesker, major age gap (14-17 years), fingering, degradation, implied multiple orgasms, reader is a little naive and wesker eats that up, predatory almost???, inappropriate use of mirrors, daddy kink if you squint (get a microscope)

terms of endearment; dear (reader receives)

a/n; i don't know how this became what it did bc this was supposed to be fluff. if you'd like the fluff version, i'm more than happy to provide that, just let me know!

when albert wesker pictured his life, he saw greatness. he'd dreamt of sanitizing the world with uroboros, his pet project of years would finally come to fruition. the world would be the perfect place, full of the superior and cleansed of the lesser. his dreams realized.

what he didn't anticipate, however, was you.

you, who came into his life when he was 38 years old, fresh off the high of the mansion incident. mostly human, partially not. he'd changed his clothes- only black attire from that point forward- and kept a low profile because he should be dead, but he's not. with no body to find, they gave up on the search only months later. he'd slid under the radar with a new identity and relocated across the country to some small town on the east coast.

at the time, you were in your early twenties. maybe 24, 21 at the youngest. you were youthful and so sweet, painfully naive and lacking experience of life's true cruelties. without scars that held stories to be told, or nightmares that took hold of you in the night.

unmarked. untainted. flawless. you.

and you hadn't meant to draw his attention. you, the child of his best friend. oh, you were tempting. how whenever he was over, you'd greet him with a little "hi mr. wesker" despite him telling you over and over to call him albert.

he hung around your father because he was an operative of umbrella as well, and albert needed connections. you were quick to teach about certain things, your doe eyes drawn to him whenever he merely breathed. like you were waiting for something.

naturally, you'd maintained a healthy distance for a long time. the routine you two had whenever he'd stop by- almost daily- the greeting, the glances, the lingering, subtle touches on each other's arms, shoulders, backs, wherever you had access to that wouldn't draw immediate attention.

your father never noticed. not as he fell asleep on the couch one night. not when albert ensured the roofie he'd given your father had settled, then snuck up into your room after.

not now, as he has you on his lap, your legs spread wide, your skirt lifted up so he can rub your clit. he forces you to watch in the mirror, your back pressed against his chest, as he pushes your panties aside and sinks two long fingers inside of you. forces you to watch, his other hand gripping your jaw to keep your head still.

"you're a whore," he murmurs in your ear, "such a filthy fucking whore. you think you can tease me and get away with it, hm?"

"n-no, i'm sorry." you whimper, his fingers curling inside your weeping entrance. you're making a mess of yourself and his hand.

"mm, i don't think you are, dear. you're so wet, i bet you've been thinking about this for a while now, right? imagining daddy's friend splitting you open, ruining your perfect cunt." you should be embarrassed that he's got you down to a science, but his words make you squeeze around his fingers. you nod, much to his satisfaction, and he chuckles quietly. it reverberates in his chest and you relish the way it feels, wondering if you'll ever get to be more than just his secret.

"you're never going to get this from anyone else, you know that, don't you? nobody else will ever make you feel the way i feel." you're dumb from just his fingers, but you can't help that they're just what you wanted. the pads of his index and middle finger brush the spongy spot on your walls, making you cry out and writhe in his arms. your thighs try to squeeze shut but he lets go of your face to force them back open.

"t-too much-"

"shut up and take it. this is what you wanted, so why the hell are you complaining you ungrateful brat?" he hisses, focusing on that spot. with the way the heel of his hand is palming your clit, his fingers buried so deep inside you, you're cumming within moments. you're loud even if you don't mean to be, especially as he continues finger-fucking you after your orgasm.

"please- no more, i-i can't-" you whine, trying your hardest to move away from him, but he's got you tight in his grasp.

"you can, and you will. you don't have a choice. you'll cum as much as i want you to." he kisses your temple, the first sign of mercy he's shown you all night, and then slips a third finger in. you're weak to him, the same way he's weak to you.

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

We are heading into a bit of a quieter period for QL corner, with two shows ending now and another next week. At least we still have a true banger airing to sustain us through the drought. Smells Like Green Spirit is also now airing in Japan but has not yet been picked up for international distribution (pray for it to get to us soon). These shows are available for weekly streaming on Gaga unless otherwise noted.

Happy of the End

CWs: Blood and gore, child abandonment, child molestation, childhood sexual slavery, death, family rejection, heavy scarring, human trafficking, rape, sexual coercion and exploitation, suicidal ideation, suicide mention

This week was relatively lighter compared to last week's very rough episodes, but still so laced with sadness even in its happy moments. Haoren mourned his mother, and finally admitted to himself, and to Chihiro, that she was never protecting him. The show dug deeper into how this bond between them is giving them both a reason to shake off their apathy about survival, though that is definitely touch and go for both of them. The way Haoren experienced a few moments of happiness and immediately jumped to the conclusion that he would like to die now because he'll never top this feeling was telling, as was Chihiro casually laying down in the street and not moving until Haoren dragged him away. They don't have any real hope for a better life, but they each seem more invested in the other's survival than their own, and that is giving them something to cling to. It was nice to see them have some moments of trust and connection between them, and for Haoren to finally feel safe enough to strip himself bare, physically and emotionally. I'm bracing for a rough final week, with Haoren's former enslaver coming after Chihiro in a bid to destroy the source of Haoren's new happiness. I don't really know what to hope for in terms of an ending for these characters; I just hope the show can leave us with the sense that their relationship mattered and gave them something they can each hold onto.

Love is Like a Poison

This episode had me screaming with laughter and delight. Haruto can read his Ryo-kun like a book, and Shiba can't seem to figure out which way is up. I don't even want to describe all the hilarious gags and sexy tension and extremely unsubtle metaphors in this episode; I don't want to ruin it for anyone. Go watch!

Chaser Game W 2

Of all the great JQL we've gotten in the last year, why this one got picked up for a second season I could not tell you. I was less than impressed with season 1, and I don't have high hopes this next go round will be any better. Especially after watching the first ep of this new season, in which they unceremoniously undid the ending of the last in a laughably silly way only to introduce a new, more annoying conflict. They could have made something of a story about Fuyu trying to work out a way to manage her family life to be with Itsuki, but they'd rather hand wave that away via gay penguins in favor of a new love triangle. Whatever, show. Here we go again, I guess! I’ll be watching this one mostly to support the ratings.

Tagging @bengiyo to do our last anime update for the next little while, as Twilight Out of Focus has officially ended its run and there is no new animated ql on the horizon.

[2cutie]

Since you're opening requests, bi han x fem reader truama bonding over their daddy issues😁

anon, why must you call me out like this? im not saying bi-han could fix my daddy issues, i'm just saying he's very pretty & would probably make them worse. i'd still tap it.

Your relationship, if you could call it one, to your father was strained. Connection was minimal; you were left with an absence in your heart. In your upbringing, you had been brought into the Lin Kuei for being a potentially successful warrior. You were brought in relatively young, so you had mostly grown up with Bi-Han and his brothers.

But after time, the future grandmaster and you had an upspoken bond that you didn't share with others. You two never spoke much about it, but the parallel connection was there. You knew his father for a long enough time before his death to see how alike it was to your own, and the strain he put on Bi-Han. His life seemed akin to yours, specifically with how yours had molded you.

The past trauma you constantly buried down was weighing on you. So you sat alone in one of the gardens of the temple, where you knew minimal people visited. You were in your thoughts, your memories and past, and allowing yourself to wallow solemn. It was your own form of growth.

Bi-Han had been wondering the halls. His mind was rampant with alike thoughts and couldn't focus on his work. He's no better at healthily dealing with emotions, so instead of trying to manage and work through them, he decided to walk and let the thoughts drift off naturally.

He ended up passing through the gardens and saw you there, sitting on the bench. He didn't pay much mind at first, instead quickening his pace since he wanted minimal interaction in his avoidant state.

But you weren't moving. Barely blinking. You were typically a bit more on the hyperactive side. He wasn't used to such a… phlegmatic stance from you.

The more he looked, the more he saw the barely-there glaze in your eyes.

Bi-Han may not have the greatest grip on emotions but he could identify them in another person. He found himself approaching you. He eventually sat beside you, though you didn't seem to notice right away.

You didn't state anything, but he seemed to know where your thoughts were,; as if yours and his mind were intertwining. It's like he heard your unbridled emotions you never spoke to, ones he knew. It gave him a reason to sit and reflect.

As he stayed, he looked to you. He thought to the past you shared. About how much had changed, and how much older you were now. It was something he never took the time to think about, but your silence was so off-kilter that it made you seem too old. Too hurt and scarred for your age. He never would admit that he preferred your normal persona to this absent visage of you.

But mostly, he didn't want you to be like him. To become what he was, vacant and distant; the byproduct of his father's teachings. It didn't suit you.

Your eyes blinked then, like you heard his rampant thought. A gleam shone in them, even if it was faint. You moved for the first in quite some time. You met each other's eyes and there was an understanding there. As if your eyes could speak the memories that haunted you, as if they were displaying each of your younger selves that you both hid away, and still hid deep inside that stayed sheltered.

Your thoughts were between your father and life before the Lin Kuei. You had never even found solace in Bi-Han's father, either. There was a mutual estranged relationships there.

But the reciprocal bond had subjected you both to an understanding of the other. He could speak with his eyes and you could speak with yours, with no need for words. There would be no need to display emotions you both hid. The volumes your eyes spoke were parallel to each other's suffering. You were in sync to each other without having your problems being exactly the same.

You saw how Bi-Han never accepted his father's teachings. How he grew indifferent to them, and seemed outcasted by his father. It was why he wanted to break tradition, and it seemed only you had noticed that. Only you respected that. And that brought solace to him; a peace he could not find in anyone else.

You then moved closer to him, just a bit. Just until both of your arms would press against each other. It was ever subtle, but it was an evident sign of trust. Of comfort. For both you and him.

Bi-Han's eyes would follow the movement. It was a simple gesture, but it resonated within him. He was devoid to expression, but even he could be affected by such a simple gesticulation. And yours were one he could never deny. One he could feel at ease with.

It was a elusive display that you both cared for each other, just not in an expressive way.

He would stay with you then, until you felt better. Until you gained yourself again, or even just a small fragment. He didn't care how long it would take. There weren't many words to say, even less that needed to be spoken.

You stayed alone in the garden together, in each other's mutual comfort of each other and that was enough for the both of you. To be vulnerable with each other yet still maintain a front. You both saw past each other's exterior. You were one of the same.

[matan4il]

Buddie 615 meta

Before we really get into it, I’m just gonna snicker for a second over the fact that the death doula is named Natalia. Why? The name is related to the Latin term for Christmas Day, which is the holiday when Jesus was born. So the word that the name comes from is related to birth, natal. There’s a touch of irony there, that they gave this name to the girl who is not just a death doula, but who looks like she’s actually into death (who thinks dying for a few minutes is cool or amazing. I have to say, it’s not. It’s a good thing to accept death as a part of life, one that heightens life’s meaning, and help others do the same, it’s another to think that the physically and emotionally scarring experience of being dead for a few minutes is “cool”) and I think that’s an interesting tone to choose when introducing Buck’s new Love Interest. (if you’re into it, you can find more name meanings for 911 characters here) ~~

The scene of Eddie and Chris at the cemetery was very touching. It also spoke volumes on how Buck has taken the same role in Christopher’s life as Shannon. We saw in eps 611 as well as this one that Chris is hoping to be heard by the parent that life has taken away from him (Shannon for good, Buck temporarily). What I find interesting is that with the hospital visit, Eddie must understand this on some level. Even with the guardianship reveal, no one has ever explicitly referred to Buck as Chrstopher’s other dad. But he is, and moments like this cement it. We talk about these parallels, but Eddie gets to live them. He witnesses with his own eyes his son talking about Buck in the same way he does about Shannon. Eddie KNOWS what Buck is to their family unit and it’s not just an emergency guardian. ~~

Which connects me to something I touched upon in my 614 meta, Eddie’s journey. He’s supposedly been okay with dating again since 406, but in the last ep we discovered that he’s still held back by past trauma from his failed relationship with Shannon. She’s featured heavily in this ep, too. Her being Christopher’s mom means she’s a presence in Eddie’s life who will always be there. A reminder of how things can go wrong, meaning romantically, but also just in terms of how unexpected death can be.

It pained me to go from Eddie admitting in 614 that he didn’t want to be alone, to him echoing the words of their deceased vic, “We’re all gonna die alone.” That’s something I’ve heard people saying not so much regarding the question of whether there would be someone by your side when you pass away. More like, when death claims us, we all embark on that last journey into the dark unknown on our own. Whether there’s something after death or not, we’ll all discover that completely by ourselves. That’s such a deeply lonely thought, and we see Eddie trying to deal with it in this ep by not postponing seeing his parents. He realizes he was wrong to assume they got time, because death might come for us at any given moment, just like it happened with Shannon. It’s a continuation of his journey, which is obviously not over yet, but to me it’s quite surprising how this week’s ep actually joined Buck and Eddie’s with the common theme of death, but specifically death intertwined with their romantic life. I think each of them is such a fascinating character in its own right, so why the need to connect their journeys like this? I am staring at you, 911. ~~

I was happy that Eddie brought up what a bad idea it is for Buck to be dating someone they helped on a call. This has been a theme with Buck since he meets the snake lady on a call in 101, through Ali in 202, Taylor in 206 and now Natalia. In other words, this has a big, red sign al over it that says it’s doomed to fail, but our Buck is once more failing to notice that. Hopefully the rest of the events in 6b will help him learn and stop making this particular mistake, where he connects his idea of having self-worth only as a firefighter with thinking he can only be romantically desirable to those he helps on calls. ~~

I wrote in this ask reply about the insanity of how Buck and Eddie seem to always start dating again in consecutive eps. As if 911 is not unhinged enough about that, we also have Buck and Eddie being obstructive with the other guy’s dating attempts, first Buck suggesting ghosting to Eddie as a way of blowing off his date with Vanessa in 614, and now Eddie right away pointing out that it’s not a great idea for Buck to be dating Natalia.

We have seen Buddie dating multiple people over the course of almost 5 seasons now, and not a single time have we seen either man on screen approve of their best friend’s romantic partner. Almost like there’s just no one who’s good enough for the man they love so much, right? No one, because on some level, they know what we do, too. That no one else can compete with what the two of them have together. Which is why none of these LIs feel right and acceptable as partners for their best friend. ~~

I love that right off the bat, we got a reminder that Eddie knows Buck better than everyone, on very intimate levels. Just like Eddie knew when Buck was having an emergency session with Dr. Copeland back in 404, while even Bobby as their captain didn’t, we now saw Eddie knows how well Buck handles his taxes. It’s such spouse behavior. Most of us do not have best friends who keep tabs on how we handle governmental bureaucracy, right? But then the end of this ep circles back to this idea and gives us that scene at the cemetery where Eddie proves that this is true not just when it comes to the small things of daily life. He sees Buck, knows him, understands him and Eddie accepts him in every possible way. Which is why he can say that Buck has indeed been different since the lightning strike, an awareness we don’t hear from anyone else, not even from Maddie, Buck’s very close and loving sister.

It reminded me of how Buck said in 309 that Eddie can be honest with him. Then in 511 Buck repeated a variation of that, saying Eddie doesn’t have to pretend with him. In 513 and 514, Eddie got to be indeed fully open with Buck, just as this was paralleled in 612, where Buck was honest with Eddie. This ep continued to expand on this theme, with Eddie reassuring Buck that he doesn’t need to be anything for anyone. And I loved that in an ep where Buck has just started dating someone new, where he thinks she sees him better than anyone, the person who still gets him the most is Eddie, and that’s the person Buck shares himself with the most, too. There is not a single thing Natalia said to him or that he said to her during their date that can rival the intimacy of the cemetery talk. And if Buck still needs a wake up call to see that, well. I do think there’s a good chance he’ll get one, maybe even very soon.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ ~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ I'm so thankful to the beautiful @eddiediaaz​ for the meta gifs this week! Not only did she step in when my regular giffer couldn’t do it this week, she also made so much effort to make sure the gifs are made as soon as possible, so the meta can be posted as early as possible as well. She’s just amazing and I hope everyone gives her a big round of applause! Merci, cherie!

~~ Thank you to anyone supporting these meta posts. I could never express enough how grateful I am and that they continue to exist thanks to you!

[astroyongie]

Heyyyy

https://www.tumblr.com/astroyongie/771243053972357120/can-you-do-a-rexting-after-break-up-for-tbz-too?source=share

Seventeen?

Seventeen: Texting You After a Break up

Scoups

"I know there's no way back to this" "but still I have one last favor to ask you y/n" "Would you remember me? remember us?" "Just us and the moment that warm our hearts. Just remember our story on the beautiful side"

Mingyu

"Y/n please understand that I'm still full of the love you want" "Still waking up beneath it all, still waiting for you home" "I know you are mad but please lets talk it out yeah?" "I reach for you on faith alone, so please believe me when I say I love you"

Wonwoo

"I am so sorry for what I did to you, fuck" "I don't know what's got its teeth in me, I just felt like I had to bite back in anger" "I know I have sought a lot of fury and unlashed it all on you and I am so sorry.." "I know it will never bring back the innocence I took away from you. I am so sorry y/n"

Vernon

"So you have blocked me uh?" "Seems like your heart is locked up and I still get the combination wrong" "Or are you simply waiting to save your love for someone I am not?" "At least, you could have been honest with me"

Hoshi

"You don't understand do you y/n?" "You dont get to end his relationship without my accord" "Let the impulse of our love and the instinct of our lust, entangle to one yeah?" "In this light you are mine, ‘til the sweat turns to blood.”

The8

"I saw your new post.. seems like you are running forward with your life uh?" "And then there's me, who see our past on an empty ceiling." "I play along with the life signs anyway. Guess you never truly loved me" "But hope to God you don't know this feeling. I truly hope y/n"

Jun

"You are such a liar" "This whole thing about me hurting you, about this relationship not being enough and yet you fucking with someone else already?" "Is this what has become of us y/n?" "Maybe not that you conceal your feelings, they just don't exist after all"

Dino

"Please y/n, stop reaching for me" "You gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave." "You say you want me, but you know I'm not what you need" "So please, just move on. I am your past now"

Woozi

"It's cute that you think that I would have really let you go" "oh and my love, do you really thin I would have mistaken you? I got all the signs. I know you are still in love with me" "Why are you trying to cast me off?" "Are you just trying to turn me on? cmon y/n, come home stop the games"

Joshua

"Please let's talk y/n" "You know I didn't meant what I said. you know that I'm caught up in your design" "How your life connects to mine. Please, don't leave" "I know we can fix things, I just want to be forgiven"

Jeonghan

"hey baby.. it's been a few days, and I need to tell you that I can't do this" "Let's meet up yeah?" "search the skies for a while, you and I.. talk this out of our chests" "Collide like two stars for a while, you and I. Fix this and love each other again"

DK

"I need you to understand that I hate who I have become" "Every time I wake up without you there, fuck it feels like I suffocate" "every damn days its new scars that I didn't ask for, and all I want is you back with me, y/n" "Can you call? ask for answers? please this can't be the end"

Seungkwan

"I understood the other day that you and I, we were never meant" "I spent time realizing that you were never the one I thought you were. you showed a side of yourself that I can't ever erase. Why are you never real? " "Please stop following me through" "Just let me go"

[yanderecrazysie]

Good day, I was actually the anon who requested oshi no ko… I hope you enjoyed it cause I just recently rewatched it cause I couldn’t move past Ai’s death.

But can I have Yandere Aqua and more specifically if you are ok with it, with someone from his past life like his young intern. Like someone he had an attachment to as a doctor as they spent a lot of time working together and become really good friends despite the reader not really being into an idol stuff. So after his death, the reader naturally mourn him and left his hometown because of guilt of not being able to find his body.

So flash forward reader is now a certified doctor for stunt doubles and meats Aqua in a movie set. Seeing you, his once meek intern now a professional doctor brings feelings from him. You are his only connection to his past life as Gorou and he can’t seem to shake you off the emotions you bringout from him. He sees you as someone he has to control to protect you from harm and this leads to yandere obsession.

Thanks for reading my ask and request. Although thinking this more clearly, I feel like there would be a significant age gap between intern reader and aqua but The idea won’t leave my head so I hope you’re ok with it as long as both Aqua and Reader are legal adults

Oshi no Ko was literally so good! I cried at Ai’s death scene, it was so sad! (Then again, I cry at everything on TV these days lol) 

I made Reader young at the start, but there’s still a large age gap obviously. Both are adults though, so it’s technically fine.

Title: To See You Again

Pairings: Hoshino Aqua x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, significant age gap (legal adults)

Summary: Aqua sees someone from his past life again after 18 years. It brings up some darker feelings.

“You know, I can’t really get into this idol stuff, but it makes me happy to see you happy,” you giggled. 

Dr. Gorou couldn’t tear his eyes away from the TV, where a beautiful girl in a pink dress danced and sang on a brightly-lit stage. He gave a grunt of acknowledgment to show he’d heard his young intern. 

At just 18, you were the youngest person working in the hospital. It was clear you weren’t aiming to be a gynecologist like Dr. Gorou was, but your hometown was a small one and there weren't many options to intern at. 

You sat down on the bed next to your mentor, watching Ai blow a kiss to the audience, her eyes shining with emotion. Although you didn’t see the appeal in it, you understood that he had gotten into it from a young patient who had died. You couldn’t help but wonder if that death had scarred him somehow.

Scooting a little closer, you smiled up at Dr. Gorou. He looked at you from the corner of his eye for a moment, smiling back, before he turned his attention back to the idol on-screen. You stifled a sigh.

He’d never notice your feelings, would he?

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aqua stood idly around, watching the other actors practice their lines together. He’d already memorized his part of the script- it was easy compared to all the medical terms he’d had to memorize in medical school. 

“Quiet on set! Quiet on set!” Someone called out. The actors went quiet as a stunt actor got in place on set. Aqua watched silently from the corner he stood in.

The stunt double took a running leap through a glass window, taking the place of the main character, who had performed the scene just before this one. Suddenly, he stood up, clutching his leg and letting out a strangled cry. Sticking out from his thigh was a large shard of glass, blood beginning to seep through his pants.

“Cut!” The director yelled, leaping up from his chair. “Aqua, take him to the doctor on set!”

Aqua bit back a sigh. Why him? He walked over to the stunt double and offered him his arm to take. The stunt actor leaned against him, limping with each step and wincing in pain.

Aqua had never seen the doctor, but he knew where she was staying. He helped the man along the backstage hallway and to the office. He gave a quick knock and entered, helping the stunt double onto the bed.

Once he saw the doctor, his heart stopped. 

You were older now, probably around the age he was when he’d died in his previous life, but it was unmistakably you. He felt an irresistible tug at his heart when he looked at you, reminded of your smile and obvious crush on him.

For a moment, he waited for you to recognize him, but remembered that he wasn’t the same person anymore. Of course you wouldn’t know him. 

You had turned all of your attention to the poor stunt double in front of you, and Aqua was struck by the realization that you’d matured so much since he’d last seen you. You were a fully fledged doctor now, not just an intern. 

He was surprised by the thoughts that crossed his mind. I’m an adult again, so surely she’ll recognize me and want me again. And even worse, the childish reaction he had when he saw the wedding ring on her finger. I knew her first!

Back when he was Dr. Gorou, he had specifically ignored your advances. He was too old for you in his 30s, he had thought. But now, here you were, and the roles had swapped. Now he was the young adult, and the attraction had taken hold of him. Maybe it was hormones or maybe it was the fact that he finally had something from his old life in front of him.

He spotted a photo on your desk and leaned in to inspect it. He was shocked by the image- younger you standing next to Dr. Gorou. He just about choked on his tongue asking, “Hey, who is this?”

You looked up from the leg you were tending and followed his gaze. A sad smile crossed your face. “Oh, that’s my old mentor. He was a kind doctor that went missing, presumed dead. I miss him every day.”

Take that, (Y/n)’s husband. He thought victoriously.

“When can I see you again, Doc?” The stunt double asked as you bandaged his leg, “Maybe at a bar, just you and me?”

Aqua felt red-hot rage shooting through his veins. How dare he?

You giggled your sweet giggle, the one he’d missed for 18 long years, and turned him down. He didn’t deserve your laughter or your kindness, and Aqua seethed silently from it. You had pined after him for so long, why had you moved on?

Maybe your husband had forced you into a relationship. Threatened you. That’s the only conclusion he could make from this situation. After all, you still had his picture on your desk.

He’d take care of your husband for you, and then he’d find a way to make you see that he’s the same man you fell in love with all those years ago.

[iguana-eyanna]

NCIS: Damon Pt. 2

It's been two weeks since he's been in the hospital. He still couldn't fathom that he wasn't in the Navy anymore, and it hurt a part of him that couldn't be healed.

But what hurt most was that he may have lost you again.

Damon's been thinking a lot since he saw you. He wished he wouldn't have broken things off with you in the first place. He loved you with every bone in his body, but he was too scared to bring you into his messy life. But the damage was already done, and he regretted not being there for you and his baby girl.

So when Gibbs came to his hospital room and gave him a medal and a slip of paper that had your new address, he took it as a sign to make things right.

With the spare change he had, he took a cab and arrived at your doorstep in a small apartment. Damon took a breath and hesitated to knock at your door. And he stood there for what felt like a millennium until he heard his name.

"Damon?"

He turned around and saw you holding bags of groceries, looking beautiful as ever. He saw how your bump grew bigger the last time he saw you, and how tensed you must have been standing there.

"Could I help you with your bags?" Damon asked.

He could have said something along the lines of "I still love you" or "I'll be a better man and father for your baby" but he needed to earn your respect first.

"Y-yeah." You said with a bit of hesitance.

He came down the steps to help you as you unlocked the door. Inside, he found more spacious than it was outside. You had a big living room that connected to your kitchen and had a great view of the city. He placed the groceries on your counter as started to place the food in the fridge.

"You um - have a nice place." Damon said.

"Thanks, I saw it in an ad and thought moving closer to my job was the best decision. I got promoted and my hours changed."

"Congrats! That's... amazing." He said, taking a seat by the counter.

You paused where you stood in front of your fridge and turned toward him.

"I heard what happened about your discharged, I'm sorry." You said.

"No, don't be. This- this was my fault. All I wanted was to serve and I lost sight of what mattered most."

You nod in a small manner, using your hands to lean by the marbled countertop.

"What matters the most to you now?"

He hesitates and he looks up to you with teary eyes.

"Trying to be a better man for you."

Your heart began to ache. One part of you just wanted to envelop your arms around him like before, wanting to take back the words you said to him the last time you saw each other. But the other was hurting too much, always feeling you were second place in his life.

You walked ever so carefully to him, placing one hand on top of his.

"I know you're trying to make amends Damon, but I don't think we can be what we were, just not yet."

He nodded his head, understanding that the way you two left things had left scars that hadn't healed. But you held his hand firmer to break out from his thoughts.

"But I do want you here, in our baby's life. She has the right to know who her father is, if you're ready."

A flicker of hope shone through his eyes and gave you a smile that he hadn't seen in a while.

"I'll be here any time you need me."

Since then, Damon has chosen to live near a motel. He wanted to give you space but still guaranteed to be by your side through the end of your pregnancy. He helped you buy some clothes for the baby as well as help you with the nursery. It was your favorite day to be with him as you started to fool around with the paint, purposely painting each other's clothes.

You haven't laughed in a while, and it felt like your heart was being repaired, piece by piece. You offered Damon to stay the night and he looked a bit reluctant, but he knew you wouldn't take no for an answer. So, he slept on the couch that night.

Since your pregnancy, you haven't had a peaceful sleep. So when you heard noises from the living room, you had to investigate.

Your feet slowly padded your hallway and you walked through the dark room.

"Damon?"

You saw him tossing and turning, murmuring. Slowly, you go up to him, softly shaking his shoulder.

"Damon, wake up."

Suddenly, he abruptly wakes up with a cold sweat. He looks at you with wild eyes, like the ones you saw when he was in the interrogation room.

You reach out to touch his face, but he flinches away, his jaw clenched. But you stood your ground.

"Look at me. Please." You begged, whispering.

He hesitantly looks up, fearful. His body screamed at him to run away, to not hurt you, but his heart stood its place, knowing he would never do something like that.

All you could see was his eyes softening, then became glossy as a tear fell.

He began to sob, and he landed his face in your chest. It caught you by surprise, but you held him closely to you, trying to calm him down by combing his hair that was growing and kissed his forehead. You two both stayed in that position until you brought him to your room where you both sat at the end of your bed as you listened to him attentively.

He talked about saving his friends lives in the line of duty, yet feeling like a failure to himself and his country.

"I couldn't recognize myself, I thought I became this monster. All my life, I was too weak to do anything. I almost didn't qualify to serve due to my health records. That's why I started taking enhancements."

Your mouth rounded in a small 'o' as you never new that part of his life before the army.

You intertwine your hands in his and look at his eyes that faced so many wars.

"You fought so much in your life, Damon. I know it seems like you given up but you didn't. You saved so many lives. I know I can't give you much-"

Damon whips his head towards you, hurt.

"What do you mean? You given me the world." His hand softly goes to your growing belly and looks at you with those loving eyes that you once remembered.

You held on to each other, feeling his heart beat slow down as you two laid back in your mattress where you two fell asleep.

When you woke up, you see him snuggled by your belly as you comb his hair that grew much longer through your fingers. He smiles then flutters his eyes open, adoring you again with his gaze.

Both of you know the risks of dating each other again, as no one wanted to break the other's heart.

But you had to at least try. Cause Damon would be damned if he repeated the same mistakes again.

He could promise you that, but for the time being... He was happy where he was now, entangled in bed with the woman who had his whole heart and more.

[gintrinsic-writing]

Hi there. I always read fics where Warriors doesnt know that Time is Mask. But i was thinking why not the reverse? Children don't have that strong of a memory. So although Time remembers the Captain from the war and how much he meant to him, he didn't quite make the connection that he and Wars are one and the same. Meanwhile Wars over here is very proud of his little brother and also constantly trying to offer him hugs and giving him like a bedtime or something and Time is like ???

Do with prompt what you like, maybe when time finally makes the connection.

Also it's totally alright if you don't feel like writing it, no pressure. <3

Sorry this is uhhhhh two years late, Anon. I made it a little silly. :)

--

It was probably the scarring, Warriors mused, idly thumbing the thickened tissue that pulled at his nose and lips. No matter how prettily he attempted to smile, his expression bore a perpetual grimace. It didn't seem fair, but that was life, after all. The end of the war hadn't quelled any of the resentment from those who believed that the Hero should've been quicker, or smarter, or stronger; if anything, the peace that had followed merely gave them time to redirect their ire, and their blades. Warriors hadn't been able to feel his right cheek for nearly a year.

He imagined the length of his hair didn't help the situation either. It was longer, now, and it curled around his jaw if he didn't apply any product. Warriors rather liked it like that, maybe especially because of the way it looked nothing like the practical cut he'd sported during the war.

But still, surely Time recognized him. Yes, he'd gained a few healthy pounds, and he cared about things like moisturizers and conditioners when he'd never before had the chance to, but goddesses above, the scarf was pretty recognizable, and so was his "annoying, posh-ass accent," or so he'd believed.

He certainly remembered Mask, regardless of the decades that must've passed for the other hero.

But they'd been traveling together for days at this point, all nine of them, and Time's countenance revealed not even a semblance of familiarity whenever he looked Warriors's way. And that was...

Well, not great.

So Warriors waited for the right time, and when the younger heroes went off on some questionable exploration of a something called a "fire fruit orchard," he sidled up to the Hero of Time with the closest thing he could manage to a grin. "Portals," he began with a conspiring wink, "am I right?"

Time didn't seem to share his amusement. Not even for camaraderie's sake. "Are you not going to follow the others?"

"No, they'll be fine." Probably. Mostly. "I figured you and I should take the time to talk."

"Hm." Time busied himself with cleaning the back of one of his gauntlets. The metal practically gleamed already. "About what?"

Not one to be deterred, Warriors stepped closer. "It's only right that we get to know each other. Call it bonding, or... unmasking." He paused, waiting to see if the joke connected, and he couldn't help but lean forward to bump their shoulders together just like he'd done to Mask dozens of times during the war.

Somehow, he ended up on his ass. Literally.

"Not interested," Time answered flatly, drawing his leg back as if he hadn't just stepped aside and tripped Warriors with it.

A blushed warmed one side of Warriors's face, and he cleared his throat. Belatedly, he remembered to stand up. "I only meant--"

"I know what you meant." Time held up his left hand. A plain silver ring decorated his fourth finger. "But I'm taken, jackass."

"That's--I didn't--Mask--"

"Try that euphemism one more time, and I promise you won't experience a single peaceful night on this goddess forsaken journey."

Warriors stared, and for once, Time stared back. The look in his eye was fucking terrifying. Warriors couldn't help but admire the man, even if his skin crawled from the intensity of that stare. After what felt like one of the most dangerous moments of his life, he finally sighed and threw up his hands. "Do you truly not remember me, you brat?"

Time blinked, then narrowed his eye. "Should I?" As if it was a threat!

"Captain Link?" Warriors tried, drawling a little out of frustration. "Time travel? The War Across the Ages? Any of that ring a bell?"

For a moment, it seemed like Time had truly forgotten, then his jaw dropped; the stupidity of the look suited him. "Captain?"

"Nayru's sake, yes!" Warriors scoffed, feeling his scarred lip catch briefly. "I can't believe it took you so--Oof!"

He ended up on his ass again. This time, Time was on the ground with him. All things considered, it wasn't the worst hug he'd ever received. Not by far.