#my brain has the WE ARE NOT SAFE DO NOT REST DO NOT BREATHE WRONG OR SO HELP YOU GOD neon sign flashing constantly today

[izzy-b-hands]

At what point do i stop bothering to differentiate between the panic and anxiety attacks when they just. meld into each other and seemingly feed off each other

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Inexperienced (S.R.)

Summary: Virgin!Reader has a secret no one expected, least of all Spencer.

Request: The reader is an overtly confident, social butterfly but has a secret… she’s still a virgin in every way, and it really bothers her. She’s also afraid to make the moves on her crush, Spencer, because of her inexperience. A/N: This is about Reader getting her first kiss. Check out the sequel linked at the end! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff (for Part 1) Content Warning: Embarrassment, truth or dare (game), playful teasing, confessions, first kiss, kissing Word Count: 3.5k

MASTERLIST

I’d always tried to tell the truth. Ever since I was a young girl, I found even the whitest of lies to be a little too guilt inducing to be worth it.

In fact, there had been times I’d even questioned whether my truth was, unbeknownst to me, a lie. Because of that, it had certainly been an odd experience to perform my lie detector test when I first applied for the FBI.

Over the recent years, however, I’d perfected my ability to lie — about most things, anyway.

There had been one exception. A very handsome exception who was sat beside me fiddling with the buttons on his cardigan.

Spencer Reid, my team partner of choice and the love of my life.

He just didn’t know about that second part yet.

But of course, my friends had been very aware of my feelings for the BAU’s boy genius, as well as the fact I was absolutely petrified of him finding out. So, as I sat in the comfort of Emily’s apartment, surrounded by my friends and playing a lighthearted game, I thought I would be safe.

“Truth,” I said with confidence. 

I had been very, very wrong.

“Again?! Really?!” Penelope groaned.

Emily was quick to follow, with her fingers and eyebrows raised, “That is the fourth truths in a row. Seventh—if you include Spencer’s.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a record,” JJ confirmed.

The conversation was bouncing so quickly, with each of them having perfected predicting each other’s next sentence. It was a well-oiled team, after all.

But Spencer broke pattern, butting in between quick quips to ask, “Why are we including mine?”

“I mean, by all means,” I shouted with a smile, “feel free to skip me!”

Penelope saw the easy out she’d given be and obstinately refused.

“No way. Nu-uh. If you’re going to be a party pooper, I’m going to make you pay!”

The rest of the team — including Luke this time but excluding Spencer — let out a harmony of “oooohs” in response to the threat.

“I’m ready,” I dared.

I should’ve known better than to dare.

“Do you think I’m bluffing?” she balked.

I really should’ve known better.

“You tell me, Pen-el-o-pe.”

“Okay, Miss Profiler, fine! Then my truth question to you is…”

I had been so cocky, so sure that Penelope wouldn’t dare take advantage of an innocent crush. But once she’d started, with an ever-escalating pitch until her breath ran out, I knew that I was sorely mistaken.

Penelope had a twinkle in her eye and a sickly-sweet smile on her face as she asked calmly, “Why won’t you tell boy wonder over here how you feel?”

The whole team devolved into chaos within a second. The peanut gallery was loud, but the heartbeat in my ears was even louder.

“Pfft, what?” I scoffed.

I hadn’t meant to look at him. Really, it was the last thing I’d wanted to do. But my brain couldn’t resist following her finger until she pointed directly at the boy to my right.

Spencer looked at me, also. We both stared at each other for a second with confusion and — more notably — embarrassment plastered all over our faces.

I wondered which part of it embarrassed him. I’d hoped it had been the attention, but the quiet voice in my head assured me that it was me that he found embarrassing.

“What? Spencer?” I asked.

As soon as I said his name, I watched one side of his lip twitch into a smile. It made my stomach fully flip, and I looked away as quickly as I could. Of course, that just put my attention back on the group currently laughing at how we were the perfect pair of obvious and oblivious.

“Uh-yeah,” Penelope snickered.

“What are you talking about? We’re friends. He knows that,” I stated so matter-of-factly that it almost sounded fake.

We were friends. I just wanted a little more than… friends.

I turned to the man in question again, but this time, his smile was different. It was lopsided and half-hearted, and it made me feel even worse for putting the spotlight on him.

“Right?” I asked him.

For a second, Spencer looked like he wanted to say something. But then he just cleared his throat.

“Yeah, of course,” he said. “We’re friends.”

Just friends.

JJ, the typical mother of the group, had tried her best not to laugh. However, after four glasses of wine and no intentions of driving home that night, JJ’s lips had gotten loose.

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?” she slurred in a feigned whisper to the woman beside her.

Emily was less inebriated than the others, it seemed. At least, that seemed to be the simplest answer for why she sighed and waved her hand in an attempt to quiet the group.

“You guys, we better stop or they’re never going to admit it.”

Her attempt failed, however, courtesy of Penelope’s number one fan.

“Yeah, right,” Luke laughed, “I give it a week. Maybe a month.”

Everything was going so fast that it felt like my brain was running in slow motion. I’d been there before. In that loud, suffocating moment where I wanted to say anything to stop the ridicule.

‘These are my friends,’ I reminded myself, ‘they’re just poking fun.’

They were good people. They just didn’t realize that in their banter, they’d stumbled into my greatest insecurity. It wasn’t entirely their fault. I’d never told them.

I’d never told them that the reason I didn’t want to confront my feelings was because it was the first time that I’d really felt like this. For most of my life, I’d convinced myself that the right time was never coming for me.

But then I met Spencer. I met him and it seemed like waiting hadn’t been a mistake, but cosmic design.

I thought Spencer had been like me. I thought it wouldn’t be humiliating to tell him that I’d never actually been kissed, much less…

I thought he was like me. It had only taken one poorly timed joke about his ex-girlfriends before I realized that I had been wrong. It only took one polaroid, one story about the time he sucked face with a serial killer for me to realize that Spencer Reid — bona fide nerd, multiple graduate, scrawny, clueless Spencer Reid — was so far out of my fucking league.

The thought of him learning all of this now, in front of all of our friends, was a little too much to handle. Like the monster in the Tell-Tale Heart, my paranoia grew until I was about ready to confess. The truth was going to come out. I couldn’t lie to him.

My breathing picked up and I felt the wine rising in my throat. No matter how hard I swallowed it, my eyes still started to feel with tears.

‘Not now,’ I begged, ‘Not like this.’

“Dare!” Spencer yelled.

Again, the group descended into chaos. This time, it was quieter. This time, the whispers and snickers were aimed towards the man who’d just done what was least expected of him.

“I-I pick dare,” Spencer repeated, “I’ll go.”

Any relief I’d felt was so, so short lived, though. Because not even a second after he’d finished his sentence, Luke spoke.

“Oh, now you’re brave? Alright, then, white knight, I dare you to kiss her.”

Spencer looked at me, and my eyes shut tightly enough to free a few of the droplets that had gathered on the edge.

I wanted to shout, to say anything at all. But ultimately, it wouldn’t take the pain away. No matter how quickly they began to pick up on the shifted tone, the damage was already done.

Before anyone could say a word to make it any worse – or worse, try to apologize – I’d stood from my seat and bolted out of the room. Just as I turned the corner into the guest bedroom, however, I’d heard a familiar voice calling my name as he followed.

Spencer hadn’t been able to stop me, though.

I shut the door and tried to catch my breath. I tried to shake off the anxiety and shame that had led me to the empty room in the first place.

I wouldn’t be alone for nearly long enough.

Spencer, knowing he was the very last person I’d wanted to see in that moment, only gave me a few seconds of silence before his voice could be heard on the other side of the door.

“Hey, are you alright?”

I stepped away from it like I would be able to hide. When I didn’t answer, though, he became bolder. The doorknob turned slowly, and before I could say no, the light from the hallway was peeking through into the room.

“I’m so sorry—" he started.

“Go away!” I shouted back while frantically wiping tears off my face.

I refused to turn around. I was too scared. Too scared of the pity on his face and my propensity for telling the truth. I was so scared that if I opened my mouth to say anything but a beg for him to leave, I would say something so much harder to forgive.

But his stubbornness was part of the reason why I’d loved him in the first place. I couldn’t fault him for only shutting the door after he’d stepped inside. I couldn’t hate him for reaching out and holding my wrist like it would shatter on impact.

If I could hate him for caring about me, this would be so much easier.

“I’m really sorry,” he whispered. He had nothing to apologize for. Still, I felt how much he’d meant it. I could feel the hesitation and trembling in his thumb as he strokes the underside of my wrist.

He never stopped long enough to count my pulse — not even for the card counting savant. There was nothing nefarious. Nothing stopping me from lying to him if I wanted to.

With my back still to him, he stepped closer. I could hear his regret in shaky breath when he said, “I should’ve told them to stop.”

“No, I’m sorry,” I answered immediately. My treacherous body turned to face him and more. My wrist twisted until it was so easy for him to lace our fingers together.

The words flowed from me so easily as long as I didn’t look him in the eyes.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m not mad at you or anything, I just… I don’t know.”

From my peripherals, I saw how Spencer tilted his head and shoulders down to meet my shrunken figure. Without saying anything, he managed to make me look up at him.

With tears in my eyes and my bottom lip firmly between my teeth, Spencer looked at me and managed to make me feel beautiful.

“If you’re worried about hurting my feelings, I just want you to know that it’s totally okay if you don’t… want to kiss me,” he said.

It almost sounded like a lie.

“I completely understand and I would never want you to do anything that makes you even remotely uncomfortable and—“

“Spencer, that’s not the problem.”

Of all the possible rejections he’d expected, that apparently hadn’t been one of them. The boy genius was caught so off guard that he didn’t even know how to reply. His body relaxed, but his jaw remained tense as he tried to run through what possibilities he had failed to account for.

Coming up short, he was forced to ask the question I’d been dreading.

“So… what is?”

“This is humiliating,” I mumbled mostly to myself.

“Why?” he asked.

I looked into eyes that always made me smile and I felt my heart stop. In fact, time itself seemed to stop. The clocks on the walls got louder and slower, like a countdown to the end of something.

Spencer looked terrified, like he was waiting for something horrible. If the voice in my head was to be believed, I guess he was, in a way.

Something would change if I told him the truth. I couldn’t know what or how, but I knew that nothing would be the same.

But… maybe that wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Maybe… it could be better.

“I didn’t want you to kiss me because I…”

I could have lied to him.

I just didn’t want to.

“I really want you to kiss me,” I said. “Just… not like this.”

Spencer’s hand went slack in mine. In a way, he’d let go without actually letting go. Just a gentle shift of his fingers from desperation to shock.

Spencer didn’t pull away. He mostly just… stood there, with his mouth hung open and his mind working slower than it ever had before. But my mind was racing, and my lips felt inclined to follow the train of thought that was now racing down the tracks.

“I want you to kiss me because you want to kiss me. Not because of a stupid dare.”

“Oh,” he said with a shaky exhale.

That was all he’d given me to work with. In a way, it was a blessing, because it didn’t sound enough like an outright rejection for me to stop my loose lips from continuing to spill the contents of my heart in front of him.

“I just wanted… if you kissed me, I wanted it to be more special than that. I wanted it to mean something.”

Like a light switch had flipped on in his brain, Spencer jolted back to his usual energy. That frantic, curious kid trapped in a man’s body was so quick to figure it out.

“Wait, have you never kissed anyone before?” he theorized.

And yeah, he was right, but he didn’t have to say it.

“Freaking profilers,” I grumbled, pulling my hand away from his to cross my arms firmly against my chest. I turned ever-so-slightly away from him before deciding, “You know what? Never mind, I don’t want you to kiss me anymore.”

A bold lie.

Spencer didn’t believe me nor let me get too far. With both hands on my shoulders, he quickly turned me back to him.

“Wait! Wait, is that why you were embarrassed?”

My lips puckered to stop my heart from letting anything else out. My eyes avoided his, no matter how insistent and inviting he was. I pursed my lips tightly enough together that Spencer could hear the answer in the body language.

And with the sweetest, shyest smile I’ve ever seen, he whispered back, “(Y/n) that’s… that’s really sweet.”

It was just so genuine. I was no good at telling when someone was lying, but I had been very experienced in telling the truth.

I knew he had meant it. I just didn’t know why. But in the spirit of truth telling, I decided to simply ask.

“How is that sweet?”

“You want me to be your first kiss,” he said. With incredulity in every part of his expression, he chuckled, “I’m flattered you think so highly of me.”

“I don’t know why, seeing as no one else was interested,” I grumbled.

Spencer did not appreciate the self-deprecating humor. In fact, he was very quick to disprove its contents.

“I promise you that there have been people that wanted to kiss you,” he assured me. Then, with a brief pause after he realized the web he’d gotten himself stuck in, Spencer gave me his own admission.

 “You’re, uh… you’re looking at one of them.”

In that moment, between our lopsided smiles and white flags, I realized how silly this had all been. I wondered for a brief second how this could have gone so differently, how we had wasted so much time obstinately refusing to admit what we both felt out of fear of losing one another.

But we never would have. Still, as I reached out and embraced him without the heavy weight of that burden on my back, I didn’t regret waiting.

In fact, it almost seemed like that was how it had always been meant to be.

“Thanks, Spencer,” I said into his shirt. “Sorry I was weird.”

He just laughed, holding me even closer than I’d ever thought possible as he promised, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

And I knew that he’d meant it. There wasn’t a lie to be found.

Leaving the room after that had been so easy. The world had changed for us so quickly in a matter of minutes that I’d almost forgotten no one else knew what was going on. But I suppose the disruption had been enough of a punishment for their meddling.

I couldn’t hate them when Spencer’s hand was in mine. I couldn’t fault them at all for giving us that push — no matter how humiliating it had been — because in the end, I had everything I could ever ask for. I had everything I needed.

The rest of the night was like it always was. No one said a word about the way Spencer never let his hand leave me in some way, shape, or form. No one even mentioned the fact that our longing stares had changed to something else.

Everyone just had fun, knowing that they had been right about Mrs. Obvious and Mr. Oblivious.

As the night wound down, I found myself dreading leaving. Not only because Spencer had been the designated driver — and a terrible driver, at that — but because that meant he would have to leave.

When he parked the car in my driveway, I thought of what I could do to prolong the inevitable. I hadn’t been expecting him to be quite as much of the gentleman as he was, but I wasn’t going to complain when he hopped out of the driver’s side and ran over to open my door for me.

The walk to my door was silent and felt like forever. I almost wanted to invite him in, but I knew what his answer would be. It had been late, and a lot had happened. I was sure we both agreed that it was alright to take it slow.

I mean, look how long it had taken to get us there.

Once we arrived at my door, Spencer let go of my hand. He still stayed just as close, though. From mere inches away, he looked down at me with an affection so blatant it made my cheeks burn.

I was about to open my mouth to say goodnight when I decided that I had something better to ask, instead.

“Truth or dare?”

Spencer smiled. He swayed even closer, backing me against the entrance and whispering his answer inches from my lips.

“Dare.”

I knew he could feel the way my breath shook. He could see how my eyelids began fluttering shut before I’d given him his instruction.

That wouldn’t stop me, though.  

“I dare you to kiss me.”

Spencer’s hands touched me first. He cradled my face before pressing his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, unsure if I could handle the yearning in his eyes. I didn’t know what to expect, so I just stood patiently, counting the quick beats of my heart, and feeling the warmth of his breath fanning over my lips.

But then, just before I thought he would kiss me, he moved. Spencer tilted my head down and quickly pressed a gentle, chaste kiss against my forehead.

Even that innocent touch lit my body on fire. I opened my eyes, surprised to find that he wasn’t finished yet. I giggled as his kisses continued — one on each cheek before the quickest on the tip of my nose.

I laughed, a sound filled with excitement and my love for that silly boy. Spencer pulled away then, and I almost had the chance to be disappointed.

But then he kissed me. Without any hesitation, no moment of anticipation, he pulled my body forward while simultaneously pushing it back. He kissed me with soft lips and gentle hands.

Eventually, I had the sense to kiss him back. I knew it would be shier and less practiced, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he smiled against my lips once he felt it. He continued his attempts to kiss me until our smiles and laughter were too much to keep it up.

When he stepped back and away then, I felt no disappointment. I felt nothing resembling anything bad, and Spencer seemed equally satisfied.

He still felt the need to explain himself, though. Just in case.

“Not because of the dare,” he said with a shrug and a smile, “Just because I wanted to.”

Then, with the complete lack of grace that I’d loved him for, he stumbled back down the stairs with an awkward wave.

“Goodnight,” he said before I returned it with a promise.

“Until next time.”

I had a feeling we'd have even more fun with that one.

To be continued...

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[jamdoughnutmagician]

You'll Know Me Better (Than I Know Myself) Steve Harrington x Reader (18+)

I need more fics where reader can’t take Steve’s cock that well, so he has to be patient. Awkwardness, but lighthearted, very intimate and tender 😢

Based on this text post from @wroteclassicaly because I couldn't stop thinking about it, so here's the fic. Idk if it's quite what you wanted but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Also bonus points if anyone know's the song which this fic's title references

Word Count:2,088

Warnings: Smut, Self-Doubt, Comfort, Oral Sex (F Rec), Mentions of Painful sexual experiences, alternatives to penetrative sex.

Steve Harrington Masterlist // Masterlist

Steve's soft pink lips pressed against yours, his tongue slipping past your parted lips. He kissed you with an unhurried ease, his strong arms circling your body, keeping you safe as he pulled you closer into his lap. You weren’t naive, you knew the insistent press of Steve’s growing erection bulging underneath the soft fabric of his sweatpants meant he was more than pleased to have you sitting on top of him like this. It was that fact that had your stomach tying itself in knots. 

You hadn't been with many guys before Steve, but the one you had been with had rushed you, everytime being all too quick to have their way with you. Far too concerned with their own pleasure before yours.

But Steve wasn’t like that. You knew that. Steve had been nothing but kind, sweet, gentle and so unbelievably patient with you.

He watches as you shy away into his chest, hiding away from his kisses to nuzzle your cheek against the soft thatch of hair.

“Hey, I don’t have bad breath or something, do I?” he jokes light-heartedly when he sees you shrink into yourself. “Because I swear I brushed my teeth.” he assures you, pulling you closer.  

“No, Steve, you’re fine, I like kissing you, really I do.”

“Why do I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming”

The words get caught in your throat. What was the right thing to say here? That you’re worried that kissing him leads to things getting heated, to getting more intense and you’re not sure if you can handle it? That you’re worried that there’s something wrong with you? That you don’t want to be a disappointment?

“Hey, hey..” he murmurs softly, hooking his finger and thumb under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I can see your brain working overtime, what’s going on up there, hm” his hand moving across your face to brush the stray strands of hair from your eyes.

“It’s just…” you huff quietly, trying to find the words. “I’ve been here before Steve, and when I’ve slept with someone, I’ve just never enjoyed it, it’s never felt… right.” you say, talking through the mess of thoughts in your head.  “..And the last thing I want to do is disappoint you.”

“Oh honey, you could never disappoint me, not like that, not like anything.” he tells you honestly and earnestly, cupping your face in his hands. “We don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with or ready for. I could kiss you for the rest of my life and I would die a happy man.” a boyish smile tugs at his pink lips.

“But I do want to, Steve. I do want to be with you like that.” you breathe. “I just don’t want it to hurt.”

“Well let me just focus on you for a little bit and we’ll see where that takes us? And if something doesn’t feel good or you want me to stop, then just tell me. You call the shots, baby.”

The nervous, yet excited heat that blooms in your stomach bubbles into anticipation as your fingertips count the freckles on Steve’s tan skin.

“Yeah, does that sound okay, Honey?”

You give him an assured nod, and the smile he gives you in return makes you wonder why you were ever nervous in the first place.

“Okay, let’s get you comfortable.” he says, moving you until you're settled back against the soft pillows.

Holding himself above you he begins to kiss his way down your body. His tender kisses butterflying on every curve and every inch of your soft skin, hooking his fingers into the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear.

“I’m kind of regretting not putting on something a little bit more racy if I’d have known that this was the way the evening was going to go.” you laugh softly.

“It’s not like it was going to matter.” Steve grins cheekily. “Cotton or lace, doesn’t bother me, it was only going to get in the way anyway.” he says as he drags the offending material down your legs and flings them behind him to some dark corner of the room.

“Do you want me to make you feel good, Honey?” he asks, as he trails his kisses over the soft skin of your inner thigh, 

His honeyed hazel brown eyes glint with a sparkle as you offer him a shy nod of your head.

“Yeah?” He places another kiss inside your thigh. “Just lay back darling, let me do all the hard work.”

He warms you up with flat broad sweeps of his tongue over your pussy, letting you just revel in the warm wet drag of his tongue over your most sensitive parts. His nose nudges against your clit as his tongue begins to delve between your folds, drinking in every glistening drop of your arousal. His tongue sweeps upwards, circling around your clit before pulling it between his plump lips to gently suckle on it. 

He pulls away from you for a brief moment, to check in with you.

“Doing so well for me, Honey. Want me to keep going? Think you can take one of my fingers?”

You give him a breathy whine of ‘please’ and it's all the affirmation that Steve needs before he's diving back in, eager to taste that little piece of heaven at the apex of your thighs. 

His tongue tracing patterns over your soft cunt, before sweeping upwards to flick over your clit. He smirks against you when he feels the gentle pulse of your clit under his tongue. He gently inches one of his thick fingers into you, slowly letting you grow accustomed to the feeling. 

He flicks his eyes up your body to see the way your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths of pleasure. 

He crooks his finger inside you,the pads of his finger rubbing against that sweet spot, and when your shallow breaths turn into eager whines he knows he's got you exactly where he wants you. Right on the edge of pleasure, ready to fall off and give everything to him.

The sounds of your pleasure was like music to Steve’s ears, his hips driving themselves into the rumpled mess of the sheets on the bed, searching for any little bit of friction to relieve the straining pressure on his cock.

“You gonna come for me honey? Can feel you clenching around my finger.” 

You nod your head, and with a few more passes of his tongue flicking over your clit, and his finger working inside you, you were coming for him, clinging to his strong arm as you ride out your high, shuddering through your orgasm.

When you come back down to earth, you can’t help but look at the sweet, dopey smile on your boyfriend’s face. The glistening evidence of your pleasure gleaming on his plump pink lips.

“So, how was that?” he smirks as though he didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life.

“Yeah..yeah..it was good..it was really fucking good.” You nod your head quickly. You reach for him to pull him up to meet you, “but I want more.”

“More? I like the sound of that.” he grins, pushing his mussed up hair back with a hand. “Let me just get these off first.” he says, getting up to take off his sweatpants.

He makes a show of it, digging his thumbs into the elastic waistband but keeping his eyes locked with yours as he does it. Teasing you as he shimmies his hips as slowly works them down his thighs and kicks them off around his ankles, like he’s your very own personal exotic dancer. 

“Nice moves, Harrington.” you snort, unable to keep your laughter in.

“If you like that, then I’ve got plenty more moves I can show you, Honey.” he says with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

You can’t help but let your eyes wander down his body, from the cosy thatch of hair on his chest that you had spent countless nights snuggled into, to the constellation of freckles that litter his skin like artwork, following down to the slight soft pudge of his stomach where the hair continues to trail down.

Steve Harrington was fucking huge.

Hard and curved against his stomach, his flushed pink tip peeks out from his closed fist as he works steady strokes up and down the length of his cock.  

There's no way he's going to be able to fit all of that inside me.

“We can take our time, we've got all night, sweetheart.” he kisses away your worries with a sweet kiss.

You ease at his sweet words. Here in his arms you feel safer than you ever have before.

“I'm going to go inside now, you tell me if anything, anything at all, feels weird or you want to stop. I just want you to feel good, baby.”

He guides his tip to your entrance, pressing in inch by inch, stilling his hips to let you become acquainted with the feeling.

You try to ignore the painful burning stretch, to breathe through it, but it hurts. You feel so angry, sad, disappointed, frustrated. You so badly wanted this to work, not only for yourself, but for Steve too. Why did it always have to be such a damn struggle. 

And when Steve sees the look of wincing hesitation that crosses your face, he draws his hips back immediately.

The frustration bubbles over into tears gathering in your eyes.

“Hey, come on now, it's okay.” Steve shushes, brushing your tears away with his thumb. 

“No, it's not, Steve!” You cry. “Any other girl could take you without so much as a second thought, but not me. With me it's always a fucking uphill battle.” finishing with a tired huff.

He holds you close, the warmth of his touch putting you at ease, like holding you close is all he wants to do.

“I don't want any other girl, I want you, and if that means changing things up, then so be it! Besides I think I've got an idea, if you'd be willing to try it, Honey?”

You look at him with wide curious eyes, waiting for him to continue. 

He lines his cock against your wet slit, not pushing inside, but sliding between your lips, his tip bumping against your clit ever so slightly. 

“Just gotta look at things from a different angle, sweets” he smiles down at you from underneath his hair.

“But what about you, don't you want it to be good for you too Stevie?”

“Trust me..this feels..fuck..pretty fucking good to me sweetheart.” he says as he stutters out a breath.

He sheaths himself between your folds, the gentle drag of his cock aided your gathering slickness. Every veiny inch of him rubs along your most sensitive parts, and yet with the way his hips rock into yours you can't deny the flaring heat it spikes in your stomach.

His tip is nudging against your clit on every updrag of his cock, leaving a smearing mess of pre-cum in It's wake. Your own thighs are sticky with your combined evidence of arousal.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, when you start to feel that all-too familiar tingle. The impending high of your orgasm approaching, just within a finger-tips grasp of pleasure. 

“It’s okay honey, I’ll be there to catch you when you fall.” he mutters sweetly in your ears. “I just want you to feel good.”

He ruts his himself between the warmth of your cunt, revelling in the way your walls perfectly hug his sensitive cock, his eyes clenching shut with as his hips slowly rock back and forth.

With a few more smooth thrusts, and his tip repeatedly nudging against your clit you were coming for him with an almost silent cry, clinging to him as you shuddered through the shocks of your high.

Steve soon follows behind you as he falls over the edge with you, spilling his release on your stomach, painting your skin in ropes of pearlescent white, his lips are upon yours as your shared moans are swallowed into tender kisses.

You stay like that for a while just holding each other close, neither one of you quite ready to leave the other’s embrace yet.

“It’s just another point of view, that’s all, Honey.” he smiles sweetly.

Maybe you could come around to looking at things from another point of view.

@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @mrsjellymunson

@aphrogeneias @onegirlmanytales @eddiesxangel @keerysfolklore

[whatbigotspost]

If you hate stuff like Enneagram just skip this post please BUT if you, like me, love this, I have to share my list of hand crafted “hard shit each Enneagram type needs to hear and internalize.” It’s like the heart of each types’ biggest social BS where they need to hear “let go and back off” of something or a challenging thing each type needs to learn to embrace.

I’m sharing it here instead of with people I know irl as they’ll each think it’s about them personally, since I know their types and am always talking about this stuff 😂 but it’s not at all about any 1 human. It’s my personal data tracking at play. After 10 years of being a geek about Enneagram, using it at work and in social spaces, and knowing countless types of my friends and coworkers, my brain can’t help but notice and index some trends. My super power of pattern recognition shows up like this sometimes.

anyway, here’s the hard truths I’ve got to share today!

Type 1: your way isn’t the “right way.” In fact, your way may be dead wrong for others. Your experience isn’t universal and trying to impose it will drive others away. Let go and embrace imperfection and total ambiguity.

Type 2: offers to help are not always welcome or experienced as a gift. Sometimes it’s actually hurtful when you bring a “fixing” mentality. Plus, feeling resentment when your offers are declined is counterproductive to your goals. Let go and embrace a lack of control or “doing.”

Type 3: sometimes you WILL fail and look bad. We all are human. When you let your self perception dip due to the perspectives of others at your humanity, you seem so much smaller and less than you really are. Get comfy being a mess sometimes and stop looking so desperate to save face. Let go and embrace failure.

Type 4: you simply aren’t the center of other folks’ worlds, but that’s actually good news. Most of the time, what others say or do has nothing to do with you and thinking it does, results in more emotional suffering. Let go and embrace the gifts of insignificance and it being not about you.

Type 5: you simply can never know it all and you must accept this. Information brings comfort, but you have to accept that some things have absolutely no “answer” and they can’t be reasoned with or explained by logic. Let go and embrace the potential and beauty within ambiguity.

Type 6: you have everything you need within you to be safe and secure. Continuously turning towards others to find, build, and seek security is risky, like outsourcing your moral compass. You’ve got all you need. Let go and embrace self-assuredness.

Type 7: just feel the goddamn shitty feelings with us for a while. Fun is great but it’s not always possible. Sometimes life genuinely sucks and we need you to sit in that fact and stop trying to see a bright side. Your optimism is needed but not 100% of the time. Let go and embrace reading the room when others need you.

Type 8: take a deep breath, roll your shoulders back, and just chill for a second. Your independence is a super power but you don’t have to fight so hard all of the time and you CAN rest and lean on others. Let go and embrace softness.

Type 9: suck it up, steel your spine, gird your loins, and say the hard thing. Peacekeeping is noble but only when everyone’s needs are actually known. Extreme passivity is as toxic to relationships as aggression when it results in resentments. Let go and embrace self advocacy.

[ignoremeimnothere]

6 Months

I'd just like to preface this SHIT Drabble by saying I'm literally writing in in work so that it doesn't leave my brain. Inspired by my managers friend who literally found out they're 6 months pregnant last week under the same circumstances, praying for you girl. Like all traumatising experiences I like to thing of Pedro handling me in the situation, this one probably made a lot more sense in my head. Let's hope I come back to the to improve it or progress it.

'You’re 6 months pregnant”

You laughed confused, maintaining eye contact with the doctor. 

‘No I’m not’

The room immediately became thick with awkwardness. 

‘The tes-’

‘Is wrong. I’ve got the implant. No bump. No symptoms’

You listed off all the reasons you couldn’t be pregnant. It was only by chance you had required a trip to the doctors. A holiday was booked with your closest friends for next month. You had only come in to get some anti-anxiety medication for the flight you were so scared of, a blood test was routine before you could get it. 

Your doctor’s eyes squinted slightly, trying to figure out how to handle the conversation. You held their gaze refusing to look at anything else, especially Pedro who was beside you completely silent. 

‘The results are yours. We can run another one if you would like but you are 6 months pregnant. 6 and a half to be more precise’ 

Your eyebrows furrowed, the doctor started a spiel you couldn’t quite focus on. They provide you with a few pregnancy tests to use in the bathroom. You leave to do them alone, you haven’t looked at Pedro since the doctor dropped the bombshell that was obviously- 

‘Positive’ Both tests displayed strong second lines as you felt the blood drain from your head. 

~

Pedro shut your car door as he makes his way to the other side. You haven’t said a word since returning from the bathroom tests in hand. He gets into the driver's side but can’t bring himself to turn on the engine just yet. Your head is completely blank, normally you would spiral but the shock has prolonged that still. 

‘Are you ok’ 

You can barely shake your head, you finally look at him. ‘Are you?’ 

Deafening silence fills the car. You’ve no idea how much time has passed before Pedro eventually begins the drive home. You’re completely spaced out until you approach your street. 

‘I don’t want to go home’

‘Ok baby, where do you want to go’ 

Pedro reduces his speed dramatically giving you time to think. 

‘I think I need to be alone’ You blurt out. 

‘Ok’ Pedro maintains his calm demeanour, attempting to regulate the panic he watched creep into your eyes.

‘Is that ok’ A lump appears in your throat. 

‘Can you be alone in the house?’

 He proposes a safe compromise but you shake your head, your breath catching in your throat. 

‘In the car’ Another suggestion.

You shake your head unbuckling your seatbelt before Pedro has reached your home. He calls your name, a gentle warning to not do anything dangerous. 

‘I think I just…. I need to….’ You struggle to figure out what you need to do. 

‘Breathe with me’ Pedro parked the car and unbuckled himself, twisted towards you he grabs your hands, pecking them before meeting your eye. 

‘It’s ok’ He begins. ‘You can be alone but I need you safe, do you want me to take you somewhere?’ You shake your head. ‘Ok baby but I don’t think now would be the best time for you to drive a car, do you want me to leave?’ You shake your head again.

‘I’ll take a walk?’ You suggest, it was a cloudy day making it quite quiet.

‘Ok Cariño, do you have your phone on you?’

You nod, checking your pocket. He kisses you on the cheek, unsatisfied he gently grabs your face planting a lingering kiss on your lips. You rest your forehead on his having a silent conversation. You would clear your head, come back and have the conversation. For now you needed to take in everything. You swallowed your guilt for needing to be alone, wishing that you could instead process this beside Pedro. You leave before you suffocate on the silent questions lingering in the car and make your way down the street wondering how the hell your life had changed so much within the space of an hour.

[bodyswapmischief]

Andrew's Holiday Part 1 (An interactive story)

Part 2 Part 3

"Fine! Maybe I won't fucking come home for Christmas!" Andrew hung up and threw his phone on his bed. His heart was racing. His hands were shaking. The whole world around him felt loud and bright. The panic that sat within him before the phone call did not leave him. Even now, with the call over, he felt worse. He could feel his body begin to react to stress like it always had. His blood pulsed. He began to sweat. Every neuron was firing in his brain. All of them were telling the brain the same thing. "There is something in us, and it needs to be out of us." His stomach began to bubble, and a sour taste began to coat his mouth. He jolted to the trash can by his bed, as everything in his stomach came out. Tears began to stream down his face with each convulsion of vomit.

"What's wrong, Andy?" A voice came from behind him. Shame washed throughout Andrew's body. "Go! I don't want you to see me like this!" He tried to yell. But, Oscar's presence just added to the anxiety in this moment, and Andrew threw up again.

"Are you sick! Do you need anything?" Oscar called out again. "I was just coming back from class and heard..." Oscar stammered, not knowing what to do in this moment. "Leave!" Andrew cried out in the corner. His back turned away from Oscar. He could still feel the uneasiness of his stomach. His body shook as he cried.

Oscar let out a sigh. "No ... Andy! I'm not gonna leave. I'm your boyfriend and I want to be here for you." Oscar knelt beside Andrew and began to rub his back. "I'll be here ... I'll be quiet. I'll let you process. Just let me know if you..." Before Oscar could finish, Andrew turned around. His head sank into Oscar's chest, and he let the tears rush out.

The two sat there for sometimes, as the tears of Andrew face began to dry. His nose clogged, and his eyes puffy red. He sighed, feeling like he could finally breathe. He felt so safe in Oscar's arms. He couldn't believe he got lucky enough to be paired with him in freshman year as roommates. How they spent every day together. The shared anxiety they had not knowing if the other was gay. But, now it was sophomore year, and they were committed to each other. And Oscar was proving it, in this moment. However, comforting Oscar was, Andrew felt like he didn't deserve it.

"I came out to my dad today ... it didn't go well." Andrew pushed himself away. The shaky anxiety could still be heard in his voice. And, his body plops onto his bed. Oscar follows him and sits at his side. "I'm sorry ..." Oscar grabbed Andrew's hand and began to rub it. "He was mad, of course, but also in denial ... Between cussing me out, he'd throw in talks about me coming home and him fixing me and taking me to therapy and getting me through this phase. So, I told him I'm not coming home."

Oscar shook his head with a pit of disgust in his stomach. "That's sick. Wow, I don't even know to say ..." He lies down next to Tyler and pulls him close to his body. "He's wrong, tho ... you know that, right? There is nothing wrong with you. You ... us ... we are prefect." Oscar gives Andrew a reassuring squeeze.

Why is Oscar so prefect? Is all Andrew could think about at this moment. "Yeah, I know that." Andrew finally smiles and rests his face against Oscar's chest. "You know ... my offer is still out there. You could come home with me for the holidays. My parents would love to meet you. And, I could help with any fees to change your ticket this late." Oscar turns onto his back. Excitement is clearly ringing from his voice.

Andrew turns on his back as well and weighs his options. Spending time with Oscar would he nice. Meeting his family could be interesting. But, is he really not going to go home? Would he punish his mother just because of his father. His mom has been accepting of him ever since he came out to her in high school. And, then all his friends would be there. He'd find ways to ignore his dad. But, maybe he just needed time alone. He could stay on campus and just spend time to think. Think about who he was without family or a boyfriend. He loved Oscar, but there was always this feeling of not being good enough for him. Maybe some time apart could help him with these feelings.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #325

I'm definitely going to need to send my laptop away to get the screen replaced; it has seen much better days:

It's still kinda holding together. But there are lines of dead pixels on the bottom left side, so I imagine it's only a matter of time before the screen goes completely kaput. Lame...

I wasn't nearly as productive today as on previous days. I think doing all that cooking and all those dishes really pissed off whatever's wrong with the upper right quadrant of my body (at this point, I suspect serratus posterior superior dysfunction of some kind...). When I went to PT today (weird day of the week for it, I know...), the trapezius and the rhomboids on my right side got mashed up, and now the whole area is super pissed, and it's kinda hard to move or breathe or do anything.

On the bright side, I did get to talk with that Canadian immigration lawyer today. I'll tell you all about him, but after I get his permission to do so in this space.

Still, I have the first few steps of the process of getting out of here outlined. First, we have to take an English test called an IELTS, and also get our academic credentials evaluated by a Canadian company of some kind, in order to make sure they're up to snuff for Canadian employers.

Well, as it turns out, we cannot take the IELTS without passports. And, though J and I have ours, M's expired over a decade ago, so we had to go to an appointment to get a new one. It's not going to get to our house for another 6-8 weeks, though. We'll have to wait before we schedule the test. But we should be able to get our academic credentials evaluated. I'll look into that process tomorrow.

...I forgot to eat for most of today. Before leaving for physical therapy, I did stuff a couple slices of cold cuts into my mouth, but that's hardly substantial. My appetite has been kinda weird these last couple days. At around 7pm or 8pm, though, I remembered that my body needs fuel. So I made a salad:

It's got mixed greens, tomatoes, onions, black beans, goat cheese, scrambled egg, and crushed Fritos in it. And then I put ranch dressing on top. Want some...?

I made some tea to go with it; that vanilla bean macaron tea. Here:

...These aren't the best swirls, I know. I think the focus must have been off, and I didn't notice until it was too late. Sorry about that.

…

...I spent most of the rest of today just floundering, partially numb, and foggy of brain. I wanted to play Oddworld, but... I just couldn't bring myself to. I wanted to doodle, but... I dunno. Even with a plan spelled out and things to tentatively look forward to, it's still kinda hard to think.

I guess I'm still a little sad that so many people voted for someone who wants to kill me and my little family and almost all of the people I love.

...I just... want to live a life in which everyone gets to be happy and safe. And I know that this could happen if everyone worked together, but there's so many different people with so many different kinds of trauma, and all of them have their own ideas about which kinds of people do and don't deserve to live (there's no such thing as a person who doesn't deserve to live). I wish for a world in which it was easier for folks to cast aside the conditioning they received that teaches them to associate the worth of themselves and of others with silly, arbitrary things.

We are all the same in that we want to live in peace with people we love. And given that everyone wants that, it shouldn't be so hard to do, but... a lot of people get taught that the only way they can live happily is if some other group of people defined by arbitrary characteristics didn't exist, and... I think that's really sad. It's really sad that some people truly do believe, for example, that the only way they can be happy and safe is if every single person with dark skin and every single person who was ever at any point related to someone with dark skin ceased being alive.

...I just wanna live someplace where we aren't near people who would be happy to kill us. I think everyone wants that. And this shouldn't be a difficult thing to find in my world, but... here we are.

...Well. One step at a time. We'll follow the immigration process one step at a time, and hope for good things. But... ya know. If there's any chance you can just “zoop” us all over to where you are... I certainly wouldn't be opposed. You could use the company. And I could use a nap.

No, I know; it's impossible. I know. But it's still nice to think about. I'll just keep making preparations to protect my little family, and I'll do whatever I can for the others around me in the meantime. I'll write the steps to the immigration process as we go through it; maybe it'll help someone else, somehow.

Suppose I'll stop writing for today. I feel like if I keep going, I'm gonna ramble on ya (if I haven't already). And I feel like I'm a bit too weird in the brain right now to express myself particularly well in any case.

Don't worry. I'm tired and feeling kinda sad and lost, but I'm not down for the count – not while I have people to protect.

Tomorrow is when M and I decided to celebrate our wedding anniversary this year. It'll be our 10th year of marriage, though we've been together for 12. I can't believe how quickly the time has passed. I can't believe he hasn't gotten tired of me yet, hahaha...

We're gonna go to a sushi place to celebrate. It'll be me and J and M all together at the place we ate on the day we got married. Maybe I'll tell you more about that tomorrow.

I love you a whole lot. And I'll write again tomorrow. So please stay safe out there, okay?

Your friend, Lumine

[justxrandomxlivia]

Your new Partner König

Masterlist part two - König x fem!reader - Enemies to more

Summary: After sneaking into a terrorist base, you are overwhelmed by König, a mountain of a man. Is he your enemy or indeed an ally?

Warnings: Mention of weapons, mention of wounds, overall fluff

Word count: 3502

AN: This story was originally based of the first two episodes of the König series of MINTS. Go and check it out! Also, for this story will come 100% more parts - so stay tuned. ^^

„Y/n. Stay low profile. We don’t want to draw to much attention.” – “Copy that. See you on the other side. Stay safe Farah.” After I made my call, I move further through the tunnels. According to the plan, I should reach the end soon. Slowly approaching the gate that leads to the base of the terrorists, I can hear only my own footsteps as I walk through little water puddles. I try to open the gate, but it’s locked. Alright, quick breaking through move. I clipped my gun away and reached for a crowbar. I must do this as quite as possible. Adjusting the angle, and “CRACK!”.

I’ve placed the crowbar back at my bag pack and took my gun once again. I stepped through the gate, closing it behind me and turning to the right. I should get this way to the building, collecting the information I need. Just as I turned right, someone comes from behind, I spun around firing my gun, but it got ripped out my hand in an instant, then I fell to the ground, with my face first. My arms are quickly tied up on my back. “FUCK!” I yelled and tried to lift my legs to grip the attacker. I reached to the neck, but the attacker gripped my feet with an ease, pushing them down and tying them together. I wiggled and tried to hit the person with my head. But the attacker pushed me down to the ground, now facing to the sky, I saw a man standing over me. Way taller than Ghost. My breath stuck. He has a black sniper hood hiding his face and he is huge! “Stop squirming! You will just hurt yourself.” He said casually down to me, he bends down and shut my mouth with duct tape. Then he packed me by the waist and lifted me on his shoulder, carrying me across the camp.

After roughly 5 minutes getting carried all over the entire place, I felt how my guts are in the wrong places. Everything hurt and there was too much blood in my brain, what made me feel dizzy. Mister three meters tall finally let me down. He dropped me on a chair in a big room where was one single light. It was nearly impossible to tell how big the room was, it was just too dark. He placed my hands behind the chair and tied my feet to the chair. Then he took my bag, weapons and other devices and placed them on a small table near the shadow. Not taking off the duct tape from my mouth he spoke with a calm voice. “I’ll let you rest now a little. Let’s chat later. There are many things I’d love to talk about.” With this he left the room and as it sounded, there was another person leaving as well. And to my joy, they turned off the only light. It was pitch black now.

“Shit. Ah, I’m sorry Farah, I fucked up.” I mumbled as I started to loosen my wrists from the rope. It won’t move, but I continued even though I felt the pain in my wrists already rising. After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open, and the light got turned on. Squeezing my eyes because I turned blind on an instant.

“So. How are you doing?” Slowly opening my eyes again, I see him. He is standing a little in the shadow, but enough in the light. He is so damn huge. And I don’t mean only his height. He is built like a bulldozer. There was no way I could have won against him earlier. If he would just stand there and somebody else would interrogate me, I would be terrified. But his voice is way too kind. He sounds as if he doesn’t even plan to hurt me. Also, he didn’t really hurt me outside. Why did he not just knock me out. There is something wrong with him. Maybe he is a spy? He suddenly stomped to me and grabbed me by my shoulder, pushing me back, so that the chair lifted off. “Don’t pretend that you are not scared. I will make you fear being any longer alive.” He let go of me and walked away again. There was another person in the corner again, I don’t see much, but there is clearly somebody standing. Short after my attacker walked away, he placed a chair in front of me and sat down. I can’t see his eyes, it’s too damn dark here. But I’m sure he is as scary as Ghost is. I guess all masked guys are like that.

“You know how they call me?” He asked amused. I shook my head. I can’t even speak mate. I have still duct tape on my mouth! He then leaned closer and whispered in my ear: “König.” It took me a moment to realise, Oh shit. It’s him. My blood froze. This big man with the sniper hood. Why didn’t I come to the realisation earlier. Ghost told me about him. He worked with him once. Long time ago, he told me, that this huge man was called König. King in German. And that even Ghost himself was terrified of König. And that psycho is now sitting right in front of me. I couldn’t get better, right?

“You heard of me. I see.” He moved back in his chair. “I’m sure my old friend Ghost told you a little about me. Anyway, speaking of Ghost. That’s why you are here.” He paused and moved his chair closer. He leaned over to me, with his head next to my ear, he whispered slowly: “Where is Simon Riley aka Ghost. Be a good little sweetheart and tell me. Otherwise, I don’t see an option, but using that knife in my right hand. So, what do you say? Should I take the tape off, and we have a nice little chat?” I nodded slowly. He moved away once more and ripped the tape off my mouth. “So where is Ghost?” He asked once again. I just smiled at him. Not that fast big man.

I leaned over to him and smiled devilish. “Could you do that again, but this time with your hands between my legs. You just unlocked a new kink for me, big boy.” He jumped back and before I could realise anything, he pressed the duct tape over my mouth again. Ah shit.

Ghost told me that König has severe anxiety issues. If you talk back to him or invade his personal space. He gets ‘uneasy’. It worked. A little. “If you talk garbage like that, you won’t come out here that easy. You know that.” He spoke louder. Then he was leaving the room once again, the shadow person followed him. My time to continue on those damn ropes, but this time he wasn’t gone that long. König slammed the door open. “Alright” he says, coming to me. “Your last chance. Tell me where Ghost is, and you can go. Or don’t tell me where he is, and I’ll make your life a nightmare.” He sat down in front looking me dead in the eyes. Realising that he entered the room alone this time, I nodded again. He hesitated but removed the tape once more. “I thought we were clear how things are going Farah.” He whispered at me, before I even got a chance to speak, the shadow person entered the room. König cleared his throat and spoke loud to me: “If you push your luck, I will cut you to pieces. Are we clear!”

Damn, I was confused but played along. I nodded. He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “So, where is the last location you have seen Simon Riley?” he asked once again. His voice sounds more and more annoyed. I took a deep breath, and looked at him with burning eyes: “Last location I saw him? In my bed, on top of me, sir.” I giggled; does he really think I would tell him where my team is, I never heard of any plan, but he must think I’m Farah, did she actually betray us? König sighed in disappointment. “I hoped you would make it not that hard for us. But that was your choice.” He drew a knife and started to cut my arm, not deep, not much. But it hurts even more than a real cut. I tried to push him away with my shoulder, but I was fixated to the chair, struggling was helping nothing. Realising that the shadow person left again, König stopped abruptly. He leaned to me and whispered. “What are you doing? We have orders.” He literally hissed at me like an angry cat. I was so mad, I would like to punch him in the face. Or anything. Why would Farah do that.

The door flew open, and a big man entered the room. König jumped back in his role: “Stop squirming. You can’t get out of here. You choose it, so take it like a man.” He laughed at me. “I’m a woman! Vollidiot”! (Big idiot) I yelled at him. He suddenly froze and looked at me in shock. “What? Never heard a woman speak German before?” Now it was me who was laughing. Indeed, I knew some German. I had to work with the German special forces three years ago, they taught me mainly bad words, but practical. König shook his head and wanted to say something, but the big man in the back interrupted him. “How is going. Does bitch talk?” König turned around and answered. “Yes, last location they saw Ghost was North to the old Hospital. They had a camp there.” The other man laughed. “Perfect. You, kill her. We take look there.” With this he left.

“What? I never told you anything!” I yelled at König, who was putting his knife away. He then pulled some first aid stuff out of his bag and applied a cream and a bandage to my wound. “What are you doing?! Fucking Hell! Are you dumb!” I yelled at him. He then placed his face close to mine and whispered, “You are not Farah, right? You are y/n. Ghost should have told me he changed the plan. Anyway, Scream a little louder now and when I shoot, you’ll be quite. Don’t do anything stupid. We are on the same team.” He walked away and pulled out a gun. He pointed it not at me, but to the left. I had to believe him for now, he told this man false information and want to help me. So I must trust him. Even if I don’t want to. I nodded and started screaming like hell. “No! Fuck you! I told you what you wanted to hear! Let me go!!” then he shot twice into a bag to the left. I stopped screaming and waited for him to do anything.

He untied my feet and hands and pointed to my stuff back on a small table. “We will leave now. Hurry up.” He said as he opened the door. Quickly I packed my stuff and loaded the gun. “Ready to go” I whispered, standing behind him. Let’s stay calm and focused. If he tries to take me down, I’ll shoot him this time for good. He nods, “Stay quite.” He whispered back as we left the room and entered an even darker hallway where nobody was seen. He checks left and right, then signed me to stay close. With him leading the way, it was impossible for me to see anything, because he was just so big and blocked all view. We moved quietly and quickly. He pointed to a door, signing me to get through as he stood with his back against it, eyes on the hallway area. I wanted to open the door. “Shit, it’s locked.” I hissed. König looked down to me. “Picking takes too long. Keep your eyes on the hallway.” He said and we quickly changed places. With half an eye, I looked what he was doing. He put his gun away and took a deep breath. Then he slammed his shoulder against the door. With a loud crack, it broke open. That wasn’t even half of his force. No wonder I didn’t had a chance. Actually, I could take him out now, he is unarmed, I have the gun. I let out a sigh and shook my head at this thought. Then I got through the door, König followed me now. He pats me on the shoulder, pointing to a van in the distance, then to the left and the front, signing me, I’m supposed to scan there as he scanned right and back. I gave a thump up and made my way to the van.

Finally reaching it, König grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. He was standing right in front of me, looking down on me, as a king would do to his unworthy soldiers. He wanted to say something, but I cut him off. “Don’t even think about it. I’m driving. You make sure nobody follows.” I hissed at him, he hesitated but agreed. Driving off the terrorist camp, I pulled out my radio device: “This is Racoon. To all callsigns, does any one copy?” No response. “Team, this is Racoon. Does anyone copy?” I repeated my question. Nothing. “Racoon is your callsign?” König asked me hesitantly. I took a quick look at him, then focused back on the road. “Yes. The German special force gave me the German form of Racoon. I tried to tame a racoon family near the river where we were camping. With success, not lying.” I told him proudly, now he knows I worked with the Germans, that will come in handy, maybe.

He chuckled: “So you were called, Waschbär? What a horrible callsign.” He giggled more. “What? It’s a cool callsign. Better than König. Or ghost.” I protested. “What about Soap?” He asked. “Soap?” I looked at him again quickly. “His callsign is fitting quite well to mine, don’t you think?” I giggled at my dumb answer, and so did König. “I’m sorry I had to hurt you. It was necessary to make the terrorists believe that you talked.” He spoke with a quiet voice. “So, you said you are on my side? Why nobody mentioned you are, or why did I never meet you? Why did Farah was involved but didn’t warn me before entering the tunnels?” still a little unsure if I really should trust him, I tried to get some answers from him. But König didn’t answer. A we reached the little town I looked at him again, “Hey, Johannes? I asked a question.” He froze and faced me with big eyes. Guess I shocked him a little. I giggled loud. “Why did you call me that?” He asked with a trembling voice, I just laughed at him. “I’m going to call you from today on every possible name, until I got yours right. Sounds like fun. Don’t you think?” I parked the car near an old store. There were plenty of abandoned cars we could ‘borrow’. Sorry to the owner. “What if I don’t tell you when you got my name right?” König asked me while looking away. I giggled at him, “Then I’ll be mad.” and left the car. He followed me. We both stayed low and scanned the area, as we walked towards a black jeep. Best choice for now.

We hopped in the jeep, and what a miracle, the keys were laying on the drivers seat. Horrible what happened to the people here. I shook my head and started the car. Nobody was following us, we didn’t meet anyone as we broke out, and I don’t get any calls over radio. Knowing the parameter, I drove towards the forest. There I will get out of the car and run. When I got rid of König, I’ll make my way to a near hideout. As I drove out of the town, I knew, I can’t trust him. This was all too easy. König didn’t say anything more. And he didn’t look my way anymore either. After 15 minutes of killing silence I parked the car near the forest way and left it. König followed me. Now it’s time to act quickly. As he was taking his gun out of the car I walked over to him and dropped the keys. “Ah damn, could you be so kind?” I asked, pretending I tied my hair up, he bowed down to pick them up, as I turned on my heels and started running. No turning back, just running. I need to get away from him.

I ran as far as possible, square through the forest, sadly my lungs were about to collapse after 10 minutes already. To be fair, running was never my strength. Slowing down, I turned around and was glad to see nobody. Then I picked a big tree and started to climb it. So I could recover from running and check if König was following me. Sitting on the tree I was breathing quietly, listening to the surroundings. I heard and saw nothing. That was good news. 10 minutes passed and I got down from the tree again. I checked once more the area and then instead of running, I sneaked a little bit. Checking my location and compass, I knew I had to turn right, but then suddenly: “And why do you think you could run away from me?” A strong hand grabbed my shoulder and a deep voice spoke angry in my ear. “Fuck.” I cursed. How did he find me. And how silent can that mountain of a man sneak? I didn’t hear him anywhere nearby. As I turned around, I received a radio call “Racoon, this is Ghost. How copy?” I looked at König and he looked at me. I let out a deep and long sigh, but answered calmly. “Ghost, this is Racoon. We have an unpleasant situation.” – “Unpleasant? Your whole disappearance was fucking unpleasant. Thought your dead. Soap has run circles in the floor tiles. Get your ass to base now. And stop playing hide and seek with König. He got his damn orders.” With ghost being obviously mad, I answered protesting. “So you knew he was spying at the terrorist camp? How about inviting me into the plan as well, when you damn send me through the tunnels instead of Farah!” Ghost didn’t answer anything.

I sighed and looked back at König. “Alright, Martin. Lead the way to the road.” My hand gesturing in the forest. König only shook his head. “Not Martin.” He said walking ahead of me, giggling quietly. “You are quite chatty for someone with severe social anxiety.” I spoke, while trying to step on his heels, I got him at least three times. “Could you stop doing that?” He asked, stopped abruptly and turned around. I was so focused, I didn’t realise he stopped, so I just ended up bumping into his chest and almost lost balance, falling back. He suddenly grabbed me and pulled me closer to him. My hands against his chest, his hands holding my shoulders. I looked up at him, he looked down. Time stops moving, everything was quiet. All I saw where his eyes, focusing on my eyes. It felt like an eternity as we just stood, holding each other and saying nothing.

Then he cleared his voices. “Do-do you-“ he stuttered, looking left and right next to me. “Do you think. We…. We c-could.” I guess this is the anxiety Ghost was talking about. But he wasn’t nervous the whole time. Why now? I tilted my head a little bit and smiled at him. Maybe it helps him to calm down. “Yeah?” I asked. He still couldn’t look in my eyes. Then he spoke a little above a whisper. “Do you. Think. We. C-could. B-be-become friends?” he was clearly embarrassed. Actually, he’s cute. So big and so shy. I chuckled and leaned a little more against him. “I’d love to be friends with you, Peter.” He just rolled his eyes and pushed me away. Then he turned around and continued walking. “Not Peter.” He spoke. I laughed. “How about Nick?” – “No.” – “Erik?” – “Stop it, Waschbär-Frau.” I frowned at his comment. “Racoon woman? More like Racoon Whisperer. Mighty Racoon Whisperer.” I giggled over my new name. König chuckled too. He tried to do it quietly, but I heard him. Knowing that he is no threat, I finally could relax around him. I think we will get along. I’m sorry to say, but maybe it was meant to be that I ended up in Farahs position. I was able to meet König in a way, I wouldn’t had otherwise. A little tickle in my belly grew, I’m looking forward to what will come.

[acciotherapists]

Far From Home (Chapter 63: A Dying Universe)

Loki x Reader

Y/n Y/l/n never thought her past would come back to find her. After all who would look for her on Midgard? But one day in the small town of Puento Antiguo her world is turned upside down when an old friend turns up, threatening everything she has built and the people she’d fought so hard to protect. What happens when the life she left behind finally catches up with her? What happens when the old flame she thought had burned out reignites within her?

My brain felt fuzzy as I woke, trying to take in my surroundings.

“She’s waking up.” I heard Wanda’s voice… no, not Wanda… her. The witch. I wasn’t safe at home, sleeping in my bed. The arms around my body felt strange. They weren’t Loki’s. They weren’t home. I stirred, moving in the strange embrace, unsure of what… or who was holding me. My eyes fluttered open, locking onto the figure above me. Stephen Strange. Suddenly the memories fell into place. Wanda’s voice in my head, the eyes that were no longer hers. I stumbled away from Stephen, breathing heavily as I tried to get my bearings.

“Darling-.”

“Shut up!” I hissed, interrupting him. 

Wanda was watching me carefully as I fought back my tears. “Did you let them go?” I asked her and she nodded.

“So long as you keep your end of the deal… they will remain unharmed.”

I nodded, sighing as I realized this was now my life. “Care to give me a tour?” I looked around. “This place looks different from the sanctum I’m familiar with.”

“I suppose that’s what happens when a world is destroyed,” he said sadly, looking around the crumbling sanctum.

“I want to rest… It's been ages since I’ve been able to sleep without being afraid.” In reality I wanted to sleep to try and communicate with my friends back home.

He seemed sad as he looked up at me. “You were afraid?”

I scoffed. “You manipulated my dreams… sent me to a dying universe. What did you expect?”

He said nothing; he simply signaled to Wanda to bring me upstairs.

She led me to a room that clearly belonged to someone else but I said nothing. I have to get home. 

“Do you think… in time… you’ll learn to like it here?”

I looked up at the witch as she spoke, noting the dark circles under her eyes, the fear within them.

I shrugged. “Perhaps.”

The witch opened the door, leading me into an unfamiliar bedroom. “Stephen thought you might want your own room for a bit… to adjust. When you’re ready you’ll move into his room.”

“I’ll never be ready,” I spat.

I could see tears forming in her eyes and I sighed. “I’m sorry… it’s just… you have to understand how difficult this is for me. I left my home… my family… the man I love.”

She sighed.

“I loved him, Wanda. I get that that’s not what you want to hear but it’s true. I spent years running… trying to keep him safe, and we were finally back together. I get that you want me to fall in love with Stephen but I didn’t love him in my universe. Our relationship was simply that of a friend, nothing more.” My eyes lock with hers. “You chose the wrong Y/n. Out of all the options… why choose me? The one who wasn’t in love with any version of Stephen Strange?”

She smiled, seeming lost in the memory. “He knew it would be difficult… we looked for years… but of all the versions we found… you were the one we chose.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “You were the one he fell in love with… and when I saw the way you protected the Wanda from your universe… it reminded me of our Y/n.”

“You know this can’t last… this universe won’t last forever. It’s crumbling around us.”

“Stephen is holding it together for now… and when the time comes… we’ll make a home somewhere else. We’re the Scarlet and Sapphire Witches. There’s nothing we can’t solve.”

“I’m not the Sapphire Witch!” I hiss.

She flinches and I take a breath, calming myself.

“I’d like to rest… alone.”

She nods and makes her way toward the door. “The door locks from the inside… you’re not a prisoner here.”

With that she leaves the room and I quickly lock the door behind her. I make my way toward the bed, crawling beneath the covers. Wind whipped against the windows before settling to a quiet hum and I closed my eyes, praying to whoever might be listening that I dreamed of something useful.

************

Taglist:

@nelachu2423

@purplekitten30

@lokisprettygirl22

@huntress-artemiss

@lokis-little-love

@lokis-tigress

@the-archangel-in-asgard

@crimson25

@thedistractedagglomeration

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

I am so excited about all of you fics and can’t wait to see the next chapters from each of them!!!

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮 (Oh cranberry!!!)

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸 (Oh OH and to think it was Eddie I was worried about I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!!!)

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(Im not so patiently waiting for Eddie and Maddie and Chris to make it Sunport… Also I love how you had Bathena meet and I’m excited to see them develop)

🔮��🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮 (Intervening universe made me cry and I’m not ready for when Buck and Bobby actually talk)

HEY!!!!! Thank you so much!

So I posted Cranberry. Is there 30 of something else I can do for ya?

Here are the rest!

30 for 🩸 (YEAH SORRY I THOUGHT IT WASN'T GONNA BE SURPRISING BUT GLAD IT WAS):

---

After Eddie leaves Chris, he finds Maddie and Sophia wearing twin expressions of distress. Truly, the disappointed, peeved expressions of two sisters - one of whom isn’t even his - might just be too much for him to stomach. He’s kind of terrified. 

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks. “Apart from the obvious.”

“He took all the keys,” Sophia says. “Every single set of car keys. What the hell did he do that for?”

Eddie thinks of May collapsing. 

“He doesn’t want me behind the wheel.” He presumes. “In case he kills her. My heart will stop.” 

“Oh my god,” Maddie sighs. 

“Can we take your car?” Eddie asks. 

Maddie nods. “We’ll have to.” 

He follows her and Sophia out into the driveway, locking the door behind him. He climbs into the front passenger seat of Maddie’s sedan. Sophia slides into the back. 

“So,” Maddie says. “Where am I going?”

“Long Beach,” Eddie says. 

“We have to search all of Long Beach for him?” Sophia replies. “Nothing more specific.”

“She works at the Promenade, she lives in MacArthur Park.” Eddie replies.

---

42 for 🧟 (hehehehe very soon!):

---

It is a big deal, though. It’s a big deal to Eddie. 

He gets this stupid idea in his brain. Really, he knows it’s stupid. Born more out of desperation than real logic. But here Maddie is, this chance encounter he made and had the opportunity to save. He did it, didn’t he? He saved her. And she likes his kid. She’s good with him. She has somewhere potentially safe to go. 

Maybe Maddie would do it. Maybe she’d take care of Chris for him, while he looks for Shannon. Maybe she’d keep him safe, her and her brother. Not forever. Just for a little while. 

Eddie needs to leave his son with someone he can trust. And he thinks he can trust Maddie. 

▪️▪️▪️

When they’re finally far enough away from the scene of their near devouring, Eddie pulls over off the side of the highway. He lifts Chris out of the backseat and holds him tight, wrapping him up as if Eddie is a weighted blanket, until his breathing and his heart rate are normal again. 

“I was so scared, Daddy,” Chris complains quietly. 

“I know, buddy. I’m sorry you were scared. You’re safe now.” 

But he’s not. Not really. Eddie can say it all he likes. He can be determined to make it true. But it isn’t. Not yet.

They take a long enough break to stretch their legs and collect themselves. They pee in a push. They drink and eat from what little Eddie has in the truck. Then it’s time to get going again. Based on the map, Eddie estimates they only have a little under two hours left. Nothing, really, in the quest for safety and reuniting Maddie with her brother. 

They check the radio again as they get closer. There’s still no signal. He sees the worry blossoming on Maddie’s face, though she tries to remain positive. There’s nothing more Eddie can say to comfort her. He feels badly about that. But they both know the only thing that will quell the anxiety is an answer. 

---

30 for 🔮(well we are getting right to the actual talking here):

---

He has his own issues with both of them, of course. Deep, painful ones that have left profound scars. But Bobby genuinely doesn’t know what it feels like to suspect that your parents don’t love you, and have their every action prove you right. He actually can’t imagine how that would have changed things for him. How much harder it would have all been. 

“It’s fine, Bobby,” Buck says, when he sees him struggling to articulate his thoughts. “It was a long time ago.”

No. No, it’s not fine at all. It’s the opposite of fine. 

Bobby shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Buck asks.

“Buck, just let me…” Bobby sighs. “If I have ever made you feel the way they made you feel, I’m sorry.”

Buck’s eyes bulge, face awash with anxiety. He doesn’t reply. 

“If I did, it wasn’t intentional. It didn’t come from the same place. And I hate that… God, I saw you, just a kid… I hate that I couldn’t…” 

Fix it for him? Whisk him away? He doesn’t really know. 

“It’s not your responsibility, Bobby,” Buck says quietly. “You can’t… It’s not your fault I let myself get carried away.”

[greenbergwrites]

Green. I’m a starved man. I’ve been rereading your post about Steve and Etienne being feral and Bucky trying to take care of them. If you have anything in your beautiful brain about that to continue off of. I think I’d cry. Love and appreciate you for everything you do and have done <3

Real talk, the original story I’ve been trying to write all year has been a feral!Omega plot inspired by that very post. [I even kept the name Etienne for one of the minor characters 😂]

Feral!Omega is apparently my new fixation and I regret nothing. 

So yes, I will happily continue that story for you.

Original post here for anyone who needs a reminder.

–

The feral Omega can walk out of his cage under his own steam. His companion, still as quiet as ever, cannot. Along with whatever injury has him bleeding, there appears to be something wrong with his foot. 

Bucky kneels beside the boy, permitted reluctantly by his protector, pursing his lips as he looks it over. The feral Omega hovers just over his shoulder, that warning little grumble-hiss still in every breath he takes. Should Bucky do or say the wrong thing, he has no doubt the Omega will attack.

He tries to keep himself and his scent as calming as possible, but it’s not easy. The boy’s foot is bent at an unnatural angle and seeing such an injury on an Omega makes him want to rage. His anger would accomplish nothing but agitating the feral Omega and potentially scaring the silent one, so he tamps it down as best he can.

The Omega is too dirty for him to figure out of it’s an old injury that’s healed wrong or a newer one that can be more easily fixed. Either possibility is unacceptable–angled like it is, it has to be causing the Omega pain.

“We’ll get this fixed up in no time,” he murmurs to the boy, keeping his voice soft and soothing. “For now, will you permit me to carry you?”

The Omega blinks up at him with those big, blue eyes. There is an air of vulnerability to most Omegas, but it’s more intense with this one. His gaze is so open, so sad. Bucky wants to find everyone who’s responsible for that expression and hurt them slowly.

The Omega nods silently.

Carefully, Bucky scoops him up. The boy is so light, it’s almost sickening. He pauses, giving himself a moment to rest his cheek on the boy’s hair.

No one else will hurt you, he vows silently. 

He promised it aloud already, and he’s sure that neither of them believed him. He won’t fail them, though. He will make sure they’re safe.

The feral Omega vibrates with tension, as if wants to snatch his companion from Bucky’s arms and carry the boy himself. As small as the other Omega is, Bucky isn’t sure he’d succeed, though. Perhaps that’s what stops him.

“Follow me,” Bucky tells the feral one, his voice still soft. 

It doesn’t soothe this one quite like it soothes the Omega in his arms, but it doesn’t seem to hurt, either.

Outside, the rain hasn’t slowed. Most of the vehicles are gone now, as are most of the humans. Two black trucks and a single ambulance remain, all three parked near what appears to be a triage tent near the entrance to the warehouse. The Enforcer that guided Bucky inside is standing near it, holding open the flap to allow them inside.

The feral Omega darts forward, putting himself between the Enforcer and Bucky, snarling loud enough to be heard over the storm. It doesn’t seem to register to him that he’s being drowned by the rain.

Bucky sighs softly, shifting the Omega in his arms as he approaches their little bodyguard. He lets his fingers brush over the feral one’s damp arm.

“Enough,” he chides. “Get in the tent so we can all get out of the rain.”

The Omega glares at him, but after a glance to his companion, he reluctantly obeys. 

Inside, the tent is set up with a gurney, two chairs, and a rudimentary set of medical supplies. It’s also empty.

The Enforcer comes in behind them, letting the flap shut behind him.

“You said they don’t like humans,” he said, “but all the medical personnel on site are human. I have some training, but unless they’ll allow the others in, it’s all we have.”

Bucky nodded. “I think we can make do with the two of us.”

It takes quite a bit of coaxing, and more promises of safety from Bucky, but the feral Omega allows the Enforcer to help his companion. Bucky can take care of their superficial wounds, but the foot requires more training than he has. 

By the time Bucky’s found cleaned and bandaged their cuts, the Enforcer has cleaned the silent Omega’s foot and examined it. Now that the dirt is gone, Bucky can see that his foot is swollen and red, making the injury new.

He hates how relieved he is about it. The idea of an Omega being hurt at all is unthinkable, but at least they won’t have to re-break the bone to set it correctly. He isn’t sure the feral Omega would be able to stand that.

“I’m going to have to set it,” the Enforcer says apologetically, looking to the blue-eyed Omega. “It’s going to hurt, but only for a second.”

The Omega looks to Bucky, and Bucky can almost hear what he’s thinking.

You said I wouldn’t hurt anymore.

Or maybe that’s just his guilty conscience, promising something before he knew all the facts. 

Bucky touches the boy’s hair.

“If there were any other way,” he said, “we’d do that instead. But if we leave it, it’ll heal wrong and we’ll have to re-break it if you want to walk again. It’s up to you, but setting it now is better.”

Frankly, Bucky is surprised it hasn’t healed itself already. The fact that it’s still swollen and fresh is worrisome. Their kind don’t heal quite as quickly as the movies portray, but they do heal fast. It should be at least halfway there already.

The Omega looks back at the Enforcer and nods solemnly. His feral companion, though, snarls before the Enforcer can even touch him.

Bucky takes him by the arm, pulling him closer. The fact that the Omega lets him is a good sign, considering how hostile he is. He takes the feral Omega’s face in his hands, making sure the boy is looking at him.

“We have to do this,” he says firmly. “It’s what’s best for him. Hold on to me if you have to. Don’t look. Whatever it is you need, but you have to let this happen. Do you understand?”

For several long seconds, the Omega just stares at him, and Bucky worries that he doesn’t. That he’s too far gone to truly grasp what’s happening.

Then, thankfully, he nods. It’s small, and the boy’s breath is shaky, his gaze displaying fear for the first time. But still, he nods, and Bucky knows he isn’t so far gone.

“C’mere,” he says, gathering the feral Omega to him, and the boy buries his face in Bucky’s chest, his fingers gripping Bucky’s shirt tightly. 

Bucky shuffles them closer to the gurney, because he can’t allow one Omega to be comforted and leave the other bereft. He keeps one arm tightly around the feral Omega’s back and lays his other hand on the back of the silent Omega’s neck, squeezing lightly.

The silent Omega reaches up, grasping his wrist.

“Eyes on me,” Bucky orders him. When the Omega obeys, staring up at him, he tells the Enforcer, “Go on.”

It’s quick. A little jerk of the Enforcer’s hands, the snap of bone going back into place. The feral Omega jolts in his arms, trembling, and the blue-eyed Omega closes his eyes, his breath hitching almost imperceptibly. 

When it’s over, Bucky relaxes his hold on both Omegas. He sighs in relief, nuzzling first the feral Omega in his arms and then leaning down to do the same to his companion.

“Good,” he murmurs to them both. “You were both so good. I’m so proud of you.”

The blue-eyed Omega gazes up at him in wonder. He leans back until he’s resting against Bucky’s hip, pulling Bucky’s hand down to rest on his chest. He keeps holding onto it, clinging to Bucky as fiercely as his companion does.

The Enforcer reaches for something to bandage the ankle with. By the time it’s wrapped, both Omegas have calmed considerably, though neither of them have let go of Bucky yet. He doesn’t make them, either. They’ve been through hell, and whatever comfort they want, they deserve.

The Enforcer clears his throat awkwardly.

“Neither of them have a pack scent,” he says to Bucky. “Until they can tell us where they belong, the next step is to have a local pack foster them. We’ve already contacted the closest ones, their Alphas should be here soon.”

Bucky’s instinctive reaction is to protest. These Omegas are no one to him, not in any sort of way, even though it feels like the opposite.

They trusted him enough to let him get them out. They trusted him enough to allow the Enforcer into their space. They trusted him enough to allow pain, no matter how briefly, and to let him comfort them through it.

He swallows down that instinct, though, knowing that he has no right. 

Reluctantly, he nods and tries not to tighten his old on the Omegas.

“Okay,” he says, and the word tastes like ash on his tongue.

[thedo0zyslider]

Hell Of A Ride - Chapter One: We're Floating Away, My Bodies In Space - 3k Words

"We've had a hell of a ride, but you thought we were riding to Heaven. Well, I motherfucking lied, so crank that funky shit to eleven!" Leo's perspective of the Prison Dimension, being rescued, and all the chaos and family trauma that happens afterward. It's anything but pretty, and a certain turtle feels like he's the eye of the metaphorical storm. [Title from Hell Of A Ride, by Bo Burnham]

TWs: Descriptions of Violence, Leo going through a traumatic event, slight talk of death/accepting it

The first and only thing Leonardo can feel right now is pain. Sharp, excruciating pain that is absolutely everywhere. In his shell, in his legs, in his arms, in his face, everywhere . It is the worst pain Leo has ever felt, even worse than what the Shredder had done to them. Than what earlier in the day had thrown his way. He just wishes it would stop, but knows it’s not going to stop. That it’s never going to, as long as he still has breath still lingering in his body. He knows this isn’t going to stop till he is dead .

Kraang Prime lets out yet another screech, another sound that makes his eardrums feel like they’re breaking, before slamming the arm of his suit into the slider again. Leo doesn’t even put up a fight, not anymore. Not after the fifth or so beating. There’s no point in doing so. He sealed himself away in this dimension for a purpose. He’s going to die anyway. He always was. And on the very small and off chance that Kraang Prime lets him live; thirst and starvation, and their injuries will claim the both of them sooner rather than later.

He is being thrown around like a ragdoll, and it sure is making him feel like one. The Kraang leader picks him up like he was nothing, and throws the slides miles and miles into nothingness. Throws him distances Leo’s not even sure he could travel with his katanas, if he still had the both of them. And then he always catches up just a second later, like the space is nothing. Like all the debris and dumb rocks his victim had banged into on the way there are nothing, because they are nothing to him. Especially in that stupid suit.

Leo coughs up blood, and he is hit again. And again, and again, and again, until his whole body feels like a bruised and bloody pulp. Until he himself feels like some kind of horrible injury. But Leo knows not all of his bones and stuff are broken, because he is still holding the picture. He could not hold it if Kraang Prime had broken all his bones. The slider keeps the small piece of home close to him, keeping it safe the best he can, and lets it ground him as he momentarily just floats through nothing.

To make this more bearable as he floats and flys through nothing, and to give himself something other to focus on than the darkness and the beatings, Leo has started to make a mental list of all his injuries, where the pain is coming from and how strong it is. Shutting his eyes and doing that is better than staring at Kraang Prime as he slowly kills him, that’s for sure. Putting his medical brain on is also a pretty good way to keep himself from crying. Leo really hates crying.

The slider takes a breath in between hits, getting all the air he can as the dimension’s natural floating debris gives him temporary shelter. It hurt when he inhaled and exhaled, so a broken rib or two most likely. Something could also be wrong with his lungs themselves, due to how much he’s been smacked around. Even despite his shell and biological engineer to protect his inside. Draxum and had made all four of them to be weapons of war, but they were still just flesh and bones at the end of the day. Flesh and bones could only take so many hard hits before breaking, no matter how much science you stuffed in them.

He focuses hard, despite whatever pain comes next, and feels the rest of his body. The picture is still clasped firmly in his hand. His other hand feels like hell, and he can’t move any of his fingers. Same with that forearm. His other shoulder feels dislocated. Leo thinks his plastron and shell are both cracked, along with broken femurs and a severally fucked up knee. His head isn’t injured, but he suspects it will be soon enough.

For one last moment of peace, Leo thinks of much medical supplies and downright miracles it would take to heal all of this. He thinks of many medical supplies and stupid colored band aids with dumb little cartoons Mikey would relish in stealing from the local pharmacy. He thinks of the Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim ones the box turtle would buy his older brother, and how he would happily place them on top of his medical gauze covered limbs. Leo thinks of that with a smile, remembering how Mikey had done just that after a bad fight with the Foot one day. To lighten the mood, as he’d claimed. And because Jupiter Jim was awesome .

He thinks of how Donnie would complain about the blood and how gross is was, and can’t help but force a small chuckle, even with his fucked up throat and diaphragm. His poor twin always hated blood and stuff, but had made himself learn some basic medicine anyways. Because he was a nerd and totally thought Leo was so cool for being able to understand the one science he just couldn’t get behind. Donnie hadn’t said that, but he knew it was true. They were twins, after all.

Leo thinks of how Raph would nag him for being this hurt and dumb, after getting out of overprotective big brother mode, of course. And then he’d playfully hit the slider in the shoulder and offer to spar when he felt better, and then worry so much over hurting him again the spar would be lame. Leo thinks of how often his big brother had patched his wounds then accidentally reopened them later, a surge of affection flowing through him. The big guy never really got a hold of all that extra strength and size when they were just kids. But he was better now. Though it didn’t stop him from hitting Mikey just a bit too hard every now and again.

He thinks of how, whenever they get injured, April finds out what it would cost in human medical bills; her curiosity getting the better of her. And then she complains and grumbles how lucky they are to not have to deal with insurance and what not. He thinks of how his father would care for him when he was younger, even if he often times lacked in most things parental. He thinks of how Draxum would scold him for injuring his perfect creation, then bring him medicine later anyways. He thinks of how Cassnadra would worry over him in her own way, doing so by giving him tips to get better. He thinks of how, whenever Sunita came over, she brought them yokai food they couldn’t get anymore. (Because, ya know, wanted criminals and all that.) Especially when they were injured. He wonders what they’re slimy friend would bring him now, if she were to see all this….

Leo thinks and remembers all of this with a smile, and a few stray tears he didn’t permit falling out. Though the slider supposed, if he is going to die in here, he should at least let himself cry a little. Especially since he won’t be able to do anymore when he’s dead, supposedly. Leo has no idea if ghosts can cry, but figures he will be finding out shortly. His new favorite alien seems to be close, if the ever approaching smashing of rocks says anything, and is probably more determined than ever to send him straight to the ancestors. 

Suddenly, yet just as anticipated, the debris in front of him shatters into pieces, and Kraang Prime has found him again. He always does, he’s always just a few seconds behind. Never much more. So, right before Leo is picked up and thrown into even more floating rocks, he braces himself for the impact. It doesn’t do much good. He feels things pop out of place. He feels things snap and crack deep inside him. This is not looking good for Hamto Leonardo.

He gets thrown around like a ragdoll some more, for what feels like an eternity. Kraang Prime screams obscenities at him as he further injures the slider, though Leo has stopped listening a while ago. He’s sure, if he would ever go to sleep again, that those words would re-enter his brain and haunt his dreams forever. Those screams and words, all so grating on his very injured ears, also make the minutes feel like years; on top of the pain and the Prison Dimensions general nothingness that it’s name guaranteed. He’s maybe only been here ten minutes, maybe twenty maximum, but it feels like decades have passed. And maybe, Leo thinks as something else in his body snaps, he has been here for decades. Time might not work the same here. His brother might already have moved on, grown up, made new lives for themselves, and here he still is. Slowly dying to a fucking alien dictator. The same one he let free in another timeline, the same one he let kill the family that’s living happily without him right now. If that isn’t the definition of both tragic and poetic, then the slider doesn’t know what is.

And then before Leo even knows what’s happening, there is a glowing Orange light, and the crushing feelings of warmth and love and fear and hope . The Purple and Red energies, the ninpos that reach into this cold and foreign place, are not far behind the Orange. It seems, that against all the odds, that his brothers have found a way to save him after all; just as he was having his last thought about them. Right on cue, just as he would expect. 

 Time doesn’t work differently here, after all, Leo finds as the colors wash over him, and start to drag him up. Their ninpo’s still feel the same, young and full of energy. Not old and a little lifeless like Splinter’s does. Mikey’s, which is the strongest right now, still feels like wonder and joy and childhood . Donnie, the fiercest one of all, still feels all pixelated and buzzy in a way that can only be described as something uniquely Donatello . And Raph, who has the most desperate ninpo of all his brothers, still feels like love and protection and strength . The realization comforts Leo much more than he thought it would, even as Kraang Prime screeches again. Though this time, the alien’s tone is more angry than it was before.

Leo reaches out weakly, with both his most uninjured arm and his ninpo. His limbs are weak, hsi energy is weak, even though he wants it to be stronger. But it’s fine, because his brother’s are more than making up for it. The sheer mystic energy coming from that portal is way more than enough to rival whatever they were doing in the final Shredder fight, and that’s saying something. That had all the Hamato ancestors ever . This portal is just made of three turtles and a whole lot of brotherly love.

“Took you guys long enough.” Leo jokes, his voice sounding hoarse. Mikey lets out a scream, and makes the portal as wide as he can. Leo doesn’t even wanna know how the fuck his baby brother made that thing, but sure he’s he’’ be excitedly told all about it later; when he’s all sick and bedridden. Raph and Donnie each grab his arm through the opening, hoisting him upward, and the slider grabs back the best he can. Their energy surrounds him, protective and strong. For a good minute there, Leo thinks he’s not doomed to his fate after all, and that he’s actually going to get out of here.

And then, for another horrible minute, Kraang Prime has surged forward and grabbed ahold of his leg. He is trying to drag his enemy back down, so he can finish him off. So they can both die in that awful place together. Leo’s stomach drops at the touch of cold and unfriendly metal on his calf. He doesn;t wanna go back to accepting death, and counting injuries. He wants to live . He wants to see Raph smile again and hear Donnie complain and watch Mikey draw. He doesn’t want to go back to the darkness, he wants to live so badly it hurts .

And then, in a moment of pure rage, Donnie makes a giant purple drill and nails Kraang Prime straight in the face with it. His twin’’s anger is so fierce to feel in this form, though ninpo, and Leo had forgotten that. The intensity of it almost makes his grip on Raph’s hand slip, but his big brother is holding on for the both of them. He makes his whole arm bigger, right as Kraang Prime is knocked back into nothingness, and pulls all three of them out and back into New York City. Leo has never been more thankful to see this place in his life. 

Before the portal closes, the slider remembers his katanas. He uses the last of his strength and ninpo to bring them back to him, one flying out of the Prison Dimension and right past all their heads. There is the distinctive sound of the other, that he could not remember how or where he’d left it, hitting the ground nearby. He doesn’t think his brothers notice it, too busy with getting him back and keeping the Kraang at bay. Right after that, and if as on cue again, Mikey closes the portal right on that stupid alien’s, winking and saying something cool as he does so. Then the portal is gone, and the world is still and silent for a few seconds, and Leo and his four brothers all fall onto the ruined ground of New York.

And that is how, despite all the odds and feats that literally should’ve been impossib;e, Leonardo Hamato gets his ass saved from death via self sacrifice and brutal revenge. Because his brother’s loved him too much to leave him, even if had lived a whole lifetime without the three of them somewhere else. Again, if that isn’t poetry, he has no idea what is.

The slider is brought back to earth again, lying somewhere in New York. Everything seems to go in slow motion as his brain catches up and his family crowds around him, seconds feeling like several minutes at once. It’s disorienting. Leo kinda hates it. But, at least it lets him take everything in. Even if there is a high chance he’ll forget most if not all of this later, his probable brain damage being likely to play a huge factor in said memory loss.

Leo lays flat on his shell, looking at the pale orange of the New York sky, the sun slowly setting over the disastrous day. It’s a sight the slider never thought he would see again, a fact he had made peace with. Just looking at it kinda makes him want to cry.

His brother's faces are what really make him want to sob though, beautiful sunset be damned. Mikey’s looking at him, relief and the biggest tears anyone’s ever seen clouding his eyes. Though there is still the tail ends of fear behind his baby brother’s joy, like he was scared Kraang Prime would reopen his portal and drag Leo down into the Prison Dimension with him, for a second time in one day. His baby brother’s hands are shaking. Leo’s medical brain clocks it before he clocks how he himself feels. Those aren’t good shakes at all, they’re straight up muscle tremors from using too much mystic power. If Leo was in a better state, he’d be rushing the box turtle home to the medbay ASAP . Draxum’s gonna kill them for letting Mikey do that to himself. (Realistically, none of them could’ve stopped him from doing it, not even Raph. Or the big bad and scary mad scientist himself)

Raph looks like he’s glad Leo’s alive, and like he wants to wring his throat out for that stunt he just pulled. Which, yeah, fair enough. If the roles were reversed, Leo would be holding himself back from punching the guy right now. Raph’s left eye is cloudy, from where the Kraang had gotten him. Leo can’t help the stab of guilt that pierces him when he sees it. There are cracks in his big brother's plastron, and his left arm looks scarily unnatural with all the blood and whatnot covering it. He looks so happy to see the slider, but also so tired at the same time. Leo can’t digest everything that face makes him feel right now

Donnie’s face is the worst. He’s crouched over Leo, examining him; watching the blood flow from his wounds with concern. What little medical knowledge the softshell knows is already going through his head, Leo can see it in his twin’s eyes. He feels bad he never gave their siblings any more than basic first aid training, especially now. Donnie’s probably gonna have to bear the brunt of the medical work, since he at least knows how to set a bone back, and the softshell is horrible squeamish. Sorry ‘bout that one, Dee.

There are tear streaks staining his brother's purple mask and left over tears lingering in his eyes. His twin had been crying. Donnie hadn’t cried since they were nine. Maybe ten. Leo hated seeing him cry. He hated causing it, more than words could ever describe. The softshell’s hand is firmly gripping an uninjured area on Leo’s forearm, and is crushing it, refusing to let go. Even as gross blood flows all over it and absolutely activates Donnie’s sensory issues. It’s a sweet gesture, once Leo realizes what it is. Even if it is a little gross. He doesn’t think Donnie’s going to let go of him for at least a few hours. 

His twin’s shell is exposed, there’s a million injuries littering him. Leo wants to shove battleshell over him and protect his poor brothers spine as much as he wants to heal Mikey’s arms and look at Raph’s eye. He can’t do that right now, there’s too much of his own blood flowing onto the floor. The slider is stuck on the ground, breathing heavily as reality comes back to him. Finally, he was starting to get sick of being disoriented on top of all the horrible amounts of pain he’s in. Thankfully too, that had been so unfun.

“Leo? Leo, are you there?” Raph’s voice breaks through the fog that is Leonardo’s brain, and he can finally hear what his family is saying to him. They’re mouths have been moving ever since he first saw the sunset, but his ears have only just stopped ringing. He thinks there’s a good amount of misplaced blood in them, and the rest of his head as well. He briefly wonders if his head will explode from it all, or if it will just be wiped away and join all the blood on his hands instead. The first part seems a lot more appealing to the slider.

Mikey and Donnie are saying things too, just as Leo starts to focus more on his surroundings. Their voices are sadly drowned out by how intensely he’s staring at the place around them, wanting to fully get his bearings before he does anything. And hey, wait a minute, he recognizes this view of the sunset. The skyline. The view of the city from here. At first, he had assumed they were somewhere in Manhattan or something. They had been fighting the Kraang so high up in the air, there was no telling where they would find themselves when gravity pulled them all back down. But clearly, that was not the case, because the slider was laying on like, possibly the worst spot in the whole of New York City.

“Ew, are we on Staten Island? ” Leo jokes, the weirdest way to confirm he’s okay, and then promptly passes out. The blood loss finally got to him, it seems, with how light and woozy his head feels in the moments before it all goes black. That, and the excruciating pain. He’s at a ten out of twenty on the pain scale, at least. Maybe a thirty if we’re feeling generous. Passing out is more than a relief, even if he does lose consciousness with his family’s worried cries filling his ears. At least now, in unconsciousness, he will get a rest from the pain. Just for a little bit.

But it will not give him a rest from some other things. It will give him quite the opposite.

[waterfallofspace]

Thank you to the lovely @onetrickponi for this request:

From a little ask I intend to work my way through using ~this list~ (I actually am writing 2 things for this one, hope that's alright <3) I went with D/azai for the first one, featuring C/huuya ofc. It takes a minute to get into the actual snz, but hopefully it's still enjoyable~ 2.1k words, Prompt #17, story under cut! 17. What did you do to your nose to piss it off like this?" (References to swearing, and mild violence, in case anyone doesn't like either of those!)

~~~~~~~

Walking into his office in the morning Chuuya has learned to expect a certain number of problems to be waiting for him. Being an executive in the Port Mafia means cleaning up a lot of messes. It also means handling a lot of issues so they don’t become messes. All that to say, he expects problems, just not… this one. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Aw Chuuuya, that’s no way to greet your pahhrtner!”

“Former. Now? You’re just a traitor.”

“Words hurt you know.”

“I should kill you on sight.” 

Dazai casts him a dark smile, letting the chair tilt as he leans back, eyes void of anything you could call ‘human’. It’s an intense look; emotionless and calculated. He has with ease a terror inducing quality that even Mori lacks. Something that leaves you feeling cold and itchy. Almost as if how calm you feel in his presence sets off every alarm in your brain. 

“Come now. We both know you hhhaave no intention of that.”

“Why you-” 

“Aren’t you gonna ask me what I want? I mean- sneaking into the office of a Port Mafia executive? I must want something.” 

Considering punching a hole in the wall, Chuuya settles for a shaky sigh, fist clenching around his jacket as he drapes it over the desk. ‘If I killed him now I’d have to deal with Mori. Besides, I need him to leave here without alerting anyone else or I’ll get accused of aiding and abetting. It’s my office after all, and he’s sitting here like he fucking owns the place.’ 

“Fine. But only this once, you hear me? And get your feet off my desk, you bastard.” 

“There’s the Chuuya I know and love!”

“I have seven knives hidden within my reach.”

“What an interesting fact! My turn! I have a video of Chuuya snoring on my phone.” 

“Eh?! You- Ach. Just out with it. The sooner you tell me what you want the sooner you can leave. And get off my chair, would you?” 

A smirk spreads across Dazai’s face, a grimace appearing on Chuuya’s in response. With a noncommittal noise he vacates the chair, Chuuya quickly taking his place. ‘Better, but I won’t be able to relax till he’s gone.’ They pause for a minute, trading stares as Dazai’s hand twitches to his face. A single movement, but one that Chuuya decides not to ignore.

“Something wrong with you?”

“Manners, Chuuya! Even Mori has more tact. But since you ahhsk, yes actually. That happens to be why I’m here.”

Chuuya’s face pales, a shiver running down his spine as he attempts to scan Dazai’s form. ‘No obvious wounds, he doesn’t seem that pale so likely no blood loss… It shouldn’t be some sort of special ability malfunction, he’s carrying himself with too much confidence. But his breath has been shaking. I didn’t notice it before, maybe-’ Dazai tilts his head, letting a hand rub against his nose again. 

“Are you worried, partner? How kind of you~! I knew you cared!”  

“I- I do not! I just w- want you out of my office. That’s all.”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Along with all the rest.”

“Are you gonna tell me what you want or not!?”

“Right! Nearly forgot. It’s a bit heh-! Scuse me. Bit embarrassing.” 

"Everything about you is embarrassing.”

The anticipated retort never comes. Instead, Dazai’s eyes shift to the wall, a slight haze coming over them as his hand hovers in front of his face. Chuuya finds himself unable to look away, mind running through possibilities. ‘Is he gonna faint? Maybe I ruled out blood loss too soon. No… not pale enough. Maybe it’s an enemy's special ability? How would that be embarrassing though…’

“Not again, guhh- I really thought I had it that time.”

The voice pulls Chuuya from his thoughts, eyes refocusing on the man standing in front of him aggressively scrubbing at his nose. It’s only now that Chuuya starts to piece it together. The watery quality of his eyes, the slight flush to his face, and finally the dampness surrounding his nose. ‘Are you fuckin-’ 

“Are you fucking kidding me? You broke into the Port Mafia because you’re sneezing?”

“Actually, no. But good try, you’re very c- huhh-! close. I broke into your office because I can’t sneeze.”

“Wha-” 

Dazai lifts his hand back to his nose, sniffling with a quality that makes Chuuya flinch. He pinches it lightly, eyes starting to unfocus again, before huffing out a sigh and drifting his focus back to Chuuya. In response, Chuuya huffs out a laugh. ‘Wish I could say this is the weirdest reason he’s ever had for coming to see me. Unfortunately, this is pretty standard Dazai.’

“It’s not nice to laugh at someone who’s suffering!”

“Why the hell would you break in here for a sneeze?”

“Weren’t you listening? It’s the lack of sneeze that’s brought me here.”

“You know what I meant, jackass.” 

“It’s not exactly a problem I’m eager to share with just anyone. Not ex- hahh-! guhh… not exactly the proudest moment of my life. I needed someone I trust.” 

Chuuya pinches the bridge of his nose to fight off the growing headache. ‘I always seem to get one when interacting with him.’ Weighing the pros and cons of killing him here and now, Chuuya lets another sigh out, a low growl nipping at its heels as he offers a response. 

“Don’t you have someone over at the agency? The tiger kid, or that ideals man.”

“Maybe, but I wanted you.” 

A warmth starts to spread over his cheeks before he can stop it, Chuuya roughly huffing to distract from it. Judging by the smile that appears on Dazai’s face, he was unsuccessful. ‘Ach. What does it matter anyways, he’s the one embarrassed here. I don’t even care! I should just throw him out on his ass.’ Despite the sentiment, Chuuya finds himself vocalizing the complete opposite.

“Let’s just get this over with.” 

“Aw, see? I knew Chuuya would hhhhelp me!”

“Ju- just shut up, bandage waste. D… did you h- have something in mind?”

“Actually, yes. You see, this tihihhh- tickle has been bothering me for quite some time. I attempted a few rehhmedies myself, but it seems to be ineffective- heHH-!” 

Another pause fills the room as Dazai’s breath catches, a tear fighting to free itself as his hand flutters in front of his face. After an entirely too awkward amount of time, Dazai finally sighs, rubbing his nose against his bandaged arm as a light cough spills out. Chuuya fills the silence that follows, wanting to end this experience as quickly as possible. 

“So?”

“So, I figured it haahhh… has to be someone else. I checked around your office for something effecti-”

“-You did what?”

“-tive, and landed on this feahhhther. Not sure why you even have this, but I suppose it’s none of my business.”

“I- I uh-”

The look that crosses Dazai’s face has Chuuya’s fists clenching again, his entire body begging him to knock it off the bastard's face. Instead he stands, ripping the feather from Dazai’s hands and pushing him against the wall. A breath is snagged from Dazai’s lungs at the force, his eyes meeting Chuuya’s with a dirty look.

“Someone’s bossy a- hahh-! all of a sudden-”

“S- shut up and close your eyes.”

“Close my…?”

“I’m not doing this with you looking at me l- like that.” 

Dazai doesn’t respond, but he does as he’s told. ‘For once.’ Chuuya grimaces, fighting the warmth that threatens to reignite against his cheeks as he brushes the feather against Dazai’s nose. Dazai’s breath catches as his head tilts back on its own. ‘This’ll be easier than I thought. Bastard really couldn’t do this himself?’

“heHH-! ehh… hihh-! hEP-! guhhhh…”

“What the- are you fighting it?”

“Nohhhh… Ihhehh-! It’s been l- heAH-! like this all da-ahhhy-! It’s been driving me in… insane- hEP-! Damn…”

“Shit Dazai, what did you do to your nose to piss it off like this?”

“I had to ho- heHP-! huhh… holdback for a meeting, and I thhhhink this is… is… heAH-! is payback.” 

Chuuya can’t help but laugh, prompting a watery glare from the tortured man in front of him. He pulls the feather away to reevaluate, Dazai moaning slightly as it’s removed, breath catching again- leading to nothing once more. ‘This isn’t working, I need a better plan…’

“Whatever it takes, right?”

“You have my phehh-! permission to do anything your little hhheart requires. As long as it gets results.” 

“Got it. Stay here, and don’t touch anything!”

With that, Chuuya brushes out of the room, heading straight for Mori’s office. ‘There’s something in here… I think he keeps it in this- there it is! This whole thing might end up being enjoyable after all.’ Grabbing the item, Chuuya returns to his office, surprised to find Dazai pressed against the wall where he left him, eyes still shut.  

“Ready?”

“Go fohhh… for it.”

Offering a tight nod in response, a grin starting to spread over his mouth, Chuuya holds up the cologne, spraying it right onto Dazai’s nose.  The effect is immediate, his eyes snapping open, staring right into Chuuya’s, before fluttering closed again, jerking as far away from Chuuya as he can manage.

“heH-! hAH’KXSH-ENXSHH’diue-! Oh thank go- AIYZSHH-hNNXSHh’iew-!”

“Christ, Dazai.”

“heHh… wait there… there’s… huhH-! eh’KZSHH’shiew-! dAHZZSHhh’uu-!”

“A- are you-” 

“hh- hah’ihZSHHh’diue-! hehh’knESZHh’oo-! hehh.. huhHH-! ihh’tnZSHhhieww-!” 

The third seems to surprise them both, Dazai managing to bring a hand up to scrub at his face, pinching his nose shut and prying his eyes open. Chuuya can’t help but wince at the ticklish look of his face, nose quivering, still hitching despite the iron grip he has placed over it. A desperate look flashes across his features as he ducks into his chest, fingers still glued to his nose being used to stifle.

“hH’GNXT-INDXXT-! tehhh… heh’inGT-aiNGT’shh-! ihHH-! hh- knnGT-eh’dNT’chh-!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t-”

“eh’kznngt-inndgt’chhh-! huhh-! hk’nxxt’chh-geh’dxxt’choo-! heH-! dnNXt’choo-ainGT’choo-!” 

“Seriously you moron that’s only gonna-”

“ihh’knnT’oo-! iNDXT’oo-! hahHHh… gehh- hehH-! hehH’KXXNT’shoo-! eh’dENXGT’shhoo-!”

Each breath increases the tickle, Dazai only seeming able to inhale when he’s building for the next sneeze. Before he can think it through, Chuuya finds himself prying his hands away, holding them together. Dazai opens his eyes again, desperation flooding them as he tries to break free.

“Ch- Chuuya.. I hhhaaaa… haavee to… guhhh-! gonna… heHh-!”

“J- just sneeze, okay? That’s why you came to me isn’t it? Besides, this is hard to watch.”

No time to fight Dazai gives one last effort to break free. It fails spectacularly, and instead he attempts to aim for the floor, only succeeding in reaching Chuuya’s chest. Chuuya growls at the display, but ultimately resigns himself to the outcome. ‘Technically it’s my own fault. Still, bastard’s probably doing this on purpose.’ 

“ahh’tezshhiew-knnezsshh’iew-! heHh… guhh- hiH-! aih’YIZSHHhh’oo-YIEZSHH’shhoo-!"

"Bl-"

"hahhh… hAHhh-! ah’gnZUSHHh’diew-eh’zzUSHHhh’diew-!”

“Bless you.”

“Th- thahhhnnk… hH’INCHh’oo-! knNCHHH’oo-!”

“Don’t waste your breath.” 

“See- heH-! Seems like you’re the sneeehhh… eh’tzsshh’oo-! tzzshhh’oo-! sneeze whisperer, Chu- choo… ahh’CHH’uuya-! heh’CHH’uuya-!” 

A blush spreads across Chuuya’s face as he aims a kick for Dazai’s stomach, just a little satisfied when the bastard grunts in response. ‘It wasn’t strong enough to do any real damage.’ Dazai attempts to laugh, the noise coming out strangled as the congestion seeps into his voice. 

“Something the matter?”

“I- I will throw you out the window, Dazai.” 

“Might be doing me a faahhh… again..? heH’KZSHhh’oo-! kEHSZHH’oo-! Scuse me. Might be doing me a favour. This is gonna laahhh… last all day.” 

“You asked for it.”

“Yehh- yes I did.”

Freeing himself from Chuuya’s grasp, Dazai starts to head for the door, pausing with a spin to face him once more. A look spreads across his face, one that steals Chuuya’s breath the way the sneezes had stolen Dazai’s. A look with real emotion laced in it. 

“I don’t regret it, you know. Coming to you. I made the right choice.”

Leaving no room for a response, Dazai gives a wave, before crushing his nose into his palm again as he exits the room. Chuuya pauses, seemingly frozen in place as his mind races through the interaction. Replaying every moment as if he’s watching a recording in his head. 

‘Smug bastard. Just wanted an excuse to break into the Port Mafia, I bet that’s it. He just wanted to prove that he could get into my office whenever he wanted. Picked the dumbest reason just to piss me off.’ 

It’s a lie, and he knows it. But just for now, it’s easier than the truth, so Chuuya decides to stick to it, ignoring the smile that starts to form. A few floors down as Dazai makes his escape, the same smile graces his features.

“It was nice to see you too, partner.” 

[rinwellisathing]

Paint The Lines, Cut The Flesh: Part 31 second half

Halsin and Jaheira by now had a small group of civilians between the two of them, Jaheira taking the lead, her knowledge of the city unimpeachable. Halsin brought up the rear protecting those who couldn't fight as they made their way into The Upper City. They paused a moment as Jaheira's attention turned to a familiar voice amongst a throng of dying illithids. “You try and make a pawn of Minsc!? You try and hide away Boo to conceal your wrong-doings?” A powerfully built man in leathers felled mind flayer after mindflayer with a large, heavy sword. Jaheira could not fully hide the relief on her face at the sight of him. “Minsc!” She called out as the last illithid fell to his blade. The man's eyes widened as he saw her. “Jaheira? But you were dead! A tricksy creature took your shape and when Boo discovered its treachery, with its dying breath it said it had killed you!” “I am much harder to kill than that, Minsc. You know this!” She chuckled. “But I saw you overwhelmed by cultists, how have you not joined these things?” She gestured to the mindflayers at his feet, their strange ichorous blood pooling. “Ha! Jaheira, Minsc's brain is to smooth for any slithering, crawling little beastie!” He paused a moment, looking to a small ball of fluff at his shoulder. “Eh...except you, Boo!” “Join us, then. We need to get these people to safety.” She nodded towards the group, who seemed unwilling to move until she or Halsin said so, relying entirely on them. With three heroes, their progress moved far more swiftly and they found themselves nearing The Watch Citadel. Halsin could only hope Jaheira's happy reunion boded well for his own and that Sentry was already inside. ---

“Gabraela!” Minthara breathed as the three adventurers passed by a group of mind flayers trampled and frosted with rime on the ground. The tall, imposing tiefling stood in her bloodied armor beside an impossibly beautiful elven woman with long, thick black hair. Several cloaked figures stood beside them. “The Absolute loyalists have usurped our temple. They do not realize this thing will never realize father's perfect end. We rounded up those still loyal to our father and have been fighting them.” She explained, her haunting deep purple eyes full of fury. They softened a bit as she gazed at the drow. “I am glad you're safe though...” “Oh! Please tell us, friends...how is dear brother Sentry? He may be a traitor to our lauded father, but he is still my dear baby brother at the end of it all.” The elf spoke up, batting her long dark eyelashes at Octavia and Gale. Octavia blushed a bit, hunching her shoulders and lowering her head at the attention. Gale seemed visibly uncomfortable as the woman's dark eyes searched his face. “He was well the last time I saw him. He went to confront the brain.” Octavia managed finally. “I'd ask you to help us guide civilians to safety, but...I'm not so sure that's a wise idea to ask of Bhaalists.” Gale wrinkled his nose. “A fair point. Rest assured we will at least secure the streets. Baldur's Gate is our home too and our temple lies beneath its streets.” Gabraela nodded. Their conversation was interrupted by the intrusion of another wave of mind flayers. “You should run.” The beautiful elf giggled and as Minthara took one last look towards Gabraela, she watched the two begin to transform, bones snapping and cracking sickeningly. Gabraela's lower body split and extended, a sinewy, skinless horse body expanding beneath her hips. The skin burst from her upper body and her long white hair fell out in clumps, leaving a raw horned skull with purple light glowing in the sockets. Four lean, powerful arms run through with black and pus-yellow veins held a massive scythe as the dripping, skinless horror began to trample enemies.

The beautiful elf's body began to extend and cover in scales and what appeared to be blood red moss and mushrooms. A pair of insect-like wings sprouted from its back and its eyes went fully black. Its body was like that of a mantis interwoven with a small dragon or a wyvern and the torso of a beautiful woman rose up from it, covered in tiers of fungi and with the long scythe like arms of a mantis. She grinned wickedly, baring terrible needle like fangs and rushed another group of enemies. Octavia gazed in wide eyed fascination, her leather journal open as she scribbled down what she saw. “So any Bhaalspawn can embody The Slayer? And they're all different?” She breathed. “I had only seen Gabraela's slayer form before and only while fading in and out of consciousness as she freed me from Moonrise.” Minthara replied.

“I think I've seen enough Bhaalspawn to last me a life time if I'm honest.” Gale admitted with a shudder as he looked towards the Citadel in the distance. “We should keep moving. The others should be waiting for us there.” ---- Lae'zel dashed up the stairs of the Citadel followed by Shadowheart and Karlach. The Siren's Cove pirates and Priestesses of Umberlee had assured the party that they would hold the docks and urged them to hurry to the rendezvous point and every wasted second, Lae'zel worried that something would go wrong, that Kroger would be unable to free Orpheus, or that he would fall before the chance arose. As the party made their way forward, they encountered another group. “Hey, not to pretend I'm some mind flayer expert, but that mind flayer they've got with them doesn't look like The Emperor.” Karlach pointed in confusion to the being that floated near Kroger as the party that had confronted the brain staggered to a halt just a short distance from them. “It could be Omeluum, the shape of his head is similar.” Shadowheart suggested. “Although the robes are different...Do illithids often change their clothes? I mean, if they're just a projection and all that.”

Lae'zel peered in confusion. This did not bode well, it should have been Orpheus at Kroger's side, not some Ghaik, emperor or not. She stepped forward, about to address her brother, to ask him what had happened, but she was beaten to it. Kithrak Voss looked more furious than Lae'zel had ever seen another githyanki in her life as he stormed up to Kroger, eyes wild with rage. “You held the future of our people in your hands, boy! And you ruined it!” He shouted. Kroger winced but stood firm, neither shrinking away or trembling like he might have back at Creche K'liir. “How dare you parade around with this abomination!” Kroger breathed deeply. “Voss, this 'abomination' is our people's salvation, our people's bravest hero.” He began, but Orpheus brushed past him, eyes on Voss. “Voss! Gith'ka tavki krash'ht” Orpheus addressed him softly. In that moment, Voss' eyes widened in disbelief and he held out a hand to his fellow dragon riders. “Stand down, the true heir has spoken.” Voss cursed, a look of pain on his face as he sheathed his sword. “No...it cannot be....Orpheus, what's happened to you?” He approached him warily. “A sacrifice had to be made, we need to end The Grand Design at all costs.” Kroger spoke calmly, although his guilt still ate at him, the way Voss looked at Orpheus, Kroger dared to allow his eyes for one moment to look back to where Wyll stood. “The duty fell to me, and when it is complete, I must die.” Orpheus explained. “This is the way it must be.” “But what of our people? Our liberation?” Voss replied, Kroger could see there was much he was holding back and he wondered just what the knight's true relation to the prince had been despite himself. “Our people have held my name in their imaginations for years, Voss. Tell them of my fate, some may scoff or dismiss it, but others will believe and will be empowered by it. Our people will be free, you and the others here today will spread my story to them.” Orpheus looked to Kroger and then to Lae'zel. “Yes, of course, we will make sure everyone knows of your sacrifice, my prince.” Lae'zel nodded, striking a solemn salute with her sword. “This will be my oath.”

“Will you help us, Voss?” Kroger asked, looking to the knight. “We must end the grand design, I know this isn't how you envisioned things, this isn't what you wanted, but...” “We stand a chance at defeating the brain. This young hero and his companions hold the key. You must answer to him as you would to me, Voss.” Orpheus gestured to Kroger. He paused a moment, lowering his head and closing his eyes. “But your majesty!” Voss reached out to Orpheus. The illithid gently brushed his hand against Voss' extended hand. “ Your friendship, your constancy – when I fell to despair, they elated me. Thank you, my friend. Sha va zai.” Voss nodded his head with resignation, forcing down the emotion threatening to well up. “Sha va zai.” Kroger looked away, the guilt threatening to overwhelm him now. He told himself this was the right thing to do, the only right thing. There was no other way. He hadn't known what he was taking away from Voss, he couldn't have. “We need to keep moving, the brain won't wait for us to explain everything perfectly.” Jaina interrupted, nodding towards the darkening sky. “Hells, if we could just broadside the damned thing....but what ship could reach it?” “Perhaps it needn't be a ship.” Voss offered finally, looking to the red dragons hovering just beyond the walk way.

Jaina grinned, looking to Lae'zel and then to Kroger. “Never thought of sky pirates, but damn. Your people have the grit for it. I'd say yes!” ---- As the party parted ways from the Githyanki forces, they arrived outside a large set of doors leading to a massive entry hall. Inside were hundreds of people huddled in fear, but alongside the frightened civilians, there stood a host of allies as well. “Zev!” Sentry grinned widely at the sight of the older paladin, rushing over to him. “By the broken god, you're still around!” “Yes, I thought about what you said, Sentry. My Hellriders and I have one last chance to make things right and if this is to be our last stand, at least we'll go out in a blaze of glory.” Zevlor replied, placing a hand on Sentry's shoulder. “Nope! You're gonna survive and redeem yourselves in everyone's eyes and then you're gonna buy me a drink and we're gonna swap stories.” Sentry insisted with a grin. “Oh you found your way here! Nibbles, my sweet boy.” Jaina cooed, hurrying over to the owl bear, now clad in heavy armor. She scratched affectionately at the fur around the sides of his beak and grinned. “And ready for battle too!” She looked to his side to see Dammon standing there. “Your work is excellent, as ever. When this is all done, there's something I'll want to talk to you about.” She nodded towards Karlach off in the distance and Dammon nodded in return.

“Let's put our heads together and see what we can do.” He agreed. “I found some broken Watchers while I made my way here and I think I'm on to something.” “You have done well, little former Sharran.” Aylin beamed with pride at Shadowheart. “Did I not promise my love and I would come to your aid when you needed us most?” She clapped her on the shoulder. “And not a moment too soon, Dame Aylin.” Shadowheart smiled. “It will be an honor to fight by your side again, that brain won't know what hit it.” “There is a Selunite enclave not far from the city, Shadowheart, perhaps when this is all over we could host you there? I'm sure there are a lot of questions you have about your people when this is through.” Isobel offered with a sincere smile. “You've come quite a long way from the scowling, wet dog of a creature I met at The Last Light.” “I can scowl a bit more if you like.” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “Father....”Wyll smiled as he approached Duke Ravengard, standing discussing the upcoming battle with Councilor Florrick. “Wyll, you've shown yourself to be a hero this day, the hero our city deserves. Only tell me what you need and you will have The Flaming Fist to follow you into battle.” He smiled at him. There was pride in his eyes. Wyll felt his heart surge in his chest at this feeling of being seen, of being understood by his father. All he had ever wanted was to protect his city, and to make his father proud of him. “Thank you father. We will defeat this Nether Brain and restore the city.” He assured him. “When you return, there is a matter I want to discuss...It is far past time you were able to return home, my son, and to the position you deserve.” Ulder began with a nod to Florrick.

“Wyll, your father intends for you to remain here in the city, as Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate.” She explained. “It is time for a change, and you would be a change for the better. Please consider it.” Ravengard nodded his head to his son. Wyll simply stood there, dumbstruck. This was beyond any thing he had ever expected, and in truth, he couldn't even be sure if this was what he wanted. Finally free of Mizora, he could at last live his life on his own terms, with Jaina and Karlach...There were still so many adventures to be had, there were so many people beyond Baldur's Gate who needed him. He wasn't sure what choice he ought to make, he looked to Jaina deep in conversation with Dammon, and to Karlach, who had finally approached Sentry. “Hey soldier...” Karlach gave a grudging nod of her head. “Well, that's certainly a step up from 'ass hole'” Sentry gave a small smile. “End of the world got you sentimental?” “It's not the end of the world, you prick.” Karlach shot back, giving his shoulder a shove. “But look, I could waste so much of the little time I have left being pissed at you, hating you, but I don't want to. In the end, it doesn't matter what you did or what you deserve, I deserve better than to lose my last few hours being pissed off....so I forgive you.” She frowned. “Not for you, but for me.”

“Fair.” Sentry nodded. “You don't have to accept it, but for what it's worth, I am sorry...This is all my fault at the end of the day, and I can't just tell you some stupid little platitude like 'oh, Gortash manipulated me and I see now I never really loved him'. You deserve better than a lie. So I'm sorry for what he did to you, I'm sorry I love him regardless, and I'm sorry for what I did too. Sorry that it hurt you, anyway.” “That's a fucked up apology, mate....yeah, I'd be kinda dumb to accept it, but still, at least you're honest.” Karlach held out her hand. Sentry gripped her hand and gave it a firm shake. “Well, this is our last chance before the final push, I feel like our heroes should say something.” Jaheira nodded towards Kroger, Jaina, and Sentry. “Oh...um...I'm not one for grand speeches.” Kroger protested. “Go on, brother! You must at least try!” Octavia spoke up encouragingly from her place by the door way. Kroger cleared his throat and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose, all those eyes on him, he could practically feel them. But he focused his thoughts and gave it a try. “You are frightened, your city is overrun by Ghaik and a malevolent being has cast its shadow over your home. But when things are darkest, we must look for the light. There are always bright spots if we know where to find them. In this darkness, that light is eachother..and...I suppose...the enduring willingness to fight back.” He trailed off. Jaina caught onto Kroger's struggle and picked up. “I have lived in this city for seven years now, not a long time, but that is long enough to see that you are strong, you are resilient! You are a city that stubbornly sat atop the strong hold of a god of murder, a cloister of darkness, and a vampire lord's slaughter pits, but that has never stopped the people here from living their lives and pushing on ahead. You are home to one of Umberlee's greatest servants and one of her most glorious temples, you are the favored port of so many of her chosen champions...and I want you all to know that you are under her protection as well as ours in this moment.” She looked to Sentry.

“I....” He began, pausing a moment. “Fuck....Enver was good at this, not me....” He murmured. “I'm not good at speeches, which, you know, a paladin probably should be, we're knights in shining armor, right? But that's not what wins a fight like this, if I went up against this thing on my own with just a sword and Ilmater's name on my lips, I would get pulped. I would get pulped and people would panic, and it would all be over.” He looked at the crowd around him, the looks of surprise and disbelief on the faces of many of the civilians. “But that doesn't mean it's all over right now! Because I'm not facing that thing alone.” His eyes fell to Zevlor. “It's too common that people dump all their problems on one person and then that person thinks it's their responsibility to save the world all on their own, it breaks you down, it overwhelms you...It steals the best things from you and forces you into this state where all you can do is just try to survive and hope you don't fuck up too badly. But it doesn't have to be that way! Baldur's Gate, you are going to be alright, we are going to take this Nether Brain down because there are a lot of us!” He could see now. Aylin, Florrick, Dammon, an arcane projection of Rolan. Zevlor was still here, Halsin and Jaheira and...shit, that was Minsc...from the stories.... “We play to our strengths, we do what we're best at, we join forces and we kick this thing's ass!” “Yes! Minsc is most adept in the kicking of evil's butt!” The large, rather enthusiastic ranger beside Jaheira whooped with glee, raising his hands and clapping them enthusiastically. “Exactly! We do this together!” Sentry pumped his fist. “We do this together and we live to see tomorrow and we keep on keeping on, like Baldurians do!”

The applause started slow and hesitant, but it was there and soon it began to rise through the room, filling the enclosed space with a roar of approval. Sentry managed a small smile as he took a few steps back and turned, slinking from the crowd to go join Halsin for a moment. “Well...uh....as heroic speeches go, I'm thinking that was MAAAAAYBE a three if I'm being generous? Hm?” He asked as he leaned against the druid. “No matter what you thought of how it sounded, you spoke the truth, Sentry. I know better than most the cost of placing a burden squarely on your own shoulders alone.” Halsin smiled approvingly, his arm gently sliding around Sentry's shoulder, holding him reassuringly. “You taught me that I would need to rely on others, to accept help. Without you I never could have stopped The Shadow Curse.” “You could have, I think...it just would have taken a really, really long time and you might've had to bring Kagha or someone else much less pleasant to be around than me.” Sentry grinned, nudging Halsin playfully. “If I'm honest, I'd sooner have brought a trained squirrel with me than Kagha, there are some torments even I couldn't bear.” He laughed. “So she was awful before the whole refugee situation too, then?” Sentry asked, relaxing in Halsin's embrace, allowing himself this one moment to feel safe. Halsin winced and paused a moment. “I wouldn't exactly say awful, but she was quite comfortable voicing opinions I found abhorrent....we...disagreed...on Silvanus' teachings to a near irreconcilable extent.” “Fair, fair...I certainly 'disagreed' on Ilmater's teachings with a lot of the prissy upper city boys in my training class back at the temple.” Sentry shrugged. “You know, I'm not much for droning speeches and posturing, but that was far less tedious than the type I'm used to. Good work.” Astarion grinned, approaching the two. “But in all seriousness, try not to get pulped, would you? I'd feel just awful if I had even less to live for when all this is over.” Sentry motioned the pale elf closer and pulled him into the embrace as well. “You'll still have me. Death is cheap and I'm really hard to kill, remember?”

“Well, assuming Withers sticks around after all this.” Astarion replied, though he rested in Sentry's arms, his head against the paladin's chest as he took a moment to allow the events of the day to wash over him. “I saw you talking to Sentry....Are you alright?” Jaina asked as she approached Karlach, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. “Yeah...I think I am. It's like I told him, I've got maybe hours left to live and I don't want to spend them being pissed off, I deserve more than that.” She nodded, gently resting her hands on Jaina's hips. “I want to think of you...and of Wyll...not of how gods damned unfair everything turned out.” She leaned down, pressing her forehead to Jaina's, a little hiss of steam as her warm flesh touched the chilly, sea slick flesh of Jaina's head. “Hey...if you guys have a kid, name her after me, huh?” Jaina gave a small smile, her fingertips brushing Karlach's cheek. “Well, that would be pretty weird considering you're still going to be around, can you imagine how confusing?” “Jaina....we both know I won't be...I'm not going back to Avernus. I'm never going back to Avernus.” Karlach replied, holding her tighter. “What if you didn't have to go alone?” Wyll stepped up beside her, his arm around her shoulder. “What? But Wyll, you and Jaina...there has to be a wedding and then I bet they'll make you a king or something, at least nobility, after all this...” Karlach turned her head to look at him in disbelief. “Weddings take forever!” Jaina shook her head. “Planning is SOOOO long. On the island, it took a year or more for something formal! Most people just get married in the heat of battle, like aboard a ship in a storm.”

“And look, we're in the heat of battle right now...well, just about to be anyway.” Wyll nodded his agreement. “And as to the being a king or nobility, gods below! Nothing could be worse! I'll fight by your side instead of sitting hearing petitioners and going to boring feasts and meetings any day.” “And besides, who knows? Maybe Avernus is just the place to stave off coral lung just a little longer.” Jaina added. “I think we should all go.” “You'd really come with me, knowing how awful it is?” Karlach looked back and forth between the two of them. “Well, it'll certainly take more than one person to take down an archdevil, three seems like as good a number as any.” Jaina nodded. “Besides, I don't think I'm quite done with Mizora, I would love to pay her a little social call when all is said and done.” The tiefling cracked her knuckles with a shark-like grin. “I've had enough of that woman to last a life time, but I do hear The River Styx is lovely this time of year and the banks are an excellent picnic spot.” Wyll joked. “Guys...thank you....” Karlach bit her lip, eyes glistening as she held them both close to her.

Octavia smiled at Gale as she looked around at everyone gathered in the room. “You know, when I was a little girl back at the creche, I never imagined I would be able to observe so many istik in one place.” She was still writing in her notebook as she sat by his side, her head against his chest, feeling the thrum of magic beneath his skin. “I want to thank you for being kind to me, for letting me get close.”

Gale chuckled, running a hand gently through Octavia's pale hair. “Is this where you tell me you plan to whisk me away to your creche and perform experiments? Because I have to warn you, I'm not entirely sure the orb will stay dormant under a scalpel.” “No!” Octavia gave him a playful shove. “I am serious! Most people chased me away or my questions bothered them, but not you.” She continued earnestly. “You had questions too, you cared about who I was, who my people are...you got to know Lae'zel and Kroger...and now I want to get to know the people closest to you a bit better too.” She smiled gently. “And that is why when this is all over, I want to go to Waterdeep with you. I want to get to know Tara, I want to meet this infamous 'Morena Dekarios'.” Gale laughed, scratching the back of his neck and blushing a bit. “Ah! Well, I must say, I am certain mother will be glad to hear it, she would like you a lot, I think....I just hope you're prepared for her. She may have a little notebook of her own prepared.” Octavia smiled. “A woman after my own heart, I think we will get along famously.” ---- The moment of respite passed by too quickly and Sentry, Jaina, Kroger, Wyll, and Astarion stepped out into the chaos and bloodshed of The Grand Design in progress yet again, Orpheus at their side, making their way deeper into the ruins of the upper city. As they passed the bloodied bodies of patriars, their faces still twisted into expressions of terror, Sentry was reminded of Tomi's favorite story of the night she'd slaughtered her family and come to the temple of Bhaal. He looked at every face and imagined each one a perfect mirror of Tomi's unsettling perfection with the last one standing gazing down in her blood stained gown and smirking. He had loved that story when he first came to the temple.

He could see as he looked beyond the bodies to the ruined buildings so many places he recognized. The restaurant he had gone with Enver on the first...well...he supposed...date. The book shop that had been such a disappointment with its lack of copper dreadfuls. Oh, Vanthampur Manor, he almost chuckled at the memory of the meeting he'd attended there with Enver, he wondered privately how that deal had panned out in his absence. Not well, he supposed, considering that Baldur's Gate was still very much not overrun with Zariel's forces and he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Vanthampurs since he'd been back in the cities. “Damn, I kind of liked that lady too, she was funny.” “What are you talking about?” Jaina raised an eyebrow. “What lady?” “Oh, no, just something I was remembering, I haven't been to the upper city in a long time.” he replied as they picked their way across the bodies and debris. Every now and then a choke point of cultists cropped up in their way, but a quick call to arms brought the fury of their allies down. Sentry had to admit, he was particularly impressed by Rolan's contribution, staring with pride and respect at the murderous fire storm that charred their enemies to ash and swept them away. “We're nearly there...just a little further, I think one last climb.” Kroger informed them as he stared up at a tall tower, at the top of which a protrusion almost like a spinal chord hung. “I am very much not looking forward to the climb, though.” “The trick is not to look down.” Wyll gave him a dashing smile.

“Easy enough to say, but in practice...” The githyanki gulped as he watched Sentry begin his ascent, followed by Jaina. The climb wore on their already aching bodies and the height was dizzying. Sentry could feel the tell tale ache of an on-coming nose bleed and Jaina began to feel pity for the fish she and Tibs had caught and raised out of the ocean as children. Finally, they arrived on the platform atop the city, the ridges of the crown atop the brain. Kroger frowned as he watched a red dragon flutter atop the brain, landing, and Jaina and Sentry joined his displeasure at the sight of The Emperor upon its back. “Well, if it isn't the consequences of our actions.” Sentry chuckled with a shrug. “Well, let's make it the consequences of his instead.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and raised his voice. “HEY! You don't have to do this! You really don't have to side with the gods damned Nether Brain just because Kroger freed Orpheus, you can still be on the right side!” The Emperor did not dignify Sentry with a response, only glared and clenched his fists, pods emerging from the ground. From one pod, A tall, good looking male orc with black hair streaked with silver stumbled, dressed in the clothing of a bard. From another, a handsome lean muscled Githyanki with dark hair and a silver armor. Still another yielded a tall, muscular woman with beautiful red hair and the garb of a knight. Another revealed a handsome young man with pale hair and blue eyes in paladin armor. “Is that what you were hoping for, be honest, I won't be upset.” Sentry whispered to Astarion, looking from him to the dream figure. “Is now really the time for that conversation?” Astarion raised a brow. The final pod opened to reveal a tall, slender old woman in paladin armor, her iron grey curls pulled back from her face and her golden eyes trained on Sentry. “You're right, it's not.” Sentry nodded solemnly and then turned to The Emperor with a look of fury. “Oh that is it! I told you how I felt about you impersonating my mum!” He drew his halberd. “I know everything about you.” The Emperor replied. “Your thoughts, your feelings, your weaknesses...and so do they.”

“Clearly not anymore if you would still choose Gerren to try and get a response from me!” Jaina scoffed, glaring at the orc. “We must get to the center of the crown, that portal over there!” Orpheus interrupted pointing towards the swirling portal in the distance. “Sentry, can you get him there safely if we have your back?” Wyll asked, looking to the tiefling. Sentry looked across the battle field from the dragon to The Emperor, to the strange clone beings. He breathed deeply and nodded. “Yes, I can do it...Hey, you guys be safe.” It took one second for all hell to break loose, Sentry and Orpheus began to make their way as quickly as they could towards the portal. The enemy forces made their way towards them, but Jaina called down an ice storm, the ground beneath them slicking and leading them to slip and fall prone, allowing the others to get the jump on them. The battle was a blur of spells and blades, Sentry could not let his focus slip, though, he had to get Orpheus to the crown. He had to see this through. He yanked Orpheus out of the way of a torrent of fire from the massive dragon, pulling him forward as fast as he could. The tiefling shielding the illithid with his body as the hurried forward, pushing through the portal. Not long after, Wyll and the others hurried in behind them, the party finally facing off against their final foe. “No....I cannot...Will not...submit!” The brain cried out. “Good thing we're not asking you to submit, we're just asking you to die.” Sentry shot back. The brain fought viciously, the very ground on which the party stood beginning to crumble around them. Jaina swiftly extended Umberlee's blessings to the others, saving them from an untimely plummet and allowing them a moment to find safety on more solid ground. Orpheus held focus on the nether stones as a barrage of spells and arrows assaulted the brain. Finally, it began to weaken, it began to falter. Its mind reached pleadingly for Sentry. “No...please...join me! Spare me! Become Absolute!”

“It's like I told The Emperor...” Sentry frowned. “I don't want to do that!” And he nodded to Orpheus, who tightened his hold on the power in his hands, his psionic power squeezing the last bit of life from the brain. And then...they were falling. Sentry closed his eyes tightly, bracing himself until he felt a pair of strong hands under his arms. “Did you think I'd let you fall, my friend?” Aylin asked with the kind of heroic smile Sentry certainly hoped he was capable of as well. “Now come, I would be a poor knight indeed if I could not bear two friends to safety.” She sailed towards Astarion's plummeting form, nodding to Sentry to reach out for him. Kroger closed his eyes, wondering who he could pray to now, in what he was sure was his final moment, when psionic energy bore him into the air, leaving him to gently float. Orpheus, nodded to him, floating on the same psionic energy by his side. Jaina closed her eyes and thrust out her hands, lacing her fingers with Wyll's as she called out to her goddess, the whipping winds of a storm over the harbor catching both of them and buoying them gently on the salty air. She opened her eyes and smiled, Wyll smiled back as the two of them sailed slowly and gently back to the ground. As the dust cleared, the party reunited at the harbor on the edge of the pier. Jaina could see her father and brother tending to the wounded near Umberlee's temple. Her mother and Flood Tide Grey administered last rites to the dead and dying. Umberlee's faithful had stood against the illithid empire and won the day, she thought. Kroger stood with Orpheus, gazing sadly at the prince as Lae'zel and Octavia approached alongside Kithrak Voss. “I'm sorry, your majesty...” Kroger murmured. “This was all just another way I didn't think things through.” “But still we thwarted The Grand Design, and still our people will rally around my memory. The sacrifice I made will not be in vain, Kroger of Creche K'liir. You and your kin must spread my name, spread what happened here, across the Astral Sea...it must be worth it.”

Kroger nodded solemnly. “I will...Should I....Should we leave you two alone?” He looked from Voss to Orpheus and both nodded solemnly, Voss' silver sword in his hand at the ready. Sentry smiled at Astarion, taking his hands gently. “We did it! We survived! We survived everything and now we're free.” He grinned. Astarion smiled back, squeezing Sentry's hands tightly. “We are...and I intend to enjoy every...” His expression shot to a wince of pain and then a look of terror. “No...” He winced, pulling back from Sentry. The tiefling could see the sun begin to burn his lover's skin. “Well, it was nice while it lasted...” Astarion lamented, turning and rushing towards the shadows. Sentry hurried after him, already undoing his cloak and preparing to shield Astarion with it. The city would rebuild itself, the friendships forged would remain. There was time now. Without parasites gnawing at their minds, without masters and gods looming over them, without a deadline counting down to their final hours every moment, for now, there was peace.

[glacialswordsman-a]

1oo :' )) with benny :' )))

∗ 1OO﹕ sender  has  just  died ,  receiver  finds  out . | prompt

An emergency assembly had been called at the headquarters of the Knights in the Gods-forsakened late hours of the night, causing everyone’s nerves to be completely on edge. Something must have happened, and they all knew, if it wasn’t for the way that the atmosphere became deathly still.

Kaeya was fashionably late, as always, figuring that it certainly cannot be that serious.

“…the passing of Bennett from Mondstadt’s Adventurer’s Guild.”

The door to the headquarters shut with a loud, heavy thud, as Kaeya stood at the entrance completely frozen.

He stared at Huffman, who was making the announcement to all the rest, his brain struggling to catch up on what he just caught the tail-end of.

Surely…surely, he heard wrong...?

“… Captain Kaeya,” Huffman said, his voice careful and gentle, as all faces turned towards him. Stop it... Why is everyone looking at him like that?

Like they're sorry?

“Repeat what you just said, Huffman.”

“I—… It is with a heavy heart, Captain, that we announce the passing of Bennett from Mond—,”

Kaeya didn’t even let the man finish as he practically blinked before him from how fast he crossed the distance between them. “WHERE is he?!”

“C-Captain, please—,”

“Where is my BABY BROTHER?” he howled, his expression manic as his hands completely frosted over, threatening to freeze the Knight he held onto in an unrelenting grip. The other Knights were sent into a frenzy as they tried to calm Kaeya down, pleading for him to release Huffman. He was merely a messenger!

“H-He’s— his body has been taken in by the Cathedral—, it’s… Captain, you shouldn’t see him. There’s not much to see.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“We couldn’t find all the pieces of him—!"

Hearing that made Kaeya’s heart halt as his world spun way too fast on its axis. He heaved as he let go of Huffman, his hands trembling violently as his eye shrank into a pinpoint.

He ran.

The Knights called out after him desperately while Kaeya booked it towards the Cathedral, tears burning his eyes red as breathing began to hurt all too much for him to bear. He stumbled and fell way too many times to count as he vaulted over the steps, his knees scraping and hands bleeding from the ice suddenly breaking and digging into them after landing on them over and over again.

The nuns gasped at the sight of their once esteemed, calm, collected Kaeya having become completely undone. His face was completely wet from his tears, the eye beneath his patch feeling tacky and gummy and just so, so gross.

“Please—sisters, let me see him, please—,” he begged, fallen to his knees and pathetically dragging himself towards someone, anyone who would help him. Anyone who would tell him it's not true. They looked at each other worriedly, and a little fearfully, before one of them graciously guided him towards a mound covered by a white blanket.

“Captain Kaeya… It may be best if you don’t look—,” one of them attempted to say before he completely yanked the cover off the scattered pieces of his baby brother.

His baby brother whom he swore to protect. His baby brother whom he promised to his sister that he would keep him safe. It was his one job. His one fucking job—! She placed everything into him, her dying wish was for her flesh and blood to live! Her own prince couldn’t even keep his promise!

He wailed at the very sight of Bennett’s mangled body—or what was left of it. His knees landed on the marble floors with loud CRACKS, his hands gripping helplessly onto his brother’s severed one, the only one that was left, as he screamed and cursed Celestia. Cursed them for having cursed him, a mere child. An innocent, bright young boy who had no choice!

A nun silently placed Bennett’s dulled, grey vision on the bed near Kaeya’s head as he pressed his forehead to those fingers he used to hold so carefully, so protectively. His peripheral caught sight of the vision as he shakily moved to grab it, choking and spluttering on sobs as he held it close to his heart.

He failed.

    He failed his baby brother.

[eroaneki]

I'm starting to wonder if, fundamentally, my partner and I just need different things. He keeps telling me I don't talk to him, that he needs to get inside my head to know what I'm thinking or feeling. It's like this desperate need to create what I feel is an unhealthy bond with one another where you coexist together. He NEEDS that in order to feel loved and wanted.

Like yesterday he was complaining to me how I never talk to him about my therapy sessions, and I told him I never even thought that would be something he wants to discuss, because to me that's private. That's my time to discuss whatever it is I want to discuss in a safe setting. If I had to come home and talk about everything I spoke about in therapy, I wouldn't talk at all.

Well, he got upset with me over it and said "why don't you think I would care about that? Why do you keep thinking I don't give a shit about you emotionally?" And quite honestly I didn't know what to say because it was such a completely wrong take that my brain just shut off and I immediately left the conversation mentally. Internally I was like "this has gone way beyond anything I can comprehend right now and I have no idea how to steer it back" so I just noped the fuck out.

It started with a conversation about us moving. We have no plan as of now so I suggested we take over my mother's house because my mother has officially voiced a desire to downsize and move out of her house. I suggested it only as a means for us to get started finally since I'm fucking 33 next week and it turned into this whole back and forth of "if we do that then we're stuck here, I haven't given up hope on moving, I don't know where the hope has gone we had such a good conversation last year about moving, etc."

Yeah. Last fucking year. Then your dad got sick and shit got delayed. So to make up for lost time, this is something I'm suggesting. Because YOU keep talking about not wanting your first kid at 35. You're 34. Hello? I'm trying to offer solutions to help us?

I just feel like he's gaslighting me at this point, whether he means to or not. I don't think it's malicious. I just genuinely don't think he sees anything wrong with his outlook on things and how he perceives things. I've suggested like 10 times that he goes to therapy, especially because he has things about his dad and his dad's passing he wants to discuss. I've established a very clear boundary with him that I cannot handle conversations about death and grieving right now.

I'm here if he needs a hug or needs to just say "I'm sad," but I can't handle conversations about how his dad looked when he died and how he can't get it out of his head, etc. I've said multiple times to him I don't have the tool available to help him through that, because tbh that's like a ptsd thing and should be handled professionally.

Well, he's upset that he can't talk to me about it. "Wouldn't you want me to be able to talk to you about it?" is what he says to me. I told him yes, of course, but when you talk to me about it, it negatively impacts me and my overall well-being. Because then my mind is flooded with images of rows of reanimated corpses laying in hospital beds all with death breathing. And then I panic. I don't want that for myself. I think that's a fair boundary to place.

Our conversation left off yesterday with him passive aggressively saying he's going to stop asking me about therapy and stop trying to dig into my head, and that if I want to talk he's there. But it was passive aggressive because he stopped talking to me for the rest of the day yesterday. Didn't go like "alright, is there anything else you wanna do today?" Just stopped talking to me, went in the bedroom and played video games all day.

Oh and he was rummaging through the fridge yesterday and like binged on food last night. Was about to eat old pasta when I said I made quesadillas, you can have one. Because the other one was supposed to be my lunch for work.

Well. He ate both. So now I have no lunch for work and will have to buy something. And if I bring it up to him he's gonna say "you should have told me you were going to eat it for work," or "you should have sectioned it in a different container." Like, he didn't think for a minute that the reason there were two was because maybe she's taking the other half for work. Just went completely over his head. Not even taken into consideration.

Starting to realize why I feel so insignificant. I feel like a punching bag sometimes for him. Everything I do is wrong. And when I try communicating that to him, I get gaslit into thinking the problem is me.

I'm so miserable, dude. I keep fantasizing about people who will love me in a way I want rather than having to conjure up attraction and sexual desire. And again, I don't think he's doing any of this maliciously. He's just fucking oblivious to this shit to the point where it sucks the literal life out of me.