#not gonna tag mm link but hes there

[xaeorian]

idk art from last few months

quality varies lol. all sketches though. some of these are for fics i’ve enjoyed 👁️👁️please ignore sky’s hands

[featherlouise]

The day I stop being afraid to draw wrinkles it's over for y'all

[snailtaco]

I think about him a lil too much to be normal

[moonstandardtime]

i want to put link in isat. im sure hed do fine. the heros spirit endures

[waywardsalt]

mmmm a while(ish) back i wrote out a scene from one of my loz aus (the one with an actual name, 'in the court of the crimson king', [often shortened to just 'crimson king']) so uhhhh i edited it a bit to account for some changes made since then and decided to share it here!

(if this is difficult to read for any reason let me know and ill just paste the text in normally)

this was also my first time actually writing bellum for real as opposed to how it works in peus so im still a bit shaky with him

this is meant to be a flashback scene for... somewhere within the story, a lot of the more specific plot details of this au are still murky, but it's the most developed one and most likely to be the next au i actually write. its fun and older than i expected, since my friend was able to find and share some old documents i had shared with him a few years ago and i was surprised to find an early draft for this au in there.

the basic idea of this au is that it is set in a semi-industrial hyrule city, separated into segments (districts?), each of which is run by an anonymous leader who handles both the general matters of their segment as well as being in charge of a lot of crime. bellum is one of the leaders in this scenario.

linebeck lives with his adoptive family (link, aryll, and their grandmother) and helps them make ends meet by going off every other week to earn money through jobs. due to money often being very tight, linebeck secretly moonlights as an urban legend-type figure known as the 'demon of the gray moon', and takes extra jobs ranging from theft to spying to murder, often working directly for bellum, who is a close friend he's known since childhood and the one who helped him cultivate and bring into reality the persona of the demon.

(i need to somehow shorten this synopsis, but there's a lot going on from the start and i have yet to even figure out how things begin, so... it's a work in progress. the plot that takes place has some elements of wind waker and a little bit of phantom hourglass as well as kind of being its own thing)

[tojipie]

BABES i love ur writing sm ugh can i request a how prisoner toji met the love of his life? mwah thank you

prison bf series linked here !

content: (p in v smut, car sex, fluff, angst, fem!reader)

you met toji on a weeknight during the short time you worked as a waiter in the city.

the restaurant was empty, save for him at a table in the corner. it was 30 mins before closing time, and the older man showed no signs of leaving. whether that was to your chagrin or your delight was still unclear.

“so that’s the foie gras and the bottle of La Grande Dame?” you ask sleepily, setting the meal down with a shaky hand.

“that’s right.” the raven haired man tells you, pouring himself a glass of the ridiculously pricey wine. “thanks kid.”

to say that you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified. the man in front of you was gorgeous, broad with raven hair and a deep scar running the height of his lips. you’d be blushing if it weren’t for the fatigue that’d settled throughout the length of your body. 9 hour shifts were no joke.

toji glances over at you, taking in the tremble of your hands. you’re a sweet little thing, probably new to the college you attend, working past midnight to pay off whatever you still owe from last semester.

“hey.” he whispers, motioning to the table, “sit down for a little.”

you glance around the restaurant in horror, he’s not talking to you right? he can’t be. you slowly let him lead you into the chair that lies opposite to his, sighing at the relief you feel in your thighs and shoulders.

“thank you.” you mumble, laying your head down on the cool wood of table. he chuckles at that, watching you rub the aches from your neck and shoulders. you don’t care who sees, much less if this interaction costs you your job.

“tired?” he teases, pushing his plate towards you.

“have some, pretty girls need to eat.”

“mm no thank you. i don’t like duck.” you mumble, letting the deep bass of his laughter lull you right to sleep.

you were fired within minutes, that much is obvious. doomed to hand in your little name tag and apron while the raven haired man bickers with your manager at the door.

“you call yourself a businessman? you work her like a fucking dog and you think that makes you a pimp or something? i told her to nap. she fucking needed the sleep!”

you tug on the sleeve of his suit jacket, urging him to follow you out the door. toji sighs, running hand through his hair.

“it’s ok.” you tell him, “i was gonna quit before spring break came anyways.”

sleeping on the job at a Michelin star restaurant probably wasn’t the best course of action. though it wasn’t all bad, you did end up receiving the best fuck of your life that same night.

“oh my god—fuck! oh my god.” you pant, digging your fingernails into the driver’s seat headrest. the raven haired man ruts into you from below, wrapping both hands around your waist to use as leverage.

“shit, you’re a nice piece of ass kid.” he mutters, reaching down to rub your little button with the pad of his thumb. you feel your stomach erupt in flames at the crude compliment. why hadn’t you tried fucking customers before?

you hang onto the back of the seat for dear life, wailing as you drip all over his thighs.

“look, that’s all for me?” he asks, pulling your cheeks apart to see where the two of you connect. the older man leans forward to suck on your neck, voice shaky with the force of his impending climax.

“you’re gonna make me fucking cum, you know that? fuck.” the way he holds you so sweetly deeply contrasts the filth he spews right into your skin. you’ve never been this cock-drunk in your life, babbling nonsense in the back of a horrifyingly spacious bmw while a man you met an hour ago pummels your cunt open.

it’s quiet as the two of you drive back to your place. toji’s suit jacket is draped around your shoulders, shielding you from the frigid night air. the windows are cracked to let the cold in, no doubt to try and get all the glass in the car to unfog.

jesus. you just want to go to bed.

“this is me.” you tell him, gathering your bag from the floor to enter your apartment. the raven haired stranger slips you a card with a number on it. you pocket it and thank him, giddy at his implication of seeing you again.

“i had fun tonight.” you tell him shyly, leaning over to peck the scar on his mouth. he groans, pulling you towards him to kiss your forehead.

“you take care of yourself ok? no more dead end jobs.” you nod, kissing him again.

“here.” he says sternly, slipping a rubber-banded roll of cash through the opening in your purse.

you pause, stomach turning sour at the gesture.

“i’m not a hooker, you don’t need to pay me just because we had sex.” you mutter, digging in your bag to give the money back.

“you know that’s not why i gave it to you.” he tells you plainly. tucking a loose strand of your behind your ear.

“do what you need to do, pay off what you need to pay, and then call me so i can take you out on a real date.”

you pause, looking at the ground shyly.

“ok?” he asks.

you nod, reaching to intertwine your fingers.

“ok.”

tag list ! <3 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies

[gallaghersgal]

Smoke & Mirrors || Lip Gallagher

chapter one of BORDERLINE.

pairing: lip gallagher x fem!reader (nickname: MK)

warnings & tags: the start of a SLOWburn. idiots with tension. mature for mentions of violence, smoking, swearing, canon typical dialogue and whatnot. y'all've seen the show!

chapter summary: lip gallagher has been your best friend since before you could remember. he's the smartest person you know, so it astounds you how someone like him can be oh so stupid. you're committed to investing in his future, even if he isn't. you won't let your best friend end up stuck on the southside.

a/n: ummmm hi!! wrote basically this whole thing in the last 24hrs. it's unedited and tbh if i look at it for one more second im gonna explode!! enjoy <33

wc: 2.9k

The crisp October air sends a chill down your spine as you usher your younger sister Caroline out the door for school. She groans and rolls her eyes when you grab her by the handle of her backpack, pulling her back to adjust her scarf. At a mere thirteen years old she already carries the same attitude you did at sixteen. “Whatever you’re gonna say, I don’t wanna hear it. You were just sick, dad’ll have my head on a platter if I don’t make you bundle up.”

She stomps her foot, a stupid, childish action that has you mentally swearing to never have kids of your own. Helping raise this one was enough as it is. “It’s not even-” she starts, but you cut her off.

“I said I don’t wanna hear it. Wear your fucking scarf or I’m telling mom you make that tutor kid do your math homework.” You shove her head gently after securing the scarf around her neck and let her stomp down the stairs. “Don’t be a brat.”

She doesn’t answer, instead starting down the street towards the bus stop. Cigarette smoke wafts over the morning air from the Gallagher house. You turn to see Lip on the front stoop, blood shining on his brow as he smokes. You feel a twist in your gut. What did he get himself into this time, you think. The repetitive motion of locking the door comes like second nature and you spend the thirty odd seconds it takes worrying about the boy across the street.

When you turn towards the Gallagher house Caroline is already ahead of you, not waiting until she passes the chain-link fence to call out, “what happened to your face?”

You catch up in time to hear him scoff, “good morning to you too, Kit-Kat,” pulling out her childhood nickname, the one she still hates, that he gave to her when she was barely four. “‘S nothing. Battle scars an’ shit.”

“What the fuck kinda battle did’ya get yourself into?” you ask, leaning down to take his chin between your thumb and forefinger. The cut isn’t too bad, a lot of blood for a relatively small abrasion, but the skin around his eye is already blossoming a dark bruise. Lip stares at you as if to say ‘not in front of the kid,’ and you nod, fishing a five dollar bill out of your pocket. You were saving it for work, but Caroline’s silence is worth more. She raises an eyebrow, to which you snap, “just don’t tell mom, ‘kay? And don’t skip just ‘cause I'm skipping.”

Caroline turns to leave and you extend a hand to Lip, pulling him to stand. Eager fingers reach for his burnt-down cig when he goes to drop it, taking the final hit for yourself before stubbing it out on the sidewalk. “Greedy. Gotta buy y’own pack,” he remarks with a smirk. All it takes is a second to get back across the stress, and once you’re inside he unwraps the scarf from his neck. 

Your eyes catch on his bruised knuckles and you tilt your head to the side with a silent question, you gonna tell me what happened? He sighs, hearing you loud and clear despite not speaking a single word. “Got into it with Frank. He was givin’ Ian shit for no fuckin’ reason.”

“Mm,” you nod, and catch his hand after he runs it nervously through his curls. The bruises there aren’t as bad as the one on his eye, Frank must’ve only gotten one good, drunken swing in. No cuts either, which was good. For all his tough guy exterior, Lip Gallagher couldn’t stand the sting of peroxide. The less you need the better, you think, and a grin plays at your lips when you glance up at him, holding his injured hand up. “Think y’can roll a joint with these?”

His laugh is like music to your ears, revelling in the first grin you’ve seen from him this morning. “Yeah, yeah I can do that, y’wanna jus’ skip the whole day? We could catch a movie ‘r somethin’,” he suggests, following you upstairs to your room.

You shake your head, opening the door to your room for him. “Can't. Calc test in third period. Sit down, ‘m gonna get the first aid kit.” While you get the kit from the shelf in your closet you hear him open your desk drawer, pulling out the grinder and weed jar you keep hidden at the back.

“You got a shirt or somethin’ I could change into? This one smells like Frank’s fuckin’ booze,” Lip scoffs. He shrugs the tee over his head and lights another cigarette, his eyes following your every move with that same boyish twinkle you’d grown fond of over the years. It was always good to remember things weren’t getting to him, not too bad. 

You cast a glare in his direction, silently scolding him, ‘you know better, let me open the window,’ but he only grins in response. Pale morning light illuminates the room when you pull back your blackout curtains and crack the window. The city is still quiet–or, as quiet as it gets in Chicago–and the sounds of gentle wind and birdsong fall softly on your ears.

You settle at his side, first aid kit in one hand and a gray and black sweater of his in the other. Curious fingers reach for a small cut on his shoulder. “What’s this one from?” You trace the gash. It isn’t deep either, but it’ll need to be cleaned so it doesn’t get infected.

“It’s, uh, ’s nothin,” he brushes you off, to which you shoot him a glare. That sets him straight. In a low mumble he simply states, “beer bottle.”

Rage seethes inside you, your jaw tensing as you wet a cotton ball with peroxide. You keep any comments to yourself, not sure how LIp will react. You’re aware of his more than complicated familial relationships–you’d grown up with thim, seeing Frank’s drinking get worse, and the aftermath of Monica leaving–but if there was one constant with the Gallagher kids, it was family first, above everything. You had your opinions of Frank, and you knew Lip shared your distaste more than anything, but that didn’t take away the sensitive nature of the topic. So, you stay quiet, dabbing at the wound with a gentle hand. The sting draws a sharp hiss from him, and it’s then that you realize how flushed he is, his cheeks, neck and chest are a soft pink color. Graciously, you pretend not to notice, so as not to embarrass him further.

When the cut is cleaned and covered with a bandage Lip takes his sweater, pulling it over his head. It leaves his hair mussed and he smoothes a hand through his curls while you tilt his chin up, inspecting the cut on his brow. Blue eyes stare up at you with a vulnerability you’re not used to seeing from the boy you grew up with. At least you know he’s comfortable with you. That’s all.

Comfortable. Friendly. Nothing more. The same as it’s always been.

The way it’s meant to be.

“Quit starin’, get me fixed up so we can smoke this,” Lip grumbles, gesturing towards the rolling tray in his lap. You laugh at that, heart quickening in your chest. Tensions between the two of you had been thick as of late, but underneath it all things remained the same.

“Glad to know you’ve got your priorities straight,” you snort, cleaning up the second wound with peroxide. He takes it better this time, more prepared for the sting, but you still catch the way a few pained tears brim in his bright eyes. 

Soft, parted lips rest under your fingers as you clean the final abrasion. The bruising is the worst here, deep purple hues present across his mouth and down to his chin. He finishes rolling as you’re wiping at the blood that pooled below his lip, a deep red trail spilling down his chin. Your delicate motions are interrupted by Lip bringing the joint up to seal it, licking along the edge of the rolling paper. 

“‘M almost finished, be patient,” you murmur, focused on keeping the disinfectant out of his mouth. A moment later you pull back, swiping vaseline over the split before wiping the excess on his jeans. Payback for interrupting your tending to his wounds. “There. All patched up. Say ‘thank you nurse,’” you tease with a grin.

He’s already flicking the lighter on, holding the flame against the end of the joint to take the first hit for himself. You busy yourself with cleaning up the first aid supplies until he passes it off to you. Thick, earthy smelling smoke flows from his parted mouth, which lifts into a mischievous grin as he hands you the joint. “My lip’s busted up pretty fuckin’ bad. Think y’could kiss it better?”

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at his blunt proposal. “Shut up,” you retort with a sharp laugh, before you can even consider it.

Lip throws on an exaggerated frown, “oh, c’mon MK. You know it’d be so fucking hot- ow!” He flinches, chest shaking with laughter as you throw your remote at him. “Okay! Okay, I know I know. You’re not one of my g-”

“Little ghetto girlfriends,” you tease, repeating the drunken dig an alibi patron had once thrown at Lip. 

“Exactly.”

You shake your head, laughing at him for a moment. “You’re never getting in my pants Gallagher. I’ve known you since we were three. It’s wrong,” you lie. Lip is your best friend, the same role he’s filled your entire life, side by side since the two of you were in diapers. But your rejection stems from something deeper than that.

Lip Gallagher is inconsistent. You can’t exactly call him unfaithful if he never truly commits to one girl, but he’s not one for relationships. He’s flighty. He runs from affection. More often than not he buries his true feelings under snark and insults, weed, booze, and–when all else fails–aggression. That doesn’t mean you didn’t love him, it doesn’t mean you had no feelings for him, it just gives you reason to brush off his advances. For now, it can remain a little game between the two of you.

Months ago, when these unwanted feelings began to blossom in your chest, you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t be just another girl he messed around with. You aren’t willing to let him mess this thing up for the both of you.

Eager to change the subject you move to your desk, pulling out an informational packet from MIT. Before you can get a word out Lip is shaking his head, casting a skeptical glare in your direction. “Hey, come on. I just want you to apply.” You lean to hand the packet over but he reaches for the joint instead, which you pull away quickly.

“No you come on, why would I apply to MIT, seriously,” he shoots back, refusing to take the folder from your hand. He settles more comfortably in your bed, laying back against the pillows and staring up at the ceiling instead of meeting your eyes. “Bunch ‘f ivy league reject pricks ridin’ on daddy’s money. You’re lucky I’m even applying to schools in town.” Greedy hands reach forward for the joint again and you yield with a sigh, passing it over. As an afterthought, you toss the packet to him as well.

“Just consider it, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll think about it,” he says. You don’t need anything but the way he avoids your eyes to know it’s a lie. 

You purse your lips, throwing an icy stare his way. Lip Gallagher may be your best friend, but you’re not going to take any of his shit. “Have you even got any applications in?”

The question seems to take him by surprise, tendrils of smoke curling from the corner of his parted lips. “I’ve got a few,” another lie.

“Really? What schools,” you question, head tilted to the side with a knowing look. “Don’t lie to me, I know you better than anyone. I can tell.”

He laughs at that, shaking his head in disbelief. “Fine, you got me. I haven’t applied anywhere yet.” The end of the joint has a good stretch of ash, which he’s trying to keep precariously attached while he takes another hit. 

“Scoot,” you mumble, grabbing your own binder of college information packets. He stretches one arm back towards your desk to snag your heart shaped ashtray and knocks the ash off, then lays the tray in the space between your bodies. You settle in beside him, your knees propped comfortably over the throw pillow that always ended up in the middle of your bed. One hand takes the joint and the other opens your binder. 

Pages upon pages of information, campus maps, scholarship pamphlets, and your hand written tuition calculations make Lip go a little cross eyed as you flip towards a page with a yellow tab. “Okay. Here, look,” you point at the information you’d circled, reading Engineering B.S., training the Innovators of Tomorrow. “UI Urbana-Champaign. Great engineering program–” you flip the page over “–and scholarships for kids from underserved communities.”

You settle the joint between your lips, flipping through a few more pages. After a deep inhale you use it to gesture towards the page. “Or UChicago, that way you’d be close to home. They’ve got this thing called inner city promise. Smart kids, like you, from certain high schools with certain academic records and test scores can get full rides.” You run a finger down the short list, stopping at a familiar name and tapping it. “See? Lincoln Grove High School. You’d qualify, Lip.”

“‘M not some fuckin’ charity case,” he grumbles, snatching the burnt-down joint from your hand. “You’re a pain in my ass, y’know that?”

“Oh I’m a pain?” you snap, turning on your side to glare at him. “For what, believing in you? For not taking any of your self-deprecating, avoidant bullshit?”

He shrugs then, and the action is almost shy. He’s embarrassed. You have this innate ability to see him, the way no one else does. You scare yourself with it sometimes. “Just don’t know why you care so much,” he mumbles.

The sigh that leaves you is a deep, tired one. Convincing him of these things has always been difficult. For as smart as he is, Lip can be so infuriatingly stupid. “You’re smart, Lip. You’ve always been smart. I dunno what I would do if I went off to college and you stayed here. In this shithole.”

He doesn’t laugh the way you expect him to. He doesn’t brush it off. He just stares.

“We made a pact, did you forget?” you continue. He shakes his head silently, the far off look in his eyes letting you know he’s remembering that day. 

The day the two of you spent drinking by the pool. Making promises to each other. You’d said you would make it out, and you would do it together. You’d made Lip promise you that he’d give it a try, and stupidly you believed him. Or was it stupid? You’re not ready to give up yet. 

“I don’t want to do it without you,” you admit to him.

Lip looks at you, his blue eyes softening. “Do what without me?” You shake your head, scooting closer to rest your head on his shoulder. He stubs out the joint and wraps an arm around your shoulders. Friendly, comfortable affection. The kind you were used to. “C’mon MK, spit it out.”

“Any of it,” you return. “Don’t think I could get through another four years of school if you’re not doing it with me.”

“Yeah? What if we’re at different schools, dumbass,” he retorts, but his palm soothes across your arm, a contrast to his words. “You gonna follow me to MIT, since y’want me to go so bad?”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in your chest, turning to look up at him with a grin playing at your lips. He got what he wanted. He made you laugh. “I’ll call you every night.”

“Every night huh?” he says with a smirk. “Cockblocking me from a thousand miles away is just like you, isn’t it.”

You shove him playfully, sitting up to move the ashtray off your bed. The MIT packet lays somewhere at the foot of the bed and you search through the pillows to find it. Instead of handing it to Lip, you just tuck it into his backpack, handing the bag to him after. “Well yeah, can’t have you getting distracted by the chess team girls,” you joke back. 

He lays there in your bed, looking up at you with that stupid grin of his. All bared teeth and mischief, the same one you’d seen all those years ago. You stay silent for a moment longer before you stand, holding out a hand to pull him up. 

“You sure we can’t just skip?”

“No, ‘ve got a test, remember? Gotta keep my grades up if ‘m gonna follow you all the way to MIT,” you say, and shakes his head with a laugh. Maybe he’s coming around to the idea. “Come on, I’ll drive us.”

thanks so much for reading!! series masterlist here.

got something to say? stop by my inbox! looking for more fics? check out my masterlists!

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

ANOTHER CHAPTER ALREADY?!

I mean

I dunno what happened

It kinda wrote itself, I had no real hand in this

Please consult with my muses on the subject, I didn't know they were this cracked out tonight

Anyway awaaaay we gggoooooooooo

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x AFAB!Marine!Reader

Ch. 7 of something there's gonna be at least two more chapters

First Chapter link Previous Chapter link

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. He's discovered your secret, and your life hangs in the balance of his mercy.

Possible !!Trigger Warnings!! in this chapter!! Largely for imprisonment and psychological turmoil, though not necessarily psychological torture yet. I will say, for readers who are used to my writing characters with a relatively gentle depiction, I likely won't be taking quite as gentle of an approach here. There is some Yandere possessiveness prevalent here that I haven't written much before.

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later

Word Count: 3,095

Taglist: @i-am-vita @browneyedhufflepuff @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @littleleelee @nerium-lil @schanwow @dragon-bubs @animefreak818

I'm happy to add anyone that asks. Still flabbergasted that the list is this long.

I forgot to do a music thing last time bc I was so sleepy but I'mma do one this time but IT'S NOT FRATELLIS?? WHO IS EVEN RUNNING THIS BLOG?? SHOULD YOU CALL THE AUTHORITIES??

♫♬The Game- Disturbed♬♫

Tell me, exactly what am I supposed to do, now that I've allowed you to beat me?

Do you think that we could play another game? Maybe I could win this time

Dead, you were dead, he was going to kill you, and all he would have to do to get the job done would be to leave your right there in the shallows and let the tide slowly wash in until you were submerged, drained of strength and helpless.

To tighten his powerful grip around your neck until you ceased gasping for air.

To pull the golden cross from around his neck and plunge the small knife hidden within it into your torso, drag the sharp blade across your neck, watch the light leave your eyes.

So many ways he could kill you, in this very moment.

And yet his hand moved up your neck slowly, his grip unwavering as his fingers wrapped around your jaw instead. He tilted his head the slightest bit as he turned your head to one side, taking in your features with an air of both amusement and vague interest.

“And you were doing so well,” he said lightly, letting out a small sigh as he shook his head. You flinched as the rough pad of his thumb brushed across your cheek. “If you could have just refrained from making that silly little call to your boss last night—aw,” he added, an edge of mockery in his quiet words. “Did you think I was sound asleep the whole time? Poor thing.”

It hadn’t appeared as if he had done more than shift from his back to his side in the time you were gone last night—there had been absolutely no sign that he had gotten out of bed, not a single sound outside the cracked door of the study.

You should have known better.

“Though I must say, I do appreciate the vote of confidence.” Mihawk stood in a swift motion, tightening his grip around your jaw to pull you up with him, drawing a sharp gasp of alarm from you as your feet lifted a few inches from the ground. Still drenched in seawater, you didn’t even have the strength to lift your arms, held up only by his grasp, limp as a ragdoll. “‘No weaknesses.’ I’m almost flattered.”

You swallowed as he brought you closer, lifting his eyebrows a bit, the corner of his mouth curving the smallest bit into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Provided it wasn’t a lie. You have quite the penchant for fooling others, it seems.” He quirked his brow a bit higher, his eyes darting up and down your limp form before settling back on yours. “Well? Was it a lie?”

“Mm—n-no,” you managed to choke out weakly, your eyes wincing and beginning to burn as his fingertips dug harder into your jaw and cheeks. “No…”

“No?” he repeated lightly. “Now, I’m sure you can do better than that, considering how polite you were with your employer last night. And I’m afraid it’s not them you’re answering to anymore. Try again.”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes flickering down toward his hand. “N—no, sir,” you whimpered.

“Ah, much better. Now, then….” The spark of amusement remained present in his yellow eyes as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek once again. “I suppose we should get you back inside and dried off, yes? I’d hate to see you get sick, pet.”

Your stomach felt as if it had dropped out of your body when he lifted you abruptly and flung you over his shoulder, your consciousness wavering between the complete sapping of your strength from the seawater still drenching your clothes and the state of shock you were left in. You drifted in and out during the trek back to the castle, your muscles limp and useless. You didn’t jolt back to a remotely aware state until he heaved you off and dropped you onto the cold stone floor of an unfamiliar part of the castle.

“I do just hate to have to cage you after all this time,” he said as you gazed around, your eyes squinted against the darkness. Judging from the lack of windows, you were below the ground level—and this was confirmed when he lit a torch along the wall opposite the one you were leaning against. “Nearly two months, it’s been, hasn’t it? Hmm. How the time flies.”

The dim orange light of the flame expanded as he lit another, and you realized he had deposited you in a small, square cell. The stone walls and floor were the same as the rest of the castle, if a great deal dustier, but the heavy iron bars and door made it clear that you were in the dungeon beneath the fortress.

“But, you’ve really left me no choice,” he went on with a soft, disappointed sigh. You could just make out his silhouette against the flickering firelight, the rattle of chains as he dug around in the drawer of a heavy desk just within your line of sight. “At least for now. I can’t have you escaping before we have a proper discussion about…” He lifted a heavy pair of iron shackles, examining them before giving a short nod. “About several things, really.”

He stepped slowly into the cell, his pace one of leisure, and stopped a few feet away from you, looking down at your pitiful form as you leaned back against the stone wall of the cell, struggling to steady your breathing, shivering in your damp clothes. He frowned as he looked you up and down, and gave a nod toward you.

“Off,” he said, his voice low but commanding enough that you jumped slightly, your brow furrowing as you tried to discern his meaning. “Off,” he repeated. “Can’t have you getting sick. We have a great deal to talk about.”

Your clothes. You glanced down at the wet fabric clinging to your skin, your stomach turning—he was telling you to get out of your clothes.

“Oh, modest, are we?” he said dryly, lifting an eyebrow. He took another step forward, crouching in front of you. You flinched back a bit when he reached a hand out and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Two months you’ve spent constantly at my side. I’m certain I’ve changed clothes in your presence more than a handful of times.”

“I...I didn’t...look,” you whimpered out, swallowing, closing your eyes as your face flared with heat.

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed. “I did find that curious, but you were quite the curious little bird.” You opened your eyes when you heard the chains of the shackles clink lightly, and watched as he stood, rolling his eyes as he turned around, his back to you. “Fine,” he said. “You may keep your undergarments. They’ll dry quickly enough.”

You almost wished that he had just killed you out by the shore. The embarrassment, the utter humiliation of pulling your tank top over your head and letting it fall to the floor with the towering form of the swordsman only a few feet away was enough to make you wish you could drop dead on the spot. You fumbled with your belt buckle, the buttons at the fly of your pants, before kicking them off along with your boots, wrapping your arms around your knees and clenching your eyes shut, trembling from more than just the cold, damp air of the dungeon now.

You heard a rustle of fabric in front of you, and before you could open your eyes you felt the material land in a heap at your feet. You cracked an eye open and frowned at the white heap.

Glanced up at him, your eyes widening as you realized he had removed his flowy, ruffled shirt, his back and shoulders bare as he crossed his arms, still facing the door of the cell.

“Put it on,” he commanded, stepping out of the cell. “And quickly. I pride myself on many things, my dear pet, but patience is not among them.”

You were already picking up the shirt and shrugging it around your shoulders before he finished, fumbling with the buttons with unsteady hands. The shirt was large enough on your much smaller form that it covered you from your shoulders to more than halfway down your thighs, the hem brushing your knees as you tugged it down, staring down at the floor, listening to the chair at the desk scrape across the stone. He set it down in front of you and tossed the shackles down at your feet, taking a seat and crossing an ankle over his knee.

“Those as well,” he said.

The moment your hand touched the shackles, you felt what little strength you had managed to regain begin to drift away from your body all over again. He chuckled when you drew your hand back as if you had been shocked.

“Seastone,” he said. “I salvaged them from the wreckage of a Marine vessel a handful of years ago. Thought they might prove useful one day. Go on.” He nodded down at them as you briefly met his eyes. “Around your ankles. So long as you remain compliant, I will allow you the continued use of your hands. You may need them at some point.”

You didn’t dare ask what that might mean.

You did, however, do as he told you. The seastone shackles felt as if they weighed fifty or more pounds, and it took some effort for you to drag them up even to the height of your ankles and clamp them shut.

“Very good,” he commended, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms, his eyes never leaving you as you slumped back weakly against the walls. “Still such an obedient pet, aren’t you?” Every breath you drew in took a herculean effort, felt as if it might be the last you managed to draw before you passed out from sheer physical exhaustion. “Now, this is a first on my part. I’ve never been one to waste time taking prisoners. You ought to consider yourself privileged. Grateful for my continued hospitality despite your blatant betrayal.”

You swallowed, unable to do anything but give a weak nod.

He gave another small chuckle. “You’ve been trained to handle being the victim of a potential hostage situation,” he commented—it wasn’t a question. He cocked his head slightly to the side. “You’re quite small for a Marine. What rank are you, little bird?”

“Cadet,” you forced out—and, when he lifted an eyebrow, you quickly added, “s—sir.”

“Cadet,” he repeated, leaning back a bit further. “Hm.” He lifted a hand to his chin, his expression thoughtful as he brushed his thumb across his short goatee. “And they saw fit to send you after me.” You nodded again. “Your commanding officers either have a great amount of faith in your potential or they were trying to get rid of you. Which do you think it was?”

“T...they offered me the mission,” you said quietly. “I could have turned it down.”

“Faith in your potential, then,” he said lightly. “What a pity for them Of course, they weren’t wrong,” he went on, lowering his hand down to his knee, strumming his fingers there slowly. “You did play your role well. Well enough to fool that charming pet shop owner in Acacia, even. A veritable expert on the subject. You must have done your homework. Breezed through all your tests with flying colors. I did my own homework, as you know. Amid my reading, I recall mention that wounded or sick pets might show signs of decreased appetite. Interruption of sleep. In extreme cases, potentially isolating themselves from their owners. You see…” He tilted his head once more to meet your eyes, his gaze holding your own with an intensity that made it impossible for you to break the contact. “Had I not woken last night we might not even be having this conversation. Had I not noticed your absence and worried enough to go looking for you.”

Your worry over your mission. Your inability to eat or sleep regularly. Of course he had noticed. You were an idiot to think he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Had I not heard a voice coming from the study below my chambers,” he went on, lowering his voice, “you might have been able to complete your mission without a single hitch. I would have been forced to assume when you left that you had flown off somewhere to die.”

You flinched at that, closing your eyes and lowering your head.

“Oh, now what is this?” He chuckled. “Are we feeling guilty?”

“Yes.” You spoke through gritted teeth—there was no point in lying. You were already compromised, already at his mercy. “I…made the call last night because I…I couldn’t leave with nothing to show for it. Or without…” You swallowed once more, lowering your head to your knees. “I only had four days left. I was expected to slip away unnoticed and rendezvous with my commanding officers at a designated location before returning to Marineford to report on any potential weaknesses of yours I might have discovered.”

“And you claimed you found none,” he continued for you.

You nodded. “But...caring for another living creature is always a potential weakness,” you said quietly.

“Aaah.” You swallowed dryly, clenching your eyes shut tighter as you heard him push the chair back. The whisper of his boots on the stone floor as he took a step forward, the quiet rustle as he crouched down in front of you. “And you were unwilling to list your own presence as a potential weakness. Is that it?” You nodded again, and tensed as he caught your chin in his hand. “And here I’ve already admitted to having worried for the well-being of my pet. You certainly did do a stellar job, didn’t you, my little bird?”

His tone, his touch was almost gentle, despite that edge of persisting amusement at your predicament.

“Open your eyes.”

You obeyed his command once again—though your eyelids fluttered in your growing state of exhaustion brought on by the effects of the seastone shackles wrapped around your ankles, you did your best to maintain eye contact, only vaguely aware of his thumb brushing across your bottom lip as you gazed into his yellow irises.

“I may yet have use for you,” he murmured, his voice still light and amused. “I suppose you are a pretty little thing, if nothing else. And your abilities...well, you managed to fool me, now, didn’t you? Don’t,” he added, his tone sharpening as your eyes began to drift shut, and they shot back open. “There’s one more matter. You spoke of some offer while you were making your call last night. What is it?”

“W...warlord,” you forced out. “The World Government wants to offer pirates they consider too dangerous to combat status as ‘Warlords.’ No more than seven. Bounties expunged in exchange for an agreement to cease hostility against Marines and other World Government officials, and potentially being called upon to assist with other threats.”

“Warlords,” he repeated, letting out a quiet chuckle. “And you’ve been granted permission to extend me this offer?” You gave a small nod, blinking slowly, fighting to keep your eyes open. “Since you’ve reported to your commanding officers that I have no weaknesses they can exploit.” Another nod, and a quiet affirmative hum. “Mm-hmm,” he repeated, smirking. “I suppose it’s worth thinking over. At least until you’ve regained the ability to discuss the subject coherently.”

“Four days.” He lifted his eyebrows at your mumbling, waiting for you to continue. “Need to make contact in four days or they could send a Buster Call.”

“Ah.” His thumb brushed across your cheek, and you found yourself leaning unconsciously toward the warmth of his palm. “So they would sink this entire island into the depths of the ocean with you still on it, would they?” The hum you gave this time was neither affirmative nor dissenting—it was simply in acknowledgment that he had spoken at all, as your lessening coherency made it increasingly difficult to follow his words. “That does sound quite like the Marines. Heaven forbid they should have any loose ends to worry about.”

He expelled a slow sigh, one that might have been of resignation or annoyance, or perhaps some melding of both. Either way, the warmth of his breath across your face made your eyes drift shut, made you fall fully limp against the wall behind you.

You barely registered anything beyond that. Not his light shake at your shoulder in attempt to rouse you, his exasperated sigh as he caught you before you could fall sideways and hit your head against the stone floor.

Not his irritated grumble of, “Troublesome woman,” as he drew one of your hands up to cushion your head against the hard stone floor before he pulled himself to his feet to frown down at you.

To wonder why he hadn’t shoved his way through the door of his study the moment he heard your voice last night and throttled you in that moment.

To wonder why the hell he still had any concern at all for your continued safety and well-being.

You had spent two months, two months deceiving him, abusing his good will, masquerading as a loyal companion when you were nothing more than a dirty little spy.

His hands twitched into fists for a moment as he stared down at you, gritting his teeth. He could end your life right now. It would be only too easy. Crush your throat beneath the heel of his boot. Wrap a hand around your delicate neck until the labored rise and fall of your chest ceased entirely. You had already warned him of the Marines’ potential intent to destroy this island. He could dispose of you and leave on his own before that ever came to pass.

You shifted in your sleep on the cold stone floor, shivering slightly and laying a hand over the toe of one of his boots.

Mihawk swore under his breath, reaching behind him to drag the chair back into place and sit down heavily, crossing his arms over his chest as he surveyed your slight form below him on the floor covered only by his own shirt.

“What exactly am I supposed to do with you?” he grumbled under his breath, shaking his head, not completely aware himself of how his own gaze softened as he looked down at you. “Useless thing….”

His prisoner.

His pet.

His pretty little bird.

He would be damned if anyone but him were allowed to decide your fate.

First chapter and Previous chapter links again for your convenience

[noir-renard]

My second submission for Haunting Heroes' Guess That Artist game. This is my "if DPxDC were BotW while not, in fact, being a zelda game, exactly".

Here are a couple of other outfits:

The Atlanteans aren't exactly the Zora, but they're not not the Zora.

Danny in full Yeti gear with a shield he found in a field and an ice blade from the Yetis.

World building details beneath the cut

Details are in bullet points because I'm still working on various details

Maddie and Jack are Ancient Sheikah tech researchers (more like Jerrin than Purah or Robbie; they aren't Sheikah themselves, but Vlad is)

The shrines are portals/rifts to the Spirit Realm; every region has a few but they went inactive a while back (but recently became active again while still locked)

They became inactive because a demon king is sealed in the Spirit Realm; supposedly, heroes guarding the rifts disappeared to close the portal form the other side, locking themselves in the Spirit Realm with no way back

How to open the portals is a closely guarded secret and no one knows how to do it anymore exactly, but they know it involves ceremonial garments

Danny figures out how to open the one his parents are researching by accident and stumbles into the Spirit Realm

The general plot revolves around going back and forth between the Mortal Realm and the Spirit Realm, finding heroes of yore and the heroes who stepped up to replace them and figuring out how to stop the demon king from returning

Demon King is Pariah, BTW, and the ones trying to revive him are the League of Assassins

Gotham is a city in the Spirit Realm

This is gonna be a demon twins au

The Fentons live close to the Lost Woods/kokiri forest; they found Danny sitting on the shrine just outside the woods because "he was too old to stay with the kokiri anymore". They said "it's free baby" and took him in. He doesn't remember much from that time

Only someone born in the spirit realm can open the rifts. Danny finds out the fun way that he was born there (mid game boss fight ig)

Part of the game play revolves around catching ghosts and returning them to the Spirit Realm...but you can also release them during fights or puzzle solving or adventuring to produce certain effects

Basically, you work with the teen titans/young justice/etc in the Mortal realm and you work with the justice league in the spirit realm, but you also have to catch ghosts, and most importantly of all, collect outfits

Idk what the conclusion is but I'll probably write this someday

This au is inspired by botw, totk, oot, tp, mm, and other Zelda stories, but it's really a LoZ flavored story and not a LoZ crossover, so I'm not sure there's going to be a Zelda or a Link or a Ganon

I'll add more to this someday but I'll call the au Heroes of the Realm au if you want to find the tag later

[menlove]

Can you link the interview where Paul says he wishes he were a girl because of John…

I’m familiar with the one with Yoko where she says if Paul were a girl but not one where Paul says it himself.

Thanks!!

sorry i was going crazy trying to find this you should've seen me in a public coffee shop scrolling through my entire mclennon tag for this but here you go!

here's the important and insane bit that he really said out loud on CAMERA

"Mm. It was, yeah. Um, in our songwriting, I had signs that the group was gonna break up, because… I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away. And I understood that. I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, “Who’s this?” You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and… But you know I mean in this case I just sort of said, right – I mean, I didn’t say anything, but I could see that was the way it was going to go, and that Yoko would be very sort of powerful for him. So um, we all had to get out the way. I don’t blame her. You know, you can’t blame her for being the object of his love."

[m-jelly]

The hunt

Levi x fem!Reader

Modern AU, tattooed Levi, mafia Levi, established couple, mask play, Levi wears a Ghostface mask, chasing, smut, rough play, ropeplay, neck holding, safe word talk, dom Levi, aftercare.

It's Halloween and Levi knows you like Horror, so he decides to do something fun. Levi overheard some people at the base talking about mask-wearing and how it's hot. So, Levi talks with you, agrees to a few things before putting on a Ghostface mask, and chases you around his penthouse before tying you up and ravaging you in bed. Afterwards, he showers you with kisses and gives you wonderful aftercare.

This is a long smut. I got carried away.

No tagging cause of the mask kink, might not be for everyone.

Thank you @ladycheesington for talking with me about the idea and saying "write it"

Levi slammed the front door closed as arousal stirred inside him. The level of horniness inside Levi was extreme. As soon as he heard about the mask kink and glanced at the videos people were watching at the base, he knew he had to try it with you. From all the times the two of you had sex, you loved it when he was dominating you. He loved the and craved the good girl praise.

He moved through the penthouse and found you in your office typing away on your computer. He grabbed the doorframe and leaned a little. "Bunny?"

You kept typing. "Mm?"

His voice deepened as arousal consumed him. "Bunny." To him, you looked like a tasty treat, with your thigh-highs, skirt and jumper. "Over here."

A shiver of pleasure ran through you, you knew that voice and tone he was using meant he was horny and it instantly made you. If you were being honest, you'd been craving him all day long. You turned in your seat and gazed so sweetly at him to see his pupils were blown and the pose he was in was sexy.

You whined as you took in your man in his tight black turtleneck and black trousers. "Yes?"

"I have an idea I want to run by you." He eyed your exposed thighs. "An idea for the bedroom."

You pushed your chest out as you leaned forward. "I'm listening."

He released the doorframe and walked over to you. "You like horror masks, right?"

Your cheeks burned. "Yes."

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the Ghostface mask. "Like this one?"

You mewled. "Ghostface. Y-Yes. I saw online p-people asking their p-partners to wear it."

"Well?"

You stood up and gripped Levi's shirt. "Really?"

"Really."

You hummed. "I'll miss your handsome face."

He leaned closer and kissed your neck. "I'll take it off at the end before I cum inside you."

You felt your legs go weak. "Y-Yes."

Levi held you close. "Well, let's talk this over then."

You gazed up at him. "I want this, I really do. Could we use some ties?"

"Yes. Do you want me to be a bit rough?"

You hummed in thought. "You can manhandle me, you know how I like it."

He nipped your lip. "I do. So, what's the safe word?"

"Tea."

"Tea? Understood. So, you want me to chase you with it for a bit?"

You linked your arms around his neck and kissed him. "Yes." You kissed him over and over. "Just getting a few in before I can't."

Levi slapped you on the ass making you squeal in delight. "Let's play." He yanked the mask on and released a long sigh. "Time to count, little bunny."

You giggled and started backing up. "You look so good."

He walked closer making your heart race as he counted. He came to a stop. "One." He slammed his arm against the wall above your head. "Run."

You slipped away from him and ran out of the office. "Going!"

He released a long sigh as his cock twitched. "Little bunny." He walked out of the office. "I'm gonna rearrange your guts."

You ran from him as he walked fast towards you, just like the bad guys would in your movies. You grabbed a cushion and threw it at him, but he caught it so easily. He tossed it back onto the sofa and released a growl.

You ran around to the other side of the sofa thinking you got some distance, but he jumped clean over it and landed right in front of you. You let out an excited squeal before running away from him. You slowed down a bit because you wanted him to get close. You wanted him to almost get you.

You gasped when Levi grabbed you. Your body was yanked against him, your back connecting with his chest. His wonderful hand wrapped around your neck as he panted. You shivered and knew you had to escape so you could play a bit longer. So, you reached down and massaged his erection straining against his trousers.

Levi shivered and moaned at your touch. "Bunny."

As soon as he loosened his grip you slipped from his hold and ran from him. Levi pulled on his trousers and adjusted his cock. He purred at how dirty you played, he loved it. He turned and sprinted after you. He had a bigger fire in him now.

You led Levi towards the bedroom as your body tingled with need. You turned in the hall and stared to see nothing. You frowned as you felt confused. You moved a bit closer down the hall where you'd left Levi, but nothing. Your heart raced in your chest as you felt nervous and excited.

Levi slammed you against the wall with his hand over your mouth. "Got you, bunny."

You shivered under his touch. "Mm."

He lifted you up and threw you over his shoulder. "Punishment."

You screamed as he threw you onto the bed. "Levi."

He yanked the fun drawer open and retrieved the red rope you both loved. He pulled your arms behind your back, tied them up and threaded the rope up your arms. He tugged on it and made you kneel up. "Good girl."

You shivered against him. "Mm."

He pressed you against the bed and yanked your hips up. "Kneel. Face against the bed."

You shifted on your knees. "Please, Mr Ghostman, don't spank me." You turned your head and smirked as you wiggled your bum.

Levi pushed your skirt up to show your laced-covered bottom. He pressed his erection against your clothed head. He placed a firm hand on your back as he began grinding. He ran his other hand up and down your plump behind as you moaned at his rough grinding.

You cried out in pleasure as soon as his hand collided with your plump bum. You panted as you felt your arousal increase. You felt an emptiness in your pussy, it needed Levi's perfect thick cock deep inside it. You needed him like you needed air. You were desperate.

Levi played with your underwear. Lace underwear was the best because all he needed to do was rip them open and that's just what he did. Levi tore your underwear open so he could see your glistening pussy lips. His hunger consumed him.

He unbuckled, pulled his zip down and sighed a moan when he pulled out his thick throbbing erection. He pumped his hand on himself as he heavily panted. He needed to feel you from the inside. He ran his red pulsing tip up and down your lips slowly. He marvelled at how wet you were from a bit of playful chasing and spanking.

He pressed his tip into you slowly at first. He needed to ease himself in to test if you could take it, which you could by what he could feel. He smiled behind his mask when you moaned in delight and wiggled to get more of him inside you.

He knocked your legs close together, held the back of your neck and rammed inside in deep making your eyes roll back in your head and a choked scream of pleasure escape your lips. He spanked you hard before pounding himself in and out of your tight wet hole at and unrelenting and dominating pace.

You drool against the bed as Levi ravaged you from behind. You closed your eyes as you tuned into your body. You delighted in the feeling of Levi's thick cock dragging in and out of your pussy. Your tight walls flutter around him and drag him back inside you. You needed him close, to always be inside you.

Levi panted above you. "Ha, ha, ha, ngh, fuck. Your pussy is so good."

You whimpered under Levi. "Mm."

He reached around to your clit. "Cum."

You wiggled and bucked against Levi when his fingers played with you. You clenched your toes and cried in pleasure. "A-Ah!"

"Come on." He shifted his legs and pounded into you as hard and as fast as you could take. His hips slapped against your thighs and bum. He called your name as he fucked you hard. "Give."

You tugged on the ropes on your wrists as your drool soaked the covers. You could feel your arousal pouring down your legs and covering Levi's trousers. You barely had time to consider the embarrassing lewd noises coming from Levi's cock plunging out of your wet pussy, your moans and the slapping of his body against yours.

You cried out as your orgasm ripped through your body. You panted and shook under Levi. "Oh fuck!"

Levi dragged his cock out of you and shoved you onto your back. He panted as he looked down at you shivering and mewling at the intense orgasm that was consuming your body. He shoved your jumper up so he could look at your breasts bounce as he fucked you hard.

He raised your hips up before slamming his cock back into you. He stared at your pussy lips wrapping around him so perfectly. He looked down at you through the black netting in the mask. His chest heaved as he admired you. He fixed your legs around him and had an idea he knew you'd like.

Levi moaned. "Close your eyes." As soon as you did he took his mask off allowing him to yank his turtleneck off. He tossed it away before returning the mask. "Open."

You moaned as you took in your lover with his muscles and tattoos. "Fuck." You watched the sweat roll down his body. "Mm."

He gripped your hips tightly and started bucking into you roughly. His eyes locked onto your bouncing breasts and then your pleasure-filled face. He smirked behind the mask, he had missed your beautiful face, it was always pure perfection and incredibly arousing to him.

You pushed on your arms a little and looked down at your body. You flushed when you saw Levi's cock moving in and out of you. Your body burned with blissful pleasure as Levi pushed all your buttons. You looked at the alluring beast that was your lover. His muscles moved and flexed as he pounded into you. His chest heaved with each pant.

You looked up at the mask and wondered what faces Levi was pulling, you could just imagine how it was covered in pure euphoria. You leaned your head back and moaned as the rope on your arms and wrists moved against your sensitive skin. Your senses were heightened as your very soul was on fire with pleasure.

You thrust your hips up as you felt a sudden pop of pleasure. You cried out as your surprise orgasm rushed through you. "A-Ah!"

Levi dropped your hips and slammed his hands against the bed on either side of your head. He bucked hard and fast into you as he looked down at you. He chuckled when you moved your head and bit his wrist. He lifted his arm and grabbed your neck lightly. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip before pushing it into your mouth.

You moaned as you sucked his thumb. You moved your tongue over his thumb in a teasing manner. You looked up at Levi as you moaned against his skin. Your man was perfect. The way he moved inside you and played with your body like it was an instrument and he was the master. He was divine.

Levi chuckled when you playfully bit his thumb. He knew he was going to cum soon and you were sending him faster to that end by playing with him. He pressed himself in deep and started grinding and rolling his hips. He tilted his head a little as he watched you moan and wiggle below him.

Levi reached up and yanked the mask off as he panted and purred at you. "I want to see you."

You mewled. "Levi."

He leaned on his forearm as he smirked at you. "So pretty."

"Kiss."

He moaned as he used his thumb to pull your mouth open. He moved his hand and crashed his lips against yours. He bit your lip and tugged on it. "Perfection."

You whimpered. "I love you."

"I love you too." He grabbed your neck when you tried to turn your head. "No turning your head." He turned your head back so you looked at him. "Look at me when I cum inside you."

You shivered in pleasure. "F-Fuck."

He growled when you clenched him. "Oh, you liked that, huh?" He moved against you, his pelvis rubbing your clit. "You like me cumming inside your pussy? You like it when I fill you with all my cum?"

You moaned his name. "Yes!"

"Cum for me and I'll fill your pretty pussy."

You clenched your toes tightly and gazed deep into Levi's blue eyes as your orgasm rushed through every inch of you. You purred and whimpered as your body burned and tingled in delight. Your legs shook as a warmth burned through your body.

Levi rolled his hips against you as your pussy walls massaged his cock. He pressed deep into you as his cock twitched. Cum shot out of him and deep into you. He locked eyes with you as he moaned your name as he filled you.

He kissed you and sighed. "I love you."

"I love you."

He pulled out of you, tucked himself away and shifted on the bed. "Let me free you, okay?"

You giggled as he rolled you onto your back. "Freedom!"

He hummed a laugh as he slowly untied you. "Yes, you get your freedom."

You sat up once you were free and inspected your wrists. "Little marks, but okay."

He took your hands and showered your wrists in kisses. "I'll put the special cream on them."

"Thank you."

He jumped off the bed and ran out. "I'll be back!"

You giggled as you pulled your underwear off. You stared at the damage and huffed. "You destroyed them. I liked these ones."

Levi ran back with a basket full of goodies. "I'll buy you more, bunny." He jumped onto the bed with a sparkle in his eyes. "I brought snacks, drinks, cream and umm me."

You hummed a laugh. "So cute."

He placed the basket down and helped you change into your PJs. "Food, movie and cuddles."

"Perfect."

Levi changed as well before sitting behind you and holding you tightly. "Pick whatever you like, my love."

You chose a movie and relaxed in Levi's arms as he massaged the cream into your arms and wrists. "Thank you."

"Are your legs okay? Do you need them massaging?"

"They're fine."

He whined and started massaging them anyway. "Gotta make sure."

You laughed. "You're so cute."

He opened up a bag of snacks and started feeding you. "Eat up, my love." He opened a bottle of pop and helped you drink. "Better?"

You nodded. "Yes. Thank you."

He hugged you and began kissing your neck. "Love you so much."

You turned your head and kissed him. "I love you too. Thank you for that amazing session. You blew my mind. It was so good."

He smiled sweetly. "I'm glad something I overheard at work turned into something fun for both of us."

"Did you like it?"

"I loved it, but I did miss kissing you."

You giggled. "Me too."

He kissed you over and over. "I love kissing you."

"I love it too."

Levi squeezed you. "I love you." He nipped your shoulder. "Mine."

[fictionfordays]

Just One More

(21+) Sanzu Haruchiyo x GN!Reader

CW: kissing, lil bit of banter/playfulness, reader is called "darling" and "cute" but no descriptive words are used, heavy kissing at the end yk bc Sanzu blah, VERY brief mention of cigs at the end but no smoking

WC: ~500

A/N: Pinkie has taken over my life and I... this is so playful and self-indulgent... 'M not even sorry, d00d bros - (Also, I reblogged the post I found this gif, and I'll also link it here :D )

Back to Main Masterlist | Tokyo Revengers Masterlist

"Another? You're such a greedy little thing, aren't ya?"

His fingers linger on your waist as he dips his head to place a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Feel loved yet, darlin'?"

You smirk at him playfully, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. Your hands slide up his arms to rest on his shoulders.

"Hm... not yet, baby~ maybe one more will do the trick?" Your smile grows wider as he feigns shock at your response, your soft giggles resonating in the room.

“You’re so lucky you’re cute…” He leans down to softly press his lips to yours again for a fleeting moment. “There…” his voice is quiet, warm breath fanning over your face, “how ‘bout that?” His lips turn up in a gentle smile, the diamond scars flexing with the movement. His aquamarine eyes tracing your facial features, committing them to memory as his nose softly brushes against yours. His fingers caress the sides of your waist gingerly.

Your smile brightens, that mischievous twinkle in your eyes. You hum quietly in response, eyes tracking his every movement. “Maybe… one more?”

He chuckles quietly, “you really are greedy,  ya know?” He leans down again, warm lips pressing against yours in a feather-light touch. You react quickly this time, your hands playfully squishing his cheeks together as you melt into his embrace. He sighs against your lips, cheeks growing hot from the bright blush dusting his pale skin. A grin breaks across your face when you finally pull away, admiring the rarity of his flustered expression.

“Y-you really know what you want, huh?” He teases affectionately, but you can hear the slight tremble in his voice.

“Mm~ I just wanted a longer kiss, is all…” you look away shyly, your own sheepish expression spreading across your face.

“Coulda just said so, darlin’~” he leans down again, this time kissing you more passionately. He breathes in your scent deeply, fingers twitching as he grips the fabric of your shirt firmly. Your fingers make their way to his silky pink hair, combing through the strands tenderly. The tip of his tongue flicks your upper lip teasingly before he nibbles on your bottom lip. One of his hands slowly comes up to rest on the side of your neck and jaw, thumb caressing the gentle slope of your cheek as he deepens the kiss.

He pulls away slowly, planting one or two more lingering kisses against your plush lips. His aquamarine hues search yours affectionately before he kisses your forehead.

“I-I’ll… expect more when you get back later, ok?” you press a quick kiss to his chin with a small grin.

“Think I won’t be kissin’ my darlin’ again later, huh?” he winks playfully, ruffling the top of your hair. He turns to leave, grabbing his suit jacket and pack of cigarettes. He continues mumbling to himself, “of course, ‘m gonna kiss you later… who do you think I am?” He rolls his eyes, turning to leave one last lingering kiss on your lips before walking out of the front door to your shared apartment.

Tags: @enchantedforest-network @fuyuswifey @nanamis-wifey-reye @sin-and-punishment @h8ani @goddessofwaifus @tokyorevengersrin

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I do not own these characters. All rights to the original creators. All content—created rights are reserved to Wallabypirate©2023.

[brynnterpretations]

LOVED the the boys ship you wrote me (went anon at first bc i'm shy and new to tumblr lmao) so wanted to ask one for my the boys oc since i saw you do ocs too!!

her name is veronica daumas, she's in her late 30s, brazilian (speaks portuguese and english) and has been living in the us for 10-ish years (faceclaim is taina muller). she was a private eye in brazil before messing with some big corporations (aka vought), giving herself a lot of trouble, and having to fake some documents and burn some bridges to move to the us. she was recruited for the first mallory team due to her investigative abilities and, of course, is brought back to the team for the s1 shenanigans. during the years between the first mission and the start of s1, she was working as a sort of particular investigator for a brazilian-american crime boss in nyc.

personality-wise, veronica is a nosy bitch. she loves fucking around and finding out, prying for information, discovering things about people. a bit grumpy and snappy, but who in that team isn't? brutally honest too, not in an edgy, wanting to be a bitch way, but in a comically careless disregard for if something would be rude. her own crazy drive to pursue the truth makes her not realize some people might not want the whole truth at all times. it's not like she doesn't lie ever, she actually controls information very well when she wants/needs to; she really wants to be the one who knows things more than other people do. she's in a weird middle ground in the insane-to-normal spectrum: if butcher is one side and mm's the other, she stands aside with a cigarette to film whatever will go down between them. she's not one to stop anyone though — your problem! chronic bailer: if it's gonna go down, she'll leave. addicted to getting away with things. will absolutely back off and save her own skin, which is a conflict she has to grapple with when she inevitably comes back in contact with the boys, and starts getting attached to them as they slowly realize they actually are a team. she has left a lot of people behind in her life and it's something that's slowly coming back to haunt her — oh shit, she cares about the people she loves. and bailing won't solve her problems if she still feels for the things left behind.

i originally ship her with frenchie but wanted to see your input, hcs, and any other opinions since i absolutely loved your writing!! thanks in advance <3

I am so glad you liked your ship, and thank you so much for sending in another! I love Veronica so much and if you ever post a fic of her I'd love to be tagged in it. I hope you're well and again, I'm so glad you enjoyed! This brought a smile to my face. ♡

I ship Veronica with...

Frenchie ♡

Boyfriend

GIF Source: @yocalio ★ (link)

I agree with your pairing — Veronica definitely seems like Frenchie's type of partner, and vice versa. Dark and varied past? Check. A love for drama? Check. Wanting to be independent, but becoming attached to a group of fucked up people just trying to do the right thing day-by-day? Check.

I've mentioned this in a few other HCs, but I don't see Frenchie as a person to move fast romantically at all, so it would definitely start with a lot of interesting conversations and a healthy dose of playful flirtation. If Veronica is someone who's comfortable with hookups, I feel like it would be likely for she and Frenchie to be sexually intimate with each other before catching romantic feelings.

Once in a relationship, the two of them would be quite the chaotic duo, and would always back each other up. Sometimes, Frenchie will not know what she's talking about, but if anyone (*cough* Annie *cough*) tries to push back on any of Veronica's ideas or input, he will fight for her like a guard dog.

Generally, Frenchie really trusts Veronica's decision-making skills and intuition — he's always been more of a tactile person when it comes to work in the coup, so her investigative abilities are incredible to him — and always makes sure she's properly heard by the group, even when they're all yelling over each other, which is... a lot.

Frenchie is very fascinated by Veronica as a person, and would always make time to talk to her in-between missions. It would start as very run-of-the-mill questions, at least by Frenchie standards (her work in Brazil, how it was transitioning to life in America) before slowly becoming more personal. However interested, though Frenchie will always be patient — he knows how personal people's pasts are, and always respects her if she doesn't want to divulge information.

The two of them would definitely balance each other out. Frenchie is endlessly loyal, to his own detriment — Little Nina called him little doggy for a reason — and Veronica's ability to know when's the right time to bail would help him gain a lot more self-awareness and respect, while Frenchie would be able to show her that sometimes, not every time is the right time to bail.

During missions, he would always make sure he has a line of contact with Veronica, even if they weren't directly working together, just to give her words of encouragement and check in on how she's doing. He knows she's capable, yeah, but he just wants to hear her voice (and know what's going on, because he, too, is a nosy bitch). Sue him.

Frenchie is not shy at all with PDA, and would always be very physically close to Veronica, whether it's a hand holding hers, an arm wrapped around her shoulder, or just standing by her side. He also lives for sleeping with her, no matter who's the big spoon.

Frenchie loves hearing her speak Portuguese, and will often ask her to read to him.

Tons of cute, silly nicknames for her, such as mon bijou, mon trésor, and ma chouchoute.

As for the rest of the coup...

The Boys ☻

Teammates

GIF Source: @yocalio ★ (link)

Butcher really likes Veronica, finding her to be funny, competent, and very, very funny; the man could not deal with another moral compass on the team. Even when he's not a hundred percent down with an idea of hers, he'll back it up just to start shit with Annie and M.M. The guy's gotta get his fun in somehow.

He also definitely would invite her out to drink a lot (strictly platonically, though, because our boy is not a homewrecker).

However, it wouldn't be without its stressors. Considering Veronica's bluntness and lack of hesitation with calling out bullshit, I could see some pretty gnarly arguments happening between them, especially if it concerns Frenchie

On the topic of M.M. and Annie: M.M. does quite like Veronica and doesn't snap at her, but can get annoyed with her pretty quickly, especially when he senses that she's about to bail. Still, though, he finds her extremely intelligent and invaluable to the team, and believes her to be a very good person, even with her guarded exterior.

And, for Annie — I hate to say it, but Veronica and Annie would not get along at the start. Annie is very much an endlessly hopeful and loyal person, to a rather damagingly "go down with the ship" mindset, and would find Veronica to be flaky, selfish, and a hazard, likely having a relationship with Veronica similar to her relationship with Butcher.

That doesn't mean there wouldn't be room for improvement, though. Annie's decently intuitive, and as she senses Veronica becoming more and more attached to the team, would begin warming up to her and holding far more respect for her as a person.

Hughie would be quite wary of Veronica and probably wouldn't interact with her too much — sorry, he's a nervous little fella — but, like M.M., would also hold a lot of respect for her.

Kimiko would love her, finding her to be an extremely funny, interesting person. Like Frenchie, Kimiko is someone who highly values honesty, and would find her to be a refreshing person to be around, especially since Veronica isn't afraid of standing her own.

Additionally, Kimiko is admittedly pretty drawn to gossip and other "nosy" things that she wasn't able to pick up on or enjoy during her time in the Shining Light Liberation Army, so if Veronica dispels any information she's picked up on to Kimiko? The woman will be sold.

So... welcome to the team. She's one of the boys, for sure.

[waywardsalt]

for the zelda ask game: 🎭😔👊⛩️

🎭 When you play Zelda games, do you imagine being Link yourself, or is Link a separate character to you? Basically, are you Link, or is Link a separate character?

I always consider Link to be his own separate character. There's juuust enough to him most games that he has his own character, and I'm not usually one to go full self-insert with video game characters unless that's what the game is really going for. So I generally consider him to be his own separate character.

😔 Least Favorite Zelda character?

Hhhmmmmmmm normally I would say Jolene (and i think she was my answer for a similar ask game a few years ago) but I'm trying to get myself to at least somewhat appreciate her so it would be kind of counterproductive to say it's her. But it's Jolene.

👊 Favorite Zelda Villain/Boss?

Yeah no Bellum is my favorite Zelda villain... also my favorite boss! I think he's a silly little thing and a lot of fun to think wayyyy to hard about and I really like the variety between the three segments of his extended fight, plus just on a story level his whole fight is really cool. I would normally say I wish more was done with him but I can make do with crumbs so it's fine actually. I kind of want a little plushie of him.

⛩️ Favorite Zelda Dungeon/Location?

Hm... it's hard to decide on just one favorite dungeon, I've always been fond of albw's dungeons and both oot and mm have really good dungeons, but I think I'd have to pick the fire sanctuary from Skyward Sword. I really like sksw's dungeons a lot, and the fire sanctuary especially just... looks really nice and is fun to spend time figuring out. I think it's the one I enjoy the most, while the others are just fine or have some snag to them. With locations, I’m a fan of albw’s Hyrule and Lorule, and Clock Town is probably my favorite town in the entire series.

[winphoria]

the moonlight & other natural phenomena (tsukkiyama)

the blossom of the spring sakura, the summer gust of evening wind, the stars of the midnight constellations, and the orbit of the moon — ever-constants in a fleeting world. as two boys follow the next chapter of their lives together, they find that they too, are one of few constants in each others' fleeting lives.

tsukishima kei x tadashi yamaguchi (haikyuu)

tags: fluff, childhood friends, friends to lovers, love confession, mutual pining, sleepovers, one-shot

now playing: ordinary things by ariana grande, nonna

1.3k words; ao3 link

Friday evening, 7:54 pm.

After what felt like forever, Karasuno High School’s volleyball team finally finished a day full of practices and drills, preparing for the next few big matches. First-year Tadashi Yamaguchi, already feeling the physical drain, stares at himself in the changing room through his locker’s tiny mirror with heavy eyes.

“Plans tonight, Yamaguchi?” A voice asks from Yamaguchi’s right, taking him out of his short daze. He recognizes the familiar voice as Koushi Sugawara, his teammate two lockers down. He also looks ready to get out of here but still manages to spark conversation as he quickly dresses.

“I’m heading over to Tsukishima’s tonight. Probably gonna do some studying for our English quiz next week.”

“Oh, that’s nice!” Sugawara shoots Yamaguchi a smile. “Hopefully it’s not all just work. Both of you deserve a break after this week.”

“Usually we end up watching a random movie or falling asleep too quickly to do anything else, honestly.” Yamaguchi laughs.

“I see…” Sugawara says, trying not to read into it. “Well, don’t work too hard, you two.” He locks up his locker and heads out to catch up with Daichi. “See you both next week!”

Back on the court, Kei Tsukishima gathers his things before heading to the club room.

“Hey, Tsukishima!” Hinata calls over from the net. It’s clear he and Kageyama have no speck of intent to leave anytime soon.

“Mm.”

“Where you going? Don’t you wanna practice a bit more with us?” Hinata asks, even though everyone knows the answer to that question already. As persistent as he is, Shoyo doesn’t see the harm in asking every time.

Tsukishima breathes out a sigh. “I’m done for today. Knock yourselves out,” he says before meeting with Yamaguchi at the door.

“See you, Kageyama, Hinata.” Yamaguchi waves before the two head out of the gym.

“Wait, are you guys gonna practice at Tsukishima’s?! Fun!!! We should totally go along with them sometime, Kageyama!” Hinata is so busy grinning at the idea of even more volleyball practice outside the gym that he doesn't notice Tsukishima and Kageyama flinch at his absurd suggestion. “See ya!”

It wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence for the pair to head home together, especially during peak volleyball season. In truth, Tsukishima appreciated the company.

Well, Tadashi’s company, specifically.

“I wonder what’s that about.” The team’s captain Daichi points down to the pair walking as he locks up the club room. Asahi, Sugawara, and Kiyoko look down to where he gestures.

“You noticed, too?” Sugawara replies.

“Well yeah, almost everyone has. They’ve been going home together more than usual, hanging out on weekends, coming to practice together.

“Really? I didn’t catch anything. I thought they were just really close childhood friends,” Asahi says, prompting a chuckle from Daichi and Sugawara for his cluelessness.

Sugawara takes a final look at the pair before they turn a corner. Yamaguchi is visibly giggling about something while Tsukishima looks down at him. “Their friendship… it’s sweet. I’m glad they have each other on the team.”

Saturday morning, 1:32 am.

After dinner and some time studying, the Tsukishima residence is quiet. The two boys are the only ones awake, sitting in the dark of Kei’s room watching a space documentary — the only remotely interesting thing on TV at this hour. Their respective right and left ears each hold half of some tangled wired earphones.

“God, this documentary is so dated. Pluto isn’t even a planet anymore,” Tsukishima says with a slight eyebrow raised at the film’s credibility (or lack thereof).

Unsurprisingly, Tsukishima is tuned in while Yamaguchi’s attempts to stay awake are in vain. When he does fall in and out of consciousness, he finds himself looking at Tsukishima.

By the time the documentary’s credits roll across the TV screen, Tsukishima finally notices his friend next to him — head buried in his knees, out cold.

“Hey. Movie’s over, sleepy. Time for bed,” he says to Yamaguchi as he gives him a shove. It’s a bit stronger than he intends.

“Huh?” Yamaguchi whips his head up, “Oh, yeah, that was a really good movie.”

Normally Tsukki would give a slight scoff at anyone’s attempt to save face, but with Tadashi, it just comes off as endearing.

“Come on, I’ll help you make your bed.”

Soon enough, the pair find themselves in their respective sleeping spots. Yamaguchi on the floor mattress and Tsukishima on the bed, his back to his friend and the rest of the room.

With the television off, nothing but a sliver of moonlight illuminates the room, specifically on to the back of Tsukishima’s head. Despite being knocked out 15 minutes ago, something stirred within Tadashi. He couldn’t get himself to fall back to sleep.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi whispers, unsure if his friend is still awake.

“Mm,” Tsukishima responds to signal some form of listening.

“Do you ever feel like the world stops sometimes?” Yamaguchi blurts out, wanting to keep Tsukishima awake for just a bit longer but unsure how.

A small pause. Tsukishima isn’t sure how to respond.

“No, not really.”

“Oh.”

A few seconds go by.

“Sometimes, in the spring, I watch the blossoms fall from the trees outside of our classroom, floating, one by one gracefully to the ground.”

“Tadashi. You don’t even have the window seat… no wonder you’ve been getting distracted in class lately.” Tsukishima manages to reply. It comes out less sarcastic than expected with his half-conscious voice.

“Right, that’s my bad.” Yamaguchi chuckles awkwardly.

A few more seconds pass. Tadashi can’t tell if he’s overthinking things.

“Other times,” he continues, “when we walk from practice, I can feel the familiar gust of the evening winds blowing through my hair strands.”

Tadashi’s restless pupils scan around the room, searching for something mundane to focus on and calm his thoughts. It’s useless, he thought, not noticing his heart beating a little faster as he hugged his pillow a bit tighter.

“Even today, coming home with you I noticed way more stars. It’s like… the sky was a painting.”

“Hm,” Tsukki mumbles. It’s unclear to Yamaguchi if he’s actually retaining any of this.

“I ask because I, um…” Tadashi starts. His eyes rest to focus on his friend’s blonde hair. His mind draws a blank. “Well, I’m not sure why I ask.”

Silence from Tsukishima. His breathing is steady, his body still. He ruminates on his childhood friend’s words.

2 am crickets begin to fill further silence through the cracked window.

I’m just rambling now, Tadashi thought, but his mind continues anyway.

“You know, it’s funny because…” He breaks the short silence again. “I notice every time I feel like the world stops… it seems that you're there, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says, the last part much softer, almost inaudible.

But Tsukishima hears every word.

Yamaguchi isn't sensing any more half-asleep responses from Tsukishima anymore. With the words slipping out of his mouth, for some reason, he feels a little less restless. A little… lighter.

Turning to his other side, his back to Tsukki, Tadashi closes his eyes and whispers one last thought to the moon before succumbing to exhaustion.

“In those moments when it feels like the world has stopped…

I will always be thinking of you.”

[mapplestrudel]

Dush nuhoy'sure - Bad Dreams

Pairing: Paz Viszla x You, Paz Vizsla x Reader

Wordcount: ~1100

Tags: Light Angst, Fluff, Sorta Fix-It? (my little fic world is not canon-compliant anyway), "Mando'a for Beginners" 'verse,

A/N: A while ago I wrote a little thing where Paz needed some comfort after a bad dream, and then S3E7 happened, and Reader from my little Mando'a for Beginners fic suddenly had the worst dream of her life and Paz had to run and comfort her.

You're gonna have to rip Paz from my cold dead hands before I let this di'kut (affectionate) go.

Translations at the end. Also available on AO3 (link in the replies).

---

Ch. 1: Paz

"Can I hold you?"

The familiar deep voice sounds sleepy and choked up. Sitting in the space ship's small common room, you look up from the square you're crocheting and see Paz standing in the corridor. He just woke up, it seems, wearing only his PJs and his helmet. His shoulders are slumped, arms hanging on his sides, but his hands are opening and closing nervously.

"Always." You nod and put your yarny project on the table. A few strides take you over to him. He seems glued to his place but his hands reach out and pull you close as soon as you're within his reach.

You wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing lightly. He sighs and holds you tight, fingers digging into your shirt, bunching the fabric.

You start running slow, calming circles on his back with your hands, and after a while he starts to relax a bit.

Minutes pass.

Eventually you retreat just enough to look up to him. The visor is dark, but you can make out a hint of visor-tinted eyes. You always find them.

"What's up?" you whisper.

He sighs, then grumbles "Bad dream."

You hum acknowledgingly. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Later?"

"... Mm-hm."

"'Kay."

You stay put where you are, wrapped up in his arms, worried, but also basking in his warmth and closeness.

The helmet hisses and you feel a kiss pressed on to the top of your head.

"Thank you." It's short, quick and unmodulated, and if it weren't for the helmet-closing hiss you would have thought you dreamt it.

You look up again, once you're sure the helmet is in its proper place again, and with tippy-toes reach to the front of his helmet with your own forehead. He returns the keldabe, lowering his head so you're more comfortable.

"Always," you whisper and he groans and holds you tighter, wishing the pictures from the dream to disappear, but they keep playing again and again in his head:

You, falling into endless blackness and he, skydiving behind you, never reaching you, jetpack fuel running out....

---

Ch. 2: You

"Paz!"

The thick door closes shut with a loud clang and then there is silence. No sound, even as you desparately bang your fists at the ungiving metal. No sound, even as you scream, and claw at it, willing it open.

Willing Paz to get out of there. Willing the assaillants to just fall dead and leave him be. 

But the door is unyielding and you watch in horror as Paz is slowly overwhelmed and you can't do anything and you scream and scream and scream.

And then he falls. Hits the ground. You can feel the thud. It ripples through the door like an earthquake from its epicenter right through to you and your heart stops.

Shatters into a thousand pieces sifting through your bruised bloodied hands.

---

You jerk awake with a gasp, cold sweat clinging to you like the nightmare's claws.

"Laarika!"

The door of the sleeping compartment that you and Paz share, whirrs open and Paz all but falls in, highly alarmed, blaster drawn.

Your throat is dry and sore, you're desoriented, the light from the corridor burning in your tear-filled eyes. You can't even sit up and so you just lie there, breathing heavily, heart racing.

"What's wrong?" Paz looks around with practiced but somewhat frantic precision for whoever hurt you, knowing all well that there should be only you and him on this ship.

"Paz...", you choke and he sits down and pulls you gently to his chest. You wrap all fours around him and cling to him, digging into his flightsuit, and he holds you, holds you, holds you tight, as you bury your face into his flak vest and cry.

You cry out the feeling of utter helplessness, of loss and anger, and he sits there solid like a rock amidst the waves of your tears, worried about you and whatever may have caused this sudden onslaught.

It's the last moment of the dream you can't shake off, when he just clonks to the ground like a ragdoll and doesn't move anymore - it plays in your head again and again and again and again.

"But he's here!" you scream at yourself inside through the brainfog, "he's here he's here he's here", and you cling even more and your muscles start to hurt and twitch but he's here, and he's warm and alive and he rubs gentle circles on your back and..

"Laarika. Breathe."

You try to breathe in - and eventually fresh air does reach your lungs, even tough it's through hitched sobs.

He's here, and you can feel him, and smell him and hear him and..

You look up, find his eyes in the visor, locked on to you and worried. He cups your cheeks and gently wipes away some tears with his thumbs.

"I've never heard you scream like this. It rang through all the way to the cockpit!"

"I saw you die," tears refill your eyes as your lips start to tremble again. "I saw you die, and i couldn't get through to you. Through the thick door. I couldn't get through, I couldn't .. there was just this thick door and silence and shadows coming for you from everywhere and I couldn't do anything... "

He remembers his own bad dream he had a while ago.

"That's the worst thing about nightmares," he mumbles quietly. "Being helpless. Not able to do anything..."

You nod weakly.

Silence falls around you, as you both hang in your own thoughts, the background hum and beeping of the ship wrapping around you like a safe blanket.

Then Paz's arms tighten around you.

"Couldn't reach you, too," he grumbles. You look up and see his eyebrows knitted together through the tinted visor. "The other night, I mean. You plunged and plunged, always out of reach. And I was too slow. Just.. too slow... " You can hear his grinding teeth even through the helmet.

You sneak a hand under his buy'ce and cup his scruffy cheek. "You got to me now..."

He nods and leans into your hand, calming down himself now.

"Thank the stars this door opened voluntarily." He chuckles and you can only imagine what he'd have done to the door had it been less willing to open.

He bows his head and connects his forehead to yours, and, breathing in, you find that you've calmed down, too.

"You okay now?"

"Yeah," you whisper. "You?"

"Hm," he confirms.

"Can we snuggle a bit?"

He doesn't answer, but switches off the light and climbs into the bed, placing the helmet under it.

You curl up, and he curls around you, and soon you fall asleep again, feeling safe and secure between the cool shipwall and the warm wall that is Paz.

---

Translations and pronunciations (if available) from www.mandoa.org, and The Total Guide to Mandalorian Language by Tal'jair Rusk:

dush --- [doosh] --- bad, wrong nuhoy'sure --- dreams (I made this up xD) from: nuhoy -- [noo-HOY] -- sleep (n.) sur -- [soor] -- sight, picture before the eyes, something the eyes see at the given moment -e -- plural suffix after consonants

keldabe -- headbutt (in this case, softly bringing each other's foreheads together xD)

Laar'ika -- Little Song, Paz's nickname for Reader, from: laar -- [lar] -- song and -'ika -- diminutive suffix