#shootings typically spike

[lightseoul]

REVENGE (KEEP US TOGETHER) (1.9k)

a/n. this bkg lives rent-free in my mind. i had scenes and interactions that i wanted to insert in this scenario, but i think i blacked out 300 words in and bakugou and y/n just took the reins from there. anyway, i hope y'all enjoy this one!

c.w. pro-hero!katsuki, aged up (~26), mentions of injuries, mentions of canon-typical violence

the first thing that registers in your mind the moment your eyes flutter (creak) open is that the ceiling looks unfamiliar.

the second thing is that everything hurts like a motherfucking bitch.

but apparently being in a wholly foreign place is enough to trigger the metaphorical alarms in your head, at least enough for you to still muster the strength and presence of mind to scan the area—first, the space on your right—despite the way your body’s practically screaming at you.

what immediately catches your attention is your right arm. it’s nowhere in sight, but you can still vaguely recognize it being attached to the rest of your torso. it takes you a second to realize it’s elevated and wrapped in a thick, white cast, and the moment you do, another wave of pain courses through you, and you find yourself gritting your teeth in its wake.

a few feet behind your heavily bandaged arm seem to be two doors, one of which you think is the entrance to this dimly lit room, the other probably leading to a comfort room.

and, if all of these aren’t indicators enough, the faint beeping sound echoing across the small area gives you the definitive answer that yes, this is a hospital and yes, you are on a fucking hospital bed.

how the fuck did you end up here?

stifling a groan, you attempt to turn your head to the left to examine the other half of the room.

and that’s when you see it.

you freeze—not because the minuscule movement is causing a nauseating throbbing in your frontal lobe—but because you see it.

the all-too-familiar, unruly ash-blonde spikes that can belong to only one person.

from where you lay flat on top of the increasingly uncomfortable bed, you can barely see his forehead, but there’s no denying it.

even more so when the person speaks up.

“you’re awake.”

upon hearing his gruff voice, your stomach instantly drops in dread, so much so that it physically hurts, and you’re starting to think that maybe you’re bleeding internally, too, and that in the midst of whatever happened to you, you hurt your organs as well.

when he says your name in question a few beats later, you make no move to respond, but deep down you know you can’t just close your eyes and pretend you’re asleep again to avoid regarding him entirely.

he literally saw you moving just now.

and so you try to sit up, at least for a whole millisecond, because a pulse of pain shoots through the entirety of your body, and you can’t help the wrangled moan that tumbles out of your lips at the scalding sensation. you barely see him through your half-lidded eyes, but the man jumps up on his feet, finally coming into full view.

bakugou, who’s decked out in full hero gear is looking uncharacteristically worried when he asks: “are you okay?”

you clench your eyes closed, fighting the urge to squirm in discomfort. you merely shake your head, as subtly as you can lest you bust a fucking nerve on your neck, before: “elevate my backrest. i can’t sit up.”

“shit, right.”

it takes him a beat to figure out the controls at the side of your bunk, but when he finally does, you find yourself slowly inclining up until to about 45 degrees.

up 45 degrees and now face-to-face with him.

once the contraption clicks into place, bakugou sits back down on what looks like a stool beside you, an inexplicable expression etched on his features.

and before you can even think better against them, the words are already out of your mouth.

“what are you doing here?”

that must not have been what he was expecting or wanting to hear, because his face immediately contorts into a look of borderline offense.

“the fuck do you mean ‘what am i doing here’?” he scoffs, folding his muscled arms across his expansive chest. “you almost got abducted, dumbass. you’re lucky you made it out alive.”

abducted?

the last thing you remember before you most likely blacked out and were sent to the hospital was that you were just exiting the grocery store that you frequent on Fridays after work when an oddly familiar-looking man appeared before you. he didn’t seem too harmless right up until he emitted his quirk that sent you tumbling across the asphalt and…

that’s just about where your memory cuts off.

“what happened?” you manage to choke out, suddenly feeling scared.

“as i said,” he starts, voice low and strangely hesitant, “you almost got abducted. you passed out after you hit the neighboring building arm first, but a pro-hero patrolling the area managed to get you before the villain could take you with him.”

you gawk at the man. “what the hell would a villain want to do with me?”

at that, bakugou’s face hardens.

“…’s because they want to get back at me.”

a million things beg to be spoken out of your mouth in an instant, but what you end up saying is: “why are you here, then? shouldn’t you be with the police or in the agency if this guy’s got a vendetta against you?”

“seriously?” he retorts, incredulous, before shaking his head in what you think is frustration. his eyes shift to the rest of your body, “you’re fucking injured and yet you’re asking all these stupid questions.”

you feel yourself flame in indignation, but you bite your tongue. if you allow yourself to speak, you may end up saying something you’ll regret later.

“…but if you must know,” he pipes up all of a sudden, catching you off guard, “they said i was your emergency contact.”

his voice is quiet when he asks: “you didn’t change it?”

you gulp despite yourself. thankfully, his eyes remain trained on yours and do not drift down to your throat.

“i forgot to,” you lie out of your ass.

you are not about to tell him it’s because you haven’t had the heart to remove him as your favorite contact, let alone delete his number.

“well…” he starts, diverting his gaze onto the pillow beside you, “…that and the fact that this villain has been after me ever since he got out of prison. fucking bastard can’t accept i apprehended him so fast back then. guess it hurt his fucking ego and wanted revenge.”

you stare at the pro-hero, debating as to whether or not to say the next thing, ultimately deciding for it.

“…and he was planning to do that by hurting me.”

bakugou’s eyes drift towards you again at your statement, a serious glint in them, although he doesn’t say anything in response.

a long pause.

“why didn’t you just tell them we aren’t together anymore?” you finally ask. “you could’ve just referred them to my family or best friends or something.”

“and have them be on my ass about us breaking up?” he quips almost instantaneously. “you were rushed to the er—i didn’t have time for that shit. and in case you’ve forgotten from that time they found out about us—”

“of course i haven’t,” you cut him off, eyes trained downcast on your fiddling fingers. “it wasn’t like i wanted the media to find out we were together in the first place. my point is that it would save you a lot of trouble if we just suck it up and announce it. that way, you won’t have to play pretend and be forced to be my guardian, and i don’t get targeted by vengeful villains anymore.”

when you finally look up at the man, the frown that found its place on bakugou’s mouth at the start of your spiel has apparently now deepened into a scowl.

“what?” you ask before you can rein yourself in.

“i’m sorry you got hurt,” he states sternly. “ i should’ve kept a closer eye on you despite everything, and i’m taking full responsibility for what happened. but—”

“—katsuki,” you try to interject.

“—but don’t think i’m in front of you right now just because i feel guilty or that i just didn’t want to deal with the fucking press,” he huffs. “i—”

you wait for a moment for him to continue, but he doesn’t. his mouth only opens as if he’s going to say something before it closes again, then opens, and closes.

despite yourself, your heart physically aches at the sight of him struggling to verbalize his feelings. you hesitate for a second, before finally deciding to say it.

“…i know what you mean.”

at that, bakugou whips to look at you, an almost imperceptible, stunned expression on his sullen features. “you do?”

you nod. “…i still care for you, too, you know? even if i try to talk myself out of it, i still find myself going through the news all the time to make sure you’re alright.”

and you really, really do.

because, at the end of the day, you didn’t break up because you fell out of love or anything remotely close to that.

it was an amicable agreement to part ways because you had absolutely little to no time for each other—what with bakugou’s demanding schedule as a rising pro-hero—and almost every little time he had free was always in conflict with your own career.

you both tried to make it work, you really did—adjusting and compromising and adapting in every way you could—but when it all boiled down to it you were always left disappointed, frustrated, and frustratingly yearning for each other.

and so before the love you’ve carefully cultivated together could morph into ugly resentment—with you hating each other—you both decided to just call it quits.

you chance a glance at the man, whose gaze has visibly softened at your admission.

and you wish you really couldn’t, or you wish you’d forget how to recognize it, but you can’t deny the look of what you’ve long identified as longing that’s written all over his face.

but before you can say anything about it, a soft array of knocks resonates from the door, catching both of your attention.

not a few seconds after, a nurse squeezes herself through the entrance, holding a clipboard close to her chest.

“sorry to interrupt your conversation,” she starts, painfully timid, “but i just wanted to inform you that the premiere suite is now ready, and we can now move the patient there.”

you whip (as much as you can, at least) to look at bakugou, who only shoots you a look telling you to just roll with it. you purse your lips in a thin line, itching to protest, but manage to not say anything as the nurse continues.

“…i’ll also have to talk to mr. bakugou later on as he is your registered guardian. i’ll just drop by again later in the suite so i can take your vitals as well. that’s basically it for now, thank you!”

and just as fast as she appeared, the nurse was gone.

when you’re sure she’s out of earshot, you turn to the man. “this is too much, katsuki.”

he merely shakes his head but again, doesn’t say anything.

you stare at him for a few more beats before finally sighing in what you feel is resignation.

this is going to be a long night.

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @k0z3me

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 my asks are always open as well. have a lovely day, y'all!

[stunie]

SCARY BOYFRIEND EX PRIVILEGES! ❤︎ — Endo Yamato x f!reader ﾉ Sfw ﾉ Cw harassment (not from Endo) ﾉ My response to:

ANON’S ASK — Random thought but what the wind breaker boys protect you in spite of being your ex. Whether it was a mutual, [etc], uncertain, or bittersweet break up is up to you.

Other warnings: one mention of reader typically wearing makeup

As weird as it sounds, you’re not entirely sure if you and Endo have ever officially broken up. Dating through high school was one thing, but keeping the relationship strong after attending different universities was another.

At the very least, you’re 90% sure the relationship died, although you don’t remember exactly when the two of you stopped talking. After you switched your phone number following your first semester at university, you hadn’t even bothered to tell him. You don’t remember why you didn’t bother to either.

Everything is weird now.

Life has been entirely different without him. There’s one less free pocket in your bag now that you’ve started carrying pepper spray with you. You wear your headphones in one ear at a time, and your volume isn’t on full blast anymore.

You actually look where you’re going, and you pay attention to the time— take a mental note that it starts getting dark earlier at this point in the year.

Even with the precautions you’ve learned during your time at university, this type of thing would always be out of your control. How in the world did you get singled out wearing your pajamas and no makeup?

Life wasn’t being fair to you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?”

“Midterms.” You narrow your eyes to the best of your ability, balling your hands into little fists to mask how they’ve started to tremble. “I’m meeting up with some friends now.”

You used to be able to just say “I have a boyfriend.”

You also used to be walked home, so this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. You’re sure that if Endo saw the way you are now, he’d be making a comment by now. Something along the lines of “gonna hurt your hands if you throw a punch with your fists like that, sweet thing.”

Nothing is fair. Why is it now that you start missing him for the first time in years? The feeling comes a little too easily for a relationship that faded into nothing, but you’re too scared to kick yourself in the shin right now.

“That so?” The man in front of you laughs when your fight or flight finally starts to kick in. You take a couple of steps backward, and your frame is suddenly a lot smaller compared to his. How easy. “Where are these friends of yours? Can’t believe you’re out here all by yourself..”

“T-they have my location, y’know.”

There’s the stutter that always gives you away.

He laughs at this, and you can feel yourself breaking into a cold sweat. Keep your words steady. Ignore the way your heart rate is spiking. Do absolutely anything to avoid letting him know that you’re scared out of your mind.

It doesn’t work at all. “They won’t know if you don’t have your phone on you, will they?”

All the words you know seem to slip out of your brain, and your face feels painfully hot. “U-um…”

“You’re exactly my type. It’s a compliment… I’m being nice, so just come with me. You won’t regret it— I’ll make it worth your time.”

It doesn’t like sound an offer, and it doesn’t sound like a suggestion either. Your body freezes against your will, and he catches onto this pretty fast. The pepper spray in your bag seems too far away for you to even consider, and you’ve never felt so helpless in your life.

“Yeah? That sound good?” He moves to close the distance between the two of you with a grin, reaching out to grab your wrist. Your eyes slam shut, lips trembling even when you try to say something to protest. “Damn… you’re so docile for such a pretty girl. Usually, they’d be a bitch, but you—”

“How mean.” Your eyes shoot open when you’re suddenly tugged backward, gasping when your back roughly collides with someone’s chest. “I was waiting all alone. What’s my girl doing over here with you?”

The tattooed arms that drape themselves over your shoulders don’t look familiar at first glance, but the muscles and his scent are. Painfully familiar, as a matter of fact. They’re the same arms you used to cling onto- and you always used to wrap your fingers around his bicep and rest your head on his shoulder.

He loved that.

It all registers in your head as soon as he puts his weight on you, head right beside yours and you feel his hair tickle your neck. He gives the man in front of you an unamused look before turning to you.

“M-me?” You want to dig a hole and stay there for eternity after hearing just how shaky your voice comes out. Endo’s so close that you could simply turn your head to the side and you’d be kissing him.

He laughs, and you feel your face heat up again. Only this time, there’s a gentle fluttering of your heart that comes with it instead. “Yeah, you. What? Did you think I was talking to the loser? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The way you move to latch onto his arm in an instant is all he needs to confirm that your feelings haven’t changed. The man in front of you doesn’t speak— he can’t seem to move either. Your boyfriend has made quite the name for himself, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?

To you, he’s your bodyguard— and more, of course, but maybe you’d be honest and tell him about that another time. But to that guy, he’s pure danger. The way Endo looks over his shoulder to give him one last glance is already enough to have his knees buckling.

[writers-potion]

Writing Weapons (4): Clubs, Maces, Axes, Slings and Arrows

Clubs & Maces

Maces are refined versions of clubs, usually made from steel and flanged or spiked.

Perfect for smashing and plate armour and for crushing skulls.

When used on horseback, the rider uses continuous swining motion and leans to the side to hit.

Type of Fight Scene: gritty, historical fiction, smashing armour

Typical user: brawny male with broad shoulders nad bulging biceps

Mostly used in: historical fiction - Stone Age to Middle Ages

Main Action: smash, crush, bludgeon, batter

Main motion: downwards

Typical injury: crushed bones, crushed skull

Strategy for lethal fight: crush skull

Disadvantages: heavy, need to get closer to the opponent

Batle Axes

Used by a peasant or lumberjack

Special battle axes are bigger and heavier, with longer handles

A weapons for attack rather than defence, good at cleaving through armour

Can break through enemy shields and kill a charging horse.

They require intense training, so users are highly skilled elite soldiers, often aristocrats.

Types of Fight Scene: gritty, brutal, battles, attack, historical fiction, fantasy fiction, cutting through armour

Typical User: tall brawny male with broad shoulders and bulging biceps, courageous, elite soldier, Viking, Saxon

Mostly Used In: European Dark Ages to Middle Ages

Main Action: cleave, hack, chop, cut, split

Main Motion: downwards

Typical Injury: severed large limbs, split skulls, cleaved torsos

Strategy for Lethal Fight: severe the arm which holds the sword or the shield, or cleave torso from top to bottom, or cut off a lef then split the skull

Disadvantages: big and heavy

Bows and Arrows

They are weapons of mass use. Hundred of arrows are shot at the enemy to inflict as mcuh damagne as possible from a distance.

In the middle of the battle and for close combat, they're useless.

Castles were designed for the use of bows and arrows, with narrow windows called 'archer slits'. The top of the outer walls were desgined so archers could shoot while remaining under cover.

Arrows are relateively cheap and quickly to produce. Tips an be metal or sharpened stone, wood, bone, glass splinters, etc.

Pieces of feather at the end help the arrows fly better, but knowing which part of the feather to attach how and where is much -treasured knowledge.

Characters can learn the basics of archery can be done quickly at an emergency. However, to be really good it takes years of practice.

Most important skill is to be able to shoot many arrows in quick succession.

Stone Slings

Stone slings are cheap to make - it only takes a piece of leather, string and ammunition are simply pebbls lying around.

This makes it good for low-tech historical periods and for characters of all ages and physical capacities.

Doesn't require great physical strength, but a lot of practice is required to achieve accuracy.

Different cultures have different techniques for holding and releasing, none of which includes the continuous frantic whirling around beloved by moview makers. Rotatin is usually done once or twice, or not at all.

(1) the slinger hooks the end of the sling over her fingers (2) holds the hand above the shoulder so the sling's bag with the stone in it hangs down behind her shoulder. (3) flings it straight forward.

Blunders to Avoid

Depicting an axeman as an unkilled brute who chops blindly.

Battles where the archers shoot when sword fighters are already engaged in close fighting

[hydriko]

THE BOY IS MINE.

jealousy trope but beach version : kuroo tetsuro x reader

genres / warnings : fem reader, jealous kuroo, creepy men, aged up characters, fluffy, established relationship, cursing (lmk if I missed anything!)

notes : hey everyone back at it again writing because its the one thing I can manage to do

Kuroo never seemed like the jealous type, at least you’d never experienced it first hand. He was typically laidback when you went out, but maybe that was because he never left your side and stared down any guy who even looked your direction.

But now that summer had arrived, temperatures spiking and attire requiring to be a little more revealing—something felt a little different.

You two were at the beach, and the swimsuit you wore was more or less skin-showing (as most bikinis are). You sunbathed while Kuroo went to go to the bathroom and do his thing, seagulls infesting the waters and the sound of the waves practically lulling you to sleep.

Sitting up, you decided to look for Kuroo. He was supposed to be taking a bathroom break, but he was taking an awful long time. You made your way towards a bathrooms, deciding to wait outside of the stalls. Before you could wait in peace, though, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, sweetheart,” A deeper voice came from behind you, practically making your soul jump from your body. You whipped your head around, coming face-to-face with a man who was at least twice your age.

“I noticed you from over there,” He began, gesturing to a beachside bar behind him, “Couldn’t help but come over here and shoot my shot.” He held a martini in his hand, signifying that he was intoxicated—not that it made it any better.

The way he spoke offset you a bit, confidence and lust laced within his scruffy voice that just made your stomach queasy. You looked around, desperate for Kuroo to show up and save you from this weird man.

“What, cat got your tongue? Or are you just enjoying the view?” He smirked, flexing his nonexistent muscles to try and show off.

“Uhm, no. You look old enough to be my dad. Plus, I have a boyfriend.” You quipped, grimacing as you thought about his statement. You watched his face fall, unable to tell what he would do next.

“He doesn’t have to know…c’mon, doll, let’s go have some fun—” You felt an arm wrap around your waist, the sound of your boyfriends voice allowing you to let out a breath you had no idea you were holding.

“Hey, baby, who’s this?” Kuroo asked, leaning down to peck your cheek as his eyes shot daggers at the man. You looked up at him, shrugging and hoping he’d be able to tell that you were uncomfortable.

“This is the boyfriend? What a shame, I could treat you be—”You watched the man move closer, reaching out a hand to touch your shoulder.

“Alright, old man, back the fuck up,” Kuroo’s hand swatted away the other guy’s, his demeanor changing entirely. “Don’t you know that no means no?”

The older man put his hands into the air defensively, taking a step back with a surprised look on his face. “Woah there, bud, let’s calm down—”

“I’ll calm down when you leave my girlfriend alone,” Kuroo snapped back, pulling you closer to him. You silently watched, completely frozen and unsure what to do. Good thing you had a boyfriend who could handle shit like this.

Relief washed over you as the older man scoffed, walking back over to the bar to wallow in his embarrassment. Kuroo turned to you, a softer, more gentle look on his face. “You okay?”

You nodded, smiling as you began walking back to your stuff. “You handled that well,” You hummed, lying back down onto your towel. It was admirable, really, and you were glad you could see that side of him.

“Of course I did, I’m not gonna let some creep steal my beautiful girlfriend from me.” He folded his arms over his chest, the pout on his face making you laugh. He laid beside you, putting his hands behind his head.

You rolled over onto your stomach, resting your chin on your palm as you gave him a loving gaze. “I love you,” You mumbled after a moment of silence, reaching out to brush a tuft of hair from his face.

“I love you more,” He smiled, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it.

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | 18:39 ⏤HEROES IN TATTOOS

01 : RESCUE

SUM. : walking home late from your shift at the pub, you get followed and chased by a crazy drunk. thankfully, you run into the three men running the tattoo and piercing shop down the road

TAGS. : muggle au ; modern au ; tattoo artist sirius ; tattoo artist james ; piercer remus ; protective marauders ; tatted up marauders ; biker sirius ; fluff

WARNING : attempted assault (not explicit + nothing happens) ; stalking behaviour - please stay safe lovelies

LENGTH : 1.3k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

You typically didn’t care much for catching the late shift since you didn’t live too far away from the pub, if you were slow it only took 15 minutes. Most of the walk home was also along the main, where other people could see you so even though it was dark, you still felt safe. You’ve always made it home without feeling at risk of any attack for the last four months, ever since you started working, until tonight. 

It was a regular night shift at the pub, you couldn’t count how many people you served but you made sure to flash your sweet smile for some extra tips here and there. You greeted the regulars and had their drinks prepared for them before they even made an order and occasionally engaged in some idle chatter when you found some free time. It started off well until one of the more difficult regulars came in and started causing a ruckus three pints down. He always tried to get handsy with you but you had your co-workers, manager and the pub goers there to keep him in check so he never got very far. The bastard had left an hour or so before he knew your shift ended so you didn’t think you’d see him again but he had been waiting for you across the street outside and now you were desperate to get home and away from his distressing company. 

But what then?...If you went home he’ll know where you live and god knows what he’d do if he knew that. Your heart stuttered in your chest and your breath caught in your throat from the disturbing images that thought brought on. You won’t ever let that happen, especially since you lived with your friends and would put them in danger too. For now, you’ll take the long route home and maybe find a turning you can run down to escape him in.

Making the turn for the long route back home, you wrapped your coat tighter around you and sped up your pace only to feel your stomach drop at the sound of the footfalls behind you also accelerating. This can’t be happening. There were tears in your eyes as you looked ahead and resolved to start running as soon as you caught most of your breath back. The streets weren’t as busy tonight so people were scarce, which spiked the fear and adrenaline in your veins, heart hammering in your chest. 

“Ay! Slow down will ya’! I just wanna talk sweetheart!” the man shouted suddenly, his smug tone illustrating his malicious grin behind you. The suddenness of his yell shocks your nerves and shoots you forward into a sprint when you realise how much closer he was than you originally anticipated. The terrifying pursuit was on. 

His verbal assaults flew over your head. You blocked them out because your heart was pumping so fast from the adrenaline and fear, your only focus was on keeping up your pace and looking out for anyone that could help you. Just as you were beginning to lose hope, you looked up to see three men exit the tattoo and piercing shop (The Marauders) you walked past when you had more time to get to work. The bulkier one wearing glasses was locking the door as a tall brunette stood by his side with a hand in his pocket and the last man with his black hair up in a small bun made his way over to lean against a parked motorbike, his helmet propped up on the seat beside him. 

“Help!” you call out immediately, desperation and anxiety evident in your voice as your legs sped up to reach them faster, “Help me, please!” The tears had spilled over now as the man behind you also sped up and started shouting louder. The man who had been leaning against his motorbike shot to his feet and opened his arms up for you to run into, which you happily did. At that moment, you had never felt such relief in your life and sobbed freely into his shoulder, “please help,” you cried, “m-make him go away,”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” the biker whispered into your ear, pulling you close by the waist as his other hand gently caressed the back of your head. With you locked in his arms, Sirius steps back some more and moves to put himself between you and your pursuer. 

Panting the drunk bastard pulled an unconvincing friendly grin, “Come on now, guys-”

“Shut it mate,” peering over the biker’s shoulder, you see the brawny man in glasses snarl at the drunk, his arm muscles made taut as he folded them across his chest, flexing his tattoos, “you better fuck off before things get dirty between us, alright?”

“You’re misunderstanding,” the drunk hiccupped and continued, “you see, she’s my girlfriend and she’s just bein’ dramatic aint ya, sweets?”

“That doesn’t matter,” the tall brunette piped up and stepped forward, towering over the disgusting man, “she clearly doesn’t want to be around you right now so you better do what the lady says and get!”

“She’s a little liar is wh-”

“Don’t even try you sick bastard,” James shouts, grabbing the guy by the collar and pushing him back, “we know that you’re the liar here so you better leave the pretty lady alone or else I’ll start swingin’”

Struggling to push James off, the man eventually scrambles away and almost lands face first into the pavement, “You’re bunch o’ pricks!” 

“Yeah yeah yeah, shove it up your arse, dickhead, we don’t care,” the one in glasses waved off and, together with the brunette chased away the poor excuse of a man. 

“Don’t worry, love, he’s gone now…” Sirius whispers comfortingly beside your ear and leans back to take a look at your face with a sympathetic pout, “you’re gonna be okay,” he wipes away your tears and tenderly tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The affection brings a soft smile to your lips and you thank him sincerely in a meek voice, which he smiles at in return. 

“You okay, doll?” James asks, brows furrowing in concern as his anger gradually subsides. He couldn’t believe any man would do such a thing to a lady. The bastard probably grew up in a swamp of some kind with no manners, James truly hopes he gets run over.

“Y-yeah, a little bit,” you smile at them with a grateful nod, “the adrenaline is still there but I’ll be fine,”

Taking in your shaking shoulders, Sirius gives you a tight squeeze and pats your back reassuringly, muttering under his breath, “There, there love,” thankful for his actions, you lean your head against his shoulder and breath in his scent of comfort and safety - leather, green soap, musk and smoke. 

“Well, at least you’re not hurt,” Remus smiles but in his eyes there is still evidence of his earlier rage. He can’t imagine the amount of fear you had to have experienced from such a chilling affair, he feels somewhat protective of you now, especially when you look so small and compliant in Sirius’s arms.

“We’ll walk you the rest of your way home, okay?” James gently insists with a subdued grin, appreciating your cute face when you pull away from Sirius’s shoulder to stare at him wide-eyed.

“Y-you’d do that for me?” you bite your lip, feeling tears well up from how fortunate and relieved you felt. 

“Nonsense, dove,” Remus smiles warmly at you, “it’s not any trouble, it would be more for us since we’d be worrying about you all night, otherwise,” comforted by their reassurance, you let them walk you home and gave them each a hug and one last word of thanks at your doorstep before you waved them off and slipped inside. Safe and sound, you smile to yourself at the thought of your heroes in tattoos. 

NEXT : 02 | THANK YOU

A/N : im practically exposing how james, sirius and remus are comfort characters to me. please stay safe my loves and this is not me trying to romanticise stalking or assault in any way

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS SERIES

[transformers-spike]

Hello ummm can I order a uhh wholesome Starscream x human!SO with the SO being into praising him and caring for him? And he of course is drinking it all up because he needs love and reassurance more than he could ever admit

Yet again my brain decided to go for a full length novel, so I had to pull back and came up with this. Think of this as them before they got together:

“Are you alright?” “Of course I am! Why would you think otherwise?” he snarks, puffing up like a disgruntled cockatiel. You squint and look him up and down with the most “dude, just admit it” expression you can muster. He glares at you for what feels like ages, ridiculous brow plates knitted into a “fucking try me” V. You sigh, take off the welding mask and put down the torch. “I’m worried about you.” Those very same brow plates shoot up to the sky. “Pah! I don’t need your worry!” he scoffs like he isn’t bleeding out in the middle of the woods. “Sure you don’t, but I’ll have you know there’s only so much I can do! We should call Ratchet.” His fist slams to the ground, you stumble but manage to catch yourself before falling face first into the deadly spikes adorning his stiletto. Death by high heel isn’t on your “appropriately ironic deaths” list, but you should add it. If your brain didn’t slosh inside your skull like a snowglobe in the hands of a petulant two year old, you could have sworn the mighty ex-commander of the Decepticons looked apologetic for a split second. “I would rather not deal with the likes of the Autobot medic,” he declares in a slightly softer voice, although not without his usual amount of scorn. “After all, you’re doing just fine,” he croons in a sly, buttering tone. Maybe you could have believed him if he hadn’t been constantly berating you for fucking up the impromptu surgery. You are not a medic, goddammit! Much less well-versed in the art of welding shut a metal alien from a planet light years away! You’re just some car junky with pyromaniac inclinations! But seeing him this way… covered in grime and energon, wings hanging low and servos shaking. You’re glad you didn’t send him to voicemail.

You pat his leg. “Thanks, but if this happens again I’m calling Bulkhead to haul your ass back to base whether you like it or not.” Putting on your welding mask, you keep working. Starscream stays oddly quiet, not even bothering to beep at you indignantly when your torch falls out of line. It’s no Picasso, but the bleeding has stopped. After you step back to give him some space, he tests out his leg, standing up and shifting his weight from side to side. The injured leg strains but does not collapse. “Good?” you ask. “Manageable,” he mumbles in his typical “it kinda sucks but I have to be grateful” way.

Pride fills you up like a single mom downing martinis during happy hour. Although not the best compliment, it’s a Ritz-Carlton coming from him.

“Do you want to go back to base? Or just… hang out here? In the middle of the woods?” He wrinkles his optical ridge at you but doesn’t answer.

“Okay,” you drawl out, taking a seat on possibly the most comfortable rock in Nevada. Years pass by – or so it feels like – waiting for the usually extremely bitchy (thus chatty) bot to break the silence. He does not. “I think I should go,” you sit up and thumb at your car, parked all the way across the woods on the main road, a good hike from where you’re currently at. “Don’t,” he hisses. His expression is almost… forlorn if not for his angry brows. Oh fuck off, the emotionally constipated airplane war criminal can’t ask you to hang out without hurting his pride. Which makes you the responsible adult of the situation compared to the billion year old metal chicken. And by God, you are the least responsible person you know (excluding Starscream).

So you sit your ass back down and lock eyes with said chicken. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened?” you ask, fully expecting him to shut you down by calling you fleshling and waving your humanity over your head like a shitty “begone” charm.

Instead, he thinks about it, averting his gaze from you and turning it to the vast wilderness beyond the trees. “Vehicons,” he states bitterly. “Either it was a purely coincidental dogfight or… Megatron is after me.” His whole frame shudders, wings sinking as low as they can go.

“I see.” You pause to take a deep breath. “Do you want to tell the Autobots?”

He shakes his helm and loosens a self-deprecating chuckle from his vocalizer. “Like they would listen to me.” You scrunch up your nose. “How about I tell them? Would that be easier for you?” His optics widen for a brief moment before returning to their perpetually conniving state. “I’m not delighted with the option, but it’s preferable considering their propensity for gathering unsolicited information.” The silence returns. “Hey, I know it’s not the best time to bring this up. But you don’t even have to answer, just please hear me out.” He peers at you wordlessly. “You’ve been through-” you gesture at dry neon blue energon adorning his frame “-a lot lately. I’m not asking you to talk about your feelings or anything like that, but if you ever need someone to just… be around, I’m here.” His expression hasn’t shifted one bit. It’s completely unreadable. You continue on with gritted teeth. “Personally, I’ve never defected from an extremely violent faction and been hunted down through the sky, but I find it’s easier to suffer around friends and family. They help shoulder the pain.”

He arches a metal brow. “Are you implying we’re friends?” “I mean-” you stammer, “I definitely consider you a friend. If you don’t, that’s fine, I’m not forcing you or anything. To each their own. But that’s beside the point-” A lengthy chuckle cuts you off. “Does a friend answer their comm in the middle of the night cycle and perform surgery with sub-optimal tools?” You’re not sure if he’s insulting you or trying to make a meaningful point. Maybe both. “If so,” he continues, lips quirking into an intimidating but somehow genuine smile, “we are friends.” Your brain flatlines. “Oh,” you whisper. “OH,” it hits you like an F-15 Fighting Falcon at full speed. “I… okay. So, um, if you want to hang out and stuff, I can stick around until five o’clock. Then I’ll have to leave and get ready for work.”

“Good enough,” he scoffs good-naturedly, having returned to his bitchy old self with slightly less bitchiness. But the smile he doesn’t bother hiding betrays something deeper. Starscream is your friend. Starscream called himself your friend. Holy shit, you think you’re going to have an aneurysm.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

Hi! Just here to say that i loved What's in Between so much and i truly was meltinggg with part II 💕💕💕

I've never requested anything before and I don't rlly know how this works so it's all good if you decide no to write this one, but for the request: is it possible for it to be a hurt/comfort, Miguel x reader with the prompt "Talk to me, please. You need to keep your eyes open. Just a little longer"?

𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞, 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Summary: It was supposed to be a regular mission on any normal day at Spider Society, but momentary distractions are costly and you may have just paid the ultimate price.

Warnings: Mentions of injury and death, BUT IT GETS SOFT I PROMISE.

“Miguel!” you say, bounding up to him with a pep in your step. He looks down at you with a small smile on his face, but it disappears as Jess glances over at him.

“You know you don’t have to pretend to be stoic all the time, how long have we known each other?” She asks, and he only rolls his eyes.

“This isn’t pretending,” he says to her before turning back to you. “Ready?” he asks.

“Always.”

Today was like any normal day at Spider Society, filled with missions to protect the canon of the multiverse. Albeit a little different, because it wasn’t too often that you were able to go on a mission with Miguel. He typically went on them alone, working best without distractions. But whenever he needed a partner you were his first choice.

With one last glance at each other (and a wink that makes Miguel snort) you both head through the portal.

It never gets tiring, travelling to a different dimension. What’s fascinating is the in-between, swirls of bright oranges, reds and blues all as an interconnected web between all possible universes in the multiverse. You get lost in the view, which is probably why you never realize that at the same time, Miguel gets lost in you.

After a little bit, you both emerge on the other side.

“That never gets old,” you grin at him.

“No…no, it doesn’t,” he says, his eyes trailing over your form for a moment.

“So, what’s the deal with this universe today?” you ask, and Miguel huffs softly.

“You would know if you ever listened to the mission briefings,” he says, giving you a side-eye as you both walk around the abandoned factory.

“Why do I need to listen when you’d just tell me anyway, love?” you ask, and he only sighs.

“Yes, but I shouldn’t have to say it twice, amor,” he mocks and you laugh out loud. Your laughter is contagious because Miguel lets out a chuckle himself before continuing.

“She’s a villain from Earth-17502, her main weapons are wooden spikes that emerge from her back and a pistol. What she lacks in speed she has in brute force, and the spikes can be shot out at 100km per hour, regenerated with hammerspace,” he explains.

“So like…a demented Sonic the Hedgehog?” you snicker.

“What? No, I just said she wasn’t fast,” he says, confused.

“No wait, a demented porcupine,” you say, and he only snorts. “Sure, querida.”

“Ugh, disgusting. Romance,” a disembodied voice interrupts, and the two of you immediately go on the defence. From the shadows emerges said villain in question, a cruel expression on her face as she readies her pistol by her side.

Without warning she begins shooting, but the two of you are fast and in sync, splitting off and slinging away with your webs.

“Look bud, I’m sorry that your love life is sad but don’t take it out on us!” You shout, swinging around with a relaxed look on your face.

She only lets out a growl, continuing to shoot at you to no avail. Behind her, Miguel is making his own advance, but like a triggered trap her spikes shoot out before he can get too close.

“Shit!” he says, leaping out of the way just in time.

“It wouldn’t do you well to sneak up on me, little one,” she laughs cruelly. “Wouldn’t want to get skewered!”

Now it's a game of ‘try to avoid the bullets and the spikes flying in all directions at once’, and it seemed like you were at a stalemate.

“There’s no way to get close to her!” you say frustratedly, leaping from pillar to pillar as you continue to evade her bullets. It seemed her frustration seemed to reach a peak as well as she lets out a shout, unable to hit her marks. You move down to the floor, trying a new approach from the ground.

“We’ll figure it out, we always do,” Miguel reassures, and you let out a little smile.

But in that minuscule second of distraction the villain finds an opening, and before you know it a spike is flying straight for you with no time to evade it.

“NO!!” you hear him shout, but it was already too late. All the while, the villain only laughs in the face of your anguish. The spike impales your side, and for a few breathless moments, you don’t even feel it, as though it was nothing more than a punch to the side, a bit of pressure. The adrenaline pumping through your veins does its job of allowing you to not feel the pain.

But as you stumble slightly, it starts to settle in. All at once the searing hot pain hits you like a train, and you collapse to your knees, unable to hold yourself up anymore.

Every breath you take becomes more difficult than the last as a ringing fills your ears.

In front of you, Miguel fights with a new vigour you had never seen in him before, claws slashing and webs flying. Each action is served with purpose and no restraint on his strength, and the villain can no longer keep up. But before long your vision starts to fail you as well, closing in on your line of sight as you collapse onto your side with a wheeze. What felt like an eternity was in reality only maybe 30 seconds, but you were so, so tired.

Out of the corner of his eye Miguel sees you collapse, and all he sees is red. Before he can realize it his fangs are out, and he bites through the villain’s neck effectively paralyzing them instantly.

Within moments he is by your side, scooping you up into his arms as you blink blearily up at him.

“LYLA, SEND BACKUP NOW,” he shouts, his voice cracking at the end and for once there is no funny banter between the two of them as she does his orders immediately.

You open your mouth, but no words come out. Slowly you feel your eyes begin to close, but he shouts your name.

"Talk to me, please. You need to keep your eyes open, just a little longer,” he begs, clutching you close. You’ve never heard his voice so broken, not even when he told you about his past.

“It-” you gasp. “It hurts so bad, Miguel,” your voice weak with pain.

He looks at you with panic and fear, but most of all a feeling of helplessness.

“Querida, come on. You’re strong, mi vida. Stay with me, alright?” he says, his hand gently brushing your hair back before he scoops you up, carrying you in his arms.

You can’t help but cry out in pain as he does, the spike digging deeper into your side.

“Fuck, fuck,” he says, moving as fast toward the portal Jess had just opened up. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I need to get you to the infirmary, alright? You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay,” he says, trying desperately to believe it himself.

But he doesn’t know anymore. You’ve lost too much blood, the injury too serious.

It throws him back to when he was carrying his daughter like this, frantically running as the world falls apart around him.

But this time it was you. His light, the best to have ever happened to him amongst the infinite possibilities throughout the multiverse, the one person that managed to pull him out of the pit he had fallen into after the destruction of his daughter’s world.

You were his salvation…and he was about to lose you.

“I love you, Miguel,” you say softly, before you let out a violent cough. “In case…in case I’m not here to say it anymore.”

“No, no. Don’t say that. You’ll be able to say it a million more times, alright querida? A million more, and even then it won’t be enough,” he says, but you can’t hear him anymore. You can’t even make out his beautiful face so broken in anguish.

All you can see are the colours of the space between the universes. The oranges, reds and blues.

~

You didn’t think death would be so cold and monotonous. You weren’t exactly sure if you believed in the concept of ‘heaven’ or ‘hell’, the Fields of Elysium were probably closer to what you expected the afterlife to be like. But you definitely didn’t expect it to be so…bland.

It was like an endless void you walked through, no warmth, no ‘light’ to go towards, just you and your thoughts.

Your thoughts.

Miguel.

The guilt hits you like a tidal wave at the fact that you left him alone. Another person was ripped from his grasp by the hands of fate. You couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him, and you did just that by leaving him behind. Even though you promised each other forever on your wedding day, here you were breaking that promise.

You couldn’t find the strength in your legs to continue walking aimlessly anymore. Like that fight in the factory, you fell to your knees, not because of your injury but because of the pain you felt in your heart for hurting the one you loved the most.

You remember his face as he held you in his arms, pleading for you to stay.

He was so warm. He always was.

You missed him.

“Miguel…” you whisper. “I’m sorry for leaving you behind,” you sob.

~

~

~

“Don’t leave me, querida,” a voice says, far off in the distance. Your head whips up at the sound, and you look around desperately trying to hear it again.

“Please…please, I can’t. I can’t do this without you,” the voice says, and in an instant you’re back on your feet following the sound.

“You were the best thing to ever happen to me, vida mía. Somehow loving me in spite of my brokenness. I don’t…I don’t know how to live without you by my side.” You’re running toward the voice now, running through the darkness with it as your guide.

“Don’t leave me…” the voice whispers before fading away, leaving you with nothing to follow anymore.

“NO!” you shout, and before you know it your webs are shooting out from your wrists, catching onto something, and then you’re swinging forward into the unknown.

~

Your hearing is the first of your senses to return, the steady beat of the heart rate monitor gratingly irritating after a while. It was ironic considering it was the first to disappear when you first got injured.

Next is your touch. You feel the weight of the hospital blankets, scratchy but warm.

Not as warm as the hand that grasped your own though, holding it tight.

Your sense of smell and taste come back around the same time, the sterile scent of the hospital unfamiliar, your mouth dry.

The last is your sight. Granted it was a bit difficult to see with your eyes closed, but you hadn’t quite found the strength to open them until now.

Blearily you blink as the bright lights temporarily blind you, but your attention isn’t on them for long. Instead, you turn to Miguel who sits staring at you in shock, eyes so wide it was almost comical.

“Hi,” you say softly, and he only blinks once before his forehead is pressed to your thigh, a broken sob escaping his throat. He grasps your hand all the tighter, as though he was never going to let go.

It makes you almost want to cry too, but instead you lift your arm up weakly before running it through his hair the way you knew he loved.

“I thought, I thought I was going to lose you,” he whispers, his face still pressed into your leg. He says it so quietly that you can barely hear him, like if he uttered the words too loudly they would come true.

“I could never leave you, my love,” you say. “I have to say ‘I love you’ a million times before then, remember? Or was it a billion?” He can’t help but chuckle, finally lifting his head up to look at you.

He looked exhausted, his usual dark circles darker than usual, his red eyes bloodshot. But he looked so, so relieved.

“No amount of times could ever be enough, vida mía,” he says before pressing his lips to yours.

You both smile into the kiss of a thousand swirling emotions, a million words left unsaid but you both understood even despite it all.

“Guess I’ll just have to get started then,” you say with a grin as you pull away.

“I love you, Miguel,” you say.

“I love you, querida,” he says in turn.

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid,@phobia0325, @remuslupinwifeee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @raweggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana--belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @phobia0325, @alcinas-darling-side

A/N: Was thinking of leaving it on a cliffhanger, thought that would be too cruel LMAO. Thank you for reading! And thank you for requesting, anon <3 I had fun with this one hehe

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 13 - Heroes and Villains

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 7.4k words. Eh... Anything I write here would spoil the chapter. Just enjoy.

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (scenting, scuffing), descriptions of torture, panic attacks, blood, descriptions of injuries, medical inaccuracies, pregnancy, death, use of weapons, murder, cannon typical violence, ALOT of crying, can never have enough hurt/comfort, dissociation.

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

You wake to a ringing in your ears. There's so much noise, so many smells. You peel your eyes open, your head is throbbing. Vision blurry as you’re laid on the cold floor.

Pain, so much pain. 

Your neck throbs, the back and the side, you bring your hand up your fingers touching where the pain is. It’s wet, warm and wet, you bring your hand up to your fuzzy vision. 

You’re bleeding, your fingers covered in fresh warm blood. Panic sets in, your adrenaline spikes giving you a moment of clarity, you're bleeding from the side of your neck. There's a deep gash. You press your hand up against it, blood drips between your fingers. 

Pain radiates through your body as you press on the wound causing black spots to flash across your vision. You can’t pass out, you don’t know how much blood you’ve lost. 

You force yourself to your feet. Your head spins and you fall against a cupboard knocking a tray of something on the floor. A fiery pain shoots through your stomach. You press your hand to your side, you can feel your shirt soaked.

More blood, your hand turned crimson red and you try to stand up again. You manage to steady yourself reaching out for the door handle. You push yourself against the door using all the strength you have to open it.

You slip falling to the ground, your blooded hand slipping slaming your face into the floor. You can hear movement, someone is below you. You can’t smell anything as you struggle to pull yourself to your feet, you’re crawling as blood runs down your body. 

You make it to the top of the stairs, reaching out you grip onto the stair railing, forcing your body to pull itself up. You let out a moan of pain, gritting your teeth. Your free hand going to your side. The bleeding there is worse, a deeper cut, more blood, more pain. 

“Piper?” It’s a male voice, calling for Dr. Piper. You try to call out but the words catch in your throat. Your head is spinning you can’t tell where the steps start and end. You’re leaning against the banister, your body starts to shake. You almost want to throw yourself down. Into the hands of whoever is waiting downstairs. Then a figure comes into your view as you go to take your first step. 

It’s Simon. His eyes meet yours, then in an instant he’s striding up the stairs as you struggle to stay standing gripped onto the banister. His arms wrap around you, scooping you up against his chest. 

You must have blacked out for a second because when you come too he’s already out of the lab. The cold air stings your skin, the rain feels like ice hitting your fevered body. You start feeling dizzy, you can feel blood running down your side, your back.  

Your wounds should be healing by now, why are they not healing? Maybe you’ve lost too much blood and your body cannot repair itself? Maybe it’s because you're pregnant? Simon crashes through another set of doors. 

“Get Price!” You hear him shout so loud it has your ears ringing as he lowers you to the floor. You hear other voices now. 

“Holy fuck!” 

“What happened!?” You’re barely clinging on to consciousness. There’s another figure looking over you as someone's hands press against your neck. Someone lifts up your shirt. Hands press on your side. 

Pain that’s all it is, you don’t even have the energy to even cry out. You look up at the figure pressing their hands on your side. 

“Kyle?” Is all you manage to get out before you slip away again. 

…

Price is out of his office before Johnny even makes it to his door. As he turns the corner it’s like his heart stops for a second. You’re sprawled out on the floor, Kyle and Simon bent over you. He can smell the blood in the air before he sees it. 

Then when Kyle gets up to run past him to the bedrooms he sees just how much. Your eyes are closed with Simon's hands pressed against your neck. All he can hear is the loud thumping of his heart in his ears. You’re injured, bleeding and unconscious. His hands ball into fists as he watches blood seep onto the wooden floorboards. 

Something burns inside him, something he has never felt before. He feels a lump form in his throat swallowing hard to get it to go away. Kyle races past him again with a medical pouch in his hands. What the hell happened? Then he hears it.

“John!” He snaps out of his haze, his eyes flicking to Simon. He hasn’t used his name like that in years. He looks round the room, adrenaline kicking in. 

“Soap, go find a medic. Graves has to have one somewhere.” He says walking over to you. He doesn’t wait to hear him say ‘yes sir’ he just hears the door closing as he rushes out. Gaz makes room pressing bandages into Ghost's hands. 

“What happened?” 

“I don’t know, I found her like this in the lab.” 

“Where’s Dr. Montgomery?” 

“I don’t know, I didn’t check but she was alone when I found her.” Price looks over your figure pale, covered in blood as Gaz cuts your shirt away. 

“What can I do?” He asks bending down by your head, he’s not sure what to do, he almost wants to shake you awake. Every fiber of his body is screaming at him to do something, to take you in his arms and not let anyone touch you. That won’t do you any good though, he needs to let them work.

“We got this.” Ghost says his voice level, commanding Price sees the determination in his eyes. Ghost’s in control of the situation, he stands up feeling helpless watching as your bleeding soaks through the bandages. Your wounds should be healing, why are your wounds not healing? 

It feels like time is ticking on for hours. Your body is being moved in such an unnatural way. They’re trying their best. What if it’s not enough? He’s not registering Ghost’s voice as he talks to Gaz. 

Keep it together.  

“What have you got?” Price asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Looks like clean cuts, surgical. One to her neck the other to her side.” Ghost says.

“Why aren’t her wounds healing?” He asks. There’s silence.

“Maybe she’s lost too much blood?” Gaz suggests. That makes his stomach twist. Price is waiting, watching as Gaz and Ghost try to keep your bleeding under control. Ghost’s swearing under his breath, his eyes moving all over your body. A few seconds later Soap comes back in with someone, crashing through the doors with a random shadow.

Price steps back as the stranger bends down next to your head, pulling on gloves. Price’s heart feels like it’s going to explode out his chest. Soap comes over and puts his hand on Price’s shoulder. He watches as the medic calls for more people. For a stretcher. He feels useless, just standing there watching. 

It’s not long before more people are rushing in, a gurney being wheeled over. Ghost and Gaz stand out the way letting the others take over. Ghost has blood on his shirt, his hands and arms crimson. Price watches as you’re moved up onto the gurney, your body limp, unmoving covered in blood. Price takes a step forward. 

“Soap, with me, you two stay here get cleaned up.” 

“I want to come.” Ghost says. Price looks over at him, his demeanor changed, he looks ready for a fight. A fight with whoever did this to you. Why didn’t they kill you? He has to defuse Ghost first before he goes tearing the base up.

“You’re covered in blood, get yourself cleaned up first.” Price says, he’s not in the mood to argue as he watches you being taken through the door.

“What about Dr. Montgomery?” Ghost asks. Shit . He’d forgotten about her. 

“Search the lab. We’ll all meet in the infirmary.” Price says. He walks out the door following the team of people wheeling you towards the main building. He just wants to be near you. He wants to see you wake up.

It’s like things are moving into slow motion. You’re pushed through sets of doors eventually ending up in the infirmary. There are more people now, people in scrubs. They’re cutting your clothes off, hooking up wires and tubes. 

“What happened?” Someone asks him, his eyes flicking someone in scrubs turning to him. 

“I don’t know, she was found like that.” 

“Do you know if she has any allergies or anything?” 

“She’s pregnant.” Price says, some of the people look up in surprise. They look at the woman in scrubs before turning their attention back to you. Soap’s stood by his side watching the same thing. You’re so pale as they hook things up. More people rush in. 

Eventually him and Soap are ushered out of the room. They stand behind the glass window looking in. 

“She’s going to be okay.” Soap says. Price can tell that's mainly for his own piece of mind. He can hear the tremble in his voice, he can smell his fear in the air. It feels like they’re waiting forever before someone comes out to talk to them.

The medic seems confused about you as he explains what’s happened. They’re stitching up the wounds then they can go in and see you. Almost as soon as he’s done Ghost and Gaz burst through the door. Ghost still has blood all over him. He hands a letter to Price. 

Price frowns at him looking at the envelope with ‘ Captain Price’ written on it. He takes it in his hand. There’s something inside. He opens it as everyone's eyes seem to be digging into him. There is a USB in the envelope and a letter. He takes them both out scanning over it. It's from Dr. Montgomery.

It starts with an apology, then it explains what happened. Dr. Ashford had been to see her threatening her with killing the omega if she didn’t hand you over, back to Hale. He had planted a tracker in your neck and a bomb in your hip. 

That's what the wounds were she cut them out. Price lets out a long sigh as he continues to read. Shadow Company was being part funded by the professor, it was Dr. Ashford who planted the hidden cameras for Hale. She’s going to trick them to buy him time, she took the tracker to make it look more realistic. She left the bomb in the medical room. 

The USB contains all her research, so they can find someone to continue the search for a cure. 

‘Don’t come for me, I will likely be dead anyway. Take the omega, keep her safe. Enjoy your vacation.’

Price looks over at you in the bed. Anger bubbles inside him, they’ve let you down, the corruption runs deep. Dr. Montgomery is right, they have to leave. It’s no longer safe. 

“What’s it say?” Soap is the first to ask. 

“Soap, in the lab there’s a bomb. It used to be in her hip, go with Gaz, find it and destroy it.” Soap goes to speak but Price holds his hand up, cutting him off. He steps up to Ghost, he lets out a sigh. He needs to be near you, someone always needs to be near you. 

“Take this, get Laswell. Do not talk to anyone.”  He hands Ghost the letter and USB before turning to look round at Soap and Gaz. “In fact no one talks to anyone about what has happened without my permission.” Everyone nods. 

“From now on someone will be with her 24/7, until we can get out of here.” 

“We’re leaving? What about Dr. Montgomery?” Gaz asks.

“She’s buying us time. I’ll explain later.” He stops talking as the nurse walks out the room nodding and smiling at them. He waits until she has gone through the doors at the end of the corridor. 

“Where are we going?” Ghost asks.

“On holiday.” 

Piper is sitting at the broken sign, she followed the instructions not wanting to draw suspicion. Ashford was right, she was allowed straight out the base, no questions asked. Ashford opens the driver door, smiling at her as he jumps in. 

“Good morning.” He says getting in and closing the door. “I knew you would make it.” Piper doesn’t say anything, she watches him start the engine. 

“What did you do? Knock her out?” He asks as he starts to drive. She sighs she doesn't want to talk to him, but she doesn’t want him to get suspicious. 

“Scruffed her.” She says looking at him. He still has a smile on her face, it makes her feel sick. 

“Good choice.” He says. “She'll be out for a while then.” She sighs again. She thinks back to her plan, her stupid plan. She cut the tracker and bomb out. Left the bomb in the room but took the tracker. It’s in the back of the empty truck. 

It’s a death sentence, she knows that. You’ll be safe and that’s all that matters. 

“Excited about seeing Professor Hale again? I know he’s excited to see you.” She can hear the snickering in his voice. He’s going to look forward to watching her die. She’s looking forward to seeing the shock on his face when he realizes there’s nothing in the trunk. 

He didn't check the trunk. It makes her smile, she hides it with her hand turning to look out the window. 

Hopefully this will buy John enough time to flee, take the omega to Scotland, or wherever John thinks it’s safe. He doesn’t need to worry about her anymore. She left the note and the USB with all her research on it. They’ll be able to find another scientist to continue her work if they want. She looks over at Ashford, the grin still on his face. She ‘s trying hard not to fidget, she knows she's heading to her execution. 

After all the times she’s let you down it’s a fitting end. You’re safe, that's all that matters. She keeps reminding herself of the bigger picture. You’re surrounded by people who are trained to kill and who’s instincts will protect you to the bitter end. You’re safer then you ever could be. 

The truck turns onto the highway, they’ll be in Seattle soon. She had no idea Hale had property in Seattle. They should have gone somewhere else, but it wouldn’t have made a difference. Hale still would have planted Ashford, he would have still been infiltrating them. 

The rest of the drive goes in silence, thankfully Piper likes that. She’s not exactly in the mood for talking with Dr. Ashford. It feels weird being back in a city, after spending so long at the base surrounded by forests was a nice change. She thinks about you again, you like nature, probably because you’ve been kept from it for so long.

She knows you’ll like Scotland, from what John and Johnny had told her about the house it was perfect for you. Surrounded by fields, speckled with woodland and a loch. A perfect place for you to relax with your pack. They’ll take care of you, she knows that, she wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t trust them. John and Simon are strong alphas. 

She smiles as she thinks of Simon. She really enjoyed their talks together even if she was doing it for John in the beginning. She came to look forward to them. If he ever comes out of his shell he’ll make a good alpha for you too. Johnny and Kyle were good beta’s they’ll do a good job taking care of the pack. They are already naturals, from what she’s seen she has no doubt they'll take great care of you. 

You deserve a strong pack, a good life. You deserve to be free from Hale. John will take care of you. They're all good people.

The drive takes another hour before they end up turned into a dock. The place looks abandoned as Dr. Ashford drives across to some rusting shipping containers. She sees a blacked out SUV, the professors. This is it, this is the end. Dr. Ashford turns off the engine getting out of the truck.

Piper waits until she sees Hale getting out of the car. Hale starts walking over to them. It’s taking all her energy to hide her scent. She’s nervous now, this is it. As soon as they see the truck is empty, she just hopes it will be quick. She tries to keep it together as he walks up to her. 

“Nice to see you again, Dr. Montgomery. I knew you would be a big help.” He says, extending his hand out. She ignores it. He huffs, shrugging as he walks round the back of the truck. Piper stands back as Ashford opens the back. 

She’s holding her breath. She looks over at the blanket, the only thing in there is the tracker. She looks over at Ashfords shocked face. She can smell his fear in the air. His head snaps up to Hale as he starts to protest. Hale puts his hand up stopping him. 

She smiles, she does like the look on his face.

“You didn’t check the truck.” Hale sighs, he sounds disappointed. Ashford opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He doesn’t know what to say. He looks over at Piper, his eyes wide the horror of what's happened sinking in. 

Hale sighs again, he takes his pistol off his hip, there’s a few seconds as he runs his fingers over the barrel then brings it up and shoots Ashford point blank in the head. 

It happens quickly, so quickly that Piper’s not even sure it really happened until she sees his body fall to the floor. Her hand flys to her mouth. Her fear is strong in the air now, eyes wide as Hale steps up to her. He presses the barrel of the gun on her forehead. It’s hot, burning her skin, she’s trying not to wince, holding her breath.

This is it, this is how she’s going to die. She closes her eyes, she wants her last thought to be of you, surrounded by your pack, safe. 

“ Fuck .” Hale says the gun leaves your forehead. She opens her eyes, his back is facing her, she can see him shaking his head. Her hand goes up to rub the back of her neck. She’s alive.

“Unfortunately you’re still useful to me.” He spits, his voice is harsh in the air. She looks down at the body on the floor, blood pooling out his head. Her heart is thumping so hard in her chest, her legs shaking, she feels like she’s about to pass out. 

“Fucking usless!” Hale shouts, kicking the tire on the truck. She’s still convinced he’s going to kill her. What does he mean she’s still useful? He strides over to her pressing the gun against her head as he drags her over to his car. He reaches down, opening the trunk.

“Get in.” He orders. 

“Why not just kill me?” She asks, nerves slipping through making her voice crack. 

“Because I still don’t have the omega. Now get in the fucking truck!” His voice is almost a growl, his alpha thick in the air making goosebumps rise on her neck. She uses all her energy to ignore the command. Everything in her body screams for her to follow the order. 

A growl raises in his throat as his hand comes up to the back of her neck. He’s too quick for her and his hand rests round her neck. He’s not squeezing though, Piper looks in his eyes and he looks angry. She grits her teeth as he squeezes, black spots flash in her vision as she keels over. 

Pain radiates down her spine, her body hitting the back of the car as Hale forces her in slamming the trunk door behind her . As soon as his hand is off her neck she catches her breath. She rubs the back off her neck sucking in breaths trying to stop her head from spinning. She feels the driver door being closed as Hale gets into the car and starts driving. 

She lets herself have a moment to panic in the dark of the trunk. Maybe Hale just wants to take her somewhere else to kill her. Or worse, use her to get to the omega. No, she’ll die before she lets that happen. 

You open your eyes to brightness. The sky is dull, full of swollen gray clouds and bright yellow sunlight forcing itself through. The tops of the pine trees are swaying in the wind. It remains of your rescue, the first thing you remembered was the sunlight, the open sky. 

It's not the same though there's a dread pulling you back to reality. Then there's the pain. So much pain.

Everything hurts, your body throbbing as you try to orient yourself. You turn your head, stretching your neck hurts, you cry out in pain squeezing your eyes closed. You feel someone grab your hand. You look round, opening your eyes to see Johnny. He smiles at you squeezing your hand. 

“Dr. Piper.” You croak your throat dry, sore. There is no one else in the room. Where is John? Where is Dr. Piper?

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Johnny says standing up stroking your hair. His hand is warm on your head. You can smell him projecting his scent on you. He’s trying to keep you calm. 

“Where is she?” You ask looking round the room, each movement of your head hurts. She should be here, panic rises in you and you sit up in bed. Your head spins as pain radiates down your spine. You wince as your hand flies up to the back of your neck. It’s raw your hand pulls away, it feels like you’ve been burned. You were scuffed, she scuffed you. You whine in pain as you force yourself to assess the damage around your body.

Johnny keeps a tight hold of your hand, his other hand supporting your back. There are wires coming off your chest. A tube in your nose blowing cold air, There are thick bandages, one on the side of your neck the other on your hip. You look over at Johnny, tears in your eyes as you look round his face. He looks sad. 

“Lay down, you need to rest, you were injured.” He says, his hand on your shoulder gently pressing you down. You’re not listening though you need to see her. Tears roll down your face, you can’t tell if it’s the pain or sadness. 

“Where is she?” You ask looking up at Johnny, despite for answers. His scent is strong in the air, he’s really trying to calm you. It’s not helping, the smell of beta just makes you feel sick, you want Dr. Piper.

“Don’t worry about it, you need to take it easy,” he says, squeezing your hand. You don’t want to, you want to know where she is. What happened? Why did she scuff you, why were you bleeding? 

“What happened?” You ask, the tears are coming fast. 

“Simon found you in the lab, do you remember what happened?” Johnny asks. 

“Dr. Piper, she scruffed me. She was doing a scan. I can’t remember what it was called.” You say. You’re trying to hold the sobs back. Johnny nods, he squeezes your hand again, shuffling closer to the bed. 

“An ultrasound, she cut out the bomb and the tracker.” He says. You’re holding your breath.

“What bomb? What Tracker?” You ask, worry washes over you. There was a tracker in you. Never mind that a bomb? Johnny seems to see the confusion on your face. 

“Dr. Ashford, he planted a tracker in you, and a bomb. Dr. Montgomery cut them out. That’s what your injuries are.”  You’re listening to his explanation but it doesn’t sound real.

“Where is she?” You ask, maybe she got into trouble. Maybe John is punishing her for hurting you. 

“We don’t know where she is.” He sounds sad as he squeezes your hand again. Panic rises in you. You’re sucking in breaths of air. What if she’s hurt? What if they can never find her? What does he mean they don’t know where she is? 

What if you never see her again? What if she’s betrayed you? Your heart aches, you just want to see her.

“Relax lass, c’mon deep breaths,” Johnny says standing up. You don’t know what to do, you’re in too much pain. Everything burns as your eyes well up with water making Johnny look fuzzy. His hand lands on your chest as you force yourself to suck in breaths of air. Even with fresh oxygen being blown into your nose it feels like you can’t get a proper lungfull. 

She’s gone. She hurt you and she’s gone. Your head is swimming as you calm down, Johnny’s hands warm stroking your hair, dabbing the tears out your eyes. He doesn’t say anything, he just stands there keeping you calm. 

“Where’s John?” You ask, although it comes out more like a whisper.

“He’s busy, they’re trying to find her.” Johnny says. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to find her.” 

You let yourself cry, you let the tears come as Johnny hushes you, stroking your hair and wiping your tears. It’s not okay, it’s never going to be okay again. You close your eyes. 

Price is standing against the wall in Shepherds office, Kate is sat at the desk. Price and Ghost cleared the room, one bug just a microphone hidden under the desk. Ghost is standing on the other side of the door waiting for Shepherd. 

Price’s anger had been building since he saw you laid injured on the floor in the barracks. Soap had been giving him updates almost every half hour on the dot. He hasn’t been able to see you since you woke up, you’ve been asking for Dr. Piper which just makes his heart ache more. Your wounds still haven’t started healing themselves. 

Dr. Montgomary did the right thing, she’s buying them time. They could flee, go to Scotland but she has always been right. You will never be safe until Hale is dead. 

The door handle clicks and Shepherd walks in looking confused as Ghost comes in behind him.

“I thought the meeting was scheduled for 11?” He says going round to sit in his chair. 

“The situation has changed.” Price says throwing the microphone on his desk. Shepherd picks it up looking over it frowning before looking back up at Price. 

“Don’t worry, it was the only one we found.” Price says.

“Your computers clear too.” Laswell follows up. 

“What do you want?” Shepherd asks, leaning back in his chair.

“I want to know why you didn’t tell us Professor Hale was paying Shadow Company.” Price asks, crossing his arms. Shepherd sighs.

“ Partially funding them, the DOD is funding the rest. They’re not going to say no to being able to fund an entire base for half the price.” Shepherd says. 

“Well, I certainly hope you haven’t been talking about anything important here.” Price says. Shepherd sighs, he seems irritated. 

“Is that all you want? Me to apologise for not telling you about Shadow Company?” He asks. 

“No, we need you to sign off on a mission.” Price says as Laswell hands him the file she made up. Shepherd takes it, opening it, Price watches as he scans over it. He looks up at him before shaking his head. 

“Kill Professor Hale. I can’t sign off on that and you know that captain.” Shepherd puts the folder down. 

“He has Dr. Montgomery.” Price says. If she’s still alive.

“Not my problem, did he kidnap her? You have no reason to go after him. The DOD wants this project to continue. She just is not a priority.” Shepherd explains. 

“We’re going after him regardless, it just depends on how much red tape we rip through.” Price says.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you captain. Going after him will make you an enemy of the state. Disobeying orders, killing an innocent man-” Ghost scoffs. Price looks over at him, his eyes focused on Shepherd.

“It will cost you your jobs. Dishonorable discharge, if you’re lucky.” He says annoyance rising in his voice. 

“Your choice.” John says shrugging. There’s silence while Shepherd stares him down. They’re interrupted by a knock at the door. Shepherd looks over and Ghost opens the door moving to the side. It’s a random soldier, no one Price recognises. 

“Sorry to bother you sir. Commander Graves would like to see you in the conference room.” The man looks round at all the people in the room. “He says it’s urgent.” Shepherd sighs, getting up. Laswell picks up the folder and they all follow him out the room. There is tension in the air as they walk the short distance. Price can tell Shepherd would rather not be dealing with this right now. 

When they get into the room Graves stands up he looks over everyone piling in.

“Well look at that, the whole gang's here, maybe you can help explain this.” Graves says going over to the laptop hooked up to the projector and pressing play. Price watches as the screen fades from black to show Dr. Montgomery. She’s tied up to a chair, her head slumped forward, blood running down her face, her clothes stained red.

Professor Hale steps into frame. He walks up next to her pulling her head up by her hair. 

“I have an offer for you. One I don’t think you’ll want to refuse. The omega for the cure.” Price’s stomach sinks. This was what he was afraid of. In some ways it’s easier if she was dead. Now she’s a bargaining chip, now there’s a chance they can save her. Ghost walks up to Price he can smell his anger in the air. 

“Get Gaz, tell Soap to keep the omega away.” Price says. Ghost nods and leaves the room. He steps up to Shepherd.

“Want to rethink that mission now?” Price asks.

When you wake the sun is setting, the lights had been set low. It really is like the first time you were rescued. Your body still hurts, your wounds still are not healing. Clearly it’s not a blood problem, it must be because of the pregnancy. 

You don’t want to be here, you want to be back in the barracks, in your nest. You start taking off all the wires and tubes. You swing your legs out the bed, the room is cold, there's a thin pair of slippers by the bed that you pull on. 

You’re surprised no one is with you but you don’t mind, if John or anyone was here they would most likely make you stay in the hospital which is the last thing you want. You’re only wearing a thin hospital gown, you don’t care you can change when you get back in the barracks. 

You’re not quite sure where you are, you assume you’re in the main building, you follow the signs to the exit hoping you’ll be on the right side of the base. There’s no one around the whole place feels like a ghost town, 

You’re walking down a corridor when you can see light spilling out through a room window. You walk up to it looking in everyone's there, even Kate and Graves, Johnny is missing. Maybe he was the one supposed to be keeping an eye on you. They’re looking at a video on a projector. Your breath catches in your throat when you see what it is. 

It’s the professor and Dr. Piper. Your hand goes over your mouth, the tears come. She’s bloody, head slumped over in the chair with her arms tied down. You press the door open slightly so you can hear the audio. 

You focus on containing your scent, you don’t want them to know you’re there. 

“All I want is the omega. Simple swap, bring me the omega and you can have Dr. Montgomery, alive.” The professor's voice comes through. The speakers, the camera gets zoomed in on Dr. Piper. You hold the gasp in your throat. 

He’s bleeding her, making sure her body loses just enough blood so she can’t heal her wounds. The Professor did that to you a few times before. Mainly to see how long you could last. 

You know she’ll be in pain, you know he’ll make sure she’s in pain.

“Tell them what happened to Dr. Ashford.” Professor Hale says as he comes into the camera view and presses a pistol to her head. She can barely keep her head up as he pulls on her hair. She looks at him without saying a word.  

“Well, he’s dead. I am getting pretty sick of killing off all the useful people.” He says letting her head fall back down. You can smell anger in the air. Heads turn to look over at Shepherd. The video gets paused. 

“Sending her back would be a death sentence.” John says. Before anyone gets a chance to say anything.

“We didn’t know Professor Hale would go this far but this project is still very much a secret. There are no protections promised, especially for the omega. Technically she doesn’t even exist.” Shepherd says.

“What are you implying?” Simon asks, his presence is the most intimidating in the room.

“I’m implying you don’t want to do anything rash.” Shepherd says. There's silence in the room again, the tension is heavy in the air. For a few seconds you think they’re going to spot you peeking through the door. Instead everyone seems to go back to their previous positions. The video stands up again. 

It makes you feel sick, seeing Dr. Piper so beat up, she’s always been so put together, the lipstick and the glasses. She’s a doctor, a scientist. 

“We’ll make the trade at the attached address. Give us the omega, we’ll give you the cure." Professor Hale’s voice is harsh in the air. You can see how labored Dr. Piper’s breaths are. You want to open the door, barge in and tell them to save her. 

Who would that help? You? It’s your fault she’s in that position.

It should be you, not her. 

The video ends. The screen frozen on an image of Dr. Piper, her head slumped forward, blood running down her face. There's silence in the room.

You feel sick. Adrenaline pumps through you. Your eyes are filling with water, you can’t believe this. A sob leaves your throat, you can’t control your scent anymore.  Heads turn to see you, nostrils flaring, people getting up out of chairs. 

You turn, you run. 

Your body throbs, the pain in your neck and side burning. You hear people calling after you, you ignore them. You can’t believe what you’ve seen. Dr. Piper's blooded face, her pained words, the gun held at her head.

You can’t keep running. It's too painful you trip, your body slamming painfully against the floor. You don’t have the energy to move, you just sob, pulling your knees up to your chest. 

Your sobs become screams as the images of her being tortured the same way you were filling your mind. It’s your fault, she gave her life for you. 

Someone kneels down beside you trying to move you. You fight them, you don’t want anyone to touch you. You scream out at whoever it is, you scratch them and they back off. Your breathing becomes pants, it feels like someone is sitting on your chest. There are voices all around you, more hands trying to move you. You tense your body trying to make yourself as heavy as possible. 

It takes too much energy though and you relent your body going limp. Someone's hand rubs your back.

“Take it easy lass.” Johnny's voice. You shake your head, you can’t. You just put your head in your hands letting yourself sob. You’re getting lightheaded, hyperventilating as people talk around you. There are raised voices, heavy footsteps. 

Someone scoops you up in their arms. You squirm using all the energy you have. You try to push against the chest of whoever is picking you up but they’re too strong, their arms wrapped tightly around you shushing you. 

“Just leave me alone.” You sob your throat raw, your wounds pulsing. Maybe you’ve torn stitches, maybe you’ll bleed out. 

You can smell alpha, it’s John you’re in his arms, he's shushing you. You don’t care, nothing he can say, nothing he can do will make it better. He doesn’t say anything though. He carries you in silence all the way back to the barracks. 

By the time you get in your sobs have become sniffles. He takes you into his room putting you down on the bed pulling the covers over you. You expect him to leave, leave you to sob your heart out until you’re exhausted. 

He doesn’t though, he gets into bed behind you wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up against his chest. There's no words, no pressure to talk, he just holds you. You can feel his breathing, hear his heart beating. 

“He’s going to kill her.” You say after a while, your voice almost a whisper. More tears spill out. 

“You need to do the trade.” You say. He squeezes you tighter.

“Over my dead body.” He says. 

“He’s going to kill her.” You repeat. You don’t want her to die. 

“We’ll get her back, she’s not going to die.”  He says. You close your eyes. You want to believe him, you trust him. If they thought they could save her, why haven’t they left yet? You can’t keep your eyes closed for long. Images of Dr. Piper being tortured plague your mind.

“John, will you kill him, Professor Hale?” You expect a no, a ‘only if necessary.’

“We’ll kill him, and we’re going to get her back. I promise.” 

You don’t remember falling asleep, you remember changing clothes. You remember John leaving and Johnny trying to get you to eat. John said you're not to be alone, or leave the barracks. When Johnny realised you weren't going to eat he let you go back to bed. 

You sleep in John's room, you want to feel near him. When you wake Kyle is in the bed with you. You can see light coming through the bottom of the curtains, it could be the flood lights though.

Kyle is still sleeping, his mouth open drooling on John’s pillows. You want to reach out and touch him. At the same time you don’t want to disturb him.

You enjoy the few blissful minutes forgetting about Dr. Piper, ignoring your pain, just watching Kyle sleeping peacefully. 

The pain hits you first, the back of your neck is still raw. Your wounds are still not healing, thick bandages cover the stitches. 

The tears come, you didn’t think you could cry more but it’s becoming a constant stream of sobbing. You didn’t think you could produce more tears, your eyes and cheeks still sore from yesterday. Kyle’s calming scent is strong in the air but it’s not helping. 

You feel sick, empty. You’re here and Dr. Piper’s being tortured, you know what the professor likes to do, you know she’s going to be in pain. The images make your stomach jump. You can’t just lie here, you want to do something. 

You prop yourself up on your arm, Kyle stirs in bed his eyes blinking open as he looks at you. You sit up swinging your legs off the edge of the bed. There’s a chill in the air. 

“You okay?” Kyle asks. You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to say anything. You get up leaving the room. You can hear hushed voices in the common room, you ignore them going towards your room. Dr. Piper's door is open. You close your eyes breathing in her scent still strong in the air. You press the door open further, her clothes are still laid out. Her shoes by her bed. There's a book and glasses on the bedside table. 

You walk in, running your hand over her desk, stacked with papers, her laptop still open but off. She has a big window in her room too but the blinds are down. You go over to it pulling them open. It’s light out, you can’t see the sun but the sky is clear. You open the window, it only opens a few centimeters just like yours. 

Her scent is drowned out by the rush of fresh air. You look over at her bed, the covers thrown back. 

She should be here. It should be you with the professor. 

Your lip trembles as you press your hand against the glass. You let out the sob that’s been building up in your throat. There’s a pain in your chest now, an ache you’ve never had before. Your hand lands on your heart, it’s like it’s being ripped out your chest. 

Your legs give way and you fall to your knees pressing your head on the wall. You miss her, you miss her so much it hurts. You thought you’d lost her once. Now she’s gone again. You breathe in the fresh air, it’s not helping. Your whole body hurts. You deserve the pain. 

Your low sobs become cries again. You howl and cry until you’re exhausted, your whole body is shaking your head spinning with pain. You deserve this. 

You can’t do this. It hurts too much, you close your eyes. You lay down pulling your legs to your chest, each breath stings your lungs, each beat of your heart makes your wounds throb. 

Someone steps up behind you, a blanket is lowered over you. 

“Leave me alone.” You say, you don’t want anyone near you other than Dr. Piper. They should be trying to rescue her instead of being here. You’re mad at them, why aren’t they trying to rescue her. It’s Johnny who sits down behind you. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even touch you. He just sits there projecting a calming scent over you. You want to tell him to stop, it’s not helping anyway. 

“If you were going to save her you would have left already.” You say, your voice is low, raw from all the sobbing. 

“We’re leaving tonight.” He says. You don’t believe him. “We had to wait for a few things to fall into place.” You want to turn to look at him but you can’t. Fresh tears come now, you shiver as you pull your legs closer to your chest. 

You can’t do this any more. 

When you were in the bunker and the professor was hurting you you could go to a place in your mind to get away from it all. The house on the hill with the pies. The warm summer evening, the sound of the lake. Your mother looking through the window as you played in the garden. It’s not your mother you see anymore it’s Dr. Piper. 

This is it, it's what you need, you need to go back to that place in your mind. 

The house on the hill, the pies, warm summer evening. The sound of the lake as you play in the garden. The sun is setting. You replay it over in your mind. You can smell the cinnamon, the caramelized sugar. The breeze, the birds. 

“The house on the hill, the pies, the lake, the summer’s evening.” You whisper under your breath squeezing the blanket. 

“What’s that love?” Johnny asks, leaning over you. You ignore him repeating the mantra.

“The house on the hill, the pies, the lake, the summer’s evening.” Johnny’s hand rests on your shoulder. He strokes the hair out your face. 

“The house on the hill, the pies, the lake, the summer’s evening.” you close your eyes. You’re there in your mind, you block out everything else. You can smell it, feel the breeze, the grass between your toes. Dr. Piper is there too, safe, watching you through the window. 

You block it out, you block it all out, there’s no pack, there’s no pain. Dr. Piper is safe and she’s happy. You let the smell of cinnamon comfort you. This is what you need, a safe place you’ll stay here until she’s back. 

Next Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui Beta reader and editor - rememberwren Send love to wren she needs it <3

[julesthequirky]

The Choice: Chapter Thirteen

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy/Ben.

Warnings: Female masturbation, female fantasy, language, typical Soldier Boy behaviour, cheesy euphemisms.

W/C: 1,596

A/N: I can only apologise for how long it took me to get this chapter out. I don't really have any excuses, except for the fact that I had a bit of a break, wrote some other ideas knocking around, and then had another break. I wish I could keep a schedule, but they don't work for me. I struggled with this chapter, struggled to push the story forward to get to where it needed to be.

A/N 2: I can't believe it's only day three! As a writer, I, too, forget the concept of time within the story. And it's not until I read past chapters that I realised how slowly time goes by.

The hot water splashed down, and you leaned your head back, getting a face full of the spray.

Was Ben right? Was Dean jealous? Or perhaps he had just been mad. He slept in the next room. A wall was shared, after all. He had to have heard everything. But Dean had no reason to be jealous. He hadn’t shown any inkling that he wanted anything more than platonicness.

Ben knew how you felt about Dean. About Beau. He’d seen all your interactions with the hunter and nearly bitten your head off in Walmart when he found them ‘impersonating’ him. Ben was an enigma. One moment he was flirty and casual, bantering with you, and the next, he was aggressive and damn near violent, threatening anyone that gets on the wrong side of him. And it was him you had fooled around with first. Not Dean. Not that you initially intended to mess around with any of them.

Water ran down your body in rivulets, and your hands followed the flow. Again, Dean, in complete ecstasy, slipped into your mind. Would he grip the shaft tightly? Would he squeeze to feel the intensity of pleasure? Would he stroke his thumb across the slit, rubbing pre-cum across the mushroomy head of his cock?

Below, you throbbed, and again, your mind turned to comparisons. Would Dean be as wide? Would the head of his cock feel so pillowy against your entrance? Would it pulse as strongly? Would he feel as heavy and as thick as Ben?

You shuddered, arousal burning through your body as you tried to wipe those thoughts from your mind. It didn’t feel fair. Dean was his own person. But…Jensen…Jensen was the man who played them all.

Your hand reached for the shower head. It unhooked from the wall attachment, and you changed the head settings. The water sprayed out powerfully in a more concentrated manner.

You gripped the shower head and the shower bar with your other hand. And before you could think yourself out of it, you turned the shower head upside down.

You gasped. A sharp inhale of air. Your hand tightened, gripping the shower bar. The jet of water shooting up from the shower head pelted your clit with intensity.

You bowed your head, hair dripping into the shower floor, pulse spiking as Dean masturbating occupied your mind.

You changed the angle of the shower head, and your knees almost buckled. Your toes curled, and you shook as you fought to contain yourself.

Your pussy clenched.

Your eyes squeezed shut. Dean, touching himself, left your mind, and Ben replaced him. You shook your head, trying to get Dean back. But Ben stayed. And he stood in all his glory, shameless, hand wrapped around his cock and giving lazy strokes, wearing that damn smirk.

Then, his words from yesterday came to mind.

“Would you suck me off as prettily as you suck my fingers?”

And in your mind’s eye, you were on your knees, pleasing Ben, wrapping your lips around his cock. You saw yourself sucking, could feel the weight of him on your tongue, could taste the saltiness of him.

In your mind, you watched as the rapture completely took over Ben. His head leant back, eyes closed, and his fingers fisting your hair. He cursed under his breath as you slowly dragged the man’s soul from him.

Would Dean react the same way? Or would he watch?

Heat swamped your gut at the thought of Dean watching you suck him off. Your body shook, edging closer to that inevitable brink.

You’d please him. Who? All of them.

Ben.

Dean.

Beau.

Beau. With his cheeks tinted pink, and looking at you hungrily sent you hurtling over the edge and crying out, your legs almost buckling from the strength of your orgasm.

The shower head clattered to the floor, continuing to spray upwards. You leant against the steamed-up shower wall.

You hadn’t done that in a while. Not with a showerhead.

*

The TV played in the background. Some football game Ben had put on that Beau was absorbed in. With three men living with you, sports were perpetually on.

After breakfast, Dean excused himself and headed upstairs with a coffee, claiming he needed to decipher the language on the frame’s box, reinforcing the idea that maybe he was mad at you. He’d asked to use your laptop to aid him in his research, and you were compliant, handing him the device and the cable. You had written the password on his hand, desperately trying to ignore the sparks rushing up your arm.

Trying to read with Ben glancing at you occasionally was nigh-on impossible. All you wanted was to relax with a steamy romance between a Rugby player and a sassy fan. At least this one wouldn’t come to life.

Ben nudged you from where he was sitting beside you. You glared at him as he rudely pulled you out of the world where fans have hot instances with insanely built Rugby men.

“What?”

He leaned his head closer.

“If you needed help installing a pipe in your bathroom, you could have come to me.”

What the shit?

You tilted your head in confusion. What the Hell was he going on about?

“You know….”

He kept his voice low so as not to capture Beau’s attention. This was something he wanted to keep between you both.

“I’m just saying you could have come to me.”

You shook your head.

I shake my head and try to get back into my book.

“You need installations in your bathroom? Y’know I’m a dab hand at DIY.” Beau asked, finally turning away from the TV.

“What, no.”

Ben snorted and shook his head.

“Ya hear that, Y/N? Beau is a dab hand at installing pipes in a bathroom.”

Ben’s tone was a little sarcastic for your liking. And whatever he was alluding to, you just weren’t getting. Ben wasn’t one to mince his words, so why was he being so elusive? It didn’t make sense.

You sighed, closing the book you’d barely read anything of.  You placed it down and stood up.

“Ben, could I see you in the kitchen, please?”

You saw Beau’s quirk of his eyebrows in your peripheral vision as you started walking out of the living room.

 Ben followed you into the kitchen. He closed the door behind him, a smirk on his face. You stood there, leaning on one hip, arms folded against your chest.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but it’s gotta stop.”

Ben’s smirk grew wider as he stepped closer.

“Aw, c’mon. I’m only messing. Besides, maybe next time you have a solo flick fest in the bathroom, you should remember that some ears are far more acute than others.”

You stood stock still. Shit. He’d heard everything. That’s why he was teasing the Hell outta you.

“So, c’mon, what prompted this solo session?”

Your cheeks burned. Could you tell him? Probably should. He was only gonna bug you otherwise.

“It was what you said about Dean…”

He grinned wickedly.

“Doll, if a man beating his meat has you wetter than the Pacific Ocean, then baby, I don’t mind doing a little corn shucking just for you.”

You blushed. You actually blushed. Maybe it was the cheesy euphemisms, but Hell, they made you redder than a tomato.

“You gunna listen to him?”

You scratched the back of your neck, unsure. Honestly, you didn’t know what you were gonna do. The thing was, Dean wasn’t the only one concerned. Beau was, too. That meant that Beau thought the same as Dean. Or similar. Beau had mentioned intentions, and it was such a dad thing to say.

“Because, if you did, it’d be real shitty of you.”

Fuck. This was all you needed. Ben would hold a grudge. You knew that. But Dean. Dean had your heart. It was stupid. And yeah, you wanted to make him happy. But the real question was: what would make you happy? And that you didn’t know.

Sighing and easing yourself in a seat, you rested your head in your hands. Your phone buzzed. You slipped the gadget from your pocket. Your brow furrowed upon seeing a message. It was from your mother. Wondering what she wanted, you clicked it open.

Mom: Dear Y/N, Mark mentioned to your father and me that he saw you in Walmart with a man. He thinks it's your boyfriend. Is he? Why haven’t you said anything to me? I’m your mother. Your father and I insist on your presence at dinner tonight, 7:30 PM. Don’t be late. Dinner will be at 8. Your father said texting you was more likely to get your attention. He also said to bring your man. Sincerely, Mom.

Fuuuuuuuuck. You didn’t need this right now. You groaned, letting the phone clatter to the table.

Fucking Hell.

“She can fuck off.” You muttered.

Ben snorted, taking a seat beside you.

“Problem?”

Yeah. At this moment in time, you had too many problems. You were not bringing Ben around your mother and her partner. However, it made you smile at the thought of her clutching her pearls when Ben cussed like a sailor as he spoke with his mouth full. Then it faltered. Ben, behaving as he does, would double down her efforts to get you with Cole. No. It would be best to pick someone else. But who? And would Ben understand? Probably not.

You faced him.

“Yeah. My mother’s invited me to dinner and wants to bring my so-called boyfriend.”

Tags: @yvonneeeee, @curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelican, @k-slla, @deans-spinster-witch, @ashdoctor, @eretsupremacy89, @fanfic-n-tabulous, @deans-number-one-fan, @afro-hispwriter, @tiredstrangerr, @zemosdarling228, @justjensenandhisalteregos, @ladysparkles78, @nescavaneck, @winharry, @stellasfictionalworld, @mishkatelwarriorgoddess, @freefallthoughts, @realityshifter111, @slvtforhotchner, @hobby27, @grxyveins, @emily-roberts, @jamerlynn, @mimaria420, @kr804573, @just-levyy, @leigh70, @eexphoria

If for some reason you aren't tagged, or I've missed you as I went through to update my tags, lemme know. And A, we'll grumble about Tumblr together, or B, I'll chide myself and update the tagsheet.

[feizon]

SOMETHINGS NEVER CHANGE

warnings: blood + suggestive - !nfsw

summary: you had gotten used to your ex boyfriend's antics, the way he would pop out of nowhere and shower you with love just for him disappear from your grasp moments after. This time though, he was in a state you couldn't simply ignore.

note: fem!reader x kaneki ken / not proofread

I barely see kaneki smut so here you go <3

Last October was the last time you saw him, it would almost worry you if it was anything new. You could wait for months, weeks if you cared the slightest, not a text or a letter, heck not even an e-mail just to notify you about his whereabouts.

The cycle became sickingly repetitive. He would disappear without a trace or a single word uttered, would swoop in from nowhere and tell you the sweetest little lies right next to your ear that you fall for each time. Like a forbidden lullaby that lulls you to sleep, to enter a world of dreams that will never be reality.

It was far past noon as the stars twinkled in the sky, a pretty canvas hidden behind your thick, heavy curtains hanging by your bedroom window. You were in the confinement of your bed, sheets wrinkled and your blanket resting just under you shoulder, both hands being placed on the side you faced. You had just ended a typical late shift which slowly began to mess with your sleeping schedule, sleep deprivation knocking restlessly at your door every night. It was the main reason why you were up, a warm glass of milk proving to be useless at your awake.

Before you could even try to enter the world of slumber, you hear the sliding of your bedroom window accompanied by a loud thud as well as faint sounds of labored breathing. You paided no mind to it at first, assuming it was one of the many sleep paralysis demons that came to stir up your thoughts and fears once in a while. But that thought was somehow thrown out the window as the strong sent of blood filled your nostrils.

Your eyes shoot open as you jolted out of the blankets. Mentally cursing yourself for not making sure your window was locked before your went to bed. You stand upright as you try to follow the scent, those pants from earlier getting louder yet softer as you walked cautiously. The closer you got, the more your eyebrows seemed to furrow in disgust but what you saw after was something you could never prepare for.

"...Kaneki?"

Your eyes take note of white hair and a black mask with human like teeth adorned on it. The said man laid on his back, arms draped over his eyes and stomach as small puddle of blood formed near his torso, light from the open window emitting a gentle glow. He lowers his arm, titling his head to look up at you who was still standing on two feet. His eyes look hazy and extremely clouded, as if he was trying his best to stay conscious.

"...Y/N? Ha, Amusing. I came here purely on muscle memory, Arg-!!"

He groans at his attempt to sit up, cause a large spike of pain through his system. He still succeeded, one knee propped up as the other laid flat, an arm dangling from one knee and the other keepinghim upright. He looks down at his lap as you still stand there frozen, all the words you wish to say suddenly stuck in your throat.

"Why are you here."

You ask firmly, all this earns is a soft chuckle from his end.

"It's cute when you try to sound angry, Y/N."

"I'm serious. And why are you bleeding-"

He finally looks up at you as he senses very sutle hints of worry in your tone, he almost sighs in relief at the discovery.

"I was being chased down. They managed to pierce right through my torso but I managed to kill him and flee in time, before his subordinates could come and find me."

"So you so you chose to seek refuge in my home?"

"Subconsciously, yes."

You clench your fist as an attempt to hide your rising anger, venom coursing through your veins as all you could do was sigh.

"How unfortunate that you survived, it would of lifted a burden from my shoulders if you did."

He stays silent, very much aware of the rocky relationship you two had. Former lovers that split due to him being a live bounty, aching to be knocked off many people's hit list. He was a ghoul, a high ranked one in fact. He kills to survive and all the horrible little details in between. He originally left to protect you, from him and the many other disastrous consequences that followed. But like they say, old habits die hard.

He couldn't stay away from you for to long, his body ached just to get some sort of contact with you, your body on his, sexually or not. He loved you dearly, but he knew you wouldn't believe him, not after how selfish he has been lately and he dreads it so so much.

You noticed he spaced out for a bit which made you feel the faintest bit of guilt. You would be lying if you said you resented him entirely, Mostly would be a better word to describe the feeling. You let out a heavy sigh as you distance yourself from him, walking into your bathroom to fetch the mini first aid kit to hopefully stop his wound from staining your wooden floors. As you re-enter your bedroom you noticed that he hasn't moved an inch, the slow rising and falling of his chest acting as the only indicator that he was still alive. Your eyes dot to the puddle causing your face to drop slightly.

'Isn't he able to heal instantly? How bad of a fight did he get himself into...'

The wrapping of bandages slowly turned to the lingering of touches. Your thumb was gliding over is bloodied, bottom lip. Palm resting on his check as he instinctively nuzzled closer to the source of warmth, tears cascading down his cheek. Because of where his wound was, he had to take his shirt off which was currently equivalent to a bloodied rug. One of your knees were placed between his legs as the other was on his side. He was crying for a bit, nothing but murmured apologizes and words of your name falling off his lips.

Occasional sniffles coming from his end as you just stared back with nothing but an impassive expression, but behind your facade you were just as vulnerable. You heart swelled as you saw nothing but sincerity in his words.

"I love yo- hiccup, more than anything."

"..."

"Please."

You somehow felt guilty now, all he's pleas started to make you rather hot and bothered. You bite you lip as you trail your bloodied thumb down to his chin, your breath hitching as your thoughts seem to get darker and darker, lustful even.

"Show me."

You manage to say with a very soft voice, barely louder than whisper. He's eyes focus on yours, brain torn in two to try and interpret your words, to make sure he got the right hidden message.

As if to encourage him, you straddle his legs properly, slow with your movements just to test the waters. As if mimicking your movements, he slowly places his his hands on your waist, squeezing the soft flesh with his eyes heavily focused on you and your reactions. You shudder at this and sink down on his clothed crotch, palm of your hands now placed on both sides of his neck. You move your hips in a circle which erupts a soft groan from him that made your head spin, his hold now moving to your hips to assist with your ideas.

"Mmm just like that, love."

The vulnerable state Kaneki was in was long gone, his mind clouded with nothing but the warmth of you engulfing him whole. You were riding him, actually he was making you ride him as he moved your hips for you, suckling your neck and nipples while leaving open mouthed kisses that made you shudder. He was happy you were still as tight as he remembered, assuring him that you haven't been entertaining anyone else during his absence. I mean he wouldn't blame you if you did, you were no longer his to claim but the thought just made his blood boil.

The lewd sounds of body exchanged was all that filled the air other than your pretty moans of his name, telling him how good he felt inside you. You mouth was agape as tears hung on your eyelashes, mind almost going blank as his pace increased. Hickeys covered your thighs and neck as you managed to leave a few on his neck as well. Bloody kisses could be seen on your perky nipples and lips, the metallic taste foreign to your taste buds but you couldn't help but to lick your lips.

He stares at you with lust and adoration as you whined after each thrust, like you always did when you took him. He let's out an airy chuckle as you begin to push him towards your chest.

"Somethings never change, huh."

@feizon

[daemon-is-perfectly-unhinged]

HTTYD List of Dragons that I’ve compiled including some of the most important, the freakiest, and generally ones I loved the most. And plenty of them that I believe Rhaegar would geek out about in a Viserys-Lego-Years-Long style.

@syndrossi I hope you enjoy the read.

I figured to start out with the main dragons we meet in the first film as well as the ones we follow the most in the series since the main characters are their riders. These are the ones that have the most personality as well since we spend so much time with them, but almost always see personality in every dragon we meet in the show. The fun thing about these dragons is that not one of them have a whole ‘monster’ vibe ‘we gotta kill it’ no, there’s a reason why they act this way, sometimes they’re hungry, they’re searching for something, it’s about survival, but overall, the majority on this list are intelligent but wild animals. Some can be trainable, some can’t be, and that’s fine.

Dragons in this universe have a type of Class. I’ve never delved fully into it but from my recent research I’ve seen:

Stoker Class - mainly fire types, although a majority of all dragons have fire-breathing these are the main direct fire ones that rely on it the most.

Boulder Class - heavy, tough scales, mainly shoot lava type fire and eat rocks.

Sharp Class - contain some sharp anatomy body-types or sharp extremities, like spikes or horns.

Strike Class - very fast, very agile, amazing accuracy.

Tidal Class - water dwellers

Tracker Class - a new class in the show, it can be given to other dragons from other classes, it’s in the name, they’re able to track almost anything from miles away.

Fear Class - stealth, sneaky, terrifying.

Mystery Class - generally where dragons are placed when there isn’t much known about them or they’re very rare. It isn’t unusual for dragons to show up in Mystery Class only to be placed in a Class they fit in better after getting to learn their abilities and traits.

Now, onto the dragons! Dragons in this universe are ‘trainable’ in the sense that with enough time and trust, a dragon can technically be bonded to any human. This does not apply to all dragons of course and not to all humans, as a human needs to be as open as the dragon to form a bond. A rider is also not limited to their dragon and vice-versa. While they don’t typically switch around, there have been moments when main characters ride other dragons momentarily or their dragons are ridden by other people (again, rarely.)

Their diet is also mainly fish-related and raw. Although it depends on the dragon, some prefer chicken or goats, even fruits. And as we know, Boulder class enjoy rocks.

Night Fury

The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. The only one we ever really meet is Toothless. He is the fastest of the other dragons, a Strike Class and his flame is typically referred to as Plasma Blasts. Quick and powerful projectiles that land heavy damage to their enemies. Night Furies also tend to dive-bomb in a fight, using speed as their weapon and they have echolocation! They have retractable teeth and amazing accuracy, Hiccup himself says that Toothless “never misses”. They also have great acute senses, in the first movie, Toothless was able to hear his rider screaming all the way across the village in a hidden cove. This also showed how loyal Night Furies are as Toothless clawed his way out of that cove to get to Hiccup (something he tried before but couldn’t achieve before their bond was formed). They’re also intelligent creatures, when Hiccup spares his life upon their first meeting and decides to let him go, Toothless could have just killed him but recognizing mercy, let him go as well.

Deadly Nadder

Nadders are very beautiful and they know this. They enjoy pruning and keeping themselves clean. Nadders are in the Tracker Class (used to belong to the Sharp Class). They have folded spikes on their tails that they can extend and shoot like projectiles at enemies. Nadders are similar to birds or chickens in their walking stance, they have a blind spot right below their jaw but be careful! They have excellent hearing. They enjoy hunting in packs. Nadders are also very loyal to their riders, putting themselves in harms way to keep them safe.

Gronkle

A Boulder Class dragon, Gronkles love to eat rocks and shoot molten lava (and lava rocks) as their main fire power. They have thick heavy scales and a tail made for offense. They’re not the fastest with their small wings and they prefer to be on the ground (thats where you find rocks!) In the show, our main Gronkle, Meatlug, was fed a particular combination of rocks that led to her molten lava coming out and forming a type of light but incredibly tough metal. (Think of it as their version of Valyrian steel.) Sociable and like packs.

Monstrous Nightmare

These can be a bit of a show off, they like to think they’re the toughest of the tough in their Stoker Class. Perhaps that’s because they can light themselves on fire! Yep, Nightmares’ scales produce this flammable gel that they can activate to light on command. Hookfang, our resident Nightmare, doesn’t get to do it as often because it would burn his rider.

But since Jon and Rhaegar don't burn it wouldn't be much of a problem, although I doubt they'd like going into battle naked. OTOH, Daemon next to a flaming Caraxes is a new-level of terrifying.

Hideous Zippelback

Our only main Mystery Class dragon, oh! And did I mention he has TWO heads? Meet Barf and Belch, one head (on the left) breathes a green awful gas while the other has a sparking-type flame that sets the gas ablaze. After a while, dragons tend to mimic their riders personalities more often than usual, so when their riders, a pair of twins called Ruffnut and Tuffnut, start bickering or fighting, it’s not long before Barf and Belch start literally butting heads with each other.

Zippelbacks are also notoriously loyal to those that help or save them. When Hiccup and Toothless save them from a rock avalanche, the dragon sticks to the pair, in debt to them until it was repaid.

I particularly love how each head has a specific function and it isn't just random or basic like fire and ice (IYKYK). They're part of a cohesive system and work together, they need each other.

all these previous dragons mentioned are easily trainable and sociable with both dragons and humans after the effort is put in.

bonus: Hiccup reading the Book of Dragons for the first time, we see a bunch of different dragons here for the first time! This is where we get to see the different types of dragons as well, and we do eventually meet all of them throughout the large franchise.

Time for more dragons! The following are dragons we get to see in the show, a few more recurring than most. The show does have a usual dragon-of-the-week format but not always. And it always depends on the situation but regardless we always add more to the dragon lore.

Whispering Death:

Boulder Class dragon that prefers to be underneath the earth than flying above it, uses its thousands of teeth to drill into the very earth.

Very lamprey-esque that still fills me with nightmares.

Have poor eyesight and a terrifying roar.

Hold grudges against dragons and humans.

Not the best fliers as they prefer to be on land.

They don't often travel in packs but they can, although it isn't brought up much.

not trainable.

Screaming Death

He’s just a lil guy.

An albino giant Whispering Death called the Screaming Death in the show. It's said that a Screaming Death only comes to be every one hundred years. This one is a recurring obstacle in season 2 for the gang of dragon riders.

The Screaming Death we meet is a thousand times more ferocious than any previous Whispering Deaths’s we’ve seen before. He’s also barely a year old.

More than that, he was taken from his mother which is the cause of most of his behavior until he reunites with her in a season finale where he had been an ongoing obstacle for the the mains.

untrainable— DON'T EVEN TRY IT

Boneknapper

What a name.

A Mystery Class dragon that, because of its weak scales, uses the bones of dead dragons to protect itself.

Very stubborn, it will go far and wide for years on end to find the perfect fit for his armor, even risking its life in the process.

Has a deafening roar that can send Vikings ten feet away from him. He's incredibly stealthy and able to sneak up on anyone.

We meet this dragon in a special short film.

trainable after some effort and offering something he wants.

The Scauldron

A Tidal Class dragon, meaning he's a water dweller.

The Scauldron shoots boiling hot water at its enemies.

Typical loners, and like most water dwellers they can't go long when stuck on land.

That’s how we meet Scauldy, a Scauldron that is stuck on land and the riders wish to rescue. He forms a bond with Ruffnut thanks to her fish-scented hair.

trainable, but rare and under the right circumstances.

Timberjack

A Sharp Class dragon that we actually don't get to meet in the main series but rather the sequel series set in the future (it's eh)

Timberjacks have sharp wings that can cut through entire forests (and enemies).

They closely resemble Monstrous Nightmares in a way.

Loyal to their riders regardless of anything, these aren't dragons to mess with.

Trainable

Usually solitary.

Extra extra: EVEN MORE dragons for Rhaegar to go crazy over.

Terrible Terror

So, in the books, Toothless was just a small common Garden dragon that got his name from the fact that his teeth just hadn't come in (and then when he got one, he lost it in a fight to an adult dragon).

When the writers began planning for the movies, they knew they wanted Hiccup to have a dragon big enough to ride, thus the size and species changed.

And so the Terrible Terror was born as an homage to the original Toothless.

Terrors are the size of a large cat or an iguana, they purr like cats and are part of the Stoker Class, so they are fire breathers.

But what they lack in size they make up for by attacking in large packs.

Terrors ended up being something of a comic relief from time to time. Although Hiccup did begin to train them to deliver messages, inventing 'Terror Mail'.

trainable

Thunderdrum

One of the few Tidal Class dragons able to breath fire although they don't use it often, their main method of attack is actually a strong concussive sound that can kill a human in close range.

They can dwell easily on either land or water, and they can expel the oxygen from their body to flaten their bodies to be able to glide across the surface and easily catch their prey.

They can be reclusive but enjoy travelling in pods.

Thunderdrums are also hard of hearing, making them the only dragons known to be immune to the Deathsong dragon.

trainable but they are stubborn and a challenge.

Changewing

This Mystery Class dragon is able to camaflouge using its chamaleon-like scales to blend into their surroundings.

Instead of fire, they shoot hot, corrosive acid that burn rocks and wood (as well as humans). They're also incredibly fast and stealthy.

One alone is a threat but can be taken down, thus why they hunt in packs. But they're large enough to defend themselves too.

Their packs also follow a typical lion pride style, as their females are the hunters.

Aggressive to humans and other dragons, they're also not opposed to eat both.

not trainable

Night Terrors

Not exactly cousins to Terrible Terrors although they do receive their name from them.

These nocturnal Stoker Class bat-like dragons opperate best as a team.

They unite in masses to form a large shape as their main defense to scare off predators, typically following their Alpha (a slightly larger sized and white scaled Night Terror.)

We meet them in the beginning of Race to the Edge, the riders claim an empty island of their own and come across these little guys. By taking away the leader, the rest scramble and run, not able to function together as a group. They get along well and name the Alpha Night Terror, Smidvarg.

Since it's their island too, they come to an agreement and the Night Terrors act as sentries or sentinels for the island.

trainable.

Armorwing

Not unlike the Boneknapper, this Mystery Class dragon uses metals to protect their scaleless bodies.

Their bodies are also somewhat magnetic, any metal coming into direct contact stays there until they can properly forge it.

Speaking of forging, when they do melt metal onto their body, their fire is unsually bright and one of the hottest seen.

I wouldn't be surprised if they were to be reclassified as a Stoker Class, even their shape is very Monstrous Nightmare-like.

Some actually have a preference for specific metals. It could range from iron, bronze, silver, or even gold.

Smothering Smokebreath

They get their name from the fact that they can't breathe fire but rather exhale extreme thick plumes of black smoke.

These guys are not inherintly aggressive at all, they actually prefer to avoid fights.

They're always in packs due to their small size, only slightly bigger than Night Terrors. Together, their joint smoke breath appears like a natural fog bank, keeping them hidden and safe from predators.

Their reputation has been quite supernatural for years, thanks to their smoke, no one has ever gotten a good look at what they look like, making them larger than life and spreading scary tales.

They're also little thieves that like shiny things, typically stealing anything metal to keep in their caves.

not trainable, they don't like to leave their home, although i wouldn't 100% rule it out.

Speed Stinger

Okay, I know, they look like velociraptors from Jurassic Park, bear with me.

For decades they were believed to be a rumor or legend.

The ultimate of the Strike Class, they don't have wings but are the fastest dragons on land that you'll ever meet. And I hope you never do.

They're scavengers and hunters, always in packs and never alone, using their poison tipped tails to paralyze any victims they claim.

Incredible aggressive and not an easily susceptible threat.

They typically get to places by running across glaciers and frozen bodies of water, but over time other packs have evolved and even developed webbing to be able to run across water.

They aren't trainable but it's not impossible, the riders once found an injured adolescent Stinger, nursed him back to health and managed to train him for months before sending him back to his pack.

This was a specific circumstances case, so I would still call them untrainable.

Deathsong

The Deathsong is one of new dragons we get to meet and name along the way.

Very beautiful on the outside, resembling a butterfly to attract prey from afar but that's not all it can do. Coming from its name, the Deathsong's most potent form of attack is its siren song.

Able to attract and disoritent humans and dragons alike.

Once prey has arrived, the Deathsong is able to shoot out an orange hot type of lava at its victims that hardens instantly like amber.

This way it keeps its victims on standby before consuming them, dragon and human alike.

Aggressive and solitary.

Not trainable as an adult, but we did see the riders train one since he was a hatchling, forming a bond that lasted even years after being in the wild.

Foreverwing

The only dragon we don't get to see in the movies or the shows but I included him since he was just so interesting.

He's one of the Titan dragons due to his colossal size and has thick foliage and trees that grow on his back.

Foreverwings sleep for a long time, typically on mountains so their backs grow larger and denser, becoming homes for all matter of creatures, dragons and animals alike, able to live in peace and harmony amongst each other.

It also spews copious amounts of lava able to take down entire villages.

More dragons:

Dramillion - this dragon is capable of mimicing fire blasts of other dragons

Snow Wraith - a cold dwelling dragon, entirely white with red eyes, solitary and impossible to find

Catastrophic Quaken - her mouth opens in a split way that makes it terrifying. also can curl into itself like an armadillo and smashing themself against enemies or large rocks

Typhoomerang - A new species of dragon that the gang encounters. Their first dragon that isn't in the Book of Dragons actually, so they get to name the species and spend time with a hatchling for a while. These Dragons leave scorch marks on the ground not unlike a typhoon sigil and tend to come back down the same way, like a boomerang.

And there are so, so, so many more.

[kittenfangirl20]

Superhero/Supervillain Au

Adam was known as the Commander among heroes and villains.

He was on top of his game and could take down any villain that came out of the wood works.

All but one.

The Devil, a particularly evil villain could give Adam a run for his money because they were evenly matched in strength and intelligence.

Adam wasn't sure what the Devil's endgame was, but he would find out and bring him to justice.

Sera: Commander.

Adam: Yes?

Sera: It's him again. There's word on the street that The Devil is going to strike tonight.

Adam: Perfect, I'll stop him.

*Adam smirked at put on his helmet with horns on to go and fight the Devil, Adam didn’t look like the typical superhero with black leather pants, a black leather jacket with gold spikes on the shoulders, black combat boots with gold spikes on it, a dark blue shirt with a stylized A on it, a choker with gold spikes on it, and black gloves that looked like they had claws as well as gold spikes on the knuckles*

Adam: You are going to be my backup Lute.

Lute: Yes sir, Commander.

*Lute was his second in command on the battlefield, though he didn’t really know Lute’s real name, he still trusted her, she wore black and silver armor, she also kept her head covered, they went to where the Devil would be spotted, Adam had to admit that the Devil was quite attractive, he was talking to the small group of villains he led with his daughter called the Hazbins, Adam summoned some wings from his powers, along with super strength, he had the ability to shoot blasts of light and things like weapons or wings made of gold light, the Devil smiled when he saw Adam*

The Devil: My darling Commander, our dance continues.

*ever since they started fighting the Devil would flirt with Adam, the Devil was a shapeshifter and he went into want people called a demon form and they fought*

The Devil: Maybe this will be the day we get married.

Adam: What is your fucking problem, we are never going to get married.

*what neither of them knew was that a new villain about to make his debut, as Adam was fighting the Devil something grabbed his ankle and was pulling him towards the ground, Adam looked down and saw a man dressed in all red with deer antlers and radio dials for eyes*

Adam: Is that creepy fuck one your Hazbins?

The Devil: No.

*as Adam struggled, the shadow slammed him into the wall and it broke half of the mask on his helmet, the new villain attacked everything around him causing Lute to flee, but Adam passed out as as he fell, but he was caught by the Devil who saw half of his face no longer covered by a mask*

The Devil internally: He is very beautiful.

*the Devil and the Hazbins left while the Devil was holding Adam, at the hero headquarters Lute limped into the building and Sera ran to her*

Sera: Where is the Commander.

Lute: He is dead, a new supervillain killed him.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[44-mr-midnight-44]

Now at Three - 1,589 words

Quaking legs shifted and slid frantically on the floor; spun in a tizzy, feet scrabbling at the ground like a baby deer caught in hungry jaws.

Eyes slammed shut, pouring with tears rinsing his dry cheeks with cascading salt.

Hands scraped and grabbed at his face; angsty vocalisations spilling from wrathful lips.

He was panicking.

How typical.

Cyrus writhed and shrieked as a trembling mound on the floor; his mouth cooling and aching with the rapid inflate and deflate of his lungs.

Adrenaline roared up his body; nerves trickling with damp stress as anxiety washed through every small artery in his body,

Untrimmed nails scraped the undersides of his ear, his knuckles then crashing into the wall with a hateful whistle.

He was undying.

Forever alive.

A sudden, skinny pain formed in his scalp; gliding down the top of his head to his collar, to his sternum, to his waist, his knees, and to his toes.

He shouted; hunched over as this panic attack went from routine to anomalous.

Unbrushed teeth locked and grinded between each other; a shrill grunt as he firmly wiped his eyes.

He was fine.

No I’m not.

Nothing unusual happened.

Isn’t that true?

Everything in threes.

What of it?

His back arched as his elbows met the floor; his socked feet spread as his knees buckled under the narrow pain in his body.

Clumsy fingers wobbled towards a rectangular weight in his pocket; grasping the object as he raced to spread its body into view.

His teeth ground further as his he reached to tap the contacts app— which presented more as a faded point— and he collapsed, moments before he could touch the photo of his mother.

You’re failing now.

Bother to hesitate?

Unbecome a oneself.

Don’t hesitate. Don’t.

Split into three.

Split into three.

Cyrus wheezed, a dry hack clattering off his parched lips.

The pain resumed its lightning path through his scalp to his soles.

What’s two times three? Six.

(Split into three.)

Split into three.

Split into three.

(Split into three.)

[Split into three.]

Split into three.

(Split into three.)

[Split into three.]

{Split. Into. Three.}

Two halves of his body at once had begun to peel, both sides melting into an almost watery consistency.

The centre remained; as it shed its two parts, the pain spiked. Almost a shower of flaming needles, grasping his body and pulling it like bad bread.

The residual forms sloughed off his body, shooting off from oppositional directions. Cyrus watched the forms surface; uncurl, position themselves into a stance, before looking around; almost cautious, almost concerned; before matching his gaze, eyes popped open wide.

What am I doing?

(My legs are over there. Not over here.)

Long shoulder blades coated in a plush length of down fell from the one on the right.

His feet were encased in a layer of what looked to be keratin; an absence of toes, the form appearing almost like hooves blown into the shape of heels.

(I need to be. Over there.)

Why am I here?

(He tried to march back to his body, )but his leg kicked absentmindedly instead.

Cold. I feel cold.

[His mouth sputtered, a vacant breath posing no sign of voice breaking out.]

Why can’t I talk?

[His lips pinched and morphed, attempting to trace words with his tongue that of which would not comply.]

“(Say.)”

“Say.”

What’s happening to me?

Syrus raised his hand, fingers trembling as he fought against an invisible force to lift the appendage.

He and himself watched with wide eyes, before their palms repeated the notion.

“(What are you doing?)”

“[S… Sp…]”

Syrus’ eyes enlargened in horror.

His body was in-front of him; moulded into two doppelgangers.

They needed back. They needed back inside of him. They were unattached; surely he would not survive with both halves of his body missing.

“Get…” Syrous whispered, a cold monotonousness to his tone.

“(I’m.)”

“[Sm…]”

Syrous grumbled, pulling at the air as if he were retrieving the end of a rope.

He and himself stumbled forward; their feet awkwardly touching the ground, bodies sliding over in inexperienced strokes.

“Get…”

“(I’m…)”

“Get…”

“(I’m s…)”

“{GET…}”

They stopped.

The room fell silent; and suddenly, everyone came to their senses.

The two halves fixed their gaze on the one they spawned out of; their Host.

Two parasites. Unnatural beasts. The ashes of dissolved consciousness.

“(Wh…)” The winged one spoke, its head cocked. “(Who am I?)”

“[S…]” The second one struggled; it appears as if it wasn’t designed to speak, or at least it was more of an error than its sibling.

“{I…}” He breathed, the words rustling from his quivering lips. “{I can’t… I don’t…}”

The two beings searched the room curiously. Their bodily movements seemed nigh infantile; beginners to the human body, if they could so be called that.

They seemed impressed by little things; walls singed from the high amount of concentration their eyes pressed onto them, squirming fingers as they appeared amazed by their own hands, idle fascination from every little bit of decor or utility inside of the room, panned around by the stumbling legs of new life.

Soul idly watched their first adventure, before lifting his fist to his mouth and clearing his throat.

Somehow, they appeared to understand what this gesture meant.

“{You two… Aren’t supposed to exist.}” Soul spoke, stern.

“[W…]”

“(I understand. How can we fix that?)”

{How can we fix that?}

{Go back where you’re supposed to be!}

{How hurt must I be to form life from my own misery?}

{No one is happy with this.}

“{We… I don’t know. Become one? If… if that’s even possible anymore.}”

“[N… Th…]”

“(I’m very confused.)”

Soul’s look contorted from a wince of ire to an attentive curiosity.

“{What are you confused about?}”

“(This is… strange. I don’t remember you, I don’t remember anything. But I know you. And I know everything.)” The entity blinked. “(I know that we are apart of you. I am the burn of your emotions, he is the shock of your logic. I am the black of the Moon, he is the white of the Sun. I am your Heart, and he is your Mind.)”

“{...What else do you know?}” Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction was his drug.

“(I understand every word you are saying… but when I try to think about what they mean, my cage draws a blank. I understand the existence of many things; I know religion, I know philosophy, I understand that there are oceans, and mountains, and what humans are, and what plants, and animals, and bacteria… I know there were many great humans before us, many horrible humans, too, and I know I do not know the humans that will come next. Everything is so bizarre to me. Why do I know? Where did this mysterious knowledge come from? Perhaps from you? But I don’t know anything about you. I just know that you are lying in misery, and my brother and myself are a product of it.)”

“{This… this can’t be real.}” Soul said, his voice light with the ghost it was spoken with. “{The other one wasn’t… I don’t understand. I’ve… I’ve really broken myself this much, haven’t I…? I’m… I’m really past saving. All that money spent on therapy… All that money spent on college… All that money spent on support… Money spent on indulgence… And yet, I am truly beyond help.}”

“(Don’t cry,)” The spectre spoke, gently, approaching Soul. “(You are not beyond help. I’m… I’m sure this can be salvaged.)”

Soul bounded behind, a thick snarl lashing from his lips. He almost swiped Heart away with force, his hand of ire colliding with only air.

“{You are not going to help me. You are the result of my brain’s destruction.}”

“[M…]” Mind approached, sympathetic eyes worn in his gaze. He attempted to extend a hand to offer what he knew of consolation, only to produce a scream, responded by him jerking his appendage back.

“{Oh good gold, what’s wrong with your hand?}” Soul shrieked, once again launching himself back. “{A- Are you a robot? A machine? Truly, surely that’s not what’s become of me…}”

The two small souls watched their Host’s body huff and quake, hardly managing to stand upright.

Guilt drenched their bodies, as they hung their heads and spilled with remorse.

The two backed, and embraced one another’s hands.

“{You’re… You’re holding hands…}” His eyes bore tears. “{You both have humanity, You… creatures, have something in you. Something beyond destruction.}”

“[Y…]” Mind choked, gasping with air rather than utilising it.

“{You’re more than just beasts of consciousness,}” Soul sighed, hugging his face. “{I can’t let anyone see you, either of you. You’re certainly both abominations, composed of remnants of one, greater abomination. But… this… this can be fixed.

“{We can become one, can’t we? Fuse into one being… Fixed what ‘{can’t}’ be fixed.}” Soul stared at the two, before speaking just one more time. “{...I can be healed. I can be fixed. But… I can’t let a soul see either one of you two. You will remain here, in my apartment, for absolutely until you are apart of me once more, and only then, in my vessel, will you be exposed to the rest of the world. But, and I repeat, neither one of you two may ever be exposed to the rest of this world beyond my apartment door.}”

The objective was understood.

The truth would be untold.

The unbecoming of consciousness.

The Heart, the Mind, and the Soul.

Notes + Boundaries:

♡ Three is good, four is bad.

☾ It's implied but not explicitly stated, this is not within a mindscape. Heart and Mind are separate, functioning, physical manifestations brought into existence via Cyrus/Soul's mental deterioration.

♡ This is apart of a greater AU known as Lost at Sea, and technically also one of my five bajillion crossover AUs known as By the Bay.

☾ Please do not compare this to DID/OSDD. It's not because of a specific vendetta against DID/OSDD (you can move on with your day happy knowing you did not just read a fic from a sanist 😉) but rather because people who hurt me really liked that headcanon and now it makes me uncomfortable.

♡ I don't get a lot of attention on my writing, even if I put a lot of effort, and that really saddens me. Please reblog whenever you can, likes don't do much at all and they don't make me feel good. Reblogging (especially with your input) means the world to me.

[frogs00]

hiii can i request a janis x regressed fem reader. nothing specific, just fluffy cuteness hehe. thank you:3 <3

Apple Juice

Summary: Janis worries when reader doesn't show up at school, only to find her girlfriend is perfectly fine, and little.

Warnings: Fluff, age regression

Pairings: Janis + Reader

Y/n didn’t show up at school today, which wasn’t typical considering she was an excellent student. Janis knew you wouldn’t miss it for no reason and it made her worried, she texted you a few times but you hadn’t responded— up until now.

The text was a string of incoherent letters and emojis but she could make out a few words. She bit her lip in thought scanning the message over again, concluding you were regressed, she knew you tended to regress when stressed or overwhelmed, really a lot of factors went into it, and she was more than happy to help.

Also, from the looks of it, you were in a good mood… Maybe? Considering the happy emojis used, it wasn’t unlikely but also looks could be deceiving- and was that a frowny face?

Janis quickly shook her head, she was reading too much into things. She’d check on you later, and you’d be okay.

She hoped so.

Due to the worry for her girlfriend, she was very antsy in class. Art was her last period of the day, which she was usually happy with, but right now she just wanted to get out of here.

“Girl, tell that leg of yours to calm down, you’re shaking the table.” Damian spoke, shooting her a playful glare, “I’m trying to sketch. The Mona Lisa didn't happen on a shaky table.”

“And it also wasn’t created by a seventeen-year-old, gay man in the twenty-first century with a knack for annoying me.” Janis retorted, making Damian recoil.

“Rude, but okay.” he studied her, “Girl, what’s got you so worked up?” he asked, concern bubbling in his voice.

“Sorry, sorry. I just want to see y/n.” Janis bit her lip and sighed, worried for her precious girlfriend.

“Darling, she’s fine,” Damian patted her hand gently, then retracted his, “She probably just needed a day off, you know that girl overworks herself. Worst-case scenario she’s sick, but she would’ve told you if she was so calm down.”

No, you wouldn’t have been able to tell her since you were regressed, or at least she thought so. Still, she also knew you weren’t sick. Janis would’ve been able to tell the day before. So maybe she did have nothing to worry about. She nodded “Yeah, you’re right.”

She shrugged and decided to sketch you out a little picture. She knew you’d enjoy it.

_

You were startled by a knock on the door. Blinking rapidly, you internally debated whether or not to open it, you didn’t want to open the door for a stranger, and you knew that wasn’t good, so you just continued coloring in the Paw Patrol coloring book. You turned up the music playing through your headphones, trying to ignore it.

Only a minute later you heard the knock again, louder this time, and your irritation spiked. You got up and threw the marker down, muting the music, and walked towards the door.

“Baby, it’s Janis!” You heard from behind it, your irritation instantly faded and you smiled cheekily, fumbling with the lock and opening the door.

“Jan!” you practically tossed yourself on her, wrapping your arms around her waist then looking up at her, “Hi~”

She laughed, pulling back to get a look at you, her worried brown eyes scanning you, “Hey, sweetie,” You were still in your pajamas and had maker smugged on your face, the sight made her heart melt, “You weren’t at school today, I was worried.”

“I text you, though,” you pouted, not understanding her worry.

Janis chuckled and nodded, “Yes you did! Good job,” she patted your head tenderly, “Can come in?” you nodded eagerly.

“I draw, you wanna?” you asked, guiding her to the coffee table you were sitting at.

“Sure, honey.” she agreed, sitting down next to you criss-cross, and picking up a green marker, coloring in a tree idly. You drew like that in silence for a while, and then she turned to look at your focused face again, “Are you okay?” She was beyond curious to what might’ve caused this regression.

“Yes. Okay.” You nodded absentmindedly. She squinted at you, nose scrunching up for a second, then she relaxed.

“Good,” she looked down at your color page and tapped it with her pointer finger, “This is pretty neato if you ask me.” she grinned and ruffled your hair.

You giggled, “Neato.” You repeated, dragging the world out. She found your amusement endearing.

She set down the marker and nodded, “Yep, want to snuggle and watch TV?” you let out a small ask and nodded eagerly.

“Bluey?”

“Sure, sweetie. Bluey it is.” she stood slowly, gathering up the supplies and putting them away. She knew your parents would get irritated if they were left out, and probably be a little suspicious.

When she returned, you were already curled up comfortably on the couch, clicking the remote till you found what you wanted. She plopped down next to you with a dramatic sigh and you turned your head slightly to look at her and she grinned mischievously.

Suddenly, she scooped you up, and you giggled as she prepared your face with kisses, “Noo, it tickles!” you pushed her face away, and she pouted.

“No kisses?”

“Uh-uh,’ You shook your head, then laid your head on her shoulder, eyes fixated on the screen. You lay like that for a while, Jnais liked this show herself, she wouldn’t admit that out loud but she did, so it was more than tolerable. Especially since she got to spend time with you. She really did like taking care of you or simply just spending time with you when you were in this state, it made her feel almost special the fact you trusted her.

After a while, your voice broke the silence, “Can I have apple juice?” she couldn’t help but smile softly.

“Mhm, I know how my baby loves her apple juice,” she chuckled, “Snack too?” she asked knowingly, sliding you off her lap.

“Yes, pwease!” you gave her a cheeky grin that melted her heart and frankly made her want to squeeze you to death from pure cuteness. She got up to grab you a juice box, herself a glass of water since she was frankly thirsty too, and some goldfish in a bowl.

You were sitting rather politely at the coffee table once again, still staring at the characters dancing across the screen. She set them down, and you hummed out your thanks and drank and snacked. You were suddenly quiet again, but this silence was less peaceful, you seemed tense.

“What’s the matter, little one?” she asked softly, scooting forward to stroke your head.

“I dunno,” you shrugged, picking at your nails, “Mommy and Papa are yelling a lot, I don’t like it,” you mumbled, and her heart clenched, sympathizing deeply.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” she whispered, you perked up at that.

“It’s not?” you sounded unsure.

“Nope, not one bit,” she tapped your nose and your smile reappeared, she loved that smile. She loved seeing your joy. Gosh, you made her such a softy.

After you finished the snacks, she put everything away. You two moved to your bedroom in case your dad came home early, and watched videos on Janis’s phone. She could tell by the way you were rubbing your eyes and the occasional yawn that you were getting tired.

“You wanna sleep, sweetheart?” she asked softly, clicking off your phone.

“Mhm, stay?” you asked, curling up more snuggly against her side.

“Of course, baby.” She smiled, kissing your forehead, watching you fall into some much-needed rest, quick to join you. She was right not to worry, but she knew she would again, after all, she loved you too much not to.

A/N: Low-key got bored, and got a bunch of writing done, expect more fics soon, maybe even another today. Enjoy my first Agere fic, though!

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Keeping Vigil

The little clinic on Pabu isn’t much, but you won’t leave it until he wakes.

Pairing: Tech x gn!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: kinda sad, kinda angsty, but also a little comforting, Tech is unconscious, reader is in love but our nerd has been oblivious, mentions of death/thinking someone had died, references to canon typical violence, ends on a hopeful note

A/N: this idea has been rattling through my brain for a while, and I refuse to believe he’s gone, so…. #TechLives

The small private room in Pabu’s only clinic exuded an air of tranquillity. Sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains, casting a gentle, dappled pattern on the white walls. A warm breeze carried with it the sweet scent of exotic flowers and sea salt, filling the room with a sense of calm that seemed to soothe even the most restless souls.

Curled in a small chair, your eyes were fixed on the swaying palm trees visible through the open window. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing on the nearby shore provided a comforting backdrop for your thoughts.

Hand resting on your chest, where your heartbeat drummed steadily, the faint hum of the nearby bacta tank was the only interruption in the otherwise quiet room, and it reminded you of the fragility of your existence.

Four weeks ago, you’d finally stormed Mount Tantiss.

Eight weeks ago, he’d enacted Plan 99.

Casting your gaze to the horizontal tank, you take in his prone form, following the jut of his nose, the curve of his lips, and down across his chin. Bones had been reset, bruises fading, and cuts stitched up, but you had no idea what the lasting damage would be. And you wouldn’t until he woke.

You hadn’t anticipated finding him, not after Hemlock had so callously thrown you his shattered goggles and declared it was all they could ‘salvage.’

Turns out Hemlock had been lying.

You’d never been more grateful for your terrible sense of direction. One wrong turn as you’d been searching for Omega and Crosshair had led you into a room full of bacta tanks, each housing a clone, but one had not been like the others…

You’d called for backup, Howzer and his men finding you a few minutes later. As a team, you’d drained the tank and pulled him free. A hasty job had been done to stabilise and get him to the waiting ships. But it had been enough.

The rest of the rescue had been a success – the Empire hadn’t anticipated a well-connected network of highly skilled clones to storm the place. All the clones taken had been saved and transported away in a small fleet of ships. Hemlock had met his end from one of Crosshair’s perfect shots, and once everyone had been clear, Wrecker had blown the place to smithereens. But not before you’d grabbed every scrap of information available from the place. The small pile of data spikes you’d handed over to the fledgling rebellion would hopefully help.

“The sun is out today. The storm I told you about the other day has finally cleared.” You spoke a little louder than usual. The doctor had suggested he might be able to hear you, and that thought is partly what kept you tied to the room – to the chair. You didn’t want him to be alone, to risk him waking with no one by his side.

That and you needed the reminder that he was still here. That the memory of him shooting the rail track and plummeting thousands of feet wasn’t the end. Loving him from a distance for years had been hard, but believing that you’d never gotten the chance to tell him had been devastating.

“I kind of miss it. The storm reminded me of Kamino.” You continued, letting out a soft sigh. Your fingers crept upwards, wrapping around his broken goggles. You’d carefully removed the glass and slipped them around your neck after Omega had been taken, and they’d rested there ever since.

“Remember that terrible storm, the one that knocked out the power when you were trying to fit my bracelet?” You reminisced, tearing your eyes away long enough to look at the band of silver around your wrist, which had been locked into place with one of his many screwdrivers. It had been a gift from them all six months after you’d joined as their handler. A comms unit and tracker had been embedded, and a small ‘99’ engraved into the metal.

“None of the torches were charged, so we’d had to borrow the one from Crosshair’s rifle. I can still remember the look on his face when Wrecker had reached for it.” You chuckled at the memory. Things had been so much simpler then.

A bird squawked outside, a reminder of how life was continuing on beyond the four walls of the clinic. The boys had come to see you and him a few times. Omega usually swung by after school with her homework, and you’d help her finish it. They brought you food and news from the rest of the island, and they’d leave with the same sad look on their faces – sympathy painting their matching brown eyes. They weren’t blind and had known for some time that your feelings for their brother went far beyond friendship.

Phee had visited once, too, having finally put the pieces together. She’d vowed to back off, to not tread on your toes, and while you’d appreciated it, you couldn’t help but feel bad. He wasn’t yours – he didn’t know how you felt. Who were you to say who could or couldn’t pursue him?

“I’m glad I found you. I thought for a while I’d truly lost you.” You confess, forcing volume into your voice even as it cracks a little. “As much as I despise Hemlock, I’m glad he found you, that he saved your life.”

“If I ever come across Saw Guerra, though, it’s on sight…” There was no point concealing your anger. The blame for Tech’s fall lay solely at Saw’s feet, and that man was fortunate you weren’t already on the warpath.

Silence lingers again, the breeze outside picking up a little, making the curtains rustle. “I’ve been trying to fix your helmet, too.” You state, turning to look at the mess of equipment on a small side table. “I found it in a million pieces in one of the labs on Tantiss. I think they were trying to access your files on the Republic. They just didn’t account for how smart you are.” A smile crosses your lips as you shift in the seat, reaching out like you had done hundreds of times over the last four weeks to press your hand to the tank glass. You loved that exceptional mind of his, how he solved complex calculations on the fly and picked up new skills and information in an instant. It was incredibly attractive.

“With how many pieces it’s still in, I don’t think I’ve accounted for how smart you are either.” You chuckle before taking a deep breath. “Maker, I miss you, T.” You whisper, slipping into the small nickname you’d given him shortly after joining the squad.

The silence over the last four weeks in the clinic had given you plenty of time to think. You weren’t sure when he woke if you’d share your feelings openly, but you certainly wouldn’t conceal your affection so much anymore.

“I miss your voice and your info-dumping.” You add. “But you’re going to get better, and you’re going to wake up.” You try to look at the bright side.

You took another deep breath, embracing a sense of hope that lingered in the air. With a tender smile, you felt the weight of the last few weeks finally lifting off your shoulders. “When you wake, I’ll be here, ready to help you, to share every moment, and every bit of affection that I’ve kept buried for so long. The quiet, safe life we’ve all yearned for is just around the corner. You, me, and your siblings, all back together again.”

Lost in the darkness, Tech’s mind had desperately clung to your voice over the last few weeks. And this time, as he listened, his fingers finally twitched.

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

More actual writing for Death Seeking Creator

Warnings for the typical death this au has, and how their mentality first breaks into what this creator is named for.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. This wasn't apart of her plan.

Nahida only wanted the one who gave teyvat life to be safe, to not live in fear over being accused of being a fake hunted down. She never intended for this.

"Please! If you'll just listen to me, we can help you!" She pleaded, her hair sticking to her face as the rain pelted down. She could only watch as the creator took a further step back, almost slipping off the cliff they clinged onto for dear life. Wanderer was supposed to help, but every step he took only caused the divine to screech and yell in fear, demanding him to stay away.

She knew they would be afraid, the very heart of teyvat had warned her. But she didn't understand it had come to this, to the point the creator was risking their own safety and life to stay away from who they thought were hunters. They yelled louder, their voice barely drowned out from the rain. Wanderer had taken another step forward, clearly growing impatient at the situation.

Then, almost like a realization had taken place, the creator let go. Nahida could only watch in horror as she witness the divine plummet hundreds of thousands of feet below, with Wanderer racing to try and save them. She stood frozen in place, her entire form suddenly overtaken with fear. This wasn't a feeling she was used to, the sudden spike in her heartbeat, the way her knuckles turn white as she gripped the fabric covering her heart.

The rain suddenly stopped as the large sound of a crack was heard. Her eyes welled with tears as she hears Wanderer call out to her, begging for help. She fell to her knees as the world around became fuzzy and dark, her breathing rapid as her heart shattered.

The creator had chosen death.

~

A scream could be heard as the divine suddenly sits up, clutching their head as the vivid memory of pain began to overtake their vision. Their breathing was rapid before it slowly calmed as the memory subsided.

They look around, viewing the ice crystals fall around them softly. They immediately knew where they ended up, Dragonspine. Home to temperatures no mere mortal could withstand, yet at this moment they felt fine. They turned their head, noticing a seele that kept them warm, making small noises in cheer as it watched them.

Usually they would be confused, if this hadn't been the fifteenth time they ended up at this mountain after dying. At this point they grew too used to the creatures that found them being happy and content around them.

Standing up, they dusted the snow off of their clothes. The same ones they wore when they first arrived into this magical world, or magical hell as they would describe it. Inhaling the crisp cool air, they slowly made their way, not truly caring what path they took.

But then they stopped, the seele bumping into their back as it followed, realizing something. They had chosen to die last time, they weren't killed by anyone. It was different.

This caused them to ponder for a bit, wondering what their purpose is if every result ended up in death. Truly there was some higher being that gave them some role? There had to be some reason as to why they were here. But before they xould question more, the piercing sound of an arrow rushed past their ear. They flinched and turned around, fear overtaking their senses as they met eyes with familiar ones.

"Don't move! You are hereby being taken into custody by the Knights of Favonius!" The brunette yelled, nocking another arrow in place to shoot.

They stood frozen, the sounds around them becoming fuzzy. Before suddenly without realizing, they took off in a hurry. The brunette yelled, releasing arrow after arrow, each one barely hitting their mark. She chases after them, gritting her teeth as the cold winds blew in her face.

They ran and ran, taking every turn they remembered to try and reach any safety they could hope to have. But soon they fell to the ground, pain exploding through their back as they screamed from the claymore slicing into their flesh. They begged and pleaded to not be killed, babbling incoherently as the pain overided their cognitive thinking. A foot harshly presses into their wound, causing them to scream in pain as more pleads fell from their lips.

But the women refused to hear their pleas, instead only receiving her heels digging deeper. They cried as she positions her blade against their neck, her words harsh as she speaks.

"The only purpose you have for defiling the creator's visage is to die."

They pause at her words, their thoughts swirling as they recounted each death they've been through. All because they look like this? Is that their purpose? They barely had time to think it over before the flesh of their neck was sliced open, tearing their head off in one clean slice.

~

Gasping for air, the soul sits up. They barely paid attention to the underwater environment around them as they screamed into the open waters. Once their throat no longer allowed them to use their voice they slumped into the sand below, pondering once more over the woman's words.

Was their purpose...really to die? It almost made then laugh, what cruel creator gave them such a role? Someone who must be sick in the head, or bored and wishing for entertainment by seeking it from their demise. Why else would they be resurrected every time? Perhaps...their deaths weren't entertaining enough. Maybe...if they die in the most entertaining way, they'll finally go home.

It was a stupid idea, but it was the only thing to cling onto as they stood up and looked out into the oceans of Fontaine. A crazed look glossed over their eyes.

If they want an entertaining death, the creator is much to oblige.