#slight tension

[k-4-ni]

‼️Poll winner #2 ‼️

summary: your lieutenant is aggressively nurturing you back to health.

[ Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f!reader ] SFW

"What were you thinking?" Simon hissed, his voice scrambled and muffled from behind the midst layer of his mask, Nonetheless, you could still sense that tinge of irritation as if he wanted to knock some sense into you with his fist.

His gloved hands toiled to bandage the wound on your arm, leaving a slim trail of goose bumps on your skin, you hated it, loathed the way he made you feel, you weren't supposed to feel anything around your lieutenant, yet again... Who can't?

"Are you some kind of suicidal? Throwing yourself in front of the bullet like that.." He kept his lingering gaze on your expression as if piercing through your soul, his eyes roamed your features, the way your lips tightened into a small frown, the way your cheeks flushed with a deep red hue out of humiliation.

You dared not to look up, an overwhelming sensation of embarrassment and regret filling your thoughts, how could you jump in front of a bullet like that? Were you really that desperate to save a life?

"I'm sorry, sir... Didn't want any of my comrades getting shot."

You murmured, a tight scowl curling your lips as you lowered your gaze, fixating it on the ground instead and the way your boots glisten against the light, hoping to ignore and bottle up the small voice at the back of your head.

You slightly winced, flinching at his harsh comment and his aggressive fingers, you could feel the heat and anger radiating off of him, his words bitter and harsh.

With a low, irritated sigh, Ghost peeled off his gloved hands from her bandage to gaze her down with those dark, brooding eyes of his. He yearned to say something better but it was as if he fought to restrain himself for an unknown reason. Rather, he leaned back, taking a knee on the ground next to her, eyes still latched on her.

"What were you doing over there?" the lieutenant questioned with an inkling of nuisance and sincerity in his voice.

His voice rang through your ears, you kicked your feet together, nails digging into the leather of the medical cot.

Where you going to tell him? Did he deserve to know? Sure, he's your lieutenant but he sure wasn't your therapist, Save yourself the embarrassment and stay quiet, he probably doesn't even care.

"I—Im afraid I cant tell you..."

You choked out, Your eyes fluttering ever so slightly as you felt a lump of nerves forming in your throat, Denying your lieutenants orders? Rookie mistake.

The lieutenant narrowed his dark blue eyes, his head cocked to the side as he studied her. His gloved hand lifted to his chin as his lips curled into a frown, a hoarse groan erupting from his throat.

"Soldier, are you refusing my orders?" the lieutenant questioned, the tone in his voice stirring slightly.

In that moment, that skin-crawling moment, things seemed to slow. It felt as if this moment dragged on while Ghost shelved for your response.

"N-No, sir, of course not!"

Your eyes grew wide with uneasiness, your lip quake as you shook your head.

"I-Its just—... It's the captain's orders... He told me not to tell anyone what happened before I got shot."

An amused, low chuckle was heard spewing from Ghost. Practically in a way, it even sounded…flirtatious..? Perhaps that was just your imagination. Regardless of what it was, it still caused all sorts of emotions to flare across your body.

"Well, captain isn't here so what happened, soldier." Ghost repeated, a slight edge to his voice as he spoke.

Shit.shit.shit.shit.shit

"Sir... I'm afraid I can't— it's captain's orders he would penalize me if he found out."

You peered up at him with virtually pleading eyes, eyes flickering with disquiet as your pupil swallowed your iris, your eyes glinting with an uneasy shimmer.

Please don't ask, please don't ask, please don't ask.

Ghost's gloved hand reached out and held her chin, tilting her head up to face him. His gloved thumb rubbed against her jawline. The lieutenant's features were mostly covered but from this position, she was able to see more of his face. From her position, she saw the euphoric side of his face.

He came off to stare into her eyes in silence, his thumb still looming over her chin, his bleak eyes taking in her appearance.

"What happened." He said, practically a command than a question.

You hung back, a long moment, a long moment lingered with silence between us, your ears rang as your breath hitched in your throat, was this real? You were probably just hallucinating.

Your eyes softened, your eyebrows furrowed and your lips curled into a tight frown, your fingers dug into the leather material of the medical cot, a thick lump forming in your throat as you swallowed harshly.

This was really happening, your lips parted slightly and your cheeks burnt with a tingling sensation.

"He—... He scolded me about some skills I lacked in, at that moment I felt—... Like I wasn't enough so I just wanted to prove him wrong."

Fuck. Now that you blurted it out it does sound quite... Reckless.

Ghost took notice as you shared your side of the story. Your lieutenant was quiet for a beat, his eyes flickering around her, watching over her face, her eyes, her lips. His gloved hand slid down from her chin, to the bed. He placed his hand on her thigh, gripping it firmly.

"So you ran ahead of your commander, into enemy fire, to prove yourself?" he questioned, his manner of voice implying scepticism as he spoke.

Your eyes flickered between his hand, your breath catching in your throat as his fingers firmly grasped your thigh, your ears perked up as you lifted your gaze into his hollow eyes.

His eyes were piercing into your soul, almost intoxicating nevertheless a sense of danger flushed over you, your body telling you to run yet your throbbing pulse was telling you to stay.

"I-I didn't know what else to do... It— it seemed like the perfect opportunity to prove him wrong."

He leaned forward, his gloved hand lifting to cup her jaw. He gazed down at her, his eyes seeming to pierce into her core as he spoke. The lieutenant's expression was stern, his eyes ostensibly taking in every segment across her face.

"You should never try to prove yourself by running into danger. Not in this line of work," Ghost let out, with the edge of pest in his tone varying to concern.

"I-Isnt that what I signed up for, sir?"

Your lips parted once more and your chest tightened, your breath coming in erratic and broken, you thickly swallowed down the butterflies that threatened to twist and churn your guts, as if they were clawing their way up to your throat.

The lieutenant sighed and leaned back into his seat. "You did sign up for it, yes but that doesn't mean you run into danger just to prove yourself," he said, the frown on his face softening as he spoke.

The lieutenant reached out and his gloved hand caressed her cheek, "You proved how stubborn you are, soldier, but next time..."

His eyes flickered down to his hand placed on her cheek. "Next time, remember that you're putting yourself, your life, not a mission — your life at risk."

You were dazed, just a simple touch from his hand sent your knees weak and your mind blank, you mindlessly nodded to his words, your fingers clenching by your sides.

The lump in your throat would not stop developing, your eyebrows raised ever so slightly as you nodded once more, your eyes still peering up at him as you batted your lashes.

Your lips parted, your chest trembling with each struggled breath.

"O—Okay... Y-Yes sir..."

Ghost stayed silent for a moment. His thumb brushed against her upper lip, feeling her soft lips. His eyes seemed to go blank for a moment, the lieutenant's mind going into overdrive. In the moment, he wanted to kiss her. His lips parted, the urge to do it slowly grew, causing all sorts of emotions to swell inside his body. And yet....he couldn't.

Something... unexpected happened to the lieutenant. His gaze flicked down again to her lips... Her soft, inviting... lips. He almost forgot he was supposed to be lecturing her. With the soldier underneath him, her body beneath his arm, he was close... very close to just... losing control.

Ghost's gloaming eyes took in her appearance once more, his looks flicking up to hers. His gloved hand slid back down to her thigh, holding on. Ghost took a deep breath and leaned forward, his lips mere inches away from hers.

The lieutenant cleared his throat, his eyes snapping back to reality. He placed both his hands on his knees.

"We better head back," he said with a slight shake of his head.

What the fuck.

[insane-control-room]

rinse and repeat

His job was a grisly one- find the works of the avatars, document them, and then undo them. Then prevent them. Most of the avatars did not like him constantly 'destroying' their work. Most. Not all of them.

rated: T warnings: described death. AU: TMA Length: 1,500 words (short-medium) notes: i don't know much about TMA, but im having a fun time with friends talking about aus so :3

gift fic for @halfusek ft. magenda (as i unaffectionately call this one)

ao3 link here

The pervasive smell in the room clued him off before anything else. It was the sense of dread worsening that immediately followed, an apprehension that made his stomach knot. A flashlight was beaming towards his feet, red slick appearing at the edges of the fallen beam.

Johan did not want to turn on the light, though he could see the words superimposed on the wall above the small switch, a demand rather than a thought. Steeling himself, he flicked it on, filling the room with an unsteady, buzzing light. 

Immediately, regret- no, not regret, some other sad emotion- filled him. 

The filing room had a desk with three chairs in the center- or usually situated in the center, as they had been moved aside for a ladder that now took stage center left. A few papers were scattered about, ruffling Johan mildly. However, his job was not a pleasant one, and sometimes included observing mis-managed paperwork, and… other, worse things. Such as the corpse - his true purpose for entering the room. He noted the body, at true stage center, was perhaps two or three hours old. 

It was a gruesome death. 

Suffocation, electrocution, and decapitation all played their roles. 

It was hard to tell which had killed him, though Johan snapped on a pair of gloves, and set himself to documenting the gritty scene. 

A ladder. 

A box of tools. 

Electrician’s gear taken out. 

It seemed like Bert- the man had taken upon himself to fix a faulty wire. Johan followed the trail to the circuit board and fuse box, and broke past the paneling to see the back of the fuses. 

A group of four were miswired. The dead man had turned off the wrong one, without even knowing it. 

It made Johan frown and sigh. How pointless. 

He returned to the ladder, climbing upwards. Several wires were already dangling loosely, and Johan narrowed his eyes as he attempted to determine the sequence of events.

One of the wires hummed quietly.

Johan traced its path, noting the bloodied loop at one ridge. That would be the decapitation, potentially if the man had fallen forward. Pulling out a tape measure, he checked the likely trajectory. Unfortunately, it lined up. Which meant that indeed, the decapitation had happened last. 

A pity. 

It would have been the fastest death. 

Johan nudged the ladder. It was sturdy. He looked along the wire, along the corpse. 

The bruising by the neck was no longer severe, as it all had been, well, cut, but from what he could see, there had been significant pressure upon it. If Johan were to piece together the order of events (which was exactly what he was doing at the moment), he would have said as follows.

Bertrum turned off the fuse box, unaware that what he was turning off had nothing to do with the task he had taken upon himself. As the light switch was off, and the flashlight lay dimming, Johan decided that the man had not bothered to check the lights when he entered the room, setting down supplies. Had he paused to ensure that the fuse was off, he may have survived. 

Doubtful.

Some other unfortunate happenstance would have occurred, perhaps more grisly than this. 

Regardless. Continuing reconstruction. 

Bertrum had then climbed up the ladder, and began working on rewiring the faulty electrical system. A significant burn on his hand, searing through to his flesh, explained the rest. While he was removing the old wire, he had gotten entangled, and as he had tried to pull it off, his hand brushed an unexposed part of the live wire. Then, with his body stiffening to the current, he must have lost his balance.

Severing his throat on the wire. 

Johan was meticulous in his documentation. If he was not, he may miss something in the next run that would result in another failure. Or he might get himself… quite hurt. Usually the latter always left him snapping awake in his threadbare bed, gasping for breath and with a dull painful sensation in his chest, ready to try again. However, that was an outcome he tried to avoid. 

Speaking of things that one tried to avoid….

Johan heard him before he saw him, the slightly off rhythm gait giving him away. Glancing around the room with a sigh, he acknowledged that:

Magenta had some connection to the death;

OR

Magenta was drawn towards it, like a fly to rotting flesh.

It may have been both. 

He said nothing as the other lanky man entered the room, smiling. 

Magenta surveyed the scene calmly, suppressing a shiver of delight. He said nothing to Johan, who was marking which of the wires were live. Johan rolled his eyes, and went back to examining the bad wire to determine where its true source really was to make sure that when he corrected this misconstrued blip, he did it properly - once. Magenta watched him work with a smile blandly painted over his face.

Eventually, Johan pulled out a chair, on the opposite side of the table from the corpse, and sat in it heavily, another sigh fighting to escape him. Magenta watched keenly, though his eyes were half open. Johan moved back a second chair, silently expectant, and Magenta sat in it. 

“This one is fun, isn't it?” Magenta commented lightly, a smile still on his face. Johan shrugged glumly, staring at the paperwork before him instead of the body just beyond the desk. Unique, certainly; saddening, yes. Not quite so ‘fun’ for him, especially when one considered what his job entailed.  “Don’t look so down, Jo!”

“Kinda hard not to when there’s a dead body in f-front of me,” Johan retorted, brow furrowing and mouth twitching downwards. Magenta shrugged, smiling still. “And when it’s so….”

“Purposeful?” Magenta questioned, teeth glinting in his smile. Johan stared at him, not enjoying the shudder of upset that he tried to hide. Magenta noticed it anyway. “Well, maybe that’s not the right word. Artistic might be a better one.” 

“Right,” Johan mumbled. It surely was an artistic death. “Maybe the creator might have done well to warn me. Content warnings or w-whatever.” 

Here Magenta frowned. 

Johan looked away, abashed. 

“S-sorry. That was unkind of me. I’m on edge.” 

“Sure,” Magenta rolled his eyes, leaning back. Johan stood, picking up the clipboard, making some final measurements and documentations. “Don’t forget the dead fuse.”

Johan tilted his head as he looked at him. Magenta raised an eyebrow, a silent dare to check him. Johan saw no need to do so- as he would be able to check when he would do his… ‘cleanup’. Not to mention, despite the man’s goals, Johan trusted Magenta. Which may have been the fault of memories not his own.

The older man matched the tilt of his head, humorous.

“What?” he asked, a slight grin at the edges of his mouth. Johan’s lips parted to say something, and then closed. Magenta’s smile broadened cheekily, eyes flashing. “Oh, dear. Be more careful, Jo! We wouldn’t want…” Magenta glanced at Bertrum’s mutilated, burned corpse, fighting his smile from growing wider. “An accident.” 

“Why d-did you tell me about it?” Johan asked, faced with a troubled emotion that he locked up and decided that he would not think about or confront. Magenta’s smile remained unchanging. “Mag….”

The other man stood up, still evenly looking at Johan.

“You’re smart, Jo,” the avatar of The End chided, tapping the end of Johan’s nose. “Think about it.”

“The resetting, I kn-know,” Johan replied, pursing his lips. He knew why Magenta was much more tranquil and compliant around him than the other essences of fears, who generally disliked watching Johan undo their work time after time. Not Magenta, though. Magenta was quite happy with the fact that he was able to expand on his medium repeatedly thanks to Johan’s role. “But why warn me a-about the fuse not working? You know what h-happens to me if… an ‘accident’ does occur.” 

Magenta shrugged, smile still on his face. 

“Thought it might make your day a bit better,” Magenta brightly replied. Johan looked away, face warming. “I’m sure that whatever weird process renews you is no party.” 

“It’s… it’s definitely not, no,” Johan agreed, feeling pain creeping along his spine. He exhaled, softening, managing a small smile on his stressed visage. “So… I thank you.”

“It’s nothing, Jo,” Magenta’s own relaxed smile was dazzling, toothy and bright; yet sharklike. It made a trickle of fluster bloom in Johan’s chest, worsened by his next words. “I’m sure you’ll figure out a nicer way to thank me, don’t you think?” 

Johan did not reply, looking away, face heating considerably. Magenta laughed a little, a chuckle, and Johan’s blushing intensified. A hand brushed his cheek as Magenta sauntered out of the room. 

Johan watched him leave, words he could not describe resting on his tongue, unsure if he should go after the man, properly ‘thank’ him.

Instead, Johan checked his paperwork, inhaled, and reset.

[raepliica]

one of these nights

[escyn]

Old Wounds Reopened[flood]: Kyoshi Warrior Sokka | Blue Spirit

Zukka Week Day 3 (id in alt)

+some close-ups bc I love them so

other things from ZW2024: Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

[wulfhalls]

they just hit every beat so perfectly. she's so bratty and knowingly pushing all his buttons and he's failing so hard at not being endearingly indulgent even thru the sarcasm

[aventurineswife]

Running in the Shadows

Summary: Caught in a chase under the moonlit sky, you believe you can outrun Moze, the elusive Shadow Guard of the Yaoqing. But Moze quickly catches up, only to surprise you.

Tags: Moze x Reader(can be read as platonically) Chase scene, Hurt/Comfort, Protector, Slow Burn, Tension, Fluff with Angst, Emotional Vulnerability, Barefoot Running.

Warnings: Mentions of panic and fear during the chase, Slight physical restraint, Mild emotional tension.

Feel free to send in your requests!

Original Idea

The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow on the deserted streets of the city. You sprinted down the narrow alleyways, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you glanced back over your shoulder. The sound of footsteps echoed ominously behind you, but you believed you could outpace your pursuer. After all, you were nimble and fast, and this was your territory.

You turned sharply, weaving through the shadows, your breath quickening as you picked up speed. However, the footsteps only grew louder, each step punctuating the air with an unsettling promise. Who was chasing you? You didn’t have time to think about it; you needed to escape.

As you rounded another corner, the alley widened, and you felt a rush of hope. Perhaps you could find a place to hide, a chance to lose whoever was behind you. You pushed your legs harder, ignoring the sting of your bare feet against the cold pavement, the gravel digging into your soles. You were almost there—just a few more steps.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed ahead of you, and instinct kicked in. You turned to run the other way, but in an instant, the figure emerged from the darkness—a tall, muscular silhouette with gray hair cascading over one shoulder. You recognized him instantly.

“Moze...” you gasped, feeling a mix of fear and an inexplicable thrill.

He moved with a predatory grace, closing the distance between you with ease. Panic surged through you, and you quickened your pace again, but it was futile. With a swift motion, he reached out and grabbed your waist, effortlessly lifting you off your feet.

“Got you.” he said, his voice low and steady, but there was no malice in his tone—only an unsettling calm.

Before you could react, he lowered you gently onto something soft. Confused, you looked down to find your shoes—waiting for you. The act was so unexpected, so disarming, that you almost forgot about your fear.

“Why were you running?” Moze asked, his violet-blue eyes locking onto yours, a hint of concern flickering beneath his stoic demeanor.

You stammered, “I… I thought you were after me.”

“I was,” he admitted, a faint smirk teasing the corner of his lips. “But not in the way you think.”

His hands remained on your, grounding, you as you tried to catch your breath. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a flicker of something deeper beneath the surface—a connection that transcended the chase.

“Put your shoes on,” he said, his voice softening. “You’ll hurt yourself running around barefoot.”

The warmth of his hands lingered on your skin, and you nodded, slipping your feet into the shoes. The fit offered a sense of security, a reminder that despite the shadows surrounding you, there was someone watching over you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, looking up at him. “I didn’t expect you to… uh help me?”

“Neither did I,” he replied, his expression unreadable. “But you shouldn’t have to run alone.”

In that moment, as the city around you buzzed with the life of the night, the world felt a little less chaotic. Moze, the enigmatic Shadow Guard, had pulled you from the edge of fear, reminding you that sometimes, the shadows held more than just danger; they held unexpected allies.

Just then, a distant siren blared, cutting through the stillness of the night. Moze’s expression hardened, the vulnerability replaced by a shadow of tension.

“We need to move.” he said, suddenly alert.

“Where?” you asked, glancing around nervously.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, his eyes scanning the dark alley as if he could sense something looming just beyond the edge of the shadows. “Anywhere but here.” he replied, a cryptic urgency lacing his tone.

Before you could question him further, he reached for your hand, pulling you toward the darkest recess of the alley. The grip was firm, yet the moment felt surreal, as if the very air around you was thickening with unspoken truths.

As you ran, the weight of uncertainty hung heavily in the air. Just ahead, you spotted a narrow doorway that led to the unknown. With a fleeting glance over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of movement—a flicker of shadows beyond the light.

Just as you reached the door, the echo of hurried footsteps filled the alley behind you—voices, angry and demanding. Moze’s grip tightened, and in one swift motion, he yanked open the door, revealing an inky darkness that swallowed you whole.

“What’s back there?” you asked, your heart racing.

“I don’t know,” Moze replied, glancing back at you, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. “But we don’t have time to find out.”

You hesitated at the threshold, the fear of the unknown clashing with the urgency of the moment. “Moze, wait—”

He turned, his violet-blue eyes piercing through the dark. “Trust me,” he urged, an intensity in his voice that sent a shiver down your spine. “We can’t let them catch us.”

And in that moment, as the door creaked open wider, you were faced with a choice. You could step into the darkness with him, leaving everything behind, or retreat to the light where you might be safe but alone.

As you weighed your options, the footsteps grew louder, and the shadows began to close in around you. The last thing you heard before the door swung shut was Moze’s voice, a whisper that echoed in your mind: “Sometimes, the darkest paths lead to the brightest futures…”

The door slammed shut, and the world around you faded to black, leaving you to wonder what awaited in the unknown and whether you would ever find your way back.

[has-bad-ideas-constantly]

Celestia on her public account ( her personal is reserved for her fandoms, to ego surf, and to be an online pathetic gothic queen)

[ariadne-mouse]

re: Cleo & the Granddaughter - personally I'm only idly interested in the shipping angle at the moment (though the seeds are there and the show can certainly convince me) but what I do find intriguing about it is, whether romance or friendship, there is a fraught future already baked in. The Granddaughter is on a very specific personal journey to become a Mother, to gain incredible amounts of knowledge about the Cosmos in an eyeblink and live a life of detached service; even if there was a possibility of some romance remaining after that (give us the Mothers cultural lore, Third Person-), the Granddaughter would be irrevocably changed as a person. If they do catch feelings for Cleo, they will have to grapple with the choice of leaving that behind upon Realization. Who knows, maybe a friendship/romance and the trials within will be what precipitates Realization itself. Meanwhile Cleo would be in a position to grapple with falling for someone who is essentially marrying a life of service, and watch them change. Or, even more fraught, if the Granddaughter's journey/Realization are compromised by their connection, that is a whole new can of interpersonal consequence worms. So I am very excited by all that.

[tending-the-hearth]

god i'm thinking about how "the stolen chariot" takes place post-"titan's curse" and how that's a turning point for percy and clarisse's relationship, and how clarisse probably saw straight through percy's facade and saw exactly how he was treated during that time at camp and how sad and lonely he probably was because grover was tripping over himself around the hunters and chiron was so focused on thalia and annabeth was gone

and that leads me into thinking about the head counselors again and how maybe, in their own ways, they gave percy little things to show their support. moments of help, little gifts.

silena sitting in the pegasus stables with percy, holding onto his arm and being a big sister presence to him. not talking, just being there for him, giving him some semblence of stability

beckendorf dragging percy off to test new weapons he made in the arena, turning it into a game that had a smile spreading over percy's face for the first time in days

travis and connor sneaking coke and candy into camp for their honorary brother, leaving it in the poseidon cabin with little cards that had the corniest jokes written on them

clarisse spars with percy more, pulling him to the arena when she sees the stormy look in his eyes, when he can't think about anything else but how frustrated he is

lee pulls percy into the medical tent to test his healing abilities with water, because it's been an obsession for the apollo cabin since percy arrived, and he can't help but make percy laugh with his eagerness

castor and pollux convince their father to let up on percy, just a little bit, to let him have a looser curfew, letting him sit out by the lake for as long as he needs, sometimes sitting with him in the quiet

katie leaving little plants in the poseidon cabin, little succulents and flowers that are easy to care for, something small that makes percy's eyes light up every time he gets a new one, and he lines the windows of the cabin with them

malcolm, bless him, is so aware of his sister and percy's crushes on each other, and takes it upon himself to make sure that his sister's best friend doesn't waste away, and he's the one who makes sure percy eats and sleeps and stays healthy.

and clarisse will deny it until the day she dies, but percy knows that she's the one setting everything up. it was her suggestion, though the other counselors know they'll get fried if they say anything.

and he doesn't say anything, not until after "the stolen chariot", when he and clarisse are sitting down for a burger, and he brings it up quietly. and clarisse just huffs and rolls her eyes, and percy's heart warms so much at the fact that, despite the winter being the worst one of his life, he was surrounded by people who loved him and supported him.

(annabeth definitely gives hugs to all the head counselors when malcolm tells her, because they kept her seaweed brain going)

[lavenoon]

The gang's all here! And Lambert. Sorry, Lambert.

@naffeclipse at this point I'm not even drawing predictions, I'm drawing "So I know what's gonna happen is gonna hurt, but what if I make them hurt in a different way?"

[eduobsessed]

so i never watched doctor who bc i literally thought it was a show about a boring (read: cis straight) guy killing aliens and now im watching and well 10 definitely cried himself to sleep holding rose's jacket when he lost her didn't he probably for several days even huh. how fun is it to consume media!

[provincara]

I wish we got to see Lirah and Tesadora meet :/ it'd be so funny tho, like-

Finnikin, Trevanion, and Perri: omg two insanely beautiful women meeting each other, they're going to hate each other this will be so horrible, everyone be on guard

Lirah and Tesadora: *talk about plants*

[subukunojess]

@badthingshappenbingo

Trope/Prompt: Lifted By The Neck

Fandoms: Super Mario Fandom, Mario & Luigi: Dream Team

Main Character: Luigi

Content Warnings: Near chokeholds, near electrocution, romantic tension

Word Count: 609

After centuries of not writing, here is another entry for the Bad Things Happen Bingo. This one (which went through many changes) was inspired by the Luigi and Bowser film scene and saying, "What if this happened in Dream Team and how we thought the context was?" Since I like giants, monster/human relationships, and realizing you have a crush, I used that as the jumping point for the prompt, Lifted By The Neck. By far, this is the shortest and possibly least dark of the entries so far, but I'm glad how natural the scene went while writing it.

Thank you and Please Enjoy~

[kazimakuwabara]

Banter

Summary: Team Urameshi gets into a bit of trouble, and do what they do best. Argue. And while it may look like all the team does is argue, enemies should beware that if they truly try to threaten one of their own... well they'll find out what else Team Urameshi is good at. (2k+, drama, friendship, hurt/comfort)

***

"I would like to get out of the cage, now!"

"We're trying to get to you!"

"Try harder!"

"Kuwabara, Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

Kuwabara kicked his feet against the blackened bars of the cage he was currently huddled in. It was not a very big cage, with only enough room for Kuwabara to sit or lay down. The cage didn't seem very strong either, with its deceptively thin bars, and wide gaps. But since being forced into the damned thing, Kazuma Kuwabara had become sluggish. He can't feel his own Reiki, let alone his friends, engaged in battle several yards away. He also can't sense the strength of the demon, who is lying atop Kuwabara's cage like a stretched out cat, lazily watching Kuwabara's friends fight off his hoard of cronies.

"You all fight so well... are you sure you don't want to come work for me?" the red-skinned demon asked, a forked tail lazily swishing behind him as he watched Hiei cleave someone in half.

"Not interested!" Yusuke snaps. He points a finger at the demon, "You just wait until I get over there, bud! I'm gonna rip your tail off and strangle you with it until your head pops off!"

"My, how exciting!" The demon giggles, flashing a fanged smile. He rolls on his stomach and reached a hand through the bars of the cage, stroking long thin fingers through Kuwabara's mussed hair, "Your friends are so amusing."

"Quit touching me!" Kuwabara yowls, flopping onto his back in an effort to get away from the demon's fingers.

Kuwabara's resistance only seemed to further amuse the demon, who shifted his full attention to the frustrated man. Sticking both arms in the cage, the demon tried to find purchase against Kuwabara's body, the weakened human swatting the searching hands with what must have been the strength of a child against an adult.

"Keep off me, creep show!" Kuwabara yowled, hissing as the demon caught his cheek between his thumb and index finger, giving it a little playful pinch.

"Guys! Can you hurry it up?! This dude's weird!" Kuwabara shouted, squawking as the demon moved from his cheek, to tweak his nose, "Cut it out!"

"Why don't you get your own human?" Hiei calls out as he rips his bloodied sword out of an enemy's stomach, and through another one's throat.

"Yes, that one is ours!" Kurama agrees, voice laced with deep irritation.

"I am not a pet!" Kuwabara shouts out, swearing as his amused captor traces a claw down the shell of his ear.

"Well, you're either our pet or his pet! You better pick one, Kuwabara!" Yusuke snaps, firing a shot-gun blast of energy into the final wave of enemies.

"Yeah, how about, I'm no one's pet? How about, I'm your friend and teammate-How about that!?" Kuwabara shouts kicking his feet against the top of the cage, the demon, still lounging atop his cage, laughing at his efforts.

"Really if I had time to take you all home with me, I would. All of you are so delightful," the red-skinned demon simpered, "But I'm not looking for a group of comedians. It's getting time for me to go."

Rolling off the cage, the demon landed gracefully and silently on the ground. A fresh wave of enemies crowded around Yusuke, Kurama, and Hiei, clearly redoubling their efforts to keep Kuwabara's friends at bay. With his palms pressed against carved-out runes in the cavern wall, the red-skinned demon muttered a series of strange words. He removed his hands as the runes slowly started to light up, and that light began to form what appeared to be a doorway. Smiling over his shoulder, the demon announced, "Well, I'll be going soon. Kuwabara, we have about three minutes before the gateway opens."

"Oh my God, this guy is taking me to his home to be his fucking house cat!" Kuwabara moaned, banging his face repeatedly against the bars in protest.

"Kazuma, don't do that. You're going to hurt your head, and we really might need you at your best!" Kurama called out to him, struggling against three hulking demons who were trying to press him back.

"Bye Kuwabara, it's not been a pleasure. But I did know you," Hiei calls out, grinning with his own amusement.

"This is fucking endless!" Yusuke shouted, not taking part in teasing Kuwabara. A bit of real panic was starting to set in at the sheer number of foes keeping him separated from his best friend.

Kuwabara took a breath to shout something else out at his team when the demon appears in front of the cage in a low squat. Quicker than he had before, his hand reached through the bars of the strange cage and caught Kuwabara by the throat. Kuwabara made a garbled choking sound and glared into the face of the enemy who'd caught him.

"B-Bastard!" Kuwabara eventually managed, defiance burning in his eyes.

"I'm not taking you to be a house cat," the demon purred, his forked tail lazily swishing behind him in steady sweeps. "I'm going to give you a much higher position than that. I'll be adding you my harem."

Kuwabara choked, trying to pull away from the hand that kept a steady grip on his throat, "Your... what?"

The demon's tail swished faster, "My harem. You're quite interesting... such a strong human with incredible spiritual awareness. And what a nice body too..." The demon reached his other hand through the cage and stroked a hand down the back of Kuwabara's head. He tugged affectionately at one of Kuwabara's curls, before his hand slid down his neck, over his collarbone, and down to the front of Kuwabara's shirt.

The demon grinned, and pulled, ripping Kuwabara's shirt away as easy as tissue, a started cry unwitting wringing out Kuwabara's throat. The demon smiled at Kuwabara's momentary outburst of terror, and that same smile only grew as Kuwabara forced his fear down in favor of presenting another hateful glare.

"You're just so cute. Acting like you're an equal with demons... hanging around them like you could ever be one of them," The demon teased, his hand trailing back up to Kuwabara's chest to trace a smattering of scars over his heart, "You are indeed powerful, and while that is admirable, you clearly need to be taught where you fall in the food chain. And since you're awfully strong, and your body is my type, I'll be more than happy enough to teach you. And if you behave, I promise you'll even come to enjoy it."

Gripping Kuwabara's hair hard, he pressed Kuwabara against the bars, Kuwabara struggling with futile effort to pull away. With a curse, Kuwabara's cheek was pressed into the bar of the cage, and the demon drew close, pressing his nose to Kuwabara's chin. He inhaled, long and loud, Kuwabara squirming uncomfortably as the demon took in his scent.

"Stop it!" Kuwabara shouted, hissing and grunting as his face was pressed into the space of the bars, growling as the demon tilted towards him. He kissed Kuwabara's chin, and trailed upwards, laughing a little as Kuwabara drew his own lips into his mouth. Underneath Kuwabara's panic, he became aware that the sounds of his friends battling, had stopped.

"Oh, that's so cute! Refusing to kiss me? Well, you won't have a say-"

The demon is cut off, as Yusuke Urameshi, buries his foot so hard and so far up his ass, that surely his tailbone has been turned to dust, and his asshole is ruptured. The demon is ripped away from the cage and sent flying, his claws leaving bleeding cuts against Kuwabara's neck and chest.

Kuwabara lets out an anxious, and relieved gasp as Kurama, Hiei, and Yusuke stand and take stock over their captured friend. Kuwabara looks back at them, shaken from the struggle he's just endured, and startled by the amount of viscera his comrades are coated with. Something had motivated them to make quick work of their enemies. Kuwabara's tattered state sends a ripple of hate and anger through their eyes, and Yusuke is the first to tear away from the group, shouting after the demon he'd kicked like a soccer ball.

"Hey, you red-assed piece of shit! I'm about to make good on that promise I said about your tail!"

"Kazuma, can you lie flat please?" Kurama asked, voice cold as he withdrew his whip, "I'll have you out of there in a moment."

Kuwabara, uncharacteristically quiet but too weary to force any words, drops flat down in the cage, his hands lacing over his head to protect it. He feels a wind whip over his body, and then hears the sound of the cage falling to pieces around him. He jumps as a hand grabs his arms, and looks up at Hiei, his expression unreadable as he starts to tug Kuwabara up and away from the ruined cage.

Kuwabara is shaky on his feet, adrenaline and fear mixing in an awful crash inside his body, so he does not pull away from Hiei's firm grip. Hiei is steady, firm, and surprisingly gentle, as he pulls Kuwabara from the remains, and guides him to sit down on a nearby rock. Kuwabara breathes a sigh of relief, as distance from the cage, seems to release whatever constraint it had on his Reiki. It's a comfort to have his power return to him.

Hiei looks at Kuwabara, taking in his torn shirt, and the seeping wounds the demon had left behind on him. Uncomfortable, Kuwabara presses the torn fabric against his chest, covering a part of himself up that he had never minded showing before. Kuwabara clears his throat and laughs a weak, "I'm fine."

Hiei's red eyes snap to Kuwabara's face, his expression stony. A line forms by his mouth, and his eyes narrow; a sign that he is clenching his jaw too tight. Hiei says nothing else but turns to where Yusuke is, currently beating the shit out of the red-skinned demon, who howls like a dying beast. Hiei withdraws his sword and disappears with that unmatched speed Kuwabara's spiritual awareness can't always keep track of.

Kurama looks over at where Yusuke and Hiei are handling their enemy, takes a steady breath, and kneels before Kuwabara, giving him his full attention, "Let me help with your wounds, alright?"

"It's not too bad. His claws got me when Urameshi kicked the fucker away!" Kuwabara says, his smile a little more sincere, even if his words wobble.

Kurama places gentle hands on Kuwabara's forearm, "The shirt is ruined... shall we use it for bandages? Will that be okay?"

He pierces Kuwabara with a kind green gaze, ready to do whatever Kuwabara needed.

Kuwabara placed a hand on Kurama's, pressing the hand against his arm. He means to answer, but he can't find them. Instead, he keeps ahold of Kurama's hand, using the fox's touch to ground him.

Kurama smiles understandingly, "We can wait a minute."

Kuwabara nods, and the pair sit in silence, watching as the red-skinned demon faces a terrible thrashing at the hands of Yusuke and Hiei. When a few minutes pass and the demon is howling apologies, and pleading for his torment to stop, Kuwabara lets the unsettled, terrified feeling fall away from him.

Kuwabara smiles at Kurama, "Knew you guys would get to me."

Kurama returns the grin, "Of course! You didn't have any doubts did you?"

Kuwabara rips the rest of his ruined shirt off, and passes it to Kurama, who immediately starts tearing strips for bandages. Kuwabara inhales and lets out one last shaky exhale. He smiles, wide and as bright as the sun, "Ah, maybe a little! But even if he made off with me, I knew you guys would come to get me."

"He wouldn't have gotten that far," Kurama says, seriously. A promise that had another meaning. A callback to a past, when Kuwabara had been taken from their sight. Kurama ties off the first set of bandages around Kuwabara's throat, "Never again will someone drag you off like that, understand?"

Kuwabara nods, swallowing past a bubble of unspoken fear. To shift the atmosphere, he complains, "If he hadn't used that weird cage on me, I woulda kicked his ass!"

"You always have an excuse for your own screw-ups, don't you?" Hiei sniffs, as he rejoins the group. He is bloody, though it is not his. He uses his cloak to clean his hands before pressing the back of his knuckles against Kuwabara's cheek. A silent check-in.

Kuwabara briefly presses his cheek against Hiei's hand, a signal that everything is alright. And then Hiei drops his hand, and Kuwabara lifts his arms so Kurama can wrap his chest, and it is like the moment between Hiei and Kuwabara never happened. The moment will go unspoken of.

"Seriously! I coulda taken him if he hadn't gotten the jump on me! I swear, all the demon bad guys do this to me, cuz they don't want their ass whooped by a human!" Kuwabara huffs, complaining loudly.

Yusuke joins them, dropping the head of the red-skinned demon and his tail, just behind a rock and out of Kuwabara's sight. His eyes are a little feral and glimmer with a speck of golden energy. He scans Kuwabara over and waits for Kurama to be done with the bandages, before he throws himself at Kuwabara, knocking the man flat on his back.

"Goddammit, Urameshi!" Kuwabara snaps, flat on his back with his best friend wrapped around him in a protective strange hold. Yusuke clearly wants to put Kuwabara into a headlock, or even dig an elbow into Kuwabara's ribs, but Yusuke is too aware of Kuwabara's injuries. So instead, Yusuke just drapes himself like a heavy blanket around Kuwabara.

"You idiot," Yusuke grumbles, his voice sulky, and worried, "Are you alright?"

A flat look of irritation crosses Kuwabara's face as he thinks of pointing out that his injuries had just been wrapped up before Yusuke sacked him to the ground. But he lets the irritation pass and drapes an arm around Yusuke's shoulders. Kurama and Hiei lean over the pair, taking up Kuwabara's field of vision, wearing vastly different expressions that somehow mean the same thing.

They were worried about him, and they care about him.

With knowledge of this group's care, Kuwabara will be just fine.

Kuwabara grins for the trio to see, "Yeah, I'm fine. Everything is good."

End

[islenskihesturinn]

I’ve started riding Fjara to help my dad with her tripping (read: he likes to ride with a long loose rein and Fjara ends up tipping forward).

The first two times we were still getting used to one another, she’s still trying to gauge why the heck I’m asking her for turns and to do a few steps backwards and walk sideways a little.

Today I decided to take a different path around the farm and Fjara was particularly high in her energy, so when we turned to go back her back curled a little and her tempo went up…

And I’m sitting on her all impressed at the energy but also please don’t do a happy buck, I’m still getting used to how different you are from my regular horse 😅

[hypnagogics]

will u gworls still read hce if it hypothetically breaks 10k words- (now i ain't there YET but how it's going, i wouldn't put it past it yikes...what can i say i'm a yapper at heart when it comes to excessively using words for the sake of sayin shit)