#so I think he’d be great at working through it to lead the resistance AND raise a kid

[turtleblogatlast]

From your last post of Leo sending Jr into the future.

I wish I could trust someone as much as future Leo trusts Jr.

But good good points all around.

I had always thought of that line as kinda cheesy (no pun intended) and it didn't have a place in the post apocalyptic world. But then again, the whole family didn't belong there either.

Future Leo might have so much blame on him for losing the key int he first place, but he gave his younger self a chance at redemption by sending Jr.

All so that cheesy, out of place Line... could once again belong.

Yeah!! It is a cheesy (haha) line, and I think that in turn speaks volumes on the relationship Future Leo has with Casey Jr too, because it shows that even after so much pain and suffering, he’s still a Leo, trying to lighten things up, trying to soften the blow. It’s a cheesy line but the easiness in which it’s delivered shows me that Leo just has this dynamic with Junior.

He’s the leader of the resistance, the world’s greatest ninja…but he’s also a goof who wants the best for (his) the kid. It’s easy to take a line like that and imagine how Junior’s life went under Leo’s (and everyone else’s) care.

[little-jana]

"Wrong Recipient"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing, some minor tension

Words: 1.2k

Summary: After accidently sending a bikini picture to Spencer, awkwardness leads to confessions.

It was an ordinary evening at home. My phone buzzed on the couch beside me, a simple distraction from the mundane quiet of the night. I was scrolling through old photos, reminiscing about the summer when I’d gone on that impromptu girls’ weekend at the beach. One photo, in particular, caught my eye.

I had almost forgotten about this one. The sunlight had been just perfect that day, painting my skin golden as I stood in front of the crashing waves in a bikini. It wasn’t the type of photo I’d post publicly, but something about it made me feel confident, powerful. I grinned at the memory and decided to send it to my best friend with a teasing caption.

Or at least, I thought I was sending it to her.

I tapped the photo, quickly typed, Still got it, huh?, and hit send.

It wasn’t until my phone buzzed again moments later that I realized my mistake.

Spencer Reid: “Uh… I think you sent this to the wrong person.”

My stomach dropped.

“Oh. My. God.”

My hand flew to cover my mouth as I stared at the message. My heart was pounding so loudly I swore I could hear it in my ears. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

I opened our chat and saw the horrifying truth staring back at me: my photo, sunlit and confident, sent to none other than Dr. Spencer Reid.

I didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or throw my phone out the window. Spencer was my coworker, my friend. Sure, I might have had a tiny crush on him (okay, a huge, impossible-to-ignore crush), but this? This was next-level mortifying.

Before I could figure out how to respond, my phone buzzed again.

Spencer Reid: “It’s a really nice photo. But I don’t think I was the intended recipient?”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. I couldn’t ignore him—Spencer was a genius; he’d know I was avoiding him. But what could I even say?

Be cool, I told myself. Play it off.

I typed back quickly: “Oh my god, Spencer. That was so not meant for you. I’m so sorry!”

The three dots indicating he was typing appeared almost immediately.

Spencer Reid: “It’s okay! Don’t worry about it. Mistakes happen.”

Mistakes happen. Sure. Like accidentally sending a picture of yourself looking like that to the coworker you secretly fantasized about. Totally normal.

The next day at work was pure torture.

Every time I saw Spencer, I felt my face heat up, and I had to resist the urge to dive under my desk. He, on the other hand, was acting almost… strange. He wasn’t avoiding me—far from it. If anything, he was hovering more than usual, lingering by my desk to chat about cases or throwing me quick, flustered glances when he thought I wasn’t looking.

I wasn’t imagining it—something had shifted between us.

“Hey,” he said casually during one of his visits to my desk. “Do you, uh, want to grab lunch today?”

I blinked, surprised. Spencer rarely initiated lunch plans. “Oh, sure. Yeah.”

“Great,” he said, a little too quickly, before awkwardly retreating to his desk.

By the time we sat across from each other at a small café down the street, the tension was palpable. Spencer was fidgeting with his napkin, and I could tell he was building up to something.

“Spence,” I said gently, trying to break the ice. “You’re acting weird. Is everything okay?”

He looked up at me, his cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah. Yes. Everything’s fine. I just…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “About the photo…”

My stomach twisted. “Oh god, can we just pretend that didn’t happen?” I said, laughing nervously.

He hesitated, his eyes locking onto mine. “I don’t think I can.”

That caught me off guard. “What?”

“I mean…” He shifted in his seat, looking adorably flustered. “You looked… you looked really beautiful.”

The air between us seemed to thicken, my breath catching in my throat. I hadn’t expected that.

“Spence…” I said softly, unsure of how to respond.

“I know it wasn’t meant for me,” he continued quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t… affect me.”

My heart was pounding. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “Not just in that photo, but all the time. You’re smart, and funny, and kind, and I…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this.”

My chest felt tight as I stared at him, his words sinking in. Spencer Reid, the man I’d admired for so long, was sitting across from me, confessing feelings I’d only dreamed he might have.

“Spence,” I said softly, reaching across the table to touch his hand. “I think about you too. More than I probably should.”

His eyes widened slightly, his hand turning to gently clasp mine. “You do?”

I nodded, my heart pounding. “I do.”

The tension between us crackled, and for a moment, it felt like the world around us faded away.

“We should probably get back to work,” he said eventually, though his voice was laced with reluctance.

“Yeah,” I agreed, though neither of us made a move to leave.

His thumb brushed against the back of my hand, sending a shiver down my spine. “Maybe we can… talk more later?”

I smiled, warmth spreading through me. “I’d like that.”

Later that night, as I sat in my apartment replaying the day’s events in my mind, my phone buzzed.

Spencer Reid: “You really are beautiful, you know.”

I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face as I typed back.

“So are you, genius.”

His response came almost immediately.

Spencer Reid: “Dinner tomorrow? My treat.”

My heart fluttered as I replied.

“It’s a date.”

[ridiasfangirlings]

So I was listening to my mom tell a story of how she mistook my grandpa for my dad and ended up in an embarrassing situation and now all I can think of is Fushimi/Yata and Munakata XD

So imagine Yata and Fushimi are dating and everything is going great, he’s hanging with the Blues, he is even getting along with Awashima and the BK (somewhat awkwardly). But for some reason one day, Yata mistakes Munakata for Fushimi and does something romantic ie kisses, touch, words (or worse maybe he decides now is a good time to tease his “BF” by pinching his tush or waist.

Idk what situation would lead to this realistically though, like maybe Munakata ends up in their apartment without his knowledge so he assumes it’s the other inhabitant, or he’s sleeping at Fushimi’s desk, or (true to my moms story) Sarumi is out shopping together and Yata sees Munakata from behind and they’re wearing similar outfits so Yata just assumes. Thank you!

Can you imagine Yata if he kissed Munakata accidentally, he’d have to wash his mouth out with soap immediately XD Imagine Fushimi and Yata are dating and while they share an apartment Fushimi does retain a room in the S4 dorms in case he needs it. One day S4 is dealing with a particularly major issue and Fushimi isn’t able to come home, he’s busy working and probably not getting much sleep. Once the mission is over he’s still at S4 in the office working, trying to get his reports done, and Munakata shows up to tell him to go take a rest. Fushimi clicks his tongue all should you be telling me that, haven’t you been working long hours too Captain and you know you’re not a King anymore. Munakata just smiles pleasantly and says he is fine, but he insists that Fushimi at least go get something to eat. 

Fushimi resists but finally reluctantly allows himself to be moved, he’s going to go get a coffee from the vending machine and he’ll be right back. When he gets back though Munakata is at his desk and has actually fallen asleep by Fushimi’s computer. Fushimi rolls his eyes all and you were telling me to sleep. Since he can’t work he decides to go back to the dorms but maybe he also puts his coat over Munakata, because Munakata’s done that to him before (and he wants to be sure Captain knows that Fushimi saw him sleeping so Fushimi has leverage the next time he wants to argue that he doesn’t need to take a rest). 

Meanwhile Yata is on good terms with the S4 boys and he gets a text from Hidaka about how Fushimi is still awake working on reports and it might be good for someone to come pick him up so he doesn’t overdo things. Yata knows how Fushimi can be so even though it’s late he makes his way to S4. The guys watching the gate know him more or less so they let him go through, figuring Fushimi’s boyfriend came to see him. Yata heads right for the office, even though it’s been a while since Hidaka’s text he figures Fushimi should still be there. The lights are off but there’s a figure sleeping at Fushimi’s desk still, lit up just slightly by the light of the computer screen so that Yata can see Fushimi’s coat draped over them. Yata gives a fond sigh and decides he may as well wake his boyfriend with a kiss and then they can go back to Yata’s place to sleep. 

He walks over and places this gentle kiss on the sleeping figure’s lips and imagine now that he’s closer Yata thinks something is off here. That’s when the lights turn on and he hears Fushimi’s voice all ‘Captain, I need my computer—‘ and the person at Fushimi’s desk stirs all ‘oya….?’. Yata immediately falls back with a cry, Fushimi is standing there in the doorway staring and Munakata is sleepily adjusting his glasses. Fushimi asks what Yata’s going and Yata’s all ‘you—I thought that was— what the hell,’ Munakata seems to have caught on to what happened and just has the most amused look on his face, to think Homra’s Yatagarasu was on such good terms with him after all. Yata realizes who he just kissed and he’s like I think I’m gonna throw up, stumbling past Fushimi towards the bathroom. 

I can kinda see Fushimi being momentarily jealous but once he realizes that it was really a mistake he probably finds Yata’s misfortune funny, like who knew you liked the Blue King so much Misaki. Yata is just locked in the S4 bathroom desperately washing his mouth, it tastes like Blue King this is so gross. Yata doesn’t know how he can even face Fushimi’s clan now, like it is so awkward (and Fushimi’s just like that’s how it always is with Captain, you get used to it). Fushimi grumbles that he doesn’t even look that much like Munakata and Yata’s like he was at your desk wearing your coat and the lighting was bad, how was I supposed to know. Fushimi is at least a little mollified that Yata came to get him, though now he’s pouting that he didn’t get his kiss good morning. Yata’s like I can’t kiss you until I get the Blue King germs out of my mouth, Fushimi clicks his tongue and hands Yata some more mouthwash.

[gottawritesomething]

Into the Vault

A missing scene for Gale between getting the book of Karsus and asking Tav to support his bid for godhood.

--------------------------------------

Every step they took towards the vault of Karsus felt weighed down with lead. Like the floor grasped every footfall and resisted their release. Gale had barrelled ahead of the group at every intersection, barely waiting for others to comprehend the protective puzzle magic, let alone stopping to explain them as he so often did. Astarion had lost his patience with Gale more on this outing than any other Tav could recall. 

“I'm sorry, but what in the literal Hells was that?” Astarion snapped, skillfully disarming another fire trap that Gale had set off in his haste. “At this rate, you’ll burn out your eyes before you even lay them on this book.”

Gale barely acknowledged the retort, waving his hand dismissively as he regarded the remaining doors. Mentally constructing the path to the Karsus vault. Astarion shot Tav a look of disapproval, though whether it was regarding the situation itself or her general choices, it was hard to tell. Before she could even muster a returning glance of ‘sorry’, Gale was through the next door. Three very frustrating rooms later, the door to the vault of Karsus slid open, and a worn unimpressive book sat on the pedestal. Tav was first to it, through great effort. Her hands glided over the soft leather and twice rebound spine. Gale breathed out in wonderment at the book in her hands

“If the crown atop the elder brain was truly forged by Karsus himself, this book will confirm it. All we have to do is turn the page…” An unsettling light glinted in Gale’s eyes as he regarded the book in her hands as though attempting to read it through the closed cover. Under his gaze, Tav could hold her tongue no longer. She looked at him imploringly, softening her eyes as she tried to meet his. Hoping to convey her sincerity.

“I'm not sure I want you delving into this…Gale. I understand the importance of knowing more about the crown but I don’t think-” Gale cut in, frustrated. 

“And since when have we sought to avoid trouble, eh? Come now, the knowledge lurking between those pages could help us greatly. Don't be a hindrance after being such a great help.” Tav’s eyebrows shot up, and after a pause, she silently released the book into Gale’s waiting hands.

“There, that wasn’t so difficult,” Gale absent-mindedly remarked, already thumbing through the pages. From Karlach and Astarion, respectively, came a quiet gasp and a low hiss. Tav took a moment to gather herself before gesturing to the other companions. 

“We’ll be heading back then; come join us when you’re ready.” Gale nodded in recognition without looking up, and with that, Tav headed for the door. 

*⟺*

Gale wasn’t certain how many hours had passed by the time he surfaced from Karsus’s journal. Much of the journal was written in some kind of cipher that had demanded the utmost focus to even begin to decode. He mulled over particularly tricky passages as he passed through the portals to return to street-level. He’d spent the better part of the day specifically translating the reforging technique into a bound journal for later scrutiny. He walked mindlessly through the streets lit by the mid-afternoon sun, somehow finding his way to the Elfsong Taven. His feet carried him while his thoughts drifted, and soon he arrived at their shared floor. Compared to their previous accommodations the tavern felt like a palace, though a conspicuously empty palace presently. Gale resisted the urge to slink back to his bunk to continue his work; he already had much to tell Tav about the journal. He scanned the richly decorated floor for her, spotting Karlach and Astarion lounging on the couches in the common area, though Tav remained unseen. 

“Ah, Karsus’s heir apparent graces us with his presence…” Astarion moved his hand in a mock salute. Gale was unsurprised by the attitude but could have sworn he caught the edge of something else in his voice.

“Where has our illustrious leader run off to? Hm?” Gale directed his question to Karlach hoping to get an actual answer out of the pair. Karlach looked at him curiously before giving him a sad sort of smile. 

“She and the rest of the gang headed to the House of Grief…”

Gale nodded thoughtfully, he’d stayed behind at camp before but typically they discussed it beforehand. He wondered if he’d perhaps spent too long in the vault.

“I see; I presume she did not wish to disturb my studies.” Karlach and Astarion shared a look, an air of apprehension hanging between the two of them. Gale had no interest in parsing the meaning, not when the pull of the journal was so strong. “And in light of that, I shall return to it. Perhaps I will have it entirely transcribed by her return.” he strode back to his nook and sat down to write. As the day wore on, and the sun sunk below the window, casting long shadows on the walls of the inn, there was still no sight of Tav or any of their compatriots. Gale set upon preparing a meal for them so at the very least, they could fill their stomachs after their lengthy absence. It also served as an excellent distraction from the growing concern nestling itself in Gale’s stomach. As the pot came to a boil in the fireplace, the door to the floor flew open. Wyll and Lae’zel dragged themselves into the room, the exhaustion etched as deeply as the dirt and blood on their faces. Jahiera appeared from the wings to attend to their injuries as Gale watched the door for the rest of their motley crew. The door yawned wide but remained empty. Wyll called over his shoulder to Gale as Jahiera wrapped one of his cuts.

“Tav and Shadowheart headed to a Selunite Shrine. Shadowheart showed great bravery today, but the cost of the day is weighing on her heart. She asked for Tav’s support.” Gale gave him a warm smile, nodding to indicate his understanding and hoping that his smile had remained unlaced with the now full-grown anxiety gnawing at his insides. Gale did not linger after dinner, instead opting to return to his bunk and the comfort of his research. Within moments he had settled into his make-shift desk and the assurance of routine. A hushed and urgent discussion floated over the hastily placed divider between his bunk and Astarion’s. Though almost no conversations had been truly private in camp, the ambient sounds of the night or the echoes of caves and temples had provided some cover to those wishing to have covert discussions. But within the walls of the inn, the city’s noises were muffled, which in turn served to amplify the nearer sounds. 

“-withstand this any longer; it has eclipsed from amusing to quite sad.”

“Tav would not want us to stick our noses in their business.”

“Normally, I would agree but this is going to impact me, or us I suppose. Especially if it blows up in our faces, more specifically if he does.”

Under normal circumstances, it was possible that Gale would have simply buried his nose into his book harder, but the uncertainty of the day and the clear indication they were discussing him caused him to lean ever so slightly towards the noise. Astarion’s whisper had gotten even quieter, causing Gale to inch closer to the pair.

“I mean, have we considered that he could have dissolved their little bond by even pursuing this, and that is without even considering how he spoke to her like she was a particularly incompetent shopkeeper.”

“Tav wouldn’t just-”

“But it wouldn’t be her, would it? It would be him.”

Gale had heard more than enough. As usual, Astarion did not understand. That much was clear. He parted the separating dividers, startling Karlach, while Astarion looked utterly unsurprised.

“Perhaps leave stealth to the professionals, darling.” Astarion looked rather bored as he regarded Gale’s rapidly heating face.

“It is hardly reasonable to accuse me of sneaking around my own bunk. Besides, it is rather poorer form to discuss that of which you have no knowledge of.” Karlach had the good graces to look vaguely ashamed while Astarion continued to regard him coolly. Astarion’s silence only served to incense Gale further.

“Furthermore, perhaps I was a touch surly, but she, unlike you, understands everything that rides upon this and what it could mean for us.  Tav is everything to me, and I certainly wouldn’t speak to her in a manner…what did you describe it as? An incompetent shopkeep?" 

Karlach cut in. 

“She knows you love her, Gale, but I don’t think you’re understanding how it came across…” Gale looked unimpressed by the assertion, as Karlach considered her opinions.

“Maybe we can use the squidy connection to show you what we mean? From our side I mean,”

Gale considered it carefully; it seemed a waste to turn down an opportunity to prove Astarion wrong…

“Certainly.” No sooner had the words left his mouth, the scene in the vault unfolded in his mind. This time the focus being Tav not the book, he watched apprehension and worry swim across Tav's features as they crossed the threshold. Her attempt to appeal to him, his refusal and dismissal. Her crestfallen face as they had left the room. Gale felt like a well placed arrow had skewered him through the chest. He hadn’t ruined their bond had he? It certainly seemed he had. He jerked back, severing the connection. A cold sweat formed on his brow.

“So like we were saying…” Karlach began.

“No I see now, I must explain my behavior to her. If I can convey the gravity of the opportunities that this crown can grant us, she'll understand my rush and thoughtlessness. I've already translated the first part of the reforging so I can explain how near and realistic this goal could be for us…That I never meant to…” The words tumbled from Gale's mouth as he ran an unsteady hand through his hair. Karlach once again attempted to interject only to be cut short by the inn's door's opening. The silver sheen of Shadowheart's hair caught the light as she stepped quietly into the room. Gale held his breath, awaiting Tav's appearance after what now felt like an age. Only to once again be met with absence. A panicked thought rocketed through his mind, perhaps his actions had caused her to abandon the camp as a whole, he could hardly fault her. He suppressed the rising panic as the room's occupants crowded in on Shadowheart. Karlach pulled her into a hug, while Wyll rested a soothing hand on her back. Her eyes were red from crying. Gale stayed silent, uncertain if he could offer meaningful words of comfort or if they were even desired from him. Soon the crowd dispersed, leaving Gale hovering uncomfortably near the door. Perhaps his unsteady posture and sour look highlighted his agitation because he soon found himself face-to-face with Jaheria. 

“The cub headed for the bath, wizard.” Jahiera’s voice seemed so far away, only just reaching Gale's ears. He nodded curtly and stepped out the door.

"Tav?" He approached the chosen bathing room's door and glanced about for any sign of their companions. "May I come in?" after a moment, he heard the shift of a lock. Taking a deep breath to center himself, he pushed into the room. 

Steam obscured much of the room as Gale watched the mage hand that had opened the door dissipate. Tav's back was to him, the bubbles now sparse, floating on the surface of the water. Her usually voluminous hair slicked back off her face and down her back. Had it been a more amicable day, Gale would have been struck by how elegant she looked while simply lounging in the tub. His heart ached greatly as an unacknowledged worry hummed within him that perhaps this would be the last time he saw her in such a casually intimate state. 

He walked around to face her, nervously fiddling with his hands. "Ah the benefits of a soak does wonders for the soul. A clean body can clear the mind of worries. How did your foray fair my-" He stopped himself, his words caught in his throat as their eyes met. " My...dear..." He finished, his heart sinking. For the first time, she was unreadable to him, though her displeasure was clear enough. She didn't look angry, instead seeming demoralized. Immediately, a hundred scenarios buzzed through Gale's mind. The scene in the vault, alongside a dozen other moments he should have been more courteous or helpful. Actions he could have taken in the days prior that could have avoided this fracture. She stood from the tub and dismissed the water with her hand. Gale turned away as she dressed, awaiting her answer. 

“It went well; Shadowheart will need a lot of support over the next couple of days.” She wrung out her hair over the tub, watching Gale carefully. 

“It has been brought to my attention that I have not behaved in a manner befitting a wizard of my caliber, and certainly not one who requested your continued faith in him. I do not fault you for giving me a wide berth, given my conduct.” He searched her eyes for understanding, while certain he would see brewing repudiation.

“I did not avoid you intentionally. I wouldn’t ignore you to punish you, I thought you knew that.” The disappointed hurt he’d seen flash across her face in the vault had returned in full force. Her concessions only deepened his unease. Of course, she’d be kind in her rejection of him, patient and understanding as she severed their ties. Gale deepened his breathing, attempting to reclaim the feeling of stability that was sliding through his fingers. 

“Yes, yes, of course. I apologize for suggesting otherwise. I cannot express my remorse over my behavior in the vault, but I must impress upon you that this is no passing whim, trust me. If I can obtain that crown, it will affect us all. It is not a decision I'll take lightly. It's our future that I'm thinking of - we can't rely on anyone else to protect or cure us. That has been shown time and time again. All I ask of you, singularly, is a night to prove all I can be to you, please.” Once again, the words spilled from his mouth with a speed rivaling even the fastest rogue. He bit down, hoping that perhaps his teeth could slow the flow and desperation. The look on her face carved into his heart with such breathless skill he wondered if he’d welcome the orb's ache over this.

“Please. Let me show you all that I can give you with your support and belief.”

Tav drew in a shaky breath and nodded slowly. Gale only just restrained himself from sweeping her into his arms; she’d gifted him both forgiveness and the chance to demonstrate all he could accomplish in her presence. He would ensure he could live up to that unspoken promise. 

“Words alone are not enough. Permit me to show you. Please, close your eyes a moment.”

————————————————————

Other works

[sketchfanda]

Chestnut Stud Across the Multiverse Party 3

Getting the Scoop!

To the public eye of many from Satan city to South City, Lois Cho was a renowned reporter noted for his feisty go-getter attitude and the lengths she went through to get the major scoops. As well as her stunning good looks and her fit toned body which was the source and cause of many a wet dreams for hot blooded man which kickstarted many in their puberty. What they didn’t know was that she was in fact a spy for a network of a secret ninja clan, yes I’m not making this shit up, you think I could? But long story short, unknown to the common folk, this daredevil newshound was a femme fatale kunoichi whose skills were matched only by her sensual thirst and desire.

And right now this enigma of a bombshell currently had a task to carry out in determine the identity of the mysterious Great Saiyaman though why the clan thought the costumed clown was worth the notice and hassle was beyond her. But a job was a job and right now she was following a potential lead investigating someone who may perhaps known the rather cheesey superhero personally, a local Satan City PD officer by the name of Krillin…Sanchez? A peculiar name to say the least but given the appearance of this guy it seemed to fit, though she had to say he was rather cute in a way, dare she say handsome? But it was a simple matter of infiltrating his home under the guise and pretence of looking to personally interview him for a possible article on individuals improving the reputation and prestige of the public image on law enforcement.

Now Lois certainly thought she was a slick sort of smooth operator, that she she had the runty 5-0 in the palm of her hands as she made use of her natural feminine wiles and charms to get under his skin. It certainly helped she applied some subtle make-up and wore a simple ensemble that showed off her stunning toned body, leaning and moving in such ways that showed off her legs, teased some cleavage and taunted him with a mini-skirt teasing a flash of a lacy thong. Yet to her amazement and confusion and a bit of growing frustration, this admittedly good looking man was keeping pretty cool under the pressure she was applying. Though it likely wasn’t helping matters that she was conducting this interview slash interrogation in his home wit that stupid sexy wife of his hovering around, what the he’ll was she even looking so smug about?

But the secret kunoichi wouldn’t let her pride be deterred, no sir, not at all, Lois Cho had never met a man who didn’t become putty in her hands when it came to going for the Achilles heel that was their third legs. Krillin was no different as far as she was concerned and she was going to be rocking his 4 to 5 foot world and having him call her queen in no time!! All she had to do was up her seduction game and she woild have him pitching a tent so fast that he’d pop the fly of his jeans. It was time to bring her A game and make him squirm!!

She made sure to play all her best cards, in a manner of speaking as she closed the distance of space between them, her tone of voice taking on a hint of intimacy that wanted to break down the walls of polite professionalism between them. A teasing caress here and there, a little body language to coax and encourage him to touch her right where she wanted him to. Oh he was strong willed, certainly but she had a sense she was wearing down his resistance. All she needed was to work some oral magic and then she'd really be getting him to call her Queen.....

That had been the plan at least originally that she had intended but somehow someway? This goddamn runt was a natural love machine packing a weapon of sexual destruction beneath his pants and damn her libido!! She was now on her hands and knees, stripped down to her lingerie as she was sucking him off with a power force blowjob, her brain's switches being flipped to total bitch in heat mode. Massaging his hips and thighs as he held her hair in a firm grip, bucking those strong pelvic muscles as he gave a facefucking to make her deepthroat him.

And how she was fucking loving every damn second of it, feeling reduced to his personal devoted sex slave as his length and girth gave her an oral preview of what awaited her pussy. Those smooth, heavy balls smacking her chin with the momentum and force of a newton's cradle pendulum, soaking his shaft with her drool. All the while 18 looked on with a sense of smug satisfaction, as if she was expecting this sort of result. For all her research into her target, it had never occured to Lois that the blonde cyborg was a total deviant who got off on this sort of thing especially when seeing uppity bitches like her learn their place.

That being made another notch on her Krillin's belt of conquests but hey if she proved to be a good little sex kitten, 18 might consider her harem material if not maybe a regular fuck buddy or booty call. For now the blonde looked on with all her voyueristic intent, one hand under her shirt and another plunging down the front of her jeans with little to no shame. Nothing better than to see Krillin blow some bitch's mind like he had done to her their first time together, to think she wanted to rock his world when in fact she was the one who got rocked. How could any pretty thing not want a taste of such an experience, especially when it was some femme fatale wanna be who thought they were so damn slick?!

Now if Lois had thought having that cock in her mouth was an intense experience, as soon as it was penetrating her? Any and every man she had ever had an erotic encounter with was put to shame by this sex god of a runt was taking her to fuckdamn bone town and back. Her body pinned beneath him as he mounted and fucked her in a missionary position, her lovely toned legs draped over his shoulders as a basic position like his was intense when done by him and his cock. Jackhammering away as every impact of his balls agains her clapping asscheeks making her howl and moan, orgasms rocking her...and this beastly dwarf hadn't even cum yet himself!!

But of course Krillin was just getting started with his tantric magic as if he seemed to enter a state of nothingness, able to enter a mindet focused on outright making love to Cho in mind, body and soul. Which proved to be an unreal, overwhelming experience for the secret femme fatale as she felt like an amateur pornstar in the hands of an experienced adult film star veteran. Each, any and every single position he put her through drowning her brain in raw, mind numbing pleasure. But most especially whenever he would finally cum inside her, the raw blissful thrill of his hot man juice flowing into her womb and flooding it to excess.

Lois Cho wasn’t sure how or why this happened and quite frankly she just couldn’t care anymore. She was feeling too damn good right about now as she kept he legs wrapped around this short king of a sex god, screaming his name with abandon. Not even protesting when 18 threw herself into the mix to make this a threesome as she was prone to, showing she knew her way with a woman’s body as well as her husband did. There was no doubt when this was all over with, the secret kunoichi femme fatale was definitely going to be a booty call.

Sometime after that failed seduction mission, Lois had pretty much foregone her original mission but found herself having gotten something better than some boring intel. That being Krillin and 18’w phone numbers as she could now enjoy the odd saucy picture of video sent her way and give back as good as she was getting. All the while anticipating when she might get the sort of message that signified when she could get her next dose of Krillin’s Red hot chestnut love. Wondering if the next time might result in her being knocked up, the thrill of her washboard abs becoming swollen with carrying his child really turning her on.

But of course what was really giving Lois some warm, sexy dreams at night was fantasising about her hated rival, that stupid sexy bitch Agent 69. To be precise, that stupid sexy statuesque stunner getting pinned down and taken by Krillin as he fucked her in ways that would ruin her for other men altogether. All the while she was forced to eat Lois out snd be made to recognise her as her superior as the butch learned her place. Oh yes now there was an idea she would have to run by 18 for sure, as she sent her picture of that hated bitch whore for her review….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waifu Connoisseur: Test Runs

Krillin knew there would be days like this but this was just getting more ridiculous than the constant power level gap between most fighters compared to the resident Saiyan Warriors. Particularly and especially whenever there seemed to always be who the hell knows how many forms or variation of freakin' Super Saiyan!! But being here on this pseudo talk show or rather stealth amateur porn set was a whole different matter as he tuned out the applauding audience to shoot deadpan glares at the host, who seemed non-chalant to getting such looks, gee wonder why? Well it could’ve had to do whatever the hell the name of this damn show meant or implied which was enough of a red flag already nevermind that this Mr,sketch guy was well sketchy as all hell!!

Sketch:*The flaming skullheaded enigma of a host adjusting his tie as he greeted the applauding audience who just so happened to consist of women. Women who of course had been in prior sexual contact and acquaintance with the compact fighter who continued to give the host a deadpan flare his cool, calm cyborg asskicker o a wife sat in the couch beside him taking it all in stride.*”Hello there all you maniacs in the crowd and watching at home and welcome to the latest edition of Waifu Connoisseur featuring Mr.Krillin here as we arrange for him to get intimate with the finest, hottest pieces of ass around!!”*That made Krillin react as you’d expect, seeming shocked and flabbergasted at the brazen statement. Was this skullheaded maniac for real?!!*

Though then again he knows he shouldn’t be surprised given what happened the last time he appeared on this damn show, he was still feeling phantom sensations all over. Power Girl and Ms.Marvel had been intense to say the least, especially once 18 got into the fray, hell the blonde duo still sent him nude pictures and videos now and then. All he knew for sure was that this flaming skullheaded looney had someone or something in mind and whether human or not, one thing was clear. She was going to be a bitch in heat and he was going to be sore all over in ways he was all too familiar with since 18 rocked his four foot world.

Sketch:”With that said, let’s not waste any time and get right to our main event. Here is our lucky lady this time around….”*Beating on his desk t make a drum roll, the crowd went wild as out came a distinct, very exotic robot woman. To call her a stunner or a knockout was understating it, like someone took some liquid chrome and poured into a mould shaped like the curves and tone of a pornstar. So mechanical, yet organic all at once, looking a tasteful nude art piece but the fact she seemed naked already certainly helped. The skullheaded host looking smugly at the stunned, jaw dropped expression on Krillin’s face, knowing he was being reeled in hook, line and sinker.*

The sexy robo pin up babe locked her singular jade green visor gaze on Krillin, sensually humming as if appraising a work of art and clearly liking what she saw. Turning around as she conducted and performed a few poses for his liking and attention, sticking her ass out and swaying it his way. The liquid like booty cheeks jiggling and clapping as she twerked, courting him like a bitch in heat during mating season. Now in spite of what Yamcha would claim, it wasn't that Krillin had a thing for androids oh no, quite the opposite, they had a thing for him and this lovely specimen was clearly becoming a definite Krillin-sexual.

It was no surprise then soon as the Skull-headed host made his exit to give them some privacy and let the audience consisting of Krillin's ladies enjoy the show that the fun started. The Hajime Robo-girl shedding the singular dress that provided some form or level of modesty to expose her lucious liquid silver self before him. Wasting no time in lessening the distance between them to lock lips with him and ignite the spark of passion and attraction between them. A sensual moan escaping her as she felt the short king gladly return her kiss, growing in volume as his hands began to caress and grope her all over.

In spite of her metallic form, she was quite cool and amazing to the sense of touch and she was definitely made to be like a woman from her head to toe. Feeling his nameless metallic babe kiss her way down his torso as she began to strip him of his clothing. Gasping and oohing in awe as she freed his stiff, twitching cock from the confinement of his pants and boxers. All her data and knowledge on sex and porn coming forth as she put it to use, grasping his shaft as it pulse in her hand and proceeded to conduct fellatio. Unhindered by a gag reflex as she wasted no time in deepthroating him, humming and moaning as she felt delight in feeling him buck and pump his hips in reflex to such an intense blowjob.

Naturally this soon escalted once Krillin's libido reached its peak as he soon went from facefucking this hot sexy digital lovedoll to full on fucking her. The liquid silver bombshell straddling his lap as she bounced and rode on his cock with wanton abandon, her metallic booty jiggling and clapping with every impact against those heavy balls of his. Hugging and holding his head to her titaniuam bosom as he had his strong arms wrapped around her toned waist as her deep, passionate moans echoied throughout the studio. No onahole could compare to the sort of pussy she'd been provided, made especially to handle Krillin's erotic oak tree as that length and girth slid right into its welcoming embrace.

An embrace the android Jane Doe didn't wish to let go off, welcoming each and every shift in position along with the thrlling sensation of Krillin cumming inside of her. Wishing she could be able to bare and carry a child as the feeling his seed pouring into her womb made her wonder what it'd be like to have a bun in the oven. Particularly when in the more intimate or primal positions such as when he mounted atop her while taking her from behind in the doggy style positon, his pelvis smacking her shiney metal ass as those heavy pendulums that were his balls smacked her clit. Or the raw, assertive display of strength and dominance as he held her up in a full nelson position, jackhammering away into her pussy's ever slick, welcome embrace.

The studio audience was loving every bit of it as much as she was of course, but that was a given who it consisted of. That being just about any and every possible fuck buddy, booty call and harem girl, per the accordance of android 18 of course. Who was especially enjoying the show out of them the most, leave it to her Krillin to once again be a natural alpha male for an android girl and this one was looking to be a real keeper. Licking her lips in delight at the sight of the robo babe currently taking it like a champion as Krillin had her ina mating press, having folded her like an accordion as she moaned with wanton abandon, eager to have him flood her with his seed once again...

By this point, Krillin’s marathon session soon got that crowd of horny. Itches in heat worked uo to such a degree that they started playing with themselves with abandon, casting aside any and all shame and inhibition. Soon making out and groping one another before soon throwing out some dyna-caps, puffs of smoke breaking out to reveal hoard of warrior monks. The Capsule Cocks grown and made Krillin clones all standing naked and erect, ready, willing and able as they wasted no time in making their move. The studio a sea of bodies as hit, sexy bitches had themselves an orgy, getting their Warrior Monks to rock their world snd scratch their itches like only they could.

18 herself of course was right in the thick of it as she went and made her way in over to join Krillin and this absolute stunner. Making out with this shiney chrome hottie as Krillin’s one on one acquaintance with this new robo hottie in his life now became a threesome. Say what one will about the host who runs this glorified secret amateur porn studio but he sure knew how to pick ‘em. Though he had to wonder where that lunatic was right about now…..

Mr.Sketch:*Deep within his secret office, the floating skullheaded madman sat away at a desk, hitting away in the keys of a type writer. A small growing piles of scripts all around him as he looked at the camera.*”You’re still here? Go away, this is private!!”*He reached out to shove the camera away, shutting the door. A click of the locks being set and he was back at it…doing who only knows what…*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Space Adventure....KRILLIN?!!

Now one thing Krillin knew from his experiences when it came to the women in his life was that when either Bulma or 21 called him to their labs or workshops, it was either a booty call or they had something kinky in mind. Like those two modified former red ribbon prototypes 2B and 2P, was Yamcha right in saying he had a thing for android women or was it more like androids had a thing for him? Of course when you consider how much of a kinky deviant his wife was, it definitely had to be the latter but here he was all the same as he entered the testing room. Made out s always to seem like the luxury suite of a five star hotel to see just who or what the horny brainiacs were sending his way.

What stood there before the compact fighter of course was an absolute stunner who matched his wife’s height of 5 foot 7, a true, literally blue robot woman. Her stunning toned frame a rich sleek cobalt sapphire chrome that looked smooth and solid to the touch yet she moved like flowing liquid with the grace and poise of a super model. Her golden eyes glowing gently as she made her way over to him, tilting her head as she seemed to be examine him from head to toe, metal palms and fingers cupping his blushing face. Silence between them before this enigmatic mecha bombshell spoke up finally in a digital voice thst sounded rather soothing and sensual.

??:”You would be Mr.Krillin, correct?”*The short king simply nodded, doing his best not ogle this strange, alluring robotic wet dream brought to life. Seriously in some angles and lighting, in spite of the okayed and armouring, she could almost seem naked.*”I’m known as Lady Armaroid….and I do believe I find you quite…erotic….but require a little data in the nature of…sexual relations….so please, let us commence…”*Before Krillin knew it, this alluring metal woman known as Armaroid was making him plant his face between the valley of her cleavage. Her metallic tits much softer than they looked, her ass also matching that regard as he found ehr guiding his hands to cul and squeeze that steel booty.*

Whatever doubts, hesitations or worries Krillin had prior to arriving here and meeting this exotic robo woman had pretty much gone right out the window, forcibly kicked in the ass by his libido. He wasn’t sure where Bulma or 21 found this woman or what posed them to design her in such a way but damn if she wasn’t a work of art. Finding himself planting kisses along that smooth and quite soft chrome body of hers from head to toe, in spite of its cold harsh look it felt amazing to the touch. The soft sensual gasps and moans escaping her very addicting to hear, more so when he groped and touched her in the right places.

In spite of how cold she seemed, she truly felt great to touch as if her chrome form was a sort of metal in a state between solid and liquid made just right for this sort of intimacy. Especially and particularly when groping her tits and of course probing the slit of her pussy, warm nectar flowing as it soaked his hand up the wrist and coated her luscious thighs. Soon finding himself planting his head between them as he was pressing his lips to her mound and proceeding to eat her out. Lady Armaroid letting loose deepthroated moans of passion as she found Krillin to be exceeding any expectations the data she'd been given prior to this had informed her.

If there was any critique Lady would have had to say of this encounter of course, it was the fact she lacked a mouth with which to return the favour in terms of kissing Krillin or giving him a blowjob. But he didn't seem to mind in the slighttest, as he seemed to enjoy more on focusing on giving attention to her pleasure alone which only served to further enamour and endear the little man to her. Caressing and holding his smooth shaved head to pussy as she found his skills at eating a woman out was no slouch what so ever. But of course as per the data, this would be nothing compared to the moment when she would have the splendid cock of his inside of her.

A moment that 21 and Bulma were certainly anticipating as they watched on from behind the secret two way mirror of the testing room with voyueristic intent. They had a feeling Lady Armaroid would take to her new modifications and upgrades like a fish to water but this was proving even hotter than expected. Oh sure Lady wouldn'tbe able to experience the joy of a Krillin level facefucking from that Golden God cock of his but her design was was too beautiful to mess with. Besides it wasn't like the rest of her could make for it especially with the shiney metal ass of hers!!

An ass that was soon sandwiching and humping Krillin's length and girth between those twin steel cheeks, massaging and stroking him off as she had him laying on the bed back flat and naked. Having helped him strip and wanting to get to return the favour for his earlier oral service, finding his shaft to be even more delightful in the flesh compared to the pictures and videos Bulma and 21 had provided her in her "sexual education". Her slit running along as she twerked and stroked off his cock, lubing up that rod with her sticky warmth as she felt it pulse and quiver with growing desire. His hands caressing and groping her glorious form all the while, her moans music to his ears.

Krillin wasn't sure how or when but it wasn't surprising when he soon found himself penetrating this hot metallic piece of ass, thrusting and pumping away into Armaroid’s pussy with jackhammering piston motions. Grasping those luscious steel hips of hers as she bounced and rode on him cowgirl style, her moans deep and sensual as her circuits ran with the electric pulse of raw pleasure. Hands caressing those washboard abs as as she gasped at the sudden slaps to her jiggling shiney metal ass and those firm hands groooing her bouncing tits. And Bulma and 21 knew their little stud was just getting started, after all once Krillin was inside a woman, he could keep going until those balls were drained dry.

Seconds into Minutes became hours as Armaroid and her newfound short king depended their sexual acquaintance with marathon session of pleasure. Those strong arms grasping her bombshell form in their erotic embrace as her mecha ass and pussy were pounded and hammered, ensuring they woild be moulded to his cock and his alone. Loving the mere concept and possibility as she held on for dear life, gladly welcoming his constant rut as she was taken in a mating press or found him mounting her backside as she was taken from behind doggy style and prone bone, orgasms assaulting her circuits over and over. The thrill of this meatbag, no this sex god unleashing his white hot seed inside of her and painting her chrome blue steel body.

For Bulma and 21, it was inevitable they’d start playing with themselves before they soon found themselves making out with raw passion and desire. Eating one another out and son having themselves a pair of Warrior Monk sex dolls brought out to help properly indulge their thirst and fantasy for their favourite little man. Making out with sloppy abandon, tongues dancing as their Krillin clones pumped and hammered like the sex machines they were designed to be. All the while Krillin and Armaroid continued to go at it with no signs of stopping what so ever.

But of course the blue steel beauty didn’t want it to stop for a whole, not when the high of rutting eith this short king was too damn good. Arms and legs wrapped around his compact Adonis frame as she bounced in his lap in a seated lotus position as he held and squeezed her ass. His adorable, handsome face planted between the valley of her metallic bosom, the scent of her sensual form lik a natural perfume. The bed pretty much getting wrecked as the bedsheets were soaked with sweat and the stains of their constsnt flow and rain of sex juices.

Suffice to say, Bulma and 21 considered this test run a success and 18 was sure to share that opinion given she was getting this session streamed to her laptop in secret. The blonde no doubt making plans in that kinky cyborg brain of hers to see if she convince her man to keep Armaroid around their home as a live in nanny. After all her Krillin needed something much better to have in hand than a pocket pussy to jerk off with if he didn’t have her or any other ladies on hand. Never let it be said that she didn’t love her husband, after all when you had a stud like him, you’d want to keep him happy too….

[catiecat1320]

Sonadowtober Prompt 2: Travel the World

A mini trip around the world

Read Below 🔽

“Hey Shads!” Sonic shouted, causing Shadow to peel his eyes away from the streets of Empire City to look at his boyfriend trying to flag him down like a taxi. “Look over here!”

“Calm down. You’re making a fool of yourself.” Despite his remark, the striped hedgehog made his way over, not-so-discreetly intertwining his fingers with Sonic’s once by his side. The tiered pagodas and red accented architecture pointed toward Chun-nan, a place Shadow has only seen in pictures.

“It’s the Great Wall.” Using his free hand, the hero traced the winding stone structure sitting among the mountains almost wistfully. “Isn’t it awesome? I remember running along it with Chip…”

Must be another one of his adventures, Shadow figured. He wouldn’t be surprised. Sonic’s been everywhere at this point. “It looks beautiful.”

“It is. I should take you there sometime! It’d be nice to explore more when the world isn’t ending.”

“The world’s always ending.” Shadow deadpanned, stopping just too late as he realized his words. 

Sonic stared at him as if he grew a third eye, a smirk spread across his face. “Was that a joke I heard, mister?”

“You make it sound as if I don’t possess a sense of humor.”

“Who knows! A lot of things fly right over your head. Maybe you don’t.” 

That earned him a punch, but it sure didn’t stop him from cackling at Shadow’s offense. “Why do I deal with you…”

“Because you love me~” Sonic teased, attempting to kiss Shadow on the cheek. He didn’t expect the guy to pull away, leaving him colliding with the ground instead. 

“No.”

Sonic wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he got up, emerald eyes glimmering with mischief. A look all too familiar. Shadow was ready when he pounced, dodging the hedgehog with ease.

“No,” he repeated. A single, short word holding the offer of a challenge.

Neither could resist.

Maybe MiniWorld wasn’t the best place to race, especially with all the very breakable Lego structures. But neither hedgehog cared enough to stop. 

Shamar, Mazuri, Apotos, Spagonia… places he’d only read about in books. Sonic probably knew all these locations firsthand, from the landmarks to the hidden treasures. Shadow wished he had the luxury of such knowledge. 

Maybe one day they’ll be able to race through the real thing, and he’d get to experience the world in its full glory. Sonic had offered to take him to Chun-nan after all…

“Sir,” Shadow skidded to a halt, turning around to find a nervous employee, their eyes wide with an unreadable emotion. “C-could you please not run through the exhibit?”

“Of course! Sorry about that!” Sonic appeared behind Shadow, grabbing his arm and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. ‘I win,’ he mouthed with a smirk, leading him away. 

“So,” the blue hedgehog starts when they’re out of hearing distance. They’re in a section Shadow can’t recognize. “You’re thoughtful. More than usual, I mean. What’s going on up there?”

Was he acting differently? “You know me too well…”

“Ha! What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t know you as well as I do?”

Shadow didn’t answer that question.

“C’mon… Are you thinking about Maria?”

Of all the things he could have expected to come out of Sonic’s mouth, that was not one of them. Then again, the blue idiot had a way of surprising him.

Said idiot tried to reclaim his words when Shadow didn’t respond. “Sorry, sorry! I. Uh—”

“It’s fine. You’re right,” he interrupted. “I guess I am thinking about Maria… This…” Shadow gestured around them at the recreated world “...may be a model, but it’s the closest I’ve ever been to seeing all the places she wanted to go.”

She would’ve loved to have something like this on the ARK, a replacement for the planet she’d never be able to experience. If only…

“It doesn’t have to end here!” Sonic hooked his arm with Shadow’s, snapping him back to the present. “If I can travel the world, you can too! We can. Together. For her and for us.”

So enthusiastic. Shadow couldn’t help but smile. “I suppose… They say there’s no time like the present, after all.”

“Awesome!” His partner cheered. “Where do we start?”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“No such thing when you’re the fastest thing alive!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m your idiot.”

[thatwildnya]

Chapter 1: pov you've been adopted by a strange bird man who put you in a barely functioning house during a typhoon and now you find yourself rooming with a giant bat and his fox son what a great start to this story

TW: none. i think.

chatters: Wild panicked on what to call this chapter please bear with him and be nice pls. also everything this is subject to change

Lilia: vampire bat (obviously)

Silver: arctic fox

The floorboards creaked as you walked through the door. Dust and cobwebs covering everything in sight as if trying to swallow the furniture. There was a lot of cleaning to be done, and you were not looking forward to it.

Covering your nose with your sleeve, you walk into the living room thinking about what your newly adopted uncle had said.

“I have so graciously cleaned the master bed, bath, and kitchen for you so you can rest as soon as you arrive. Everything is in working condition. However the water only works in your bathroom, and all other maintenance won’t be able to come until the storm is over. Don’t forget to light the fireplace to keep warm at night. Your neighbors have agreed to allow you to come over and charge any electronic devices as needed. Here’s a credit card, use it to only buy the essentials! There’s plenty of premade meals that you can just eat straight away or heat up real quick. Just call me if you need anything! I’ll be off then, see you!”

Then he’d driven off. At least he left you food and a lantern.

You followed footsteps on the dust covered floor, assuming they’d lead you to the bedroom. If not you might be looking for a while, this place was huge. You remember he’d mentioned it used to be some kind of dorm.

Finding your room, you went to one of the windows to peer out. You grimace seeing the state of the yard, you were not looking forward to cleaning it either.

A scuffling sound caught your attention. Head whipping around, you notice the blankets on the bed were messy. Did your uncle not bother to fold them? The answer came a second later as a snout poked out from under the bed.

A white fox kit peeked out at you, quickly popping back into hiding seeing you had spotted it.

Slowly you set down your bags and get on your knees to take a look at the little animal. It had backed into a corner, trying to make itself look small. It stared back with pretty blue purplish eyes, ears flat against its head.

The little guy must have found its way in here to hide from the storm that was forecasted to start tonight. The clouds had been forming all day, and the rain should start any minute now.

Sitting back up, you open a backpack to fish out one of those premade sandwich boxes found at grocery stores. Opening it up you tore the sandwich in two, placing the bigger half on the lid, and slid it towards the little fur baby. Its ears perked, raising its head. Its nose twitched, the smell of turkey making its tummy growl.

“It needs it more than I do.” you thought watching the fox kit creep closer, unable to resist the temptation of food. What happened next was unexpected.

The fox poofed into a young boy with cute fox ears, below his torso was replaced with a fox body instead of legs. He reached out, pulling his meal under the bed for him to enjoy.

“Huh. He’s a centaur.” you thought, watching the silver hair boy gobbling up his half with gusto. Was he abandoned? He knew how to use his hands well for his age. Or maybe he picked it up from watching humans.

Once finished he licked mustard off his fingers. Ew, good thing you waited for him to eat first. Mustard was gross. His eyes turned back to you, unabashedly staring at the other half. You almost laughed at the stare, he was adorable.

“You can have it,” his eyes lit up, yep definitely abandoned he could understand you, “but you have to come get it yourself.” he didn’t hesitate. Crawling out he got up and walked perfectly towards you without wobbling from the difference in upper and lower body, further setting in stone that he was abandoned and hadn’t just picked up things he knew about society by simply watching.

He sat in front of you, holding out his hands politely. You hand over the rest, smiling when he thanked you. Unable to resist, you give his hand a pat. His tail wags, ears drooping slightly as he munched happily.

~~~~~~

Why was this bed so big. There was a name for this kind of bed, alaskan emperor or something? Well, whatever the name was, it was massive. You take a seat on it. This was the most comfortable bed you had ever felt in your life. Flopping back, you feel your body sink into the cloudy mattress. The fox centaur you’d befriended hopped on next to you. He rolled around, suddenly energetic. You smile, watching him go about his zoomies.

He jumped on your belly. You grunted at the sudden weight on you.

He’s grinning down at you, tail a tornado of white behind him. He wants to play. And you want to play, but the energy just isn’t there. So you try to calm him down. Reaching up you massage his ears, hoping he’d calm down with some petting. However this doesn’t help in the slightest. Instead he turns his head and playfully bites your fingers.

Being a child he doesn’t always realize how easy it is to hurt others. He hasn’t lost all of his baby teeth yet and were still very sharp. You let out an “ah!” feeling the pointy teeth nick your finger, leaving you with a tiny cut.

“Silver, you need to be careful. Humans don’t have skin as tough as mine.” a voice chuckled overhead. You freeze. Gazing slowly turning upward, you see bright red eyes gazing down from the ceiling. You’re frozen in place until the huge creature drops down. You sat up so fast your new friend was nearly sent flying.

It stood up, the humanoid half resting it’s forearms on its big leathery black wings. It was so big it wasn’t able to stand at full height, and its hair so long it pooled to the ground. A grin showing off sharp fangs morphed across its face seeing your shocked pikachu face.

“Good evening,” the creature greeted, walking forward on its wings to stand in front of you “are you the new owner?”

~~~~~~

The fae’s name was Lilia, he was a vampire bat centaur. The little foxboy was his adopted son Silver, an arctic fox centaur. According to Lilia they’d settled down here to use this place as a temporary home until the stormy weather went away. Lilia didn’t want his son to get sick from the coming rain so he’d found this place for them to hide away. He had thought it was abandoned until your uncle had suddenly come to clean up. They were originally going to just stay hidden in a different room but he hadn’t expected you to arrive so soon.

The whole time Lilia was explaining their situation Silver was still hyper. He had popped back into his fox form, having reached his limit, and was currently playing footsies with your hand, occasionally hopping around on the huge ass bed behind you. You still weren’t over how big it was.

“If it isn’t too much trouble, I hope you’ll allow us to stay for the time being. We’ll be gone as soon as the weather clears up.” The fae smiled as Silver climbed into your lap a final time, curling up. It was time for bed, he was all tuckered out. “Silver seems to really like you too, he’ll keep you company if you’ll allow it.”

“Stay as long as you want.” you say, gently moving Silver off your lap, “this place is too big for me. I’m only here because I got lucky. I don’t care what you do so long you don’t cause trouble.” Lilia tilts his head at you, eyes gleaming as he watches you get up and walk to the large fireplace on the other side of the room.

Taking a match out of the box left by your uncle, you lit and tossed it onto the wood. To your surprise the fire was a dirty white instead of the usual red and orange. Your uncle had enchanted the wood to never burn away. That explained why there weren't any other logs nearby.

You hear the floorboards creak. Lilia had returned to hanging from the ceiling. Now that you knew he was up there, you had a feeling of uneasiness. Fae centaur were known to be very aggressive if not handled properly, and it was a huge risk to bring in any wild born ones into a household. You constantly glanced up at him. His eyes never left you, unblinking as he observed you undress and prepare for bed. He grinned whenever he noticed you looking at him, waving at you with a wing.

Crawling into your enormous bed, you realize you won’t be able to sleep. The fireplace was too far for the warmth to reach you. The rain had started by now so even if you bundled yourself up as much as possible you would still be cold. With a sigh you grab a pillow and the blankets, leaving the warmest for Silver. You did your best to make a nest next to the fire. The wooden floor would definitely make your body sore come morning. You curl up in your makeshift bed, trying to get comfy.

~~~~~~

From the ceiling the fae observed you, watching you leave his son the warmest blanket despite him not having any need for it. He watched you toss and turn for a couple hours before finally drifting off to sleep.

He shook his head, silly human. Centaurs are much more equipped to survive in the wild than humans. Quietly dropping down, he gathered you in his arms and used his magic to levitate the blankets back to the bed.

“Hm, this won’t do…” he thought, he was much too big for the bed. The frame would break under his weight. Setting you down, he uses his magic to become smaller.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve taken this form.” Lilia thinks, picking up Silver in his arms. Carefully he envelopes you in both his wings. Your head ends up on his furry belly, Silver snuggled under your chin.

Lilia strokes your head, smiling when you bury your face further into his second stomach. You poor child, thrown away for simply being magicless. There was no need to worry, he’ll make sure you’re watched over from now on.

[stationary-cycle-in-motion]

@augusnippets day 21: alt. prompt flashback

tw: gaslighting, emotional abuse

There is a full-scale blizzard raging beyond the Palace walls. Rex is of the opinion that letting Senator Amidala die from hypothermia is just as much a failure on his part as leaving her behind to fall prey to the droids, so, instead of facing the kinetic unknown, he turns toward the mountain the Palace is half carved out of.

“I suggest we hunker down in one of the caves and wait for the generals to find us,” he shouts over the screaming wind.

“I suggest we find cover before those clankers can pick off the rest of us,” he shouts over the ear-splitting boom that rocks the valley floor. Somehow, the explosion isn’t quite loud enough to drown out the dull thuds of armored, lifeless bodies hitting the ground.  General Skywalker huffs. “C’mon, Rex. It’s just a few hundred droids. Nothing we can’t handle, right?” His shiny blue blade slices through clankers with ease, twirling in a convoluted dance, the general dodging and weaving in tandem without even breaking a sweat. Rex’s helmet is so full of perspiration he may as well be drowning in it, but he grits his teeth against the protest that threatens to slip out. It isn’t his place to question his general’s tactics. Besides, he trusts General Skywalker; he always comes through in the end.

“Good thinking, Captain,” Senator Amidala answers.

Rex blinks. He hadn’t been expecting the senator to agree with him, though he’s not sure why.

The cave is small, a bit claustrophobic for his taste, but it’ll have to do. As they slink into the measly depths of their shelter, Senator Amidala stumbles, hisses through her teeth. A hand on the wall, she balances precariously on one foot as she lifts the hem of her dress.

“Are you alright, Senator?” Rex asks, dread seeping into his bones as he watches her examine her ankle because he was supposed to protect her, he should’ve been paying more attention, it’s his fault–

General Skywalker hisses through his teeth, sharp, as Kix wraps the bandage tight around his shoulder. “Let’s attack the factory on foot, they’ll never see us coming,” he mocks. “Yeah, great idea, Rex.” Rex resists the urge to point out that he had suggested a stealth approach, and that it was the general who wanted to march the troops parade-style through the valley. Now isn’t the time to be petty. The general doesn’t mean anything by it, anyway. Rex would be just as irate if he’d nearly got his one good arm shot off.

Senator Amidala shakes her head, offers him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, I think I only twisted it.”

For some reason, that doesn’t make him feel any less guilty.

The two of them get a fire going to stave off the chill, burning scraps from the senator’s dress, and when Rex thinks it might finally be safe to set up the locator beacon, he extracts it from his belt, flicks the switch.

Then, he curses.

“What is it?”

“The signal’s too weak. It won’t reach through the rock and snow.”

Senator Amidala frowns. “Will it work if we get it beyond the cave?”

“Out into the blizzard, you mean?” Rex says, a little ruefully. Wincing, he rushes to correct his slight. “Theoretically, yes. Realistically, I don’t like our chances of survival. It only takes a couple of minutes for hypothermia to set in.”

“Alright, someone’s gotta go out there and draw their fire while I lead a squad around to the back entrance.” Rex is already shaking his head before the general even finishes his sentence. “I don’t like our chances. There are too many droids on the door. We should–” “That wasn’t a request, Rex!” General Skywalker’s glare is almost cold, but that’s just the pressure of the mission getting to him. It’s getting to all of them. “Find someone to get it done.” Pushing down the anger simmering in his chest, Rex eyes the door, levels his blasters. Because there’s no way in hell he’s going to send the shinies on this suicide run.

There’s an odd look on the senator’s face, something that might be pity, or perhaps an emotion entirely unfamiliar to him. Her slender fingers dance across the beacon’s form, and Rex is reminded, jarringly, of makeup brushes and serenity.

He almost wants to laugh. He'd been a fool to hope the day would end in anything other than utter disaster.

Senator Amidala's face hardens in resolve. “I’ll do it.”

“No!” Rex snatches the beacon from her grip, his fingers grazing her knuckles as he does. “I'll do it,” he says, and it's not quite a snarl, but it's a near thing.

Because someone has to risk their life for this, and that someone sure as hell isn’t going to be the senator.

[phoebenavarro]

into the woods and out of the woods (a w.bg ficlet)

Mike said he doesn't like Into the Woods and I just knew I had to write something with Mikey and Edgar arguing about musicals, so have a ficlet

woe.begone, mikey/edgar, fluff, 668 words

crossposted to ao3 here

Mikey knocks on the door to Edgar’s office in Base and pokes his head in. 

“Hey babe, you working?” 

Edgar looks up from his monitor. “No, actually, you caught me on a break. Hey, come in for a second. What do you think about taking a trip to New York?” 

Mikey comes into the office and closes the door behind him. “New York? Like, City? Uh, not super crazy about being stuck in the crowds.” 

Edgar knows his Mikey’s idea of a great vacation is more along the lines of staying in a cabin in the middle of nowhere and cuddle in bed, but that’s basically every night they spend together in one of their cabins at OVER. He beckons Mikey to come back around the desk and look at his screen. 

“Me neither, really, but… There’s a revival of Into the Woods on Broadway right now. We could take a calculator and have a nice weekend together, away from Base.” 

“Babe,” Mikey whines, leaning down next to Edgar to see the website for the production. “You know I don’t like Into the Woods.” 

“Not this again,” Edgar says, smiling fondly.

“It’s not my fault you have bad taste in musicals,” Mikey grumbles. 

“Come on, Mikey Bear, you yourself have said it’s not a bad musical. You just don’t like it, and that is perfectly okay with me.” He turns to Mikey, and since Mikey’s face is level with his, he pecks him on the cheek. 

Mikey screws up his face in consideration, color rushing to his cheeks. “I mean, I think it would be sacrilegious against the musical theatre gods or whatever to call any Sondheim musical bad.” 

“Yeah, you’d probably get struck by lightning,” Edgar jokes. “Or you’d get attacked by an angry theatre kid, and I’m not sure which is worse.” 

Mikey laughs. “I’ll take the lightning.” 

Edgar grins. That’s his Bear. “You have to admit, it is objectively one of the best musicals of all time.” 

“Please,” Mikey rolls his eyes. “It’s not even one of Sondheim’s best musicals. Not even top three.” 

Edgar raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And tell me, Bear, what is Sondheim’s best work, in your estimation?” 

“Gladly,” Mikey says, puffing up his chest. “Obviously, it’s Assassins.” 

Edgar has now raised both eyebrows. “Interesting choice.” 

“The way the music captures the musical era of each assassin is really incredible, and it’s a concept show that actually works.” He smirks to himself. “Take notes, Andrew Lloyd Webber.” 

“While I do think that Cats has it’s charms, I won’t argue with you there.” 

“If by ‘charms', you mean ‘Skimbleshanks the Railway cat,’ then yes, I agree completely.” 

Edgar rolls his eyes lovingly. “That was the one good scene in that equally boring and horrifying adaptation. C’mon, it’s not like I’m asking you to go see that again. And you have said that my affection for Into the Woods makes you like it more…” 

“That doesn’t mean I want to spend a hundred dollars per ticket to see it on Broadway,” Mikey says, but Edgar can tell his resistance is crumbling. 

“Not even for me? For my birthday, maybe?” Edgar bats his eyelashes at him. 

Mikey fixes an indignant scowl on his face. “You’re a menace.” 

“Maybe we can have the best of both worlds, Bear. We’ll go to New York, see Into the Woods, and then we’ll see if we can find a professional production of Assassins in this time period. I mean, there has to be, I’ll do some research.” 

Mikey sighs. Edgar knows he’d do anything for him, including sitting through Into the Woods. The things he does for love. “Fine, that sounds reasonable.” 

“Wonderful! And did I mention, Sara Bareilles is in it?” 

“Uh, no, you absolutely should have lead with that, Panther!” 

Edgar laughs. “Sorry, babe.” 

“We could have skipped the whole persuading thing, it really would have been much more efficient.” 

“But now I know you’re doing it because you love me, so I think that’s a win.” 

[bluiex]

Cw: Mind Control but tis consensual

Elf Scar loves his boyfriends okay, he just wants them to take care of themselves.

Mainly Scarian, if you guy want Mumbo just ask :)

-

Watching them today wasn’t as great as it should be. The obvious bags under their eyes, the tires slump of the shoulders, and barely any acknowledge to the world around them. Grian was the worst for it, always moving around and never stopping. Mumbo was coming at a close second as he was tirelessly working on his base.

Both his pretty boys were exhausted, humans were so fragile compared to elves. They could often forget just how breakable they were. Scar hated to see his loves so exhausted, and when simple coaxing wasn’t working… well he could take matters into his own hands.

“Gri please come to bed with me.” Scar muttered into the bird man’s shoulder. The harpy grumbled and shrugged him off.

“Scar I’m so close to finishing this. Just let me do that.” He mumbled rubbing his eyes, the slight red look to them from lack of sleep.

Scar huffed at that, he disliked how Grian ignored gentle probing. But, he had permission, and he would get Grian to take care of himself.

Names held power in Elf and Fey worlds. And Scar looked at Grian, and spoke softly his true name.

The effect was almost instant, meaning Grian didn’t have the energy to fight him. The foggy look over his eyes as Scar’s magic rooted in. The tension of the shoulders fades away.

“Oh gosh dear, that was fast.” Scar cooed “Mumbo at least had some energy to say something.” He reached out petting the others cheeks and feathered ears.

Grian could only coo under his hands, leaning into them with a dazed expression. A faint humming sound, as Scar chuckled “You really wanted to be mindless for the day huh?”

Another purring coo, a smile that had no thoughts to it. The magic rushed over Grian, numbing his body and fogging his head. Only Scar mattered, just his voice cut through the haze of his mind.

Charm speak was often used on other creatures to get them to agree to thing. Elves would pretty their voice up, and coax out your name. Then speak it back to claim you, body, heart, mind, and soul. A name was everything to magic beings. And Scar adored his mates gave him theirs.

“That’s it Grian.” A softer version of his full name, etching a sigh from Grian. Please speak his name more, again, please say it. That voice was so wonderful, so beautiful, Grian wanted to belong to that voice. “Just let your thoughts fade away, only my voice matters. Let yourself be a good boy and nothing else matters.”

He was right, Scar was all that mattered. Obeying was simple, Grian felt exhausted. Thinking was too much work, his thoughts felt like ripples on a still pond. Fading in and out, never really grasping them for long. And Scar’s voice soothed any worries about that.

“Follow me, my pretty bird, no need to think jsut hold my hand and I’ll guide you to Mumbo… and we can rest together… isn’t that good?”

Yes, that was so good. Grian felt everything fade around him, a hand in his the only grounding he had. The world wasn’t there, it was just Scar’s voice, his fade, his lips, his beautiful eyes.

Scar watched the last threads of resistance fade away. The calm, dreamy smile on Grian’s face. The only thing in that head of his was obeying commands. Mindless and obedient. It was honestly cute, and Scar adored the trust they gave him.

Taking his hand and leading him to his base. Where he’d pamper him along with Mumbo. A long rest together, the three of them curled up. And a day just to relax. Preening the awful looking feathers, soothing the soreness out of Mumbo’s shoulders, and letting them brush out his long hair.

“You two deserve all the things I can give you… so let me spoil you both.” Scar cooed to his mates holding them close. Listening to Mumbo’s soft breaths and Grian coos.

Scar enjoyed being the one in charge sometimes.

UWAH YES PERFECT. I love it qoq. How I I invision it where they are okay with Scar using his powers to get them to actually rest and relax <3

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 14: Heartbeat (Free Space)

Fandom: SWTOR

Pairing:  Theron Shan/Smuggler (on pause at the moment for reasons that will become obvious)

Time: Carbonite Years

Rating:  T, mostly for one Trant f-bomb at the end

Words: ~1880 (Ok, I let the feels get to me on this one)

~~

The air conditioning ducts were a tighter fit than anticipated.  ...that was true of a lot of things, these days.

Theron gagged on some dust that had escaped the filters of his respirator, but he kept pushing forward.

Trant’s voice came in. “Left at the next junction.  That should put you within range of the terminal.  From there, you can slice in.  Are you sure --?”

“The intel was good,” Theron insisted through grit teeth.  He was not going to get stuck in here, and his slice was going to be successful.   It had to be.

A nascent resistance depended upon it, and Trant didn’t even know it.

Sure, Trant was fully cognizant of the fact that he was leading Theron through the long-neglected ventilation system of some ancient Zakuul office building.  He was well-aware that Theron had received intel that there was a data package left behind on the network.  Yes, it would help the Republic black ops against Zakuul…given the fact that Marcus Trant and Theron Shan were the only members of that operational corps, the data wasn’t travelling far.  

But Trant didn’t know about Lana Beniko and her Great Idea.  Theron had an agenda beyond the one Trant knew about.

“You should be right under it.  There a vent nearby you can fit your droid through?”

“Yeah.”  Theron reached back to pull out his magnetic screwdriver set and went to work at wiggling the slats of the vent open just wide enough.

That done, Theron deployed a remote droid, one specially modified by him.  He could control it with his implants, and its sensors were so fine that it could replicate his own slice work – if he could think clearly enough. The high-quality holo cam he mounted on it (at ridiculous prices, given the Zakuulan crushing of the economy) made it possible for him to port the image to his ocular implants; it was like being right there in front of the terminal himself.  

Given the fact that this terminal was on an antenna platform that was several hundred feet in the air in the Spire, it was highly recommended that Theron not attempt to be there in person.

(Though he probably would have tried it, if he was… yikes, ten years younger)

(And…if he was physically in better condition…)

Theron pushed those intrusive thoughts away as he activated the high-quality cam on the droid to help it scurry its way up to the terminal.  Once the droid was able to activate its anchors, carefully, Theron was finally able to move in the ventilation shaft without worrying about dropping the droid off the top of the building and probably killing someone on the street.

With a grunt and few moments of strain, he managed to get all of his limbs straightened out.  Using his glove grips and his toe picks, Theron managed to get a hold on the ceiling of the shaft he was in and slide along his back toward the last air exchange he’d mapped.  He … he needed space.

As he pushed himself into the larger space of the exchange, he let himself go limp in exhaustion. Roughly he tugged at the zipper of his tac suit pulling it down.  He wasn’t as bad as he was that one time he sliced an Imperial destroyer, but he was hot and sweaty –

“Hey, Theron, your vitals –”

“I know, I.. I had to maneuver.”  Theron cringed at the sound of his voice, making excuses.

…It was Theron’s first external mission since Ziost.

He’d gone up two tac suit sizes in the intervening years.

Some of it was the alcohol.  A significant part was the fact he’d given up the fitness regiment he’d had since he was a youngling.

And some of it was grief.

What was the point, after the Republic knuckled under to Zakuul?

Rather than get Zakuul’s boot off the Republic’s throat, Saresh focused on the Sith Empire, which was suffocating just like they were.

But she had willing counterparts to play that game over on the Imperial side, so the war between the Sith Empire and the Republic had continued, even as Zakuul ruled over both.

(There was another source for the grief, something deeper than he wanted to acknowledge.  He batted it away.  Not now.)

Theron was disgusted. With Saresh.  With the Republic that let her get away with it.  With himself for giving up and just going through the motions, hoping to make it to 36 years, 10 months and 8 days so he could collect his pension and –

Do what?

Nothing good.  Nothing meaningful.  That was the story of the last two years.  

And then came Lana and her Great Idea.

Her demand for a man on Coruscant mentally and physically capable for the mission.

And with it… news. The first good news since… he didn’t know when.  

And now he was going to test that news, because he didn’t have faith in anything now.

No matter how good it seemed, Theron suspected it wasn’t true.

It was too good.  For him.  For what he’d become.  He didn’t deserve that sort of… luck.  That… whatever it had been, what could be again.   That second chance.

Trant had been all too willing to join him on this misguided crusade.  He was restless too.

Theron knew Trant would help him resist Zakuul.  They’d screw up things, thwart transports, inconvenience their conquerors.  But that was going to be a war of two against an entire Empire.  It would never be enough.

Theron wanted something more.  

And so he let the little droid do its work, slicing into the Zakuul network, bypassing the defenses that would have infected it with a virus that would have resulted in a complete bricking.   (Theron knew what to watch for now.)  Theron leaned his head back into the dust, letting it stick to his neck and hair, damp with sweat.  He closed his eyes.  Then he let his implants trigger the deep dive into the remote droid’s system.  The last part would be tricky – the data cache had been stashed in a tight space to ensure it would remain until the proper recipient found it.

Theron believed he was the man it was left for.  

Just as the data spike carefully drew the packet just so, clear off the Zakuul network, it seemed to spring to life –

“Theron, you did it. I got – stars, the data.  It’s… it’s the Spire.  It’s a map, it’s the public transport it’s – oh god, it’s everything.”

Thank you, tiny omnitool.

Theron exhaled deeply. Mission success, for the first time in so goddamn long.  

But there was one more thing.  

Theron directed the slice toward one particular physical address.  He’d demanded it from Lana for tonight.

Because he had to know.

“Theron, you read me?”

“Yeah.”

“You ok?”

“Yeah.”

“… you stuck?”

“No!” Theron said, a little too loudly.  “Gotta do something.  Going silent.”

Then he killed the comm between him in Trant.  He even took his own comms implant offline.  Now he was all about the dive, all about the place he was going in his mind…

Two levels of encryption. Easy, now.  He’d practiced for weeks before coming here.

Security.

Storage.

Med data, storage unit.

Theron sent a little signal scurrying down the line, wanting a view –

He got it.  Security holo cam, aimed right at –

Too still.  Too quiet.   The lights could lie.  Nobody would know until it was too late.

Theron felt his own pulse quicken, he could practically see the blood pressure numbers rising as the slice through continued, layer after layer until –

Cardiopulmonary.

Monitoring.

Theron opened his eyes, sightless in the darkness of the carbonite chamber.

Theron yanked his respirator off, as if that would make it harder to hear him.  

He called out for her, once.

“Eva?”

He waited.

He waited.

He waited.

He waited.

He waited.

And then.

A beat. Two parts. Slow.

But that was an unmistakeable human heartbeat, sluggish and slow though it was.

Theron counted to five again, in his head.

There was again.

“Eva.”  Theron wanted to laugh – she was alive. 

He wanted to sob.  She was here and had been here for over two years.

He did both, and he couldn’t help the words that spilled out of him.  She couldn’t hear him – he knew that (no, he didn’t.  Maybe she could).

“I—I’m here.  I’m finally… I’m so sorry --!”  His pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes sockets, trying to hold himself together.  His knees bent, the soles of his boots on the ventilation shaft floor.  He tried to take a deep breath.  “Everything’s fallen apart since you’ve been gone.  We’re… we’re gonna put it back together again.  Fix it all.  And –”

Theron could feel vibrations on his wrist.  It was probably Trant probably trying to get through to him over his personal comm, desperately, because his vitals were all over the place.

“—and we’re going to get you out of there.  I – I still got your ship, Eva,” Theron shakily reassured her.  “You – you got everyone out of Wild Space.  They’re fine, I swear to the gods, and I’ll find them for you.”   Theron tried to swallow, his mouth and throat dry, lips now covered in a fine layer of grime.  “I’ll do anything for you.  To get you back.  I don’t deserve you, but everything seems so dark without you…”

A single thought crystalized in Theron’s head. He’d always known it in his head, he supposed.  But now he knew it in every part of his body.

“I… have so much I want to say to you.  But we’re gonna get you out, and I want you to be wide awake for this, all right?”  Theron hoarsely chuckled at himself as he dragged his tac gloves across his eyes, trying to rid himself of the tears and the dirt before he had to face Trant again.  “I’ve … I’ve got to go.  But… if you can hear me  -- I didn’t forget you.  Not for a damn second.”

He wished he had, so many times.

He never could.

Now he was pleased to confess –

Theron listened once, heard the slow beat again, and then put his tac gear pieces that he’d shed back on.

Then he reopened comms with Trant.  “Situation resolved.  I’m fine.”

There was silence and static.

And then:  “hOly FUCK Shan I swear on the Emperor’s black bones that I thought you ended up like some poor goddamn cat that got stuck in my aunt’s walls when I was a kid –”

Theron could not stop the laughter as Trant went off.   “Are you hearing this?” he asked Eva.

Another heartbeat.  Theron sighed and lay back in the filth as he let Trant vent for a few more minutes.

~

@fluffyfebruary @ayresis @ermingarden @starlightcleric @bluephoenix1347

[theartofruling]

Jacen resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the wolf joke. But he gave a dry chuckle to humor the other man anyway. The rest in pieces line did make him laugh though. It made him wonder if this was who he truly was. A man who would laugh at the violence he committed and the life he took. “Have you known many Alpha’s?” He asked, skeptically. “And what exactly qualifies me as your favorite?” He was skeptical about that considering her felt unqualified for the job. Jacen nodded in understanding of the history between him and Westland’s leader. “I mean having beef with a realms leader, can make it an issue realm to realm. It means politically he won’t trust the realm by extension of who leads it.”

Jacen shrugged. “The people know I’m honest with them. If it doesn’t come from me, they know it. They just don’t want to get caught up in some shit that doesn’t have our best interest at heart.”  When the conversation moved back to Westland, he nodded. “I can give it a try. I think there’s some common ground that he could trust me on. I will keep that to myself, because I’m not so sure if I trust you fully yet. Someone I care about trusts you, so that gives you the benefit of the doubt with me.” He wouldn’t tell him about his connection to Damien through Geneva. He’d keep that to himself, and keep her out of the crosshairs of potentially being used against him. “Let’s just say I have some credibility with him that would get me the benefit of the doubt and him willingness to hear me out.” 

That was the majority of his life, sadly. “Yeah. That was exactly how shit was. Keeping my head down. Doing what I needed to do. So it wasn’t living it was more existing.” He grinned thinking about his son. “I’m working on a personal pack. But the first step is my son. Being a parent is…scary as fuck and great all at the same time. Gives my life more meaning than it had before.”

-😈-

Bear laughed, the apples of his cheeks rose and the corners of his eyes fell into amused slits in reaction to the resounding question. "A straight shooter. Or is it biter, since we're in Eastland?" The joke might not have landed at all, especially to the wolf king as the full moon neared. Let alone to the Alpha who rose to power due to Bear's realm's literal interference. "And nah, your last alpha was Ted's guy. It's why you killed him. May he rest in pieces." Finnian muttered as a throw away as he briefly remembered his old war general. "I know you don't believe it yet." Or might not ever, that much Bear knew could occur too. "But you are my favorite Alpha." Finnian's eyes spun in their sockets at Jacen's comment on Westland distrusting his realm. "It's not all of them. Hell, we house their rejects. It's Jakovan, specifically. Me and him were never friends. But he married Wren after I... betrayed both Rowan and Southland. He blames me for making shit more difficult for him, with them. So no, it's not political. The Dark World hasn't done anything directly to Westland. We actually stay out of their damned business. Their High Priest just has a tender and bitter ass heart..." Bear shared.

When the Alpha mentioned that, once again, Eastland no longer moved of it own accord, he met Jacen's gaze. "Look, I know this is a shitty position. Yeah, you're the Alpha here but I've tied your hands. I'm sure your people wonder if your words are even your own or that if they look hard enough, they can see my hand up your ass, feeding you what to say." Bear paused, jaw lowering but for a moment, no words left him. "I don't wanna harm Eastland any more than I already have. As for Westland, and you talking to Jakovan. I think you should. I think he won't trust you 'cause you're connected to me. And he doesn't fucking trust me at all. But your realms share a border. He's not that stupid to ignore you. If you could, do you know what you would promise him? Or how you'd try to reassure him?"

"Is that how you lived before? In what-ifs that floated away?" Bear blinked, looking Jacen over. "Co-parenting? Damn, you already have a pack of your own too? How's that?"

[hotwings0203]

The idea of being in an argument w your yandere or being upset while in a car w them is SO hot

Like I’m thinking of some psycho like dabi or a conceited narcissist like bakugo in this situation, maybe it’s not even a yandere but def a crazy possessive dude who has serious issues. I guess you could do a guy like hawks, whose great in public and seriously pent up at home. Maybe even shigaraki, a guy whose not necessarily strong and intimidating from the outside, but whose eerie presence and potential keeps you in line

Tw:noncon, kidnapping, dubcon

Imagine he takes you out after a long time of being cooped up at home, being preoccupied physically yet mentally in a catatonic state as they show you the only use you have is underneath them. They finally agree to take you out to a friends’ party at a bar once your tears never seem to stop after a couple of days.

They look at you curled up on the bed like a scorned cat, your legs tucked up in a fetal position as you glare at them from underneath the tiny open pocket in the blanket you seek refuge in. The tears in your eyes shine in the dim candlelight of the dark room, akin to a cat’s eyes flashing as it remains crouched from behind the shadows.

“Can you stop being such a fucking brat and just come shower with me already?” He drones, dragging a hand down his face and sighing in exasperation as you glower and flip the other way, effectively cutting the conversation off. For a couple days now you’ve been putting up more resistance than usual, and while he finds it cute that you think you can evade him for that long, it’s annoying fighting tooth and nail to force you to be close to him, much to your chagrin.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as his scowl lines grow deeper. He’s annoyed, but he knows he’s being unfair. He’s been selfish, moving too fast for you even though he has so many more plans to keep you here forever than you know to the point where he’s realized you might seriously start to consider putting distance between you two.

Hah. As if he’d ever let you try that shit.

And so, one promise of coaxing you out of your “impenetrable fortress” of bed material leads to him agreeing to finally let you see your friends again.

Anything works if it means you’ll semi-willingly and very begrudgingly approach him.

He misses your smile, your laughter, the bright light you provide in his eternal void that caves in so deep inside of him that it swallows him inside out.

You look beautiful, he can’t lie, and he watches you sway to the music in your red dress. Truth be told, he’s glad you whined when he said no to it originally. It shows too much skin, yeah, but fuck he’d be damned if he didn’t admit the way your arms extend above your head so elegantly makes his heart ache.

Your hips rocking side to side in sync with the crooning tunes playing above makes his dick harder than it’s been since the last time he had you pinned beneath him, and he wants nothing more than to drag you by your cascading hair and fuck you up against the bathroom stalls like the teasing slut you are.

But his mood rapidly plummets as he notices a group of friends he vaguely recognizes slink up next to you, joining your movements and linking hands with you.

Hands that flutter around your curves, hands that aren’t his traveling up and down your sides, against the silk you’re in and dangerously close to places he’s meticulously claimed as his own.

But if that wasn’t enough by itself, when his eyes widen and he starts making his way around the bar counter to glare at you and to get the message of distance across, you…

You roll your eyes and turn away from him.

You fucking bitch.

Who do you think you are?

Enough is enough.

Without any more provocation, your enraged captor/lover storms through the crowd, shoving bodies aside and uncaring about knocking shoulders with people who cry out indignantly at his uncouth mannerisms.

From the corner of your eye you watch as a familiar head stalks it’s way to you, and by the time you’ve turned and witnessed the scene he’s making as he comes towards you, you’re scrambling backwards and tripping over your own dress.

But it’s too late, too little to acknowledge his presence as he pushes up against you and snarls in your face, “Playtime’s over slut. Did you enjoy all the attention? Shit, if you wanted some dick all you had to do was say so.”

You whimper in fear and desperately look around the party for anyone to come and intervene, but suddenly the music seems to be louder and the eyes that were previously on you and your little spat have turned to inspect the floor and around the room.

No one’s crazy enough to save you from what’s coming.

“Please! It hurts, let go! ___, stop fucking pulling me!” You yell through tears as your nails dig into his wrist.

He pays you no mind, pulling you through the mostly empty lot as a color red darker than your dress clouds his eyes, the image of you dancing like a whore while ignoring him playing in his mind on repeat.

His grip tightens marginally but you squeal all the less.

“What the fucks your problem? What, you can’t stand me having fun for more than 5 minutes without butting your crooked nose into it-“

This is the most you’ve spoken in over weeks, but he can’t find it in him to feel grateful as you falter when he yanks open the car door and practically throws you in the passenger seat.

Before you can even straighten yourself upright in the seat, he’s already rounded the car and locked the doors. You open your mouth to fire off another round of insults when he starts talking in a low, barely controlled voice.

“When we go home, your phone, laptop, keys, and any electronic you have is out the fucking window. You wanna act like the child? You wanna be a brat who can’t stay in her lane and be grateful? I’ll show you what happens when you act like one.”

Your agape mouth curls back in fear as he turns to face you, his enraged leer taking up the entirety of his face, his eyes gleaming with malice more than usual. His knuckles on the steering wheel are bone-white as he turns sharply this way and that, jostling you in your seat.

“You-you can’t do that. You’re not my goddamn father-“

“The hell I am, I’m your fucking daddy for all you know. After the shit you pulled tonight? I’m gonna act like one too.”

Your lip trembles as he continues in a growl, the streets blurring and starting to go by faster as he works himself up with terrible promises.

“-bend you over on my knee, beat your ass black and blue like how you wanted right? This was all for attention? Well, you got my fucking attention you cock-hungry whore.”

Your heart drops because you know the difference between his empty threats and his real ones.

He never has empty promises.

“I’m gonna tie you up and gag you with your own panties, would you like that, huh slut? You wanna be treated like my bad little girl?”

You sob and turn to the window as he shoves one hand in between your legs, groping harshly at your thin-lace panties and pressing his thumb near where you clit is.

“Nah. Nah, don’t fight me off now baby, I’m just playing your game. Look at me when I’m talking to you, the same way you look at me when you’re taking my dick so fucking deep.”

Your efforts to squeeze your legs together are thwarted as his massive hand pinches the meat of your thighs, forcing you to open up.

Your chest heaves as you gaze blankly out the window, your heart suddenly jumping when you realize he’s going 120 in a 50 lane.

“W-wait, please, slow down you’re going too fast.”

He booms with laughter and starts jerking the car left and right, doing nothing but increasing the speed 10 more miles up.

“Why, does this scare you? Are you scared, little girl?” His lip curls back into a deadly grin as he takes his eyes off the (thankfully) mostly empty highway and stares at you, your knees tucked away from him into the side of the car door. Your dress is askew and teasing a glimpse of your inner thighs due to his perverse ministrations before, your mascara running down your face.

You look like you got a good fucking, and he can’t help but to adjust his straining boner in his pants as he blatantly leers at you, his lip in between his teeth as he takes you in.

You’re terrified at his lack of attention on the road at the speed he’s going, so scared that your throat chokes up and all you can do is gape and point a trembling hand at the road.

“The! R-road, look!” You cough out and curl your hand against the armrest, your fingers tightening in preparation for the worst.

“Hey, you’re the one who brought this on yourself. This is what you get for ignoring me and breaking my trust. I have half a mind to pimp you out since I’m such a good boyfriend and all you want is attention.” His voice is airy and light but trembling with rage still. Just to turn things up a notch and to really teach you a lesson, he turns the radio on all the way to full and starts suddenly cutting across four lanes of empty road, then speeding back to his previous lane, and then again.

“Fucking stop! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please slow down!” You shriek, closing your eyes and bracing your body for impact.

But miraculously, he slows down and ceases the lane-swerving.

Your blood pounds in your ears and you grasp the sides of your dizzy head as you heave fast breaths. Your whole body is shaking, and you feel like you’re gonna puke as it takes a few minutes to calm down and stop an impending panic attack.

By the time you lift your head up from your knees and gotten a hold of your surroundings, you realize with a pang of shock that he’s already parked in some secluded woods area, and plopped you in the backseat.

“Finally, you said something. ‘Was wondering how long we’d live from the way you were forcing me to drive.”

You glance up and flinch at the way he looks.

The car is turned off, the moonlight behind him illuminating his silhouette and eerily only letting the whites of his eyes shine bright with mocking anticipation.

It’s befitting for him, he thinks, that the area he picked is dark and littered with giant trees that look overhead. The only light in this void that is so reminiscent of himself is one that he allows to come through, light that he lets you see, and that he takes as well.

You’ll shine as bright as he allows so.

“And now, for your lesson, little slut.”

*******

IM GONNA DO A PART TWO SOON SINCE I LIKED THIS ONE HEHEHEH

[fuwushiguro]

Hi love can I request number 35 and dabi for your ask game 🥰

Notes: anything for u my beloved!! I haven't written anything for a while so sorry if I'm a lil rusty 💕

Warnings: degradation, exhibitionism, fingering, slight dacryphilia.

Dabi x f!Reader

Dabi likes to keep a watchful eye on the goings on regarding the Todoroki family. Namely, Endeavour. He enjoys slinking away from the league to do work of his own, and sometimes he follows through with that. But more often than not, he’s spying on his father.

He waits patiently outside of Endeavour’s hero agency, where a multitude of hero sidekicks and assistants are employed. He’s sure he’d be among those ranks if he had been good enough, perfect enough.

But that spot is reserved strictly for Shoto Todoroki.

The perfect final product of Endeavour’s own creation. The first year UA student who will go on to mass acclaim and success. The boy wonder who has what he worked so hard for. He interns at the Endeavour agency with two other familiar faces from the hero course. And the trio notices something that he too had also spotted whilst observing the building.

A few days ago, Dabi had noticed a sign in the window advertising for another hero to join the agency payroll. And now, there is a sidekick carefully pulling down that advertisement.

The vacancy has been filled.

Dabi shields himself more when he notices Endeavour heading towards the main entrance. He steps outside the building to greet the interns; with a beautiful woman in tow. His smile is beaming, the widest he’s seen since Shoto was born. His hand gestures indicate an introduction between the woman and the three young students. She shakes each other their hands with a wide, cheerful grin.

It's her. It’s you. You got the gig, huh? Promising young hero with a great look. You’ll be rising the ranks into the top ten in no time at all. Endeavour waves you off and ushers the students inside, Dabi suspects he’ll be telling you to arrive to the office bright and early for your first day.

You’re walking away. You’re walking closer, to him. He’s waiting patiently. Oh so patiently so that he can get his hands on you. You’re dressed the part of a hero. An asset to Endeavour. No wonder you aced the interview, looking like that. The red-headed fuck probably thinks he has a chance of using you as his own personal stress relief on the harder days of work; which roughly translates to all of them.

He hears your footsteps louder and louder. Closer and closer. You’re going to walk right by him, one of the most prolific criminals in Japan. So highly sought out and yet no one can seem to get a hold of him. You’re going to slip by him as if he isn’t even there.

“Ah—!” you yelp, unable to process what is happening before you’re already at the mercy of the endlessly scarred man. You’re being pinned against the wall and your mouth encased in a large palm to prevent you from drawing attention.

“It’s me, doll,” he states, cerulean eyes softening your rigid body. They’re pretty pools of comfort that transport you to another dimension. A portal to a world where Dabi isn’t a criminal, merely a victim of circumstance who you can’t help but desire to love and protect. He keeps his hand over your mouth, sticky gloss smearing all over his stapled palm. “I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist a hero dressed like a slut. We’re one in the same. He might be the number one hero, now, but he can’t help but think with his cock. He's supposed to be protecting people, sick fuck.”

You nod in agreement, eyes watery and emotional. They’re shaking in their sockets as you inspect the villain. His demeanour, his body language, just him. His vision trails off as he thinks. He always gets so lost in thought when his father is concerned. Reliving all that he went through and what lead him to this point. His vision snaps back when he hears you whimper beneath him.

“What kind of hero wears a miniskirt, huh? You wanna flash everyone your pretty panties while you’re fighting?” he queries, you shake your head in protest. He is the one who planned your costume. He is the one who insisted a small skirt would be the key. “You wanna show off to everyone what’s mine?” he wonders.

“Mm-mmm!” you hum, hoping it translates to a no. His fingers begin to trace delicately up your leg and towards the apex of your thighs. Your eyes scrunch closed when he reaches it, and he laughs lightly.

“No panties. Soaking wet pussy.” he states. You can’t help but cringe at his discovery, refusing to look him in the eye out of embarrassment. He scoffs lightly at your refusal to make eye contact with him. A problem quickly rectified when he plunges a singular finger into your dripping heat.

“Mmmpf!” you moan through your muzzle. He laughs lightly, and growls a little while he enjoys your perfect, gummy insides that feel so much like home.

“Aw, baby. Such a slutty cunt but she’s so God damn tight.” he tells you. Your nostrils flare as he quickly finds the point inside of you which will lead to your undoing. “Dressed like this and you’re all wet, just for me.”

He feels himself getting harder and harder the more he watches you. Your dumb, wanton expression and sparkling, tear-filled eyes getting the better of him. And you’re nodding, and he doubts you even know why. Is it because your pussy has been moulded perfectly for him? Or do you just like it when he calls you a slut? He knows he won’t be able to hold off for much longer. His cock is aching and there is no better cure than housing it in your walls and painting the insides.

“You look so good, can’t wait to absolutely ruin you.”

© 2022 fuwushiguro

feel free to send a prompt!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Relentless - chapter 3 - ao3

A/N: Note the warning tags on ao3 for this chapter

The children all took their seats.

Lan Qiren felt better at once. There was something about the familiarity of standing at the front of a classroom, facing a group of pupils that was comforting, no matter how perilous the circumstances.

“Hey, why do they need an assessment?” Wen Chao asked, pointing rudely at Lan Wangji, who looked offended. “Aren’t they your nephews? Wouldn’t you already know what their skills are?”

Lan Qiren quickly stepped between them to prevent another biting incident, and only barely made it – he could hear the quiet chomp of teeth clamping down on air behind him.

“They practice on their own time, and should be making progress even where I do not see it,” he said sternly, pretending not to have noticed. “Assessments are commonplace, as you will see. I do not pretend to be an easy instructor. But I guarantee that you will learn something from me, and in so learning have cause to be proud before Sect Leader Wen.”

Having their heart’s desire so clearly named worked wonders on both Wen Xu and Wen Chao, who submitted themselves to him at once. Under normal circumstances, Lan Qiren doubted that such a thing would have worked, and he still expected to meet with significant resistance once they started getting bored or impatient. Still, he thought that Wen Ruohan’s highly uncharacteristic laughing fit had won him at least half a month’s grace with those two, even if only because they were unreasonably impressed by him.

His own nephews were of course perfect pupils (Lan Wangji’s occasional attempts at biting aside), quite accustomed to Lan Qiren’s teaching style, and poor little Wen Ning was a mere shadow on the wall for all the personal presence he had. He was a quiet child, clearly accustomed to tagging along with his older sister – Wen Chao tried to tease him about it at one point, which Lan Qiren put a firm stop to. He would need to monitor that relationship, he thought to himself; it was evident that Wen Chao barely knew who Wen Ning was, despite the other boy’s nominal place as a ward of Wen Ruohan. The Nightless City was large, but not so large that such a thing could happen by accident. Someone had very clearly instigated distance and dislike between them – and Lan Qiren thought he knew who it was.

It was very unfortunately evident to Lan Qiren that he was going to need to deal with Wen Xu and Wen Chao’s mothers, Wen Ruohan’s little-seen wives, and he barely suppressed a groan at the mere thought of it. One of the great advantages of holding his lectures in the Cloud Recesses had been that he didn’t have to deal with his students’ parents except for when they came on to his territory – he’d never been in the uncomfortable position of being a guest in someone else’s home while teaching their children.

He was not looking forward to it.

At least he wasn’t disturbed while he was teaching. When Lan Qiren finished his initial assessment of their scholastic skills, he insisted that they lead him to the training grounds and show him what they could do on that front as well. His classes had traditionally focused on a scholar’s arts, not swordplay, but if his nephews were going to be stuck here for however long it took for Wen Ruohan to get bored of this farce, he would need to continue their training in the Lan sect style entirely by himself. The easiest way to carve out time for that would be to set it at the same time that the Wen boys did their own swordsmanship lessons, as well as in the mornings before anyone else woke up…

“I think that’s all for today,” he said, having put them all through their paces until they were panting, even Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji. He’d gone a bit hard, perhaps. “Wen Xu, Wen Chao, Wen Ning – I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Xichen, Wangji, we should retire to our quarters.”

“Yes, shufu,” his nephews chorused, while the Wen boys proceed to just lie down on the ground right where they’d been standing, signifying their joy at the lesson being done.

…hmm. Yes, it seemed he’d definitely gone a bit too hard.

He would need to make more of an effort to ensure that his annoyance with Wen Ruohan did not transfer to the boys, who didn’t deserve to be the targets of his irritation. And of course he wouldn’t allow for anything to harm his own nephews’ education, a fact which Wen Ruohan had probably counted on…such an annoying man.

A guard moved to stand in front of Lan Qiren as he tried to walk out of the training area.

“Your quarters are in the other direction, Teacher Lan,” he said politely. “This humble servant can show you to them.”

Lan Qiren paused, then frowned. He had assumed that he was still assigned to the same quarters where he had been staying when he was an invited guest of the Wen sect during the discussion conference, but he supposed his status was different now – though whether it was lower or higher, he wasn’t sure.

He glanced at his nephews, following behind him, and swallowed his ire.

“Of course,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm lest he alarm his nephews. “Lead the way. And it’s Sect LeaderLan.”

The guard led Lan Qiren to a brand-new set of quarters in a completely different part of the Sun Palace, rendering any familiarity he had with the place completely null and void, and then, still worse, announced, “This is where your nephews will be staying.”

Lan Qiren’s hands curled into fists inside his sleeves. Despite that, he waved for Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji to go into the courtyard. They obeyed, although they looked back at him a few times in concern. He waited for them to be fully gone, then asked, voice now tight with tension, “And not me? Where will I be staying, exactly?”

The guard took an automatic step back at the force of Lan Qiren’s glare.

“Not far,” he said hastily. “The – there are more rooms further down, not far at all. This is where the children live, it’s inappropriate for adults.”

“The Wen sect separates by age?” Lan Qiren hadn’t known that. “Until what age?”

“Until they’re crowned.”

Lan Qiren scoffed, but the man appeared in earnest. “You leave children in their own area until they’re twenty?”

He’d known that the Wen sect left certain things until quite late – courtesy names, for instance, didn’t seem to be used until late adolescence or even crowning, seeming to be a matter of bestowal by the sect leader than a matter of course as they were in all the other sects – but this seemed absurd. A young man of nineteen could be a father already, and he still had to live with boys that had just turned five or six and left their mother’s sides?

“That’s correct, Teacher Lan.”

“Sect Leader Lan,” Lan Qiren corrected.

“The – the sect leader has decreed –”

“I bet he has,” Lan Qiren said darkly. With an effort, he reminded himself that this guard was not responsible for his anger, and that he, unlike Wen Ruohan, did not punish the bearer of unfortunate tidings. “Fine. Show me to where my quarters are.”

As promised, the rooms were not very far, only a few turns away in a part of the Sun Palace he was quite certain he’d never been before. They were quite lovely, luxuriant and decadent in the standard Wen sect style, only somehow even more so than usual – the Wen sun sigil painted on every ceiling in the Sun Palace was here embedded with actual rubies in a show of utter wastefulness that he would have expected more from the Jin sect, and the paintings hung on the wall looked especially ancient. There was even a pot of tea on the desk with a filled cup beside it, still steaming in a sign that a servant must have prepared it only moments before, a true indication of luxury.

Lan Qiren was in the mood to appreciate none of it.

At least they’d brought his things over from his previous set of rooms: his sword Xinfei was sitting docilely on the sword stand as if he’d placed it there himself, his guqin Yunhan on the low table next to the bed, and his few changes of clothing had been laundered and put away. He wouldn’t be forced to do without, although how long that would last Lan Qiren could not say – in the normal course of things, he was reliant on his Lan sect servants to do things like laundry and clean-up, but it seemed fairly clear that he was not going to get access to their services here.

He wondered spitefully if he should expect to see the service he received from the Wen sect servants being correlated with his own provision of ‘services’ – if marking the Wen boys badly on a test would result in tepid bathwater and half-dried clothing folded the wrong way or washed with something that would make his skin prickle and turn red, and if failing them would result in worse still. He’d encountered some of that in his sect in his younger days, usually at the moments where he and his brother were having the worst of their feuds, but once he’d grown up a little, he’d been able to put an end to it by relying on his position as the second young master of the clan and, later, acting sect leader. But here he wasn’t Second Master Lan or Sect Leader Lan – according to Wen Ruohan’s decree, he was only Teacher Lan.

While Lan Qiren normally preferred that appellation, representing as it did his own efforts, in this case it annoyed him in its implications. It made it sound as if he were some wandering rogue cultivator or penniless scholar Wen Ruohan had taken pity on and hired off the streets to tutor his children!

Lan Qiren huffed in annoyance. He would write to his sect immediately, he decided, and find out exactly what the circumstances of his stay in the Nightless City were – to find out if they had been deceived somehow, or forced, perhaps. Maybe they had been threatened by his disappearance, or worried about what might happen to him if they did not comply with Wen Ruohan’s demands…or maybe they really had just negotiated a price for which they were willing to not ask any questions.

He would write one letter to the sect, short and to the point, and a second one to Lan Yueheng with an even more subtle request for news. Whenever Lan Qiren stayed at another sect he invariably assumed that his mail would be read by the other sect’s spies – while courtesy suggested that gentlemen not read other people’s mail, politics often made people far more practical. His doubts in this regard were particularly acute for the Wen sect in particular. Still, what else was he to do? Wen Ruohan had already seized his two nephews to bring here to use as an implicit threat against him. If Lan Qiren tried to leave, Wen Ruohan would undoubtedly refuse to allow him to take them away in order to ensure his return.

He might be able to spirit them away in a moment of inattention, but that would require his sect to be on the alert to await his return, and to cooperate in resisting any future demands…

Lan Qiren got angrier and angrier, and rapidly grew even more so when he hunted through the room and did not turn up a single piece of paper or any ink.

“Thinking of leaving so soon?”

Lan Qiren stood up and spun to face Wen Ruohan, who had walked into his room without so much as the courtesy of knocking.

“I was thinking that I would like to write something,” he said stiffly, forcefully putting his hands behind his back to conceal the way they were nearly shaking with rage. “Or do you expect me to be a scholar without a brush?”

Wen Ruohan reached out and pressed a hidden panel Lan Qiren had not noticed on the desk, popping out a secret compartment filled with the treasures of the study. “In my Nightless City, all things are available to you – if you only ask,” he said with an oily smirk. “A good habit for you to pick up in your time here. You’re quite fond of encouraging good habits, are you not, Teacher Lan?”

Do not succumb to rage.

Lan Qiren had always had trouble with that rule.

“You will be waiting a very long time before you teach me to beg,” he snarled, taking a step forward. “Do you think you can treat me as your servant?!”

“I think many things,” Wen Ruohan said, unmoved. “And that I have the right to think them, just as you do not have the right to insult me within my own house. Have you so quickly forgotten that I have your nephews in the palm of my hand?”

The implicit threat being made explicit made Lan Qiren see red.

His sword leapt to his hand from the stand, and he attacked, but of course Wen Ruohan easily stepped back to avoid it, laughing mockingly as he did, and he met Lan Qiren’s next few sword blows directly using his bare hands, spiritual energy serving him directly as a shield.

“Do you really think this is going to get you anywh –” Wen Ruohan stopped mid-word when Lan Qiren pulled off the outer layer of his clothing in a single fluid motion and threw it at him, activating the arrays on it to leap hungrily upon Wen Ruohan as if upon a resentful creature. The arrays couldn’t cause any real damage, designed as they were for truly evil creatures, but the layers of cloth were cumbersome to bat aside and the arrays did snap the spell Wen Ruohan was using to defend himself; the next time Lan Qiren’s sword came at him, he was forced to actually dodge rather than risk having his hands severed.

Unfortunately, Wen Ruohan was unnervingly fast. Lan Qiren had been aiming for a direct blow, but only managed to slice through his robes, and by the time he’d finished his follow-through and spun to make the next strike, Wen Ruohan had tossed off Lan Qiren’s robe and activated some sort of array around his hands, making them glow lightly with profound power. Lan Qiren estimated that if his sword connected directly with them now, it would in the best case be deflected; at the worst case, it might even break.

“You are not going to be able to defeat me,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren huffed – as if he’d thought that he could do that from the very first.  

“Do you remember that tea spell I told you about?” he asked instead, and whistled.

Wen Ruohan immediately threw his hands up, nullifying arrays activating in an effort to block the spell, but Lan Qiren hadn’t been aiming at him at all. Instead, he snatched up the neglected cup of tea that had been left on the desk, now returned to its original steaming temperature, and threw the entire cup, contents and all, straight at Wen Ruohan’s face the second he lowered his hands once more.

Wen Ruohan shouted, more in surprise than pain, and Lan Qiren took advantage of his distraction to throw himself forward, sweeping out with his foot to hit Wen Ruohan at the knee to destabilize him and then bodily tackling him with sword in hand. They landed heavily on the bed, Wen Ruohan crashing down with a loud noise, Lan Qiren atop of him using his body weight to press him down, and when the echoes of the sound faded away, Lan Qiren was kneeling astride him with his sword at Wen Ruohan’s throat.

“Do not dare threaten my nephews again,” he said fiercely. “I am not your servant, nor your slave. I am not even a disciple of one of your subordinate sects. You do not rule the world, Wen Ruohan, and you most certainly do not rule me.”

Wen Ruohan stared up at him from where he was lying on the bed. He seemed almost a little dazed, but then again, Lan Qiren supposed it had probably been rather a long time since he’d had to deal with a direct assault, surrounded as he was by his guards at all times. In fact, he was a little surprised that no one had rushed in to see what happened – they had made rather a lot of noise…

Wen Ruohan started moving under him, and Lan Qiren automatically clamped his knees more tightly, seeking to keep him in place, his focus on maintaining his sword at the other man’s neck. Only a moment later did he realize that Wen Ruohan did not appear to be trying to escape, but rather arching his hips up to press –

Lan Qiren’s whole face suddenly went hot as he realized what the firm pressure against his rear end, hitherto ignored, must be. He tried at once to pull away, recoiling as if he’d suddenly encountered a poisonous serpent and utterly heedless of the fact that he would be giving up his advantageous position in doing so.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

Wen Ruohan’s left hand had at some point snaked up to settle on Lan Qiren’s hip, and he was now holding him down with that one hand alone, forcing him to stay seated upon him through his colossal, inhuman strength. His right hand surged up the moment Lan Qiren was distracted in his attempt to escape, catching him by the wrist and squeezing tightly enough that Lan Qiren momentarily feared his wrist would break, forcing his grip to loosen and causing him to drop Xinfei, his sword falling down beside the bed with a riotous clatter.

“Well done,” Wen Ruohan said, tone as patronizing as the worst sort of teacher, and now that he knew that Lan Qiren had figured out what he was doing he was completely shameless, grinding himself up against him like some dog in heat. “Very clever. I wouldn’t have expected such fierceness from a stuffy old scholar like you, but it seems that you live to subvert my expectations.”

“How dare you lay hands upon me,” Lan Qiren hissed at him. “Release me this instant!”

“I will do no such thing,” Wen Ruohan said with a smirk. “You were the one who ‘laid hands’ first – ah, such a charming blush you have! Don’t act the maiden with me. You must have done this before…”

Lan Qiren felt his ears burn hot and undoubtedly red.

“…no?” Wen Ruohan had seized on his reaction, however minute, and interpreted it correctly. “Really? Is it only that you do not cut your sleeve, or…not at all? My dear Teacher Lan! You are a man over thirty, how can it be?”

Lan Qiren didn’t think it was all that unusual, actually, when one lived a life like his, devoted exclusively to his duties to the sect since he’d been too young to know better. He’d never been especially moved by the demands of the flesh, or at least not in regards to other people – sex had always seemed like far more trouble than it was worth, the books he read stirring nothing within him and his own urges easily satisfied or suppressed, and the idea of engaging in the entire ritual of courtship and marriage seemed oppressively bothersome, especially given the political implications involved as a result of his position.

“That is not your concern,” he said. “Let go of me!”

“Ah, you’re just nervous – it’s as they say, at first raw, later ripe. You only need to get a small taste to see how enjoyable it is…”

“Wen Ruohan!”

Wen Ruohan laughed at him. “Admit you are at my mercy, and I will let you go,” he said, voice rich with mockery. “Even now you do not try to use your sect against me, believing that they have sold you to me – what other option do you have other than surrender, when all strength has failed you?”

Lan Qiren grit his teeth together. “I am not going to beg for your clemency!”

Not least of which because he was quite certain there was no clemency to be had. Wen Ruohan was far further down the path to madness than he’d previously thought. 

“No?” Wen Ruohan pointedly canted his hips, an implicit threat there as well. “We shall see. Do you still think there is something I do not dare to do? Think carefully. Or perhaps you are thinking, and have reached a different conclusion – it would not be the first time. The second wife I took was once a maid, too, before her ambitions led her to aim higher…”

Lan Qiren felt his blood boil.

Wen Ruohan laughed in his face once more. “You’re my sons’ teacher, and so I will not harm you even though you have offended against me,” he said with a smirk. “But I will see you put in your proper place. It is up to you as to whether you wish to fight to the end and be broken before me, or if you will give in to reality now…though of course, if you wish to enter my bed willingly as my concubine, you may be able to win yourself some advantages –”

Lan Qiren abruptly leaned down forward until he was nearly flat against Wen Ruohan, their chests pressed together. Wen Ruohan’s words cut off in his surprise. It was clearly evident that despite his words and actions, he hadn’t actually expected to be taken up on any of his supposed offers. His behavior was meant as a threat, the way everything he’d done so far was meant as a threat, and there was only one way to meet with threats –

Complete and utter rejection.

In this position, Lan Qiren’s face was alongside Wen Ruohan’s, his mouth about level with the other man’s ear.

“This was the song they played in the marketplace the day we met, my heart,” he whispered poisonously. “Do you remember?”

Wen Ruohan threw him across the room.

Lan Qiren hit the bookcases across the room with the clatter, the wood falling down upon him – his entire body was sore from the impact, but he was free, his virtue and dignity still intact.

He stood up and summoned Xinfei back to his hand, pointing it at Wen Ruohan, who was sitting up in the bed and staring at him, his face pale as if he had abruptly lost all his blood.

“I am not your maid,” Lan Qiren said. “I am not your servant, I am not your concubine, and I am most certainly not your whore. You will treat me with respect I am owed.”

“How dare you,” Wen Ruohan said through gritted teeth of his own, his eyes wild and furious. His voice was raspy, uneven. He had never sounded less in control of himself in the entire time Lan Qiren had known him. “How dare you?!”

“How dare you!” Lan Qiren shouted. “I may be your prisoner, but I am still your guest. Touch me again and I will make sure you regret it! Now get lost!”

Wen Ruohan did not move from where he was sitting, still as a statue and just as lifeless.

Lan Qiren huffed. A crook of his fingers summoned his robe back to him, a hand sign brought him his guqin; so equipped, Lan Qiren turned on his heel and marched out of the room, purposefully showing Wen Ruohan his back in an implicit challenge.

As expected, Wen Ruohan did not take him up on it.

It had only been a battle of the wills, in the end – Wen Ruohan was not truly willing to completely break with the other sects, throwing the whole cultivation world into outright war as it would if he had truly sought to force Lan Qiren into his bed. It had only been an insidious means of trying to break Lan Qiren’s spirit and make him submit to his dominion; once he had done that, he would have no need to fear any future resistance, whether on matters as minor as teaching or as critical as sect politics.

Well, Lan Qiren was having none of that. It was not yet clear what had happened with his sect or why his nephews had been allowed to be sent here, and until he uncovered that, he would not allow Wen Ruohan to prey on his doubts and take advantage of his wavering confidence.

“…shufu?” Lan Wangji yawned as Lan Qiren made his way into the rooms his nephews had been assigned. Next to him, Lan Xichen rubbed his eyes and blushed – he knew they weren’t supposed to still sleep together in the same bed now that Lan Wangji was old enough to be on his own, though it came as no surprise that they still did it when they were first in a new place. Privately, Lan Qiren suspected that Lan Xichen was the one who wanted the comfort and Lan Wangji the one indulging his brother, rather than the other way around, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“I’m staying here tonight,” Lan Qiren said instead of criticizing. “Would you like me to play you something before you sleep?”

Both his nephews lit up in delight and quickly assented to his offer, which was one he extended only very rarely, and most often after they’d had a difficult time or a scare of some sort. Today had not been overly hard on them, so it was not precisely called for, and yet…well, Lan Qiren had been the one with the difficult day.

Playing for his nephews, seeing them safe and sound before him, would help settle his nerves.

He’d figure out how to deal with Wen Ruohan tomorrow.

[murkyhazed-is-archiving]

@divescustos

               if   there   is   anyone   who   understands   the   agony   of   resistance,   it   is   carlisle.      ages   ago,   when   he   had   been   turned   he   was   completely   and   utterly   alone.      to   go   through   such   a   change,   to   become   a   monster   that   you   had   originally   been   hunting…      to   crave   the   taste   of   human   blood,   it   was   a   painful   adjustment.      he’d   done   so   much   to   resist   the   temptation,   he   was   lucky   to   have   succeeded.

               to   be   surrounded   by   beating   hearts,   to   smell   the   scent   of   blood…      it   took   years   for   him   to   gain   full   control   of   his   thirst.      to   desensitize   himself   he   surrounded   himself   with   people,   became   a   doctor   where   the   blood   of   humans   was   constantly   present.      what   worked   for   him   though   may   not   work   for   others.      this   he   understands,   and   perhaps   taking   edward   out   among   the   people   had   been   a   bad   idea.      though   if   edward   wanted   to   remain   a   part   of   society   he   would   have   to   overcome   this   intense   desire.

               he   had   sensed   the   presence   of   blood   as   well,   and   while   there   was   a   slight   burning   in   the   back   of   his   throat,   he   did   not   react.      he   had   years   and   years   of   practice   over   edward,   and   a   great   resilience.      some   would   say   that   may   be   his   gift.      carlisle   stills,   watches   edward   as   he   faces   the   ever   present   internal   battle.      if   absolutely   necessary   he   would   intervene,   try   to   stop   him   from   committing   the   terrible   sin.      however   he   is   lucky   as   edward   finally   speaks,   pleading,   begging   him   to   distract   the   feral   thirst.

               ❝   i   don’t   believe   i’ve   told   you   about   my   own   transformation,   have   i?   ❞      it   had   been   a   terrible   time,   had   led   to   centuries   of   loneliness.      it   was   a   story   he   generally   kept   to   himself,   mostly   because   he   never   had   anyone   to   share   it   with.      until   now.      ❝   i   was   not   fortunate   enough   to   have   someone   to   help   me,   guide   me   through   the   uncontrollable   thirst.      the   only   thing   that   kept   me   from   committing   such   an   atrocious   act   was   my   desire   to   protect   all   life.      i   was   aware   of   the   monsters   of   this   world,   i   knew   what   they   did.      i   also   saw   my   own   father   kill   innocents,   believing   they   were   vampires.      i   wanted   to   be   different,   and   that   is   what   helped   stay   my   hand.   ❞

               an   arm   moves   around   edward’s   shoulders,   beginning   to   guide   him   away   from   the   streets.      when   such   a   thirst   is   present,   carlisle   believes   it   helps   to   get   away   from   the   source   and   toward   something   that   can   ease   the   sting.      the   forest   lay   beyond   the   town,   and   that   is   where   he   is   leading   the   other.      ❝   i   tried   countless   things   to   end   my   life,   you   know.      starvation,   drowning…      anything   i   could   think   of   that   would   have   ended   my   life   while   i   was   human.      unfortunately,   we   are   not   so   easily   destroyed.      that   was   a   difficult   lesson   to   come   to   terms   with.   ❞

@murkyhazed : “you can resist it. you have to.” / carlisle.

It had all been going so well.

The noise in my mind was deafening, but it was also almost acting as a distraction from the beating hearts around us. It was difficult to keep up my shallow breathing, but I felt the silent encouragement by my side, as well as hearing it, Carlisle’s mind the loudest amongst the cacophony. It gave me something to grasp onto, something other than the desperate need. And I had been doing well, I knew that, I had seen his gentle smile as we continued our calm walk around the park. It was sundown, most people had already left to continue their evenings at home.

As soon as the man fell not fifty yards away, I had feared I was doomed. A root, pushing its way up where it was not wanted, had made him stumble, made him fall. He had caught himself with his hands, but not before slashing his knee, a low curse escaping his lips as he inspected the damage. And as he did, I was given a front row seat in his mind, my mouth instantly filling with venom at the sight of crimson against pale skin, a low rumble starting in my chest.

Carlisle’s words cut through the haze, and I turned my head — too quickly, but I couldn’t help myself — to look at him with a desperate expression on my face. We were in public, for all it was quiet. He could not whisk me away here, take advantage of my slighter frame and ultimate wish to resist. Here, I must control myself.

I just about resisted the urge to clamp my hand over my nose and mouth. The sweet, delicious scent had already filled my lungs, setting off the inferno raging in my throat. And so I ceased breathing entirely, although the echo of what I craved remained on the back of my tongue. I would have emptied my lungs, but for the fact I feared needing to speak to Carlisle. My muscles tensed, locking myself in place as I fought desperately against the need to run. I had no idea if my legs would actually obey me, and carry me away, or if they would do the opposite.

Without ever having tested the theory, I had known instantly that if this substance were to pass my lips, the burn would be gone. Quenched. Doused for the first time since I had awoken in this new existence of mine. The idea of relief made me want to weep for want of it, even with its impossibility for me now.

But I also knew that in order to have it, I would have to commit the greatest sin I could imagine. I would have to take a human life. And for all I knew my creator would forgive me my transgression, I also knew I could never forgive myself. And, arrogant though it felt, I wanted to prove myself to him. Carlisle had resisted alone, with no one there to guide him. I wanted to show him I could be like him. I wanted my eyes to remain the dark amber they had slowly been turning, steadily losing the terrifying crimson.

I wanted to prove to him that he had chosen right.

My hands curled in and out of fists at my sides, trying fruitlessly to dispel some of the energy still coiled in my muscles.

“Talk to me,” I pleaded, using up a little of my precious air. It was a request I had not made in a few months, not since I was desperately fighting every nerve ending telling me to race away from Carlisle. Distraction.