#some of them are going to ruffle some feathers sorry

[doctorweebmd]

okay I literally can’t stop thinking about this and this can’t sleep so I gotta get it all out. Here we go:

Listen. After sitting on the chapter for the past 24th hours, I think I overall like the ending. It’s certainly not perfect but no one expected it to be. Also let the record show that in any story, being underwritten and letting the reader come up with their own in-between is always better than being over-written.

Izuku Midoriya

- ends up quirkless. Going full circle with the narrative from the very beginning. Expected and well done.

- unexpected is the EIGHT YEARS between losing his quirk and getting a chance to be a hero again.

- listen. the bittersweet aspect continues to break my heart. Izuku did not graduate as one of the big 3. As his friends were excited about joining agencies and starting their lives, he just sat in the background and smiled. He became a teacher. He watched them from the sidelines. He’s lonely and he says so, too many times to count.

- the eight year time skip leaves a lot to your imagination. It would have been nice if we saw Izukus classmates adjusting training for him. Practicing more hand-to-hand combat so he wouldn’t use OFA unless he needed to. Slowly developing new support items and working with them.

- it would have been nice to see the people he gave everything up for rally around him. Talk to him about the way he felt. We lose so SO much insight into Izukus mental state here and it hurts me to no end.

- I like him being a teacher. It suits him, especially with how good he is with helping and inspiring kids. It’s following in All Mights footsteps quite literally.

- eight years is a long. Fucking. Time. All Might your ass sells more action figures of yourself than every other hero combined. You have favors to call in from every government on the planet. You didn’t have a couple yet to pitch in??? Did you blow your money on mechamight? Shoto and Momo are both canonically rich. Youre telling me no pro heroes would have pitched in on this thing? How did support items MADE BY IZUKUS FRIENDS take eight. Fucking. Years. To develop. Even monetarily. Come on. One year. Three MAYBE max.

- I have a lot of thoughts on Izuku and shigaraki. Again, very bittersweet that the person he wanted to save so desperately, who he wanted to help and understand, died. Even with the past users and Gran Torino telling him he’d have to kill Shigaraki, he insisted on saving him. Nana wept to him because of his kind heart. But we still end up with the inevitable and it’s just… glossed over. I’m glad Shigaraki haunts the narrative. I’m glad Izuku can’t forget about him. In fact, Izuku dealing with having a person right in front of him that he could not save, just like Eri, just like Katsuki, would have been a powerful character insight and development if we just explored it more.

- on that note, after all the arm-fuckery foreshadowing, I think he should have lost at least one of his arms. Something something the cost of reaching into the fire that burns you. Something something you reap what you sow you arm-breaking motherfucker.

- I really liked his conversation with spinner.

- I like that Katsuki reached out to him. I like that he fought so hard to get Izuku back into the fray. Again, the last 8 years are unwritten. Who knows. He might have been supporting him the entire time. Mourning OFA when the embers finally burned out by his side. We can believe they finally talked to each other about life and death and sacrifice. We can believe they became close, best friends, even. The last chapter suggests nothing of the sort, but that’s what fandom is for I guess. On that note….

Katsuki Bakugou

- outside of Izuku (actually even including Izuku) he suffered the most injuries out of EVERYONE.

- so tell me HOW he bounced back like that.

- his heart literally. LITERALLY exploded. Sure you can say he started slow and ‘trained himself up again’ (not how hearts work) except he was still in the top 3 at graduation. And somehow outranks Shoto as a pro. And retained none of that ‘having to stay calm to control his heart’ rhetoric at the end with the Kacchan typical yelling. You’re telling me he fucking DIED and suffered no physical repercussions from it?!

- his arm was ground into bone and muscle SOUP. Yes he did physical therapy yes he did hand exercises yes he started writing with his left. Okay. How is he able to use it normally now. You’re saying soup-arm McGee suffered no long term issues? He’s just ambidextrous now I guess,?????

- he was literally crippled. It would have been beautiful to see him having to slow down, feeling left behind, it being a point of connection and friendship between him and Izuku. Again we can just imagine those things happened in the past 8 years but the glimpses that we do see imply otherwise.

- listen I’ve written a million pages of bkdk but you need at least two lines to be able to read between them (I personally do not feel as overwhelmingly happy about the contributing to the mechadeku fund as a lot of people…. It’s sweet and all but it’s kinda…. 🤷‍♀️ after what they’ve been through and what they’ve done for each other if he wasn’t the biggest contributor I’d be confused.)

Todorokis

- not giving each Roki their own subsection because I actually very much like the way their arc turned out

- I like that endeavor could no longer be a hero. I like that Tatsuo went no-contact and he accepted it. I like the effort he’s taking to spend time with Touya even if it is too little too late. I came in as a hater but truly think Endeavors arc is one of the best done redemption arcs in manga or anime period.

- … I also think he could have/should have died. Probably with Touya. Probably as a last act to protect his family.

- I like that Shoto is slowly getting away from being known as Endeavors son. I like that he’s still a hero after everything he’s seen and gone through.

- I liked the scene where him and Touya find out they have the same favorite food. Damn that broke me.

Ochaco Uraraka

- not a ton to say as I also like the way things ended for her

- I appreciate that she got to show her pain and grief over Toga, and that she made it so clear to everyone

- I also love that she became such a huge advocate for quirk counseling (although…. Not quite sure how the technical aspects of that would really change anything………..)

The Villain Trio

- it comes as no surprise that this is the part that I don’t agree with and could have been done differently

- there is no reason all three of them should have died. None. Zip. Zilch.

- Tenko/Tomura I kinda covered above. He’s a horribly tragic character. He wanted to become a hero to the villains. He’s been manipulated his entire life, from the second he was born, and that desperate little boy drowning in a sea of hands waiting for a hero fucking died.

- I love the scene in his memory. I love Izuku reaching out to him. I love Nana preventing her son from hitting him. I think it was beautiful. I love how his single moment of agency he used to heat AFOs crusty ass.

- but Hori cmon you could have pulled SOMETHING out of our ass. He hasn’t reaped ANY of the shit he sowed. He quite literally dismantled (kinda) hero society and got to see NOTHING. You could have let him be a vestige for a bit within the embers. You could have swapped his situation out with Dabi. You could have brought in Chisakis crazy ass and somehow reconstructed his body so it wasn’t all fucked. Cmon.

- spinner writing that book. Compress reading it. That vision of tomura in the end. I am killing myself.

- listen. Despite Shigaraki being my favorite villain ever and one of my favorite characters of all time, I GET his death. Okay?

However…..

- there was NO reason for Toga to die. Not one.

- direct parallel to Katsuki here. Where is protecting HER future? Where is making the sacrifice to give HER a new day?

- Toga is a child. She’s seventeen. Tenko wanted to destroy everything and Dabi wanted to destroy Endeavor, but all she wanted was to live freely as herself.

- she would have THRIVED in prison. She would have made lots of friends and saw Ochaco once a week and maybe found a side-piece that’s into blood play.

- SHE died from blood loss? Bro idk if you know this but the thing that pumps blood in your body is the heart. In fact your heart exploding is a fantastic way to bleed out in 0.000001 seconds.

- even if Touya and Shigaraki had to die, she could have survived. She could have been the kernel of hope. She could have been the signal to Ochaco to be a hero to the heroes AND the villains

- hello i am writing a manga where i explicits make the point that the line between heroes and villains is paper thin and that under different circumstances these heroes we know and love would also make mistakes and could end up similarly. Anyway all the villains fucking die the end.

- Touya wanted to die and did everything in his power to do so. That boy waiting for the last of his body to give out as he died slowly and painfully is probably his worst nightmare. Jesus fucking Christ.

Other thoughts:

- love that Eri and Kota are friends and UA students together. SO CUTE.

- love that Aoyama still became a hero with them all

- La Brava and Gentle married?!?!

- Hatsume more like HOTsume 🥵 amirite ladies?

- I like that the hyperfocus on heroes in society has decreased. That the old lady helped ol’ string lips and he’s now in UA. I love how all the kids can see now that there is more than one way of being a hero

- if anything the hero ranking charts should have been abolished. Completely.

- like…. Have we abolished heroes wanting to be heroes for fame and money and power? Seems not

- speaking of where is stain

- thank GOD hori left all the relationships completely open.

- all their adult designs are CLUTCH. Mina, Denki and Shinsou MVPs

- Aizawa/Izuku coworker friendship. His problem child now his problem office mate. They’re both essentially quirkless now so that’s some shit.

- light in All Mights eyes!!!!

Okay it’s too late that’s all I can think of right now. Horikoshi is an amazing writer and has built a world that has changed a lot of lives. Endings are difficult and can never be perfect. I think he did it in the best way that could possibly be done.

Sigh. I’m gonna miss these kids so much.

[justporo]

Who's the goose... (1)

Finally having arrived in Baldur's Gate, Astarion finds the wrong pocket to pick - and gets turned into a goose as punishement. Peace was never an option.

PART 2 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: This might as well have been the stupidest idea I've ever had but I couldn't get it out of my head, so here we are. Thanks for input and giving me some more stupid ideas for this to my bf, @tatterings, @bearhugsandshrugs and @the-littlest-raindrop and @megschaef98 for already cackling about it (and everyone else on that server for your love and support!); ah also Neil Newbon for coming up with this... The wonderful little doodle is once more done by the lovely @azaani-art!

Pairing: Uhm, Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Stupid

Warnings: goose? (I'm sorry, I'm really just running with the bit by now...)

Wordcount: 3,7k

~~~

A goose sat in front of you all.

And it looked weirdly humanoid how it sat there: tiny rubbery legs stretched out in front of it and the wings too – as if it didn’t know how to properly move or place them.

The goose’s head turned around on the long neck to look at you and your companions out of its small red button eyes. The feathers on top of its head were a bit ruffled and almost gave it the look of having a flurry of white curls right there.

It lifted its stretched out wings a little. Looked at them one after another and made a small croaking noise as it did so.

That made it shut its beak again and snap its red gaze back to you.

You looked down at the goose in shock. The goose looked at you with what you presumed was shock too.

And then it opened its beak wide and started wailing with loud honks, as loud as its avian lungs would allow.

The party had finally arrived at Baldur’s Gate. And then had quickly realised that none of you had really an idea where to start your investigation. So, you had taken to walk around the Lower City and just casually ask around to find out more about what seemed to be going on in the city – especially with this Lord Enver Gortash and his newly established Steel Watch.

The day had been long and exhausting. You all kind of had forgotten how a day without a battle, killing and mortal peril was spent – just walking around in the city, engaging in inconspicuous small talk and trying not to lose your mind by getting nowhere with it – what could possibly be more dreadful than that?

Morale had already been low since the start. Halsin had very obviously been a bit unsettled by the big, bustling city, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. Jaheira had just stoically taken in the city and what had changed since she had last been there. Lae’zel had basically been gnawing on your ears with her complaints of how stupid your approach of talking to people was. That in turn had made Shadowheart almost want to choke her (again). And Wyll had become awfully silent since you’d entered the city – too much was weighing on his mind. Gale was just sad.

Karlach probably was the only one in quite the happy mood: since it’s been a very long time for her since she’s actually been to Baldur’s Gate she was just amazed by everything she saw. And she promptly called that out. Every. Single. Thing. So really not doing anything to help with the low mood of the group.

You had just tried to make the best out of it although you certainly had had to admit to yourself that the missing success of your day had been weighing on you also. But you had tried to be stubborn about it.

Astarion had walked by your side the whole day, surprisingly diligent on his part. You had felt that he was tense – as could have been expected upon entering the lair of his master again. But he had really tried to support you with your current goals – and you were absolutely thankful for that.

But as the day had grown late you had felt the annoyance rise in him too, just as much as it had within you.

It had already become dark in the city. Lanterns and the pale moonlight now had been the only sources of light. You had known that the group should’ve soon gotten back to the inn to retire for the night – despite having found out nothing today.

But you had wanted to push for one last attempt - unfortunately. And when you had happened upon a rather feisty older fellow, Astarion’s thin-stretched patience had finally snapped.

After you had tried to talk to this guy and he had only kept answering in riddles, you had been about to give up when you had noticed that the vampire beside you had disappeared.

You had feared nothing good from this finding and sure as all Nine Hells you had seen how Astarion had tried to sneak up on this man and pickpocket him.

And this had been, when things had really gone sideways – and then backwards; and down a hill.

With Astarion’s hands still in his robe the man had turned around to the vampire and looked him straight in the eye: “What do you think you’re doing there, young man?” He hadn’t even sounded awfully angry, rather a bit amused.

Astarion had simply blinked at him, absolutely dumbfounded that he had so easily been found out. The guy had watched him for a second longer with a small, suppressed smile playing on his lips and then started to whisper as an ominous purple glow had started to emit from him.

The vampire had hastily tried to scurry back, but it was already too late. An explosion of purple light had blinded you all and made you turn away with groans.

And when you had turned around again, both men standing there had been gone, only a single goose left in their place that had looked dazed and very out of place.

So here you were now: with a vampire turned into a screaming goose.

You really didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry – probably both. The wailing from polymorphed Astarion was ringing in your ears. Gods, geese could be really loud, couldn’t they?

You looked around your group of friends in desperate need for help.

Karlach had completely lost it, almost doubled over on the cobblestone street. Even Lae’zel bit her bottom lip in an attempt to not burst out laughing, covering half her face with one of her hands. But most of your other companions just looked as shocked and surprised as you.

Gale had his hand on his chin and was obviously very deep in thought – surely, he was already figuring something out to fix this mess. At least you immediately deeply hoped for it.

For a moment you just stood there. Warm, orange light from some nearby windows was lighting the absurd scene. The goose’s wailing drifted to the background for a few moments as your vision blurred and your gaze wandered miles away.

How exactly had you ended up in this ridiculous situation? Out of everything, how had all the steps you had taken led you to this night where your already traumatised soulmate had been turned into poultry and was now shouting the whole city down? Didn’t you have enough on your godsdamned plate already? Would the damned gods ever give you a break?

Your eyes started to burn and water as you stared into the void. You really couldn’t take much more.

But how many times had you been at this point? Too many already anyways.

So, you did, what you always did: took a deep breath, closed your eyes for a hot second, pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose and tried to focus your thoughts again.

You’d find a way out of this and if not… Well, you’d find a way to live with Astarion as a goose, for better or for worse.

When you focused again on the scene, you saw how Halsin was slowly approaching the goose that was Astarion and was still honking as if his life depended on it – and maybe it did, who knew? Gale was whispering an incantation and focusing on the goose. The rest was just still standing around with quizzical looks on their faces or casually losing it and losing their last shreds of sanity.

Halsin had almost reached the crying bird, all the while softly mumbling calming words to Astarion. The druid stretched out his arms as if he planned to pick up the still screaming animal.

But just before he could reach it, Astarion saw it coming, stopped his whining and jumped up with fluttering wings. With a quickness that would have been astounding for such an animal, had you not known that it was normally a dexterous rogue, the goose got up from its awkward sitting position and snapped at the fingers of the druid. Halsin immediately recoiled and looked a little hurt.

Astarion was flaring his big white wings now – lifting them up and his long goose neck stretched out, ready to snap again at anyone that tried to touch him. At least he had stopped honking now and was just swaying his head around at all of you standing around him in a loose half circle – ready to fight anyone who would dare touch a single feather on his head.

“Astarion?”, you asked cautiously, fearing that the transmutation hadn’t altered the vampire’s mind as well. The goose immediately turned to you, a small and much more silent honk left its throat. Its wings lowered a little as soon as it heard your voice. “I know this will sound stupid given the situation, but uh, please try to calm down?”, you asked him and made a grimace while you helplessly stretched out your arms to him, bending your knees.

Astarion honked once more in a clearly annoyed tone and let his wings sink fully as if he was letting his shoulders drop in defeat.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered and felt a wave of sadness wash over you. Meanwhile the others had started to get out of their stupor or calmed themselves from their laughter. Everyone stayed clear of the clearly readily violent goose though.

You crouched down fully and stretched out your arms even more towards the animal that kept watching you intently. With no more words or honks, the goose settled down its wings and carefully waddled over to you and your opened arms.

Once Astarion was very close you couldn’t help yourself but go to your knees and reach out both your arms wider for the animal – ready to give it a hug. Astarion slowly stepped into them and you carefully wrapped your arms around the goose as it made a small honk. It sounded pretty sad and helpless and you could suddenly feel tears well up in your eyes.

You held the much smaller animal. The feathers were surprisingly soft and Astarion carefully placed his small goose head on your shoulder with another quiet honk. It was so light you could barely feel it at all resting there.

The mood in the group had suddenly soured watching you take your partner in your arms – no matter the actual ridiculousness of the situation.

You held the goose and petted it softly, until Gale interrupted the awkward silence with an exclamation.

“Aha”, the wizard made and came back out of his trancelike concentration. He looked around in some confusion as everyone watched the tragic scene of you sadly hugging the poor animal that had awkwardly stretched out its wings a little to return the sentiment – it hadn’t really worked well.

“Uhm”, Gale made and then cleared his throat to catch everyone’s attention. The group just looked at him in silence.

“By the gods, what is with the sudden graveyard atmosphere? You all do realise Astarion is not de- I mean…”, he started sassily and interrupted himself when he realised his mistake. And before he could start again, the bird in your arms had started writhing and honking again. Obviously, Astarion had opinions on not getting the same kind of compassion from Gale as from the others now.

He tried to break free from your arms, but you held him easily – he was just… a goose after all. Although, you got whacked in the face by his wings several times. “Astarion!”, you scolded him. “I really don’t think you’re in a position to be feisty right now. And I’m pretty sure he has something to share that will help about the situation you are in. And might I add, the situation you put yourself in on your own!” A bit of anger welled up in you at the vampire and his godsdamned shenanigans that had landed you all in this mess now. Also his audacity to still be sassy about it – not even being turned into a featherball could stop him from that, it seemed.

The goose calmed down, reluctantly. Its beak was still open as it stared at the wizard – probably the equivalent of the vampire baring his teeth at him. You carefully let him go and just sat down backwards on the ground. You could use it right now.

“Now, if we’re not in a poultry house anymore”, Gale continued cheerily and gave the present poultry a death glare. The goose gave a very slight hiss – at least he had retained that capability.

You waved Gale to please go on.

“Alright, it’s – as you might’ve figured already – a transmutation spell. And might I add a mighty one. I really have no idea who that fellow was, but it surely was the wrong pocket to pick, Astarion – or might I say Goosetarion”, the wizard explained in his scholarly manor and wiggled a finger at the goose while grinning – earning himself another hiss. At least someone present seemed intrigued about the whole situation.

Hearing that it was a mighty spell already let your heart sink. But Gale went on and everyone just listened intently: “The good news is though: transmutations spells can’t be held for overly long. So, I’d say we’re back with our sassy humanoid companion in about…” Gale drew out his words as everyone hung on his lips.

“I’d say twenty-four hours at the latest.”

“TWENTY-FOUR HOURS”, came back the answer in unison from almost all the companions – and a mournful honk. Your mouth fell open but honestly you were immediately flooded with relief that you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life with a goose – although you would have committed to that.

“Tchk, and what are we going to do with him in the meantime? Walk him around on a leash? We can’t waste any time!”, Lae’zel commented. Karlach started to snicker again, and so did Shadowheart and Wyll around her.

Goosetarion small red eyes flashed viciously and he quickly lashed out at her like he had at Halsin before, aiming for the githyanki ankle. But Lae’zel had the upper hand and quickly pushed him away with her foot – not exactly kicking him but not exactly being gentle either.

The goose landed ungracefully on its back, legs flailing in the air while it kept complaining and trying to get up again.

“Lae’zel”, you shouted but she simply shrugged at you.

���Well, what else are we going to do? Tomorrow will just be another day of walking around the city trying to gather more information. What harm can it be then? Also, it’s not like we could just leave him here anywhere anyway. Beastly as he is, but he’s still only a goose now, we need to protect him”, Wyll chimed in sympathetically. You nodded your head in agreement and the others muttered their agreement, although some just a tad reluctantly.

Goosetarion in the meanwhile had waddled back over to you to be embraced again, head hanging slightly, doing his best to look like… well, a kicked goose.

You softly stroked his long feathery neck and noticed to your amusement that his rump started to wiggle when you did that. It surely seemed he wasn’t aware that he was doing that. You couldn’t hide a grin and you saw that Halsin grinned at you and the goose too.

“Can we just go back to the inn then? It’s already super late and my feet hurt”, Shadowheart added after it had been settled. Everyone hummed in exhausted agreement.

And so you went on your way. You softly got up from your seat on the cobble road while the goose complained about the lack of caressing happening. You stretched your back and watched after your friends that had already started to walk back towards your location for the night.

“Want me to carry you?”, you asked looking down at the goose and stretched out your arms again. But Goosetarion gave a curt honk and stretched his long neck away from you in an offended manner, then started to waddle after the others.

Now that you knew that he would hopefully be back to his normal humanoid self very soon, the humorous nature of the situation wasn’t as lost on you anymore. The way the goose wiggled its whole torso around while trying to catch up with the others was a sight to behold. Especially if you compared it with Astarion’s usual feline grace. And yet he was way too proud to just accept help.

You snorted and started to follow behind Goosetarion. He heard that and swung his head around while he kept walking, making him look even more ridiculous. You snorted more. And were pretty sure you could see the small red eyes scream bloody murder at you for mocking him.

But Astarion was way too focused and needed all his energy to keep up. Occasionally, he even had to break into a sprint – almost tripping over his rubbery feet and spreading out his wings to not lose balance. It was truly hilarious.

Some idle chatter developed between the companions and you on the way back. And of course, Goosetarion was the subject matter.

“Is there nothing you can do before the spell runs out?”, you asked Gale at some point while you were careful to walk exactly by the goose to offer at least a little protection.

“Oh, believe me, I would if I could – although I have to say I’m enjoying this situation a little bit-“ (“HONK!”) “ but it is, as I pointed out before, a pretty powerful spell. And if I started to fumble with it I might make it worse and-“ (“Honk…”) “- and I guess you’d rather have him back in one piece”, Gale ended and ignored the bickering animal between him and you. You nodded in agreement with the wizard – seemed your safest bet would be to just sit this one out.

“Looks like until tomorrow you’re just going to be a silly little goose then, aren’t you, Asta-OWW!” That had been a line crossed for Goosetarion. And other than Halsin and Lae’zel, the wizard surely was not quick enough to avoid the rogue goose’s vicious attack on his ankles. Gale awkwardly tried to kick at the goose but Goosetarion had learnt from the last time and quickly ducked out of the way, rushing around you so he could hide behind your legs.

“You had that one coming”, you mumbled under your breath as Gale looked at you hurt. He walked a little faster then, trying to steer clear from the murderous bird and engaged others in conversation. Goosetarion waddled through your legs so he was walking in front of you again although you noticed that he was clearly starting to struggle

“And couldn’t you not just at least cast “Speak with animals” or something?”, Karlach took up the conversation about Goosetarion’s fate. You hadn’t even thought of that so far. You had just been too occupied with the situation as a whole. You simply shrugged because you had absolutely no idea.

“But he is not an animal”, Jaheira replied to Karlach’s suggestion in her matter-of-fact demeanor from in front of you. Halsin beside her nodded silently. “He is still his vampiric elven self, just temporarily in another form. Even if Halsin or I wildshaped into geese we would not be able to speak with him because we are at least partly beast when we turn”, the infamous druid added to her explanation. “As far as I know there is no spell to work in this situation. But quite frankly maybe we could all do without his yapping for at least a day and he learns a lesson about all of this”, she finished and gave the goose a stern look.

Goosetarion stopped and made another rather sad honk. He really must have been having the worst and most humbling of times.

You stopped just behind the goose: “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” The look Jaheira gave you made sure though that she absolutely did, but you brushed over it. You held out your arms to the goose again. However, Goosetarion again just waddled off on his own.

But the way to the inn was long and the goose was soon almost completely exhausted, probably amplified by not being used to moving around like that. At some point, when you had already slid out of all the other conversations and were just deep in your thoughts, you were stopped by another soft honk just below you.

Astarion stood before you and had spread his wings towards you, neck craned up towards you. It again looked weirdly humanoid with the way he moved and behaved. When you didn’t immediately react because you were really just very exhausted and didn’t catch on, the goose started to kind of hop in place and honked again.

“Oh, you want to be picked up! Sorry”, you replied and bent down to awkwardly grab the animal.

After some wriggling around and Astarion’s earnest tries to not writhe around too much in your arms, you were able to lift him up. He was stretching his neck and small feet out and made small noises that made you think that he wasn’t quite very comfortable with what was happening. But he gave his best to cope.

Once you kind of had him settled down on your hip, one arm around him and one under him to support him, he seemed to be considerably more comfortable, better even. When you had caught up to the others again and Gale sassily lifted an eyebrow at the goose now being carried around, Astarion made full use of his long neck to peck at the wizard’s sleeve.

Gale squealed again – much to the amusement of the rest of the group and made sure to keep even more distance from the goose. Goosetarion gave a contented honk then and refrained from biting anyone else for the rest of the way.

You were still laughing softly with the others, when the inn came into view. At least you hadn’t lost your humour so far.

(To be continued...)

~~~

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @bloopthebat @dark-star-exe

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, reader and keigo are married, reader is a civilian, this is post-war, toys (duh), forced orgasms, heavy overstimulation, dacryphilia, aftercare GENRE: smut SUMMARY:  WORD COUNT: 702 🦊’s A/N: god im almost free sorry if this is shit idgaf anymore i need to take a BREAK im sorry this is short as fuck

     when your husband brought up wanting to try a couple toys in the bedroom, he had failed to neglect that you would end up like this! 

     blindfolded and bound spread eagle to the bed, with an evil hitachi wand tied to your thigh with its vibrating head pressed snugly against your swollen, hypersensitive clit, having cum a minimum six times, and at this point, your cunt had gone numb three orgasms ago, yet it still hurt.

     he’d had the heart not to gag you, at least—or maybe his perverted ass wanted to hear your pretty moans turned to choked sobs and wails of his name, begging him to come back, as you weren’t sure if he was even in the room anymore. 

     keigo, meanwhile, had been in the living room, finally doing some of the paperwork he’d been putting off, listening to the sound of your whimpering and whining from his spot on the couch and trying his best to ignore the painful erection in his sweatpants. 

     glancing at the clock on his laptop, he sees it had been about an hour and a half since he had initially left you like this; so he figures he should head back to check in on your exhausted form. 

     the sight he was greeted with was better than anything any porno could cook up—your back arched off the bed as you tug and thrash against the ropes binding you in place, the magic wand he’d tied to your thigh still happily buzzing away against your sensitive cunt, your inner thighs and bedsheets beneath you drenched in sweat and cum. 

     “awh, darlin’—you look so lovely,” he coos softly and your body tenses at the sound of his voice.

     “kei–keigo! you—you bastard!” you cry, wrists tugging at the silken ropes holding them so tightly in place. “you— bitch! l–let me—let me go! please!” 

     you’re right on the precipice of another orgasm when he agrees; “okay, okay—don’t get your feathers all ruffled, dove.” (SIR?) 

     moving to turn off the godforsaken vibrator, he tenderly unties it from your leg, taking his time to run his calloused hands over your quivering thighs as he whispers soft praises of how you did so well for him. shifting to take your blindfold off next—wanting to see your tear streaked face before he untied you—you whine impatiently as he gently undoes the knot keeping the cloth in place. 

     “you’re so pretty when you cry, baby,” he says quietly. “now let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” he suggests, tenderly caressing your face and planting a quick peck to your lips. 

     it’s only a few seconds after that he’s untying your wrists, then your ankles, and turning on one heel to start a warm bath for you, saying he’ll be right back.

     about five minutes of heavy breathing and sporadic twitching later, keigo comes back to scoop you up and gently set you in the bathtub, grabbing a clean washcloth to dip into the water and start washing the sweat off your sticky skin. during the intimate process, he makes sure to ask you how you were feeling and that you knew he was sorry for just leaving you there. 

     afterwards, he drys you off with a soft, fluffy towel and carries you to sit in the plush chair in your room as he changes the sheets in record time, simply discarding the used ones on the floor of the laundry room, a problem to be dealt with later. 

     “you feelin’ okay, sweetheart?” he asks sweetly, voice laced with genuine concern as he picks you back up and sets you on your side of the bed.

     “‘ll be okay…. just—we’re not doing this again anytime soon,” you tell him, mind still hazy from having cum so many times.

     he chuckles quietly at your words and runs his hand through your hair before saying he’s gonna go and get you some water; when he comes back, he’s greeted by your lightly snoring, absolutely passed out form. 

     “ah—that checks out, yeah,” he grins lightly at the sight and sets the water on your nightstand before crawling into bed to spoon you. “sleep well, dove,” he whispers into your ear, pressing a light kiss to your cheek.

return to KINKTOBER | PRO HEROES M.LIST

[chrolloluvr]

Can you please do Stolas,Alastor,Lucifer,and Adam with a insomniac reader Hcs

Alastor, Stolas, Lucifer, Adam x Insomniac!Reader

note: ty for requesting bookie bear! also i do not have insomnia, so if its a bit inacurate, sorry!! I am going purely based off of the definition! Also this is not proofread.

GenderNeutral!Reader:

warnings: use of pet names, thats all!

Alastor:

A couple months after your relationship started, he would sleep next to you (by sleep, he would lay with his eyes wide open, sprawled across your chest.) And would notice you rarely slept.

He would wake you up with a nice coffee, and say,

"My dear, whats with the long face?"

You would look at him deadpan, your eyes barely opening, and he would keep telling you to just rest your pretty little head, as he ruffled your hair.

When you try to explain to him that you are an insomniac, he wouldn't understand. Why cant you just sleep normally? (this rule does not apply to him)

He would try his best to help you, by giving you warm blankets, or even letting you rub and scratch his ears to help you sleep if you are lucky.

Would stay awake with you and read to you a story ranging from fairytales, to stories about when he was still alive.

Stolas:

Stolas is very attentive because he genuinely loves and cares for you.

He catches on very quickly to this sleepless habit of yours, and becomes very doting. Constantly saying,

"My little owlette, you need your beauty sleep! Do you need a massage?"

When you tell him that you rarely sleep, and that it's hard for you, he understands completely. He is a Goetia, he is going through a divorce, and he has to take care of his daughter. He knows how tired you must be.

He will let you lay on his chest and ruffle his feathers, and will sing you a lullaby (similar to the one he sang Octavia)

Adam:

Oh boy. If he sees sees you having trouble sleeping, he will most likely make fun of you.

"Cmon babe, why cant you just sleep, its really not that hard..."

He earned a slap to the face after he said that...

Once you explain that you have insomnia, he doesn't fully get it, but he loves you, so he tries his best

He ends up not understand shit, so he grabs Lute to come and help you.

The most he can do to help you is let you play with his hair with his mask off, or will try and get you to laugh.

Will stay awake with you most likely, and you guys will probably watch a movie and cozy up on his couch.

Lucifer

Also another one that understands. This man has gone through ALOT.

"Sweetie, why don't you come to bed, yeah?"

When you explain to him your issues, he feels bad for you, and offers to give you a back massage, or to play with his rubber ducks a bit.

Will try his best to at-least ease your mind

He will let you play with his wings and run your fingers through them, or even let you brush his platinum blonde hair.

He likes to remind you that he is always there, and that he will stay awake with you if you need it.

Will ask Charlie for help, and maybe get some advice from her

Will bring KeKe to play with you and keep you company.

[thegnomelord]

Lending a Hand

CW:NSFW @bluegiragi Monster tf141au go give her some love!, Werewolf Soap!, Harpy Gaz!, Mage reader!, Dom top Male reader, sub bottom Gaz and Soap, gratuitous depictions of sex, heat/rut, Dom/sub, anulingus, knotting, dirty talk (attempts at it anyway), Poly!TF141,

3k word long af fic because I overwrote again :/ asks are always welcome lol.

Price and Ghost had left you three to entertain yourselves while they went on a mission, and like every thing in Soap's life, his rut come in swinging out of nowhere. One moment he's playing some old racing game, sitting on the floor while you and Gaz sit on the harpys' bed, and the next — his nose is twitching and he swears he can taste your scents on his tongue, the heavenly combination of Gaz's spicy sweet cologne and your own harsher smell making heat burn in every cell of his body.

He feels Gaz's leg brush against his back and it makes every strand of hair on his body puff up, a low sound like rumbling thunder ringing in his ears and an overwhelming need to scent you two clawing at his brain. The controller falls from his hands when he turns to nuzzle his face into Gaz's leg, huffing in his scent like a man possessed, his mind already imagining all the times they've fucked and how fucking good Kyle had felt wrapped around his knot like a proper mate. His cock grows hard in his pants and his skin flushes when he realizes the low rumbling sound is coming from him; a mating growl that neither of you can answer.

"Soap, you alright there?" He moans hearing your voice, the sudden sensation of your hand on his shoulder and your heavy scent — corrupted by magic and smelling of overwhelming dominance as if you're a part of the nature running in his blood — has his tail curling up without prompting and back arching with a high pitched whine, clawed hands grasping at both of your legs now.

"Donnoe mates... feeling hoht all of a'udden." Soap slurrs, sight and mind going hazy, mind buzzing with heat. His cock is hardening in his pants, and there's a slickness between his thighs when he rubs them together.

"Shit, think the git's going into rut." Kyle says under his breath, his feathers ruffling up when he reaches out to feel the heat of Johnny's forehead. Soap moans at the skin contact only for it to turn into a growl when he realizes he can't scent you both at once. His body feels like it wants to rip itself in half to hold both of you, to cover both you and Gaz in his scent and fuck, but with only one body he does the next best thing and pivots on his knees to shove his face where the scent is the strongest — your crotch.

"Fuck- MacTavish!" You hiss, immediately trying to shove him. He clings to you like a fly to shit, whining incomprehensible words and chest stinging from rejection. His body shakes and shifts, not the sudden transformation you're used to seeing on the battlefield but a minute gradual change parallel to his need. Clawed hands grip your legs, his clothes straining at the seams when he pants against your crotch, tail curled up in an desperate attempt to gain his mates' attention; to show how strong and good and ready he is.

"Shit, sorry lad." Kyle gives an awkward cough. "Help me with him yeah? My arse won't be able to handle him like this." He says and doesn't even have enough decency to look embarrassed about his words, reaching out to tug on Soap's hair like he knows Johnny likes, Kyle's attempts to tug him away only making him burry his face into your groin even more.

"You sure, won't I be taking advantage of him?" You go to ask if this would be too much, if you'd be crossing a line when Soap's like this — blissed out and barely himself — even if you feel your cock harden from his nuzzling.

"Yeah... you're fine— he'd had bit you by now if he was against it." Gaz says with a small awkward giggle all first time lovers make, not at all realizing it's not the best thing to say when you have a half transformed werewolf shoving his face into your dick. "We trust you mate." He admits; even if you've been on the team a few months, even if your past isn't all that reputable — they trust you. Both of them.

Soap's not paying attention to what's being said, how could he when he can smell you and feel your cock through your pants, and fuck he wants it needs it in him now. He mouths at your cock, uncaring and unaware of his fangs painfully scraping and digging into your skin through your clothes. All he wants is to taste that cock, his body growing bigger and clothes ripping at the seams as his mind conjured up thoughts of fucking and being fucked.

His insides clench pitifully around nothing and he needs a cock to push deep inside him and stretch him wide until he's knotted and round with pups. His knot feels hard and cold and he needs to feel tight heat of a mate around his knot that he can breed full of his cum. He needs... he needs—

"Fine! Fine!" You give in with a hiss when Johnny's teeth dig into your pants in an attempt to get to your cock. You tug him up by the hair your grip harsher and firmer than Kyle's, everything about you feeling so overwhelmingly dominant he doesn't even try to fight, only trying to get closer to you.

You have to brace yourself when he bears down on you, teeth going to mark up your throat the moment he can push his face into your neck. You groan when he bites down on your neck with sharp teeth and Gaz croons softly, pushing himself close to you both, his large wings twitching excitedly when Soap answers with a low whiny growl of his own. His attention pivots and now he's trying to scent and mark the harpy until you shift just a bit and his head ricochets back to your neck, teeth creating a warzone on both of your necks.

"Alright, Gaz, on the bed." You order and yank Soap's head back when he bites too close to your jugular. Gaz moves to follow your order and you have to hold Soap by the hips to keep him from lunging at Kyle because his mate is going away and he can't have that!

"Wait." Your harsh and rough voice falls on deaf ears as Soap continues to shift and get bigger, his shirt tearing off his body and the button of his pants popping open. The sudden release of his cock has Soap whining low and loud and rocking his hips into the air as if already mating and his tail smacking against your leg as a sign for you to just fuck him already. "What the fuck did I just say?" You growl and grab his clothed dick in a harsh grip.

"So- fock- ry, sorry!" Soap manages, his hips still doing small thrusts in an attempt to grind his slick backside against your crotch despite your chastising.

"Well aren't you bossy." Gaz teases and watches you two with a hungry dark look in his eyes, already naked and reclining on the bed, his back tensing as he forces his wings to retract into his body. God knows a rutting Soap doesn't have enough brain space not to crush his wings while fucking him.

Your eyes meet Gaz's. "How about he preps you?" Your question has Johnny's canine tongue lolling out of his maw automatically as if Gaz needs more convincing.

"Jesus, fuck yeah," Gaz breathes out, not even needing to be told what position to take. He flops on his stomach, laying his head on a pillow and pushes his knees beneath him to raise his arse into the air and spread his thighs wide open, vulnerable hole and hard cock almost shamelessly on display.

"God, look at you Gazzy, so eager to get your ass eaten out?" You coo, enjoying the view as much as Soap is. "Or are you imagining how pretty you'll look stuck on this big knot?" You ask, catching his eyes as you pull down Soap's boxers down just enough for his dick to poke out, already hard and wet and leaking pre like a faucet.

"How about it boy? Can you use that mouth of yours for something useful this once?" You tease Soap with your words, keeping him from lunging at Gaz. Your rough words and even rougher hold on him has Johnny nodding his head as fast as he can, unintelligent words rolling from his mouth.

"Get on with it you bloody git." Kyle demands with a blush, arching his back.

"You heard him, be good and stretch him out for your knot properly...or else." The slight edge of danger in your tone has Soap paying attention even when your words go in one ear and out the other and he dives face first into Gaz's backside the moment you let go of him. Soap wastes no time and immediately slobbers all over Kyle's skin, drawing surprised squawks from the other man as his tongue licks from his balls up to his arse and back again. It doesn't take long for Soap to concentrate on his hole, even less for Soap to bully his tongue inside Gaz flooding his hole with slobber and stretching him wide open.

"Oh fock, oh shit..." Kyle burrows his head into the pillow, trying and failing to hide his harsh moans and small chirps and sharp 'ah, ah, ah's with every twist and turn of Soap's wide and longue tongue. He doesn't care when Soap grip his thighs so hard that bruises bloom immediately, not when Soap buries his face deeper into his arse that Soap's nose is flush with his tail bone and his canine tongue abuses his prostate.

"Such eager lads." You chuckle and settle behind Soap, pulling what remains of his pants down his thighs and off him. He growls at you, before your presence registers in his mind and his tail is curling up and as soon as the pants are down he's spreading his thighs and arching his back and wiggling his arse like a trained whore. He's leaking like a tap on both ends, his cock rock hard and knot half engorged and slick staining his skin from hole to mid thigh.

"Already wet for me Johnny? And here I thought you're supposed to fuck bitches—" You grab his tail and tug it up making Gaz scream a loud-"Fuck!"- when Johnny jumps and his tongue pushes as far as it can go. "—not be one."

Soap's shaking and his dick's leaking from the rough treatment of his tail, but the appendage wags even as you manhandle it. "Shit, mate, don't stop talking." Gaz moans into the pillow, claws and talons desperately clinging to the bedding with every thrust and twist of Soap's tongue. It's like your words are a drug that push both of them deeper and deeper into lust, Soap's brain long since melted into his dick.

"Yeah? You like how good Johnny's eating you Gaz?" You ask, your fingers grasping and playing with Soap's ample ass. "Does he taste good Johnny? Just think how tight he's going to be around you, you'll stretch him good huh?" Soap can do nothing but whine at the absolute filth leaving your lips, each word urging and commanding him to shove his tongue deeper, to cover every inch of his spongy walls in spit, of bashing his prostate with his tongue until Gaz's moaning and squawking like a bitch in heat.

"Good boy," Your fingers trace against Soap's hole and fuck he's so wet for you that you don't even need to get lube, holding his tail by the base you hook and push your thumb into his waiting hole and Soap howls as his body clenches down so hard you'd think he was aiming to break bones.

"Biased much mate?" Gaz croaks and chuckles between his moans, his hips moving into Soap's face in a desperate attempt to cum, stray loose feathers disappearing between the sheets.

"Good boys." You correct yourself, pulling your thumb out despite Soap's desperate whines and pushing two fingers into him at once, setting a harsh and quick pace that has both of them whining and moaning and growling.

Your fingers are thick and calloused from years of magic use and they stretch Soap out so good he can't help but moan into Kyle's hole, barely able to pant with spit running down his lips. His rut made his prostate so big your large fingers find it as soon as you're knuckles deep and you're quick to rub and press on it with all the finesse of a tank. You keep firm hold of him by his tail and Soap cums as soon as you push three fingers down on his prostate, white ropes of cum shooting into the sheets and pulling Gaz into his own orgasm.

"Good lads, you did good." The pride in your voice has their hearts beating just a little quicker, reaching over you tug Johnny's head away from Kyle's ass with a lewd and depraved 'squelch' 'shlich' ringing through as Johnny rolls his tongue into his mouth. Shit, Gaz looks so wrecked already, wet sounds echoing through the room every time his hole clenches around nothing. Johnny's so big now, at least a foot taller than you now, but he submits so prettily to you...

Pulling your fingers out of Johnny earns you a rumbling growl, his cock not even having softened hips grinding back on yours. "Hush now." You order with your mouth close to his pointy ear, "Don't worry Johnny, you'll be nice and full of cock in no time."

Kyle shifts and gains your attention. "Kyle, you okay? Need to tap out?" You ask, pushing your absolutely drenched fingers into Soap's mouth to quiet his whining, you don't mind his teeth nicking your fingers and Johnny's so lustdrunk to care about who's slick he's tasting only that it makes his cock that much harder.

"That- nah." Kyle breathes, completely boneless but still managing to perk his arse up a bit. "Come on, just wanna feel 'im, please."

"You heard him Johnny." Pulling your fingers out of his mouth you guide Johnny to mount Gaz, one hand firmly on his tail and the other wrapped around the tip of his cock so all he can do is uselessly hump Gaz without penetrating him. Johnny doesn't even notice you teasing the both of them when you rub his tip against Gaz's hole every time his hips pull back, only to angle his cock up the second Johnny tries to thrust into Kyle.

"Focking git!" Gaz whines, and you don't need to see him beneath Soap's broad and large frame to know he's glaring at you. "Get on with it or I swear I'll string everything you own up in the trees." His threat would be a lot scarier if his voice wasn't weak and whiny from your teasing.

"Spoilsport." You tease back, blindly angling Johnny's cock tip against his hole, easing your grip and letting Soap slide his cock into Gaz in an agonizingly slow pace until only his knot remained outside of Gaz with your calloused hand clutching it. "Feels good?" You receive moans and low growls in response, Soap's mind so consumed by the heavenly heat around his cock he can do nothing but pant and thrust his hips forward. "Okay, okay, be good now." You laugh and let go of his cock.

The second his proverbial collar is taken off Soap wastes no time and begins fucking Gaz in earnest, biting down hard on his shoulder, hips and tail a blur of movement and all of his lupine strength going into jackhammering his cock as deep as fast into Gaz as he physically can. The bed 'thump, thump, thump's against the wall wall with every violent thrust, drowned out by Kyle's moans and whines and shouts Johnny manages to pull each time his balls slap against Gaz's. You can even see the way his knot stretches Gaz's ass, his hole greedily clenching around the bulb as it grows bigger and bigger with every hip shattering thrust that leaves Gaz grasping at clawing at whatever he can reach.

You don't even have time to finish undressing before Johnny's shoving his cock deep inside and cumming with a deep growl, his teeth firmly latched onto Gaz's flesh and knot keeping them tied together.

Kyle groans when Soap collapses on top of him, arms wrapped firmly around him and pinning him down to the bed as every bit of strength leaves the werewolf. "That was fast." You chuckle, going to turn them to their sides so Soap isn't crushing Gaz. You notice Gaz is still hard like a rock, a little bulge in his stomach where Johnny's cock and cum fill his insides. Even after cumming twice Soap still tries to fuck in his delirium but manages only small little shuffles of his hips that only succeed in making his seed slosh around inside Gaz.

"Insatiable monsters." You tease, one hand tracing the belly bulge and lifting Soap's leg up on your shoulder with the other, his thighs even slicker now than before.

"Man... shu'it." Gaz slurs, watching you stroke your cock a few times with hooded eyes, Soap's head buried in his shoulder and teeth creating more marks on his skin. Soap turns cuddly after a good rut, at least until it starts all over again. "Fuck, you gonna...?"

"Yep." You say, sliding closer. It's an odd position to take and your back is going to complain later, but it's more than worth it when you finally get to slide inside Johnny's soaking wet arse, pulling low groans from both of them as it makes Johnny's cock slide a bit deeper. "Shit, you're so tight Johnny."

Gaz can feel the cock inside him twitch from your praise and the vibrations of a purr through his skin as Soap tries to thrust his hips back into yours despite the knot and Soap's arms not willing to let him separate from Gaz. You begin with a slow pace and every rock of your hips has the knot inside Kyle pushing and pulling on his poor oversensitive insides, Soap's cum sloshing inside him. He already feels so full and like there's fire in his veins, but this slow and deep pace you set has his head tilting down and body fully relaxing and letting himself just feel.

Despite being mentally checked out for a while, a little bit of Soap's lucidity comes back now that he's knotted; Everything he can smell everything he can feel everything he is zeroes down on his groin, on the heavenly heat wrapped around his knot and your unhurried but strong thrusts. That's what he needs right now— to forget what it feels like to be empty and feel a hard cock spearing his insides and bullying his prostate and leaving him drooling on Gaz's skin.

You manage to push them into cuming again before your own climax reaches you and you cum deep in Soap, who in response bites down on Gaz's shoulder again. You try to pull away but Soap growls and whines, he doesn't want to feel empty again when you'd filled him so fucking good, he wants you to stay like this, keep him nice and full with your cum.

Gaz blindly grabs at you, vocalizing what Soap can't. "Stay." He manages to slur, looking like he's ready to fall asleep any second with Johnny already snoozing the moment you stop moving.

Despite the stickiness you're no doubt going to wake up with, you sigh and settle down behind Soap, throwing a hand around his massive frame and not even noticing when exhaustion claims you.

...

"Well would'ou look at that, really tuckered themselves out." Price's voice rings somewhere at the edge of your subconsciousness, though it's hard to tell when exhaustion has you so firmly by the throat you can barely open your eyes.

"Could have turned their mics off." It takes you a moment to recognize Ghost's voice somewhere near you, your body almost not your own as it nuzzles into the warm back in front of you.

This time a chuckle comes, "Don't say it as if you didn't like it." There's a teasing lilt to his voice, but your attention is stolen away when Soap moves and only now you realize that not only are you still inside him, but he's far from satisfied.

You don't even think he's awake yet his hips start moving again, pulling sounds from both you and Gaz because fuck your dick's so oversensitive you think it might fall off.

"Howa 'bout we leave them to it hmm? Looks like he's got his hands full." Price's referring to you, and you hear his snort when Soap whines and thrusts his hips back into yours again with enough force you swear you hear something creak.

God help you...and your pelvis.

[lilacargent]

Soooo first post ever and it is because i have gone down the #humansarespaceorcs rabbit hole, and my train of thought was:

Yes humans are weird and do strange things to survive. But more specifically we do weird things to our surroundings to survive, many different things.

What if, it has been a decade or two since the humans joined what ever coalition or council of aliens that work together and as a species they are mostly well known for their ability to grow crops under the worst circumstances (soil, climate anything) ofcourse the other deathworld apex predator human traits make the rounds but over time they seem to assume we cannot surprise them anymore.

Everyone knows that if a planet is ‘owned’ by a certain species they have to pay tax to the coalition, so planets that aren’t particularly useful are undesirable.

This particular planet p-jx-5£2 has been moved around endlessly, given with trade deals to get rid of it. P-jx-5£2 is 97% water, with a very high salt level so inhabitable for all developed aliens. Even though the atmosphere is a nice oxygen base and the gravitational pull allright most for the coalition members the fast spinning moon and the planets quick pace around its sun make the water move and tides switch every 2.5 hours keeping no land dry outside of low tide.

~~~~~~~~

The tall Avian alian il’trexz was elated this day was going to be great, a trade deal with the hardy humans and getting rid of a useless money drain, they didn’t have a clue what they were signing up for!

Turning towards the much smaller bipedal species standing in front of the window looking down on the blue planet that just came into their possession the strange creature mumbled something to them selves, frowning Il’trezx asks ‘im sorry what did you say, you spoke but the translator didn’t pick it up?’ The human (Steve) turned to him away from the window ‘my apologies, i was talking to myself, i said that we had to send the dutch.’ Il’trezx looked befuddled ‘the dutch? Is that some kind of animal?’

Steve threw his head back and made a series of sounds that ruffled the Avians feathers and had he not known it was a laugh it would have made him run for the hills ‘HA I’m going to tell Andreas you said that, no the Dutch is what call people from a country on earth that specialise in these kinds of climates, they’ve been begging for a challenge since they stopped the flooding on the umavi home world.’ With feathers puffed up Il’trezx wonders ‘and they are going to do what? This is an impossible planet’ immediately clasping his beak he looks a the human to see if he seemed angry at being swindled, but to his surprise Steve just looks at him ‘hm so you believe we can’t use this planet. Allright let’s make a bet.’ Interested Il’trezx leans in closer ‘what kind of bet?’ A predatory grin spreads on the bipedal aliens face ‘if we make less of this planet than the amount of tax we have to pay over it we will cover all trade costs for this quarter, insurance, travel all of it.’ Eagerly Il’trezx starts nodding ‘but’ Steve keeps going ‘if we do make more of this planet you will do the same.’

The bet is put onto paper and the higher ups of both parties also agree. In 5 years the Avians would be back and they would balance the costs to the benefits. When they departed Il’trezx says too Steve ‘you must have a lot of faith in these “dutch” ‘ the man grins teeth bared ‘ofcourse, after all they conquered water before’

The five years pass and stories have been going around of a new energy supplier from the humans, producing enough energy to run 78% of their ships and several facilities. Nobody seems to know where it is coming from but no new pollution is measured in any of these facilities. None of this bothers the Avians, after all humans come up with new things all the time.

The five years are up and Il’trezx is invited to the planet with a group of advisors and other officials, the planet which apparently they have renamed to ‘posy’ which is supposed to be short for some kind of sea god from their olden days.

On arrival the amount of coming and going baffles them massive groups of ships docking or docked and all somehow attached to wires that run into machines.

The planets change alone was awe inspiring, two cities on opposite sides of the planet and what seems like millions of weird blades attached to high poles every where. Strange wheels and long walls between towers rising from the rapidly moving waters.

This… this was their new energy source. They somehow made a battery of this uninhabitable planet and then built a home.

On the meeting place Steve is waiting with a man slightly taller than him. Spreading his arms the smaller human says ‘welcome to Poseidon, this is Andreas our main mechanic here. He has been here with planning since orbit 1.’

After the introductions were done Andreas led the group through what they called the Northern city and showed on his device the steps it took to get a foothold and how they proceeded from there, mentioning that many of these steps his home country had used thousands of year ago to gain land from sea, and energy from the movement of water and air. They specialised in this form of terra forming and it showed.

The Avians were astounded, not having realised that there was more than one kind of way the Humans had battled their environment even beating back the waters of their world.

Without a doubt the humans had won the bet and had another legend added to their name. More and more humans showed that with the right motivation they could settle right about anywhere.

********

So yea… my stupid little idea. Hopefully someone will enjoy it. I just liked the idea of specific cultures and stuff. specialising in certain things.

Edit: im amazed people seem to like it! If people have ideas or other cultures they think would baffle aliens, im certainly willing to try and write something

[idontknowwhatimdoinglol]

Yandere Olympus x human reader (headcanons)

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you were a mortal girl who had been taken in by the gods as a child. in return for this you lived amongst them working as a servant, since there were so many nymphs already there wasn't much for you to do but you always kept busy. one of the goddesses who had cared for you since childhood, aphrodite, had kept you close to her at all times rarely letting you go far from her gaze. you would help her with small tasks such as picking her jewelry for the day or helping her make new clothes, that was a more painful task. "i will never get this stitch done if you dont hold still!" the goddess complains trying to stick the needle through the fabric. "it hurts, you keep poking me" you complain trying to move away but she grabs your arm and holds you still. "i just need to make a few more stitches and-" she starts before getting cut off by the new presence in the room. "aphrodite may i speak with you" the commanding voice of hera calls from the entrance of the room. "why of course." she answers pinning the fabric together. "dont move my darling, you wouldn't want to ruin my flawless stitch work now would you?" she smirks before walking to hera, both far enough away for you to not hear what they were saying. one of hera's loyal crows had landed on a stool next to you cawing, you bent down and let it jump onto your finger petting its head. "hello pretty bird" you smile as it ruffles its feathers, nuzzling its head against your hand. "may i ask what you are doing?" hera's voice comes into the room. the bird flys from your hand onto her shoulder instead. "i-im sorry my goddess, i was simply petting your bird. they're lovely" you complement earning a nod. aphrodite comes back in and takes the fabric she had been sowing off of you. "oh dear you have so many scratches from the pins, you should see apollo he would be happy to heal them for you." she suggests hiding a smile behind you. you nod walking from her room. you were greeted by a few gods on your way to find apollo with smiles and waves, before you reached apollos temple you were stopped by the queen of the gods herself. "come with me mortal" she says waiting for you to follow. though your scratches stung you feared hera's reaction more if you disobeyed her "yes my goddess" you say following behind her. she leads you to her private room before sitting on a chair. "pour me some tea" she commands with a smirk, enjoying having you to herself. you hand her a cup of hot tea and stand near her "is there anything else you need my goddess?" you ask tilting your head. she thinks for a moment before using her powers to bring you to her lap, with a surprised gasp you are put on her lap like a child. she takes your arm that had scratches and small pin pricks from the sowing pins. "she really should be more careful with such a fragile thing such as you." the goddess mumbles. she grabs a piece of fabric from the table near her and wraps it around your arm. the two of you are interrupted by aphrodite clearing her throat from the entrance of the room. "i was worried that my little mortal had run away when apollo had not seen them yet. but i should've known they would be here, you always have liked to steal them away for yourself." aphrodite laughs with hints of jealousy. "then why dont you join us for some tea?" hera suggests. gesturing to a chair across from her. "well if you insist, only if i get a turn with our darling to" she smirks sitting down. this was your normal on olympus, being fought over by the gods. you had thought it was simply because they liked your company or help, if only you knew how much they truly loved you.

your usual day on olympus consists of at least 2 or more gods trying to steal your attention, whether its the hermes giving you flowers or other gifts he finds in the mortal realm or one of his brothers trying to one up him or if aphrodite demands a beauty day with her and artemis.

above all their fighting they still follow rules, giving an angry gglare or pouty face when another god that is more powerful steals you away. hera is famous for this, stealing you to help with the most minor tasks just so others cannot have you. only sharing with one of her friends or children.

when heron is brought to olympus things do shift. hera of course is horribly angry but doesn't start the war in this world because she knows that you would most likely end up hurt or she would be banished from olympus never to see you again. so instead she glares from afar.

you are not let anywhere near heron at first, being kept away by hera or ares. eventually though you manage to meet him and he was very kind to you, taking after the rest of his family and quickly becoming a yandere for you aswell.

of course he quickly is told that you are simply to be seen as a sibling not anything more. the gods dont want you dating because that may lead to them not getting as much of you or worse, you leaving them.

they refuse to let you grow old. once you turn a certain age they will turn you imortal whether you agree or not. youre theirs for eternity and no one or nothing will stop that.

- - - - - . o 0 O 0 o . - - - - -

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Eros: Chapter Seven

Eros: Married to Dream of the Endless, you find yourself sent back in time to Ancient Greece where you, unfortunately, meet Oneiros. Fresh off a divorce and drowning the sorrows of his son’s death by indulging in the Panathenaia, you find yourself trapped beneath the lustful gaze of your future husband. In your defense, he seduced you first…

Warnings: Nothing Explicit, Nudity, Language.

To Note: Morpheus x Wife!Reader, Time Travel, Oneiros is used for AncientGreek!Morpheus.

Word Count: ~2.1k

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The grand throne room of the Dreaming is shrouded in an atmosphere of unease. The usually calm and composed Morpheus sits on his intricately carved throne, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the marble in aggravation. His queen has vanished without a trace, and an uncharacteristic worry clouds his thoughts.

Lucienne, the loyal librarian, stands nearby, her face reflecting the same concern, and Matthew perches on the armrest of Morpheus’s throne, his dark eyes flickering with anxiety.

“My lord, it has been two days,” Lucienne begins softly, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. “We have searched every corner of the Dreaming. There is no sign of her.”

Morpheus’ usually serene blue eyes are stormy with frustration and fear. “She cannot simply have disappeared, Lucienne. We are bound together. There must be something we are missing.”

Matthew ruffles his feathers, shifting uneasily. “Boss, you don’t think it’s some kind of magic, do you? Someone messing with the Dreaming? Or worse, with her?”

Morpheus’ gaze hardens, and he looks down at Matthew, his eyes darkening with anger at the thought. “If she has been taken by magic, then the perpetrator will know the full extent of my wrath. But we must consider every possibility.”

Lucienne nods, stepping closer. “Perhaps we should review her last known whereabouts. Was there anything unusual in her behavior recently? Any disturbances in the Dreaming that could have indicated a threat?”

Morpheus’ mind races through the events of the past days. He has been preoccupied with the duties of the Dreaming, but nothing has seemed out of the ordinary. “She mentioned feeling restless,” he admits. “She often spoke of her desire to walk in the Waking World.”

Matthew tilts his head. “Actually, boss, there was something. Just before she disappeared, she went to check out the Ocean of Dreams. There was a storm, and she thought something was wrong. She dove in to investigate.”

Morpheus’s eyes widen, a mix of fear and anger flashing across his face. “Why was I not informed of this sooner, Matthew?”

The raven flinches slightly, his feathers ruffling. “I’m sorry, boss. She told me to go get Lucienne, and by the time I got back, she was already gone and never came back up. We didn’t find anything out of the ordinary at the ocean after she disappeared.”

Lucienne looks thoughtful. “The Ocean of Dreams is a powerful and ancient part of your realm, my lord. If she went into it and encountered something unexpected...”

Morpheus stands abruptly, his robe billowing around him like a storm cloud. “Then she may be trapped within its depths or worse. I must go there myself.”

Lucienne nods. “I will continue searching the archives for any records of disturbances in the Ocean of Dreams. There may be something we’ve overlooked.”

Morpheus turns to Matthew. “You will gather the ravens. I want them scouring the Dreaming and the Waking World for any sign of her. Leave no stone unturned.”

Matthew nods, taking off to carry out his task. Lucienne bows and quickly departs for the library, her mind already racing through the possible texts she will need to consult. Left alone in the vast throne room, Morpheus lets out a slow breath. His connection with his queen, so strong and vibrant, is eerily silent. He cannot sense her anywhere, and that absence gnaws at him.

As he strides out of the throne room, determination etched into his features, he reaches out with his senses, feeling the vast expanse of the Dreaming. He will dive into the Ocean of Dreams himself if necessary. The thought of her being trapped, alone, fills him with a fear he rarely acknowledges.

With every step, he resolves to uncover the mystery of her disappearance, to bring her back to his side where she belongs. He will not rest until his queen is safe once more. Morpheus arrives at the shores of the Ocean of Dreams, the usually tranquil waters now churning with an undercurrent of unease. He stands at the edge, his eyes scanning the horizon, feeling the pull of the ocean's ancient magic. He will find her, no matter the cost.

Taking a deep breath, he wades into the water, letting its cold embrace wash over him. As he dives deeper, the currents grow stronger and more aggressive, mirroring the turmoil in his heart. He reaches out with his mind, seeking any trace of her presence, any clue that could lead him to her.

The depths of the Ocean of Dreams are vast and mysterious, but Morpheus is relentless. He will search every corner, face every danger, to bring his queen back. His love for her is deeper and more powerful than any magic, and he will not rest until she is safely in his arms once more.

Morpheus paces the floor of your shared chambers, the ethereal light casting long shadows across the room. His normally composed demeanor is shattered by the torment of not knowing where you are. He has scoured the Dreaming, reached into every nook and cranny of his realm, and found nothing. Even the Ocean of Dreams has turned up nothing! His thoughts race as he considers who could have caused your disappearance. His anger simmers beneath the surface, ready to boil over at any moment.

His mind is a whirlwind of possibilities, but none seem plausible. You are powerful, and the protections around the Dreaming are impenetrable. It would take formidable magic to whisk you away without a trace. He stops his pacing and runs a hand through his dark hair, his thoughts briefly interrupted by a flicker of a memory—your wedding, the joy in your eyes, the warmth of your touch. He had asked you whatever you wished for, he would give you… you had told him that all you wished for, was him, and he had only fallen deeper in love with you.

He is about to turn to make another round of the room when a shimmering light appears, and you are suddenly standing in your shared bedchambers. You are naked as the day you were born with wide round eyes and shock plastered across your features. Morpheus should have been staring at the state you are in—love marks covering your body and evidence of lovemaking thoroughly coating your thighs—but memories flood his mind like a rampant tidal wave.

You wake with your face buried in a pillow smelling of marjoram and flowers. Feeling like your entire body is one big ache, you struggle to roll over onto your back and blow the hair out of your face. You blink a few times, making sure that you do, in fact, still have legs, before trying to roll to the edge of the bed. Son of a—

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter to yourself, feeling embarrassed that you are this sore from copious sex alone. Oneiros certainly has a healthy appetite for the indulgences of the flesh. You wouldn’t complain though, you haven’t seen that catastrophic glower of sadness and devastation upon his face in days. Job well done, you suppose. But you really need a bath... you glance down at your thighs and cringe. Your combined releases are smeared all over your discolored thighs, and when you stand up, you all but moan out loud when you feel it dripping from you.

“Bath, definitely need a bath,” you grimace, nearly waddling forward on what feels like newborn legs. Mustering up the strength, you take careful steps, teetering around on sore muscles. But as you make it to the center of the room, a flash of electricity runs along your skin, and your vision goes black. Floundering for a few seconds, you force yourself to remain calm until your vision returns moments later… but you are certainly not in the same place as you were a second ago.

Blinking away black dots, your eyes go round the moment you spot Morpheus standing not far from you, frozen where he stands. He looks disheveled and ill, paler than you have ever seen him. A few seconds go by and he still hasn’t moved.

“Morpheus?” you question in a small voice, your voice cracking a little from soreness and the shock of the sudden change in surroundings. Morpheus remains still, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and relief. He had thought he would never see you again, feared the worst had befallen you. The sight of you standing before him, albeit disheveled and confused, is like a caress to his tortured soul.

How many weeks has he spent looking for you after you disappeared from his bed into thin air? Endless. It was impossible to understand your sudden disappearance from Athens. He had wallowed in misery and despair, the absence of your presence weighing heavily on his heart until he ultimately moved on.

“αστέρι μου,” his voice is raw with emotion, his usual composure shattered in the wake of your sudden return. Your brain connects what is going on in his head. He is remembering you. His gaze drops to your body, and you shift as a flush crawls up your neck.

“In my defense, you seduced me first,” you softly mutter, not seeing the raging jealousy flashing through silver-blue eyes. You think, perhaps, that he would be angry at you for having sex with his past self, and he would certainly have every right to be so… but that is not what is running through his mind. All Morpheus can think about is how Oneiros has indulged in your body and repeatedly filled you with his seed. Jealousy rears its ugly head all the while the Endless can’t help but feel an intense lust for you. He wants to reclaim you from Oneiros. Right. Now.

Your heart pounds in your chest as Morpheus takes a step closer to you, his eyes darkening with desire and possessiveness. Then, in an instant, he is on you. His lips crash against yours in aggressive possession as a hand buries itself into your mussed hair. You can feel the intensity of his need in the way he kisses you, a mix of hunger and desperation that sends shivers down your spine.

You instinctively grab onto his shoulders, not quite expecting this aggressive onslaught but also not wanting to fight it. His kiss is raw, unfettered, a testament to the depth of his feelings. As your minds meld once more, you can feel the mixture of relief, desire, and possessiveness radiating from him in waves.

His hands move from your hair to your waist, pulling you closer. The hard lines of his muscular body press against you, reminding you of the intense passion the two of you have shared. The desperation in his kiss becomes more apparent and your own desire stirs within you. The realization dawns on you that he is trying to reclaim you from Oneiros. The clothes have to go.

“Clothes,” you barely manage to eke out between tongue-tying kisses that leave you feeling drunk. His lips never leave yours as Morpheus dissolves his clothing from his body and pulls you against his naked flesh. As he envelops your body in his strong embrace, your skin tingles with the sensation of his warm, bare skin against yours. His touch is electric, a mixture of tenderness and urgency that brings forth a whirlwind of emotions.

His hands roam over your curves, tracing every line, every contour, sending a storm of desire coursing through your veins. Each touch, each kiss, is a claim, a valid reaffirmation that you belong to him. The memory of Oneiros fades into oblivion as Morpheus' deep, silken voice whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

"You are mine, and only mine," he growls, his eyes burning with possession and an intense desire to make you his own once again. It is a claim that reverberates through your very soul, leaving you breathless and completely under his control.

“For as long as you shall want me,” you return, raising your hands to cup his face. His eyes flare with intensity, fueled by the raw desire that courses through his body. He knows that his claim to you is unmistakable, yet he can't help but feel the reassurance in your words. “But I do have to ask…”

Morpheus’s eyes glow as he waits for you to air your question.

“Are you jealous?” You watch as his expression twists with a mixture of surprise, annoyance, and, yes, jealousy. It is an emotion he has kept well-hidden, but seeing it now, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

"You think I would be jealous?" he scoffs, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Beloved, if you are still able to use your legs come the morrow, I am not jealous.”

Well, shit.

Date Published: 6/12/24

Last Edit: 6/11/24

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[kuroko-no-cuties]

How Kuroko and Akashi would react to their girlfriend calling them a short king 👑

AKASHI…

Would completely freeze at his desk. He’d slowly turn his thankfully monochromatic maroon gaze towards you before uttering a slightly amused/offended…

“Pardon me?”

You struggle to hold in a snicker as you reiterate your previous sentence. “I said, ‘Don’t overwork yourself My Short King. You should take a break.’”

His eyebrow twitches and you’re not entirely sure what that means. Even though Bokushi isn’t in command any longer, normal Akashi can still be rather unpredictable when he wants to be. That’s why you’re pretty dumbfounded once your normally composed and calm Akashi let’s out a loud “PFFT!” and presses a fist to his mouth to fight the growing smile on his lips.

“You’re rather remarkable darling…I’m…not quite sure how to respond to that…” to which you bat your eyelashes and reply, “Well how about by taking a break an spending some time with your darling?”

He snickers once more (wow twice in one setting, what a giggly boy he is today) and stands up from his desk to take you by the hand.

“So be it then.”

Now, Akashi Seijuro is…Akashi Seijuro. He’s not gonna let some little crack his girlfriend made about his height get to him. He will, however, make a conscious decision to straighten his back and hold his head high around you, just to make it clear who is actually the short one in this relationship.

KUROKO…

Would look at you confused but immediately see that you’re trying to tease him and just pretend he didn’t hear you.

You poke his cheek and snicker, “Oi, I know you heard me Tetsu.”~

“…”

“Come on, My Short King, answer the question. Where do you wanna go to ea-“

“Would you mind not calling me that. Please.”

He replies in his usual soft tone as he keeps his gaze focused on the novel in his hands. You bite you lip as you attempt (and fail) at holding in a snort. You can’t really tell if he’s just refusing to play along with your little game or if he’s genuinely upset that you made a crack about his height. You mull over whether you want to take it easy in him or not. You decide to end the short jokes, but concluded that one last little teasing nudge wouldn’t hurt. You throw your arms around him and kiss his temple. “Aww sorry Tetsu-kun. I didn’t mean to make my little blueberry angy~” you coo in a baby voice while nuzzling his cheek.

Kuroko bristled from underneath your arms. If there was one thing that ruffled his feathers, it was being treated like a child. He experienced more than a fair share of embarrassment at getting demeaning head pats from Murasakibara that one time at the street game. And let’s not even talk about how “Dad” picked him up like a toddler in front of his whole team. So yeah…jokes about his stature aren’t exactly his favorite things. He knows you’re just messing with him and trying to have some fun so he decided not to take it too seriously- however that doesn’t mean he’s gonna let you off the hook Scott free.

He closes his book and slowly stands from his desk and you mistakenly take it as a sign to continue on to the topic of food.

“Ah great! So where do you wanna go? I was think about this cute new cafe that ju- kya!”

And just like that the phantom sixth man has you pinned against the wall. His hands in either side of your head. He leans in, slowly to emphasize the height advantage he actually has on you, while biting back a smile at the flustered look on your face.

“Sorry, but who exactly is the short one in this relationship?” He whispers, his baby blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Uhh…I…”

You’re at a lost for words. Did your invisible simple vanilla, blue boy Tetsu seriously just kabedon you? And size you up? Who is this kid?

After seeing you’re dumbfounded expression, Kuroko takes it that you’ve learned your lesson. He lets out a soft snort as he gently reaches for your hand and pulls you along out the door.

“Sorry, I decided to get you back but maybe I went a little too far. Anyway, let’s go to that cute cafe you mentioned, Shorty.”

….no seriously….who IS this kid?!

[thewritetofreespeech]

Tressym can be Fickle

WORDS: 692 RATING: G PAIRING: Gale x Tav SUMMARY: based on a very real arguement between my husband & I on who our cat likes more.

It had been a long, arduous, grueling day at the academy.

Though Gale loved his new role as a professor and educator, teaching the young minds of witches & wizards all across Faerun to harness their magic, induction week was the worst. He felt his life was in less peril fighting the Elder Brain or any of their other enemies & cohorts along the Sword Coast than he was now. Testing the new inductees to file them accordingly to their skill. ‘Skill’ being a very loose word tossed around this week.

He returned home that evening with a heavy sigh through the door, an even heavier thud of his satchel filled with books, and a desperate need to be tended to by his spouse. The whole day had been about soothing the egos, feelings, and on occasion literal wounds of new students that Gale thought he deserved some tending to now.

“Tav?” He called out as he put his cloak away. Usually, they greeted him at the door. Or at least acknowledged him when he came home. Curious, Gale walked through the house to try and find them. His search not long as he came upon Tav in the living room. On the couch by a low fire, with Tara on their lap. “Well….don’t you two look cozy.”

“Hmm, we rather are Mr. Dekarios.” Tara agreed. “Or at least we were, until someone started shouting.”

“Apologies for shouting in my own house.” Gale snipped at Tara. Taking his own plush armchair across from them. “Since when did you become a lap cat? And, before you get too ruffled under the feathers, it’s a figure of speech.”

Tara hummed. Seeming to debate about not letting it go but was perhaps indeed to comfortable to make a fuss. “Very recently I suppose. I never had an interest until now.” The tressym purred with her eyes closed as she tilted her head up towards Tav and her head scratches.

“You never took an interest with me.” Gale said with a deep frown.

“You do not have nails, Mr. Dekarios.”

The wizard growled and stood up. Unable to watch his dearest friend and lover betray him like this in front of his own eyes. It was still early for dinner but he stalked off towards the kitchen to focus his frustrations on what to eat.

A few moments later, Tav came in. Looking confused on why he was so upset. “Sorry.” He apologized quickly. “It’s just been a long day. And I am glad that you and Tara are getting along now. Guess I’m being….overly sensitive at being shut out. Tressym can be fickle, but I’ve never known Tara to change her mind about anyone. Again, not that I’m not pleased you two are getting along. I just never thought I would suddenly be second in her estimation.”

“Suddenly second? Please Mr. Dekarios.” The couple turned to see Tara trot in. Seeming interested in their conversation. “I wouldn’t say that you were suddenly second. Not given my high esteem of your mother. A better estimate is which one of you is second on the day, and who is third.”

“Really Tara? Kick a man while he’s down??”

“But, I’m a reasonable creature. Perhaps my estimations can be over swayed. Perhaps with a bit of chicken? Fried pigeons if you have any?”

“So a creature of reason but not honor, eh?” Gale stated, with a wave of his hand as if he wish to brush away this whole conversation.

Before he could leave, Tav wrapped their arms around his waist. Pulling him close. The smell of their hair in his nose. Something like ‘you’ll always be number 1 to me’ muffled into his chest, which causes him to smile and hold them back.

They tell Gale to go upstairs and relax. Take a bath if he liked, while they made dinner. That sounded heavenly, so he did just that.

When he came back down, he was not amused by the roast chicken on his plate. Nor the grinning little tressym in the corner, licking her chops like she’d just swallowed a canary. Or, perhaps, her bribery chicken.

[sant-riley]

Uhhh brain wracking brain wracking-

Imagine S/O surprising Ghost with their strength by picking him up and perhaps spinning him around

They insist that he's as light as a feather. They're visibly struggling while holding him up

Thank you anon for the food, I haven't written anything in AGES I'm sorry if I'm rusty but fuck it we ball, gonna do these as bullet points!

Warnings; nothing I can think of! But as always, lmk!

(Literally me and Simon)

Trying and somewhat achieving in picking up Simon!

The first time you bring it up, asking if you can attempt it, Simon looks at you like you're fucking stupid.

He's a big dude, bigger than most and will almost always be the biggest person in the room, he's built like a fucking mountain.

You throwing him pretty eyes and begging for his permission isn't gonna change the fact that you're smaller than him, you'll hurt yourself, he knows you will, so he says no.

This does nothing to ward you off, only fueling you to want to work out and gain upper arm and body strength to prove him wrong out of spite.

He'll ask Soap where you've been in the last few weeks,, noticing your slight absence when training hours are over, nowhere to be found an hour or so afterwards.

Soap only chuckles and throws a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the gym where the creaks of the workout gear can be heard still.

"They're still workin' wouldn't tell me why though."

Simon makes his way towards the gym, leaning on the doorway as he sees you huff and puff as you do sets of bicep curls.

He can't help but a small smirk run under his mask, you're so committed to this. It's so stupid, but he can't deny it makes him happy.

No one can just pick the man up, takes Price, Gaz and Soap usually to keep up right and that's with his arms thrown around their shoulders.

He still doubts you'll be able to, but he's flattered. You're trying (asshole)

Simon creeps silently to you, waiting til you set down the weights before whispering out a "boo", his shit eating grin when you yelp and whirl around, wide eyes staring oh so prettily up at him.

"What the fuck! Why would you do that?" "It's funny." "It is fucking not." "Mmm, sure is."

He moves to ruffle your hair, ignoring your hand swatting at his own.

"Why are you here afterhours? You're missing chunks of your dinner." He knows why, he just wants to hear you admit it.

"Is it a crime to work out some more? To stay in top shape for our job?" The eyebrow he raises is catastrophic, immediately calling you the fuck out without any words.

"Okay, fine. I've been working out so I can prove to you I can pick you up."

At this point, he figures he can humor you, you've been trying so hard.

"Y'know what? Why the hell not, cmon, try and lift me."

"Are you fucking with me or-" "hurry up before I change my mind." "Aye Aye sir."

He stands in front of you, arms loosely at his side, head tilted to the right as he watches you get into form.

The key to lift with your legs, the strength in them far outweighing anything else, wrapping your arms across his stomach (a feeling of electricity jumps up his spine at your touch, he hopes you don't notice.)

You take a deep breath, nuzzling your head into his chest and try your fucking damndest to lift this behemoth of a man up and to your and Simon's surprise, you DO manage to lift him up, at least an inch of the ground before your legs buckle and you shakily place him down.

A whoop leaves your mouth, jumping up and down as you giggle about lifting Ghost, "I did it! You weren't that heavy at all!" Simon can literally see the sweat on your brow, but he just rumbles out a laugh and moves to plant a masked kiss on your temple, congratulating you on your win over him.

You run out into the base, no doubt going to tell the others about your feat.

He sighs a gross lovesick sigh, and moves to grab your gym bag from the bench and follow after you.

[bubblybloob]

I dare you to draw smitten with either cold or the beast, you pick.

This is because I said I hadn’t gotten many asks for the Smitten, huh?

This might actually be a bit more Cold focused, long thing I wrote below.

There were fights, a lot of fights, actually. How could there not be? Eleven voices given form, only to be cramped back into one space. At least this time it was a house, not a body.

It wasn’t a bad thing, far from it; Hero wagers most were thankful for the permanent, familiar company, while the rest indifferent. Hero himself quite enjoys chatting or playing games with the others, it isn’t uncommon for him to seek out one of the voices simply so his stirring thoughts can have an outlet.

However, sometimes the others don’t click. Usually it was fine- Broken, Hunted and Contrarian seldom got physical. Opportunist and Paranoid might if they felt strongly enough about something to throw away their pretenses or fear, but they weren’t often the issue.

The rest tended to jump to bold accusations and wild conclusions, looked forward to it even. Skeptic occasionally found himself going from relatively mundane quarrels to all out brawls from causing accidental offense. Stubborn and Cheated had a tendency to get too excited about coming out on top in one way or another, and the other two…

Sometimes it felt like they only ever fought each other.

Okay, that was lie, Cold purposely ruffled the other’s feathers out of pure boredom. Hero wondered if he had made up some sort of challenge to see if he could get the non confrontational voices riled up for a fight, given how often he pushed their buttons. Once he flat out punched Contrarian in the face just to see if he’d retaliate.

If Cold couldn’t get them to crack he’d sigh with something akin to dejection and approach someone like Cheated, maybe Stubborn if he was feeling risky- pretty much anyone with a shorter fuse so he could get some form of thrill.

But they weren’t his go to, that would be- of course- Smitten.

“You vile, wretched thing! I won’t hear another word of nonsense out of you. Begone! Foul creature!”

“Call me all the names you like, you won’t get the response you’re looking for.”

It happened just about every other day: Cold would say something off putting, Smitten would respond with something that would offend anybody else, a bit of snarky back and forth later, and suddenly hands were being thrown.

“What are they arguing about this time?” Cheated grumbled, coming up to stand beside Hero, whose eyes were encircled by dark shadows.

“I ‘dunno, woke up to them yapping at each other, or at least Smitten’s yapping, I don’t think Cold has ever raised his voice.” Hero yawned out, scratching at his horn tuft.

“With how often those two are at each others throats, I think we should count ourselves lucky one is so soft spoken.” Cheated stretched his arms and body upwards, his wings instinctively snapping outwards and flapping as he tried to relieve his muscles. The large wings smacked Hero’s side as he did, which had the heroic voice stumbling backwards as Cheated mumbled a small “sorry” out.

“It’s fine. I think it’s less that he’s soft spoken and more that he’s sharp spoken. He talks like he knows where all your vitals are.” Hero responds, shivering at his own words.

Cheated shrugs. “Probably does, he’s our resident freak after all.”

“How is it then that you feel nothing? Without feeling one will rot away, yet you’re still here.” Seems Hero had missed part of drama during his and Cheated’s little chat. Smitten had now grabbed Cold by the chest feathers and was looking ready to tear into him.

“Who knows, really? Maybe I’m like a ghost, haunting the remains that our godly self expelled. Or maybe we simply can’t die, I haven’t eaten in a while.” Cold replies with a sharp whistle.

“Ooo, he shouldn’t be so candid about saying that out loud, never know when Hunted’s listening.” Cheated says behind a wicked smile. No doubt the avian had tucked the information away for blackmail, or to get a favor from Opportunist, who also found a new joy in digging up dirt on the others for his own benefit.

Hero was about to step in at this point. Smitten looked ready to let loose, and Cold seemed to be passively soaking in the drama of it all. But before Hero could open his mouth, Smitten’s hold relaxed, and his head hung low.

“No, I see through your tricks, scum. I will not loose myself to anger over frivolous things such as this. Leave, now, I must prepare myself for the morning time.” Smitten let’s go of Cold’s feathers, which were not bunched together and frayed. Cold hums something tired.

“Weak willed of you, can’t approach her killer?” Cold tilts his head.

A flinch. “I know what you’re doing, I won’t fall for it this time, villain!” Smitten whips around, and goes to walk from the conflict.

Cold’s wry smile falls flat on his face, he turns his head toward Cheated.

“Not today pal, Paranoid seemed extra twitchy though, probably didn’t get much sleep. It’s still early and he isn’t fully alert in his head, might be able to start something up with him if you push hard enough.” Cheated suggests. Hero punches him in the arm, just when he thought there would be no morning fight to put down.

Cold’s brow raises, evidently interested in a fight with someone who rarely raised his hands. He moves past the two, already on the prowl for their jumpiest member.

“Troop on, you emotionless fuck- ow, stop that!” Cheated yelps when Hero punches him again, this time a little harder.

Cheated’s words seemed to have stopped Smitten in his tracks however, he mutters something to himself, and whips back around. “You can’t be as dispassionate as you claim! You’re merely afraid of your own feelings!”

The accusation makes the Cold stop dead. His expression is hidden, but Hero swears he sees his feathers puff out. He expects them to quickly flatten back down.

But they don’t.

Cold slowly turns the upper half of his body, his face looks… almost strained. His composure had finally cracked.

“Hmm?” He darkly hums. It’s an oddly moderate response, given how Cold takes any and all opportunities to tease whomever he talks to, especially for outlandish claims such as this.

They were outlandish… weren’t they?

Hero had a bad feeling in his gut, one he couldn’t explain.

“I’m right.” Smitten looks a little surprised, before a damn near elated expression creeps onto his face. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Cold doesn’t respond, still half turned to leave. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t swayed in the past ten seconds. Hero wonders if he was still breathing.

“You aren’t unfeeling at all, are you? You’re full of emotion! What’s is it then that makes you push them under the deep, dark waves of the heart? Fear? Want? …Guilt? I can guess what it’s for.” Smitten continues with his theory, the Cold still hasn’t retaliated.

“Ooo, might be onto something there, Smitty.” Chester looks almost excited as he says this. His words seem to encourage Smitten further, who puffs up under the praise.

Cold stands there.

“Go on then, tell us the harsh truth, fiend. You’re no emotionless husk.” Smitten moves closer and closer to Cold’s position. Hero wonders if he should put himself between the two, but he can’t say he isn’t interested to where this is going.

Smitten stands face to face with his Cold counterpart. Hero swears Cold shrinks back under the close attention.

“You’re afraid.”

For a moment, they stand there, a stare down. Hero briefly hears the faint phantom sounds of glass breaking under the weight of godhood.

In a blink Cold draws his arm back, and his fist connects to Smitten cheek.

—

WoooOooO cliffhanger that might never keep going.

I’m unsure if this is common theory or whatnot, but I’ve not for a moment believed Cold was emotionless. I think he’s hurt by what’s happened to him, so much so that he thinks being emotionless, acting only to entertain will bring him some form of twisted comfort.

I think he’s too afraid to let himself feel, so he pushes his feelings far, far down, and pretends he feels nothing. He’s so good at it that he believes it to be true.

He’s so good at ignoring both physical and mental feeling that he himself believes he is nothing but a thrill seeker. In reality, his emotions, his physical needs, it all hurt him, so he squashes both.

Think about it, you usually get him by killing the princess in cold blood, and then subsequently stabbing yourself. Both hurt him. He only knows hurt from both, so he throws them aside.

[poisonedprose]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷. KINKTOBER DAY 21. LITTLE LAMB

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

warnings: 0.9k words, kinktober smut, mean!ghost, virgin!reader, cursing, pet names (little/lamb), corruption kink, degrading kink, dumbification kink, sir kink, publicish sex, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, pwp

masterlists

Ever since you had joined the task force, Ghost wasn’t keen on showing up on time for training. You were so incomprehensible with your small top that practically had your tits spilling out at the low neck line and your cute little strawberry shorts that you wore, and two french braids in your hair as you worked at the punching bag. Your form was almost abominable. Small punches, headphones over your ears, not paying attention to your surroundings.

Ghost tries not to, but it’s hard not to stare as your tits bounce with every punch. The guys all snicker and stare, some making fun of you while others do everything they can to get in your pants. Somehow, you were oblivious to all of it. The jokes they would make about you, or when one of them decided to flirt with you but you thought they were just being friendly.

The only thing you weren’t oblivious to was how much Ghost seemed to avoid you. He’s never made eye contact, that much you noticed. You figured your personality just wasn’t something that interested him. He never seemed to do something unless he gained from it.

Your headphones were gently pull off your ears. You snap your head back to see Ghost standing behind you, your headphones in his hands. “Yes, Lieutenant?” You ask, looking up at him with innocent eyes. He hated when you did that. “You’ve been here all day. Go rest.” He grumbled as he handed your headphones back to you.

“But, sir-” He made a grumbling sound at you words. “I don’t want to hear it when you’re sore tomorrow.” He seemed to be annoyed. “I can assure you I won’t be sore tomorrow.” You weren’t eager to protest, but you still wanted to train. You knew you weren’t the best on the team and you knew it was a miracle that you even made it on the task force.

He rolled his stern eyes, the only part visible of him through the mask. “Then let me help you. You’re going to hurt yourself. I don’t have time or patience for that.” You nodded, afraid to protest in case he would change his mind. You placed your headphones on the floor next to your water bottle.

You spun back around to look at the punching bag, awaiting Ghost’s orders. “Feet apart.” You obeyed, looking at the ground, specifically at your feet, to gauge how far apart you pulled your feet before returning to look at the punching bag. “Stand up straight.” You hummed in confusion. You felt like you were already standing up straight. He sighed and placed his hands on your waist, forcing you even straighter. You made a small yelp sound, which made Ghost chuckle.

“Don’t get your feathers in a ruffle.” He remarks, leaving his hands on your waist. “Sorry, sir.” You muttered, face heating up from his touch. It was silent for a moment as you waited for his next order but it never came. You turned your head slightly to look at him, silently asking what was going on.

“What are you looking at? Did I tell you to look at me?” He spat and you quickly looked back at the punching bag. “Sorry, sir.” You said once again. “Dumb girl.” He mumbled but you heard it clear as day. "I didn't think I needed to tell you to hit the bag. Didn't know you were so incompetent." He continues, his hands still on your waist. As much as you hated to admit it, his words had an effect on you. You clenched your thighs together, biting back the urge to whine or something along those lines.

"Is that all it takes to get you goin'?" He chuckles, clearly noticing your actions. I mean, after all, he was trained to notice minuscule things like that. His grip on you grew tighter. He leaned down, covered mouth right next to you. "Answer me." He growled. "Yes, sir." You answered immediately, ashamed how his touch and words alone made your panties all wet and left you with a feeling you weren't familiar with.

His chest pressed against your back, one of his hands snaking down to cup your pussy through your adorable shorts. You gasped to which he snickered. "This is what you get. Paradin' around in those cute little clothes. Bet you flashed your tits to anyone who asked." He degraded. "No, I haven't!" You pouted, though he couldn't see your face. "Oh? No? Is that so?" He said, condescension dripping off his tongue.

He slid his hands up your body, one hand over each tit. "Everyone watches 'em bounce when you're punchin' the bag. Gettin' everyone hard without even realizin' it, huh little lamb?" His thick british accent rang through your ears, your brain getting all fuzzy. "'m sorry, sir." You utter weakly, timidness in your voice. "Ya better fuckin' be."

Ghost slid his hands back down your body, swiftly sliding a hand into your shorts. "You like this, lamb? You like when your lieutenant shoves his hand down your pants?" You nod but that doesn't seem to satisfy him. "Use your words." He commands as he applies pressure on your clit. "Y-yes, sir." You gasp out, never having felt the pleasure he was giving you. "I'm gonna ruin you. Ya hear me? I'm gonna split you in half with my cock." He promised, pulling your shorts down.

You made no move to stop him or protest. Your eyes landed on the door as the cool air hit your soaked cunt. Anyone could walk in at any second to see you being manhandled by your lieutenant but you couldn't care less. A string of your arousal stuck to your panties. "Look at you, lamb. So ready for me to abuse your hole." He coos.

He bends you slightly, your hands meeting the wall with your back arched. He moves his hands to your hips, grinding his hips into your ass for his own pleasure. “Look at this tight pussy. Can barely stick a finger in there.” He snickers as he slides a finger into your entrance. You moaned, only ever feeling your own fingers before and they never once felt the way Ghost’s did.

“Gonna get you so dumb on my cock.” He mutters and adds another finger, stretching you out with a sting. He makes a calm pace, fingering you and slowly working you to your orgasm. But, of course, he doesn’t let you reach it, pulling out before you felt the build up you desired.

You were about to complain but the sound of his pants being unzipped kept you quiet. “Gonna make a mess out of this pussy.” He rubs the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you before giving in and shoving his cock into your cunt. You whine, louder than you would’ve liked, the stretch of his cock so much more intense than his fingers. “Bloody hell.” He groans, not letting you adjust as he snaps his hips into the plush of your ass.

His thrusts are rough and you can’t get a single word out. Your eyes are rolling back in your head, drool dribbling out of the corner of your mouth. “Bet you’ve been wantin’ this. Huh? You’ve been wantin’ me to fuck your virgin pussy, little lamb?” His voice is breathy, and sweat starts to glisten his skin. You want to respond, knowing he might get mad if you don’t but all that leaves your lips are whimpers. “Of course, y’have, you dirty dirty girl .”

[luvfy0dor]

“I Get Drunk on Jealousy ♡⁠˖” BSD Boys x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

Warnings; Jealousy/possessiveness, cursing (Nikolais), Sassy men

Description; Fyodor and Nikolai and how they act when they're jealous with short scenarios.

A/n; Thank you all so much for all the asks and 300 followers!! It means so much to me 💜 I hope you guys enjoy this, because I have like,, 7 child reader requests so I don't know how many romantic fics I'll have out inbetween, but we'll see!!

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

→ Fyodor will let you know if he's jealous through snarky and sarcastic remarks.

→ That being said, Fyodor knows you're not leaving him. He just wants your attention, especially since most of his time he's too busy with work to receive it in copious amounts.

ೃ⁀➷

Fyodor could feel his eyelids starting to droop as he sat at a fancy table with lacy white cloth and clear glass centerpieces filled with beautiful flowers. The once majestic speckles of darker tones that occupied the flower were becoming boring and bland the more he stared at them. You told him a solid five minutes ago that you just wanted to say quick goodbyes to the attendees of your work party, but you didn't seem to be in any rush. He eyeballed you from across the room while you spoke to a coworker with a smile on your face; a smile that he had been robbed of for the past three minutes because you were talking to that guy.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, watching him tuck some of his hair behind his ear and sigh. You decided it would be best to swiftly wrap up the conversation and return to his side. "It's been great, but I think I gotta get going." You say with a soft chuckle. He waves you goodbye and you head back to Fyodor, your shoes quietly colliding with the cool tile of the floor. His eyes flicker back up to you and he immediately stands, reaching for one of your hands and grasping it gently.

"Finally ready to leave?" He said, a hint of sass in his voice as his eyes squinted slightly. You rolled your eyes and ran your thumb over his knuckles. "I was only talking to him for three minutes." You say leaning into Fyodors body as the two of you walk out of the party. You knew exactly what was ruffling your boyfriends feathers in the moment without him having to say any more than one sentence. "And that's a “quick goodbye”, in your words?" He questions, his voice stable and smooth. You sigh in defeat and shake your head, knowing that you probably should have wrapped things up quicker. "You're right, I'm sorry, Fedya." You apologize. "But it's not the end of the world." Squeezing his hand, you both continue walking, the cold evening air hitting your face when Fyodor opens the door for you.

"Do you not talk to him every day at work?" He asks with a raised eyebrow, holding your body close to his own. You sigh and lift your head off of his shoulder. "I said I was sorry." You murmur. "I forgive you, Moya Lyubov." He quietly sighed and rubbed his thumb affectionately on your hip as your car came into view. "Well you surely don't act like it. You drag things on sometimes, Fedya." You say, glancing up at him out of the corner of your eye. A miniscule frown creeps onto his face. "Oh. Do I?" He questions. You just nod before unlocking the car and reaching for the passenger side door handle. "I'm sorry, malyshka. I just want you to know how I feel." The soft apology leaves his pale lips as he reaches up to cup your cheek.

"It's alright, I understand." You mumble. He nods and lets go of you with a small smile and kisses your cheek before walking around the car to the driver's side. The both of you get in while trying to suppress the shivers and 'brrr''s that the cold night air had offered you, even through your warm clothing. Fyodor quickly starts the car and turns the heat up, blood becoming focused in his cheeks and nose while he rubs his arms for warmth. "You know I'm much happier to go home with you than to have spoke with him for another second, right?" You tell him, bringing the topic up again like you had criticized him for. You felt hypocritical but couldn't bring yourself to care in the moment. "Ofcourse I know that." He tells you, straightening his posture and looking over his shoulder in order to back out of the parking space. "I just think you could have used those three minutes on me instead." You nod in response. "Well while we're home I can spend all of my time on you if you quit dwelling on those three minutes." You tell him, reaching over and placing a hand on his thigh. He exhales and nods, keeping his eyes on the road. "Alright, I'll hold you to that, Myshka."

Nikolai Gogol ★

→ Nikolai is your favorite jester, therefore he should be the only one making you laugh! Seeing other people do that for you ticks him off, especially if it's someone just as serious as Sigma.

ೃ⁀➷

Nikolais arms were around your waist as you sat on the couch, his attention glued to the TV show the both of you were watching. He had been on a recent kick for shitty reality tv shows and was currently knee-deep in an episode of Jersey Shore. You had lost interest in the mindless arguments not too far in and had been talking with Sigma via his new WhatsApp account that you made for him. Your fingers were gliding across the bottom half of the screen as you replied to his messages with small smiles and even a couple of giggles.

Your snickering had drifted it's way to Nikolais ears, and he couldn't help but peek over at your phone when he noticed nothing on the show was particularly funny. His eyes widened when he realized that SIGMA was the one making you all giggly like this. His fingers slide down your shoulder to pinch your arm, making you gasp and turn your head to him. He quickly grins and steals a kiss while simultaneously snatching your phone from your hands. You pull away with a dissatisfied hum, reaching for the rectangular electronic that he held out of your reach via a portal. "Hey, what's that for?" Your eyebrows furrow as you speak, a bit annoyed by his sly grin. "There's no way Sigma is that funny, dove." He claims, using his ability to place the phone on a far counter. His hand pulls back through and cups your face. "I know funny people, and Sigma is not one of them." He says with the tip of his nose nearly touching yours.

"Well he can have his moments." You defend your friend's humor or lack thereof to your boyfriend. "His moments are when he misses a step on a flight of stairs. That's about it if you ask me." He says, his eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed. "If you wanted to laugh, you should have asked me." He pouts, mumbling as he goes back to watching the TV. You raise an eyebrow and grab onto Nikolais hand. "He's not funnier than you, Kolya. I laugh at one message and you're gettin' all worked up." You quietly say, running a thumb over his knuckles. He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, his brows still angled inwards. He switched his position from having his knees to his chest to sitting criss-crossed facing you, his frown still evident on his face. "I made a joke the other day and you didn't laugh." He says, his tone snarky. You can't help but roll your eyes at his ridiculous statement. "Okay, that was one time. I laugh at all of your other jokes, Kolya, I just wasn't in the mood." He looks rather dissatisfied with your answer, chosing to ignore you over it. "Oh, come on." You say, crawling into his lap and trying to get his attention back on you.

"Is this your way of trying to make me jealous in retaliation? Because your attention is all on the TV? Do you think Pauly D is hotter than me, babe?" You satirically ask, to which he scrunches his nose and rests his hands on your side and ass. "No. You've got a much better personality, darlin'." He leans in and kisses you sweetly. Upon pulling away for oxygen, you hear his voice speak up once again. "But if you keep laughing at Sigma of all people, he may start to look a little more appealing." He teases, his Cheshire Cat smile almost mirroring you less-teethy one. "Yeah, cause Pauly D wants you." You reply, pulling him in for another kiss which he happily returns. His eyes fluttered shut as your lips collided so sweetly, a great contrast to the angry yelling and censoring bleep sounds coming from the TV. "He doesn't know what he's missing, huh?" He plays into your joke. "One hundred percent. I love you Kolya, and I'm sorry if me laughing at Sigmas message made you upset." You apologize, kissing his cheek as an apology. He hums and rubs your back while occasionally gripping at the fabric of your shirt. "It's alright I suppose. I love you too, my dove."

A/n; Ugh no one knows how much I love writing for Nikolai. I think I just feel confident that I'm characterizing him correctly, if I'm not PLEASE humble me

[hollowtakami]

TREAT ME LIKE ROYALTY

Keigo Takami x GN!Reader

BANNER ART: Kadeart

CONTENT: MNDI! imagines/spending valentines with keigo, fluff + smut (some worshipping + stuffing themes, mostly vanilla) w/ aftercare. (this got very long </3 i lovedd writing it though!)

WORD COUNT: 638

AUTHOR NOTE: sorry for being so inactive!! i’ve been put on new meds, and it’s all very new to me so i’ve been getting used to it</3 nonetheless, i hope you have a wonderful day/night! you’re so loved, friend!

Keigo Takami, who flies to your window and knocks his knuckles against the glass clumsily, right on the time you agreed. You don’t realise it’s because he’s clutching a bouquet of flowers in one hand, your favourite kind. He’s all dressed up in a fancy tux with his bangs slicked back - he’d spent hours making sure they wouldn’t bounce back. 

Keigo Takami, who carries you in his arms, is careful not to mess up your outfit as you fly through clouds. Under the stars, he smiles and tells you he has a surprise for you; he did his best to keep his eyes on the horizon, but his heart was telling him to look down at your perfect face the whole flight.

Keigo Takami, who prepared a rooftop picnic, complete with candles. Away from prying eyes and cameras, away from the commission. He sets you down and takes your hand, ushering you over to a cushion placed by a picnic blanket decorated with all your favourite food. He pours you a drink as you lift your glasses up to the stars, raising a toast to your love. 

Keigo Takami, who specifically chose the tallest skyscraper in the city for your surprise date so you could be closer to the stars and watch them together. Resting your head on the cushions and Keigo giving you his blazer jacket to keep you warm, he holds you close as you stargaze. 

Keigo Takami, peppering you with kisses as you slow dance under the moonlight and create new memories together. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear and reminds you that you’re his one and only forever. 

Keigo Takami, who you knew meant every word he said when he slips promise rings from the pocket of his jacket with a sly feather, the blazer still on your shoulders. His eyes gleam like stars, his smile just as nervous as his words as they wobble from his lips, genuine promises of loyalty and devotion to you, and you alone.

Keigo Takami, who worships you when you get home, hands tracing your skin as he grips the plush of your sides like a vice. Gentle kisses down your stomach as he lays you down and spreads your thighs apart with one hand, his free hand teasing your sex.

Keigo Takami, who can’t get enough of your sweet noises as he tastes you, tongue lapping at your slick with soft puppy licks. Feeling his plumage ruffle at your whorish sounds that only he can get out of you, his lips kiss and suck your sex as he savours all he can of you. 

Keigo Takami, who sees stars whenever he fucks you. You take him so well, look so perfect under him. His eyes worship you, the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and the way your mouth wobbles open as his cock kisses your insides. He whines when you clench around him, his legs like jelly. 

Keigo Takami, going slow as he makes love to you and makes sure to give you a night you’ll remember. Making sure you feel every vein on his cock as you suck him in, your hips meeting as skin slaps together and the smell of sex fills the air. 

Keigo Takami throws his head down as he cums and his bangs fall and stick to the sweat on his forehead. Ropes and ropes of white fill you, the feeling enough to send you over the edge. He pulls out slowly, feathers ruffling as he sees his seed spill out of your hole, a frothy white ring around where he stuffed you full. 

Keigo Takami, who bathes with you and massages shampoo into your scalp with gentle fingers, treats you like royalty as he dries you off and helps you get into comfier clothes. His heart skips a beat when you reach for his hoodie and sweats. 

Keigo Takami melts like putty when he sees you with them on. Taking you to a bed with fresh sheets and blankets now ready, strawberries and chocolate on the bedside, he holds you as you laugh at cheesy rom coms until you fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

[boundinparchment]

Slow, Love, Slow

“Sunday. Please look at me.” He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and then looked at you, eyes scanning your face. He cast aside the papers to the coffee table without glancing away. “Do you even know that you’re doing it, my love?” you asked. In which you and Sunday discuss his habit to pay too much attention to his wings under stress. Sunday/Gender neutral reader, established relationship. TW/CW: Contains plucking of feathers as a form of self-harm. While this meant to be a fic from a caring point-of-view, if this topic is difficult for you, please don’t read. Rated Mature to be safe.

On AO3 here.

At first, you thought it was a trick of the light and that his wings were merely ruffled from stress. The gap wasn’t too noticeable, the top layer looked a little thinner. It wasn’t until you noticed more tiny feathers near his mirror in the closet or in the bathroom that you considered, perhaps, something else.

He’d been so focused on the preparations that he hasn’t been sleeping enough. Even your time together was a compromise: reading a report next to you on the sofa and occasionally explaining every time he scoffed or muttered. Of course, he only ever shared so much with you because none of this was for you to worry about.

Sunday was wrong, only in that you were worried about him and always would be.

Another evening, you were relaxing next to him, and you watched his bare hand idly go to one wing as he read. He smoothed, preened, but then seemed to fixate on one spot, over and over. You reached over and took his hand gently, and he looked up, blinking at you like he only just realized you were there.

“Do you want to talk about what you’re reading?” you asked.

“It’s…not particularly interesting. Budget proposals for each Branch. Some of these just seem…superfluous. The Oak Family has final say but Alfalfa will be…adamant in negotiations, asking where the extra funds will be pulled from…”

Something crossed his face as his wings flexed and that’s when you spotted it.

It was a gap most wouldn’t have spotted, one he no doubt spent an extraordinary amount of time trying to fill. A primary feather, towards the smaller secondaries and a little less prominent. He’d once told you that, although Halovians weren’t birds, some of the same principles applied; his feathers molted, they helped regulate his balance alongside his more human-like traits, and any major changes to them would have lasting effects for months, if they ever truly recovered. Even if they were trimmed for fashion, it was never beyond a certain length.

He gave you the congenial smile he gave everyone and your lips trembled. Why was he lying to you? Or did he not recognize this as…

Adeptly, he moved his hand to take yours and kiss it.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. It’ll grow back in time. Please don’t worry.”

When he looked away from you, your hand yours again and eyes back on the papers as if this was nothing more than an inconvenience, you carefully reached over.

It probably hurt to move that wing now, because of the picking. He was always handsome, and it wasn’t so much the gap you cared about as his comfort and wellbeing…he had been candid that he struggled with balancing his workload, but this…

“Sunday. Please look at me.”

He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and then looked at you, eyes scanning your face. He cast aside the papers to the coffee table without glancing away.

“Do you even know that you’re doing it, my love?” you asked.

Sunday sighed, considering your words.

“Sometimes. Other times, all I can think of is how the feathers aren’t laying right, they didn’t molt properly, and it bothers me so much that I…” he paused, looking towards his wing, wordlessly finishing his sentence.

“I know you’re under pressure and I can’t do much except help so you don’t have to think about anything else,” you started. “But it hurts to see you in pain like that.”

“I’m sorry. You won’t have to see—“

His knee-jerk reaction was to apologize and fix; you hadn’t lived with him for years at this point without experiencing that first hand. You cupped his cheek, mindful of his wing, and brushed your thumb along his lower lashes.

“It’s not me you need to apologize to; you’re the one who experiences the consequences. Your wings are special. If they’re in pain, I can’t touch them, and I want to be able to do that. Can we see if there’s a way to keep your hands busy, so you don’t feel like plucking?”

Sunday shifted on the sofa, his hands seeking yours and holding, clinging even, as he kept his gaze down. He brushed his thumbs over your knuckles and leaned his head into your other hand. At times, he reminded you of a cat, and you resisted the urge to touch his other wing, a little healthier than its brethren. They were sensitive, and depending on context, you were able to lull him to sleep or keep both of you up all night.

Only you could touch them. Even that only came after years together.

They were important to you.

Sunday was important to you.

“I’m sorry for what you’re dealing with,” you whispered. “Please take care of yourself a little more.”

He pulled and you immediately relented, melting forward to lean into him as he arranged himself along the length of the sofa. Instinctively, you curled up, and nestled him between you and the back of the couch. Sunday buried his face in the curve of your neck, one wing carefully folded as the other extended to caress your cheek.

“I will, beloved.” His promise was implicit, steady and unwavering. “I love you.”

You stroked the back of his head and then carefully traced his wing bone, soft and gentle. The way he taught you how to pet a Charmony Dove.

“I love you, too, Sunday.”