#surfaces that actually keep them upright

[cassiebones]

Parks and Recs All Along Episode 3: Revelation

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[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 4 to Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Something has changed; no, actually everything has changed as you and Simon forget the world a moment finally let that passion run its course. The thought was that once you both had each other it would make things calm, but now you're not so sure. Maybe he is willing to risk more and maybe you are too. Having to sneak around isn't so bad, right? Maybe it could all work out... At least you hope so.

Word Count: 9.3 k

Warnings:

Part 5: Read here

Isn’t finally having the thing you’ve been craving supposed to calm the need for it? 

That’s what Simon had anticipated would happen once you had both come, but as he lays you back onto the cool floor of the shed, sliding up between your legs so that your lips can reconnect with an immediate breathlessness, the depth of his desire is still so overwhelming that he is choking on it, he has never felt more wrong. Gathering your wrists into one of his hands, he sets them above your head as his brown eyes flutter closed and he embraces your mouth as if it is his to ruin and with enough passion you feel drugged off its intensity.

No, finally having you has awakened a longing in him that he has never known before and nothing can stop it taking over until he feels completely consumed by it. 

The sounds of the stormy weather outside slowly die away and are replaced by the stillness of night as Simon’s wide torso keeps you pinned against the ground as if by the act of physically shielding you from the world he can stop the passage of time and stay immersed in the haze of ecstasy that your union has produced. How is he supposed to break the spell of this feeling when he didn’t know how starved for it he actually was until you brought it to the surface?

Time is forgotten as the pressure of his body molds yours to its curvature and soon another quarter of an hour has passed within a blink. One of you has to be the voice of reason and the longer his face stays locked to yours, the harder it is going to get; it’s inevitable that this has to end for now because he is drowning and if he doesn’t come up for air soon he isn’t going to make it out of here alive. Something has to be done and done fast. 

“We need ta get outside,” he murmurs through a break in your mouth’s connection. 

Why can’t the world just fucking wait a little longer? Goddammit, he is nowhere near done exploring you yet, but there is still a job to be done and duty has to call him back no matter how much he tries to wish it away. 

With a defeated groan he pulls his lips away from yours and suddenly a wave of misery washes over him. “Fuck, this is hard, luv,” Simon breaths into your face, the tip of his nose brushing up against yours as he struggles to keep his mouth away from taking yours again. “Just wanna stay here with ya all night.”

A shiver runs through you as his withdrawal from your lips leaves an emptiness in your chest that the cool night air seems to fill. You yearn for his mouth to come back, for him to say fuck it all and put it all on the line just to stay in here with you, but it’s not possible. 

You don’t fight it as he sits you both upright, keeping his arms around you for as much warmth as possible as he reaches over to first grab your bra and shirt off the ground. He makes certain to clean you up before helping you to slip the clothing back on to block out the weather so that he can release you without the temperature making you chilled. Simon gets to his feet and offers you his hand to help you up and you take it. 

You continue to watch in quiet surprise as he gathers the rest of your clothing, everything that he had removed just a short while ago. Except instead of just handing it off to you he bends down with your pants in hand and opens them up so that you can step into them. It’s a strangely tender ritual that you’ve stumbled into, the way he helps you get dressed as he does the same to himself in tandem: insisting without words by gently pushing your hands away each time you try to stop him so that he can zip your pants and buckle your belt up himself. You stand there silently through the delirious haze of your ecstasy admiring his work as a peculiar tugging aches in your chest. 

Another shiver runs up your spine, but it isn’t from being cold this time. 

Everything he had on before goes back on again, even the mask, though you notice his bone-patterned gloves stay shoved in the pocket on his vest. As he finishes his eyes drift to the door with a heavy heart because he knows that he’s stalled long enough and he is going to have to pull the bandaid off now otherwise he is never going to want to leave and someone needs to be on watch. 

A deep inhale and he opens the door to the refreshing, crisp atmosphere outside of your oasis. Simon emerges into the world as a different man than the one that went inside. He has a new addiction that leaves him feeling drunk with the way his head is still spinning and limbs feel heavy. Never did he think he would be forced to wrestle with the fact that his duty to this taskforce is no longer the most important thing to him, that everything he has known as truth is being turned on its head, and that it would be all because of you. A little infatuation is becoming more complicated and he doesn’t know how to handle it all.

Your eyes flit back towards the house as Simon shuts and secures the shed behind you with your heart sinking into your stomach. Wracking your brain you can’t come up with any more excuses to linger longer and you know it’s time to say goodnight whether you want to or not. 

“I-I guess I better head in,” you say as the lieutenant comes back to stand by your side, the disappointment in your voice hard to disguise. 

There are words on your tongue that you want to say in that moment, to bargain with him to keep you out here a little longer, but they get lost behind your lips and you instead stay silent; there is no sense in fighting the inevitability of your situation. You try to take a step, but before you can even make it a pace Simon’s hand reaches out and his knuckles brush up against yours before he hooks his fingers around your own so you are stuck in his grasp.

The act is done unintentionally, yet he doesn’t stop it. Maybe you could risk just a bit more time together as long as you can stay outside. There’s still a couple hours till Soap is scheduled to relieve him, so whatever excuse he can make to keep you out here with him, he will. 

“Have a smoke with me ‘fore ya go,” he says, more a demand than a request. 

Maybe he’s just as desperate not to have you go yet either; you can only hope that he needs your company just as bad as you need his. “Is that an order, lieutenant?” you clarify, playing off the nervous adrenaline making your voice tremble by teasing. 

As he peers back into your eyes sparkling in the moonlight, lighting up happily at the sentiment in his words, the attraction gripping his heart is too strong and he draws you back into him as he rips up the bottom of his mask to place another brief, but impassioned kiss to your lips. “It is, sergeant,” he answers. “Let me do my perimeter check and I’ll meet ya back at the front. Wait for me, yeah?���  

Those strong arms of his desperately want to stay filled with your body, but he has to let you go so that he can do what he is here to do. Another quick kiss he gives you before he pulls down his mask as he leaves you standing there in a stupor, head reeling with everything that has happened, and you take off back to the patch of ground a few yards from the front of the house where you had been set up before. 

Sitting in the grass under the stars with the cool breeze rippling through the loose strands of your hair, you think yourself alone for the moment as the thoughts race through your mind, but from within the house a pair of eyes secretly watches you from the shadow of the window. Even in the pale moonlight they catch the way your smile glints through the dark followed by the several deep breaths you take to calm yourself and they wonder if this is a result from the lieutenant walking out earlier that rustled them from sleep. 

Maybe it is nothing, something completely harmless, though they can’t help to wonder where you both were when the storm was at its peak. They continue watching until they hear footsteps near the front of the house and decide to creep back to their bed to avoid detection both from inside and out, making a mental note to stay aware of what they have seen tonight. 

You wait patiently in silence as you mull over your feelings until the sound of fast-stepping boots approaching breaks you out of your thoughts and looking up you see Simon has stopped right at your side. He shifts back a step and takes a seat on the ground behind you, parting his legs around your thighs so that you are seated between them. Tugging you to scoot back until you are against his chest he grabs the pack of cigarettes from his vest pocket as an arm snakes around your middle.

Keeping his hands off you isn’t an option anymore, not as the enchanting magnetism of your body that calls for his touch still tingles under his fingertips.

Moving his mask up and out of the way and placing the stick of tobacco in between his lips, he flicks the lighter to make it spark and takes a long pull as the tip glows bright orange. That first kick of nicotine he holds in to let it fully coat his lungs until the calming effect it produces fills his chest and pacifies his heavily beating heart. He exhales the billow of smoke and takes another puff before handing it down to you.

You’re not much of a smoker, but accept the cig willingly if only for it to chill you out so that you might be able to sleep once you leave here to go back to the house. Bringing it to your lips, you inhale deep as Simon’s head rests up against the side of yours. The contact causes you to shudder in his arms

“Are ya cold?” he asks, tilting his head around the side to catch your face in his sight. 

You shake your head, releasing the smoke from your mouth with a smile. “Not anymore” you answer as you pass the cig back for him to take his turn and settle against him. 

“Good,” he says through the inhale he takes, “can’t have ya bein’ uncomfortable, not wit me.”

There is a peace that settles over you both, cloaking you in a silence that doesn’t feel forced or uncomfortable. No words are needed to fill in the space, nothing that has to be said aloud anyway, as two people simply enjoy the physical company of the other, passing a cigarette back and forth taking shorter and shorter puffs to make it last as long as possible.  

The fact you cannot stay here in this moment for as long as you want feels like a crime.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, your gaze shifts towards the sky and you can see the clouds drifting away into the distance to reveal the clear night full of stars that has been concealed behind them. You stare up at those twinkling bits of light with a sense of wonder, unaware that Simon has not followed your gaze heavenward. 

“Clouds are finally clearing out,” you say offhandedly. “Guess the storm’s passed on. You know, I always like how beautiful the sky is after a heavy rain. All that chaos leads to everything becoming so pristine.”

There is something here that he finds beautiful, but it isn’t what’s swirling up above your heads; he’s holding it in his arms. He wants to say it aloud, he can feel the sentiment tickle the back of his throat, but for a reason he does not quite understand he stops himself and simply hands you back the cigarette after he takes his turn.  

It isn’t long until the cig has dwindled to nothing and once again you are thrust back into the reality of having to part. You check your watch as Simon flicks the butt away; it’s getting late and you need to get inside to try and get some rest so that you will be able to at least function tomorrow. 

“I should go, your relief will be coming before too long,” you say as the feeling of his lips pressing to your neck.

Simon nods against your shoulder as he too knows it’s time. He releases his arm from around you as he shifts you back to face him; one last look at you before you go.

Why is it so hard to find the words? He’s never been as tongue tied as he has been around you, but he’s able to settle on a phrase that he finds suitable enough. “Sleep well, yeah?” he says and you give a smile in response.

The feeling of his mouth hits you as he leaves you with one last kiss for you to take and you move up onto your feet a little less gracefully than you want after he breaks it. Your hand trails over his shoulder as you take off towards the house without looking back, feeling that you are stepping out of a dream as you make it to the door and shut it behind you.

His sight remains on your form until you step back inside the confines of the house and out of view. Suddenly being alone in all this silence has his mind spinning as it goes over the events that have transpired tonight. He’s usually so in control of himself, years of training making him the perfect soldier to push everything aside except for the task at hand, but now his emotions are running rampant through his veins.  

Though you’ve not really been too close before this, you aren’t strangers. Simon knows you already: he has been around you long enough to understand your sense of humor, your work ethic, how well you boost morale during long missions, your constant kindness no matter the circumstance, and you know him in similar ways too. It comes with the familiarity of serving together for the last couple of years, making the quick intensity of your intimacy so natural.

Taking another cigarette from his pack, he inhales more of the numbing smoke as his mind involuntarily wanders back to how you felt in his arms and how perfectly your curves fit into their embrace. It’s better than he had ever hoped it to be during all those restless nights he spent telling himself that his infatuation with you would pass, that you deserved better than a bastard like him, that he should leave you alone. Now with everything that has happened between you and even though he knows it's wrong, he needs you so fucking bad… what he deserves be damned.  

You make him feel alive for the first time in years and fuck is that something that has him in it’s clutches.

Now he just has to figure out how to keep this up without detection. The lieutenant ponders the rest of the night until he is suddenly brought out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. “Ya came back for…” he says as he turns with a smile on his exposed lips as if expecting you to be standing there only to be met with the masculine, stubble-covered face of his other sergeant, causing him to startle and rise to his feet, dropping his nearly finished cigarette as he scrambles to calculate a way to explain his statement.

“Came back?” Soap questions, his eyebrow raised curiously as a knowing smirk spreads across his mouth. “Nah, first time I been out ‘ere. Didn’t mean to scare ye, just ‘ere as yer relief. Seems yer a bit lost in yer head tonight LT. Were ye expectin’ someone else?”  

A quick clearing of his throat as the lieutenant stomps out the butt of his smoke and pulls down his mask to hide the surprise on his face. “No,” he says firmly, “just didn’t expect ya ta be so fuckin’ quiet. It’s not like ya ta not make noise.”

Soap eyes the lieutenant up and down, but doesn’t push his joking any further, even though he has the perfect opportunity to pick on his superior because even in the dim light outside he is sure that his shirt is on backwards. The look in the lieutenant’s eyes says it all, that he doesn’t want to be messed with, and the young sergeant decides it best to leave it alone by sending the lieutenant on his way with nothing more than a nod as he takes up the post.   

By the time Simon reaches the inside of the house, you are already fast asleep in your cot from what he can see in the darkness that fills the room. You have always caught his eye, but God, you look so fucking beautiful just in your natural state. He quickly surveys the room to be sure everyone is still out before he quietly and carefully steps up to your side on the way to his own bed. 

 With a light touch his fingertips gently brush over the loose hair near your ear to tuck it securely behind as he studies your calm and serene face. You don’t stir and he doesn’t want to wake you, so he creeps back over to lay down in his own cot, keeping his eyes focused on your form through the pitch black until sleep finally takes him as only one thought rolls through his mind.

Tomorrow evening can't come soon enough. 

The day goes off just as it should without a hitch, though the way the lieutenant has had to keep his distance from you has proved to be much more agonizing than he had hoped. So, as soon as everyone is asleep, he does not hesitate to join you near the end of your watch the same as the night before. The thrill of this new and exciting connection is the catalyst that pushes him to ignore any warnings in his mind to take this slow; he wants to be near you as much as he can as he realizes that he can’t deny what he wants if he is going to keep up appearances when the sun is out. 

Sitting in the spot that is becoming the usual meeting place, you are caught by surprise as his rough palm grazes the skin underneath your chin as he tilts it back to him while his other hand cradles the back of your head. His full lips are already exposed so that the moment your eyes meet he is already bowing his head to envelope your mouth entirely with his own so hard that the hair on his jaw pricks your face as his tongue slips in to taste you.

And the midnight world behind your closed eyelids explodes into fireworks.

Minutes pass without a care as his kisses take you away into a realm of pure bliss, the passion collapsing any reality outside of him and the microcosm his touch creates. In that timelessness wrapped in all of that euphoria he finally breaks away to rest his hand against your cheek, silently stroking it with the pad of his thumb as that piercing gaze follows the contours of each and every detail that comprises your face as if he wants to commit them all to memory. 

“What?” you ask quietly after a few seconds, curious about what he is thinking.

He shakes his head as he answers. “Nothin’,” he says quietly without stopping. “Just like lookin’ at ya is all.”  

Breathing becomes near impossible as the tug on the strings of your heart is enough to make you collapse. Who would have guessed that behind that rough exterior that the lieutenant dressed himself in day after day is a man whose heart is bigger than he lets on? It is clear from his kiss alone that he has been struggling all day to keep it together just as you have, but now that you are back together again all that evaporates into thin air.

Simon takes his place sitting wrapped around your body and the moment his hands brush against the bare skin of your arms, your breath catches in your chest and your pulse begins to race. The feeling of the heavy pounding he can sense through his palms and that excitement immediately floods his body, making his touch start to wander.

“You aren’t concerned about anyone catching us?” you ask as you lean into his chest. 

Simon shakes his head. “They can’t see anythin’ from this angle,” he reassures. “I gotcha, don’t worry; I just need ta feel ya again, pretty girl. But tell me ta fuckin’ stop and I will.”

Those strong fingers play cautiously around the waistband of your pants as he waits for your response. His body is beginning to vibrate with how instantaneous his need overtakes him as you are under his touch again. 

“Don’t stop,” you breathe. “Don’t ever fucking stop, Simon.”

You can feel his lips near your ear. “Open your legs for me,” he urges in a deep, guttural groan that makes the hair on your arms stand up as he uses both hands to undo your pants and slip inside them. 

Everything goes so fast after that: the way he has you moaning and panting like a dog in heat is almost too easy and before you can think your pants are off and he is desperately thrusting his aching cock inside you. It is becoming apparent that his appetite for you is insatiable and as you come you realize that this is going to be a delicious problem that you don’t want to find a solution to other than this.

“Just so ya know, pretty sure your pal Mactavish knows somethin’s up ‘tween us, though,” he chuckles as you finish fixing your clothes and sit back down facing him. 

You knew this was a possibility, especially after all the jokes he’s been making lately, but hearing it out loud just solidifies a worry you’ve had rummaging around in your head since the beginning of all this. The anxiety must be present on your face as Simon feels compelled to continue. 

“If he wanted to, he coulda done something about his suspicions long ‘fore now. Just wants ta be a little shit ‘bout it is all,” he says.

That’s not what concerns you the most; Johnny has never betrayed your trust before and you are mostly sure he wouldn’t now. No, getting caught doesn’t seem half as distressing as the thought that has you in its chokehold. You hold Simon’s gaze with worry in your eyes. “Does this mean we shouldn’t do this again? I mean… if Johnny suspects then that means something must have been a sign to give us away and any of them could pick up on it as well.”

“Is that what ya want?” he questions back as a lump forms in his throat that he desperately tries to swallow down. “Do ya want ta stop this?”

Simon knows this would be the best option, to call it before things get even more out of hand than they already are, but as he waits anxiously for your answer all he can think about is how much it’s gonna fucking hurt if you pull away from him now.

“See, that’s the problem,” you admit with hesitance as you divert your gaze, unable to look into his face; you can’t take this back once you say it aloud. The intensity of it all has you unsure of yourself, but there is something about Simon that causes you to be honest, even to a fault. 

“I don’t want to stop,” you sigh.

The instantaneous relief that immediately hits is overwhelming and unconsciously Simon’s hand reaches out to turn your face back to him. “Then I don’t either,” he confirms as the pad of his thumb strokes over the smooth skin until your features soften and he can finally steady his pounding heart again. “We’ll just have ta be careful is all. I’ve… wanted to be near ya for a long while now, even before Mactavish pulled me into his silly fuckin’ game, and it would fuckin’ tear me up to give it all up so soon.” 

He had thought about you before? It surprises you to learn that you weren’t the only one that was struggling with infatuation. “Really?” you ask.

Simon nods as he takes your hand in his. “Needed ya for so fuckin’ long, thought I was gonna lose my goddamn mind. It’s been hard tryin’ to keep my distance. Christ, I used ta get so fuckin’ worked up at seein’ other recruits askin’ ya out, thought I was gonna break one of ‘em cause I wanted that ta be me.”

“Well, you have to worry about that anymore,” you say as you watch him gently play with your fingers. “I never wanted any of them anyway; they weren’t worth the trouble.”

“Then what do ya want, hmm?” he asks, watching you closely.

You look up from your hands to his face. “You,” the answer just comes out effortlessly. 

That word, that one fucking simple ass word is the only thing he has ever needed to hear. From that moment on there isn’t a night that passes without him finding some way to see you, whether it be for minutes or hours, he does what he must to get to your side. Even if the days are long and rough, he is missing sleep to be with you however he can.

It isn’t just about the sex, though his need for you stays insatiable. Simon starts to talk with you about anything and everything: what’s on his mind, anecdotes from his past, funny things to make you laugh, and you find yourself sharing in turn as well. On nights when things are too risky to even touch you as he wants, he finds himself just content to sit and share the thoughts in his head. It’s so easy to talk to you that sometimes he finds himself feeling like you’ve always been this way and it catches him off-guard how right it seems.

Time on this mission passes quickly in your company and sooner than you realize it is time to return to base, another success under your belts. You’ve both built a strange routine on your time away that you bring with you back home, though you’ve yet to have the discussion of defining what this is. Honestly, you don’t feel the need to; you are committed to him and he seems committed to you and in your line of work where guarantees aren’t always an option, that is enough. 

The only problem in returning is now that you are back you’ve gotten closer to the source of danger and with every risk you take as you navigate how to keep this all up, there are more scrutinizing gazes around to take notice of the bond you’ve formed. You’ll have to be twice as sneaky, twice as vigilant, twice as cunning to make sure you aren’t found out. Ultimately, it is a small price to pay because the alternative does not even register. You both make the promise to each other to do what you can to keep up this charade of normalcy to try and not get caught; whatever you have to do to keep seeing each other like this.  

But there are also benefits to being back, like dreaming about how you can actually screw around in a bed instead of on the ground or in a dilapidated building, if only you can figure out how to get some alone time. From the moment you set foot on home soil it’s like everything and everyone is determined to keep you both too busy to find the time after a mission that could not have gone smoother. 

And of course you can’t forget that Johnny is going to organize a night out at the bar now that you have a bit of free time. It’s his second favorite pastime, the first being a nuisance. It is right after debriefing the day after your return that the scottish sergeant catches up to you to tell you the news and make sure that you are on board for the plan.

“Yer comin’ yeah?” he asks as he finishes giving you all the details about when the usual group is gonna take off later that night.

Goddammit, you curse internally. 

All you want to do is get a few measly hours with the man your heart pines for daily now, but that option is immediately crushed the moment Johnny utters the question. Of course you can’t say no, it’ll look suspicious to back out without any reason since you’ve never backed out of these sorts of things before. Simon loiters not a few feet away, having hoped he could capture you a moment just to steal a quick word and maybe a kiss, and you sneak a quick glance over at him, hoping he can read the apologetic expression in your eyes.

Your glance doesn’t seem to be subtle enough and Johnny follows the hastiness of your eye-line over to none other than the lieutenant who is standing at the end of your gaze. You hold your breath a second as you wait to see what he will say, but instead of making another snide, knowing joke at your expense, it’s like he only just now realized that he has left someone out of his plan and that won’t do. 

“Oi, LT, yer coming too, yeah?” he calls over to ask.

Soap’s timing might be terrible, but the idea of there being less people on base tonight might just play to the lieutenant’s favor. Perhaps after a bit of socializing you both can somehow slip away from the crowd and get some alone time together. It’s worth a try. 

“I guess,” Lt. Riley agrees, playing up the agitation in his voice to mask his true feelings.

Johnny turns his attention back to you. “See, even the lieutenant is coming. Are ye?”

You huff exasperatedly as you see from the corner of your vision Simon nod his head, giving you a sign to agree to go and it clicks. This might be a way to get near him again. “Fine, you got me. Who else is gonna keep you in check when alcohol is involved?” you pick as you sock your fist into his shoulder. “Can’t have you getting us banned from our favorite place over some bullshit.”

The bar is only fifteen minutes from the base, just close enough that you can all walk without having to drive; something that has saved your drunk asses on several occasions. You walk at the back of the group as thankfully Johnny is involved in a heated discussion with Gaz about something and is too busy to keep his eyes on you. Simon slips in close a few times to brush his knuckles against yours while shooting you hungry glances.  

You all settle into the routine of hanging at the local spot just as you always do; Johnny’s even wrangled a few others from base that weren’t on your recent team so that the tiny bar is packed with taskforce members. Everyone gets started on round one and then two, though you are able to keep nursing the one drink you ordered when you got here all night as you need to keep your wits while Simon is close.

A bit of laughter, a lot of conversation, and a couple of games of pool where you kick Johnny’s ass once he’s good and liquored up and the night is going fast. That’s when the lieutenant decides that he can’t take it anymore. You have both allotted enough of your night here that it wouldn’t look suspicious to head out and he decides it’s time; he wants to get you alone and if he doesn’t act soon the night will be over. Getting up from his seat he makes his move over to the wall where you are putting up your pool cue before you head back to the table with the rest of your teammates. He is at your side in no time and you nearly bump into him as you turn around, but he catches you so you don’t fall.

Simon leans in close against the side of your head and lowers his voice into a gruff whisper; he has to make this quick. “Ya wanna get outta ‘ere?”

Never have you agreed to something so fast before that you don’t even have to think about it; quickly you nod. 

“Meet me outside in ten, I’ll be waitin’,” he continues before pulling away expeditiously, hoping the interaction is brief enough that no one has seen. Your eyes dart down to your watch to catch the time so that not a second will be wasted, wanting to follow his directions to the letter. 

Your heart is pounding in your ears as you watch the lieutenant walk back to the table, finish off his scotch, and grumble his quick goodbyes before stalking towards the door and out into the night air. Each second that the clock ticks away takes what feels like an eternity and it is agony waiting for the last bit to pass so that you make your excuses to leave. 

The second hand finally hits the tenth minute mark and you immediately jump into making your excuse that you’re just really tired all of a sudden and need to head out before the alcohol makes you trip over yourself. It takes you a minute to placate the group, the lie seems flimsy at best, but  when you do you dart for the door before you can get pulled into any more conversations. 

Once outside you find Simon patiently standing there propped against the brick of the building near the corner where he is cloaked in shadow, taking a long drag from an almost finished cigarette that he holds in between his long fingers. The faint orange light glowing from the tip dances across the lower half of his exposed face to get caught in his eyes, making him look animalistic in the low light of the parking lot.

That autumn gaze pops up as he hears the approach of footsteps and he instantly flicks away the butt of his cig before you make it to him and he can immediately pull you close.

“Hope you weren’t havin’ too much fun back there,” he says with a nervous chuckle, “but it …uh… was gettin’ hard to sit there with ya so close and not be able to fuckin’ touch what I want. Couldn’t wait anymore.” 

“Likewise,” you agree. “I was ready to go.”

He can feel the way you tremble in his grasp as your eyes keep falling back to the area of his lips; it’s been a few days, you must be dying for them again just as much as he is dying for yours. Being under your relentlessly intimate gaze again has him growing hot and hungry and throwing caution to the wind he cannot hold back until you are completely safe.

“Come ‘ere,” he says as he pulls you by the belt until your body is flush against him. “Jus’ a quick one ‘fore someone sees.”

Not wasting a second he urgently leans his head down to meet your lips and take them with force and in a flash he is reeling through the overwhelming beast of his desire, not wanting to let go even to leave this unprotected spot. The strength it takes to break the magnetism causes his body to shudder, but eventually he is able to pry his lips away long enough so that he can break their charm. 

“Let’s get back to mine quick, yeah?” he struggles to ask against your lips as he is suddenly out of breath. “Don’t think they’ll miss us now and I’m done wastin’ time. Need ta take this opportunity ta spend some alone time with ya.”  

How could you say no to that? You aren’t about to pass up on a chance to be with Simon. Even though you don’t know how long you have, any amount of time is enough and you will make the most of it. “Let’s go,” you say and like that you both take off into the night.  

His hands stay plastered to your body the entire walk back, the forbidden nature of your endeavor to get onto base and into his quarters undetected making you both excited to the point of disorientation as pulses begin to race violently. The closer you get the more warm your cheeks become as sensitive nerve endings spark to life across your limbs and a familiar heat gathers between your thighs.

Hurriedly Simon opens the door and pulls you into the confines of his dimly lit room, the door quickly closing behind you both with a quiet latch. No sooner has the door shut than he is on you, crushing you in between him and the door as his mouth can’t stand being separated from yours anymore. 

“Goddammit, I just can’t fuckin’ leave ya be,” he breathes against your parted lips as he pulls your hip in tighter to him until he is sure you can feel the bulge forming in the crotch of his jeans. A pulsing meets your thigh as he rotates until you can feel that thick appendage prod into the muscle. “Ya feel how hard I am already, yeah? That’s what ya do to me, luv. Got me actin’ like I’m fuckin’ young again, excited ‘nd horny all the goddamn time.”

His hands now grasping at your shirt take hold and pull the scant article up over your head to toss to the floor. Your hands immediately move to his pants as he takes off his shirt to throw it next to yours; you have to remove any barrier between your bodies. In a flurry of lips and limbs you find yourselves naked as Simon pulls you to his bed ready to devour you… only instead of lust being the only emotion he feels, there is something else there.

In the quiet of his room the tension permeates the space like a heavy fog as he sits down on the soft surface of his mattress and pulls you on top of his lap. As skin is pinned to bare skin he is overcome with emotion and his hands begin to caress your body with such admiration as if you are made of something sacred. Walls he’s built up to keep everyone out have been dissolving since you were thrust into his life and now all of that comes to a head in this moment as he has to come to terms with how much he really cares for you.

There is a void inside of him that only you can fill. 

Those rough hands run up the length of your spine so tenderly, flat palms gliding over the curve of your smooth, exposed skin as he peers up into your face with clear intention. The way his eyes sparkle in the low light as he looks at you, his stare full of something more than just lust, makes your heart pound wildly in your chest. 

What is happening? You can feel the shift in the air as the passion you both have towards each other morphs into something cosmic in its intensity and suddenly you can’t breathe. It is overwhelming to be looked at like this, as if he would burn everything to the fucking ground and salt the earth just to have you, but you don’t want him to stop.

For so fucking long he has been waiting for something he never thought he would get to have. Yet the moment you touched him everything changed; you have broken him out of that state of being nothing more than a stoic statue, a man hardened by life so that he never let anything break past the barriers he erected, but suddenly that vicious cycle of wanting and never getting is finally over. And you did it all without ever even knowing it. 

Now the future actually feels like something he could look forward to, as long as you are in it.

“What?” you ask as his silent autumn gaze drifts over your body before it returns to your face.

“I hope ya know that you’re all I fuckin’ want,” he says with conviction as he leans up into you while grabbing your hips tightly so that he can flip you over onto your back, his body weight crushing you into the springs of the mattress. “That goddamn kiss did me in and I ain’t ever comin’ back. You belong ta me, ya hear? I don’t care ‘bout nothin’ else.”

“I’m all yours Simon,” you reassure with confidence. “And you are mine.”

Fiery kisses assault your mouth in desperate fashion, aggressively capturing your lips as if he hasn’t seen you in weeks as his fingers trace burning lines down your abdomen and over the curve of your hips. Pupils dilate and breaths hitch as nerve endings explode to life until you are bucking and writhing against his touch.

Your fingertips graze across the bulky muscles of his abdomen, dancing over the sparse covering of hair that leads down his V line to his pelvis and the sound of him trying to gulp down air to fill his lungs as his breath gets caught in his throat matches your own desperate sounds.

Fuck your touch sets him on fire more than it ever has and with a growl he moves down your body hastily as a new impulse takes control: to strap you to his face and suffocate. You barely have time to react as he reaches his destination at the end of the bed and lays himself flat on the mattress, his head moving in between your legs without hesitation. The hair on his chin pricks the delicate skin of your inner thighs to force you to whine as he uses his first two fingers to open you up so that he can nestle the tip of his tongue between your petals. 

His tongue drags up the length of your slit to collect that first bit of sweet juice to bloom along his taste buds before he reaches your aching clit where he teases feathery light circles around it to make you squirm before he thrust the pad up against it. There he begins to stroke with vigorous movements that are spurred on by the beautiful music he is causing you to make.  

So soft, so wet, so warm, why is this the first time he’s eaten you out? He has been denying himself of all this for what? Simon can hardly breathe, but he has never felt more alive.

Your vision blurs as you clamp your eyes shut, your head falling back while a back-arching vibration of pleasure throbs through your clit and you bite your bottom lip hard, trying to remember how to intake air through the haze caused by the intensity of his pace as with every press and movement from his tongue draws you closer to that razors edge.

Steadily that pressure continues to build as he takes the cues from your body on exactly how to tongue-fuck you into your orgasm. Sucking and licking, each stroke feverish, but effective. Nothing exists in the entire world outside of this bed: not consequences or repercussions that could come from getting caught, not reprimands or disciplinary actions that could lead to the ruination of both your careers. The ecstasy of you is worth all the goddamn bullshit you both may face for being together.

He desires you to the point of obsession and you crave him just as terribly.

Your honey coats his face, clinging to his cheeks and through the stubble on his jaw as his desire to fill your pussy with his cock takes hold, consuming him to the brink of insanity so that he is forced to rip his face out from within you. “Sorry, not done; need ta be inside ya,” he groans, needy and out of breath. “Want us to come togetha. You an me, sweetheart.”

“Yes, yes, together” you moan incoherently as you grip the sheets in your fists to steady yourself for what’s to come.

Sliding between your legs he positions himself on his knees and throws your ankles up onto his shoulders as he has to get as deep as he fucking can. He can see the glistening from between your lips and he knows you’re ready for him; there is no hesitation once he has you situated and with a strong thrust he is fully inside of you down to the very base of his cock.

Your hands rip from the covers and your fingernails dig into the muscles along his shoulder blades as you cry out while your body adjusts to his girth, each twitch as it throbs inside you pulsing against your g spot in the best way. Simon hisses as he struggles to collect himself as he bottoms out; he’s had you countless times at this point, but every single time the sensation your body produces is enough to make him see God.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs as he regains his composure enough to start slowly thrusting in and out, hips rolling over yours with a need that only grows. “Ya always have been. Fuck… I can’t believe how lucky I am ta get ta have ya ‘ere all to myself.” 

Each snap of his hips that shoves his cock deeper and deeper into you is a physical reminder that you are his, that you belong to him, and each buck of your body is a response that says claim me forever.  He wants to possess every single last centimeter of you, steal away all your sanity until there is nothing left of you except for him, and so he desperately grinds harder and harder to try and fill you full enough.

His thick abs contract and release with each thrust as he looks down on you, admiring the bright flush in your cheeks from his passionate movements. Each movement makes him strain harder and harder until his torso is coated in a thin, glistening layer of perspiration and yours is right there with him.

“Come on, baby,” he guides you through it, “I need ya to finish with me. I’m so fuckin’ close.”

Right there. It’s right fucking there; the precipice inching within reach with each stroke as your body readies itself to take the plunge. That warmth gathering at the base of your spine grows stronger causing your brows to knot together as your toes curl.

“Close,” you whimper. 

He’s almost there. “That’s it, sweetheart, just let go for me,” he praises as he reaches down between your bodies so that his fingers can stroke over your clit as he strains to keep himself from coming by digging his fingertips into your hip. 

A few more strokes as his fingers and cock work in tandem and the overwhelming sensation is enough to cause that deep ache finally find its remedy and your orgasm pops off, shooting through you like magma until your limbs go numb. Through your cries he picks up the pace and finally the warmth that had been building shoots through his body as he rips his cock out of you and buries it in the mattress underneath you as he milks himself dry.

Simon’s head hangs slack against your calves as his unsteady breath slowly returns to a tolerable rhythm before he removes your legs from his shoulders and rolls over onto the bed beside you, situating himself propped up on his pillow before pulling you closer to rest against his chest so that he can feel your pulse through his torso. You wrap your arm around his waist and hold on as you both simply breath until you have it under control.

Silently you bask in the glow of your euphoria as he holds you close, enjoying your presence in the place Simon’s never brought another person before. It’s a surreal experience to allow someone in so easily, but with you there is no other choice. He is lost in that thought until he notices how you begin to slump against him and he looks down to see you struggling to keep yourself awake. 

“I better go before I fall asleep,” you say softly as your tired eyes flutter to try and stay open as the exhaustion lulls you steadily towards slumber. “Don’t wanna get caught leaving in case anyone decides to head back early.”

His arms tethering you to his chest stay locked tightly around you. It is a terrible fucking idea and he knows it, but that stoic lieutenant cannot deny himself of what he wants, not tonight; he doesn’t want you to leave him alone again. 

“No,” he says with a hushed firmness in his tone. “Stay.”

Lifting your head up off his body, you turn your gaze up to look into his face. “You sure?” you ask skeptically as the palpitations of your heartbeat flood your ears. 

Surely he’s just taking the piss, right? You haven’t forgotten the promise you both made to be extra cautious and yet…you have to admit that you desperately want to stay.   

Simon’s opposite arm resting at his side moves across his bare torso until his hand can find and pick up the one you have lying against his chest. Silently he slips his fingers through the spaces in between your own, interlocking them together before he rests them back against his warm skin. It is a gesture that says all he needs it to say without having to utter a single word: he’s not going to let you go.

“They’ll be too fuckin’ hungover tomorrow to notice ya aren’t in your bed,” he murmurs into the dark. “You’re already tired, just stay ‘ere tonight.”

You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t stop what your heart wants and your worn out mind agrees. As you settle back down against him he brings his hand up to comb his fingers gently through your hair in a lazy, repetitious pattern until you are putty in his hands. 

What the fuck am I doin’? he thinks to himself as you lay in the crook of his arm slowly falling asleep to the sound of his calm and metered heartbeat. From the moment he finally had that first taste of you it is like everything has been turned on its head: priorities he once held as important are now shifting and thoughts he never imagined he’d have about someone suddenly seem closer than they have ever been.

He’s never allowed himself to get this close to anyone, never wanting to let another in enough to know him more than surface level, but with you it just seems so effortless. Now all he wants is to keep you around more permanently so that he can fall asleep lying next to you more nights. Everything is so clear when you are close and he doesn’t want to let it go; that both thrills and terrifies him. 

Though he cannot admit it to himself yet, not even to think of the word, he knows that he is falling hard and for the first time in a long while he is happy.

In this line of work, though, things can go south in an instant and if you don’t stay on your toes you can fall. And unfortunately things are about to come crashing down hard.

Those same pair of eyes that had been watching you both from the window of the safehouse are now glaring with rage at the lieutenant’s door as their owner’s blood boils over. The man watched you both leave the bar in a hurry, snuck out and caught you both kissing outside, followed you back to base and watched as you immediately headed for the lieutenant’s quarters, and now they are watching as you don’t seem to be leaving anytime soon and he is done.

Enough is fucking enough; he can’t take it anymore. The man wouldn’t feel so scorned by these actions if you had not previously turned him down when he had made his advances, citing that as flattered as you were that it wasn’t smart to get involved with anyone on the taskforce. “Would be inappropriate” you cited as the only reason you had to say no.  

And yet here you are sneaking around with the lieutenant like it’s nothing. 

No, if he couldn’t even be given a chance with you due to propriety, then why should your masked superior be given special treatment? He decides at that moment that he isn’t going to turn a blind eye anymore to this bullshit and immediately he turns heel to head in the direction of the officers building, hoping to catch the one person he knows can set this right. 

Captain Price sits behind the desk in his office even though it is late, obliviously absorbed in his work until he hears the repetitious knocks of someone standing at his open door followed by a familiar voice that draws his attention. A man stands there waiting for his admittance inside.

“Captain Price, sir,” the man addresses him formally. “I apologize for the late hour, I know you’re busy, but I need to speak with you.”

Price is intrigued by the urgency in his subordinate��s tone, it makes this impromptu visit seem vital that they speak. Knowing things around here it is most likely a problem that isn’t as bad as it seems and he nods for the man to come in, but he doesn’t move from his spot. “In private sir,” he insists.

“Shut the door,” Price agrees to the confidentiality and the soldier makes sure the door is secure before he comes to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Price waits until he is situated before pushing further as to what exactly has brought the soldier here. “Now, what’s this about then? Let’s get on with it.”

The soldier nods and starts talking. “I have some information that I think you will want to know about, sir. About rules that are being broken around here without your knowledge.”

“What sort of rules?” he asks, raising a bushy brow as he leans back in his chair; the soldier has his full attention now.

He has to tell; it isn’t right. No matter what the lieutenant has threatened to do to him if he says anything, he will not let this slide a minute more. “Misconduct between the lieutenant and your female sergeant and them engaging in an inappropriate relationship,” the private says, irately. “In fact, this isn’t the first time I’ve caught them either. And I know where they are right now.”

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Amagase

A Love Tailored to You

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4

Warning: This event story contains NSFW themes. Minors please do not interact.

Kagari: "Sorry, but I’m not satisfied yet."

Emma: "Mmh—!?"

Before I could fully process this ominous feeling, his lips were already on mine.

His relentless kiss felt as though it might devour me. My body instinctively tried to pull away, but he quickly pressed me against the nearby wall, leaving me no room to escape.

His tongue, invading my mouth as if demanding more, entwined deeply with mine, punctuated by playful nibbles.

(It’s… so intense…)

Emma: "W-We’re in the hallway… What if someone sees us?"

Kagari: "Don’t worry. I don’t hear any footsteps nearby."

Kagari: "Now, open your mouth, Princess. I’m not done yet."

Kagari: "Or… do you want me to force it open again?"

Emma: "At least let’s move to the room—mmph!"

Kagari: "You really like being handled roughly, don’t you?"

Ignoring my protests, he used his thumb to pry my lips apart and resumed ravishing my mouth, his tongue exploring and teasing relentlessly.

(A heat is building deep inside me... I can’t even stand anymore...)

My knees gave out, but his leg slid between mine, keeping me upright. Even then, his lips didn’t leave mine, and all I could do was clutch his clothes in desperation.

(Why is he kissing me this fervently... What’s gotten into him?)

Suddenly, his supporting leg withdrew, and I nearly collapsed to the floor before Kagari easily scooped me into his arms.

He pressed my face against his chest as if shielding me just as the sound of footsteps approached.

Shigure: "There you are, Kagari! It’s time to leave!"

Kagari: "I’m not going."

Shigure: "What?"

Kagari: "Inform the host that the princess isn’t feeling well."

Emma: "Wait, there’s still time for you to make it to the party—wah!?"

As soon as we reached my room, he laid me onto the bed without a moment’s hesitation.

When I tried to sit up, he pushed me back down by my shoulders.

Looking up, I saw his expressionless face, but his eyes glimmered with unmistakable delight.

Kagari: "You stopped me from leaving, and now you expect me to go? That’s not happening."

Emma: "That was just… my hand acting on its own when it grabbed your sleeve—"

Kagari: "You said it was because you felt lonely. That’s more than enough reason to skip a party."

Kagari: "Or was there something else you wanted to say?"

Emma: "That’s not…"

Kagari: "If you truly don’t want to say it, then I won’t force you. But if you’re holding back out of concern for me, then just tell me."

Kagari: "I’d rather you trouble me than hold back."

Kagari: "Though, what you think is ‘trouble’ would probably be something trivial to me."

Emma: "You say that now, you might regret it later."

Kagari: "It’d be great if you could actually trouble me enough to make me regret it."

(I can’t win against Kagari’s overwhelming kindness…)

(…If he’s gone this far, there’s no point in hiding it anymore.)

The feelings I’d been suppressing slowly surfaced, and I gave up trying to fight them. I spoke hesitantly, putting my swirling emotions into words.

Emma: "It’s… a selfish reason."

Emma: "You’re royalty… the strongest person I know and an irreplaceable figure for this nation."

Emma: "It’s only natural for you to receive offers from other women. Hearing the swordsmen’s conversation earlier just reminded me of that…"

Emma: "…and I guess I panicked."

The words I spilled felt like they dropped heavily into my chest.

(I’ve been feeling uneasy this whole time, afraid that I wouldn’t get another chance with Kagari …)

Emma: "It’s not that I don’t trust your words, it’s just that because I love you so much, I end up overthinking and imagining the worst."

Emma: "That’s why I held you back, even though I knew attending the party is an important duty. I’m so sorry—ah!?"

Suddenly, Kagari slid between my legs and lightly nibbled on my neck.

When I looked up, I saw a clear look of delight on his face.

Kagari: "Princess, you’re adorable."

Kagari: "You got yourself all worked up, worrying about me falling for someone else."

Kagari: "That’s unnecessary. You’re the one who taught me what love is. I’ll never love anyone else."

Kagari: "Forever—no, even after I die, I’ll never leave you."

Kagari: "My heart, my body, even my life—they all belong to you. That won’t change, no matter how cruelly you treat me."

Kagari: "Even if you were to leave my side."

Emma: "I would never treat you cruelly, and I’ll always stay by your side."

Kagari: "I know. I was just teasing."

Kagari: "But everything I said is true. You know that, don’t you?"

Emma: "…Yes."

Emma: "Hearing your words has put my heart at ease. Thank you."

Kagari: "If you ever feel uneasy again, tell me. For me, that would feel like a reward."

(Loving someone is so difficult.)

(The smallest things make my heart race, and I can’t stop overthinking everything.)

(If I hadn’t met Kagari, I wouldn’t have known these feelings.)

When I think about it that way, even my anxiety and panic seem a little precious now.

Kagari: "Still… I might’ve approached this the wrong way."

(…Huh?)

Kagari: "I mean your training. Sure, over time, you’ll get used to it, but…"

Kagari: "I didn’t consider that leaving you anxious for so long might not be the best approach."

Kagari: "That’s exactly why you overthought the swordsmen’s idle chatter."

(That’s true, but…)

Kagari: "So instead of going at your pace, why not adjust to mine? That would solve the problem faster, wouldn’t it?"

(Wait, this feels like trouble…)

Before I knew it, Kagari's eyes were brimming with a syrupy, molten heat, setting off alarms in my head.

(If I let Kagari take the lead, I won’t even have time to feel anxious or flustered.)

(I’ll give in immediately.)

(…But right now…)

After a brief hesitation, I pushed aside my embarrassment and timidly grabbed onto Kagari’s sleeve.

Emma: "…Shall we try it now?"

Kagari: "I was planning to."

Emma: "Mmh…!"

Unlike the first night we were together, he pressed his lips against mine a bit more forcefully, disheveling my clothes in the process.

His hands, now free of gloves, caressed my exposed chest, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers.

The other hand moved down, teasing the dampened place, creating wet, indecent sounds that dissolved my thoughts into a haze of embarrassment.

Kagari: “Does it feel good, Princess?”

Emma: “…Y-you can tell without me saying anything… Ah… mm.”

Kagari: “Even so, I want to hear it. I want your words to make me feel good.”

(When he says it like that…!)

The way he spoke felt like a mixture of a plea and a command, making the heat inside me swell even more.

Emma: “It… it feels good…”

The words that fell from my lips were faint and quiet, but they still reached him.

Kagari’s expression grew blissful, and he let out a satisfied sigh.

Kagari: “The same goes for me. This feeling you’ve taught me… I want more of it.”

Even the words he whispered close to my ear became a source of overwhelming pleasure for me…

Enveloped in his clumsy yet intense love, I was completely melted away.

…..

The Next Morning—

Emma: “……”

(My body won’t move the way I want it to.)

(For only the second time, that was… a bit intense.)

(I guess it’s because I kept making him hold back for so long…)

As I began recalling last night’s events, Kagari’s arm, still draped over my back, tightened and pulled me close.

Kagari: "Don’t move. Stay in my arms a little longer."

Emma: "G-good morning. I’m sorry, did I wake you?"

Kagari: "I was already awake."

He entwined his legs with mine, holding me tightly as though to eliminate any space between us.

(It’s embarrassing, but… he’s like a cat soaking up warmth. It’s kind of cute.)

Kagari: “Were you remembering last night, Princess?”

Emma: “…Just a little bit.”

Kagari: “Quite a lot, then.”

(He doesn’t let anything slide, does he?)

Kagari: “……You didn’t hate it, did you?”

Emma: “Not at all. Honestly… I was surprised at how relaxed I felt.”

(It’s almost as if everything from before was a lie.)

(Maybe… opening up about my worries to Kagari has changed something within me.)

Kagari: “I thought I might end up being rougher with you the second time than the first. But it seems there was no need to worry.”

(So that’s what he was concerned about.)

(…I see. Kagari must have had his own reasons for waiting so long.)

Kagari: “Still, I didn’t know you enjoyed being forced into things, Princess.”

Emma: “Wait! I don’t enjoy it—ah! W-what are you doing!?”

Kagari: “Touching the spots I learned were your weak points last night. There are more, too.”

Emma: "Mmh! D-don’t bite me there… Ah!"

Kagari: "Princess…"

(W-wait…)

Kagari: "Is it too much?"

His whispered words at my ear, the large hands trailing over my body, made my heart pound violently.

(It’s morning, but… and after all that last night…!)

(Maybe I broke some kind of restraint in Kagari …?)

A flicker of anxiety crossed my mind, but the loving heat in his emerald-green eyes instantly made it disappear.

(Maybe I’ll still have moments of unease about little things.)

(But… that’s why I’ll make sure to express how much I love him even more.)

Determined, I kissed Kagari in response, conveying my feelings with every fiber of my being.

Prev

▼・ᴥ・▼

[bluetoes-andstuff]

A Hidden Desire

Chapter 2 - Once Upon A Time

Summary: Once upon a time… you wish to be rescued. Your rescuer is not who you would expect, but he hears your plea and rushes to your aid.

Rating: T (Eventual NSFW)

Word Count: 4.4K

Relationship: Caesar x Fem!Human Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, implied sexual abuse

Previous Chapter

***If you are under 18 I would advise not reading, this is not an explicit chapter but this will be a story that explores nsfw themes later on. Best to just not go down the path to begin with. Be safe***

You wake up to the familiar, harsh reality of this dreadful camp after a long night of restless sleep. The tent you’ve recently started to call home is a tattered, makeshift structure, barely held together by willpower alone. In short… It was a mess. The fabric was worn and stained, letting in drafts of cold air with every slight breeze. The ground beneath you is hard and unforgiving, littered with pebbles and uneven clumps of dirt, and a thin blanket being your only comfort against the harsh chill.

Your pitiful collection of dirty, ripped clothes lie in a pile across the tent beside your other meager belongings. It didn’t amount to very much considering your camp’s habit of spontaneously uprooting, forcing you to leave behind whatever you couldn’t carry on foot.

The subtle aches of your body greet you as you slowly sit upright. You glance down towards your legs, covered in your baggy sleep pants, the gross memories from the day prior surfacing. You reach forward and wince as you slowly roll up your pant leg to expose the nasty gash bordered by a developing purple bruise. That was going to make it kind of difficult to get your chores done today.

You poke at the sore bruising. The entire area burned and you had a feeling it was going to be a difficult healing process. Your stomach spasms with a loud grumble, bringing to attention the hunger that gnaws at your stomach, and you push your face into your knees with a soft sob. Sometimes the reality of your situation just hits you all at once, and you can’t do anything more but cry, because what else can you do about it? You’re stuck here, and you’ve come to accept that now.

Your few personal items scattered about were almost like remnants of a life from a distant memory. A life you can only see through the eyes of childhood, reflected upon by a maturity brought on not only by age but circumstance. Abuse and misfortune is all you’ve known since the plague first took your parents six years ago. Even if you happen to escape this camp of abusers, you’re bound to stumble across another one eventually. It’s just how things worked now and you’ve come to accept it.

As you step outside, the camp comes to life around you. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and unwashed bodies, a smell you’ve sadly grown quite accustomed to. Everywhere, men are hollering and laughing, a general hum of conversation and jokes. You keep your head down to avoid any unwanted attention. You’ve resigned yourself to a life of torment, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try your best to avoid it at all costs.

Your first task of the day is to fetch water from the nearby stream. The bucket is heavy, and your arms tremble as you carry it back to the camp. Your injured leg adds a whole new level of difficulty, slowing the process to almost twice the time it’d usually take. No one takes care, or even notice, of your limp, or the constant grimace on your face. No one offers help, but you didn’t really expect them to.

As you pass by one of the larger tents, a man you’ve come to know as “Tommy” steps out. He frowns at you, and roves his eye up and down before scoffing.

“Don’t be so dramatic, kid. It ain’t that bad. Move faster.” His mouth actually upturns into a snarky grin and he laughs, but you know it wasn’t because it was a joke. You don’t say a word, because you know better than to argue. So instead, you nod quickly, pick up your pace and try your best to walk as normal as you can.

Back at your tent, you set the bucket down and begin cleaning the pile of boots piled up beside it. As you take a careful seat, another couple of men pass by and toss their boots into the large pile without even a simple word or glance at you. Your hands are raw and blistered, but you work diligently. The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can get out of their line of sight.

As you scrub the dirt from the boots, your mind drifts as it usually does during these mindless chores. You escape into your recurring fantasy world, surrounded by lush green meadows, and wildflowers dancing at your feet. The air is crisp, the sun warm against your skin.

In these moments, you felt a fleeting sense of peace and comfort, a stark contrast to your reality. These dreams were a sanctuary; your final cling to sanity. A place where you could escape from the harsh reality of the fear and pain dominating your life. You longed for someone to come and take you away, to offer you the love and protection you had never known. Something you were rarely able to even receive from your own parents.

The daydreams, although always slightly different, always revolve around a particular event; a savior, someone strong and kind, coming to rescue you from this nightmare. The thought brings a faint smile to your lips, a giddy excitement as your fantasies bring to life a futile hope. You know better than to cling to such dreams. In this world, hope is a dangerous thing, a fragile illusion that can shatter with the slightest touch.

Yet, despite everything, a small part of you refuses to let go. It’s the part that dreams of freedom, that believes in the possibility of a better life. You hold onto that hope, even though you know it’s fruitless. It’s what keeps you going, what gives you the strength to face another day because maybe, just maybe, if you hope hard enough, your dreams just might come true.

****

Caesar led his group through the dense forest, the sound of thumping hooves muffled by the thick underbrush. The horses moved with practiced silence, their riders alert and watchful with weapons ready. As they neared the human camp, Caesar raised his hand with a quick sign and the group quickly dismounted and scurried up the nearby trees in a practiced order, their movements fluid and silent to blend seamlessly with the shadows.

From their new vantage point, Caesar observed the camp below. It was a sight he’s seen many times before through the years when humans got brave enough to venture into his territory. The area was a stark contrast to the natural beauty surrounding it, a blot of harsh order amidst the chaos of the forest. Tents were being set up in a precise, almost militaristic fashion, each one identical and devoid of any personal touch, fabrics worn and stained from years of constant use.

A crude fence was already being erected around the perimeter, its jagged edges a clear statement on their intention of permanence. Caesar was quick to note the weak points —areas where the wood was hastily patched or still unfinished. These would be the entry points for his attack if it came to such drastic measures.

Inside, commands and varying conversation were barked out, and the occasional burst of cruel laughter echoed through the camp. Not one voice he heard was that of a kind man. These men were not just survivors, vying for peace and a desire to live; they were predators, hardened by years of conflict and driven by a relentless need to dominate. Caesar had become well accustomed to men like this through the years.

This was all he needed to know to proceed. This camp was a place where fear would soon rule, and any semblance of humanity had already begun to fade. They needed to prevent this camp from becoming a permanent blight on their forest, and if they didn’t act now, they would only become stronger.

He was just about to pass on his orders to Koba, but a sparkling “light”, so-to-speak, caught his eye.

A human woman—You. Enveloped in an innocence so rare to find amongst humanity. You moved with a grace that stood out amidst the harshness of your surroundings, your beauty a stark contrast to the brutality of the camp.

Your clothes were worn and ripped, not at all a compliment to the beauty you possessed. You deserved far better. Caesar pictured a blue dress, to compliment the vibrant color he’s sure you held in your eyes. A flowy material, soft to the touch, to tease and foreshore the softness and gentleness of the skin it hid beneath.

His chest tightened and his stomach began to burn and roll as he watched you. It had been a long time since he had seen a human woman, especially one as alluring as you. Your hair, though unkempt, shone in the dim light, and your eyes, even from a distance, held a depth of emotion that drew him in. A desire to speak to you, touch you, and hold the entirety of your attention.

You carried a heavy bucket, your steps unsteady, revealing a soft, yet pronounced limp, causing a strain in every movement. He noticed the dark bruising on your arms and the way you cower and flinch when a man shouts and laughs at you.

It angered him in a way he wasn’t familiar with. It was fervid and dangerous, as he didn’t know if this was an instinctive emotion he’d be able to contain. He knew in his mind that any rash move could endanger his group, but that burn drew a curtain between his mind and heart. They needed to act fast before his anger called on him to do something stupid.

Caesar turned towards Rocket and Koba perched on branches beside him. Rocket was still focused on the camp and the guards spread around the perimeter, mouth parted open as it usually was when in deep thought. Koba, however, wore a scowl as he looked down upon the camp.

“We need to be careful,” Rocket eventually signs, his hoots of caution low and urgent. “There are many of them.”

Koba grunted in agreement, but his eyes were hard. “Humans are dangerous,” he signs, his expression filled with disdain. “We need to act before they do.”

Caesar’s mind raced as he considered their options, the thoughts of you begging to pull his attention away. “We need a plan,” he grunts as he signs. “We can’t just charge in. We need to create a distraction, something to draw the men away from her.”

Without any thought to mask his true intention, Caesar reveals his thoughts as they are and his chest immediately convulses with a weird nervousness as he stares at his two friends, waiting for their reactions.

Both Koba and Rocket give him a weird look, before looking down at where Caesar pointed. Right there, on the outskirts of the camp is a young human woman, and both apes look back to Caesar who now seems to act as a young chimp caught in the midst of a bout of mischief: guilty.

“What do you mean, “her”?” Koba signs emphatically “what about her?”

“She cannot get hurt,” Caesar quickly defends. “She is innocent.”

“How?” Koba retaliates, “she is human.”

“No, she is victim of humans… just like us.” Caesar doesn’t plead; he never pleads. But at this moment, he needs the others to understand. You cannot get hurt… he can’t allow it. And they need to understand.

Rocket nodded thoughtfully, cutting Koba off before he pursued the argument. He trusts in whatever Caesar decides. “We could use the horses,” he suggested. “Send them running through the camp. It will cause chaos and give us a chance to get her out before we attack.”

Koba’s scowl deepened. “Why risk our lives for a human?” he asked, hissing with contempt. “They are not worth it.”

Caesar looked back at you as you scrubbed away at men’s boots, his resolve hardening. “No one deserves to suffer like this. We will help her.”

He wants to help, he tells himself. It is for you, not for him. He expects nothing to come of this. He will not touch you, he will not pursue what he’s been wanting. He will not be selfish.

Rocket grinned, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “And while they’re distracted, we can take out the guards,” he added. “Quick and silent.”

Caesar nodded, ignoring Koba’s glare. “Good,” he said. “Rocket, you handle the distraction. Koba, you and I will take out the guards and get her. We move on my signal.”

The group nodded in agreement, though Koba’s reluctance was palpable. They moved into position, each ape taking their place in the plan. Caesar’s heart pounded with a mix of anger, determination, and maybe just a little bit of misplaced excitement. You deserved the world, he knew it, and he would make sure you got it.

Caesar watched as Rocket and a few others moved to enact the distraction, leaving him and Koba in position. His eyes returned to you and never left, your every movement drawing him in. He could feel Koba’s gaze boring into the side of his head, but he ignored him in favor of watching you. He would savor every moment he had to gaze upon you, because who knew how much longer he’d be able to. You were cleaning those boots with a quiet determination even despite the pain he could see etched on your face. But he could also see a glimmer of hope that refused to be extinguished.

Suddenly, one of the men approached you from behind. Caesar’s muscles tensed, nostrils flaring with a possessive huff. The look of a predatory male was universal across the animal kingdom and humans were not an exception. The man grabbed your arm roughly, yanking you to your feet, causing you to buckle on your bad leg with a soft cry. He yanked you again even as you tried to pull away, but his grip continued to tighten, his voice a low, menacing growl.

“C’mon sweetheart, you remember what happens when you put up a fight,” the man teases, his eyes raking over her with a lecherous gaze. The panic that overtook you was palpable, and you struggled harder in the man’s grip.

If Caesar was not so distracted by the occurrence of events, he would have noticed Koba’s accompanying growls of dissent and anger.

But his own heart was pounding in his chest, that surge of protective rage flooding through the very veins in his body. His muscles cramped with the restraint to act. Because if he didn’t act he knew something terrible would happen to you, something he didn’t dare want to think of. His vision narrowed, focusing solely on the man as he began to drag you, a poor little girl, across the camp while your body wracked with pleas and sobs. The world around Caesar seemed to fade, leaving only the burning need in his gut to protect what his heart had already apparently claimed as his own.

His nostrils flare with the heavy breaths and pants that leave his being, lips turning up to bare his teeth.

“Koba, stay,” Caesar whispered aloud, his voice tight with his barely controlled fury. He didn’t bother waiting for a response. With a roar that echoed through the forest floor below, he leaped from the trees, propelling him into the camp. He lands on the ground, immediately ducking into a roll to keep momentum, barreling forward on all fours towards the man his eyes are set on.

The man turned towards him, shock and panic flashing across his face at the sight of the approaching ape. His grip on you releases and you stumble back in fear. You gasp in shock as Caesar’s body collides with the man’s, the force of the impact sending him flying several feet away and left sprawled out on the ground.

“Do not touch!” Caesar barked, his canines on full display for the rest of the camp to see. An act of disobedience was an open invitation to be mauled by the towering ape king and they knew well what that meant.

You sat on the ground, cowering, knees tucked close to your chest as you tried to fit yourself beneath a nearby stand.

Koba had stayed back to watch the entire scene unfold, his eyes wide with shock, his usual disdain for humans momentarily forgotten. He had never seen Caesar act so impulsively, so stupidly. Without care for his own safety

The man Caesar had thrown scrambles to his feet, a newfound bravery at the sight of his comrades surrounding them, but Caesar was on him in an instant, vaulting forward in all fours once more. He grips the front of the man’s shirt, lifting him clear off the ground. “You will never… touch her… again,” Caesar spits, voice low and dangerous. His muzzle inches closer, his teeth bared to where the tips of his canines nearly brush against the man’s turned cheek.

The man whimpered, his bravado shattered. “Please, don’t kill me,” he begged, his voice trembling.

The other men surrounding him begin their onslaught, and he throws the one in his hands across the camp, sending him flying through one of their tents. He turns and positions himself between you and the others. He could see you trembling behind him, eyes boring holes into the side of his skull.

He would prove himself to you. He will prove he will protect you; that he can. You will see that he can provide you what you need.

The first man lunged at Caesar with a club, swinging it with all his might. Caesar raises a hand and halts it in the air, caught in his fist, and he tugs the man forward to hiss in his face. He yanks the club from his hands then swings his other arm around into the man’s gut, sending him skidding across the rocky ground.

Another came at him with a long knife, slashing wildly. Caesar grabbed his wrist, twisting it until the knife clattered to the ground and the fragile bone snapped in his grip.

He had no care to be gentle.

***

Koba watched the chaos unfold, his eyes narrowing. He knew Caesar was strong, but even he couldn’t take on so many men alone. It baffled him why Caesar stood to protect a mere human woman who hid so cowardly behind him. However mad Caesars actions appeared, Koba would stand by his king no matter the circumstance, so he shook off the distracted thoughts and flung himself into a hurried descent.

He rushed towards where Rocket and the others were waiting for Caesar's signal. He hoots to get their attention as he approaches. “Rocket!” he signs urgently. “We need to go now! Caesar’s in trouble!”

Rocket’s eyes widen and he hoots in alarm. “What happened?” he asked, him and the others already moving towards the horses.

“Humans attacked him,” Koba signs, approaching his own horse. “He’s trying to protect the human woman, but there are too many of them.”

Rocket didn’t need to hear more. He mounted his horse in one swift motion, the others following suit. He howled, a command the others knew well and they spurred their horses into a gallop, racing towards the camp.

The sound of hooves thundered through the camp as Rocket and the others burst through the unfinished barricade. The men surrounding Caesar turned, immediate panic descending upon the group at the sight of the approaching apes. Rocket leaped from his horse, landing in the midst of the fray with a fierce battle cry.

Caesar, bloodied but unbowed, felt a surge of relief as his friends joined the fight. Rocket tackled one of the men without hesitation. The other apes followed suit. And Koba, despite his earlier reluctance, fought with a savage intensity, his anger and resentment for the humans fueling his attack. He knocked a man unconscious with a single blow, grinning down at the bloody face left in his wake.

“Are you alright?” Koba signed to Caesar on his approach, his gentle hoots gruff but concerned.

Caesar nodded, then turned towards you who he still stood in defense of. “We need to get her out of here.” You remained huddled behind him, completely at loss to the signed conversation as you stared at the two apes with a wild, frightened look in your eyes.

The fight ends quickly. The few men remaining had fled not too long after the others arrived.

Watching the last of the men flee, Caesar turned to you behind him, his scowl immediately softening as he crouched low to the ground. “Safe,” he grumbles softly, offering one of his large hands to help you up. You hesitate for a long moment, your eyes wide and teary.

“Safe,” Caesar reiterates, pulling his other hand to his chest in a gesture to himself. Your eyes darted around towards the other apes gathered around him, lip beginning to tremble pitifully before reaching out a trembling hand. Caesar reaches the rest of the way to gently grasp onto your dainty fingers, pulling you forward gently to help you rise to your feet.

The moment your hands touched, he felt a spark igniting a dormant flame in his chest; that same warmth he felt earlier. Your hand was so small, so delicate, the skin so impossibly soft against his rough, calloused palm. More so than ever imagined it could be. He wondered how it would feel if you would thread your fingers through the fur of his chest and up his shoulders, down his arms… it makes his body spasm with a shiver.

He could feel your innocence, your vulnerability, in that simple contact. It was as if your very essence was communicating with him, whispering of the pain you had endured and the hope you still clung to.

Your small fingers trembled in his, as you gripped tightly to his fingers. Your fear and hesitance shivering through your body… yet your fierce grip clinging to his hand ignited something fierce within him, a desire so strong it took his breath away. He didn’t want to let go. Holding your hand felt like holding a fragile piece of light in a world shrouded in darkness. Letting go felt unthinkable, as if releasing your hand would mean losing a part of himself.

He wanted nothing more than to draw you closer to him and embrace you, blocking out the fears and uncertainty that swarm your mind as he nuzzled his face into the soft skin of your neck and breathed you in. But he doesn’t— he won’t… instead his eyes linger on your bruised and weary form, and the desperation in your eyes.

He didn’t want to let go… but he knew bringing you back to his camp could be dangerous, not just for you, but for his people. And he knew if he did bring you back, who knows how long he could cling to the control he had over his desires.

So he gently released your hand, your own hovering in the air, frozen in the moment he released her.

“Go,” Caesar grumbles, his voice heavy with reluctance, nostrils flaring with the internal frustration and restraint. “Find a…safe place… away… from here.” He gestured towards the forest.

You stared at him, confusion and conflict bleeding through her gaze. And then you spoke to him for the first time, a meer whisper of desperation, voice soft and sweet. “But… I have nowhere to go. I-I-I… Please, don’t leave me here.”

Caesar’s heart constricted at your words, heart beating rapidly, like he was in fear for his life. He wanted nothing more than to protect you, to keep you safe, to hold you close and never let go. But he also knew his own limitations, his own fears. Bringing you back might mean losing the little bit of control he’s been clinging to. It wouldn’t take long before his instinct and desire won over and he became possessive and controlling. It was a risk he couldn’t take. He couldn’t put you into a situation like that, you deserved better.

His lips crinkle in apology, eyes softening towards you. Then he tips his chin in a gesture for you to go and he turns towards his own horse to leave. But before he could take more than a few steps, you throw yourself forward, body colliding into his as you grab his arm, your small fingers digging into his fur, brushing against the rough skin beneath. “Please,” you begged, your voice breaking. “I have no one else. I-I…Please.”

Caesar stopped. He turned his head and saw the desperation in your eyes. The way you trusted him, needed him. The way you wanted him, even if you didn’t realize it yourself yet.

Rocket and the others watch in silence, all in awe at the sight of their leader buckling beneath the plea of a human.

Caesar’s chest heaves with his heavy breaths, his resolve finally cracking. He couldn’t just send you off, not when you had nowhere else to turn. And if you were asking to come with him… then it wouldn’t be his fault what might happen. It’s not him, deciding your fate for his own selfish reasons.

“Alright,” he said softly, his voice filled with a gentle determination. “Come.” He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling it from your grip to ease you forward towards his horse. He can feel the warmth radiating off you, the tantalizing brush of his fur against your clothed skin. One of the other apes holds the horse in place as you two approach and before you can so much as try to climb up on your own, Caesar grips you around the waist and lifts you effortlessly onto the stallion’s back. You squeak softly at the sudden movement, and you grapple forward once seated to grasp onto the horse's mane. Caesar can’t help but smile at your innocent anxiety and mounts behind you to ensure you wouldn’t fall.

The other apes around them mount their own steeds and Caesar grabs the reins with one hand, the other wrapping around your waist to pull you back into his body, slotting you so you sit comfortably between his legs. He spurs the horse forward with a soft hoot to direct the others to do so as well, and you grip tightly to his forearm as you move forward, pressing your back further into his chest to steady herself.

Caesar smiles and tightens his hold as they pick up pace to a gentle trot. He never would have pictured things turning out this way… a human woman pressed so closely to him, holding her, smelling her, feeling her against him. He already knew he was going to have a difficult time controlling himself.

In the midst of his thoughts, you lean back slightly, your body relaxing into his as you get lost in your own. For the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. This ape, whoever he is, is safe… you are finally safe.

Taglist: @night-shadowblood-writes2 @edynmeyer1 @chermg @httpvomitello @hrlzy

**Thank you all very much for reading. I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you want to be added to the tag list let me know. Next chapter is when it starts to get pretty good, so stay tuned XD**

[marlynnofmany]

Handy Tools

For some people, an afternoon spent blasting across a desert on a hoverbike with the passenger behind them wrapping tentacles around their waist would be a charming date. For me, it was a work day, and our delivery was about to be late.

I yelled over the wind, “Am I going too fast for you?”

Mur’s voice was muffled against my shirt. “I’m just glad I don’t have to steer at these speeds. Keep going.”

I went faster. Now that I’d been officially trained on the hoverbike, I was going to enjoy every opportunity to use it. Especially since it turned out that most of my coworkers didn’t actually like seeing the scenery flash past at breakneck speeds, with the wind in their hair (or lack thereof).

Their loss. I caught some air going over a low sand dune, and allowed myself a whoop of joy. Mur didn’t hold on any tighter, but that was because he had all his other tentacles suctioned onto the bike. Nobody stays in their seat like a Strongarm who’s properly motivated. He reminded me of cats I’d known who spent trips to the vet with their claws sunk into whichever soft surface was in reach. All that was missing was the yowling.

A gust of wind buffeted us sideways, but the bike’s auto-balance function kept it upright. With a thought for how much I would have liked that kind of technology in my childhood bicycle, I steered us back on track toward the distant buildings on the edge of the desert. The plan had been for our client to come meet us at the spaceport, but something had come up on their end, and they still needed the package in a hurry. Luckily for all involved, it fit in the storage compartment of our courier ship’s speedy little hovercycle. And I was happy to deliver it at high speed to a building that the ship couldn’t land near.

Eventually we’d be weaving through city streets and I’ve have to slow down. All the more reason to make up time with the high speeds now.

But of course it couldn’t be that easy. As I crested another rise, a herd of small things on the ground swarmed toward us out of nowhere.

I swerved hard, but no luck; there were far too many to avoid. With the wind behind them, they flowed under the hoverbike and onto its lower parts, where a bunch of the round little whatevers stuck fast.

The bike coasted to a stop, despite my efforts to urge it faster. The rest of the things ghosted merrily away, looking more like inanimate objects blown by the wind than like living creatures. Dozens of them were stuck to the bike.

Mur swore loudly in his own language, a series of rippling pops that sounded like someone going to town on a bunch of birthday balloons. Which seemed pretty appropriate, actually.

“What are these?” I asked, turning off the engine. They looked like little sand-beige balloons with leaves at the bottom. Were they plants?

They were.

“A muddy problem is what they are,” Mur said, loosening his tentacles and opening the storage compartment. “Seed pods famous around here for gumming up electronics by getting stuck where they shouldn’t. You can’t just pull ‘em off; you have to pop them.”

I got to my feet, careful to keep my legs away from the things. “Are they dangerous to touch?”

Mur climbed halfway into the storage compartment, digging with his tentacles around the package. “No. Just hard to puncture. Where is the toolkit?”

I had a sudden memory of our ship’s mechanic saying something about borrowing it while I was talking to the captain about the delivery. Uh oh. “I think we left before Mimi put it back.”

With an angry tentacle slap against the bike, Mur dug faster. “There’s got to be something pointy in here. Maybe in the medkit?”

While he pulled that out and sifted through the bandages, I got a closer look at the seed pods. They reminded me of pufferfish: a little spiky, and rubbery when I poked one. Oddly enough, it didn’t stick to my finger, just the bike. Seeds rattled inside.

Further pop-swearing told me there wasn’t anything particularly sharp in the tiny medkit. Mur shut it with a snap and looked around at the desert. “See any sticks?”

I did not. “There’s probably something at the town, but that’s a bit of a walk. Are you sure we can’t just rip them open? Are they toxic to bite?”

“Definitely don’t bite them,” Mur said. “I’ve heard stories of what those seeds can do to a digestive system.”

“By hand, though?” I tried to pinch one, but it was like trying to tear open an over-inflated kickball. Thin material, just without enough give to dig my fingers in. A pushpin would have done it. I kept trying anyway. “I see what you mean.”

Mur started tugging at various parts of the hoverbike. “And of course we can’t take off a sharp metal bit without tools either. And neither of us have claws. What around here is pointy?”

“Well, I almost have claws,” I said, looking at my fingernails. “Maybe I could bite one into a point. Or actually—” The nail on my middle finger was the longest. I dug a thumbnail into the corner and ripped the end off, then handed the tiny crescent to Mur. “Is this sharp enough?”

“What’s this?” He took it in his tentacle, surprised.

“Fingernail,” I said, waggling my fingers. “Mine are soft enough to tear off pretty easily. It’ll grow back.”

Mur blinked in surprise but didn’t comment. He just grasped it firmly with his most dexterous tentacle, and popped a seedpod with it.

“Hooray!” I said as seeds rained down and the pod deflated. To my surprise, it promptly detached from the bike as well.

“We might just be on time after all.” Mur started popping with a vengeance, swarming over the bike to get everything within reach.

I sacrificed another fingernail — ring finger this time — and joined in. Between my long arms and his maneuverability, we soon had all of the troublesome things collapsing onto the sandy ground.

I wondered briefly about the biology at work; maybe the outer surface of the pods would decompose into nutrients for the seeds. But then Mur was climbing back onto the seat, and we had other things to worry about.

“I’m going to make sure that toolkit goes back where it belongs the moment we get back,” Mur said. He opened the storage compartment and dropped the fingernail inside. “Keeping these, though. Gimme the other one.”

I handed it over with a smile and got back into place while he shut the compartment. The bike started as if there had never been anything wrong. I was a bit curious about that too, but figured it was something for Mimi to figure out when he gave the bike a checkup later.

After we delivered our package, that is. I kicked it into high gear, and with Mur holding on for dear life, I blasted off across the desert once again. The wind in my hair felt great.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[ammyamarant]

Kamen Rider Gavv ep 1 thoughts

Just going to watch one episode right now because I need to finish Kabuto and I need to Know what Kabuto has up its sleeve. But, the tl;dr of Gavv: Cute show, I can see how traumatized this poor kid will get by the end

Gavv ep 1

okay so I’m already reminded of W. Wonder if there will be a mentor figure that dies like Soukichi does in the first fucking five minutes of W

oh neat doors. I’ve seen Labyrinth too.

jfc how old is this kid he looks baby

yeet out of a plane and the tinkly “oh this is the world mom is from” music lmao

lbr considering the environment you just escaped from and the way you were happy to be freefalling because you were where your mom is from, I think needing some food is understating it.

"what do you have? Do you eat it?" has the same energy as my "what is gender? do you eat it?" joke

WHAT IS YOUR BODY MADE OF

Karakida I want your jacket. Give

Ah you have no communication skills. Understood

"This isn't a monster case" "So what is it?" "Woman fucking killed her own husband and shh keep your fucking voice down"

"today's harvest" and it looks like bloody organs. Hey I've seen 12 Hour Shift too.

oh you've never been allowed actual food have you

oh goddamn it I can hear Apollo aiming the dodgeball already

my dude. you got a tummy ache then gave birth to something. human women would kill for that to be their normal gestation cycle.

mm, cgi is kinda……………………

"hey now I've been fed actual food and have real energy I can make minions" yeah I mean that makes sense. People get all kinds of bodily processes back once they've been properly fed. Usually takes a while for their body to recover but hey you ain't human so I get it

this kid is so sweet and kind giving obvious main character (yeah I know it's shouma) a place to stay and some sweets to eat.

oh right the street drugs WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT HENTAI ASS THING

oh it's just a mouth. Wicked teeth.

Shouma is such a sweetheart

Also ye, I can see why Shouma is enchanted by sweets if his mom never let him have any of the family drugs.

excuse me I need to figure out a way to get into this world and beat down this addict before he hurts this kid

Shouma I would like a full rundown of what you can do because was that super speed and running perpendicular on a vertical surface? My dude? Answers?

Mm, sick monster design

Yeah, the monster and the kid both being like "hey what the fuck" to Shouma is fucking hilarious.

oh fucking ow

your mom turned into a bloody organ thing. Are we sure this isn't just a horror movie?

I feel like these minion things showing up saying "eat gummy!" shouldn't feel as threatening as they do.

OH GOD THE CRYING EYES. I'M HOWLING

"oh with the other one" lmao

I wonder what this show is like on edibles because the bright colours are fun and I had a blast watching Ex-Aid baked. Tho I'd consider that a little too on the nose considering the street drug metaphor of those dark candies

little dudes go somewhere safe that isn't under the fighting feet!

oh interesting so if he gets a lot of battle damage he can repair it by using another minion. Very neat. Wish more "battle damage" was repairable that easily. Looking at you, 3rd Birthday.

oh calling both of them monsters and Shouma just taking it is heartbreaking.

I'm definitely feeling the difference between Takaiwa and whoever the suit actor for Gavv is, but it's more "huh, that's a different way of doing the stunts" than anything bad. I do miss Takaiwa but that's mostly because he's a fucking legend. This guy's doing great, tho.

did… they repurpose the build driver for this?

takaiwa usually stood upright, even for meek characters like Ryotaro, while it seems like this guy's default stance is hunched over. iiiiiiiiiiiiiinteresting. Says a lot about Shouma in this form

okay I was about to say this Rider Kick is lame, but nah, it's pretty good.

Shouma you are sunshine and joy wrapped in ptsd. That's not even a joke I know you're fucking riddled with ptsd from just your memories of your mother alone

Shouma you are not Eiji stop being a hobo

Cute show.

[saphushia]

I would loveeeee to hear your weird creeper hcs 🙏🙏🙏

YES YAY THANK YOU 🌟

okay so i guess first off. i hc silverfish to be larval creepers. that, in addition with a creeper's diet (and silverfish's, of course) consisting of ore, is why creepers explode players. see, when creepers explode, their eggs are embedded in the surrounding terrain. as players often carry ores on them, a creeper managing to explode a player and drop their inventory means the silverfish that hatch are almost guaranteed a very generous meal upon first hatching. after that, silverfish burrow underground to continue eating, and to stay safe until they're ready to metamorphise into creepers

(bonus doc lore at the end of the post 🐐)

creepers emerge from the ground at night because that's when it's generally safest for them to finish the final stages of development and gather their bearings. creepers themselves cannot dig or burrow, so they stay on the surface (or in a cave, if that's where they emerged) for the remainder of their life.

the combustion is the result of a chemical reaction- they store reactive materials in chambers in their body, and when they're released and come into contact with each other it causes an explosion as a side note, creepers can eat meat, but are more scavengers than hunters, and only eat it when it's readily available with little to no risk.

moving onto doc (because i'll never pass up a chance for blorbo talk), his anatomy is somewhat different from a standard creeper due to all the modifications to give him a more 'human' bodyplan and appearance.

his forelegs were originally removed and reattached to act as arms, however his spine and leg joints weren't built for a bipedal upright stance, so it gives him back, knee, and ankle pain to walk like that too much. his retractable robotic forelegs were a later addition he made for himself as a mobility aid to help relieve that pain. because of that he has a slightly more 'taur' like body structure, vs standard creepers whose necks are centered between all 4 legs. originally both his arms had 3 digits each (as they were made by modifying his legs), but when he made his right arm prosthetic he gave it a 5-fingered, more human-like shape for easier manipulation of stuff designed for human use

his combustion chambers were also removed long ago, so he can no longer explode himself (which he doesn't really mind. not big on the whole 'one panic away from exploding himself to death' thing)

he can digest a larger range of food than standard creepers can, but he still needs to eat ores to keep a nutritionally balanced diet. mostly he eats non-mineral foods just because he likes the taste, rather than actual nutritional value. it's recommended not to eat anything he makes for himself, because even if it looks like smth a human can eat, it's probably seasoned with redstone or iron shavings (he is good at making human-safe food, but he has no reason to make his own meals human safe. only eat doc's cooking if you know it's meant to be shared)

his scales are also softer, fading into something more similar to rough skin on a lot of his body. his 'hair' is thicker than a human's but thinner than a creeper's scales- it has almost a quill like texture. he can still 'hiss' by rattling them, but it's a somewhat different pitch than your standard creeper.

he also has a lot of mods on his neck to allow him to speak, and his robotic eye sees far better than a creeper's (slightly above human average, vs creeper eyes which are far below a human average). also a lot of questional brain/head mods to give him a more human appearing face and human-level cognition. his horns however are purely aesthetic.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Tying The Knot

[Get your head out of the gutter, this one is actually a wholesome one. RainDrop.] Below the cut.

The day he met Dew, the ghoul had been a stiff breeze away from crumbling away, shaking like a leaf as he tried to remain on his feet.

He'd learn much later the reason; That he'd fought tooth and nail to keep his packmate from tearing him apart in a rage, and that the shiver, that terrible, persistent tremble of his body, was it trying to stay upright.

At the time, Rain had not seen the hand splayed across his back -a sister of sin steadying him-, had not seen the way Terzo had eyed him from across the room, the last remnant of his old pack, barely holding onto life, but alive.

More than anything, the thing Rain noticed about Dew was that he was alive.

Were it not for the raspy hiss of his breathing, it would have been easy to liken him to a corpse.

It had bothered him for so long, the idea that Dew had been forced out of bed to witness not only his summoning, but that of the others, who poured out of the pit, half feral and lost, snapping at anyone who got close, but he hadn't been.

This had been an indulgence.

Dew wanted to see them.

And when coal black eyes gazed upon them all; Rain could feel him staring through them, through him.

It was then that Rain knew Dew was a creature born of spite, of persistence...

He remembers his first approach.

Unfazed by the chatter of teeth or swipe of claws.

With his fingers dipped in a mixture of ash and blood, he aided in anointing them all, and, now, when he sees Dew in his robes during one of Copia's sermons, it's all he can think of.

Dew stands now at the head of the chapel, back to him, long white hair tied back into a careful braid, the one Rain remembers practicing late at night.

It's done in a style from the pit, the kind you have to learn from an elder, impossible to find on youtube, even if similar patterns exist.

His hands twitch, wanting to drag through the strands and tug it loose, to undo all his hard work in a single pull, because if he knew how seeing him like this would make him feel, he'd never had tied those knots in the first place.

Each cross is a promise, woven to remind the wearer they are loved.

Rain watches the little ribbon he tied to secure the braid in place peek out; A bright, joyous red that contrasts heavily against Dew's pale hair.

Bolder than he thought it would be, and now Rain can feel eyes on him from among the pews.

His packmates know they didn't tie that ribbon, and all of them know such an intricate braid could not be done by Dew's hands alone, no matter how skilled he may be with his fingers.

Rain swallows, mouth suddenly dry.

It's...

It's a little too obvious what he's saying with all of this.

He's embarrassed, yes, but more than that...

He's nervous that Dew won't understand the meaning of this gesture.

Dew may be a ghoul like the rest of them, but, much like Swiss -who was born and raised on the surface- he has no memories of the pit.

The soul inhabiting his vessel is a mix.

An even blend of demon and man, but his consciousness solely belongs to the entity that lived topside.

He doesn't understand their culture.

Let alone the niche courting habits of an oceanic subspecies of water ghoul like Rain's.

At best, Dew thinks it's just a cool hairstyle.

At worst, he thinks it's lame or weird, or-

"Rain." a shockingly gentle voice calls to him, and when he looks up...

Dew looks down at him, standing above his seated form, his expression softer than he's seen it in a long time.

"You look terribly sad for a man who's just proposed."

Rain stutters, covering his face with his hands, looking as if he's about to burst.

"...You knew?"

"I guessed based on how much you were sweating while tying my hair back." he replies teasingly, "And Mist told me, ages ago. Not about you doing this, but about the practice in general."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

Rain tucks his head between his knees.

"Are you okay??"

"...Gimme a year to recover before you tell me yes or no, I don't think my heart can take it."

Dew grins.

"If I say 'yes' will you die on the spot, or-"

"Can y'all be mushy somewhere else, it's putting me off Papa's sermon about pre-martial sex." Cirrus groans, "Congrats, but also, fuck off!"

"Boo! Boo, Cirrus! Ruining our moment..." Dew sticks his tongue out

"...The sermon was about sex? Was he for or against it??" Aeon frets, "I wasn't listening!"

Everyone turns to the other ghoul, frowning.

"W-What??"

"Do we look like Christians to you-"

[volkoss]

Fic: Dissonance (Ch. 1 - Upbringing)

A series of non-linear vignettes exploring the life of Meredith Stannard. Written for @14dayscirclemages.

CHAPTER 1: UPBRINGING | MEREDITH & AMELIA | WORDS: 700 | RATED: T Notes: takes place in the same continuity as the rest of Symbiotes, but prior knowledge is not required for this chapter. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 (AO3 LINK)

Sometimes, Meredith dreams about her childhood. Dreams about her sister, before she had become the Thing.

It had been a simpler time, before everything had gone to shit. A time before the Kirkwall docks where her father once worked had become shrouded in the shadow of the Gallows, even though logic dictated the ancient Tevinter fortress had stood for centuries, and would stand for ages more.

No. In the old dreams, Meredith can only remember the sun. The perfect summer days. The deceptively still surface of the Waking Sea reflecting the cloudless blue skies above their heads. Hers, and Amelia’s. Bare legs dangling into the water to keep cool in the heat. Amelia, jerking into Meredith’s side swearing an eel had slithered past. Meredith, clutching at her big sister’s side to keep her steady. 

It was only seaweed. Only ever seaweed.

On a good day, they’d have coppers enough to split a whole fish between them for lunch, a big juicy fat one at that. They’d cook it on a stick over one of the communal firepits, Amelia glancing around nervously worried the neighbourhood boys would pick a fight with them again and Meredith focused on her task, confident in the knowledge they wouldn’t.

Meredith had known, once upon a time, that their father had been disappointed their mother had borne him a second daughter. But it didn’t matter so much these days, not now she’d proven to him she could do everything a boy could, could do it even better.

She still remembers the first time she’d come home bloodied and bedraggled after breaking a bully’s nose for making fun of her sister. She’d expected to get a hiding but Dad had only laughed, ruffling her matted hair.

Maker’s breath, he’d said, I’ve created a monster. And yet upon noticing her swollen thumb, he’d still taught her how to throw a proper punch. For next time. It had been in that moment Meredith had been convinced of her purpose in life, her reason for being: she had been brought into this world to protect her sister, and she would never ever give up, so long as she lived.

And it had all been going so swimmingly, until Amelia’s magic had manifested. Until the already shy and reticent Amelia withdrew so deep inside her shell she had turned herself inside out instead—

—her dreaming mind refuses to dwell on what had happened after, tonight. Tonight, it still has hope. A false belief there is a chance. Something, anything, that she can do to change what actually happened.

She is chasing her sister through the winding streets of Lowtown, bare feet kicking up clouds of dust as she runs. Amelia is out of sight, but only just. Like Meredith will turn the corner and see her standing there, close enough to jab a finger in the dimple of her smile.

Meredith is not sure any of this ever actually happened.

However, what she is certain of is this: that Amelia has always been just out of her grasp. That the templars always reached her sister first. That every day, she wakes up into a nightmare.

She is sticking to her nightclothes, her sheets, perspiration rolling off her in waves. It’s summer in Kirkwall, but she is no longer eight years old, but forty-two. It’s early still, sun yet to break the sky, but she can make out the shape of the objects in her bedchamber in the red glow of her greatsword, never too far from hand.

Do you still believe you can change things? Orsino had once asked her many moons ago, and back then, she had demurred. Had told him she didn’t know. But now, as she pushes herself upright and hums the red lyrium’s haunting song under her breath, she feels it in her bones.

Certainty.

As good a name for a sword as any.

The Thing watches her out of the corner of her eye. You promised, it says. Once upon a time, Meredith had been adamant that the Thing was not her sister. These days, she sees little utility in such arbitrarily drawn lines. 

Yes, she whispers into the empty room. I did.

[mousy-nona]

I feel like a fic potentially focusing on Lucifer’s depression would be really interesting! That is, like.. Alastor can’t let the hotel be seen with a king (who’s a sniffling whiny bitch). Its sadly more beneficial to have him revered in this particular instance, so he’s determined to “fix” it? Idk how in character that prompt is, but I figured sending it to you wouldn’t hurt!!

TW: heavy stuff halfway through -- depression; angst.

There were some days Lucifer couldn’t get out of bed.

There was nothing particularly wrong with him. Which made it all the more embarrassing, which made it harder to explain, which made it easier to stay in bed and hide from the world, and so on and so forth…

Get up, the Stern Lucifer in his head said, sternly. You have the Assembly today. What’ll the Sins think if you don’t show up?

“Don’ wanna,” he groaned and tossed the covers over his head. The darkness was soothing. He let his eyes slip closed. Just one more minute…

“People are beginning to talk.” 

He bolted upright, his eyes growing so wide he was worried they might actually pop out of his skull.

“Alastor? What the Hell are you doing on my bed?”

Because he was. On the far edge. Sitting with his legs crossed. As casually as if this was the kind of thing regular people did every day: break into the King of Hell’s room and sit on his bed.

(Not that Lucifer hadn’t thought about the demon in his bed before, but usually it was in the damn thing and with a lot less clothes and what the actual Hell was he thinking right now?) 

“People are beginning to talk.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“Yes. Because I don’t think you heard me the first time.” Alastor eyed him, clearly unimpressed by what he saw. It had the odd effect of making Lucifer want to punch the demon in the nose and pull the covers over his head at the same time. “If you don’t get up in the next five minutes, you’ll be late for the meeting.”

“Oh, who cares?” Lucifer sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. “It doesn’t matter whether I’m there or not. They’ll squabble and Ozzie will flirt and Beezlebub will try to get everyone drunk and Mammon will drive everyone up the wall with new pyramid schemes.” 

Alastor tilted his head almost a full 45 degrees. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Was the man half-owl? A mean gleam shimmered just below the surface, turning his eyes into bloody rubies. “If you hate ruling so much, why not just give up the crown? Let someone better take it.”

“Oh?” Lucifer snorted. “Sounds like you have someone in mind.” 

Alastor sighed, as melodramatic as a soap opera. “Alas, I would – but I doubt the six Sins would listen to lil’ ol’ me.” His accent slipped from transatlantic to all New Orleans, and Lucifer found himself hanging on every word. Southern suited the demon, was just as much Alastor as the color red and his old fashioned suits.

He shook himself out of it, snorting. “Please. Try the humble pie act somewhere else. You’ve never thought of yourself as little even once in your life.” 

“Caught in the act!” The demon sang.

There was a long moment of silence as Lucifer hugged his blankets to himself and Alastor hummed some blues under his breath.

“How do you do it?” Lucifer said suddenly, and blushed, ducking his head back into his knees.

“Do what?” 

If Alastor had looked even the tiniest bit mocking, or teasing, or annoyed, Lucifer would have dove into his blankets and that would have been that. No meeting, no big Assembly, the entirety of Hell could go to…well, Hell, for all he cared. 

But Alastor seemed honestly curious. Not soft, never that, but he was looking at Lucifer as if he actually cared what he had to say. 

“How do you keep going every day?” 

With anyone else, he would have apologized immediately for worrying them. Charlie would have started crying and immediately urging him to go see someone about his problem. Lilith would have listened, but a part of her would have been writing up her list of to-dos for the day. And anyone else – well. 

He didn’t have anyone else. 

That was part of the problem though, wasn’t it? 

But because Alastor was a cold, callous bastard, he didn’t have to apologize. He could just be honest. Already he was starting to feel some of the weight fall off his shoulders, as if carrying the words around had been half the battle. 

Alastor tapped his cane on the ground. “Because I have half a doe in the fridge, plans with Rosie next Tuesday, and in a few months I fully intend to rule Hell.”

The last one caught Lucifer completely by surprise. He half-snorted, half-coughed into the crook of his arm. “Excuse me?” He squeaked. “Should I be alarmed?” 

“Absolutely not, my dear.” When Alastor grinned, there was something remarkably predator about it. “Didn’t you hear me say the Sins would never listen to me? I couldn't do it alone.”

“But then how do you intend…” Lucifer stopped, and his cheeks turned an absolutely brilliant shade of scarlet. “You– you– you don’t mean?”

“Ah, there we go,” Alastor said. “Took you long enough. It’s a good thing you’ve got a pretty face, hmm?”

“I’m married!” 

Alastor leaned forward. For one brief second Lucifer thought he was going to kiss him – but instead, he pat him on the head, as if he was an overgrown toddler. “My dear…one wedding ring does not a marriage make.”

Lucifer scrambled out of bed and tumbled to the floor in his hurry to get away from the complete and utter madman. 

“Ah, good! You’re up!” Alastor snapped to attention, bustling about as he got Lucifer’s outfit prepared for the day with the grace and ease of a seasoned valet. 

Lucifer took the proffered outfit, gaping up at the demon looming above him like – a nightmare? A dream? You could never tell which was which when it came to the Radio Demon. “Were you trying to get me out of bed this entire time?” 

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“No!” He spluttered, his cheeks once against stained wine-red. “So all that stuff about – wanting to rule Hell was…?” He would absolutely explode if he had to complete the sentence.

“Perhaps if you get up in the next–” Alastor checked his bare wrist, no watch in sight. “Two minutes, I’ll let you know.” 

The man is absolutely bonkers, Lucifer thought, but he did pick himself up off the ground and start getting ready. For some reason, it wasn’t nearly as hard as it had been earlier this morning – not when Alastor was there to confuse, entice, confuse, ridicule him. 

Alastor walked jauntily towards the door, but paused with his hand on the knob. 

“One step at a time,” he said suddenly. 

“Excuse me?” 

Alastor graced him with his patented I have been saddled with an idiot look. “You asked me how I keep going. I take it one step at a time.” 

Then he was gone. Lucifer stared at the outfit he’d left for him -- it was his favorite suit, with gold accents and ruby highlights. When had Alastor bothered to notice?

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

One step at a time, huh? He could do that.

[halfbaked00q]

# undercover 00Q D/s

they have to go undercover for sth related to either finance or hacking ring idk. or actually, just a specific mark who is hard to track down except for in a specific type of club catering to a specific type of clientele

hrm maybe even better- they need to go undercover and assume that the type is what you'd normally expect, but actually as they approach & see it on the ground they see it's the other way around.

Bond notices this as they go on site- flags it up, they have to pivot their plans

so obv Q goes in as the main undercover lead and Bond as the sub

I think in this scenario Q is true vers, though loves indulging in being the dom, Bond knows how to mimic dom behavior for these kinds of deals but never actually engaged in kink so is relatively unversed (lol) here- he just read the subtleties of the dynamics and made a comment about it to Q, who started scrutinizing it closer and clocked it

The good thing is Q had brought some nice suits- they're going to have to improvise for Bond but they can figure something out

They go in, Q has that French persona which is popular in fanon, Bond in collar & cuffs. Q gives Bond some pointers on form, Bond does his raises-eyebrows jabby-comments banter bit, Q replies dryly but informatively, there's some internal narration by Bond about how this is unconventional but in the end it's just a mission all the same and so he does the wibbly sense of self/identity thing and sinks into his role (at this pt it's still surface level/just for show- he's putting on the role)

he's doing well until they get to where the meeting is to take place, and they insist that the sub be earplugged (blindfolded? maybe not that, might be a bit redundant since they shouldn't be making eye contact in this kind of setting…?) - but something like that to minimize side ppl hearing during business talks- even if it's “just” the subs

the choice is that or drugged

so they go with earplugs since at least this way Bond has his wits about him

they go in, Bond kneels by Q's seat- he knows he can't keep up with the conversation since he can't look up at them to lipread, so he just resigns himself to being a prop and physical backup, vs intel backup as well (and also rip cuz this means he can't help subtly back Q up if he needs the help either)

He kneels upright at first but then Q puts his hand on his head, and then subtly guides his head against his leg and starts petting him

At first Bond is just sort of taking it in, playing his part but kind of deconstructing it and mulling it over. but actually, he finds it quite nice and sort of meditative, ends up falling into it because there's not much else he can do in the moment

at some point Q's hand pauses and he cracks an eye open rather like a big cat, which actually unintentionally works well in Q's favor for whatever it is that's happening in the moment

the mark buys it, they conclude their negotiations and Q secures an invitation to whatever the next thing is (the actual inner circle? the guy's house? a private party?) and they shake hands to leave

(Q has gotten up at this point so Bond is kneeling upright again, watching them from under his eyelashes)

Q reaches down and strokes Bond's face then plucks the earplugs out

Bond blinks at the momentary influx of stimulus from the sounds returning, then rolls himself up smoothly to standing to follow Q back out to the main room

[yoshi17here]

♡ʚSkating into your armsɞ♡

YOSHIஐ: DAY2 GUYSSSS!! Enjoy!

“So,” he began, his tall figure towering over mine as he handed me my skates. “Ready to fall at least ten times today?” His teasing smile reached his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners.

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Who says I’m the one who’s going to fall? I’ve got great balance, thank you very much.”

He chuckled softly, his breath visible in the cold air. “We’ll see about that.”

The rink wasn’t too crowded, which was a relief. Soobin laced up his skates first, his long fingers deftly tying the knots as if he’d done this a hundred times before. I fumbled with mine for a moment before he crouched down in front of me, brushing my hands aside with a small laugh.

“Let me do it,” he said, his voice soft and warm, like the scarf he had wrapped around my neck earlier. His touch was gentle, his brows furrowed in concentration as he secured the skates snugly around my feet.

“There,” he said, standing up and offering me his hand. “Now you’re ready to beat me out there, right?”

I took his hand, the warmth of his palm seeping into mine despite the cold. “Oh, absolutely,” I teased. “You’d better keep up, Choi Soobin.”

We stepped onto the ice, and instantly, I felt my confidence waver. The slick surface was far more intimidating than I’d remembered, and I wobbled slightly, gripping Soobin’s arm for support.

He laughed, steadying me with ease. “You were saying something about great balance?”

“Shut up,” I mumbled, trying not to laugh.

He skated ahead a little, his movements surprisingly graceful for someone who claimed he wasn’t very good. “Come on, Y/N!” he called, turning around to skate backward as he reached out for me.

I took a deep breath and pushed off the wall, my legs shaky but determined. Slowly, I made my way toward him, and the pride on his face when I reached him was enough to make me forget all about the cold.

“See? You’re doing great,” he said, his voice full of encouragement. “Now, hold my hands, and we’ll go together.”

He extended both hands, and I took them hesitantly. He skated backward, pulling me gently along with him. The world around us blurred as I focused on his face, his wide smile and soft, comforting gaze.

“You’re not even looking at where you’re going,” I said, half-laughing, half-panicking.

“I don’t need to,” he replied. “I’ve got you.”

My heart skipped at his words, and I nearly lost my footing. He noticed instantly, tightening his grip to keep me upright.

“Careful!” he said, laughing. “I can’t have my girlfriend crashing already. That’s supposed to be my job.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help laughing along with him. As we skated, the nervousness melted away, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the layers of clothing we wore. Soobin kept me steady, guiding me with patience and a smile that never left his face.

By the end of it, my legs were sore, and I was positive I’d have bruises from the two times I’d actually fallen—but I didn’t care. Sitting on a bench to take off our skates, Soobin leaned down to inspect my knees, gently brushing away bits of ice that had clung to my jeans.

“See? I told you I’d fall less than you,” I said smugly, though my aching knees betrayed me.

He laughed, shaking his head. “You win this time, Y/N. But next time…”

“Next time, you’re the one going down,” I interrupted, grinning.

He smiled back, his eyes softening as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re cute when you’re competitive, you know that?”

The teasing tone in his voice made my cheeks heat up, and I shoved him lightly. “Come on, let’s get hot chocolate before I freeze.”

He stood up, grabbing my hand and pulling me close. “Good idea,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But only if you promise to hold my hand the whole way there.”

I didn’t let go the rest of the night.

[xf-cases-solved]

i made more x-files words with my brain, wrote them down, and then put them on the internet for you to read and process into meaning with your own brain, if you're so inclined. cancer arc angst for those who are always sluts for s4 like me

click on the following link to consume my words: She Still Has Her Hair

[cw: suicidal ideation and descriptions of illness/hospitals/ivs/pain medication]

here's a snippet:

She hasn't lost her hair, and that's so much worse.

If she had lost her hair, maybe he would have noticed how bad things have gotten before now. 

Because that's what you think of when you think of cancer patients, right? You picture bald heads and missing brows above sunken, darkly circled eyes. You picture tears in the bathroom as the buzz of a razor shears away the remaining tufts among the patchy surface of a scalp. You picture each fallen strand as another inch marched toward a headstone. When you see a cancer patient with no hair, you know that they are Sick with a capital S. When a cancer patient with no hair shows symptoms of their illness, it doesn't come as a surprise.

However, Scully hasn't lost her hair, and so when she calls him at eleven fifteen on a Sunday night—voice a cracked windshield about to shatter into a million pieces, and a sob lodged in her throat like a chicken bone she can't cough up—he's taken by surprise.

He shouldn't be, but he is.

She still has her hair.

But "Mulder, it's me" has never sounded so frail before, and it terrifies him almost more than the voicemail she left on his answering machine two, nearly three years ago; the one that ended with the sounds of a physical fight filled with cries for help before being abruptly cut off, leaving nothing but horrible questions and no answers.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He'd been dozing on the couch with the lights of a muted infomercial dancing over his face, but at the sound of her voice he is instantly upright and alert. When she doesn't answer right away, he presses, more firmly, "Scully? What's wrong? "

"I was prescribed a new medication at my appointment Friday afternoon, and I can't..." Through the receiver he hears her take a steadying breath. "Supposedly this medication is meant to have a less nauseating effect on patients, but in roughly seven percent of cases, it has actually been shown to increase nausea in certain individuals, leading to severe emesis which eventually culminates in dehydration, presenting with symptoms such as dry mouth, lightheadedness, infrequent or oddly colored urine, confu—"

"And are you one of these patients in the seven percent?" Mulder asks, interrupting her clinical recitation that he suspects is her way of keeping herself detached from her own experience. Scully's silence is answer enough. "When was the last time you were able to keep something down?"

"I don't know," she says quietly.

"More than twelve hours?"

"Yes."

"More than twenty-four?" Nothing. "More than thirty-six?" She's silent. "Scully, you haven't been able to keep down food or water for over thirty-six hours?"

"It started early yesterday morning. Before sunrise, I think."

"Is it just vomiting? Is there anything else going on?"

"I..." She trails off, and Mulder suspects her innate desire to never show a shred of weakness to anyone (but especially him, for some godforsaken reason) is currently at war with the part of her that's spent the better part of two days all alone on the bathroom floor. 

"Tell me, Scully. Don't try to lie or sugarcoat it, just be honest."

"The medication, in conjunction with the physical act of vomiting, has led to a fairly severe case of myalgia—muscle pain—that began and is most prominent in the neck and upper back, but which has since spread to... to... oh God, Mulder"—the crack in her voice is heartbreaking—"it hurts everywhere. Everywhere . I'm in so much pain and I haven't taken a piss in over a day and every time I throw up my head pounds so hard my vision goes white. That's not hyperbole, Mulder, these headaches are quite literally blinding, and what if it's not the pain causing it? What if there's new tumor growth affecting my optic nerves, and this is just foreshadowing for what's yet to come? I don't want to go blind, Mulder, what am I going to do? I can't work if I'm blind. I can't do anything. I don't like the dark, and everything in my body hurts, and I just want it all to stop. Please help. Please help make it stop, Mulder, I hurt so bad." 

By the end of her venting, the sob that had been stuck in her throat has been set loose, and she's crying freely now, pouring out her heart in a way that would probably sound like full-blown bawling if she were strong enough. As it is, her weeping comes out in a strained wheeze, like the squeaky whistle of air sneaking through a small crack in the window when the car is speeding down a highway. 

"Please," she begs again, and the way she speaks reminds him of what it was like to wake up with a stomachache in the middle of the night as a kid and cry out for his mother. It reminds him how desperately afraid and alone he'd feel until his mother was finally roused by his calls, and padded into his room with sleepy eyes and a soft voice so as to not wake up his sister in the room next door.

Maybe, he thinks, it doesn't matter how old you are—that no matter what, being sick by yourself will always be your loneliest moment.

"I'm grabbing my keys right now, Scully, I'm on my way out the door." He jingles the ring of keys in his hand by the receiver of the phone so that she can hear their little chime and hopefully be comforted by it. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay," she whispers, no longer crying, but Mulder suspects it has more to do with a lack of physical strength than anything else.

"I'm gonna have to take you to the hospital," he warns. He's sure she expects as much, but it would be easier to get the fight out of the way now if she's going to be resistant.

It's a testament to how utter dogshit she must feel when she says nothing more than another melancholic, "Okay." Somehow, her agreeing to seek help scares him more than if she were refusing. 

"Hang tight, Scully," he tells her gently. "I'm coming."

[matchadobo]

KIDD; the pirate's princess

wc: 6686 summary: princess name, a spirited and audacious royal who ends up meeting captain eustass kidd in one of the festivals of her kingdom. unbeknownst of each other's real identities, their encounter was cut off short immediately and left them craving for more. warnings: afab reader, nsfw 🔞(actual seggs please read at your own discretion), princess au, running away theme, bad parents, i rly can't think of anything else there's rly nothing heavy here, not proofread omg TT

princess full name. a not so ordinary princess that always finds herself wounding up in sticky situations. known for her intrepid antics that drove her knights mental: sneaking out late at night to party with the villagers during festivals, visiting the farms of townsfolk and often setting animals free, and playing tag with the kids and sometimes causing ruckus with them. she wasn’t satisfied confined in the enormous walls of the castle, it’s too pretentious. 

one would say her behaviors aren’t fit for a princess who is supposed to be prude, proper, and ladylike. in contrast to her escapades, she’d love a little thrill more. not that she gives two fucks about the hearsays. she remains happy in her own little adventures in her small town of the kingdom. 

that’s why in the dusk of breezy summer, castle guards are relentlessly in pursuit of the princess yet again; an often occurrence in the kingdom.

the furtive young woman finds herself dancing in the middle of the lively and colorfully lit limestone floors on the marketplace. she hooks arms with a variety of villagers and skips about the floors as heels click on the ground in tone with the clapping and dancing of the fellow citizens who celebrated the vigor of the approaching evening. 

you soon got tired and went to one of the mini bars, sitting yourself down after ordering a glass of rum. “village always this lively?” a stranger spoke beside you. he sat with his back facing the counter with both arms propped on the surface of it to support his weight, one hand holding a glass of scotch. he landed his gaze on you, lemon eyes enrapturing you and leaving you speechless.

you cleared your throat to get a hold of yourself, by the looks of him and his remark—he’s a foreigner. his fiery red hair reflected his bold demeanor that intimidated you less than it intrigued you, his snowy skin that contrasted the darkness of his voice, and his sharp grin that mirrored his defined features and structure. a truly captivating man had greeted you. 

“often, yes.” you responded, throwing him a polite smile. “the town has festivals once a week, it’s a tradition.” you continued with a small laugh after having a sip of your drink. 

“festivals for what?”

“for the princess.” you played with the ice on your drink as you shook the glass in a circular motion.  “she likes to have fun in the village a lot.”

“princess’ pretty special then, aye? ‘s not everyday those preppy royals find time to join their subjects for a party.”

“you think so? most of the people here think she’s quite the source of the kingdom’s headache, not really a special one and most definitely not fit to be a princess.”

“i’d say bullshit. you expect these villagers know jack shit about bein’ a princess? nada. bet that princess of yours is the merry of this town, aye?”

you bursted into laughter, holding your stomach as you almost fell over your seat if it wasn’t for his heel keeping your chair upright. “that’s the first i’ve heard when talking about the princess. that’s kind of you.” 

he scoffed a smirk, sipping on his scotch afterwards. “me and kind doesn’t ring right, dollface.” he gave you a side eye, golden eyes piercing through the darkness of the night. “i’ve done things that don't even come close to kind.”

“that so?” you tilted your head in amusement. “like what? tell me.”

“you like the danger, aye?” he leaned closer. 

“well, i’ve grown tired of dancing and you’re the most interesting one here, so go ahead. enthrall me with your tales, unkind gentleman.” you scooted closer, chin leaning atop your fists as you braced yourself for his stories. 

his chest thundered in laughter as he faced you as he went on a tangent about his journeys as one of the worst generations. the evening reached midnight before you could realize how much time passed, going shop to shop with this stranger certainly made you the happiest after a long time. you two rambled about the wonders of the pirate while munching on pretzels and candy apples and downing mugs upon mugs of liquor. 

it was like he was building the world for you as he described the four seas along with his infamy, a wanted man of his caliber with a notorious reputation. you know you should get yourself far away the moment he first announced that he was a pirate but goodness do you love the thrill of his peril. the way his chest puffs up with each anecdote of his battles across the blues. how he effortlessly magnetized (stole) a plate of snacks for you two to snack on and well, to impress you. to get critically close to you as you get intoxicated by either the liquor or his ravishing demeanor towards you. you are perfectly aware that staying with him will undoubtedly risk your safety. but you weren’t the one to follow the rules, right?

the same goes for the pirate. he somewhat loves the mystery you emanate. clapping and cheering from time to time but never failing to snap back spunky remarks at his taunts. he revels on how you earnestly listen to his narratives and be awestruck at his feats, your eyes proved enough from the way you bat your eyelashes and lure him closer with the hues of your orbs. or maybe how your eyes never left his as you studied each bit of his face—the way his huge scar was engraved on his skin, the way his lips quirk up at how victorious he remains in duels, the way his eyes never lose fire as he ramble about the one piece, and how his body language changes each time your knees or arms touch. 

“you’re pretty great, huh?”

“i’d love to tell you more but it ain’t fair that i know nothin’ about the most grippin’ woman i’ve met.” 

“flattery would get you nowhere, kidd.” you chuckled, shifting in your seat. “i’m just a villager here, nothing special about this one.”

“you ain’t foolin’ me, i’ve seen the eyes of the townsfolk ‘round here.” he scooted closer, cocking his brow at the people at the market. “you’re no ordinary woman, these men couldn’t take their eyes off of you. and unfortunately, i seem to be one of them. yet i’m lucky enough to share a drink with you, pretty one.”

“aren’t you a charmer, captain?” you finally met his eyes, fiery as he studied your face. “flowery words don’t suit a brute like you, i’d say.”

“why don't you add more to my luck tonight and tell me your name before this night ends, doll.”

your faces grew inches closer, the aroma of liquor was pungent on your noses. he scanned your eyes, took a long glance on your lips, and back to your eyes again. his canines tugged at his lower lip before licking them subtly. reveling on the smile he elicited from you, he inhaled a deep breath before tilting his head.

before you could answer him, what jolted you from your seat was the frantic callouts of the castle guards. they were calling out to you and you could feel the chills running down your spine again, each time they did this you felt this way. panic washed over you and you instinctively fled the place as you dashed to the alleyways, kidd reaching over to you but failed to even get a touch of your wrist.

“o-oi! where are you going?!”

you gave him a meek smile before running away and disappearing into the shadows of the alleyway as you made your way back to the castle. the guards had invaded the market and put a stop to the party, searching up each woman in hopes of finding the princess. 

“the fuck is going on ‘ere?” kidd stood up from his seat before killer laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him. the two pirates scanned the place

“palace guards.” killer announced, helping kidd’s brain to comprehend. “i think you’ve just shared a drink with the princess.” 

you ran far until you reached the backyard where no guards were present, it had been your path to sneaking in and out. 

“you should stop seeing that man, name.” your mother spoke from your room, sat at the edge of the bed as if waiting for you. 

“you were watching, mother?”

“always. but i wouldn’t deny the fact that that man had made you smile the widest in years.” 

“he told me about his adventures,” you started, looking over the window in hopes of getting a glimpse of that redhead. “how the four blues looked, how he fought and faced toe to toe with his foes, how magical the grand line and the new world is, and how free he was.” you sighed as you draw back at how he’d write it out for you, each of which keeping you engrossed at each tale he tells.

your mother placed comforting hands atop your shoulders then traced up to either side of your face. “your eyes say it all, honey. i can see how much light that man brought out in you.” she started. “but i cannot stand idly when a pirate has caught you in his trap.” her grip on your face loosened as she made her way to your balcony doors, simultaneously shutting them. “much less a part of the ill-famed worst generation, a ragtag of disasters. it’d be vain to let him get his hands on you, he’s only after your status and the treasure you possess. that’s what pirates are.” her tone grew deeper, more sharp and strict. “you are not to speak to him again, do you understand?” she firmly announced, pointing her closed paper fan at you.

you nodded bashfully, the change in your demeanor broke her heart less than it urged her to keep you locked in the castle and away from that hazard. she strutted down to your doors and left you at your downcasted self. “your suitors will be here by tomorrow afternoon, you are to dine with them for lunch and pick out the next king of the kingdom. don’t do something that will embarrass us.”

the shut of your doors echoed far and resounded in your ears. you cried yourself to sleep at the foul turn of events that night, burying your sobs in the damp pillows of your quarters. that morning, you unwillingly participated as you gave off the fakest smile you could muster while laughing halfheartedly at their empty jokes. their humor and charisma are far less than mediocre, it is phenomenally childish in a sense that you’d rather pretend to faint to get out of that situation.

daft princes that left you bored and apathetic from their lack of liberty and substance. royals that knew nothing but the privilege of the rich and classy airheads. 

 unlike that pirate you’ve almost spent your midnight with, a riveting man that enraptured you and shook your world to the core. compliments that made your heart flutter more than it should be. the enticing danger his aura holds. and adventures that invited you to join him for the next time he ventures out into the blues. the fire in his eyes each time you locked gazes with him  and the intimacy you felt only when you sat down with him were unparalleled and left you craving for more.

“you were not your best today, name.” your father spoke to you, joining you as you watched your subjects by your grand balcony. “were the vicinal kingdoms too inadequate for your liking?”

you kept quiet for a moment before responding with contempt. “a group of men who are much too shallow wouldn’t be fit to be my king.” you turned around before stopping your tracks to continue. “i’d want a man who has the same fire as i do, father. not a prince who’d rule the kingdom with his foolish heroism and blank principles solely based on nobility.” you left your father outside, brimming with disdain. 

and you didn’t see him again for the following days, the castle had kept you on lockdown. monitoring your every move and hindering you from going anywhere except your room and the courtyard. it’s too stifling. 

you longed to see him again and hear more of his thrilling stories. you’d never forget how you two laughed under the stars with alcohol coursing through your veins and stimulating the desire for each other. 

but tonight was the annual masquerade ball where one of your suitors might potentially be the next reign for the kingdom. it’s main purpose is to celebrate the prosperity of the kingdom, yet masquerades were added for the notion of finding your next husband. 

as the maids prepared you for the ball, you’d have this empty look in your face as you dwell at how you released the only fire you could’ve had. 

the maids dressed you in a ruby and stygian gown that radiated your elegance. adorned with regal ornaments and gems that shone at each struck of light. the bodice of the dress is clad with lacy black overlays on either side of your chest down to your waist akin to the intertwining patterns of spiderwebs. its sleeves were long and got more loose as it reached your wrist, its ends sewn with handcrafted with the same lacy accents on your chest. the neckline was sewn into a square fitting style that graced your neck and collarbones where a pearly necklace accentuated the area. the middle end of your bodice was where a brooch with your kingdom crest resided, matching the glimmers of the beads in your dress. the overskirt cascades down from your cinched waistline in layers of red, voluminous mesh tulles with its hemline embroidered by horizontal lines of black as it reaches the floor. lastly, they slid and tied black strappy heels that go up to your knees for your shoes.

they then comb through your locks, curling it up and tidying some braids adorned by red ribbons and golden clips at the crown of your head. leaving some tendrils loosely hanging by the sides of your face as it complimented your gold, dangling earrings in a shape of roberto coins. partnering your face with a sharp red blush and bright, crimson lipstick as your eyelids shone in a glittery gold eyeshadow and pointy eyeliner. 

as your name soon got announced in the grand hall where nobles from different kingdoms would love to witness the beauty that is you, it’s as if a treasure had been unearthed before them as they feasted their eyes on the masked princess. earnestly observing your poise and allure, entranced by how you strut at the porcelain floors of your castle.

yet it was somewhat foolish of you to try and search for him in the hall, you hoped yet you knew that it’d be impossible to find a pirate in a ball. soon enough, the pretentious dancing had started. it dreaded you the most, since these gentlemen, regardless of age, tries to woo you and pick you up just to get a taste of your beauty. it irked you to an extent where you’d want to kick them in their manhood.

roughly thirty minutes have passed and you feel yourself falling asleep despite the movements of each dance. from the sleazy kings and airheaded princes, they’re all from the same mould of plain, boring men with no charm. even with the masks that covers half of their face, you could see all kinds of uglies in each of them. that is until you hook arms and hold hands with this one gentleman with the same familiar set of vermillion locks that sat in a disheveled manner atop his head. you felt that same aura from the man you’ve been longing to meet once again and it excited you. from the way he firmly held your waist and how his callous hands didn't faze you but only drew you closer by the princely figure clad in a three piece suit in black, two of the buttons on his dress shirt were unbuttoned to showcase more of his snowy skin from his upper chest to his neck. 

he had seemed to read how your expressions change with the smirk that made its way to his lips. “ you seem to be dozin’ off, princess. bored?” he greeted, as he met your hopeful eyes beneath each other’s masks. behind those pieces of fabric, you two knew all too well who each other were. 

“k-kidd-”

“shh.” he cut you off, stoically looking around to try and search the area for any hostility from the foolish nobles. thankfully, no suspicions arose due to the fact that masks and mysteries made the night more magical. “as much as i’d love to cause a ruckus, i’d like to dance with you a little more.”

this was the first time you’ve looked up with so much hope and marvel at the man you were dancing with, seemingly getting lost in his sunny eyes and the way he moves with you. “is it really you?”

“mhm, can’t believe it?” he laughed a little, giving you a little twirl before securely holding you back in your place again. “ya better wipe that drool off your lips cuz it might give us away, my lovely.” he scrunched his nose as he teased you, grip growing tighter to elicit a reaction from you. 

“how did you bypass the guards?”

“knocked them unconscious, nothin’ drastic.” he responded and left you giggling silently. “but hey, lemme  marvel at you for a minute, shortstack.  ‘cuz damn you’re quite the goddess tonight.” he poked on your chin, making your body feel hot all the more. 

“still the sweet talker, huh?” you scoffed as you hid your creeping blush. you bit on your tinted lips and avoided his gaze as you leaned down his shoulders and inhaled his alluring, metallic scent. “wherever do you get all that confidence?”

“i’ve gone through hell and back to finally see you and dance with you, there’s no reason for me to hold back, no?” he got closer, reveling in your scent and warmth. 

from an outsider’s perspective, this is quite a romance to see. most of your suitors soon become despondent because it appears that there’s already a winner, a king of the princess’ heart. the world seemingly revolving around the two of you as you both fit perfectly in each other’s arms as you two moved harmoniously with the melody of the orchestra. it warmed the hearts of the audience and most definitely, your parents. 

“what do you say if we,” you started, tracing the lines of his coat with your ringed fingers. “run away after this? just the two of us, go someplace where we can be alone together.”

his grip on your hands and waist grew tighter, matching the chuckle that lowly rumbled on his chest. he met your eyes once again. “i thought you’d never ask. i seem to be getting more drawn to you, princess.”

after a few minutes of dancing with him, the banquet started and the lot of you had feasted on the opulent food readied in the long dining tables of the grand hall. all the while you two kept exchanging glances and throwing smiles here and there.

once every noble was busy with their royal bullshit, you and kidd had taken the liberty to sneak outside the venue where the guards were gradually falling asleep. you, kidd, and his crew had taken care of knocking them unconscious in order to make it out of that hellhole. 

you two broke out of laughter as you got a good distance away from the palace, holding on your knees as you tried catching your breath and composing yourselves. he then pulled you closer by your waist as he leaned down, your noses brushing together and breaths touching each others’ lips. “c’mere and let me ki-”

“you pirates really think you can just head straight for the prize?” you put a finger between your lips and his. “come, let’s find a place more…intimate.” you winked at him, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his as you dragged him to a place of your liking. 

you two made your way to the local bathhouse where you used to relax with your friends from the village when you were a child. you were met with the landlady, one of your friends too, and looked at her with that knowing look. you placed your index finger atop your lips, signaling for her to stay quiet. she smiled at you mischievously, completely understanding what your plans were. 

you led him to one of the VIP rooms of the bathhouse and shut the door afterwards. “a bathhouse?” he asked, scanning the place.

“i’ve reserved the entire place, don’t worry.” you assured, taking off your mask and his simultaneously. “we can be as loud as we want here, captain.” you sultrily added, leaning closer to his ear as your hands moved across his body. 

“what a dirty thing for a princess to say, don’tcha think?” he replied, large hands lingering by your rear. “they’re probably wonderin’ where she is right now, hm?” he leaned down closer, hands traversing to the strings of your corset and precariously playing with them.

“let them.” you replied, your hands moving to where the buttons of his suit are. “i’m quite busy with more important things right now.”

“eh? like what?” he started, slowly undoing the knot of your corset. “fuckin’ a pirate?”

“oh shut up.” you discarded his upper garments, hands roaming the vastness of his toned torso. “clearly, you want me more than i want you.” he hummed in approval, finally crashing your lips together. 

he had you sat down on one of the sinks in the room with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lower half still clothed yet you can feel his member rubbing against you as he raised the skirt of your dress and pressed his crotch closer to yours. hums and moans emanating from both of your lips.

tucking a hair behind your ear, his rough hands held your jaw close to bury his tongue deeper in you. the span of his fingers holding your neck in place as he sucked on your lip, satisfied at the swollen and ruby result. 

you pulled on his hair from time to time, eliciting hums and growls of approval from him. your hands spanned across his broad back, marveling at the muscles and scars from his years of piracy. fingers gliding across his strong arms that gripped places that were sensitive from you,  your head tilting to where you can both fight for dominance in the kiss.

“have i ever told you,” he started, lips lingering by your ear and wandering down the column of your neck. “that my favorite color is red?” and just like that, your corset and overskirt was on the floor. the bastard haphazardly pulled the thing away after skillfully untying it.

“aren’t you skilled at taking clothes off!” you praised, smiling at him with your smudged lipstick. 

“you could say, i had tons of practice.” he replied, biting your lower lip.

“playboy.” you hopped off the sink, disappearing into the showers to wash up before jumping in the large tub that was dug down the rocky floors. “i seem to have gone away with a dangerous man.”

he followed shortly after, entering the same shower cubicle as you. the cold water torrenting down your bare bodies as you returned kisses with one another. his rough hands roaming the softness of your skin and each curve of your body, his hands and lips not leaving you and rendered you breathless. 

you pulled away, turning around. “look at me.” you raised his chin so you could have a good look at him. “you look like a prince yourself without the goggles and the make up, hm?” you placed a kiss on his cheek as you marveled at his bangs that had water dripping on its ends. it messily curtained his forehead and yellow eyes as the scarlet pigment contrasted his wintry skin. 

he looked away, cheeks heating up with your compliments and touch. but he bit back once more with a smug grin. “no way in hell i could be a prince, i’m a fuckin’ king, baby.” 

“alright alright, let me just appreciate how handsome you are, okay?” you held his face between your hands as you reached over to place a kiss at the corner of his lips. “what do you say we relax for a moment in the bath, hm?”

“relax means fuck, right?” he retorted, that usual grin back to his face. 

you bursted into laughter as you made your way to the wide bath, moaning at the relief of the water. he soon joined after you, reveling at the warmth of and tranquility of the bathwater. it had some rose petals floating on the aromatic water, scattered along with healing herbs. 

“i wish i could stay here forever with you, kidd.” you gazed towards him, soon standing up before him. 

he placed both of his hands on your hips as he studied and memorized how your body looks and relished his plans on how to ruin you. “we can do that,” he replied. “i’ll take you with me.”

you got settled down by his toned thighs, rigidly supporting your weight as you straddled his lap. he looked at you with so much desire as he scrutinized your body with his lips, placing wet kisses on each column and juncture of your torso. sucking on each of your mounds and taking his time nibbling on the bundle of nerves in between, ravaging moans out of you until you tug on his hair and scratch on his skin. he left visible marks on you from your jaw, across your neck, on the span of your chest, on the roundness of your breasts, and on the stretch of your stomach. he also took his time placing kisses on your fingers, particularly your knuckles up to your wrist where your pulse resides. 

he then pulled you closer by your hips, your core and his manhood rubbing against each other. he kneaded at the flesh on your rear as you also took your time in leaving hickeys at the wide span of his chest and neck. savoring the feeling of your lips on his skin as you get closer and closer to his member, “ready?” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his overwhelmingly prodigious length before you dip down the lukewarm bathwater. 

he licked his lips as he looked you down before softly holding your jaw and rubbing your lips with his thumb, “can you handle it, though?” his canines tugged at his lips as he grinned, haughtily looking down at you.

“you’ll be whining for more when i’m done with you, big guy.” you scoffed before finally dipping down and giving him the best head of his life. under the water, your gurgling sounds from gagging too much due to his girth and length drove him to the seventh heaven. he threw his head back, hands gripping either side of your head as he bucked his hips forward and felt the head of his length touch your throat mercilessly. he moaned in bliss as it chorused your name, relishing at how your nails dug by his hips and how bubbles rose from where you were submerged.

you finally emerged, trying to get some air as your chest heaved. “it felt fuckin’ surreal underwater, goddamn.” he welcomed you, “glad it didn’t kill ya.” he gave your rear a smack after you gave him a side glare. 

“it almost did!” you pouted and turned your back on him as you crossed your arms. he stood up as he laughed to himself, snaking his arms by your sides then up to your mounds. you squealed at the sudden warmth that played on your breasts, fiddling with the bundle of nerves on the middle. hot kisses also littered your neck as it traveled up your jaw. 

“can you stay mad at me, hm?” he nibbled at your ear, deep voice shaking you down to your core. “i’ll make it up to you real good, my lovely.” his hands slithered down your crevice, it throbbed at his touch.

his fingers slid in your core, two fingers already sending shockwaves coursing through your nerves. you could feel him rubbing his member at the cleft of your rear, stimulating you from front and back and driving you beyond your sanity. your knees felt numb, you would’ve fallen down to the ground if it weren’t for his hand on your core and the other was wrapped on your neck. 

“tell me,” he gruffly whispered. “ya still mad?” his fingers fervently rubbed you while his thumb stimulated your clit as it hazed all your senses. your eyes rolled at the back of your head as you clawed on his sinewy arms for support, struggling to keep yourself standing up at how your thighs shook amidst the arrival of your climax. all you could throw back was slurred words and continuous pleads that soon turned into desperate moans. “‘s what i thought.”

you panted heavily as you reached your climax, getting a hold of yourself as he sat you down on the space between his thighs on the wooden platform under the hot bath. all the while, comforting you with scattered kisses on your shoulders. his arms rested around your waist, placing his lips on your shivering skin as he seemingly can’t get enough of you. “what do ya think about bein’ queen of pirates, aye?”

“i’ve had enough of regality and its bullshit.” you huffed an annoyed sigh.  “but i wouldn’t mind if i’m with you.” you leaned closer to his neck, squirming under his touch near your sensitive areas.

“that’s pretty sweet of you, huh? this the princess package?” he placed a kiss on your cheek before nibbling on your ear.

“ah trust me, the princess in me is a version you wouldn’t want to experience.” you pressed his head further to your neck to feel more of his hot kisses.

“hm? i’d fuck the shit outta her then.” he licked a long trail on the column of your neck.

“let’s…” you started, trying to catch your breath. you turned around to face him, settling yourself on his lap once more. “go all the way.”

“cmon then.” he cocked a grin, “show me what you got.”

after rubbing his thick head on your crevice, you’re gradually adjusting to his staggering size. he leaned back and spread his arms by the sides of the rocks as he watched you fall into the abyss of delightful sin at how full you feel. you grabbed  on his shoulders for support as you bounced on his length, his hands fisting the flesh on your bum and guiding your movement. 

“you feel so fuckin’ good, my princess. such a fuckin’ whore for me.” he moaned, caressing the side of your face as he connected his lips with you. his arms wrapping around your waist as he thrusts his hips in chorus with yours, sending you to the ends of the earth at how desperate he was pounding into you. he buried his face between your breasts, engulfing his moans and biting at your sensitive spots..

each time he looked up at you he’ll see hearts in your eyes and savor how flushed your cheeks were. and each time you’d look down at him, he’d have this clouded look in his gaze where it seems that all he sees and hears is you. simultaneously chasing each other’s high, criminally fucking into each other as you two pursued climax after climaxes. not getting enough of each other and insatiably attracted to the feeling of being connected to one another. your core keeping his member warm and his member filling you up were the pleasures you two’d risk everything for. you’d wanted to do it all over again with him. 

and so you two did, professing love to one another through your carnal movements and whispering sweet and prurient somethings until the clock struck three and until your lower halves gave out. overstimulated and drunk on each other. bodies littered with bite marks, handprints, and kisses. that’s how you spent your night. 

you two snuck off once again, clothes loosely done as you made your way to the pier near his ship. you two plan on watching the sunrise, unbothered if someone else suspected the two of you. your hair had naturally dried, not caring if it’s styled or not. and so was kidd, his hair was loosely down and wasn’t in an updo. in your sincerest opinion, he looked more handsome that way.

 it was just an unspoken agreement that you two’d wait till sunrise and reveled each other’s embrace before parting again in the morning. hand in hand as they rested on his lap, your head settled on as his shoulders as he leaned back by a pillar to support the weight of both of you. 

“would you be delighted if i say i plan on joining you in that beautiful ship?” you suggested, observing the sea beneath your feet as they hang by the edge of the pier.

he perked up, looking at your face for any hint of insincerity. “ya really serious about that?!” his eyes shone in anticipation and excitement. “damn right i’d be hella delighted! fuck this kingdom, aye?”

you laughed a little. “fuck this kingdom.” you agreed, looking out the horizon as you watched the sun peeking and blinding you. you placed a hand above your line of sight to shield the light and watch the beauty of the sunrise. 

only to be scooped up by the palace guards and watch kidd be taken away from you as they knocked him down to the ground. it all happened too fast as you got farther and farther away from the man you spent the night with. he watched you disappear into the palace with a scornful glint in his eyes, reaching over with his face planted to the ground. you both screamed each other’s name, trying to break free from the strong restraints of the knights. 

“you are to be locked in your room until you learn your lesson!” your father announced harshly, “i am very disappointed in you, name. you’ve put our family’s name in disgrace!” 

“i couldn’t care less about the family’s name and whatever bullshit royalty! that’s all you two ever cared about! did you two actually care about me?! if i wanted to be a princess and marry a hooligan i don’t even know just because he can make our economy better?!” you bit back, tears streaming down your face as you poured out all your resent. your parents gasping at your language and boldness. “so tell me! w-what about him?! what will you do with him?!” 

“that man has done further damage to the palace and to you. he has bewitched you! such a feat only pirates can make!” 

“speak more ill of him and i swear, you two will have no heir to the throne much less a daughter!” the room felt grim and you see the horror in your parents’ eyes.  “in the short time that we’d met, he had been there more than you two could ever be in the two decades that i’ve lived!”

the room went silent.

“he’ll be rotting in the dungeon, awaiting his beheading. and you can’t do anything to stop it.” your parents stormed out the room after their verdict, you knelt to the floor in defeat, screaming to the ceiling at the cruel turn of events.

but you weren’t one to just stand by when your dream was about to be taken from you. as a child, you’ve explored every nook and cranny of the castle as you itched for adventure you couldn't keep still on your feet. no secret passageways are foreign to you. so you made your way to the passages among the castle walls. it was a dusty and skimpy trip but you were tunnel visioning right now, all that mattered was getting him out and leaving this rotten kingdom. 

you finally reached the dungeons where the knights are lazily guarding their sole prisoner. he caught sight of you and immediately livened up, you motioned for him to stay quiet as you took care of the knights by hitting them in a particular area of their neck and knocking them unconscious. 

“that was hot.” he remarked but you shushed him.

“no time for that! let’s get you out of here and sail away!”

“h-hold on!” the panic and hesitation in his demeanor was evident. he was not that usual haughty eustass kidd you’ve gotten to love. “are you really sure you want to sail away? with someone like me?”

“you ain’t deaf, aren’t you?!”

“a-aren’t you… scared of me?” he looked away bashfully, biting at his lips. 

you bursted into laughter. “what makes you say that, you silly fuck?”

he met your eyes, savoring the melody of your laughter. “all i’ve done was kill, pillage, and repeat. never in my life have i fuckin’ loved someone, and it’s scarin’ me how much i feel for you.” you noticed how his eyes got glassy and how his voice wavered. 

“look at me, eustass.” you held his face as your arms went past the holes between the bars. “i’ve seen how you are and i love everything about you. the fact that you came back for me is enough reason for me to know that you’re just as crazy for me as i am for you. a night with you had taught me more love than all my parents would’ve in my twenty years of existence.” tears streamed down your face as you announced your passion to him. it pleased you at how his expression softened with how he shut his eyes and leaned on your touch. “but, i have never loved someone too, what do you say we figure this shit called love together?”

his heart felt tight in that last bit, it was a found feeling he always experiences with you. with your words, all fear brimming in him  was instantly eradicated. to him, getting saved felt like outright vulnerability. and you’d expect kidd to not take that well knowing his nature, but something about the way you took the reigns and knew exactly what to do to escape made him feel hot and wanting for more of it. how you cleared his head and arranged it for him. or how you’d punt the shit outta those guards that he’d hoped you’d be so kind to give him a demo. and how you came back for him when all hope was lost. perhaps a new version of himself was discovered.

once you had opened his dungeon doors, all he could do was scoop you up by his arms and give you the deepest kiss. his grip tightening around you as you buried yourself deep inside his lips. it was just a few hours yet he managed to long for your lips and be in such misery without you. 

as you two made your escape, you couldn’t care less whether you get caught because kidd was no less stronger than each and everyone of your knights. the greatest knight you could ask for. he amassed metals and pummeled each one who dared cross your ways as you both exited the palace and made your way to the pier where his crewmates waited. he hoisted you up with his ability, a firm grip on your waist as he lifted you up like you weigh nothing. 

“got a pretty big treasure, captain?” one of his men greeted, smiling at the two of you as he unfurled the sails.

“hell yeah.” he gave you a kiss at the top of your forehead before raising your chin with his index finger and giving you a deep peck. “she’s quite the catch.”

idk why this took so long but yes more aus with kidd! these are so much fun to make uwu

[jasper-tarot-reader]

Neopets/Skyrim Tarot: VIII. Strength

Strength is another card where it's pretty hard to imagine them as a person, simply because Strength is an attribute, not an epithet or title. At best, you could say it's an embodied concept. Strength typically speaks of things like overcoming parts of ourself, emotional maturity and fortitude, and being in control of our reactions to things. Very rarely is it about physical strength.

Illusen is an Earth Faerie who left Faerieland (well before it fell from the sky) to live in Meridell. She, along with Jhudora, are some of the most consistent with giving out Faerie Quests to aspiring Neopets from her glade. It's also highly implied, especially on the Three of Swords card in this deck, that she and Jhudora are ex-girlfriends. And as seen by Marina the Healing Fountain Faerie and Seraphina the Omelette Faerie (we have an Omelette Faerie now?), Faeries getting into relationships is not uncommon. It seems like the term "sister" is used between Faeries like the word "friend" is rather than them all somehow sharing parents.

In the card, she is soothing a "Yellow"/default Noil Petpet without letting them hurt themself or others, responding to their anger with calm compassion. Noils are a common sight around Meridell, so there's no surprise about it appearing here with Illusen. Illusen is waiting for this Noil to wear themself out without letting them hurt themself or others, and she'll still be here when they do.

Ultimately, no notes. Great card, great depiction of Strength, great character choice, and they managed to keep the lion symbolism too.

On the other hand...Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm, potential High King of Skyrim, student of the Graybeards and the Way of the Voice...

What the hell are you doing here, man?

Okay, look. This guidebook is absolutely Stormcloak Rebellion-biased, but even with the description of Strength, it doesn't seem...written like the author actually understood the Strength card? Here, I shall quote it thus:

Strength allows us to overcome all obstacles, to rise above any challenge and tackle it head-on. It was by this strength that Ulfric Stormcloak overcame the Empire and saved Skyrim from foreign rule. Have you found the will to follow his example, or will you abuse such power?

But if your Dragonborn sides with the Imperial Legion...this never happens. At the end of the Imperial side of that quest, Ulfric Stormcloak straight up gets killed, whether by your Dragonborn's hand or by General Tullius's (btw, Tullius doesn't appear in this deck at all...) and is replaced as Jarl of Windhelm by Brunwulf Free-Winter.

It gets weirder when you get to the upright and reversed meanings. Upright:

UPRIGHT Rebelling against the Empire was no easy feat, given the might of its armies and vast resources. But Ulfric found the strength to overcome those obstacles, gathering his people and leading them to victory. You, too, have it within you to find the strength to overcome your current challenges and prevail.

Reversed:

REVERSED Sometimes our strength leads to destructive ends. To many, Ulfric's quest for power did not always seem fair or just. Do not allow your own power to become abusive or tyrannical. Know that strength will lead to destruction, have you not the understanding to use it justly.

A little better, but still, it feels like it's particularly focused on literal strength rather than the strength of character that the Strength card typically embodies. This is also another card of a character that is zoomed the hell in on their face, though I will admit that the little bear design is very cute. Still not good symbolism, though - there's no wrestling with the bear for it to embody our inner id and Ulfric to embody our superego, or however you choose to read the card. It's just...surface level. A surface-level understanding of a card based primarily on its name rather than its meaning.

You'll see a lot more of that as we get further into the deck, by the way. I have some things to say about the Death card...

[writeforfandoms]

Skating

This was meant to go up yesterday but I ended up being out all day and couldn't post this. Whoops.

My entry for day one of Black Ops Winter Fest hosted by the lovely @efingart for the prompt of winter sports!

In order to stick with my usual title = song title, this song is from A Charlie Brown Christmas. Cute song. Go listen to it.

Word count: 877

Sevati Dumas x f!reader

When you told Sevati to dress warmly for your outing today, she had looked less than impressed, but had gone along willingly enough. (You figured she'd owed you, after the incident with the restaurant last week.) 

But when you showed her the actual activity you had planned, she looked downright skeptical. 

“Are you certain about this?” She dangled one ice skate from one long finger, raising her eyebrow at you. 

“It's a very common thing for people to do in the winter,” you said with a shrug, as if you weren't mildly terrified of ice skating. “It'll be fine. We'll figure it out.” 

Sevati huffed softly but didn't disagree with you, simply allowing you to lead the way from the car to the pond. 

The pond, as it turned out, was absolutely gorgeous in the morning sun. Snow glimmered and glinted in the light, piled up around the icy surface of the pond. A few icicles hung from bare trees nearby, sparkling when the sunlight hit them just right. And the pond showed evidence of those who'd come before, the ice marred from previous skaters. Your breath puffed out in a soft cloud in front of your face, and you shrugged off the backpack you'd carried with you. Snow crunched as you set the backpack down. 

“See? Perfectly fine. I told you others have already been skating here.”  You shot a grin at Sevati, full of more confidence than you felt. 

“So I see.” Her lips quirked. “Well, then.” She sat on the edge of a large rock, pulling off one shoe and replacing it with a skate.

It didn't take long until the both of you stood at the edge of the pond, a little wobbly, both uncertain how to proceed. 

“You don't need to wait for me,” Sevati prompted you, shifting her weight. 

“Well.” You stopped there, embarrassed. “I actually haven't gone ice skating in years.” 

Sevati turned her head slowly to look at you in disbelief. “Years?” She repeated, voice pitching up in sheer incredulity. 

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Haven't had a chance recently.” 

She shook her head, reaching up to pull her cap a little lower over her ears. “This was your idea,” she reminded you, a little grumpy. 

“I know,” you admitted sheepishly. “Wasn't my best one.” You looked down, digging the toe of your skate into the snow. 

She sighed softly, and mitten-clad fingers closed around yours. “Together, then.” 

You looked up at her to check in, make sure she wasn't actually mad. But she had softened, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth, fingers secure around yours. You smiled, shoulders relaxing again. 

“Together,” you agreed quietly. 

Your first step onto the ice felt very wobbly, and Sevati kept you from falling over outright. You laughed a little at yourself, catching her indulgent smile in your periphery. 

And then she stepped onto the ice with you.

For a moment, the two of you wavered, clinging to each other, but held upright. You clutched her hand tighter, breathless in the moment, the cold and the beauty of her going straight to your heart.

One of you slipped. You couldn't say who with confidence. But both of you went down with little shrieks into a tangle of limbs. 

You burst out laughing at the disgruntled look on Sevati's face. She took revenge in the form of a handful of snow flung at your face. Somehow, the two of you ended up half-wrestling, half-playing on the ice, the activity and the closeness of her keeping you quite warm. 

You ended up under her, lips parted, gaze held in hers. She didn't need to hold you down to keep you there. This was, after all, one of your favorite places to be. 

“Did you have anything else in that bag of fun?” Sevati purred, leaning down closer to you. 

You smiled slowly, tipping your head to the side, feeling a little mischievous. “Well, I had heard that hot cocoa is kind of traditional,” you murmured. “I've got a thermos in my backpack.”

“My prepared little love.” Sevati's lips brushed your cheek, so close to what you really wanted. 

An engine grew closer, roaring to a halt and idling nearby. You and Sevati both made a face, and you couldn't help but giggle. 

“We will go back to my place,” Sevati murmured, already working on extricating herself from the tangle. “We'll get to your cocoa later.”

Desire flushed through you, hot and heady. But you held steady as you nodded, waiting for her to shuffle carefully away from you before you sat up. 

Getting up was not easy, and it wasn't pretty. But somehow, you both managed. By the time you did, another couple had sailed out onto the ice, graceful and completely in sync with each other. 

You snuck a glance at Sevati as she stealthily tucked a hand under your elbow, keeping you upright and more steady as you reached the edge of the ice. Snow crunched under your weight again. 

Maybe ice skating hadn't been the success you'd hoped it would be. Maybe the two of you wouldn't float across the ice together like the couple behind you. 

But you didn't need that to know you were perfectly in step with her anyway.