#that was fighting for their life on that post about people putting blue eyes on a pedestal

[taiyami]

I thank god every day for not giving me blue eyes. I don't think i could handle the pressure of being more special than everyone else in the whole world.

[latenightdaydreams]

König x First Meeting (fem)

MDNI🔞

I'm sorry for not posting as often as I usually do! There has been a lot of things going on in my personal life, but I promise to be back on my normal schedule soon! ILY all and thank you so much for everyone's patience and grace🩷 I hope you all have a great day/night!!

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, fluff, sexual thoughts

1.4k word count.

📻

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Over the last three years, you’ve always just been a soft voice on the other side of König’s radio. What was first professional talk only quickly turned into deep conversations and flirting. Every mission he can rely on you to always be there. You’ve been able to help him out of terrible situations, causing the bond to grow stronger. It helps that your voice is so feminine and soothing to him.

Even though you both have never met face to face, he’s developed deep feelings for you. Other than your first name, he knows nothing about you. Are you married? Do you like men? That doesn’t really matter; men like König aren’t built for relationships, so he’s never sought you out. Why ruin something good?

König has just returned from a successful mission, his team put together a small party at the local bar for him. He sat at the bar with Horangi as everyone else spread out across the bar. In the middle of the story Horangi was telling him, he hears your voice. His eyes widen as he looks around trying to find you. Then you speak again.

The light coming in from the windows behind you formed a halo of golden rays around your body, framing your stunning shape. It’s as if König was looking at an angel, a dream come true. He places a hand on Horangi’s shoulder as to excuse himself as his feet guide him to you.

“Y/n? Is that really you?” König asks as his eyes travel all over your body as he stops a few feet from you.

“König!” You respond in such a happy tone, your lips curving into the sweetest smile he’s ever seen. He is a massive man; in height and in muscle mass. While you can’t see his face, you can see his beautiful pale eyes.

“Y- you’re here. In the flesh.”

He is trying his best to be respectful, but finding it hard to take his eyes away from your body. To see you, the body, the face, to match your voice; he feels as if this just confirms that he’s in love with you. This is exactly what he was worried would happen if you two ever met.

“It’s nice to finally meet you face to face.” His eyes meet yours once more as he holds his hand out for you to shake.

The sweet familiar giggle leaves your lips as you brush past his hand and wrap your arms around him for a hug. “There’s no need to be so formal.” You tease, causing his cheeks to turn red underneath his mask.

König wraps his arms around you, returning the hug. You’re so much smaller than him that your head barely reaches his chest. He leans down slightly and takes a deep breath. You smell like a breezy spring day. Everything about you screams home to him, he came picture himself coming home every day and burying his head between your breasts and letting the stress of the day melt off.

When the hug ends, he can still feel his body tingle where you touched him. His icy blue eyes are stuck on you, trying to study every little part of you that he can. He notices your eyes travel over his body as well, giving him an ego boost.

“Congratulations on your work.” You say grabbing his gloved hand.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Süße.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he squeezes your hand slightly. There are so many words fighting to be said, but he doesn’t know where to begin. “Would you like to sit together and chat?”

“I would.”

Horangi turns in his seat to see König walking hand in hand with you. He raises his eyebrow and shrugs, getting up to join the crowd of people to give you both some time alone. You sit, sliding into one side of the booth and König ops to sit beside you verses across from you. He can’t take his eyes off of you or stop touching you. Three years of only knowing your voice. Three years of joking, flirting, and life saving advice.

“You’re a lot taller than I thought you’d be.” You say softly as you gaze down at his hand caressing your upper thigh through the fabric of your jeans. The sexual tension between the both of you is insane.

König chuckles at your comment while nodding his head. “I am. I’m a big man, kleine Taube.” Your thighs are so deliciously thick, he can only imagine what they would feel like underneath the fabric of your pants. His eyes drop to your cleavage before traveling back up to your eyes. “It’s crazy to finally put a face to the voice.”

“Hopefully a cute face.” You smirk and chuckle.

“A beautiful face. You’re so beautiful and small.” His face heats up at his words as his mind begins to wander about what it would be like to have you completely to himself.

“Well, thank you König. I can’t see your face but I imagine it’s just as attractive as your voice.”

He leans back in the booth and laughs, shaking his head in disagreement. “I have scars, Taube. Graying hair.” His eyes travel from your eyes to your soft pillowy kissable lips then back up.

“Maybe I’m into that.” You smirk.

It’s just like speaking to you have the radio, you’re just as flirty and confident in person and that’s very attractive to König. His hand on your thigh squeezes twice before he shifts his body to face you more. The hand moves from your thigh so he can remove his gloves, showing off his pale large hands. His fingers dance across your small palm before linking fingers with you. You place your free hand on his arms, caressing his muscular bicep. His pants grow tight on him as he feels his cock begin to harden.

Before anything else can be said, Horangi brings over two shots for the both of you. He has a sly smirk on his face as he passes one to you and then to König. “Celebration shot!” Horangi gleefully shouts.

You reach for yours and then look at König and wait for him to grab his. He does and watches you closely waiting to see what you will do. When you bring the small glass up to your lips and drink the harsh liquor with no reaction his cock twitches. What he wouldn’t give to see your lips wrap around him instead.

König looks at you and lifts up his mask, exposing his lips to you. You can see a scar coming from his cheek down past his lip to his chin. He takes the shot quickly, but before he can drop his mask you lean up and kiss him. Your lips fall on his cheek, but the corners of your lips touch and it drives him mad.

He looks down at you for a moment, not reacting while he attempts to gather his thoughts so he doesn’t just bend you over this table and fuck you in front of the whole bar. One of his hands comes up and caresses the side of your face as he leans in to kiss you again. His lips are soft and delicate at first. Slowly his lips move against yours in a more possessive and passionate heat.

Your lips feel just as soft as clouds, you smell and taste so sweet. His hand slips down your body, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. The kiss intensifies as he feels your lip’s part. He wastes no time; the tip of his tongue runs across your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth.

A small hum rumbles from his chest as he moves his hand up and down your back, moving to your side to explore your curves. You feel so perfect in his hands. You taste so good on his tongue. There is no one else. You are the one.

König pulls back from the kiss; his eyes look down into yours. All he wants to do is ravish your body and get to know every inch of you, but he knows he should take you out first. You’re more than just a hookup, he can build a future with you. He thinks for a moment, letting his eyes trail down your body once more before speaking. “Would you like to go on a date?”

“I would love to.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What time?”

“I’m free all day, Süße. You can take as much of it as you want.” You could take the air from his lungs and he’d die a happy man.

“I want it all.”

König smirks at your response. His hand lingers on your upper thigh once more, letting his fingers rest on your inner thigh. “You can have it all. Anything for my Taube.”

[justrustandstardust]

it's established that gojo's blindfold is a hallmark of his character. it's understood that the blindfold keeps things out; however, i also think there's something to be said about how it also keeps things in. despite the fact that there's already a lot of discourse regarding his blindfold, i think there's more to it than meets the eye (or doesn't, in the case of gojo).

this is going to be somewhat of a long post, but i promise that if you stick around, the end will make the journey worth it.

(this analysis is the lovechild of mine and @chiarrara, whose sexy big brain sponsored this whole thing).

as a character, gojo is unknowable without his eyes. it's very much proposed that gojo is his eyes; he's even repeatedly referred to as "the six-eyes brat". he's the strongest, and his eyes embody that status/symbol/role in the narrative. his eyes and his character are so intertwined that they almost become the same thing.

we are repeatedly reminded of his eyes throughout the story; they are perhaps his most distinct and identifiable feature. when we're shown the progression of gojo's life from birth to adolescence, we only see his eyes.

during this scene when toji is remebering him, he repeatedly refers to him as the "six-eyes brat". he is his eyes, and nothing else. that's the only thing that toji knows about him because to the jujutsu world, that's all he is.

however, when he's a teenager, although his eyes are more present than we've ever seen them throughout the series, they're noticeably un-glorified. they're undeniably present but they're unremarkable.

they're less symbols of his power and more what they are, which are just eyes. we see glimpses of his eyes so often that we almost forget that they're special, until he steps into his role as the strongest and reminds us of them.

it's important to note that what sets the depiction of his eyes apart here (versus when he's an adult) is the presence of geto. if you comb through every single scene with geto in hidden inventory, you will find that gojo's eyes are not the focal point of his character. they're backgrounded features; his eyes are either half-hidden or entirely obscured by his shades, and they rarely glow.

his eyes make themselves known when geto is absent, like during gojo's fight with toji. in these moments, he is the strongest, invariably leaving room for nothing else. the only exception to this rule is when he's carrying riko's body, in which his eyes glow when he toes the line between human nature and godlike power. if we understand his eyes to be conduits of his power, then their noticeable downplaying can be understood as gojo leaving behind his title as the strongest and stepping into his humanity.

when geto breaks up with gojo, his eyes are not only uncovered, they're un-emphasized. they're perhaps the dullest we've ever seen them, and their distinct, eye-catching blue is swallowed by the whites surrounding his irises. his strength and power don't matter in this moment, and his eyes reflect that. when he's losing geto, he is not the strongest; he is purely gojo satoru.

the emphasis on his eyes in his youth makes their absence in his adulthood even more stark. we rarely see his eyes now, and it's only in the direst of circumstances.

everyone is familiar with the dictum '"the eyes are the window to the soul", which is true: eyes let people see into us. however, they function both ways; like a two-way mirror, they also let us see the world. eyes let people look in, but they also let their beholder look out.

there's a reason gojo only put on the blindfold after geto left. why didn't he wear it from the start? why did he start wearing it at all? all the credit to @hijinks-n-lowjinks for their masterful analysis that inspired this idea, which is as follows:

"....Gojo wants nothing more than to leave the memory of Geto unscathed....There's still a part of Geto's memory that's untarnished if he keeps it private instead of exposing the depth of Geto's crimes to the students, and I think that's what he's clinging onto."

gojo wears the blindfold for two reasons: one, to keep people out, and two, to keep geto in.

in donning the blindfold, gojo seals geto in his mind and simultaneously seals himself off from the world. he holds geto inside of himself, rendering him (or gojo's construction of him) untouchable by anyone else. in order to achieve this, however, the practice necessitates that gojo keeps everyone else out, because they belong to a world without geto that gojo literally and figuratively refuses to see. the wall functions like eyes: twofold, both keeping in and keeping out.

geto can be understood as gojo's blindfold: he is the reason it exists and why gojo put it on the first place. the blindfold is an intractable element in how he (doesn't) navigate the world without geto, because geto's departure from his life catalyzed his withdrawal from the world, which is symbolized through the blindfold.

when geto was in his life, gojo let the world in because it had geto in it. after geto left, he wasn't there for gojo's eyes to find. the permanent blindfold operates like schrödinger's cat— instead of seeing a world without geto, gojo simply chooses to stop seeing.

it's worth noting that the literal barrier pairs with the figurative barrier gojo puts up, which is in his disposition.

there's a reason that gojo's cocky, lighthearted persona comes out when he's wearing the blindfold. it's a figurative barrier that matches the literal one. like i said before, we only see his eyes in the direst of circumstances, and his goofy, cocksure demeanour is notably absent from these instances. i'm not saying it's fake, but the persona is a front, designed to keep people at a distance. he plays it up, and it feels even more distant because we can't see his eyes.

however, gojo isn't the only person with a barrier.

after the breakup, we never see geto wear casual clothes. we always see him in his cult leader outfit, which is distinct and elaborate. geto knows it's a costume, evidenced by the way he even says it himself when someone asks why he's wearing the cult getup:

we also see a notable shift in his persona, to a crazed and almost manic disposition that contrasts starkly with the gentle, kind nature he had in his youth. geto's literal barrier is found in his cult outfit, whereas his figurative one is in his disposition. although they present differently, gojo and geto's literal and figurative barriers mechanize the same modes of expression that seem to be at odds with one another.

gojo’s disposition is designed to counteract the loneliness that shapes his character (a loneliness that geto abetted in being his companion) and geto’s disposition is designed to push people away, because he decided no one could understand him (a role which was previously fulfilled by gojo).

gojo can read geto in a way that no one else can, and geto is gojo's counterpart in a way that no one else can be— they’re missing something only the other can provide and compensating with two dispositions at opposite ends of the emotional spectrum.

when geto is dying, gojo drops the literal and figurative mask. he's almost unrecognizable; he's not laughing, he's not smiling, and he's not wearing the blindfold, because he doesn't need it anymore. the only person he wants to see, the only person he's ever wanted to see, is in front of him now.

however, once again, he's not only one whose walls have come down.

geto drops the manic persona (although he retains the ideals) and he gently smiles in a way that's reminiscent of his youth. his cult leader outfit is also falling off, exposing him in more ways than one. he admits that he never had any hate for anyone at jujutsu tech, and in doing so, materializes the version of himself that lived in gojo's mind for a decade. that's why gojo doesn't bother with the blindfold; the geto in his mind and the geto in front of him are congruous and he's looking at the person he's been seeing inside his head all along.

it's been established that we don't know what gojo says to geto. however, it is also absolutely key that we don't see gojo's eyes in this deeply intimate moment. his eyes, which are inextricably linked to his strength and his role. his eyes, which are the medium through which he limits his engagement with the world. his eyes, which he sealed after geto left and only brings out when he's tasked with fulfilling his role.

in this moment, he considers the question geto asked him during the breakup. "are you gojo satoru because you're the strongest? or are you the strongest because you're gojo satoru?"

and in shielding his eyes from us, gojo answers him.

"i'm gojo satoru because of you, suguru."

his eyes, as the windows to the soul and witnesses to the world, are looking at geto suguru not as the strongest but as gojo satoru, and they are meant for geto alone. yes, the eyes are the windows to the soul but they're also two-way mirror— gojo opens his eyes for geto to look into his soul because the material manifestation of his soul is dying in front of him right now. in baring his eyes, he bares his soul.

before geto dies, we see him the same way gojo does. he seems bashful, almost shy, even mirthful; all traits that are antithetical to the crazed front he put up earlier. conversely, gojo is the most solemn we've ever seen him. in this moment, we see them both for who they really are, because they literally and figuratively only reveal themselves to each other.

after they part ways in shinjuku, geto and gojo embody the same barriers through identical mechanisms: fabric and persona. these barriers function to do the same thing, which is to keep people at a distance in order to leave space for the one person noticeably absent from their lives. it's very fitting that their walls come down as they meet for the last time, because the only people who could've torn them down are the same people for whom they put them up in the first place— nobody else but each other.

[stromblessed]

Mizu's spectacles, and the levels of her disguise

In drafting some more Blue Eye Samurai meta posts, I find myself writing out the comparisons between what Mizu can and cannot hide about herself, and how that affects how she moves through the world.

Like, I get the jokes about Mizu's glasses, if only color contacts had existed back then, etc. etc., and I think (hope) that most viewers don't take the glasses jokes seriously, as in "I don't care about the suspension of disbelief because BES is a cartoon." But I wanted to write these thoughts out anyway without burying them in a text post about something else.

I think the points I'm going to lay out here are viewed very differently by different people, so please feel free to add to this post, reply, or put your thoughts in the tags!

Not only do Mizu's glasses not actually help her that much, there's surely more to Mizu's mixed race appearance than just the color of her eyes.

In my view, this was pointed out in episode 1:

I'm willing to bet most of us were expecting young Taigen to say "blue eyes," not "ROUND eyes."

Obviously this is still about Mizu's eyes, but not even spectacles can hide their shape.

I don't think the show is obligated to point out everything about Mizu's face that isn't quite as Japanese as the people around her expect. Though the creators have said that they specifically designed Mizu - and her clothes - to read both as "white" and as "Japanese," as well as both male and female. I think there's more about Mizu's features that read as "white" than just her eyes.

This is where my own headcanons start entering the picture, but it's my impression that people can just tell that Mizu looks different, whether or not they can put a finger on exactly how.

There's the little girl who looks at Mizu and then hides on the way into Kyoto:

When there's more to your face you'd like to cover up than just your eyes, big hats are a big help!

By the way, most of these examples have to come from the first half of the season, since by the second half, either Mizu is too preoccupied with fighting henchmen, or everyone Mizu is facing knows who she is already, and she therefore has no reason to hide her mixed race identity.

It's worth mentioning that the mere fact that Mizu has to hide multiple aspects of her identity - her mixed race and her sex - results in her having to choose clothes that really, really cover her up, which doesn't win her any favors either:

(Zatoichi reference, anyone?)

If it were as easy as, for example, tying her glasses to her head and wa-lah, nobody would ever know she was half-white - then (1) Mizu would've just done that long ago, and (2) Mizu wouldn't be so on guard and on tenterhooks 100% of the time the way she's depicted in the show, even when her glasses are on.

Her spectacles sure don't help her in the brothel, which is full of observant women who are trying to seduce her, meaning they get good long looks at her:

Mizu never takes her glasses off, but they still send a woman to her who has light eyes, thinking that must be what will interest a blue-eyed man:

No wonder Mizu gets mad after this, lol

So Mizu never takes her spectacles off in the brothel, it's dimly lit inside, and the women can still tell that she has blue eyes. I'm getting the sense that Mizu putting on her spectacles isn't a guarantee that people suddenly can't tell that she looks different.

And yet no one spots that she's female.

Mizu can hide her breasts, can wear her hair in the right style, can hide what's between her legs, can walk and talk and behave like a man - and she's been doing it for almost her entire life, to the point that not only is she very good at it, but the threat of being found out as female is deadly, but isn't presented in the show as omnipresent.

Let me explain.

She threatens Ringo for nearly saying the word "girl" out loud, because while she's constantly ostracized for being mixed race, being a woman traveling without a chaperone, carrying a sword, and disguised as a man will get her killed or flogged or arrested or some combination of these things.

But in addition, it's been drilled into her since she was a child that if she is discovered as female, the combination of her being mixed race and female will identify her as someone extremely specific, someone known to some bad people, and she will be killed:

I think of it as Mizu thinking to herself, "Being found out as mixed race means I'm treated badly. Being found out as mixed race and a woman means I'm dead."

Mizu's hair is cut as a child. But she isn't made to wear a big hat, or cover her eyes somehow, or anything like that. Because hiding her sex is a more successful endeavor than hiding her race.

Ringo finds out she's female by accident, but once Mizu accepts the fact that he won't rat her out, she relaxes pretty early on in the season. Because the threat of being found out as female is mitigated pretty much 99.9%, since Mizu has gotten so good at being a man. And also, because most of the time, people see what they want to see. Even if Mizu's face makes her stand out as "not 100% Japanese," no one in the world of BES looks at Mizu's clothes, her bearing, her sword, hears her voice, and will ever in a million years conclude that she is a woman, because expectations around gender roles in the Edo period were so rigid and so widely enforced.

One detail that proved this to me is after the Four Fangs fight:

Ringo takes off Mizu's clothes so he can stitch her up, then leaves her clothes off even after he's done. He doesn't even throw her cloak over her as a blanket or anything. There's a little a straw (pallet?) as a divider there on the left, but anyone could just peek around it and see Mizu and her chest bindings. (I think it's mostly there as a windbreaker.)

And Taigen is right there, but he doesn't give a shit:

Opinions probably vary hugely on this, but my impression is that because the show doesn't make any kind of deal about Taigen being in the room with Mizu here, my guess is that Mizu isn't in any danger of Taigen thinking she's female. Even when I watched the show for the first time, I assumed that Taigen had seen Mizu out of her clothes here, and that he thought nothing of it.

Eat your heart out, Li Shang (Mulan 1998). I actually do think that this scene is a direct and purposeful side-eye to that movie, lol

There's obviously some nuance to how "severe" being mixed race is compared to how "severe" being a woman is for Mizu:

After all, Swordfather can't bear to listen to Mizu confess to being a woman.

So a Japanese man can go wherever he wants, whenever he wants in BES. A Japanese woman has limited options: marriage, religion, or a brothel. A mixed-race man is an eyesore in this story. A mixed-race woman is a death sentence.

May as well eliminate the female aspect, and do what you can about the mixed-race aspect. Because that's just realistic.

Meaning Mizu can avoid the strictures Edo society places on women. But she can't avoid the repercussions that come with being mixed race. And I truly don't think that it's just because "there's no brown contacts yet."

[deadlymistletoe]

Fears and Bandages

Pairing: Thranduil x F!reader

Request: @frustrated-kitten asked: I thought maybe I could request a Thranduil x FemReader where she returns with several injuries after fighting a bunch of spiders with Legolas and some other elves? Some small wounds, some more serious, but in the end she survives and everything goes well?

A/N: I hope it’s what you wanted - I was going to make it more angsty but this is what came out and it stuck.

Genre: slight hurt/comfort

Description: Thranduil’s composure cracks as he waits for you to come home from battling the spiders. He’s only able to put his fears to rest once he’s bandaged you up himself.

Warnings: Mentions of blood/injuries. Stitches.

Word count: 1582

Thranduil’s foot tapped against the ground, fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest of his throne. Besides the two guards posted at the entrance to the room, the rest of his subjects were steering clear of him.

He didn’t blame them for avoiding him while he was like this - after all, had it been someone else fidgeting he would have been annoyed himself.

It was rare for the composed elvenking to fidget as he was, to betray any hint of apprehension, but today was the exception.

It was well known that there were two people on this earth that Thranduil would do absolutely anything to keep safe, and it just so happened that both of them had gone headfirst into a dangerous situation.

The first, his only son, Legolas. Since the elf had first looked up at him from his mother’s with those wide blue eyes Thranduil had known that he would do anything for him.

After his wife had died that feeling had only strengthened, as the meaning in his life centered around the elfling who was quickly becoming one of the realm's best archers.

For a long time, nothing had changed, until he met the second person he would come to care about more than he would have thought possible. You.

Thranduil had never even considered that he might love again after his wife passed, but then you’d come into his life and he’d found himself falling faster than should have. And he just knew that he couldn’t lose you too. History couldn’t repeat itself. He wouldn’t let it.

Of course, that was easier said than done since you, much like Legolas, continuously risked your safety to fight the spiders that continued to invade the Greenwood.

Thankfully for him, you’d stepped back from the danger once the two of you fell in love and you took to the role of Thranduil’s consort - soon-to-be-queen, but the latest nest was bigger than usual and the spiders began to get more bold so you’d insisted on joining Legolas for the raid.

So now Thranduil sat, fidgeting like an impatient elfling, waiting for news. 

He felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time - helpless.

Yes, Legolas had promised to make sure you both came back in one piece, but Legolas was also known for saying he was ‘fine’ when he had a gaping wound - Valar forbid he find out what his son’s definition of ‘one piece’ was.

Thranduil let out a frustrated sigh. He knew better than to doubt the abilities of you and his son, but sometimes he just couldn’t help but worry. After all, the last time his son had left the palace with a mother-figure, only one of them had come back - granted, that was when Legolas was a child with none of the skills he had now. But still.

He immediately straightened up, movements freezing when Galion ran up the steps leading into the room. “They’re back, my lord.”

Thranduil wasted no time making his way down the steps, Galion rushing to keep up with him as they made their way to the front gates. “Is everyone okay?” Are they okay?

“Everyone’s alive.” Those words were less reassuring than they should be. The mirkwood elves had a habit of using the term ‘alive’ rather loosely.

When he reached the entrance, those gathered around instantly parted for him to make his way towards the glimpse of pale hair he’d noticed through the crowd.

None of the patrol had been completely spared, that was certain, as scratches adorned each of their complexions, the darker blood of the spiders splattered over their uniforms.

Healers had already dispersed amongst the warriors, vials of antidote in hand just in case, and he was relieved to see that Legolas had no obvious signs of injury as he drew closer.

Legolas saw him coming and turned to meet him, voice low as he spoke. “There were more than we expected. We weren’t prepared, a second lot ambushed us after the fight had already started.”

Thranduil placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze - a show of affection that still kept a semblance of formality. “You did well.”

He hesitated, not wanting to brush his son off but at the same time needing to see you. Legolas saved him from asking, nodding towards where a healer was bent over a figure on a bench. You, he realized.

“She’s okay.” Legolas murmured. “Just a bit more cut up than the rest of us.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’ve been on guard to make sure she didn’t injure herself more running off to find you before the healers got to her.”

Thranduil’s lips twitched, holding back a smile as he made his way towards you, Legolas following behind.

It didn’t take long for you to look up at the familiar footsteps, a smile spreading across your lips despite the sting as the healer cleaned up a deep wound across your shoulder.

When the healer took her hands from you to rummage through her supplies you immediately took the chance to push yourself to your feet, moving around her and meeting Thranduil half way, his arms naturally finding their way around your waist as you stumbled slightly.

He smirked slightly looking over your shoulder. “I do believe Lothael is about to scold you for using her distraction to your advantage.”

Your healer, Lothael, had followed you, rolling her eyes. She gave Thranduil a wry look. “Yes, well, I can’t imagine that the king wants his queen-to-be to bleed out on the floor.”

Thranduil’s eyes quickly ran over your wounds, double-checking that you weren’t in imminent danger of bleeding out, and lingering on the deeper ones before looking back at Lothael. “I can take it from here, thank you.”

He knew that technically the healer had more better skills than him in the art, but at the same time, he also knew that the only way to completely reassure himself that you weren’t about to bleed out was if he did it himself - he needed to know that he’d checked and taken care of your wounds with his own hands.

It was only when the two of you had left the view of the other elves, leaving Legolas in charge, that you let yourself lean against the wall with a groan, the pain that had been throbbing in your leg since the adrenaline had worn off on the walk home forcing you to give it a break.

Thranduil, whose hand had been resting on your back, ready to steady you at any moment should you need it, gave you a worried look as you pulled away from him to use the wall as support.

“I’ll be fine,” You muttered, grimacing. “It’s just demanding a rest.”

Thranduil gave you a calculated look, and before you could say anything or even begin to wonder what he was thinking, he swept you off your feet, your arms automatically going around his neck as he carried you bridal-style down the hall.

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, a smile crossing his own face at the sound. “What are you doing?”

He glanced down at you, a small smile dancing across his lips. “Why, I’m carrying to your chamber’s, my lady. Valar knows you’d collapse halfway there if I didn’t.”

You laughed before quieting down and leaning your head against his chest. “I’m tired, Thranduil.” You murmured, the toll today had taken on your body catching up to you.

He looked at you with a soft look reserved only for you. “I know, Meleth. You can rest soon.”

You sighed, staying silent as he reached your shared chambers and laid you on the bed, letting you sink into the silks and furs that covered the mattress.

You had started to drift off when you suddenly felt something cold seep into one of the deeper wounds, pressure keeping it there. You jerked away from the cold sting, but a hand held you in place, and you felt Thranduil’s silky hair brush against your skin as he lent over you to brush his lips against your forehead.

“I’m just cleaning them.” He murmured. “Relax.”

You let out a shuddering breath as he moved the cloth, a few tears slipping down the side of your face as he continued on to stitch the wound closed.

Your strong facade you’d kept up in the entrance and on the journey home hope had dissipated, as had your energy now that you were with the one you didn’t have to act strong for.

Thranduil whispered apologies and reassurances as he cleaned and bandaged the rest of your wounds with a gentleness that could only come from a lover’s hands, occasionally wiping the tears from your face and running his fingers through your hair at a particularly harsh sting.

It felt like hours later when the last wound was taken care of and you heard the quiet clink as Thranduil set the glass bottle of ointment aside.

He remained seated at your size, gentle fingers brushing over your face and hair as he gazed down at you, his own fears put aside now that he’d tended to you.

You held his gaze, relishing the cool touches until you felt your eyes begin to droop, and the last thing you were aware of was the feather-light lips that brushed against yours and the whispered, “Sleep, Meleth.” as you drifted off, Thranduil’s fingers soothingly carding through your hair.

Everything Taglist:

@fizzyxcustard @bookworm-with-coffee

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[lazycats-stuff]

hi I love your posts and I wanted to ask if you could do batfamily x newest batbro who was created to be a weapon and when bruce saves him and makes him have a childhood he couldn't make choices like the demon slayer kanao please

Hi! I'm glad you like my posts. I would like to state that I have never watched Demon Slayer, but I went on Demon Slayer wiki to get some info, so if there are some incorrect details, my apologies.

Summary: (Y/N) never had a choice. Bruce decides to change that.

Warnings: pure abuse, (Y/N) is a weapon for his father, Bruce and the boys are giving (Y/N) a new childhood, (Y/N) is slowly getting accustomed to his new life, (Y/N) trying new things...

In life, you often don't have a choice where you end up and who your parents are. You often don't have a choice. (Y/N) didn't have a choice. A life full of violence and overall dear and submission. Even the slightest sound of fear or pain could get you in trouble.

He has been training with the others ever since he could remember. As far as he knew, he was in a program that created weapons. Human weapons to be more precise. The program's enemy?

The Justice League.

He is the only survivor of the program's regime and training. There were kids with him too, but they were just weak. (Y/N) remembered one morning where they were all blue and just cold to the touch. (Y/N) had no reaction to it.

Why would he?

And reaction will get him beaten and maybe drowned as a form of punishment. Well, not a maybe, it's a sure for drowning. (Y/N) often thought to himself that they had a list full of punishments. He wouldn't be surprised.

He rarely got punished, because he has learnt what will happen when he decided to fight back. He shuddered every time he has remembered the punishment he got the first time he tried to fight back.

It's better if he doesn't remember.

That punishment broke him. Whatever he was before that punishment, he wasn't anymore. He became a shell of himself, allowing them to break him in and build him back up again, just like they all wanted.

Who was behind the project, he didn't know. But did it matter anyway? He is going to stay in the program for the rest of his life or rather until he is alive.

There was time when he thought he was going to die. Oddly enough, he didn't hope to die that day. (Y/N) never thought about killing himself.

They broke his spirit and soul and yet again put him back together.

Now that was something that only truly bad people can do. (Y/N) accepted it. He couldn't do anything else, could he? If he escaped they would have tracked him down and he would be dead for sure. (Y/N) accepted his fate, not knowing that the Justice League caught wind of this program and were ready to just take them all down.

On a mission gone wrong (Y/N) was caught by Batman and for the first time ever, (Y/N) became afraid. He didn't show any type fear, but deep down he wanted to hide.

He heard stories about Batman and how he works. Not to mention his kids... Especially Robin. (Y/N) knew who Ra's al Ghul was and how ruthless his assassins are. Robin is no different.

(Y/N) remembers waking up in a cell, a warm blanket over him. He doesn't remember having a blanket back in the program. A sheet would be pure mercy and some sort of heating?

A pure miracle.

(Y/N) remembers sitting up, confused as to why his enemies are treating him better than his own handlers. But that could be a ploy to get him to talk. Instead of torturing, he would get treated nicely.

Not happening.

(Y/N) rubbed his eyes as he stood up, moving closer to the glass panels. Well, they seemed like glass, but they are strong. (Y/N) looked for a way out, but had none.

(Y/N) sighed quietly as he sat back down. Oh this is just great. There is no way out and he is going to get tortured. He closed his eyes as he mentally prepared himself.

He opened them when he heard somebody coming. It was Batman himself, standing in all of his glory.

" I'm not going to talk. " (Y/N) declared and Batman simply took a chair and sat down.

" You don't have to (Y/N). I have all the information that I need my other heroes are going after the person running it. In a few hours the program will be gone and forgotten in history. " Batman declared and (Y/N) was shocked to say the least.

" What? " (Y/N) asked as he couldn't contain his surprise.

" Yes. Soon enough no one will remember the program. After knowing what they do to children, I am more than satisfied. Now there is a question as to what to do with you. " Batman said and (Y/N)'s interest got peaked.

What is that supposed to mean?

" You won't be able to function if you are let in the real life. Now, the other course of action is for you to live with someone. I have decided to take you in. " Batman said and (Y/N) was shocked.

" No. " (Y/N) said quickly. Not happening.

" Yes. You will have to stay here for a few more days until a few things are clarified and set. " Batman said as he stood up. (Y/N) watched him leave.

Oh God.

(Y/N) had to sit back down. He really did. The program will be dead in just a few hours...

Is this what freedom tastes and feels like?

And to stay with Batman, one of the people who made the League, his enemy... (Y/N) shook his head as he laid down. This few minutes are a rollercoaster of emotions and it's just something that (Y/N) didn't feel in a very long time.

(Y/N) is usually a few steps ahead of his targets and there was nothing that could surprise him. But now? He wasn't in control anymore, not that he was anyway, but when he was in the field, he had a certain degree of control.

Now he was stripped from any type of control and any sense of comfort was gone. Having control, a little degree, was comforting enough to (Y/N).

But now, everything was gone. The life he knew was gone.

(Y/N) came to live in the manor a few days later, the boys knowing exactly who he was and what has happened with him. Bruce told them to be nice and tone down everything until he got comfortable. Alfred agreed, knowing that (Y/N) had to be afraid of the change.

Now, Bruce and Alfred had agreed on one thing. And that was something called a choice. Alfred and Bruce gave him his first choice when he was allowed to choose his room. (Y/N) was confused as to how he could choose.

It's just a room, why would it matter? Although, (Y/N) did choose in the end a view with the front of the house. The reason was of strategic reasons, (Y/N) has said and Bruce and Alfred are just fine with that.

It's a step in the right direction.

Jason came by a little bit later, helping him choose some of Jason's old clothing. That was a temporary solution. When (Y/N) slowly got accustomed to the new life, they would go to buy some more clothes.

(Y/N) was slowly slow in picking, but Jason didn't mind. He waited patiently, even offering some of his own advice. Which color is good for his eyes, what would be comfortable to wear around the house... Everything he could think off.

(Y/N) was still suspicious and didn't trust anyone in the house. He didn't like how everyone was pretending to be nice to him. Just be pissed at him and what not. That would make (Y/N) feel better.

Not this.

Dick often asked him if he wanted to learn something about gymnastics, showing him what he could do. (Y/N) was impressed, but has said that those just your average moves in gymnastics. For the record, those weren't any type of average moves. Those were just some of the most awesome moves that (Y/N) has ever seen.

Of course, (Y/N) would never admit it, but still. He can think to himself that is cool. Since that he wasn't really trained in gymnastics, he wanted to do it. It looked like flying and like a test of strength.

Tim was just there helping him with TV shows. Every now and them, he would just take a break from working on cases and working overall and that was broken by watching different TV shows or cartoons, depending on what he finds. That break thing was put there by Bruce and Alfred enforced it.

You don't want to piss Alfred off.

(Y/N) found himself in the living room by accident and was interested by the fact that Tim was watching cartoons. Tim invited him and (Y/N) sat down on the far end of the couch. Tim started the original Snow White from the beginning and and (Y/N) was in love with the cartoons.

Of course he told Tim it was stupid and a waste of time. Tim didn't say anything, instead quietly gathered them on an USB when they were done and when Tim was in his room, simply leaving the USB in (Y/N)'s room subtly.

(Y/N) and Tim never spoke of it again.

Damian has started showing (Y/N) his favorite books, saying that he is the only one who is intelligent in this household. Of course, Alfred is an exemption to that rule. (Y/N) had to unwillingly admit that he didn't read any books when he was growing up.

Damian already knew the answer, but didn't push it or show the signs of knowing. He just got a stack from the library and showed him a couch where he could lay and read. (Y/N) took the books and started reading it.

It has become a nightly thing for both of them, just reading in silence, normally drinking something during it. The two don't really speak about it, they just hang out and that is just about it. It brought them together silently.

Alfred was teaching him how to cook. He started with some simple recipes and slowly moved on to more complex recipes. Alfred saw that he was a fast learner and the two were often found together cooking and just experimenting in the kitchen.

And Bruce?

He helped him with just socializing outside of the house. It has started with just other superheroes and it soon turned into full on sessions to speak. (Y/N) was slowly getting more comfortable and Black Canary was helping him out with therapy. He was against it at first, but has decided to confront his demons.

Slowly but surely, he is getting more and more comfortable and slowly started discovering his personality. Black Canary has even given a green light for (Y/N) to go to school with his peers and Bruce was all for it too. (Y/N) was nervous with the sheer suggestion and they understood.

After a few days of just thinking about it, (Y/N) has decided to go to school. It was a breath of fresh air for him, but slightly overwhelming. His eyes, trained to over analyze everything that could be a possible threat, were analyzing everything and everyone. He met a few people and Bruce was happy to hear it.

Bruce has hoped that one day he would get friends, but hey, one step at the time. Soon, (Y/N) was comfortable with physical affection such as hugs. He liked to receive hugs, especially from Bruce. Although, he is still shy about saying it outright.

Bruce didn't mind, he could see it when he wanted it and just gave him a hug. He always asked him beforehand of course. (Y/N) always had a choice and Bruce would always make sure he knew that. Always.

Soon, (Y/N) became a new vigilante, under a new name, under a new symbol. Bruce was more than proud of his son. Yes, his son. He officially adopted him and waited until his birthday to show him the adoption papers. (Y/N) cried that time in front of everyone. It was from pure happiness of course and he hugged his father, brothers and grandfather by default.

Of course, (Y/N) raised the question of how to call him. Dad? Bruce? Or just plain B?

Bruce said that everything is fine. He didn't expect that he would get called dad. Everyone shared a group hug, showing that (Y/N) he finally has a family that he could rely on. It was an emotional moment for everyone, especially for (Y/N).

After it was said and done, the cheesecake was shared amongst everyone and the celebration went well into the night. Considering that they had no neighbors so there was no complaints on that part. (Y/N) was finally happy in his life.

He finally had choices. People he could rely on. A place he could call home. But more importantly, he is happy. For the first time ever.

[losyash]

SHIMON ARC: Hibari to Tsuna

Recently I've been liveblogging my Shimon arc reread to my friends.

On chapter 323 one of them said they always wondered if the headband being there meant something. And yes, curtains might be blue because it's a nice color. But no. No, curtains being blue is incredibly goddamn important.

HEAR ME OUT

First, to recap what is happening: Shimon arc, pre Adelheid vs Hibari battle they briefly argue about Tsuna and Enma and decide on their pride and the rules of the battle: to seize each other's handband. Adelheid creates an ice prison that is impossible to penetrate from outside and 500 ice clones to fight Hibari. He fights them all, tells Adelheid she is wrong about Enma and small animals (which i will talk about later) and uses minirolls to crush the ice fort from the inside. After this he gets her handband, they talk about Tsuna again and Hibari drops his "it is because of the sky the cloud can float freely" thing.

Before I delve into it, however, I feel like I should take a quick dive in Tsuna-Hibari relationship from Hibari's perspective.

To put it simply, at first Hibari does not give a single fuck about Tsuna personally. Even after this glorious scene happens

All Hibari thinks about that day is that he wants to meet Reborn again. During the course of Daily life arc however Hibari messes with him plenty. Ny the time 43rd chapter (sakura viewing) rolls around, Hibari's opinion on Tsuna is summarized by this:

And this is actually the key. Hibari does not understand Tsuna. To him Tsuna is some weird ass alien creature who does not fit his rigid worldview. At first Hibari tries to make him make sense again by asserting himself over Tsuna and putting him back to the role of herbivore which he does follow every time except when he doesn't?? For some reason?????

Kokuyo arc is the arc that changed the manga tone in general but it's also the arc that changed Hibari himself. He is brutally shown that he as he is does not have the power to do whatever he wants. Something has to change. And Hibari seeks that change in Tsuna, who somehow managed to defeat Mukuro when Hibari himself failed.

chapter 123, cloud battle aftermath

He stops trying to still Tsuna. Instead he wants now to understand what the fuck is up about him and what can he do. The answer is Tsuna can burn a man alive in a fit of rage btw.

BUT THE THING IS. THE THING IS EVENTUALLY HE DOES UNDERSTAND TSUNA. AND THIS LEADS US TO TAKE A LIL BREAK FOR THE PRIDE TALK

Now, the obvious thing: headband symbolizes Hibari's pride.

Here is what he says, when first asked about it:

But also Hibari vs Adelheid battle is the one that finally clears up what the hell does "pride" mean.

The thing is. What Hibari is saying (and what he tried to make Tsuna understand, because the whole battle here his two goals are to win (duh) and to help Tsuna find his conviction again) is that the actual meaning of "What is your pride?" is "What makes you yourself?". You, as a person, should be proud of who you are. And he tells Tsuna, that it is whatever he cannot give up, whatever makes the very core of Tsuna's self is what he should fight for (And then Tsuna tells Enma "You are my pride" which is very juicy but deserves its own post).

Okay, now with this out of the way, let's get to the next thing:

Hibari vs Adelheid (but not the violent edition)

Hibari and Adelheid are not only fighting, they are also talking to each other. And by talking I mean arguing. About Tsuna and Enma and little animals.

Here is important thing to note first: asking around some people who know some people who know japanese gave me information that actually "small animal" is. Not different from herbivore at all. They are apparently used intechangingly based on how much space speechbubble has.

This does affect things: when it is usually thought that Tsuna in Hibari's eyes carves a new category for himself, not worth calling by name nor insulting nickname, nor he can be classified as a simple herbivore, he is just his own thing. Instead it seems like Tsuna changed Hibari's opinion on entire population of herbivores-small animals. (and if those people just got me confused ill die of shame (;-;)b)

ANYWAY, THEIR DEBATE

yes i had to put it all here. it's good. read it.

Do you see it guys? Do you see how far he came from daily life? He now really does understand Tsuna. He cracked the code. And he does now acknowledge that yeah Tsuna (and by extention other ppl like him. Like Enma) has his own way to live life and it does work for him. Tsuna is not weak. Being a herbivore does not automatically mean being weak.

Another interesting thing here is this:

"Why is a man like you with the likes of Sawada Tsunayoshi?"

"I'm not with him"

And I think it's important to remember here that Adelheid does see Tsuna=Vongola boss thing. To Tsuna it's Him and His Friends against Enma and His Friends. To her? It's Vongola vs Shimon

And when she talks to Hibari about Tsuna, she is saying "Why are you with Sawada Tsunayoshi?" but what she means is "Why are you with Vongola?" and this difference does impact Hibari's answer. Case in point:

I DON'T LIKE THE WAY YOU SAID THAT... WELL... TRUE ENOUGH.

BUT WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE CLOUD GUARDIAN OF THE VONGOLA'S SKY? ACCORDING TO WIKI, THIS:

A drifting Cloud, whom cannot be bound. Protecting the famiglia from an independent standpoint.

AND SO

I am sorry, I am very normal about this, promise.

And so Hibari basically admits that he will not be bound to Tsuna, but he will be around, involving himself when he feels like it. They're friends your honor.

BUT THERE IS MORE.

The attribute of the cloud flames is propagation. Why is it relevant?

this is the hype up text at the end of chapter 322.

and this is the last page of chapter 323.

Remember i briefly mentioned Hibari stagnating in daily life arc and realizing that there must be something more during Kokuyo arc? He found it. Tsuna is the one who gave him this opportunity. Just being around Tsuna allowed Hibari to grow. To propaga- Okay, that does sound silly. But I think the point still stands. Tsuna gave Hibari space to grow, and frankly, Hibari is grateful for that.

now we are entering the deranged territory

Hibari watched Tsuna grow all during the course of the manga and at some point Tsuna DID outgrow him. Not psychologically, but powerwise? Def. And Hibari cannot be not aware of that.

You might ask, how is he okay with that, but the thing is, Hibari is actually very chill with not being the strongest person in the room. What he actually needs is people to respect him and his authority as Disciplinary Committee chairman and Namimori protector. Reborn respects it and is stronger than him. Does Hibari want to fight him? Yes. But he is not actually going out of his way to attack him.

Tsuna has a great deal of respect for Hibari, and in turn Hibari does not feel the same hostility to him he does towards Mukuro despite Tsuna being totally able to win against him in a fight. Once again, rip Byakuran.

BUT. HIBARI IS NOT GOING TO STOP GROWING ANYMORE. HE LEARNED HIS LESSON, HE IS NOW ENDLESSLY EVOLVING OR SOME SHIT.

AND

WHAT I AM SAYING IS

HE IS NOT ONLY NOT GOING TO STOP HELPING TSUNA TO BE BETTER BUT HE ALSO IS GOING TO USE TSUNA AS BENCHMARK

NOT AS SOMEONE TO BE LIKE. BUT SOMEONE TO BE BETTER THAN

THE PRIDE AS SYMBOL OF SELF AND AND THE BAND AS SYMBOL OF PRIDE

AND DISCIPLINE BEING THE KEY TO BETTERMENT OF SELF

HE DECLARES TSUNA BOTH HIS FRIEND AND HIS RIVAL THATS WHAT THE BLUE CURTAINS MEAN I REST MY CASE

[muzansfangs]

Not perfect, yours.

Starring: Tomioka Giyuu x f!reader;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, body worship, spoiler regarding Giyuu’s past, scars from battles, learning self-love, comfort sex, creampie, enstablished secret relationship, mentions to injures, post traumatic stress disorder (flashes about Sabito’s death), nipple play, praise kink, slight choking kink;

Plot: You have learned to love yourself by loving him. Living a life of danger, wearing the scars of your fights with pride, you would have never thought someone was going to love you. When you met him, when he opened his heart to you, though, everything changed. Protecting what you two had was your priority. As you shared a night into a Wisteria house with him, you finally let yourself go. You trusted Giyuu with your whole life, you loved him more than anything else on this world;

Author note: it is rare for me to put the author note on top of a one-shot, but in order to prevent possible drama to happen, I needed to clarify a thing, or two: this fic is an old work of mine posted on my old Ao3 account and my old Wattpad profile as well. While I cannot log anymore into Ao3 for some reason, I can still log into my old Wattpad profile and I will try to gradually delete my old works as I fix and rewrite them! Do not worry and enjoy this little scrap!

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The bittersweet scent of the wisteria filled the room, a gentle breeze blowing from the window making the atmosphere quite peaceful.

Sitting onto the tatami floor, you ran your fingers absent-mindedly through your hair, glancing at your reflection in the mirror in front of you. You looked battered. A constellation of scratches and bruises of various colors, mostly purple though, adorned your skin. Your hair, despite emanating a sweet porfume from the oil you had been kindly provided by the old keeper of the Wisteria house were still a mess. You had not got much time to trim them as of late.

What did you expect, though? This was your life and your day had been spent in a draining battle against a demon. Nothing new under the sun. You were used to look like this, to look kind of repulsive or unattractive for most of the male population. Or those were the words you had frequently heard people tag you with.

You were beautiful, your eyes glowing in passion, your features and curves making some Oirans turn pale. Yet, you had chosen a path that made you collect scars over your body and that caused every man you had met in your life to scrunch their noses in disgust, whenever you tried to strike up some basic conversation.

No one seemed to like a woman who lived the life of a warrior.

No one except him, the Water Pillar, Giyuu Tomioka. You two were considered the outcasts of the society. You were a rather unconventional woman, he was a lone wolf barely talking to people. Too reserved, too detached from the world, too sensitive too. Yet, you somehow found love in his solitary heart.

Glancing back at him from above your shoulder, your gaze trailed towards him, laying on the futon behind you. He was shirtless, his ocean blue eyes locking with yours before travelling down your own body. You watched how his pale cheeks turned red and you smiled faintly at his innocent reaction. His gaze was not lustful, it was one of complete adoration: a timid attempt to make you feel appreciated.

You were not naked, you still had the pants of your uniform hanging loosely on your hips and your chest was still covered by the straps of your worn-out bendage bra. However, that was the first time you had been stuck in the same room together, barely wearing clothes.

This was a new experience, a level of intimacy you both had been looking forward to. Something you coveted for months.

Seven months had passed since your first date. It had taken you less than two months to realize how deep was your love for him, how strong was the connection binding you to his heart. You still vividly remembered the day you two kissed for the first tims. It was a starless night at the Butterfly Estate and you were recovering from your last mission.

Giyuu blamed himself for not having accompanied you and kept on self-deprecating for always making the same fatal mistakes. The mistakes only you knew about.

“I could have lost you. Just like I have lost him” he had bitterly uttered, teary eyes inspecting your beaten visage. Countering back something was pointless. Giyuu never displayed emotions around other people. But he did with you and you knew that nothing could have truly made him change his mind, therefore you had boldly cupped his face in your hands and captured his chapped lips with yours. Amazement, awe, the feeling of floating and being loved for the first time ever engulfed you two.

The monsters keeping him awake at night, the guilt of having had his life spared by fate, or better, for having left Sabito alone in the wood had temporary evaporated.

You had fallen asleep in his arms that very night. It had became a habit of yours, slumping down next to him and nuzzling your face onto the crook of his neck. It was hard resting without his body keeping you warm at night.

And just like you always did, that night you walked up to him and straddled his lap. By the look in your eyes and the way Giyuu swallowed forcefully, you could tell something was different, though. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, when you shifted slightly to adjust your position on him. You felt his breath hitching and you batted your eyes closed for several seconds. You could feel the spark between you two, the air getting thin. It was suddenly so hard to breathe.

“Giyuu” you called out his name feebly, making sure he was fine.

It took a moment for him to answer, his hands resting comfortably on your hips to make sure you were really there “I need to know that whatever is going to happen in the future, you will always remember this moment”he softly said then, sending shivers down your spine. How could you ever forget it?

A small smile crept on your lips, half-lidded eyes peeking at him as you cupped his face in your hands and planted a chaste, brief kiss on his parted lips “I could never forget it. Not even in another life” you breathed out, fueling his confidence. You were the only one who had ever managed to make him appreciate himself, as much as it was possible. You knew that some wounds could not completely heal, but you had always tried to mend them, you always did your best to soothe him and save him from the demons pestering his mind.

Saving him somehow meant saving yourself.

The Water Pillar sighed and smashed his lips against yours, earning a breathy gasp from you. Your fingers tangled in his silky, black hair, tugging at them slightly to encourage him to deepen it. It was passionate, emotional even, and you felt your heart burn in your chest, when Giyuu wrapped his hand around your wrist and led it down.

You frowned, eyes opened in curiosity, until you realized that he had settled it to lay flat over his bare chest. You blushed and you could tell he was worried, maybe. You could feel his heart thrumming rhythmically underneath his ribcage, a lullaby you had learnt to fall asleep to through the months.

“Are you sure that you want this?” the Water Hashira mumbled, drawing invisible patterns with his thumb over the back of your hand.

You smiled and nodded your head vigorously “With every inch of my heart” you confirmed.

Giyuu squeezed your hand gently, his heart-rate increasing notably at the sound of your voice “Does it mean that you trust me?” he asked, staring deep into your glimmering eyes.

Your heart ached at the sound of his voice, so uncertain, so thready. Years spent in believing you do not deserve to be alive, undergoing degrading profanities thrown at your face, and enduring loneliness without anyone to stick by your side could deeply demage someone. Given instance, Giyuu Tomioka was broken beyond repair.

“I trust you” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his one.

Words became unnecessary, at this point. You believed in him, you trusted him wholeheartedly and that was already enough.

In a nick of time, his calloused fingers undid the bendages around your torso and your breasts were exposed to his soft eyes. Your nipples stood uptight, as the cool night breeze coming from the window pierced and bit your exposed skin. It was such a delightful sight to behold for him. You let him explore your body, his fingers roaming down your curves and his lips planting wet, open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone, until their grazed your nipples.

You moaned, batting your eyes closed as the tip of his fingers traced the irregular outlines of the small scars you had collected during years of slaying demons. You flinched under his touch, your eyes watering as he praised your beauty continously under his breath, your skin a canvas for him to print kisses over.

“Are you sure I am desirable?” you asked him, burying your face onto the crook of his neck.

Giyuu snorted and grasped your chin delicately, forcing you to look at his face “You are a goddess. Don't you dare claiming otherwise” he deadpanned, cutting you off with a kiss before you could have the chance to retort something.

You flushed in embarrassment, one of his hands working on his belt to unbuckle it hastily. He wanted you, but above anything else he felt the urge to let you know how much you worthed, how deeply he loved you and your glorious body. Giyuu was rather quiet, sometimes it was better for him to act than translate his feelings in words.

In a blink of an eye, you were laying on your back, your pants now discarded somewhere behind you. His cold hand slided underneath your panties, goosebumps raising on your naked legs as he approached your aching core. It felt right. Giyuu was the one.

Blue eyes met yours and you squealed out in pleasure, when his fingers drew figures eight on your bundle of nerves. He was nervous, yet gentle and, when he saw he was successfully pleasuring you, he grew more confident in his actions.

He shot you a knowing glance, before slipping your panties off and, when you bit your lower lip nodding at him, he wasted no time in accomplishing his duty of a caring lover. Anything you wanted, he was going to give it to you.

“Gorgeous, just gorgeous...” he whispered again, his index grazing down at your entrance. He had always felt out of place, as if he did not belong anywhere, but right now the center of his world was right in front of his eyes. You were his happy place in the world. Therefore, for the first time ever, he felt home.

You mewled under his touch, rosy cheeks and shaking legs waiting for him to make his move, to mark you as his for there was nothing more you desired more.

The raven-haired man smiled weakly at you and slowly slided his finger into your aching core, earning a strained moan from you. It was a blissful moment, a glimpse of the bright future laying ahead of you two. You had no idea for how long you were going to be together, considering the life you had chosen to live, but it would have been such a miraculously blissful and dreamy journey.

When he decided to add another finger to stretch you out better before the act, you sighed in content and bucked your hips up in frustration. You yearned for more, for him, for everything.

“Giyuu, please... – you whined, gripping the bedsheets underneath you so tightly that you thought you were going to rip them – I want you” you said, out of breath, eyes glistening in sheer lust and love.

Giyuu obliged to your request and, resting his elbows at each side of your head, he shoved his lenght inside you. A throaty moan fell from his lips, resounding into the bedroom of the Wisteria House you were currently quartering in. He filled you up completely, your walls squeezing him perfectly, as he conquered you inch by inch. Conntected, at least, for the very first time.

You had never seen Giyuu in such a miserable condition. He was barely keeping himself together, sweat beaded his forehead as he stayed still to let you adjust to his size. Your needs came before his ones. The look of adoration in your eyes, the way you kissed him lovingly, wrapping your legs around his waist, made him lose his cool, though.

He did not speak, instead he pulled out of you until only his tip was still buried in your heat before snapping his hips forward again. Your toes curled and you let out a sinful moan of ecstasy, eyes rolling back to your skull.

A few slow and deep thrusts followed, eliciting grunts and pleas from you. You were a moaning mess underneath him, his slow and passionate rhythm sending you to cloud nine. Was it possible falling in love all over again, every second you spent with the same person, with him? It was and it was pretty clear how deeply you trusted him, when, before you both got to reach your climax, you allowed him to wrap his hand around your throat.

Lewd noises and sacrilegious moans filled the air, but you had never felt more alive than now.

He came into you that night, collapsing beside you, drained, and unusually happy because you made him happy.

He turned towards you, silence swallowing you two for a few minutes. He was lost into a whirlwind of emotions, contemplating your weary face affectionately. You were the center of his Universe.

“I love you” he breathed out then, propping his head on the palm his hand to stare at you.

You chuckled softly, reaching out your hand to ruffle his hair jokingly before you spoke out your feelings once again “I love you too, baby”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! The urge to show love to this man was eating me up from the inside and therefore I am, fixing a relatively old work of mine. As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated.

Until next,

x o x o

TAGS: @electronicwitchcollection @shonen-brainrot @ladytamayolover @speedykittenpainter @youdidntseemehere21 @xxfelix-nightxx @doumadono

[glorious-spoon]

tell me all the things that i wanna hear [9-1-1 | Buck/Tommy; Buck/Eddie | 1/1]

1.3k words | feelings realization | episode tag

about a week ago i wrote this post about an eddie feelings realization at the bachelor party, so naturally after last night's episode i had to write the fic.

tell me all the things that i wanna hear [on AO3]

-

He doesn't remember it right away.

Which is… not surprising, probably. The bachelor party that wasn't marks the drunkest he's been since before Chris was born, possibly the drunkest he's ever been in his life. He wakes up in a bathtub shirtless and so hungover that he wants to die, and then they discover that Chimney is missing, and it's a long, stressful, terrifying fucking day that keeps Eddie way too busy to focus on any of the garbled flashes of memory from last night. Busting down a hotel door and shouting off-key karaoke at Buck and tilting sloppily together while they poured each other shots—stupid party shit that he's honestly too old for. They're definitely going to owe the hotel damage fees out the ass.

But in the end, Chim is okay. Or, if not okay, at least safely ensconced in a hospital bed. Eddie leaves to pick Chris up from Pepa's and he's still there, shooting the shit with his abuela and slowly sipping his fourth Gatorade of the day in the hopes that it'll settle his stomach enough for him to eat dinner, when he gets the text from Buck that the wedding is still on and he needs to get his ass back to the hospital. So he packs Chris in the car, and doesn't fight it when his abuela also insists on coming—Pepa waves them off with an indulgent smile—and doesn't allow himself to be relieved that the short notice means he has an excuse not to mention it to Marisol.

It's a beautiful wedding, in the end. Perfectly imperfect, in the way all the best things in life are. Eddie gets a little teary-eyed when Chim and Maddie slip the rings onto each other's fingers, and he claps with all the rest, and he just happens to glance up in time to see a flash of blue as Buck slips out the door.

For a moment, he considers following, but Karen nearly trips bringing the cake in, so Eddie jumps in to catch her before tonight can turn into any more of a catastrophe than it already is. From there, there's the usual party bustle of divvying up cake and passing out paper plates, and he forgets about Buck for a little while, at least until he tugs Tommy through the door, the both of them beaming like fools and covered in soot in a way that makes it very fucking obvious what Buck just spent the last twenty minutes doing with his mouth.

Eddie doesn't remember it then, either. He snickers while he watches the rest of the room catch on, while Buck introduces Tommy around to the people who don't already know him, and he catches Buck by the arm as he's making his way over to the cake.

"You might want to go wash your face there, bud," he says.

"What?" Buck blinks at him. Then he rubs at his cheek, and looks at his sooty hand, and goes bright red. "Oh. Um. Shit."

"Yeah."

"I was wondering why…" To Eddie's relief, he's laughing. "Well, that's one way to come out to everybody. Right?"

Eddie laughs. "I guess so. You feeling alright about it?"

"Yeah," Buck says. He glances over to where Tommy is talking to Chim and Maddie. Like he sensed it, Tommy glances up and grins brilliantly at him, and Eddie watches something in Buck's expression go soft and warm and pleased. "Yeah. I'm—I'm feeling really, really good about it."

Eddie's heart gives a funny little thump in his chest. He pats Buck's arm, then lets go. "Well, good. Happy for you, man."

"Thanks, Eddie." Just for a moment, Buck turns that soft expression on him. Then he says, "I'm gonna, uh, go wash up. Save me some cake!"

"Sure," Eddie says, but Buck's already gone. He threads through the crowd to Tommy's side, says something in a low voice to him that makes him laugh and Chim put a long-suffering hand over his eyes. Then they're both moving toward the door together, Tommy's hand resting low on Buck's back.

"Dad, can I have another slice of cake?"

He looks down at Chris. "I don't know, mijo, it's kind of…"

"Come on."

"Alright, fine," Eddie says, caving, if only so he doesn't keep looking at the door that Buck and Tommy left through.

They reappear a few minutes later, freshly scrubbed, and Eddie watches Hen hug first Buck, and then Tommy, who looks startled but hugs her back. Then they head through the crowd together toward the cake. Their hands are linked together. Eddie decides that's a good moment to go give Maddie and Chim his congratulations.

He doesn't remember it then, either. It's not until later, when the crowd is finally trickling out ahead of the end of visiting hours and Maddie and Chim take turns hugging a sleepy Jee-Yun before handing her over to Mrs. Lee, that Buck sidles up to him. 

"I'm gonna get going," he says. Then, to Chris, "Hey, Superman. Awesome party, huh?"

Chris shrugs, all studied adolescent indifference like he didn't insist on coming along. "It was okay. The cake was good."

"Actually, we should probably get going pretty soon too," Eddie says. "Abuela, you good?"

She flaps a hand at him and goes back to her conversation with Mr. Lee, and Buck says, "I'm gonna, uh, give Tommy a ride back to the station so he can drop off his gear."

He's blushing again. Eddie quirks an eyebrow at him. "Just to the station, huh?"

"Shut up," Buck mutters, but he looks pleased. He looks happy, the way a smile steals helplessly onto his face when he glances up at Tommy, who's standing by the door with his turnout coat slung over his arm, talking to Karen. Who glances up like he could tell Buck was looking at him, and smiles back.

"I mean it," Eddie says, instead of ribbing him some more. "I'm happy for you."

"Yeah, yeah," Buck mutters, slinging an arm over his shoulders and pulling him into a jostling half-hug. "I love you, man. You know that, right?"

Eddie tilts against him, his nose just bumping the edge of Buck's jaw, and that's when the memory hits him like a bullet, or a lightning bolt, or something equally sudden and devastating.

That couch in the hotel room. Sitting there with Buck's arm around his shoulders and one of Buck's legs flung over his knees—his shirt was gone by then, and Buck had lost his jacket, and Eddie could feel the warmth of his body through the thin tee he had on underneath. He was waving his hands as he spoke, jostling Eddie, and Eddie turned his face toward Buck and bumped his nose against his cheek just like he is now, and thought with perfect, sober clarity, I could kiss him right now. I want to kiss him.

He goes still. Buck must feel it, because he jostles Eddie a little, his warm, stubbled jaw rough against the bridge of Eddie's nose for just an instant before Eddie turns his head away. "Eddie? You good?"

"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't look up at Buck. Isn't sure he could stand to see his face, this close: his blue eyes, his soft lips, he was just kissing Tommy, he wants Tommy, not you, and anyway you're not—you don't—you can't— "Yeah, I'm good. Just kinda hoping I never see another shot of tequila as long as I live."

"Oh, tell me about it," Buck says, and finally releases him. "In retrospect, that was so fucking dumb." "Swear jar," Chris remarks, without looking up from his Switch. 

"Put it on my tab," Buck says, ruffling his hair. "See you guys later."

"Yeah, later," Eddie says, a beat too late. Buck doesn't seem to notice, thankfully. He gives Eddie a quick grin and heads back to where Tommy is waiting. Karen hugs him, and then Hen does, and Tommy waves at Eddie, who manages to gather the wherewithal to wave back. And then they're gone.

Eddie rubs his knuckles against his sternum, where a dull ache has taken up residence, then lets his hand and pulls a smile on before anyone can see.

[neonovember]

i watching civil war earlier and idk why but i had a random thought, imagine you and steve are dating or have a situationship but during civil war you choose tonys side instead of his, and he gets mad and you both end up arguing and don’t see each other til infinity war, where you guys both apologize and forgive each other🤭

warnings; reader and steve are both teetering on morally grey, mentions of violence, the goddamn accords, swearing, mentions of death, regret

authors notes; this has been sitting in my inbox for so long and I finally just wrote a little snippet of how i would want to write this request. If you guys enjoy it I'd love to expand! I'm thinking each part is at different times (fight on the tarmac and then post civil war).

divider by @firefly-graphics

You had met Steve right before the Avengers had been scrapped together with uneasy fingers.

There was a level of trepidation about the plan Fury had to gather a bunch of people who had enough power and strength to take down countries then. And despise how different you and the blonde soldier were, him being Captain Fucking America, the golden boy of the world and you being the recently cleared weapon the blossoms of fellowship sprung forth like a dandelion bursting through cracks of concrete.

There was an understanding between you both that came with navigating a new world for the first time. The loss and loneliness Steve had felt those few months following his waking, was something akin to how you felt, living a life now of normalcy. You didn’t know how to stand in line for coffee after so many years living in yellow ceilinged motels and abandoned houses off of highways. Steve could never sleep on the King sized bed Stark had fitted, the uneasy feeling sinking so different to the sharp jagged surfaces he was used to. It bonded you both, hell it bonded you with Bucky even.

Friendship had been just that for years, until it had morphed into stolen glances and feather touches. Until you both could finally admit to the longing that stretched between the space and waiting silence that lived between you both. You wanted to say that nothing had changed, but oh had it. 

You loved him with the entirety of your being, you felt it jitter in its iridescent reverie beneath your fingers each time you grazed them against his skin. It wasn't easy though, you both were so fierce, so mighty, there were times where you hated him just as much, where his steel unrelenting gaze made you want to wring his neck.

Tony leans back, steeping his fingers as his eyes cut to the rest of the Avengers sitting on the office chairs. There is a silence, the team waiting for someone to speak up and Steve's disgruntled face twists into disapproval

“You’re insane if you think this could work, Tony”

“Steve, listen, I understand what you're saying but what are we going to do?” Tony quickly remarks, almost as if he has been waiting for the inevitable argument to seize

“I got a couple of ideas, but it all ends with throwing this” Steve cuts his eyes to the stack of papers centred in front of him, disgust fleeting through his features, as if he could cause the offending manila folder to combust with his blues. “Back into their goddamn faces”.

“Really?

“Yes, what are you thinking Tony? This is goddamn hearsay”

Sam and Bucky nod their agreement, and there is a slow ripple of sides that form, the team is split, and it's not long before a back and forth surges between steve and tony, both eager to assert their point of view, both feeling it is their righteous duty to promote or throw the accords out the window.

The incessant remarks that have begun to cause the office room to quickly turn heated leaves you shaking your head, falling into the palm of your hand as you sit back against the chair. All of these stupid arguments, it was simple in your head. 

You didn't like the feeling of being put on a leash by the government but the accords were not exactly as blasphemous as Steve was saying it was, and your silent agreement following Tony’s speech causes you to speak up without thinking.

“I mean, it’s not bad” The sound of your voice is even, devoid of indignation or anger the way steve and tony’s is, and a silence settles over the office as the avengers look towards you in shock. You didn't speak much, opting to sit and let the rest of them have their say, but with each inquisitive look you feel a new sense of purpose. This was right, this was good, this could help you.

Steve looks towards you quickly, cocking his head to the side as he regards you with new eyes.

Your name sounds foreign as it passes through his lips

“Steve”

The rest of the avengers watch on as you both stare at each other

“You don’t seriously think this is smart?” Steve breaks first, always. Relents.

“It’s good. It’s great actually. Tony’s is right. We don’t get to run off and jump into every goddamn crisis like kids on a playground.”

“Cmon, this will kill people!”

“WE'VE KILLED PEOPLE! I have. Me, Steve. Call me selfish, this is my retribution-”

“You know that wasn’t on you, how could you have known-“

“Enough. I’ve let it eat me away already alright? It’s the fucking goddamn truth Steve. And you know it.

Betrayal bleeds through Steve's features, it humanes him. softens out the jagged edges that came from this life and he looks decades younger. He looks at you like the sickly asthmatic child he once was, and you tear your eyes away from him.

Blink, and it was gone, his regality and cutting calculating air of pristine dominance overtaking every last bit of him, bleeding back into his cheekbones and the depth of his ocean blues.

“You're not stupid, you're the smartest person I know and you can’t see the liability we’d find ourselves in? What happens when they deport us into a goddamn war zone? Use us to fight their battles huh?”

“We destroyed a country Steve. Sokovia, New York, goddamn Wakanda! We’ve left our mark, we’ve saved a lot of people, but we’ve also displaced thousands, people have lost their entire lives, just wiped out with a fling of your shield, while we come back to this-“ You shift your gaze along the Tower walls

“This fucking concrete sanctuary, showering away blood and fucking alien guts-“

“Hey, I quite like this building, it’s got its charm-“ Tony chimes

And you tilt your face to meet his.

“Shut up Tony”

“What we do, we do because we know it’s right, I’m not saying we leave the fight without a care about the aftermath, but collateral is a given when you do the things we do”

“Right now, the power is in our hands, we all have the interest of the people in mind, these governments? They don’t care. They are going to make us fight their own battles, use us like goddamn military weapons for their own agendas. I don’t have to remind you of all people? What's it like to be used as the government's pawn?” Steve replied bluntly, the harsh words stinging you as you look up at him with furrowed brows. 

That was low, especially for him. The claws of his passion escaping into jabs at your past.

A newfound anger blossoms within you, and you try and steer it with a clench of your fists that wean the plush leather of your armchair.

“You wanna talk about being used as a test tube by the government? You wanna talk about a fight that gets the other side exactly what they want? Do you forget about what you left for Hydra?” You spit without thinking, wincing as Bucky turns to you in quickness, his eyes shifting as they look towards you.

“Fuck..this is getting out of hand” Murmurs Sam, Tony beginning to switch from being entertained to looking grim.

“You do this Y/N, and you sign a death-”

“You do this Steve? You fight this? I’ll put you in the goddamn raft myself" 

You cut him off with a blanch, the rest of the avengers stutter a breath, Tony looking towards you with raised eyes and you appraise them all with a disgruntled huff.

Steve looks taken back, the cool demeanour cracking as he remains dumbfounded. Did you truly mean it? Of course not, despite everything you had a level of trust bonding you to Steve in a way that just wasn’t with the other team.

“I didn't-”

“I know” Steve blinks, but you can still see the way he stares distantly

“This is surprising” Tony replies, leaning against the kitchen counter, the silence cut by his sarcastic remark.

You cut your eye to him, narrowing them as he puts his hand up in meek surrender

“No no it’s good, I’ve got two ex assassins on board, if you don’t agree they could probably just tie you all up and force you too” Tony chuckles, and you shake your head with a murmur.

“Don’t do this Steve, I get it, you don’t trust the government that was infiltrated by fucking Nazis, but- can’t you see there is truth to it? Between the fucking corporate lines and bullet points?

“You aren’t stupid, alright? This- this isn’t stupid. It’s the smartest thing I think we've done in years” Is your parting remark before skidding off of the too comfortable seat and walking out the office doors.

[indigos-stardust]

Violet, Blue, And Bruised All Over: Long Talks

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6

Note: this has been in my draft for at least 2 weeks, hit a slump and then a hyperfixation couldn't write lol. so this is alot shorter and the drawings wont make as much sense without part like?? 6.5???... but I just wanted to post it cuz I felt bad

Reblogs and comments appreciated <3 I wanna hear y'all's thoughts >:3c

Red and Blue: a deep conversation filled with compassion and vulnerability:

Meanwhile Vio and Green:

(sorry I haven't updated this in a while, real life calls :')

The following days were hell. Red knew how much fights shredded his heart into a bajillion tiny pieces, but really the forced normalcy was so much worse!

The two had gotten an even bigger longer (and honestly ranty) lecture from Green the next day. Red didn't think it really helped much. Like sure they were cowed into NOT biting each other or whatever, but c'mon!

It felt like everyone was mad at everyone else! And even though technically no one was really mad at him, they were all mad at each other which- considering they were all sorta kinda not really the same person? It still felt that way!

Green had gotten really bossy and super serious, and Blue and Vio were just avoiding each other like the plague! Whenever they did come into "an unfortunate proximity" as Vio put it, there wasn't anything but a ton of silent hate! Red really just wanted to curl up into a little hole and die. Well not really! But like, emotionally! Just a bit!

Green kept pushing them to talk about the details, but neither one would talk. Red decided to try asking them one on one, you know, use his charm a bit and soften the edges- But even when he cried it didn't work! Him crying always worked! Especially when he said just the right words in just the right way to softly push them into making a realization.

Red wouldn't really call himself a manipulator in that sense, because hey! He was using his powers for good, right? At least most of the time, anyways. It was a useful way to get out of trouble and get things he wanted...

By why couldn't it work now when he needed it most!!

Vio just treated him like how a parent would to their kid when the kid just, well, asked about death or some hard grownup topic. Like Red just simply wouldn't understand and not to worry about it- But he was worrying! He knew Vio just didn't want him to be sad but still...

Then Blue- Well, Blue was just sad. And a little p*ssed. But it was clear he was just mostly sad. At least when he talked to Red anyways. At first he had been all huffy and insisted that it was all so stupid, so why even bring it up anyways? Because it was "over already!" Which, no that was super stupid of Blue to think, because obviously all their relationships were like super mega sad???

When Red expressed that sentiment though, it seemed to change something in Blue. Blue just closed up and got all quiet. He hated when Blue did that. But it also meant his plan was working. Blue may be a little, uhm, explosive to people and things when he got upset- But really if he was like actually really seriously upset? Then he got all quiet and intense all by himself. But Red knew how to pry all those layers off, even if it was just melting his way though each one of Blue's icy walls, one at a time.

Not even a day later of the guilt obviously devouring Blue inside out, and clearly losing against his ego. (Red knew that's what happened, he probably didn't want to be the "first one to show weakness" and just talk about how his feelings were hurt and acted like he was just all angry and didn't care, but Blue was a big softie and no amount of pouting was gonna change that in Red's eyes.)

They'd been walking to the training yards extremely early in the morning, the sun had barely peeked over the horizon really. In Red's opinion, going all the way to the castle to train in the big professional courtyard before the birds even woke up was probably some sort of crime against humanity. And him. But Red was so close to getting Blue to spill! SO he had to stick with Blue the whole time to make sure his plan would work. He just had to be consistent! Even if... it was at like... Red blearily squinted against the horizon. Five AM? Uegh.

Green was right about those too being similar. But it wasn't just cuz they were so stubborn. More like they were both weirdos that had a vendetta against sleep. Seriously, would it kill Blue to sleep in for five more minutes...

[avatarl0v3r]

NeteyamxFem!HumanReader Reincarnated part 1

Requested: Yes

Index: The readers parents were killed in the war between the sky people and the Na'vi they fought with the Na'vi the reader was trained to fight and survive by Jake she ended getting close to the Sully kids years later both her and the Sully family had to leave and find someone to stay to protect the clan from the next threat. Warnings: Character death, lots of angst, and cussing

"Go!" You say sternly turning to face Lo'ak, and Neteyam they both jumped into the water you following after shortly while being shot at.

As you come up for air you feel a sharp pain throughout your whole body mainly your chest Lo'ak and Neteyam are on the ilu Tisreya hanging on "You both are idiots you know that" You say your voice strained Tisreya looks at you her eyes widening at the sight "Y/n" Shock lasing her words.

Neteyam looks over "Shit" He pushed Lo'ak off the ilu and swam to you and grabbed you with Tisreyas help lifting you onto the ilu with him he rode away to a rock where he seen his dad.

"Dad, Dad its Y/n shes been shot," He helped lift you up with his dads help "watch her head" He kept repeating.

When you were laid down on the rock he jumped out the water and came and sat by your side holding your hand Jake lifted you a bit to see how deep the wound was "Fuck" He said laying you back down everyone was now next to you he grabbed Neteyams hands "Pressure! apply pressure" Neteyam put pressure on your wound you hissed in pain.

Neytiri showed up and seen you on the ground she jogged over and got on her knees worried about losing you.

"We're losing her!" You reach and grab Neteyams hand "Neteyam," you struggle to get air into your lungs as you try to finish your sentence "i-" Your gripped loosened completely Neytiri started to scream and cry uncontrollably Neteyam started to cry begging for you to come back.

Jake tried calming them down "Our work here isn't done, i need you back" He said as he grabbed Neytiri's face he then looked at Neteyam "Where are your sisters," he only looked at him "i said where are your sisters" He looked at the ship "On the ship" Jake and Neytiri went to go find their daughters leaving Neteyam with you.

Back at the village that night

Neteyam was swimming next to your body as it lay in a large leaf he watched as you body floated to the bottom of the sea "Mother always said all energy was borrowed and one day must be returned I guess this is what she meant"

Neteyam didn't have any reaction as he watched your body be swallowed by the sea later that night Tisreya took him to the tree of life he attached his queue and closed his eyes.

Neteyam opened his eyes to see you standing there where the two of you always sparred Neteyam ran to you and hugged you tightly not letting go "Neteyam you can not longer see me at the tree of life again" He looked at you confused by your words "I wish I could join you, but this will have to be enough" He grabbed your hand looking into your eyes "What do you mean? Cant I just see you again?".

You shook your head in response "Maybe in another life we'll meet again" Neteyam shook his head "And what if we don't" You smiled "We've met before, and we'll meet again in another life."

The present

10 year old you sits up in your bed sweating and crying the "nightmare" didn't scare you it never has it feels more like deja vu as if that had really happen you turned and laid back in your bed covering up.

The next morning you seen your friend Rebecca "Becca, i had that dream again the one about the blue aliens and humans at war" Rebecca looks at you interest in her eyes "Ouu was that boy in it again" You rolled your eyes and laughed at her "We both want to be in the military so who knows maybe those blue alien things are real and maybe one day we'll get to go to Pandora" you smiling at the end.

I love this request and there will be parts to this story and time skips.

Everyone that commented on this i will tag in the next part it’ll be posted at 1 am EST

THESE ARE THE OUTFITS SHE WEARS

i own non of these photos

HUMAN: AVATAR:

[equippedtolove]

yeah okay so @anne061989 made a post about this song and I was like 'ok I'll write it'

bed chem - a wolfstar microfic

tw for alcoholism, really mild nsfw

The lights of the club shine brightly on Sirius' face as he makes his way to the back. It smells stale and feels cramped, and he brushes into people's backs as he walks past them. His shirt, made of some translucent material, reveals countless tattoos he got done as a teen. He meets James at a back booth, following his line of sight to some pretty ginger ordering at the bar.

"Who's that, mate?" Sirius asks, clapping him on the back with a grin. "Found the love of your life at last?"

"I don't know yet, but by the end of the night I will," James turns to Sirius with a lovesick smile. "Isn't she beautiful?"

But Sirius' attention has been taken away by the man sat next to the redhead. He's got soft amber eyes and a long, eagle's nose, and a cut down his cheeks that just scrapes his lip. In the light of the bar, he looks kind and sweet, and Sirius wants to devour him.

He walks up to the man, whose ridiculous height makes it easy to keep an eye on him, and when the guy turns, he does a double take at the sight of Sirius.

"Hello there," Sirius drags his eyes up and down the man's form suggestively. "Could I get a name, gorgeous?"

The man rolls his eyes with a teasing smirk. "It's Remus. What about you?"

"Sirius. Wanna dance?" Remus seems to be fighting some sort of internal battle with himself as he stares anxiously at the dance floor. Sirius dances his fingertips on his shoulder. "Or get a drink, if dancing isn't your thing."

Remus shakes his head resolutely as some new song comes on. "No, let's dance. I like this song."

I was in a sheer dress the day that we met

We were both in a rush, we talked for a sec

You're friendin' me up so we could connect

And what are the odds? You sent me a text

Sirius grips Remus' hand with a grin as he pulls him onto the dance floor, winding his arms around his neck. Remus' hands instinctively go to Sirius' hips, and caresses them with his fingers as they move to the music.

Who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent? Like

Maybe it's all in my head

But I thought we'd have really good bed chem

Sirius breathes hot into the shell of Remus' ear. "So, where are you from, darling? You sound Welsh."

Remus looks at him with sparkling eyes as he chuckles. "Yeah, my parents are. We moved to London when I was seven."

"You sound hot." Sirius grins, pressing kisses to Remus' neck, making him groan lowly.

How you pick me up, pull me down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense

How you talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things, that's bed (bed) chem (chem)

How you're lookin' at me, yeah, I know what that means and I'm obsessed

Are you free next week? I thought we'd have really good

Remus crushes his hips into Sirius' as he drags him to the entrance of the bar, and out into the cold night air. He picks Sirius up and breathes into his throat as he sucks a hickey into Sirius' collarbone, while Sirius pants and gasps above him.

"God, Remus, are you not afraid of public indecency?" Sirius moans, weaving his hands into Remus' soft hair. He said it teasingly, but Remus sobers up at his remark and gently puts him down.

"Ugh, fuck, you're right. Come home with me? You can text your friend, I'll text mine," Remus' eyes darken again as amber meets bright blue. He buries his face into the crook of Sirius' neck again as he takes out his phone to call James.

"James? Oh god- remember that, ah, guy I was dancing with?"

"Uhhh, yes?"

"I'm- I'm going home with him, okay? Don't, fuck, don't wait for me."

"Okay, Pads. Please hang up."

"Fuck, sorry!"

The line goes dead, and Remus catches a feverish kiss to Sirius' bruised lips as he hauls him on to the pavement. "Wait a sec, I got us an Uber."

Sirius smiles at Remus. "God, you're perfect. Are you free next week? I feel like we have really good chemistry."

thanks @cheetobush for showing this to me!! also I think sirius' eyes are silver but blue went the song!!

[myimaginedcorner]

SCALES OF JUSTICE - BETA TESTERS NEEDED

Hi dear readers,

Thank you for your overwhelming trust and support. The opinions that I've collected over the past few days have finally motivated me to put aside my self-criticism and doubt, and to make the next step towards SoJ's release.

Yes, Scales of Justice is now officially in its BETA-test phase!!

If you would like to help me by being a BETA-tester for my book, please, comment under this post, send me a direct message, or message me on CoG's forum. I aim to take around 20 to 30 people, so we can have a big and productive group that nonetheless remains constructive in its feedback.

If you don't have the time or you don't want to be a tester, consider sharing this post, so it can get to as many of you as possible.

I will be working alongside the testers on improving style, grammar, and other minor details that require polishing as the month progresses. Hopefully, by the end of it we'll have an even better version of this book that will be submitted for approval to Hosted Games!

See you all very soon,

Julia xx

BOOK DETAILS:

DEMO DESCRIPTION:

Scales of Justice is a fantasy game situated in another world, far away from Earth. There are plenty of species living together in harmony, but the human race is currently split in two civilisations: the one known as Hero kingdom, which is ruled by ‘heroes’, and the one named Vannais kingdom, controled by ‘villains’. Both nations hate each other and the fight between ‘heroes’ and ‘villains’ here is something that happens on a national level. The game is focused on lore, on character development and your own perception of reality: perhaps, your MC just wants to live a peaceful life... or maybe wants to save the world.

Or even rule it, if you’re into such things.

THINGS TO DO IN THIS DEMO:

Set off on a new adventure towards Neutral Lands, to meet a mythic creature of all answers - The Visionary.

Gather up to 3 companions to help you in your quest - befriend, romance or rival them, the choice is yours.

Buy a horse - we know you want one.

Fight, conjure, support, speak or think - choose your way of handling a tricky situation.

Explore the kingdom of Hero up to Menai's shore, in search for someone - or something - to aid you in your journey.

The DEMO version of the book runs up to Chapter 5 and contains 276K words overall. I will be putting up updated versions of the first chapters as I work my way through them, so expect the DEMO version to become a polished reflection of what the final book will look like!

USEFUL LINKS:

If you want to know a little more about this project and read chapters 1-5, I'll leave the link to the game here -> https://dashingdon.com/play/myimaginedcorner/scales-of-justice/mygame/

If you want to discuss anything on CoG's forum, I'll leave the link for SoJ here -> https://forum.choiceofgames.com/t/wip-scales-of-justice-new-project-announcement-and-demo-release/101088/16

If you want to send me a more extensive feedback, here's my email -> feedbackscalesofjustice@gmail.com

Any mistakes, concerns or questions you have, feel free to contact me through Tumblr! I am very excited to share this story with all of you, and I want to make it as good as possible with your help!

RO DESCRIPTIONS:

Shoren/Seile -> Heir to the Hero kingdom's throne, right where your journey starts. Also, your old friend who's very attached to you. Likes to read and practices magic, enjoys adventure and heroic deeds. A recognised “hero”, with blonde curly hair, pale skin and a pair of beautiful blue eyes.

Robert/Reina -> Order's Paladin, defender of Hero and Knight of Fate. Brave and honourable, determined to protect the people of the kingdom. Very loyal to friends and very dangerous as an enemy. Has short brown hair, tanned skin and an athletic build.

Valerius/Venis -> An Outworlder, who was caught by cultists from the Wicked Woods. Gracious, elegant and charismatic. Has long dark brown hair with a silver streak, olive skin and golden eyes.

Arion/Aria -> Leader of Vannais, a recognised “villain” who escaped from Hero and now rules the enemy kingdom. Serious, reserved but temperamental. Prefers action over words and so is always present on battlefields and amidst negotiations, even though never in official manner. Has short blonde hair, pale skin and emerald eyes.

Be careful! These characters have their thoughts and opinions on the world and your actions: if you want them to support you, convince them or take their side… or neither. That is your choice after all!

[c0smoshit]

Hun, I just saw your post about my request being posted earlier! Don't worry about it! Take all the time you need and I want you to enjoy it as much as you can! I know you'll do amazing, and it'll be worth the wait! I am so sorry Tymblr has been a bitch

Blue eyes ミ★

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/Reader

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 ≫ Cloud's been having some horrific dreams lately

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ angst!, fluff too, traumas, nightmares, slight harrasment from a drunk guy, visions, voices, not proofread!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ Sorry for the inactivity and tumblr being a bitch :(( But anyways, enjoy this mess 🫶😭

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 4.462

« Red »

The colour his mind pictured when he started hearing things, seeing them. His head spinned and hurt, closing his eyes tightly while strange voices filled his mind.

He didn't know where they came from or why they did it, but he was so tired of them.

At first it didn't happen really often, it all started when he stepped on that polluted city. It caused him such a weird and sad feeling, Midgar, the city that was supposed to be such an advance in technology, bringing fresh and huge mako reactors to create those little colorful pearls everyone seemed to want.

But it was all bullshit, they were destroying the planet, milking every mako drop out of it. It got to a point were people couldn't even see the daylight from the slums, greeted by hours and hours of darkness and emptiness.

His mind often circled around how lifeless the faces of the people were, matched with the depressing sight of the metallic buildings and playgrounds. The only natural light that beamed through the endless sandy paths were the children, bringing honest giggles and big jovial grins to the world.

How would it feel to be a kid again?

Nostalgia rested deep inside him, he mourned those years, when it all felt right and real.

Long walks along the little village with his mother, longer ones in the mountains by the back of his house.

Breathe clean air, sleeping with the sound of the air hitting the slope of the mountains with persistence.

His mother caressing his hair as he told her not to ruffle it up

"Learning" how to be a SOLDIER by himself.

He reminisces about his loneliness too, he constantly looked foward to what Tifa's friends were up to.

Although he didn't really fit with anyone on Nibelheim besides Tifa, he was happy and he had dreams. Dreams that were soon sliced by a huge Masamune.

No matter how hard his subconciousness, driven by the silhouette of SOLDIERS and Sephiroth, tried to tell him that those kids were inferior to him, they seemed to be so joyful and honestly happy.

And he just... was there.

Those were the happiest years he had ever looked back on, and now they just remained as memories.

But time appeared to exacerbate those imminent dark nights.

People would frequently put him as a companionless guy, one of many who enjoyed the silent strides of their own feet. And he was, he loved being alone, not with his mind.

He had become accustomed to being alone, he always had been a solitary person and that's all he knew.

His mind roved around his past, his memories, and he often found himself trying to decipher if they were real or just some images that this new voice had placed deeply inside his psyche.

Maybe that was the reason he actually likes spending time with the group, not really the fact that he got to be with them but the comfort of the voices being subdued by them. Even if it just lasted some hours.

Midgar had a dark aura around it that he only seemed to discern. And it got worse and worse, scarlet painted memories of the ones he couldn't protect.

He was tired, tired of it all.

Tired of fighting only to be compensated with grief and regret.

Tired of taking care of everyone, as cruel as it sounded.

Tired of seeing him everywhere, even on the safety of your arms.

The man, if he even deserved that name, who took his life away savagely, his dreams and his trust for him. The day he remembers the most, yet so vaguely, a chaos of blurred ( burnt ) out images inside his messed up brain.

The years had taken away decades of sanity that should still remain inside him.

And hundreds of hours of sleep too.

His body sometimes walked itself out of his makeshift appartment Tifa had lent him, governed by the need of "fresh" air. Nonetheless they were just mere excuses for the fear he felt, knowing that he had to sleep that night with his own thoughts.

He saw you once, streets painted with the caliginosity of the moon, you looked calm as you feet dragged you through the solid metal walls.

He pondered about going and talk to you, but he opted to just watch you fade away into the dead of night. Kind of creepy, he thought, but he didn't want to disturb your peace.

But the metal clank of his comically large sword, resting heavily on his back almost exposed him. Two confused glowing orbs looked around, trying to decipher what they just heard. However they eventually calmed themselves down and continued their enigmatic pace.

He let out a sigh of relief he wasn't aware was holding, lowering the rapid gloved hand that tried to stop the movement of his sword from the handle.

Before he decided that he should leave you alone, something sparkled inside him, something was wrong.

He resumed his steps and before he even had a chance to think, some strange man approached you. Maybe you had a boyfriend he didn't know about?

That option was quickly discarded as your face scrunched up in disgust for a brief moment before you smiled at the man, telling him something. Something he didn't seem really excited about as he slurred some words out of his mouth while closing the distance between the both of you.

His forbearance soon emptied itself, he couldn't bear seeing you like this for another minute. He was aware you knew how to manage yourself in fights and this wouldn't be the first time your shin ended on some guy's crotch.

But everytime something like this occurs, you try to be as polite as you posibly can, not wanting the situation to escalate to a higher problem. Muttering some

"I'm fine thank you"

Your hands crossed in front of your chest, tugging tightly your own shirt as you tried to walk away. But the weird guy got even closer to you, smiling as if he was proud of winning a medal, trying to cage you into the wall.

"Aww cmon, I just wanna have some fun tonight"

His disgusting drunken reek filled your poor nostrils, god why couldn't he just walk away or something?

"You don't want to have some fun?"

You were forced to stop dead on your tracks as his hand launched itself, hitting the wall besides you, ending up at your eye level.

"Hey-"

Your eyes widened in horror as he came closer to your face, whispering something into your ear that your mind couldn't process, as the only thing that popped up instead was the image of your fist fitting so good into his cheekbone.

The hand that grabbed your waist was your last straw, but before you could land a decent blow into the man's face something stopped you. Well, rather someone.

Some signature light blonde locks followed by a stoic and quite angry expression appeared behind the guy, his thin lips parted, words fell out of them full of irritation.

"Mind your own bussiness, freak"

A scoff was heard but it was soon replaced by a leather sound, the yank of someone's jacket followed by the loud sound of a body hitting the ground.

The man quickly got himself up, dusting off his clothes and when he was ready to make some comments about the appearance of the one who had taken him down, he decided to shut his mouth as his eyes travelled to the weapon he was wearing.

That and his intimidating appearance, the moon casting it's light into his back so his face was dark enough not to reveal his features, but not his piercing mako eyes.

Eyes that stared down at him with the most disgusting look he had ever seen on anyone's face before.

And in spite of the fact that Cloud wasn't that intimidating like Barret could be, his actions made his whole facade darker. He wasn't a tall and beefy guy, but he was strong.

Just by one movement of his sword he could slice a motorbike in half, his dexterity with blades was what made him feared.

And yet he was also good in close battles, clear agility as he moved through both the battlefield and the hits that were thrown at him. That and his quick thinking and last minute dodges he offered too.

The man had already vanished into the rumbling engines that worked overnight, fused with the quiet chatter of the souls who worked late. You sighed out in harmony with his grip softening on the handle of his sword once again.

You had so many questions that needed to be answered right now, the louder one asking how come he was here tonight?

The night ended with him taking you back home, telling you that you should be more careful, gaining a frow of your brows and you saying something about how you could protect yourself.

And he knew that, he had seen you fight with him, taking down enemies that he was too slow to see. But he still wanted to take a look after you, make sure nobody harmed you in any ways.

He wanted to be there the way you were there for him.

« Blue »

The way his visions were tinted like, navy blue mixed with some undertones of green.

They were the worst part of all this madness he was enduring.

They caused him headaches and the feeling of disorientation, and he absolutely despised being lost. He didn't even know who he was or why he was here, his mind was the worst puzzle he had to ever go through.

However, that wasn't the darkest thing about it.

The visions felt so real, vivid images flashing through his mind like a high speed train, travelling through all his senses and flooding them.

He could see everything and no matter how hard he tried to squeeze his eyes shut, his own brain forced them open.

He could hear the cries and wailings for mercy, sometimes for help, his help.

He could touch, but everything was so far away yet so close to him.

He could taste the bitter-sweet savour of guilt.

The rancid smell of sadness.

The only sound that brought comfort to him, as it being a signal that he was still alive, ceased it's rythmic pumping. A looming mist spreading from his stomach to the rest of his body, fueling his nerves.

He could sense that they either were years appart from his timeline or mere minutes away.

But the conclusions all ended up in the same alleyway, they were going to happen.

Something deep inside whispered into his pierced ear that he couldn't do anything about them, that they weren't just some visions inside his head.

And they frightened him, watching from an imaginary seat how his friends died, how the planet was destroyed, his face.

As a result from this, his head became a cage that no matter how hard he tried to break the iron bars with his naked hands, he was too weak to do so. He just wanted liberty.

That cage multiplied at least ten times the feeling of claustrophobia the aura of the city gave him.

"No!"

A heartrending cry ringed painfully through his ears, loud enough to make them feel as if they were about to bleed.

His eyes were closed but he didn't want them open either way, the ground felt cold even with his boots on.

"Please don't"

The agonizing voice didn't die down like he was waiting for, instead it increased it's volume, almost as if it wanted for him to look up and see what was going on.

And eventually, he did.

His eyes searched for the voice ( for you ), eyes falling on the hand that was clutching for dear life a metal structure.

He recognized the place right away, the lukewarm temperature envolving the gears and his body, the mustiness that filled up his nose. He was inside a reactor.

Faint lights gloomed upon his clothes as his feet dragged him through the grilles, his back felt empty. He didn't have the soothing weight of his weapon, feeling vulnerable to whoever wanted to fight him.

"Please, Cloud"

That did it for him, it was unmistakably you.

Your sweet and sometimes monotone tone was gone, blatantly swapped with a much more startled and uneasy one. Your hands were the only thing visible for him to see right now, the image of your body suspended in the air already present inside his brain.

He didn't know why but a memory of your hand touching his flooded his mind, he liked the softness of them, he wished he didn't had gloves on.

The more intense your cries became, the more he wanted to scream back at you, tell you that he was there, that you were going to be fine.

But nothing came out of his mouth

He kneeled down in front of you, finally able to see your face. But he didn't like the way you were sweating, how your eyes widened in horror as you looked back at him. He wanted to see your features soften, to hear your laugh, your voice telling him not to overwork himself.

The abyss consumed him, what seemed like miles and miles of hollowness and darkness bellow you.

Your left hand slipped off the edge with a yelp, you were slowly sinking down and he wasn't going to let you do so. His hand grabbed the one that was still gripping the platform, clutching it tightly.

He wouldn't let you slip off that easily.

Your quivering voice was the only sound that could deafen the roar of the engines around the both of you. Although you were visibly sweating, your hand felt cold under the thin layer of his black gloves.

An invisible rock attached to your feet by a thick rope made you feel heavier than before, gradually dragging you lower and lower from his grasp.

He couldn't even let out grunts or sighs out of his mouth, he wanted to tell you to hold on, just a bit more and you were going to be safe with him once again.

He tried to lift you up, but you didn't budge. His body tensed up and he was becoming more and more impatient.

By the time your hand finally gave up on him, he was laying face down on the ground, his feet stopping him from falling down with you.

"I'm sorry"

A tear slipped from your tired eyes, your body dissapearing into the void with the saddest smile he had ever seen on your face. He didn't want to ever see that expression again, he wanted you to smile brightly, not fade out lights with it.

And why were you apologizing? He should be the one to do so, he was unable to save you. You should be here with him now, enveloping your loving arms around him while you thanked him.

He felt his heart being crushed down, he wouldn't be able to feel you pat his shoulder in a reassuring way whenever he had to fight someone again, your hands dusting off his clothes after a long mission.

He wanted to cry, to scream, to kill someone.

But his mouth was sealed shut, his hands trembled but no tears seemed to stain his cheeks. His heart pumped harshly inside his chest and as if someone were tugging his hair, his head hurt.

And when he closed his eyes, they were opened again.

But he wasn't met with cramped, massive iron walls around him, he was met with his unfurnished blank wall.

Thank god, he thought.

His sheet was between his legs and the floor, a cotton waterfall on the side rail of the bed. His shirt was ridden up above his belly button, the moon was still up in the sky staring at him with a motionless facade. And he could've sworn it was mocking him.

He had sat up abruptly, letting out a screech he wanted to let out for a while now, reverberating from his chest and into the small room. He tried to calm his breathing, his hands clutched the matress bellow him.

His hair was messier than it usually was, he stared at the closed window and into the incessant lightless sky.

For the first time in his life he was pleased to see those streets again.

That took place about week ago and of course he didn't tell anyone. He didn't want to pile more stress and worry on the shoulders of the group.

On the outside, his demeanour didn't change a bit. Well, not for the ones who didn't know him.

His subtle tiredness and grumpiness was cristal clear for you to notice. His patience died down sooner than before and his irascibility when he was fighting someone was what exposed him.

And if his answers were dry and short they basically were nonexistent now.

But he had a thick skull and no matter how many times you asked him—

"Is everything alright?"

His head turned around to see you, a confused frown rested on his face. Had he done anything weird?

—he didn't seem to answer you.

He then shook his head and his hand, silently telling you that he was fine. But you stopped yourself before asking him a second time, you didn't want to be a nuisance either way.

You were walking next to him a few meters away from the group in front of you. They walked back to Seventh heaven, but you purposedly abandoned your talk to walk with Cloud instead.

And he didn't seem bothered by it, he appreciated the way you cared about him, but he couldn't tell you what was happening, not now.

He didn't dare to look at you, he knew if he did so, flashes of his prior dreams would engulf his mind.

Sooner or later he did, throbbing guilt crossed painfully his mind when he did so. He saw blue in your eyes.

An ocean emerged in front of his eyes, submerging your face and then your clothes, coalesced with a big meadow of beatiful grown grass that enveloped your features.

He could've found this view incredibly magestic if it wasn't for the fact that he knew what was about to happen.

He didn't- He couldn't take it anymore.

His skull appeared to be thicker inside his skin, crushing down his brain. His hands swiftly made contact with his forehead, eyes closed shut and avoiding to see anything.

Whispers and sometimes yells echoed through the dim alleyway, his knees bucking as he supported himself on the wall.

His eyes achingly opened up again, his hands grasped something that was too soft to be a stone wall, he saw your face.

"Please don't- Please don't go"

"to the reactor..."

Your soft voice with some hints of sleepiness reached his eardrums, was he dreaming?

A question he found himself asking a lot lately, not knowing how to discern between reality and a vision or a dream.

He hesitated to open his eyes once again, his headache had dissapeared but his eyelids felt heavier than before.

When was before?

He saw your face, but you weren't staring at him back. Subsequently your hands stroked his hair tenderly, a touch he would love to die for.

You were humming softly, his mother did that a lot when she was cleaning him up and tucking him before sleep.

He wanted to admire your beauty for just a little while, the moon stared at him once again, but this time he was the one who laughed at it.

Your soft skin, your hair released from the confines of your hair tie, your lips, your eyelashes that batted so cutely whenever you saw an animal, your nose.

You were from another dimension.

And he melted right away after you noticed that he was awake, your smile being the first thing that came into his vision. The loss of warmth on his blonde locks made him a bit mad.

That was when he noticed where he was laying on, your legs. Blood rushed to his cheeks, creating a slight blush on his pale skin. But he shrugged his thoughts fast enough for you not to notice his weakness.

He wished that whenever he had a nightmare or a crude vision your thighs would be there to craddle his head.

He didn't know why he was here but he didn't want to hear the answer too, he was more than happy to be there either way.

He knew he could speak right now, but he didn't have anything to say. Your hand falling down into his cheek followed with a kind look on your lips was what kept him silent.

And the words that fell from them were the only reason he was still fighting Shinra, fighting with you, for you, to hear them again and again.

He didn't demand poetic phrases for him to melt on spot, just by hearing the most simple reassuring worss fall from your lips was more than enough for him.

"I'm here for you "

He spent the rest of the night curled up like a ball on top of your legs, hearing your honeyed words deliciously filling his ears repeatedly.

He wouldn't tell you why he had passed out on top of you, why had he pushed you to the wall in front of the group as he anxiously warned you.

And he ceirtantly wouldn't tell you about how his dream of you walking alone in an alleyway was the reason his body walked itself out of his appartment.

The softness of your skin wasn't there anymore it was replaced by your cozy pillow, but it wasn't enough for him.

Dawn's first light entered through your closed window, hitting his face. He had slept without any worries for the first time in weeks, drowned in your touch.

He wanted to thank you, he only had spent a night with you and you had managed to clear his mind from any racing thoughts. His head craved for your touch, his arms and his hands too.

He looked down and he saw his usual clothes, but now they smelled like you.

But you weren't there, he looked around and he took advatange of the quiet dawn to see your room. It was the same size as his own one, but it was definitely prettier than his.

Clean sheets deliciously wrapped around his body that fell down onto his legs when he sat up on the bed, your bed. Cute posters and images about some cats, family and friends laying around on your desk or hanging on the wall.

He rubbed his somnolent eyes before getting off the bed with a swift move, laying on his feet. He noticed that they were lighter than before and when he looked down, he wasn't wearing his boots anymore. You had taken the time to take them off before getting him inside your bed, a small smile formed on his lips at the thought.

His head pekeed through your door as he opened it as quietly as he could, it was still pretty early so he didn't want to wake you up if you were still around.

Without the huge piece of metal behind his back he was pretty quiet, so he used that on his advantage.

His feet guided him until he reached what seemed to be like your living room, it was the same like your bedroom. It was a copy of his own one but much cozier.

But he didn't have time to look around like he did with your room, you were a much more pleasant sight to see. He walked silently until he was right next to your sleeping form.

The first thing that crossed his mind was how gorgerous you were like this, comfy and relaxed under the spell of sleepiness. Your rythmic slow-paced breaths, they reminded him of the sea.

However, he immediately felt bad for stealing your bed, he noticed the way you were curled up on the small couch, your back was probably going to kill you when you woke up.

So without any second thought, his left hand wrapped itself bellow your knees while his right one simultaneously enveloped your back. He gently lifted you up in his arms, your head lolling to the side until it met his shoulder, your temple resting next to his chest.

He wasn't going to lie to himself, he sometimes daydreamed about carrying you like this, how would it feel. Your sweet "thank you"'s echoed inside his head when he lifted your harmed form after a cruel battle, your arms hugging his neck.

A few minutes passed and he thanked his hard training for being able to hold you like this for a long while.

Your body shivered, right, you didn't seem to have a spare blanket other than the one in your bed. So he pressed his body closer to yours, trying to warm you up.

He knows he's already called you pretty and gorgerous over ten times now, but god, he needed to remark it. And right now you looked as cute as those cats you seemed to love, unconciously hiding your face on his chest with a long sigh.

He marched back into your room and he noticed that his buster sword was resting on the right wall of the living room, next to his boots.

The more he noticed those little details, the more he wanted to hold you close to him.

But when he finally reached your room after an agonizing ( purposely ) slow pace, it was time for you to properly rest.

So he placed you on top of your mattress, heart fluttering when he saw your little stretch on the bed. He enveloped your body with your blanket, mimicking your pleasured smile when he did so.

If only time could stop right now

He closed the curtains so the light didn't disturb your well deserved sleep like it did to him and then he sat down next to your bed.

Thankful for having a cure for his illnesses.

[crmsnmth]

Hello

Version 5.5

Introductions Are stupid.

Hey. How goes it?

I'm 36. Caucasian male. Goth-punk. I live in a small-town of 2000 people right in the center of the drunken state of Wisconsin. It is not even close to as fun as that sounds, and it doesn't sound all that fun to begin with. For work, I am a kitchen manager at one place and a line cook at another. I work seven days a week, because I've really got nothing better to do. Forces me out of the house. Makes me be social. And I actually really like what I do. I've been working in the industry for twenty odd years.

I listen to all music, and I'm not just saying that. I actually do. You can go through my main playlist, and you'll find everything from Slayer to Britney Spears to Alan Jackson to The Casualties to Katy Perry etc.… My favorite band of all time is the Descendents. But standing tall in second place is Amigo the Devil and Frank Turner rounding out my top 3. But you should tell me your favorites song, or one that means something to you, I need new music to memorize.

I'm mentally screwed and quite medicated. I have come to peace with this fact. I've been as stable as I can get for a good four years now. So that's neat. I am a raging cynic. I am a recovering addict, long-term. 8 Years. I am sober a little over two. I am a major cinephile, especially when it comes to the glory of the 80's slasher movie. I absolutely adore weird movies. The last film I watched that I really liked was Kinds of Kindness. I thought it was brilliant. My favorite movie of all time is Tommy Wiseau's masterpiece "The Room." I mean that 100%. That movie is the best thing to ever be put on film and I will fight and die upon this hill. I write more than any sane and healthy person should write, but I'm far from sane and I'm far from healthy. I post at least once a day, but sometimes I can post over ten. My notes app on my phone is scary looking.

I do not write for anyone's actual approval. Not even my own really. I do this because it's the only addiction I have that isn't actively trying to kill me and is actually trying to better me as a person and get in touch with unresolved feelings and places that will never have closure.

I will always love constructive criticism. But please, for the love of all the love in the world, don't just tell me I suck. I get that. It's a massive part of my whole gig. Please, give me a reason why I suck, what I'm doing wrong in your eyes. Help me to better this craft I play with. Seriously, I love it. But if you can't give me a reason, maybe it's best you keep that food-hole shut, and stop trying to be a dick, dick.

So since, I write some much, what topics to a tap dance to the grave with? I'm pretty predictable. So, this stuff: The Girl with the Ocean Blue Eyes, Kid, The Broken Mirror Girl, My Junkie Angel, The Girl from California, The Best Friend, The Drunk*, love, lost lovers, hopelessness, isolation, drug addiction, alcoholism, depression, forgotten acquaintances, mental illnesses, rage, hate, rejection, joy, insignificant moments, slices of life, laughter, beauty, self and self-reflection, self-hate, art, other writers, panic, infatuations, obsession, therapy, group homes, rehab, jail, grace, nature, loss, hope, fear, grief, anguish, philosophy, anarchism, nihilism, religion, god, the devil, ugliness, politics, serial killers, cults, suicide, death, destruction, chaos, music, validation, closure, memory, enemies, friends, rock bottom, sex, violence, rock and roll, sin, self-exploration, bipolar disorder, schizoaffective disorder, pain, self-destruction much more.

Consider this little spot your trigger warning.

I make music as well as the writing gig. Go tell me I suck at it.

I know about the typos. I am very aware. You don't need to tell me, because I'm probably not going to fix them anyway. Besides, you can figure it out.

There's bare bones about me and what I'm about and where I stand. If there is anything else you'd want to know for some godforsaken reason, go ahead and message me. I may not be real good at it, I do enjoy having fifteen second conversations.

*NOT REAL NAMES