#that’d be like someone rubbing your teeth

[kwillow]

Anon, sometimes a horn is just a horn.

[moneymartin]

・❥・- after the storm

summary: you meet kate at a bar after you get stood up on a date ♡

warnings: none rlly. more fluffy than smutty. also rlly awkward kate cuz shes nervy :( use of y/n if that counts???

rpf. dont read if ur uncomfy

a/n: this has been in my fucking drafts for a week. also thank god i revised cuz this thing sucked before i proofread it 😭 same like every story every divider is a skip. also sorry for ending it like that i jus like leaving it up to everyone’s imagination 😇

you sit quietly at a table, a drink in your hand and at least 4 empty beer bottles in front of you. drunk and somewhat confused after some stupid guy stood you up on a date here. at least 3 hours have passed since he was meant to come, but you couldn’t suck it up and leave the club without the embarrassment of coming in alone, and walking out alone. it was fucking embarrassing and that always made you wanna hurl. everything did now.

everyone was meant to find someone or do something with someone tonight but you were certainly checked off of that list. things haven’t gone your way in forever and this is probably the worst one. now you’re just drowning yourself in alcohol and digging a deep hole you probably won’t be able to get out of. scanning around for a way to get your butt out of here, or just find a waiter, you’re suddenly stopped when you make eye contact with a girl. she’s got the prettiest blue eyes you’ve ever seen, and she’s coming your way.

“hey,” she spits out and smiles, taking a seat in front of you. it makes you a little nervous and frankly, you’re quite scared. “i’m kate…” her hand extends outwards towards you, expectantly waiting for a handshake and an introduction back. the fear you felt when she sat down just a moment suddenly dissipates and is replaced with a feeling of relief when your hand meets hers. “y/n.” you slur out, breath slightly reeking of alcohol. it doesn’t reel her away but makes her grow a little bit worried.

“thats um.. a lotttt of beers.” kate laughs, hoping to bring up the mood and energy that surrounds you. you’re obviously not happy, but she’s trying to make it seem like whatever happened isn’t as bad as you think it is. “y’know, being all drink and alone in a club like this isn’t very safe,” she starts and shakes her head slightly. “especially when it’s a pretty girl like you.” your eyebrows raise at her slip in of a compliment, face flushing and your lips pursing. she’s already incredibly bold, but there’s a glint in her eyes that shows how shes really feeling about this interaction.

you notice that she’s slightly nervous and that her movements and small jitters make it known that she is incredibly awkward. when you don’t answer back to her compliment, she smiles weirdly with her teeth and looks around the club, then at your face again. theres a pause as you let out a breath and just stare. “i’m sorry, what?” your voice is raspy still, and the music is straight over your voice which makes it harder for her to hear you. but the way your eyebrows raise and your eyes nearly pop out of your head makes her put the pieces together about what you felt about her ‘boldness.’

“it was nothing! i didn’t mean that…” she laughs and rubs the back of her neck and then digs her nails into her arm. kate’s teeth grind together and she inhales a deep breath, trying to play it cool when she knows deep down she’s dug herself into a big stupid hole she can’t get out of. “i’m just saying it isn’t safe, y’know!! not a good idea to be alone.” her voice goes up an octave and her body tenses up when you lock eyes with hers. yikes. “i can take you home to like.. help you sober up?”

her proposal makes your face scrunch at the thought of it. a stranger you met not even 10 minutes ago offering to take you to your home so you can sober up. really? “you’re not some serial killer, right?!!! i really don’t wanna end up in a ditch tonight cause that’d make everything worse!!” you blurt out just a little bit louder than you should’ve. kate gets the sudden urge to just smack her hand right over your mouth after you two get looks from people inside. “oh, god, no! what the hell?! i’m just trying to help you. so, please let me.” she begs and grabs your hand, locking her fingers with yours to calm down the drunken nerves in your system.

“okay..” you sigh, realizing just how desperate she is to talk to you. that is what it is. she just wants to talk to you, and shes trying her absolute hardest to make it seem like shes just going to help you out. kate pulls you up from the chair and wraps her arms around your waist, steadying your drunk and wobbly body. “i got you, alright?”

your body sinks into the couch after you somehow managed to guide her to your place. it took a little longer than it should’ve. the club was only 5 minutes away from your place but the whole trip took about 20 minutes. different streets and different roads and different alleyways.

“how’d you end up alone in there anyways?” kate asks, dabbing the back of her hand against your face to feel for a fever. your face is flush and you feel the rush of embarrassment coming back when her question finally registers in your head. it was the one thing you didn’t wanna talk about with her tonight. not because it was bad, it was just the fact that it was incredibly embarrassing. “got stood up.”

her eyebrows scrunch at the reasoning you give her while a pit grows in your stomach due to the look on her face. she looks like she wants to leave all of a sudden but its quickly replaced with a soft smile when she sees how you feel talking about it. “things happen for a reason, no?” kate says and smirks. she has a point though. maybe you got stood up on that date because you were bound to find her? that was dumb to think about. but it might’ve been true.

“yeah, i guess.”

“guys come and go. its not like it’ll happen again too. you’re very pretty.”

“you think so?”

“i know so.”

kate’s bold statements and words make you wonder if she really does mean them. and for some reason, you’re hoping that she does. her hands are shaky against your face and she shifts around the space on the couch to keep you comfortable instead of herself. she’s putting your needs in front of her own needs. you take in a heavy breath, looking up at kate while she stares at you longingly. “there’s obviously a reason why you wanted to help me.” you giggle.

her jaw slacks at your accusation, her face suddenly becoming a deep red. “no, c’mon! t- thats not true!” kate stammers over her own words and turns her head to the side to hide her face from you. you reach out to grab her wrist and tug her down towards you. her eyes look like they’re about to pop out of her skull and shes got a nervous frown on her face.

the confidence she manages to build up always crumbles in just a matter of seconds after you say something back. she likes that, and it makes her nervous in such a good way. “oh yeah?” you question and slide your hands up to her shoulders. your fingers wrap around her hoodie neckline, gripping tightly. “yes!” you know that she’s lying. theres an obvious reason why she offered in the first and you know exactly what it is.

“then show me why you really wanted to help.”

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Chapter 12 lets gooo!)

The audacity of this fish! Eyelids still heavy, brain still longing to go back to sleep. Shooting the meanest glare he could muster at the fish, hoping desperately that his displeasure would be received as intended. Untangling himself from the curtain, Danny rubbed his face. The folds of the fabric imprinted on his cheek leaving a pink mark that was quickly fading with his continued consciousness.

Danny pulled a peeper out of his makeshift freezer. Thankfully, it was still frozen. At least some aspects of his powers stayed the same. Sucking in a deep breath chilled water trickled through the gaps between his fingers, peeper going limp in his hands. His little workstation lacked a stove, a massive oversight on his part, but an understandable one since he didn’t have nearly enough materials to make a stable oven. The only thing he could make at the moment was an explosive hazard that’d cook anything in a five-foot radius to a charred crisp.

Charred Danny was a limited-time special dish, cooked via portal, and was unfortunately out of season forever. Like a discontinuation of tuna-flavored Oreos, nobody would be sad about it not being available. Surely, his fishy stalker would prefer him burnt like a marshmallow, but Danny isn't willing to indulge that preference. If he was going to be eaten, you bet your ass he’d be making this unpleasant for both of them.

Sheesh, he needed to find that guy's name. Or give him a new one. An insult wouldn’t do. Names had to mean something. This isn't a DND game, he can't just use a fantasy name generator and call it a day. No, this name had to be cool, not another “Inviso-Bill” scenario. His legs almost gave out in despair at the thought of being the one to give someone a name so stupid! He hadn’t done anything to deserve a punishment like that. Sure, his whole tapping routine was a migraine and a half, but he hadn’t done any harm. Even when Danny attacked him, he didn’t do anything, despite the fact he could’ve killed Danny with a single swipe from those razor-sharp claws.

Gritting his teeth at the thought of dying a third time in such an embarrassing way, he glanced down at the floppy fish still in his hands. Completely inedible, but Danny was getting pretty hungry at this point. Finding the strength to freeze the damn fish was difficult enough, he couldn’t just shoot lasers out his eyes and suddenly have a fully cooked peeper in his hands! All they had right now was the fabricator… Ugh, he scrunched his nose at the thought, but really, there were no other options for him at the moment. Oh, the ways humanity suffered for survival. Reluctantly giving the thawed peeper to cook, Danny began brainstorming names.

More information would be needed, he couldn’t just name him based on nothing! Swiping back to the fish guy’s databank, Danny studied it thoroughly. According to the PDA, this guy’s DNA was spliced, altered. Not in the getting electrocuted to death sense, but the genetically modified as an embryo kind of way. A perfectly functional hybrid between two unknown species that Danny guessed shouldn’t have been able to breed. But regardless, they came together to make this behemoth of a creature who looked as if he crawled through the deepest depths of hell just to scratch his freaking window.

!!!

He was going to call this guy Dami, short for damnation. It wasn’t an insult, it was cool! Danny would have died a third time to have been given a name as cool as that! Anything would’ve been better than Invis-o-bill. If Dami turned out to be the one who set up the ecto dampener he’d take back his cool nickname.

With a loud ding, Danny’s attention is brought back to his breakfast, now steaming at the fabricator. A small temperature warning flashed on his PDA the tablet setting a timer to let the fish cool down. If this had been any other food Danny might’ve been offended. The true way to eat something hot was to stuff it in your mouth and breathe out steam like a dragon while your taste buds burned! But this was fish, and a fish cooked by a fabricator no less. It was sure to taste like chemicals and Danny wasn’t looking to prolong the experience by choking on said chemical-tasting fish.

So he listened to the PDA if only to avoid a Skynet situation. It might just be data corruption but the AI seemed to be at the end of its rope. Remembering this AI had the choice to kill him with misinformation, messing with it further wasn’t the best idea. He’d toe the line of trolling, but ignoring it now felt like an invitation for it to short-circuit in his hands.

When the timer went off, Danny snatched the fish off the fabricator. The fish was still warm in his hands as he tore into it. Flaky, a faint, ashy aftertaste, barely noticeable if you hadn’t expected the off taste. Gutting the fish took away most of the artificial taste. Who knew vaporizing bones, organs, and tendons could fuck over any kind of palatability? Lasers sterilized the meat, giving it a hint of Space salmonella wasn’t a disease anyone was eager to catch. Maybe he’d get an award for his discovery but he’d rather not be sick with an alien infection when medical knowledge was as limited as it was now. Access to the intergalactic network was pretty much non-existent. They were out of the space confederation reach, meaning he was completely and utterly screwed if he caught anything serious.

What could bandages do for food poisoning? A whole lot of nothing, that’s what! They could only hope a doctor survived the crash and they could find them before any significant injuries happened. … Significant injuries to other survivors, that is. Danny’s going to fight a big ass fish!

Launching himself out the hatch seaglide in hand, Danny began circling Dami. His gigantic tail dragged against the sand, and he could only wonder how he got here in the first place. The shallows were too small for him to be a native. His body was built for the extreme pressures of water up to 8156 meters deep. His preferred environment should be as deep as deep should go. The probable pressure difference between the shallows and Dami’s home habitat was tremendous! It can't be healthy for him to be this close to the surface. Is this a beached whale situation? Did the crash damage his home?

With a databank incomplete, answering any important questions became increasingly difficult. Alterra’s handheld scanner was built to understand the basics. Deeper scans could show him the most complex parts of his biology. If he could build a beefier scanner, it would make things so much easier for him.  Designing a table was several difficulty levels below designing a scanner that could record a species' entire makeup at a molecular level.  Mistakingly blasting a poor, unsuspecting fish with radiation just to understand how this leviathan functioned would end poorly for both of them. It was easy for him to forget Dami's a teenager for his species. If he went around taking bone, blood, and muscle samples, not only would he feel bad but he'd probably be disemboweled by Dami's mom or Dad. While he's willing to throw hands with Dami, a 3v1 wouldn't be fair for the leviathans.  Observation was what his self-preservation limited him to, and if this species happened to be one who liked getting into fights? That was a free blood sample right there. All he had to do now was stop him from destroying the coral tubes

Danny darted underneath Dami’s tail, the fish jolting backward, pulling his tail with him. Gritting his teeth, Danny continued to chase Dami’s tail, bringing the large fish closer and closer to the deeper grassy plateaus. Like dancing, a swing from Danny's blade triggers his partner into the right moves. Of course, the right moves were away from his fucking base!  Dami might mean well, but in the end, he was scaring the bladderfish and destroying the shallows with his sheer mass!

Swinging one last time, Dami finally got the memo and swam a small distance away. Not quite close enough to see his entire base, but close enough for Danny to see him through the window. Like a kicked puppy, Dami rested his head on his arms. It almost made him feel bad, but the trail of uprooted plants and panicking fish the leviathan left in his wake canceled out any guilt.

“Caution. Continued degradation of the Aurora’s drive core may result in a quantum detonation. Continuing to monitor,”

…Shit.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet @noxcheshire

[catslvrr]

heaven sent — 00. prologue

previous | next

You were never the type to believe in superstitions.

But as you stared at the document you had open, completely blank (excluding your name) with the cursor blinking, as if mocking you, you started to seriously consider Minji’s suggestion.

(“Bro, you will not believe what happened to me today.”

“I’m not sure if I want to know,” you said, noisily slurping up your instant noodles.

“No, trust me, you do. So yesterday, I saw this post on Twitter that said if you write down a wish on a piece of paper three times, put it under your pillow, and then recite that wish at exactly 11:11, it’ll come true.”

You barely flinched as she slammed the table.

“I wished for a hundred bucks. And guess what?” She grinned smugly as she waved a bill in your face. “I found this lying on the floor before class.”

“So what?” You shrugged. “It’s just a lucky coincidence.”

“No, bro,” she whined. “It’s real. You should try it. Get yourself a girlfriend or something, you’re so grumpy all the time.”

“Even if it is true,” you glared at Minji as she reached over to eat some of your noodles. “Why would you wish for only a hundred bucks? You should’ve asked for a million dollars or something, dumbass.”

“I didn’t know it was real until today,” she puffed her cheeks, then proceeded to slam her head on the table. “I probably wasted my one wish.”

She looked up after a minute and pouted. “Can you please wish for it?”

“Find someone else to do it,” you waved your hand dismissively, making your way back to your room. “Enjoy the noodles, you scab. I’m gonna take a nap.”

“Your loss!” She called out, mouth full of (your) noodles. “I’m the one a hundred bucks richer.”)

You slumped back in your chair in defeat, running your fingers through your hair.

I’m running on two hours of sleep, and I’m never gonna finish this essay anyway. What do I have to lose?

You ripped a piece of scrap from the DoorDash takeaway bag sitting on your desk. Uncapping a pen with your teeth, you thought about what to write.

What the hell do I wish for? My essay to magically write itself? Nah, that’d be a waste of a wish.

After a few minutes of pondering, you messily scribbled three lines: ‘I want to be happy. I want to be happy. I want to be happy.’

You glanced at your laptop. Huh, it’s 11pm. Perfect timing.

You slid the note under your pillow and flopped onto your bed, scrolling through TikTok to pass the time.

As soon as the clock hit 11:11, you sat up.

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.

You sighed, scratching your head before saying,

“I want to be happy.”

Your breath hitched in anticipation.

“...”

To no one’s surprise, absolutely nothing happened. You scoffed, falling back onto the bed, rubbing your face in frustration.

Of course nothing would happen. Why did I think it would work?

You shut your eyes, feeling exhaustion wash over you. Whatever happens to that essay is up to God now.

You lay still for a few minutes, eventually tossing and turning as you tried to sleep. But all you could think about was the stupid essay. You groaned as you sat up again, grabbing your laptop.

“Fuck uni.”

At least this is my last assignment before the break.

You ended up staying up all the way to five in the morning, downing an ungodly amount of energy drinks in a desperate attempt to finish off the essay.

You woke up to the sound of I Like to Move It from Madagascar blasting in your ear.

(Minji thought it would be funny to change your alarm ringtone to it, and you never bothered to change it back.)

You groaned, flipping over to check your phone to see no new notifications. You stared vacantly at your ceiling as you contemplated your life choices.

I got one hour of sleep. Why do 7am classes exist? Whoever came up with that idea should be tried for crimes against humanity.

Eyes half open, you shuffled your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth, passing Minji’s room on the way. Her door was left ajar and she was nowhere to be seen. I’ll never understand how she wakes up every morning to go on a run.

Just as you were about to enter the bathroom, you noticed a girl in your living room. She was focused on a bookshelf, a curious expression on her face.

Who the fuck is that?

You rubbed your eyes and squinted. She was still standing there, running her fingers along the spines of the books.

I must be seriously sleep-deprived if I’m hallucinating a very pretty girl. Yeah, no, not doing this today. It’s the last class of the semester anyway. That 7am class can shove a stick up its ass.

You briskly walked back to your room and face-planted on your bed, instantly knocking out.

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[iamthecomet]

oh comet 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

20 with dew and cirrus??? (Can be any ghoulette of your choosing, I think you said earlier you’ve been feeling cumdrop so that’d be fine too!!)

bossy!Dew and needy!Ghoulette 🥵

Oh man, role reversal my belovedddd. 20. "Go on. Ride my thigh."

Dew can't remember the last time he saw Cirrus like this. Maybe never. Doesn't matter, he isn't about to start questioning things. Not when he has a lap full of her. Knees on either side of one of his skinny thighs. Her back bowed, head tipped down to rest against his collarbone. He nuzzles his nose through her dark hair, smells her jasmine shampoo, sweat, and underneath all of that, the simmering bite of heat. That's interesting. He'd ask her why him. Why she's decided to grace him with her presence when she's at her neediest. But he's pretty sure as soon as he does, it'll break the spell. And it's not every day Cirrus is nuzzling against his jaw, pressing open mouth kisses to his hammering pulse. Whispering please against his overheated skin. "Dewy," she says, voice cracking as she presses closer, digs her nose into the hinge of his jaw, rubs herself all over him like a cat trying to mark it's territory. Dew holds her close, steady, with a firm hand at the small of her back and another laced in the sweaty hair at the back of her head. Fingers pressing against her skull, rubbing, soothing he hopes. Cirrus shifts her hips, a little roll that makes her gasp. Even though the layers of their pants he can feel how warm she is. Can feel dampness soaking through into his sweatpants. She stalls, holding herself still. Like she's fighting against her own need. Desperate not to prostrate herself for Dew but already doing it. He kisses the side of her head. Tastes her desperation in the sweat there. He wants to devour her. He wonders if she'll let him. Even like this he'd be stupid to think he's actually the one in control. "Go on," he whispers into her hair, "ride my thigh. Take what you need." Her breath hitches, but her hips roll, shifting on their own accord as her fingers dig hard into his boney shoulders. He urges her forward with that hand on her back, pushing and pulling, helping her keep rhythm as she goes to work making a mess of his neck with tongue and teeth. He knows, she might just use him for this--to get off. To take the brutal edge of her heat off so she can go find someone else to actually knot her. He tries not to get his hopes up that maybe she trusts him enough now. That maybe she wants him. Either way, he won't complain about it. About the noises she makes in his ear as she grinds down on the hard ridge of his thigh. About the way she's soaking into his jeans, sure to leave a stain. Or the way her thigh rolls up to grind against his aching cock with every pass. If all he gets is to watch her cum all over his thigh? That'll be more than good enough.

[bonnibuckets]

burning | ao’nung

warnings: bully ao’nung / enemies to crush 🤭

pairings: ao’nung x fem navi (sully’s kid)

summary: you are a sully and a certain asshole has caught your eye — for better or for worse

wc: 1,975

playlist: (not in order)

flawless - the neighborhood

kiwi - harry styles

save your tears - the weekend

misery business - paramore

michelle - sir chloe

she - harry styles

still into you - paramore

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

You always were an “odd” kid they’d say. You weren’t necessarily different you just didn’t follow the quota — free spirited in a sense. You never let anyone talk down to you and you didn’t care about people’s feelings towards you, it never seemed to bother you. You also were 100% admit about boys, you swore to yourself at age 6 that’d you never get a boyfriend or mess with boys and you followed that to heart.

—

“WHAT?!” you yelled at your mother and father as they told you and your siblings that y’all would be moving. You knew about everything that previously happened but you know you thought y’all would pull through. You stomped your foot and your tail swayed angrily, “this isn’t fair, all we’ve known is the forest” you said gritting your teeth. “i know i know baby-” jake said before you cut him off “where would we even go??” you said crossing your arms.

Your siblings were visibly upset but you spoke your mind — as always. “stop.” your dad said firmly and you sighed and looked to the ground in silence. “we are being targeted and we cannot risk anything”.

—

Then the next thing you knew y’all arrived to a water village, you and your family landed and hopped off. Y’all were tired and desperate even you, but you’d never show it. Among the crowd 3 boys came out and eyed your family, you snarled as they circled y’all. Your fraternal twin— neteyam smacked the back of your head and you death glared him while rubbing your head. Your father and mother talked to the clan’s leaders, and the boys made fun of y’all.

Then the tsahìk insulted your brother “they have demon blood!” and you saw red, “we’re no different than you” you grumbled holding back. You knew how badly y’all needed this but you couldn’t just let them disrespect you and your family.

After they talked they decided to teach us, or technically their son ao’nung and daughter tsireya. You definitely didn’t want to learn from the asshole bully, but your dad told you otherwise and you have been pushing your luck recently. So you complied and held your tongue for your family — for your people.

—

You prefer tsireya over ao’nung by a landslide, you didn’t understand how she turned out so nice and her brother is just…him. They had been teaching y’all how to become better divers, finger talk, and all about their culture.

Then one day you and kiri were on the shore and you were looking for seashells as kiri was looking at a hole in the sand. You were a little bit away from kiri as you saw ao’nung and rotxo and you immediately ran over but it was too late. “he said are you some kind of freak?” rotxo said laughing looking at ao’nung. Then you grabbed kiri’s hand “speak for yourself fishy” you growled.

“Oh look it’s big sis coming to protect little sis” ao’nung teased “damn straight” you spat as you put kiri behind you. They circled y’all “you aren’t even true navi! look at your fingers!” you smiled and flicked him off — like your brother neteyam you had 3 fingers. “suck on that bitch” you laughed “maybe you have normal fingers but your sister doesn’t”. “doesn’t matter” you snapped eyeing him up and down.

The sight of him enraged you, you never have met someone so rude and so cocky. “look at them they have baby tails!” rotxo laughed “hey!” you heard lo’ak come to y’all’s “rescue”. You clenched your jaw as they made fun of him too and then neteyam came in and told them to basically fuck off and they did — ish. “they’re all freaks the whole family” they whispered and lo’ak whipped his head around. You knew exactly what was going to happen and you sighed mentally preparing yourself for a fight.

Then lo’ak punched ao’nung and you snorted “it’s called a punch bitch!”. Then all hell broke loose and you jumped into the fight, punching, scratching, and biting. Then your hair got pulled by ao’nung “let go fucker!” you yelped and lo’ak and neteyam got him off you. Kiri just sat and watched rolling her eyes as she watched her siblings fight.

Eventually y’all tired out and y’all looked rough — your hair was a complete mess and you and your brothers had matching busted lips and bleeding noses. Then big boss found out…”i tell y’all to do one thing!” your dad yelled. “stay out of trouble” y’all said in unison, “yes exactly and you can’t even do that!” he said looking at all of y’all as your head hung low. Your dad looked at you in the eyes “now i except this shit from those two knuckleheads but you— no ma’am you’re better than this i’m disappointed”.

Your heart sunk and tears threatened to fall, you hated when your dad said he was disappointed. You could handle him being mad, but disappointed was different. “yes sir” you said clutching your hands into fists. “go apologize right now” you immediately whipped your head up and was about to talk back before your dad held his hand up “i don’t care just go make peace”. You grumbled as you walked off and neteyam stayed behind a little then joined you and lo’ak.

“he wants peace? i’ll give him the fucking ocean” you laughed.

—

As more time passed the more you fucking hated ao’nung and his face, his stupid smirk, head tilts and looks, the way he looked at you is what you hated the most. It felt like he was eating you with his eyes and it made you uncomfortable. You didn’t know how to handle these emotions, they were too much. Especially because they were about a boy — a stupid ignorant boy.

—

“hey freak keeper” ao’nung called you, “what do you want?” you groaned as you were weaving a necklace. “oh nothing just wondering where your freak siblings are” you gritted your teeth and looked at him in the eyes. You saw he was smirking— then it clicked. He was doing this to get a reaction out of you. You calmed yourself down and stood up, “i don’t know why your obsessed with me and my family” you said condescendingly. “but you need a new hobby dear” you chuckled hoping he’d feel stupid.

Little did you know your words hit his heart and made him blush lightly. He didn’t know why that got him, he thought you were equally a freak.

“yea whatever” he said before walking away defeated.

—

More incidents similar to those kept happening and it became a game to you, you starting hoping you’s see ao’nung so you could make a fool out of him. Or maybe you wanted to see him for a different reason? You were also oblivious to the eyes on you — constantly.

—

You arrived late to dinner and there wasn’t many people left. You sat down and ate at the campfire, you scanned who was around and saw ao’nung by himself. You quickly looked away shoving fish into your mouth, you hoped he didn’t see you. Although it was too late ao’nung was staring hard. He was looking how your skin was glowing at night with the fire light. He felt his face burning and his heart racing — he knew he shouldn’t and that made him want you even more. He thought you were a freak, but your freak ass had him falling.

You felt his eyes on you and you got up and left to go eat by the water. “hey!” you groaned and turned around with your mouth full. “wha?” you said “ew don’t talk with your mouth full” ao’nung said scrunching up his nose. “bleeehhhh” you said sticking your tongue out with your food and he freaked out making you laugh so hard you started choking on your food and ao’nung laughed while hitting your back and then you were fine.

Y’all kept laughing trying to calm down “you s-shouldve seen your face!” you laughed, “I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO DIE!!” he said flustered. You slapped his back and held onto him as you kept laughing trying to calm yourself. “oh my that’s so funny” you said finally done with your fit of laughter. Your cheeks were sore from smiling, and you noticed he was staring. He was blushing and you felt your cheeks burn “what?” you said fixing your hair.

“nothing” he smiled shaking his head “i gotta go but i’ll see you later yea?”. He was being nice and it was — suspicious. Then he walked away and your heart skipped a beat, ‘no nun-uh absolutely not!’ you thought to yourself. You gently slapped your face to bring yourself back “absolutely not” you whispered to yourself before walking to bed.

—

You tossed and turned in your bed not being able to sleep, you groaned and sat up. You only had one thing on your mind and it was driving you crazy — ao’nung. You got up and walked to the beach and sat down in the sand and looked up at the stars “eywa why me, you know i don’t like messing with boys…but if it’s you that i dunno brought him to me then i can’t ignore you but i’m scared…” you sighed playing with the sand. “scared of what?” you jumped and turned around “jeez you scared me!” you said to ao’nung.

“What are you doing here?” he said tilting his head to the side, “i could ask the same thing” you said looking up at him. He then sat beside you and y’all looked out at the water, the moonlight was illuminating y’all. “Ao’nung..” you trailed off “yes?” he said turning his head looking at you and you brought your head up looking at him. Your face went red and your heart was racing “you..fuck uh” you said looking away covering your mouth. He chuckled “come on spit it out” he said lightly nudging you.

“It’s complicated…” you said bringing your knees to your chin. “I’m listening” your heart swelled ‘tell him’ you thought. You were so scared of these new feelings, and you were even more scared to say them out loud because once you did that meant they had to be true. You inhaled deeply before saying “AO’NUNGITHINKIMIGHIKEYOUIDON’TKNOWTHISISMYFIRSTTIMEHAVINGACRUSHANDI’MSCAREDYOUDON’TFEELTHESAME!” you quickly said before burying your face into your hands to hide your bright red blush.

Ao’nung blinked 3 times before smiling and laughing “what are you laughing at?!” you said almost crying. He saw and immediately stopped and held your face “nonono i’m sorry! i do feel the same, it’s just you’re too cute” he said kissing your cheek. A tear rolled down your face and he freaked out and you laughed wiping it away. “I’m glad you feel the same because if you didn’t i think i would’ve drowned myself” y’all both laughed. Ao’nung then softly smiled and grabbed your hand “i promise i’ll do my best to make you happy and protect you”.

You smiled and cupped his face with your other hand “i don’t need saving but i appreciate it” you said kissing his forehead. Then you scooted close up to him and laid your head on his shoulder listening to the sounds all around y’all.

“Now what?” he said “shush just stay here with me and look at the stars dummy.”

— [Fin]

a/n: damiandanster requested this on my wattpad because i use both and post the literal same imagines. but i’m feeling more angst im feeling BETRAYAL 😈

[cevans-is-classic]

18+ only! Sexual content, blood, death, questionable morals when Max is involved. Did I mention blood?

My masterlist

Pedro Pascal

Two years, six days and 8 hours ago, you walked into your boss’s office expecting to be fired. It’d only been a few months since you started, but the changeover was hectic, and standards of working slipped through the cracks. 

The fact this was your first corporate job didn’t help. They had hired you under the referral of your old roommate. The idea was a long shot, but you got the job. The hours were long, and the pay was shit, but you didn’t have to sweat your ass off or wear a name tag. 

Overall, being employed at Acla’s Pharmaceuticals wasn’t bad. 

Didn’t mean you wouldn’t get fired for forgetting a coma in paperwork, though. 

Which led to you being called to Max Phillips’ office. Your flats were rubbing against your heel as you walked. The smell of desperation and stale coffee clogged your nose, and, for the life of you, finding his office was impossible. 

The mental math of your budget and bills ran through your head at top speeds. Thoughts of ramen packets and macaroni and cheese blended with your cat’s brand of food. You could afford to feed yourself or your cat for the next three months and, let’s be real, your cat wins. 

Knocking on the door felt wrong. It echoed. 

Your stomach twisted when Mr. Phillips shouted for you to come in. 

It twisted again when you saw blood all over his desk, covering his tie and dripping from the pen in his hand. You wouldn’t say it looked like a massacre. That’d be extreme, but a solid murder was possible. 

Was the blood his? 

Did he mean to call janitorial and got you instead? 

Was that possible? You were in claims which, yes, sucked, but wasn’t near the cleaning crew was it? 

(Not that anything’s wrong with the cleaning crew. You simply hated vacuuming and there seems to be carpet in a lot of places here.) 

Max smiled when he noticed you. 

“Ah, there you are.” The blood dripped off the pen, splattering over paperwork. 

“Um, you needed me Mr. Phillips?”

His smile tilted as he shook his head. “Please, call me Max.” 

“Sorry Mr-.” You paused, “Uh, Max.” 

He rose to his feet, the tie swinging across his white shirt. When you glanced down at it, he followed your gaze and huffed out a laugh. 

“Yes,” He dabbed the tie with his fingers, “You must be wondering why I asked for you.” 

That’s an understatement. 

Did he need an alibi? 

Could you be an alibi? How long were you at work? 

“I was talking to Janet, your office manager. She says quite a few things about you.” His smile widened. “All good things, of course. One thing she mentioned really stuck out. You were a medic, right?” 

You’re not sure if a medic could handle this. How many bandaids did he need?

“Uh,” You tried to look away from the bloody handprint he left when he stepped around the desk, “Not really. I trained in phlebotomy, but had to quit when my sister got sick.” 

Another smile, all teeth, “You worked with blood though, right?” 

“That’s the whole point of phlebotomy.” The words left your mouth before you could stop them. 

Max’s smile faded, dripping with blood. He rounded the desk to lean against it, his arms crossed, the red under his fingernails left marks on his suit. 

You were getting fired and, possibly, blamed for murdering someone. 

When Max burst into laughter, it startled you. “Ah, excellent, a sense of humor. That’s what we like around here, Sugar. People who can dish out as good as they get. Did you know Patrick Chambers in HR once did a standup routine for the Christmas party? Guy has the laughs.” 

“I bet.” Jesus, shut up. 

Max clapped his hands together. “Anyway, I was hoping you’d help me with something.” 

When he pushed away from the desk, his foot kicked out, dragging your gaze down and- “That’s a head.” 

“Yes, it is, and you, Sugar, are going to help me keep that from happening.” Once more he smiled, canines extended.

“I’m not being fired?” 

Max winked. “Promoted more like it.” 

Two years, 6 days and 9 hours ago they handed you an NDA with a contract to help Max attain blood donations without killing (sometimes) people. 

(He still killed people, you learned, but only when they didn’t meet their quarterly goals) 

Since that day, you’ve spent hours on end in the man’s office with bags of blood being loaded into a built in cooler. Max wanted to throw them in all at once, but the blood was fragile. You had to make sure they stayed hanging and didn’t congeal before you could store them. Max had a penchant for B+ which meant you had to organize the other types as backups. 

Now and then you got stuck sitting in the office's corner as he held a stranger against the desk and bit down. 

“Nothing beats the fresh stuff, Sugar.” He’d aim a finger gun at you.

“You’re going to run out of suits if you keep it up on the clock.” You’d slip his dry cleaning receipt towards him. 

He’d given you three days off a week. Those three days you lived by a schedule of importance. 

Grocery shopping (vegetarian meals don’t last long) 

Bills (Max pays you a pretty penny) 

Therapy

Therapy is important. 

You’d been worried about the mental trauma you experienced every day working for Max. What gets brought up the most is your inability to form proper boundaries. 

“Your boss expects a lot of you.” Kathryn hums, her eyes focused on yours. 

“The vacation days are wonderful.” They really are. You could take your sister and three friends to San Diego last year for a week and afford to splurge your heart’s content. 

Sometimes, when you’re sitting across from your therapist you think about walking into Max’s office and finding another dead body. You think about the blood covering his suit, coating his hair, the way the air had a copper taste to it. It’d cross your mind faster than a hamster wheel and you always had the same reaction.

Indifference. 

Which, honestly, isn’t a surprise to you. 

You say it’s amazing compartmentalization skills. Kathryn says it’s deeply rooted repression. 

Tomato, tomahto. 

All that being said, nothing would have prepared you to walk into Max’s office on this day. Your bag is heavy over your shoulder with newly bagged blood. The door opened with a squeak, reminding you to ask Hamish for some WD-40. Looking up at the hinges distracts you from the noise. 

The squelch behind your head sounding like Max draining his last baggie. 

Your mind focused intently on what needed to be refilled that it took a solid thirty seconds for you to realize what was happening. 

The flex of Max’s ass, the sharp smack of hips against hips and the muffled moans of the woman he had bent over the desk. The same tie he’d wore the day you thought he’d fire you shoved into her mouth. 

Max had his hand circling her wrist, his other hand pinning her down. 

It wasn’t the blatant and unprofessional display of sex that had your mind reeling. 

It was how good Max looked, his mouth covered in blood, trails of it following the line of his chest. He tossed his jacket and left his shirt open. His slacks pooled around his ankles and you could see the tense hold of his thighs. 

There was blood running from the woman’s neck, her chest, her legs. Max had it on his fingers, caked beneath his nails. 

The first thought that bubbled to the surface and made its way out of your mouth stunned you. “Did you finish the Carpelix file first? 

You rarely remembered the name of the new blood pressure drug. 

Unless it involved your boss’s ass, you guess. 

The woman turned her head before Max did. Her eyes half lidded, spit drowning the tie. She had a pale hue to her skin, the pallor striking next to the dark wooden desk. 

She muffled something around the tie which had Max looking over his shoulder at you. 

“You’re back early.” He fucked into her, hard, jarring the desk that held them up. 

“Traffic was light.” With that, you walked towards the cooler. 

There was only one baggie left like you expected. An O negative, his least favorite. You tried not to stock up too much on O blood types. Sometimes you didn’t get lucky enough to wrangle A or B types and Max could suck it up. Literally. 

“Did you stop for bagels?” He sounded closer. You glanced back and shook your head as he buttoned up his pants. 

The woman was squirming, her hands slipping in the blood as she lifted herself up. You raised a brow at Max who looked down at the woman and frowned. 

“Regina,” He pulled her up, “You’ve met before, right?” He waved a hand towards you, the other circling her waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder. 

The woman, Regina, squinted at you. “I don’t know.” 

You squinted yourself, looking closer as Max slid his hand up her side. He cupped her breast his thumb brushing her nipple, and she shivered.

Max tilted her chin to the side, aiming her full gaze at you. 

“Regina Mallord.” You rolled your eyes. “She rear-ended my car a few months ago.” 

He smiled, “Did she?” 

Regina was whining as Max played with her, his fingers moving across her chest, over her nipples and back. She squirmed in his hold as blood dripped down her neck. Some of it dried around her collar bone, fingerprints marking through the path. 

“If I remember correctly,” Max murmured, “Your car was in the shop for a week, right? If I also remember, you had to Uber to work.��

You rolled your eyes again, “Yes, Max. You complained about me being late for a week straight — I wasn’t late. You’re just impatient in the mornings.” 

He nips at Regina’s ear. “I really am.” There’s a moment, a single moment, where your eyes meet. 

Max winks again, slowly, his mouth stretching as his face contorts, brow scrunching. The veins along his temples darkened before he opens his mouth wide and rips Regina’s throat out. 

Both of you watch her body hit the floor with a wet crash. 

You sigh, “What was the point of that?”

Max nudges her arm with his foot, stepping over her to move closer to you. “She was in the break room when I went to clean my cup.” 

“So, you decided to fuck her then kill her?” 

He reached out, his finger tracing the line of your jaw, “I planned on only killing her, but I got a bit rowdy.” 

You swiped his hand away. “A bit?” 

Max stepped closer, leaning against the cooler, his hand coming back up to touch your necklace. “I saw her car yesterday. I recognized it from you showing me the cameras. You had to pay almost 3000 to get your car fixed.” 

“Yeah,” You didn’t swipe him away this time, let him drag a path from your neck to your jaw, “That’s what I get for forgetting to re-up my insurance.” 

Max quirked a brow. “You’re a treasure, Sugar.” 

“You say that because I don’t question,” You directed your gaze at Regina’s body, “that.” 

“Hmm, yeah.” He leaned closer, “but also because you make my day a little better.”

A spike of pleasure shot down your spine, heat curling in your belly. Max’s eyes were deep pools that crinkled when he smiled. There was an innocence to them, a puppy dog look that made it hard to tell him no. 

It’s worse when he tilts his lips into a smile and aims his attention at you. 

You’d blame it on his hypnosis abilities, but you knew the truth — Max Phillips is a gorgeous son of a bitch. People rotate between wanting to stake him in the heart or suck his dick. 

Right now, you want to do both. 

Mostly the dick part. 

The other would spill more blood and Jeffery will have a hell of a time as is. 

“Sugar,” He drew your attention back to him, “How about I take you for dinner tonight?” 

You sigh, “Max,” His eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up, “It’s Tuesday.”

“Yeah?” Another look at your lips. His tongue darts out to lick away the blood at the corner of his mouth. 

“Tomorrow is the corporate meeting.” Max frowns. 

“That’s not until July.” 

“Max,” His mouth flattens, “It is July.” 

The kiss was tangy, his lips sliding along yours. His tongue taste of blood, coffee, and something else. Something deeper. It tastes of Max. 

“Sugar,” He whispers when he pulls back, “Let me take you to dinner. It’s the least I could do for all that you do.” 

“Max.” 

“I love hearing you say my name.” He kissed you again. This kiss was deeper, harder his arm circling your waist to press you to his chest. 

What does it say about you that this was the best kiss you’ve ever had? Having Max Phillips groaning into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hip. You can feel the shift of his legs as he turned you around to press against the wall. 

The way his body fits against yours makes your knees weak. 

Your mind reeled, making you dizzy headed as he nipped at your jaw, down your neck. It was heady, heavy, the air thick around you. 

Your eyes fell on Regina’s dead body, and the kissing stopped. 

“Max.” He buries his face in your neck, “Max.” You push at his shoulder. 

He sighs, “Yes?” 

You aim your gaze at the corpse. “She’s staining the carpet.” 

Max barks out a laugh loud enough that it startles you. 

“We’ll finish this tonight, yeah? For now, you mind calling the cleaning staff and make sure Jeffery brings more than one bag.” 

Two years, 6 days and 10 hours since you thought you were going to be fired, and you had a date with your boss and call for a body clean up. 

Yay.

I have a whole thing with Max killing people for reader 🤨

[lipringlrh]

food poisoning - lrh

summary: you have food poisoning and luke is more than happy to look after you

an: this is a dodgy little thing to get me back into writing. i’ve been really ill recently so i think that inspired it a little, it’s not the greatest but it’s also currently quarter to 4 in the morning when i’m writing this so i’m thriving

word count: ~1100

pairings: luke hemmings x genderneutral!reader

request: here

warnings: friends to implied-but-not-yet lovers, readers hair is long enough to grab at the back, sick, emetophobia, swear words (fuck, shit), pet names, gagging, blasphemy? (oh god no), shitty ending but could maybe have a part2?, crappy title

my masterlist

feedback + constructive criticism is appreciated, requests are open

…

“i think you gave me fucking food poisoning, lu,” you spoke as you gagged again, heaving into the toilet. You were beginning to cry - you hated being sick: you rarely got insanely drunk, were careful what you ate was made properly, and made sure to keep away from anyone who’d been recently sick, all to avoid the slightest chance of you throwing up.

Luke, your best friend, knew this, and, whilst hearing someone be sick wasn’t his favourite sound, he sat behind you, perched on the corner of the bath, holding your hair in a fist at the back of your head. He was rubbing careful motions into your shoulders - trying to ease you, even in the slightest. He was never a fan of taking care of people but would do it in a heartbeat for you. If you showed signs of even the slightest incapability of being able to do something, Luke was there, instantly, ready to look after you. “It hurts so bad, lu.”

He drew back at the sound of you gagging again, now noticing the tears in your eyes. “Oh, i know, angel, i know, i’m so sorry,” he paused, he was never the best at comforting people but wanted to try his best for you, “only a little longer and it might just go away.”

You turned your head slightly up towards him, finishing wiping your mouth with toilet roll, dropping it in the toilet. “I just want it to stop.” From this angle, his hand was slightly pulling on your hair, which made you realise he was actually there, watching you spill your guts into a toilet,

“Oh God, this is embarrassing- shit lu, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t care, you’re sick, and you need me- kind of cute really.” He moved his hands onto your back, rubbing slow circles, “in sickness and in health, right?”

“Luke, we’re not married.” He smiled at you, moving to gather a bit of hair that’d fallen in your face. He laughed lightly before whispering, “maybe one day, no one knows,”

You were silent for a moment, making faces like you were about to speak, but you couldn’t find the words. You were about to comment until the man of the hour beat you to it, “and look at that, that’s a solid- what, 2 minutes of not throwing up? That’s definitely todays record. Do you feel any better, sweetheart, or notice any differences at all?”

You flushed the toilet, turning back to him, resting against the seat, “hurts a little less now, I don’t think I’m going to throw up again soon.” It wasn’t a lie - you knew you would throw up again, but not right now; you just needed sleep at the moment, and Luke.

He gently moved your head up from the seat, “oh sweetheart, don’t rest there, are you tired? If you don’t think you’ll throw up we can lie down, I’ll leave a bucket by the bed in case of emergencies.” He stopped a moment, making the decision for you, “okay, come on, love, let’s get you to bed. Let’s- let’s clean your teeth so you don’t feel all disgusting, let’s change your shirt- you can borrow mine, and we could maybe cuddle? I heard that always helps when you’re ill.”

You began getting up, leaning on him for support. Nothing felt better than being in his arms, except for the fact you didn’t want to make him feel like he’s stuck with a sick person. He watched your face, noticing the uneasiness, “or you could just sleep alone? Sorry, yeah, I bet alone sounds better-”

“Luke.”

“Mhm.”

“You can stay- please can you just hold me for bit?”

He nodded, smiling gently, tightening his arms around you, holding you up. He watched you as you brushed your teeth, not moving his arms from you, wanting you to know you’re in safe hands.

Once you finished, he gave you his shirt, turning around as you put it on, not wanting to cross boundaries. He basically carried you into bed, making sure you were okay with each move. He was so gentle with you, not wanting to hurt or harm you in any way. You felt the amount he truly cared radiating off of him, and hoped one day to be able to prove to him the same.

He led you into bed, pushing you over to sleep on your left side because apparently “that will keep the stomach acid down.” He never joined you, but before you could protest, he pressed his lips into your temple, whispering, telling you he’s getting you a drink and a bucket so to just keep your eyes closed.

Not long after, he came back. Your eyes were still closed and you felt as if you could pass out at any moment. You heard him place the bucket at your side of the bed, before feeling the bed dip and him moving in front of you.

“Whenever you can, drink, okay sweetheart? But only slow sips, you’re going to get dehydrated which won’t help at all.” You nodded into him, moulding your body into his side, your legs on top of him. Luke didn’t mind at all - he wanted you comfortable, and if that meant laying on top of him, then he really couldn’t complain.

Your head was pressed into the crook of his neck, trying to gain as much warmth as you could. His hands reached into your hair, slowly massaging your scalp, easing you into sleep.

You were so extremely grateful for the blonde man. No matter what, he was there for you in unimaginable ways. He had a strong hold on your heart - protecting it from anyone else yet holding it like water. He was so delicate, so careful, never letting any of you slip away from him, and it had you completely weak and infatuated with him.

He could tell you were falling asleep, he knew the signs after admiring your face for countless nights. His hand moved to your cheek, drenching you in affection, placing one last kiss on the crown of your head, causing you to press yourself into him that little bit further.

“Thank you, lu, love you.” And at that instant he felt full. In whatever sense you meant it, his heart swelled with euphoria. Even if you didn’t love him how he loved you, he felt it would be a pleasure to get his heart broken by you.

His gripped tightened once more as he brushed his knuckles against your cheek, “I love you too, angel, so much.”

____

feedback + constructive criticism is appreciated, requests are open

[montammil]

This is a little self-indulgent, but I wrote more about past Lawrence and Nathan, since I really just felt like writing for them.

CW: Parental/creepy whumper, violence, decapitation (almost, but wasn’t acted on), infantilizing behavior, descriptions of injuries, mentioned murder, death wish

He flinches back when he hears the footsteps come down the stairs. This was the fourth time he cursed Lawrence out, and Lawrence really didn't hold back this time. Nathan doesn't need nor want to see himself, knowing he's covered head to toe in bruises and dried blood. He has no idea how long he's even been down here, but he'll never miss Lawrence's company.

The footsteps stop. Nathan glares up, to see Lawrence standing over him, looking completely emotionless. Bastard.

A hand goes to his hair, forcing his head up. He doesn't falter, just narrows his eyes further. He can barely see the man with how his left eye is swollen shut.

"When are you gonna just give in?" Lawrence sighs. "Does it really hurt your pride that much?"

Nathan smiles bitterly. "I think your pride is more hurt than mine. I'm not the one locking someone in a basement because they wouldn't call me 'dad.'"

Lawrence actually winces at that. "You're a smart boy, Nathan, you know it's more than that. If you want to call me by my name, I won't get angry, but it's different when you curse at me. That was incredibly disrespectful."

Growling, Nathan tries to stand up, only to remember that his arms are pulled into place by ropes. "Let me guess. You want an apology?"

"That'd be very nice, yes. If you're the big boy you're always claiming you are."

"Well I only have one thing to say to you, Cross. Fuck. You."

Lawrence scowls. "I am so tired of your brattiness." He lets go of Nathan's hair and stomps over to a duffel bag he apparently brought with him. He digs through it for a couple of unsettling seconds and then pulls out a hatchet. Nathan never once thought he'd go this far, and for a brief moment, fear flashes in his eyes.

Nathan pulls against the ropes desperately, kicking his legs which are also tied together. He tries thrashing even more when Lawrence is hovering back over him, snarling, "Get the fuck away from me!"

Lips curl into a snarl. "Talk to me like that one more time and I'll cut your tongue off."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You're fucking crazy. What do you plan to do to me? Kill me? I'm not scared of you." He keeps his glare, but his bluff is faltering, given he'd much rather not be bludgeoned with a hatchet.

At that, Lawrence laughs. "Oh, kiddo. There's worse things than death." He gets behind Nathan and pushes him with a single light kick to the floor. Nathan grits his teeth as his face meets the floor. He cranes his head to look behind him, gasping when Lawrence is eyeing his hands.

"Don't," Nathan rasps, "don't you dare."

He hums. "Well, if I'm nothing but a 'bastard' and 'asshole' to you, I guess this wouldn't be out of character for me, right? If only if you saw me as your dad would I have sympathy for you... oh, well."

Nathan thinks he's bluffing, but the moment he feels the blade dig into his arms, right below his elbows, he caves. "Fine! Fine, stop! Dad!"

The blade pauses, hardly but still poking into his skin. "That wasn't very convincing."

"I said..." Nathan curses to himself, and tries his hardest to sound as sincere as he can. He doesn't know if Lawrence is just toying with him, or really wants something sincere, but he'd rather toss aside his pride for a few seconds if he can keep his hands. "I said... stop, Dad. Please. I'm... I'm sorry."

What does Lawrence expect at this point? A fucking Oscar-worthy performance?

Lawrence pulls the hatchet from his arms and instead to his hands. Nathan squeezes his eyes shut and tenses, only to feel the rope swiftly get cut off. He would lunge for Lawrence, but considering he's still holding the item he nearly lost his hands to, he decides its not worth it to even look at the man. He simply sits up on the ground, rubbing his sore wrists.

Predictably, Lawrence grins. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He laughs at the tears poking out of Nathan's eyes. "Aww, would you look at that. I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't mean to scare you so much. As long as you behave, we can avoid these silly little arguments in the future. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Nathan has never wanted to kill someone so badly. He opens his mouth to tell Lawrence to go fuck himself, and then snaps it shut to try to think of something, anything that won't get him screwed over again.

"Thank y-you... I'm sorry."

Ruffling his hair, Lawrence coos, "You already said you were sorry, kiddo, I'm not angry anymore. You're forgiven. Let's get out of here, I didn't realize it was so cold."

Nathan reluctantly takes his hand, happy he at least has a hand to use. He can't wait to put them both to use one day, when he can murder Lawrence.

One can only dream.

[hyperionswrath-a]

@destiny-bonded​​ || ✽ 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐔 || unprompted

He was never a fan of waiting around  —  now of all times especially. Being on the same side of the Heartless, or rather… the witch that controlled them, while it had its perks, still left him uneasy, knowing what they were capable of. What they could do. His heart clenches in his chest as he recalls Kairi’s deathly stilled form, trapped in a wake-less sleep from her lack of a heart  —  unable to wake up. The youth balls his fists up at his side as he continues to stubbornly pace, hoping that eventually he’d come up with an idea to throw the Old Hag’s way, one that’d help push their plans along to get what he wanted sooner or at the very least, get him out there to try searching himself.

She was vague. Frustratingly so. He didn’t trust her… but he had no other choice,  &  with his options limited at best here, he needed to tread lightly but listen if he wanted to save Kairi.

A sound of irritation leaves him when thoughts drift to his former friend, to Sora  &  the new gaggle of people he surrounded himself with, replaced him & Kairi with so soon. Teeth press together firmly, coming to a stop as he crosses his arms over his chest, shield like almost in a defensive way. He doesn’t hear the sounds of someone or something approaching, too wound up in his whirling storm of thoughts as he glares into the ground below.

So much for seeing the worlds together…

The constant, yet low buzz in the back of his head would drive him insane one day, he was sure of it. But there was no escaping it, no ridding himself from it, no matter how much he tried to align the contradicting pictures and voices swirling inside of his mind, sometimes louder, sometimes quiter. The only thing he could do was follow, focus on his duty, and eventually, she would let him dream again - that she had promised. ”Oh, my loyal knight, Seifer…               The― …is… ― The sorceress is alive...                   The sorceress d―… demands. Find the ―         … Lunati―              … seven princesses… Grunting, he lifted a hand, rubbing at his forehead as the voices once more began to overlap, pinching his eyes closed in an attempt to ward off a wave of nausea before the noise finally started to subside. Right… the princesses. He was tasked to find them and bring them here, along with the boy he was assigned to train. Fulfilling his own duty as her knight, and furthering her plans to fight… who exactly? It didn’t matter. He had sworn his loyalty to the sorceress and he would not disappoint. Not this time. Steering his steps through the dark halls of Hollow Bastion, emerald eyes wandered over dark corners, scanning the area for both the creatures her powers kept at bay, as well as for a certain, silver-haired youth. It was time they made their next move, and from what he had seen so far, Riku was eager to do the very same. Hearing a sound from around the corner, Seifer closed in on the direction it had emitted from, sure enough seeing the kid in question pacing one of the corridors in a display of frustration. Sometimes he eerily reminded him of himself. Not making any effort to be particularly quiet in his approach, Riku still seemed too lost in whatever thoughts kept him occupied to notice, prompting the tall blond to stop rather close behind the younger one as he crossed his arms over his broad chest and quirked a brow. “Not paying attention to your surroundings can get you killed pretty fast, you know?” Baritone voice rang through the deafening silence of the Bastion as he considered the silver-haired youth with a mixture of his usual air of provocation and inquiry. What kept him so occupied that he didn’t even notice someone like him approaching? Seifer wasn’t exactly the epitome of stealth. “The Sorceress wants us to continue with our task.” 

[umbraastaff]

“Barry! Hey! Thank god!” Lup shouts the moment she sees him. Barry looks up and sees Taako draped over her shoulder, looking like absolute shit.

“What-- hey, hi-- what happened to him?” Barry asks, rushing over.

“Santa Claus bit me,” Taako says, though the slur to his tone doesn’t make him very convincing.

“Some-- Some freak in a Santa costume,” Lup clarifies quickly, breathless from her hammering heart. “He-- like, there’s something wrong with-- I think the guy might’ve been sick, or something, and spread it to Taako?”

“Aw, shit,” Barry says as he gets a close look at Taako’s face. The texture of peppermint spreads upwards from his lip. “Where did the Santa go?”

Lup says, “He’s gone,” because she’s pretty sure she had to have imagined the thing she thinks happened, and if she didn’t, she can’t begin to have the words to say ‘I think I exploded him.’

Barry turns back to Taako. “Um, okay, we gotta get you to the hospital--”

“No hospitals,” Taako says. “Not getting fleeced by a fuckin’ hospital.”

“You might need a hospital,” Lup starts. The peppermint creeps upwards, and simultaneously inwards. Taako is at once relieved and deeply unsettled to be tasting sweet mint instead of blood.

“It’s cool, it’s-- I know a cler-- a guy. At the hospital. He won’t charge, not-- not for this. I promise.”

“You do?” Lup and Taako ask simultaneously.

Barry looks a little offended. “I know-- I know some guys. I know people. Guys. In places. Sometimes.”

--

The guy in the place is Merle Highchurch, who takes Taako into a back room to treat him.

Lup and Barry stand just outside the doorway, angled such that Lup can see her brother. (Taako is insisting on assurance that he’s not going to owe Merle for this, which is a sign that he’s doing okay.)

“It’s just, like, I can’t help but think-- I had this crazy fucking dream right before, and then when this happened, I had this thought, like, of course. Of course this would happen. And I feel-- I know it’s ridiculous, because who the hell would expect a Santa with peppermint rabies-- but I feel like I should’ve known, somehow? To be ready for something fucked up to happen.”

“Extremely, definitely not your fault,” Barry says quickly, but something else sparked the interest in his eyes. “You said-- What kind of crazy dream?”

“Crazy crazy. There was so much shit happening, I cannot begin to do it justice, it was like, there were a bunch of weird creatures and a unicorn and the moon talked-- I know dreams are weird by default, but it was super vivid. If Taako didn’t get bit, I was gonna-- I thought I might’ve been drugged.” She rubs her forehead, smiles wryly. “...Think your guy can do an off-the-record drug test?”

“Maybe,” says Barry absently. His brow is furrowed, lost in other thoughts.

“Oh, but the end of it-- there was this ominous voice in the dark, and-- and... a grey... baby? They said--” Lup shakes her head. “They talked, and I woke up.”

Barry’s eyes are wide, but before she can ask, there’s a voice from behind them.

“Barry, are you going to be taking another shift tonight, or-- Hello,” the gnome says as he notices Lup. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

“My friend, uh, Lup,” Barry says. “Lup, Davenport. Davenport, Lup.”

“Is she...” Davenport inclines his head forward, expecting Barry to pick up on something.

”No,” Barry says. “I mean--” he makes an unclear gesture that is halfway a shrug, looking a little helpless.

“Am I what?” Lup asks, meeting Davenport’s eyes.

“...Here to be treated,” Davenport responds, calm.

“I don’t buy that.” Lup steps toward the both of them, her presence suddenly more intimidating. Barry steps back. Davenport doesn’t. “If I was here to get treated, that’d be obvious as hell, especially to someone who clearly knows their way around the place as well as you. Listen to me: My brother’s teeth got turned to fucking peppermint today by a rabid Santa Claus. If you know anything about -- anything that’s going on right now, I think I deserve to know!”

And she steps closer to the gnome, trying to intimidate the truth out of him, trying to find it in his unreadable face.

Instead, she sees city buildings, illuminated with golden light as the sun sets behind them; she sees the city’s inhabitants in peace and harmony, and-- that golden light collides with the bursts of fire and lightning she realizes are coming from her, and--

there is a flash, and a sizzle, and their two forms of light snake and spiral into a helix together, rising up, and the vision is gone.

They both gasp and step back. Barry has a hand over his mouth, witnessing it.

Davenport says, “What the hell was that?”

[augustinewrites]

[07:30] miya atsumu

last new year’s day, atsumu hadn’t gotten out of bed until well past noon. and the year before last, and the year before that. it was pretty much tradition, spending the first day of the new year curled up in his sheets.

so what the hell was he doing, blinking awake at— a peek at his too-bright phone screen says…7:30 in the morning? he ignores the multiple text messages, flipping the phone screen down.

fuck, his eyelids feel like they’re stuck together, his mouth is drier than osamu’s dm’s, and when he sits up, the room is still spinning a little. yeah, he’s pretty sure he’s still a little drunk (stupid samu and his bottle of tequila.)

he goes to shake your shoulder to tell you, because he knows it’ll make you giggle. like the way you’d giggled when he’d cozied up to you in the living room that first night. the one you’d breathed lightly into his ear after you’d kissed up the side of his neck just last night, whispering something that’d made him shudder. what was it, again? his brain is still a little foggy.

yet he sobers up a little when he pats the space beside him and finds it empty.

his confusion is short-lived when he hears your quiet groan from the bathroom. so atsumu rolls out of bed, rubbing his eyes and swaying a little on his feet until he gets to you.

you’re leaning against the tub, an arm thrown over your eyes, makeup a little smudged, and hair stuck up in odd places and dotted with confetti.

(it’s funny, he thinks then. how before you, he’d never been the type of guy to check on girls when they’re in his bathroom the morning after. he’d been the type to slip out at the distraction.)

“knew you’d get hungover,” atsumu teases, though he feels like he’s been hit by a bus. a brief glance in the mirror confirms that he looks it, too. with glitter clinging to his neck and his shirt stained with…something.

“shut up,” you mumble, making him chuckle as he slides down the wall opposite of you, placing a hand on your ankle and shaking you gently.

“hey, wanna bug samu for breakfast?”

you lower your arm to peek at him. “we need to clean up first…”

this time it’s atsumu who groans, letting his head fall back against the wall. he already knows what waits for the both of you outside. wine and liquor bottles in the kitchen and living room, glitter and confetti stuck to the hardwood floor.

(who would have thought that miya atsumu would spend new year’s day helping someone pick up bottles and sweep up confetti?)

“ugh— stupid samu and his bottle of tequila,” you groan, dragging yourself up onto your knees to lean over the toilet.

getting up so fast is a mistake - it makes his own stomach lurch - but he’s by your side in an instant. he pulls your hair out of the way and rubs your back until you’re done. then he fills a cup with water and squeezes toothpaste onto your brush, pressing them into your hand.

(you’re the reason why, he realizes as he wet his own toothbrush, watching you lazily brush your teeth. yeah, he’d just watched you toss your guts, but you’re still the prettiest person he’s ever seen.

it was that first night together that’d done him in and landed him here, hungover but awake at 7:30 in the morning on new year’s day. osamu had always said it wasn’t like him to see a relationship past sunday morning, but with you it’s always been different. he still wanted you the following monday, and every day after. that’s why he was planning on—)

his eyes fly open, and gently pushes past you to rush to his dresser, digging furiously through his sock drawer. “where is it, where is it?” he mutters, heart pounding furiously in his chest.

“looking for this?” you ask behind him, and atsumu whips his head around, eyes widening when he sees the glittering diamond ring around your finger.

“you said yes?” he asks dumbly.

you tilt your head a little when you smile at him. “of course i did.”

it comes flooding back to him then. stupid samu and his bottle of tequila, snatching the ring from his dresser during the countdown, kissing you at midnight and fumbling through some messy proclamation of love before getting down on one knee. something stupid he probably heard in a song, like you and me forevermore.

shit, suna probably has it on video.

“i wouldn’t have said yes if i didn’t want to,” you assure him, lacing your fingers though his, the metal of the silver band cool against his skin.

(because you want him at midnight, and always the morning after)

and when you step outside, osamu’s there, already getting breakfast started (atsumu makes a note to take that spare key back) “hey, lovebirds! congrats!”

[sluttywonwoo]

take it off || k.mg x reader

Pairing: mob!mingyu x fem reader

Summary: as much as you hate to admit it, jealousy looks good on your fiancé 

Warnings: swearing, light smut (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: reworked this old blurb originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

“Mingyu, slow down,” you said with a sigh, trying not to roll your eyes.

“What was he thinking?” Mingyu spat, not acknowledging what you had just said. He gripped the steering wheel even harder.

You watched as his knuckles began to turn white and rubbed his arm soothingly. “Baby, take a deep breath. Relax.”

He just shrugged you off and cursed at the car in front of him.

“Don’t fucking tell me to relax.”

“It’s not a big deal, Gyu.”

He actually turned his head towards you and looked at you this time. “You’re joking.”

You shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve had worse.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

You winced, knowing you’d probably made it worse and that Mingyu was likely now picturing the grimy hands of ill-intentioned strangers all over your body.

“I should have him killed,” he snarled.

To most, that threat would sound completely ridiculous or utterly insane, but your fiancé was the head of the Seoul mob-the South West branch anyway- and he was no stranger to violence. Having someone killed would be as easy as snapping his fingers.

You scoffed to call his bluff.

“You think I won’t?” he challenged and you groaned.

“You promised you were done with that.”

It’s true, one of the conditions of your engagement had been that Mingyu agree to put the more sinister side of his business to rest, and although you trusted him, in all honesty, you weren’t sure how well he was upholding his end of the deal.

“I’d make an exception.”

“Well don’t. I don’t want some poor guy’s blood on my hands.”

At that, the car screeched to a stop right in the middle of the freeway. The cars behind you honked and flashed their lights at Mingyu as they maneuvered to avoid a collision.

You huffed in frustration, wanting to bang your head against the dashboard. This was exactly why you didn’t like for Mingyu to drive himself: he pulled dangerous shit all the time like this. Literally, all of his other men had drivers who took them places and you desperately wished Mingyu would hire someone, but he insisted that it was safest if he was the one driving (yet here you were in the middle of the highway).

“You could’ve fucking killed us!” you shouted, more annoyed than anything.

Mingyu took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. But y/n, he’s not just some poor guy.”

“He was trying to get a rise out of you, Gyu. He fucking hates you, of course, he’d go after me, and he was drunk.”

Mingyu narrowed his eyes at you, foot still pressed firmly on the brake. “That’s not a fucking excuse, you of all people should know that. Why are you trying to defend him?”

“I’m not trying to defend him, I’m just saying he doesn’t deserve to die. Can we please just get home?”

Mingyu relented and put the car back into motion making you breathe a sigh of relief.

Even though he didn’t say anything else you could tell his mind was still going a thousand miles a minute. You watched him chew at his lip in silence and wondered what was going on in that beautiful head of his. Nothing good, you could be sure of that.

Mingyu’s mind was darker than most. Occupational hazard. He carried so much pain that you hadn’t known about when you first met him. He’d let you in slowly, keeping you at arm’s length for months, until he almost lost you. And then he knew he couldn’t keep things from you anymore. It was still a challenge to understand his thought process sometimes, but you liked it that way. How could a ruthless, power-hungry mobster also be the most loving, family-oriented person you’d ever met in your life? How could someone who dropped a grand on a dinner like it was nothing secretly rather spend one more night picnicking with crappy Chinese food on the bedroom floor in your old apartment? You couldn’t think of an answer, and you didn’t want to.

The guy at the bar tonight had been some rival of Mingyu’s. You hadn’t seen him before, but you could tell because when Mingyu got up to get the two of you more drinks he swooped in and laid it on heavy. He looped one arm around your waist and placed his other hand on your knee and began attempting to seduce you. Sure, you were uncomfortable but more than anything you were angry. And tired. Tired of being used as bait, something to get to Mingyu.

You didn’t want to make a scene so you listened to the asshole talk about how much better he’d treat you than Mingyu until your fiancé eventually returned with your drinks in hand, face beet red, eyes dark with anger.

The man, you never caught his name, left the bar with a broken nose. Mingyu left with bruised knuckles. You’d thought it would end at that, but of course, once Mingyu got started it was hard for him to stop. It was a gift in the bedroom, but a curse in the rest of your life.

Then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it, Mingyu broke the silence in the car and said “I know what he said to you,” and it all clicked.

Normally, a hand on your shoulder, thigh, ass was enough to set Mingyu off, but combine that with the filthy words he’d undoubtedly overheard spilling from the man’s lips… no wonder all he could see was red.

“Mingyu, I-“

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to start something.”

“Start something? Is that true? Or do you think he’s right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Do you think he can satisfy you better than I can?”

“Mingyu!”

“Well do you?”

You shook your head and rubbed your thighs together, fighting a shiver. As irritating as Mingyu’s jealousy could be, the effect it had on you was even more infuriating. The man could already turn you on without doing anything and whenever he started acting a little jealous it was game over for you. It was pathetic, really.

“Why the fuck did he even think it was okay to look at you, let alone touch you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged finally settling in to play the game. “These big dudes with huge muscles just think they can have whoever they want.”

Mingyu whipped his head back towards you. “What did you say?”

You ignored him. “I mean he definitely wouldn’t be as good as you, but he could do some damage.” Mingyu was full-on glaring at you now, and you wanted to tell him to keep his eyes on the road, but you couldn’t give up so fast. “I mean, just one of his hands could probably wrap around my whole neck. Like they were giant, and you know what they say about guys with big hands-“

“Do you think this is funny?”

Any sane person wouldn’t even think about taunting Mingyu like this, not with his reputation, but you couldn’t be sane to be with someone like Mingyu anyway, and besides, you knew he was a big softie at heart.

“A little,” you admitted. “You look really hot right now.”

He really did. His hair was tousled with silver highlights from the moonlight streaming in through the windshield, his tan skin was flushed with adrenaline, and his white button-up was unbuttoned just a few times to show off his collarbone. You bit your lip. You were so fucking weak.

“That’s not going to work.”

“No?” You quirked an eyebrow and leaned over the console to see that he was already more than half hard in his dress pants. “Because it looks like it’s working.” You reached over and began to palm him through his trousers, smirking when he cursed and rolled his neck at the contact.

“Y/n, if I have to pull over, you’re not going to be able to walk for the next week.”

Oh no, that’d be horrible you thought to yourself and rolled your eyes. He had to know that’s what you secretly wanted, right? Right? Why were men so stupid?

Either way, you took your hand back and moved it up under the hem of your dress to where you were feeling a little desperate for some friction. You sighed deeply when you rubbed yourself over your panties, not even surprised at how wet you were.

“Fuck,” you hissed out and hiked your legs up onto the seat so you could give Mingyu a better view.

“Stop that.”

He said it so forcefully that you froze, fingers hovering over your panties, about to pull them to the side. Then you smiled.

“No.” You went ahead and did it anyway, slipping two fingers inside of yourself easily.

You weren’t one to defy Mingyu often, especially when it came to what he asked of you in the bedroom, but you knew how crazy it drove him and just couldn’t resist.

Mingyu groaned, trying and failing to maintain an angry expression. His eyes betrayed an absolutely sinful lust that made you want to melt and you wished more than anything he’d just pull the fucking car over.

“Fuck, Gyu,” you gasped, “I wish these were your fingers, you’re so good with your fingers.”

“Yeah? You sure you wish they’re my fingers? Not someone else’s?”

You shook your head vigorously. “Never. You’re the only one who knows how to make me cum that hard.”

“Is that what you want? To cum hard?”

“God, yes,” you moaned, pumping your fingers in and out of you faster.

“Take off your dress.”

“What?” you weren’t sure if you’d heard him right, you were still driving down the highway after all.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Not wanting to push your luck any further you didn’t hesitate to listen this time and pulled the loose fabric up and over your head.

“Good girl,” he praised and you whined. You were still wearing your bra and underwear and as much as you’d love to flash oncoming traffic, you hoped Mingyu wouldn’t ask you to take them off.

“You can touch yourself,” he said and you complied, knowing it was more of an instruction than an allowance.

It felt good, really good, but you still wished it was him instead of you.

“Fuck, darling you look so beautiful like that, God, I can’t believe I get to marry you.”

“If, you stop, killing people,” you managed to get out through gritted teeth and Mingyu laughed.

“I’m not going to kill him, baby. I made a promise. You’re too important to risk losing, even if he is a fucking prick.”

You whimpered, the mixture of complete head-over-heels love you felt for Mingyu and pleasure making you crumble.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said, reaching over and taking you by the wrist, stalling your movements just as you were about to fall over the edge. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget you ever met that asshole.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt day hurray! What does BaXia think of ChenQing? They would have crossed paths in the war, right? What do all the other weapons and instruments think of WWX apparently setting aside SuiBian for ChenQing? Can THEY tell he's got no golden core?

ao3

You seem kind of evil, Baxia remarked when she first met the flute.

Yeah? The flute responded without first bothering to extend her perceptive aura out to see who was talking to her, sounding like a little punk, arrogant and bold. Well, you seem kind of – oh fuck oh fuck you’re terrifying!

This was true. Baxia was terrifying.

Please don’t destroy me! My master needs me!

Baxia said nothing, enjoying how the flute squirmed, and nudged her own master pointedly.

Do not destroy the flute, her master responded with a sigh. He knew Baxia well. Her master is on our side.

Truly, war made for strange bedfellows. Baxia mourned the loss of the easy, straightforward night-hunt.

She nudged her master again.

Yes, fine, you can chase.

Her master - loving, wonderful, understanding master that he was - very casually walked across the room, unhooked her from his back, and put her down next to where the flute was hanging off her master's belt.

Chase, Baxia said happily, the aura of her power already spreading beyond the confines of her blade. Chase, chase, chase –

Someone help meeeeeee!

-

You’re kind of a dick, Chenqing said, having finally realized that Baxia had no intention of destroying her incipient spiritual soul. Anyone ever tell you that?

Yes.

…really? Who dared?

My master.

Your master is badass. Chenqing contemplated for a moment. So is mine, he's very brave, even suicidally brave, but not – you know – that much.

Baxia considered this, and accepted it. Her master was indeed a superior sort of human.

Why do you smell of death? she asked, mildly curious.

My master uses me to direct resentful energy, so I’m affected by its aura. You?

I bathe in it.

…you're so badass.

Yes. Baxia was.

You’re not bad, she told Chenqing, which almost predictably got a little huffy.

I raise armies of the dead! I am terrifying! They call me the phantom flute! I am more than 'not bad', okay?!

Baxia ignored Chenqing's nonsense. It would not take long for her to realize that being called ‘not bad’ by Baxia was a very high compliment, as such things went.

-

Are there any swords that aren’t afraid of you? Chenqing asked. She was very chatty. Or sabers. Or musical instruments…

Which musical instruments have you met?

Uh, mostly Wangji? Wangji’s cool.

Baxia occasionally wished for eyes so that she could roll them. Her human got a great deal of relief out of doing that, according to him. Wangji has a temperament of ice, yes.

No, I mean, that’s not what I meant, I – wait. Are you making a joke right now?

Baxia said nothing.

You have a sense of humor?!

Baxia said nothing.

This is ridiculous. It’s like meeting a hurricane with sharp teeth and finding out it also likes to sing bawdy brothel songs.

You’re kind of stupid, Baxia observed.

Well, yeah. I mean. Have you met my master?

Baxia had.

He’s only scary by accident, Chenqing said ruthlessly, which was only to be expected – no one dunked on a human like their spiritual weapon. Inside, he’s a big soft squishy meatball.

My master cries when he has feelings.

My master too! Humans, am I right?

Baxia supposed Chenqing was, in fact, right.

Perhaps she could stay.

-

It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything Wei Wuxian is doing for us, Baxia's master remarked to her one day. But didn’t he have a sword at one point? The one with the ridiculous name – Suibian.

At the next meeting, Baxia asked.

Suibian? Yeah, master doesn’t use him anymore, Chenqing said. It's a bit sad, actually. He can’t access the spiritual energy in the blade anymore.

Baxia didn’t like the sound of that. How come?

Master doesn’t have a golden core, Chenqing said. I think he used to, but he doesn’t anymore.

Seems careless.

Hey, I’m pretty sure it’s not his fault! Anyway, it’s a whole big secret. Why do you ask?

My master wanted to know.

Hah, Chenqing said. Nice of you to ask on his behalf, since you can’t tell him what the result of your question was.

Baxia said nothing.

You – can’t. Right? Masters can’t hear what swords say.

I, Baxia said, am not a sword.

…oh shit. Shit, no, you can’t –!

-

“We need to talk,” Baxia’s master said to Chenqing’s. “In private.”

You’re a rotten tattletale, Chenqing said.

Why do you care? He won’t know it was you that squealed.

Yeah, well, I know that I did it!

It’s for the best. My master will be nice about it, and your master will feel better for it. Baxia considered. There may be tears.

There were many tears.

Master really does seem like he feels better, Chenqing observed. I wouldn’t have called that.

Told you so.

-

So, Chenqing said. This hunt is probably the last time we’ll be able to hang out.

Probably, Baxia agreed.

I was hoping to ask for some advice.

Bichen is amendable to your flirting, and Wangji follows where she leads, so you have a shot.

I – what? That wasn’t what I was going to ask.

Baxia waited.

…wait, are you serious? Will that work? I could do that –

-

The flute’s an idiot, Baxia told her master. But maybe she and that master of hers can help you here.

It would be inappropriate for me to ask, her master said, rubbing his eyes. The Jiang sect kicked him out, remember? It would be stepping on their face to approach him despite that.

Okay, Baxia said. So step.

Baxia…

You share a secret with him, at his request, she pointed out. He owes you for keeping it secret for him. At minimum, even if he can’t help you right now, he can help protect your brother when you’re gone.

Her master was silent. That was his weak spot, and had always been.

No one would be able to know, he finally said. And Meng Yao comes every week.

Is our home so small that we can’t hide someone from Meng Yao’s sight? Baxia said scathingly. Since when is he the master here, not you?

I just meant that he’s a sneak that’d sell me out to his father given half a chance, her master sighed. All right, I’ll see if there’s anything that can be done. Wei Wuxian is a musical cultivator, and a genius; maybe he can tell me why Clarity doesn’t seem to be having the impact we hoped it would.

Sure, Baxia said. Whatever. I don't really care. Just get help.

-

Well, that worked, Baxia said to Chenqing. Sort of.

How are you this badass? You just -! Singlehandedly -! I can’t – how?!

Calm down, Baxia advised. What are you, human?

How dare you.

You’re the one acting like you need air to speak.

…so I’m looking forward to seeing the Lotus Pier again now that we're not banished any more, Chenqing said, pointedly changing the subject because she was wrong and she knew it. Thanks for that.

Thanks for figuring out that the evil meat was poisoning my master.

That’s. uh. Sure a way to call someone.

Why not? He’s evil, and he’s made of flesh, and he’s going to be nothing but meat as soon as I have an opportunity.

I thought your master was thinking of some sort of confinement…?

He certainly has thoughts, Baxia allowed, purposefully broadcasting.

I have very strong thoughts, her master replied pointedly. Do not kill him on your own – I’ll only get the blame for that.

Oh no, Baxia told him insincerely. How terrible for you.

Baxia. Please.

Fine. What about Jin Guangshan?

…what about him?

Me and the flute are going to take care of him.

We are? Wait, are you talking to your master right now? Oh that’s so cool. Tell him to tell my master that I said hi.

Baxia would tell her master no such thing.

That’s probably not the right way to do that, her master said, but in that wavering tone of voice that suggested he was open to being convinced. Though it would be easier to sell Meng Yao as being only collateral damage in the scheme if Jin Guangshan took the lion’s share of the blame, which would only happen if he wasn’t around…that doesn’t seem right, though.

Sure it is, Baxia said soothingly. He’s the one who wanted to play with resentful energy, right? All we want to do is play with him back. Who can say no to that? He’s practically volunteered!

-

“Okay, I have a weird question,” Chenqing’s master said to Baxia’s. “Please don’t judge me. But…did we happen to work together to drive Jin Guangshan into a resentful energy backlash?”

“We did not,” Baxia’s master said.

“Okay. Right. Got it. Sorry, stupid question.”

“Our spiritual weapons did.”

“…what?”

“If you’re wondering why your Chenqing shows signs of use in the manner that would be associated with Jin Guangshan’s untimely demise, it’s because the resentful energy you’re using has been sufficient to allow it to cultivate in the direction of a guai,” Baxia’s master explained. “It has a will of its own now, just as Baxia does. You will need to account for that when you master it in the future.”

“Wait. Are you saying that my flute has, what, a personality? Can think and talk and do things on its own?”

“Yes.”

“That’s…that’s so cool. Can you tell Baxia to tell Chenqing I said ‘hi’?”

Why are they like this, Baxia’s master asked Baxia.

I don’t know, you’re the human expert, she replied, ignoring the way that Chenqing was happily chirping answers to her human’s questions even though he couldn’t hear her. Why are you all like this?

I don’t know, he said. I really don’t know.

-

It’s nice to meet you, Suibian said, sounding appropriately respectful. I appreciate your master finding a way for my master to continue to wield me.

It’s through resentful energy, Chenqing said gleefully. Lots and lots of it, refining the sword like a saber – my poor master’s going to have to stay up late and learn so many techniques, his hair’s all going to fall out.

Yes, Baxia said. I can see the resentful energy. There’s a lot of it.

Lots and lots, Suibian said proudly. I drew in everything I could.

Without sorting out the evil?

…isn’t it all evil?

Mm, not really, Baxia said, and began to extend out her aura.

Uh, Suibian said. What’s going on.

I told you to be more patient! You shouldn’t have taken the evil parts, Chengqing said. It makes you a little bit evil, too, and that makes you Baxia’s prey.

…prey?

Chase, Baxia said. Chase, chase, chase –

Help! Help – somebody help!

I would, Chenqing giggled. But master doesn’t speak flute. Sorry!

[eremiie]

i dont know if its ok to ask but- jealous possesive eren pleassee.. tyy🤸‍♀️

no, nothing;

❥ eren x reader | 2.4k words | modern au

❥ content: possessive eren wooo, wall sex??, cum play i guess

❥ a/n; yes yes this is late idk what happened??? anyways this is season 4 eren, that’s the vibes this gives me

"what are you doing?"

eren had your jaw in between his fingertips, head pointed up towards him yet eyes darting around to avoid his gaze.

you hated when he was like this— when he thought every little interaction with anyone other than him was some kind of advancement. it irked your nerves, yet your mouth stayed quiet and you stayed compliant when he spoke to you, when he confronted you.

your fingers danced up and down the material of his sweats to distract yourself. "nothing." your voice came out in a low mumble, nervous that if you spoke any louder than you were, eren would find it offensive.

"nothing?"

at least to you it was nothing, only a couple minutes ago before eren called you to stand in between his legs from where he was perched on the railing of the stairs, you were a distance away with your other friends, namely sasha, jean and connie.

it was late at night, moon in the sky as the five of you goofed off in front of connie and sasha's apartment. you had no reason to be out so late— other than the fact that you all were bored. you'd decided to get together at their shared apartment for a small get together but the house quickly became a bore.

connie tried to teach you a skateboard trick that sasha couldn't seem to get the hang of, although he deemed it as "one of the easiest tricks to learn." and since the title of the trick was self proclaimed, you wanted to try to see if it really was that easy. you didn't see any harm in that, you didn't see any harm when you finally attempted the trick and almost fell back, the rough surface of the skateboard flying out from underneath you and jean having to catch you before you injured yourself.

the four of you had a moment of laughter, and you had thanked jean for catching you. you didn't process what you were doing at the time because once again— you found nothing wrong with what you were doing. you found nothing wrong when your hands were encased with connie's for him to steady you, because it was just to steady you. you found nothing wrong when his hands were around your waist to prevent you from falling, and you found nothing wrong when you and jean were play fighting, you getting him back for letting the smoke from the joint ghost right in your face.

but eren did, he always did. every little gesture that was just friendly to you was flirty to him, every little gesture that mean nothing meant something in his eyes. it was irritating, you could always feel his eyes burning into your back, and you always felt like you had to watch your back. you felt like prey that was constantly being hunted, constantly being stalked and watched.

eren took a drag of the joint between the fingertips of his other hand, turning his head to the side to blow the smoke out before looking back down at you again. his gaze was intimidating, the way his eyes were low lidded in boredom— as if he's not surprised. like you have done this before and still haven't learned, even though there was nothing to learn, and a viridian stare that felt like it was looking right through you didn't help to ease the tense feeling in your muscles either.

"what do you mean nothing? you didn't see how they were all over you?" he asked you, tone low much like yours earlier, except it was steady and made you shrink from below him.

do you shake your head no? you didn't see how they were "all over you," but no didn't seem like a good answer for you, then again, you had no reason to lie to him.

"no."

you felt the tips of his fingers on your jaw tighten. eren let out a small incredulous laugh, as if he was in disbelief with your answer. wasn't it obvious? how could you not see the way they were touching you, messing with you, they were practically trying to make eren upset, they always did, and he didn't know how he was the only one who saw it.

his eyes trailed over your body, almost as if he was searching for something. "look at what you're wearing." your eyes skimmed over your attire. it was simple, his jacket draped over your shoulders at his request, covering both you shirt and your shorts completely as it was too big on you.

"eren, theres nothing wrong with what i'm wearing, they don't care,"

"how do you know?" eren furrowed his eyebrows at you in confusion, or maybe slight frustration at the fact that you weren't getting it. his hand dropped down from your jaw to your neck, resting it there while his thumb smoothed over your jawline in a relaxing manner if it wasn't for the conversation at hand. "baby, you're not watching them, i am."

the joint was brought back up to his mouth as he took another hit before letting go of you and sliding off the railing. "sasha," he called out for the girl, her hickory ponytail whipping as she looked towards the two of you. "here." his hand was out with the drug in hand, using his fingers to beckon her over to retrieve it while his other hand snaked around your waist pulling you close to him in a possessive manner.

sasha scurried over from where she was sat on the concrete, saying something to jean and connie before jogging over. "where are you guys going?" she asked as she plucked the joint from eren's fingers, putting it up to her own lips.

"______ needs to get something in the house, we'll be back in a minute."

you shuffled on your feet at his words— you didn't have anything to get.

sasha dismissed the two of you with a nod of her head, walking back over to the other two and repeating what eren said as he took you up the stairs of the apartment complex. he twisted the knob to the apartment until the door swung open, pushing you inside and shutting the door behind the two of you.

"eren, what—" his hand flew to your hips to push you against the door, your back hitting it with a thud that you were sure could've been heard by someone on the other side of the door. he towered over you, eyebrows coming together in aggravation.

"why can't you just fucking listen?" his question came out laced with venom, and you let out a small whimper with how tight he was holding you in place, his hips pressing into yours keeping the distance between the two of you almost nonexistent. "i'm not just saying this shit for no reason, you don't need to be letting them touch all over you. is that what you want?"

"eren—"

"huh?"

you repressed rolling your eyes and held your tongue, not responding to him once more. it almost seemed like your favorite thing to do— leaving him without a response, leaving what you were thinking up for interpretation although it looked like he already knew what you were thinking.

"i'm just trying to do you a favor." he murmured as he studied your face, grip softening just like the features on his face when you didn't respond, only a small pout gracing your features. his hand dipped down until it was underneath the fabric of his jacket, smoothing over the skin on your hip when it slipped between your shorts and shirt. "here,"

his mouth came down to kiss your forehead before pecking kissed down the side of your face, and you closed your eyes. you were used to this, it was the same process every time, he'd get envious, talk to you about it as if it was your fault, and then try to sweet talk you, convince you that it's you, and that it's okay, as if there was an issue in the first place. it happened every time.

eren let both of his hands slide to your ass, lifting you up until you were pushed against the door and leveled with his face. he held you up by your thighs, pressing his self into you and continuing his kisses down your neck.

his teeth nibbled at the soft skin and you held back the noises trying to elicit from your throat. it felt good, it did, he felt warm against you, and despite how he tended to act sometimes; you felt safe when you had him so close to you.

"since you seem to forgot," his hands moved quick, one of them wrapping around your torso to hold you up while the other one moved to pull down your shorts. the cold air of the apartment hit your legs all too quick— goosebumps spreading over your skin that were quickly soothed by eren's warm hand smoothing over your thigh once more. "let me remind you who you belong to."

and there he went, grinding himself against you, attacking your neck with kisses, you were sure he left a couple hickeys that'd be visible in the right lighting.

eren groaned when his finger went down to pull your underwear aside, the warm slick from your cunt meeting the side of his fingers.

he brought his hand up to his mouth, tongue sliding over his index finger as he tasted you, and you bit your lip feeling yourself clench around nothing.

eren shuffled to untie his sweatpants with one hand, then pulling them to his thighs along with his boxers before holding your underwear to the side and sliding into you with one quick motion. "fuck," he groaned feeling you sheath him inside of you.

a soft moan left your parted lips and you grabbed onto eren for support, your fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt as you held onto him, like how he held on to your waist.

his head buried into your shoulder as he pulled out and back into you, groaning into your neck as he continued to kiss you, your back hitting the door with every thrust. "oh, shit—" your sentence came out choppy, every stroke of his was hard, cause you to jolt up every time.

one of eren's hands went down to rub at your thighs before trailing back up your back to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck more to him. you winced, but the hold he had on your hair soon felt like nothing when his lips were on your skin again.

"nobody fucks you like this, yeah?" his voice came out muffled as he spoke against your neck.

you struggled to respond, pleasure was flooding your body and you almost felt incoherent with the way he was fucking you, it felt all too good, it always felt too good. it was something about the way he wanted to fuck you and let you know that you were his, and that you'll never be anyone else's.

"yes, yes." your voice was shaky, and you could feel eren smiling against you. he let go of your locks and moved his hand just a little bit further south to grab your neck instead.

he sped his pace up, and your hips moved to get him deeper— you were practically impaling yourself on him, every time he fucked up into you, you tried to meet his hips.

the lewd noises between the two of you were dirty, they made eren want to fuck you harder, knowing that despite everything that was happening moments ago you were always ready to let him fuck you good. "god, eren," you choked out, feeling his hand around your neck tighten.

you weren't worried about anything else— not about the fact that the other three could walk in at any moment, not about the black spots that were appearing in the corner of your eyes, not about the fact that this was supposed to be your lesson. you were only worried about the way his cock slid against your walls, the way that small tinge of pain made your body jerk when he would hit your cervix yet feel so good at the same time. your were worried about how your clit would hit the fabric of his shirt every time he fucked into you, and how close you were.

and by the way his hips were stuttering, the way his movements were becoming more sloppy, and his grip loosening on your neck, you knew he was close too. "what?" he breathed out, it almost sounded like a pant.

"i'm gonna cum," you moaned, and he dropped his hand from your neck to reach in between the two of you, thumb rubbing your clit in large messy circles until you tightened around eren, a cry of what could have only been his name leaving you as you came around him.

his eyes screwed shut as he felt your slick run down him, when he pulled a little out of you he could see the white ring you left around the base of his cock and he groaned as he used you to get himself off, thrusting into you a few more times before filling you up with his own cum with a grunt.

your legs felt weak, if he were to put you down now you weren't sure if you would be able to stand. so you sat there in his arms for a few minutes, both of you trying to catch your breath and come down from your high. your head was rested against his shoulder and his against your chest.

finally, eren slowly pulled out with a hiss, he was still a little sensitive. he let you step down, still holding onto him to not fall and he pulled your underwear back into place, his fingers pressing the cloth against your cunt  until he could feel his cum wetting the fabric, the squelching noises making you whimper.

"now let's go back out there," he sighed, content with the way you still gripped onto him as you pulled your shorts back up unsteadily.

"and remember who's cum you're filled with when we do."

[esamastation]

Xerxes au snippet

The first official political overture the small desert nation of Xerxes makes towards Amestris in over fifty years is a year after the end of the Ishvalan Civil War. Though it is expected to concern the war, and the border between Amestris and Xerxes, or perhaps even Amestrian use of Alchemy in the war, is has nothing to do with the bloody conflict, or it's relation to Xerxes' famously pacifistic view on alchemy.

It is a simple, polite appeal to the Amestrian Government – an invitation for an Amestrian automail mechanic to join the Xerxesian court.

"Bit odd," Havoc mutters, after a copy of the letter has gone around the office a few times. "What do they need an automail mechanic for – isn't Xerxesian medical alchemy, like… world famous?"

"For given the value of fame, yes," Roy agrees, fingers crossed together and a thoughtful look on his face. "They say early Amestrian alchemists learned from Xerxesians. We still use a lot of their symbols in our alchemy – but if Xerxesian alchemists are world famous about anything these days, it's their reticence. No outsider has seen much about the way they go about things these days, if they even practice alchemy anymore."

Of course there are rumours, there are always rumours, and there's history – the great and wealthy kingdom of Xerxes, alchemically on top of the world and widely known for their wisdom and knowledge and the miracles they achieved… who reached too far, tried to achieve the power of gods, and got struck down by said gods for it. How accurate that is, no one knows, but it's known that some disaster hundreds of years ago devastated the kingdom, killed most of its people, and it never fully recovered. Now it's people can only barely scrape by, living in huts and caves and underground, and they don't treat with outsiders much beyond the absolutely necessary.

Beyond trade routes established to get Amestrian goods through Xerxes to Xing, there's never been much interest for Xerxes, except maybe for it's grand history and it's many ruins. It doesn't help that Xerxes, as far as anyone knows, has never really reached outside, keeping to its isolationist values – and since it has little to offer to other nations… no one reached back, either. As far as anyone knows, Xerxes hasn't advanced at all scientifically or technologically in the last hundred years.

Which makes the fact that they want specifically an automail mechanic, an craftsman of one of Amestris' most advanced technology, rather interesting, doesn't it?

"I hear they took a lot of Ishvalan refugees during the war," Fuery says – he's the one holding the letter, reading it through.

Roy hums grimly. There's that, though took in might be stretching it a bit. Xerxes didn't do much to protect its borders – there was no need, with a desert all around their kingdom. So, when Ishvalan refugees sought to escape the conflict and set out to the desert, there was nothing but the terrain itself to stop them. Who knows how many Ishvalans made it through the desert, on foot and probably hurt…

"Why'd they send this to our office?" Breda asks, casting a look at Roy.

"They sent it to Grumman who sent it to us," Roy sighs and leans back in his chair. "The Lieutenant General wants us to find a suitable mechanic and then escort them – along with the Fürher's greetings – to Xerxes. The mission isn't exactly time sensitive, but since we're in the East…"

There's probably many reasons it was thrown their way, really. Way to keep those uppity brats from East busy, easily justified with them being closest to the matter at hand. It also wasn't exactly vital as diplomatic missions go – but it was still a diplomatic mission to a foreign nation, which means that Roy would want to handle it himself instead of leaving it to any of his subordinates. Especially since it's to Xerxes – what Alchemist wouldn't give an arm and a leg for a glimpse at how Xerxesian alchemy is these days? So, it was expected that he'd go himself. Which would get him out of people's way for a while, and maybe open up a slot for someone else to be promoted to his place, depending how long it would take.

How annoying. Grumman can be one clever son of a bitch when he wants to be.

"Right," Roy says while his team exchanges looks. "I want a list of all automail mechanics of East on my desk by the end of the day – if you can figure out their feelings about Ishval and if they have any history with the Ishvalan Civil War, that'd be a plus. Get to work."

"Sir!" his team answers, and immediately get to it, Fuery and Fallman both heading out to probably check records, while Havoc fishes out a phone book and Breda gets the phone. Beside Roy, Hawkeye gives him a look.

"Should I start preparing for travel?" she asks mildly.

"If you please," Roy says, turning to his paperwork. "We'll take Breda with us."

"Understood."

-

Over the course of next two days, they list and investigate various automail shops in the east, Roy privately wincing at how many there are, and how many of them are less than a decade old. The Ishvalan Civil War had been a boon to the business, and a lot of mechanics from the south moved in to take advantage of the situation. Lots of new up and coming mechanics, cutting their teeth in on a lot of freshly traumatised soldiers.

It left a lot of them… unsuitable for a mission likely to involve Ishvalan refugees.

"Known for his Anti-Ishvalan sentiments," Breda says, crossing out another potential automail shop. "This one has a No Refugees sign on his shop front, which probably means the same thing. This one has a pretty high record of automail rejection syndrome. This one has had two patients die on the operation table…"

Roy rubs a hand over his forehead, already imagining having to reach for the Southern District to find someone sensible in Rush Valley, when Breda offers him a potential. "Rockbell Automail, in business for decades before the Ishvalan Conflict even began."

"Rockbell," Roy says, lifting his head. "Any relation to the two late Doctors Rockbell?"

"Yep. Son and daughter in law of Doctor Pinako Rockbell, the head mechanic of the shop," Breda says and lays the file on his desk. "Their daughter is currently an apprentice mechanic in the shop, too."

Roy grimaces at that, but accepts the file, leafing quickly through it. Old, well established shop, known for their skill and efficiency, with very high praise from a lot of former customers and no known record of either deaths on operation table, auto mail rejections, or any anti-Ishvalan sentiments. There is a slight issue of the head mechanic being an old woman and the only other mechanic being a young girl, but…

It's promising.

"Phone," Roy says, and Hawkeye quickly lifts it on his desk, turning it toward him so that he can dial easily.

"Rockbell Automail, Pinako Rockbell speaking," a woman's voice answers the phone promptly, her tone brisk.

"Doctor Rockbell, my name is Roy Mustang, I'm a Lieutenant Colonel from the East Area Headquarters – may I have a moment of your time?"

"Certainly," Doctor Rockbell answers, no noticeable change in her tone. "What can do for you, Lieutenant Colonel? Aside from automail, presumably."

"I am currently looking for a skilled automail mechanic to take part in a diplomatic mission, likely to involve Ishvalan refugees," Roy says. "Your shop came up as highly recommended."

"Hrm. What kind of diplomatic mission? Don't the military have their own automail mechanics?"

"There are some, but none in the Eastern Headquarters," Roy admits – probably because the East has such surplus of civilian mechanics these days. "And I'll be frank, the likely length of this mission makes it difficult to use any of our military mechanics. The mission is to Xerxes, and will likely take weeks, if not months."

"… Xerxes?" now the old woman's voice changes, growing a little incredulous.

"Yes, the Xerxes Royal Family sent the Amestrian government an appeal for a skilled automail mechanic to join their court, and I was tasked with the mission of finding one," Roy explains and leans back, turning to look out of the window while he talks. "You would be well compensated for your trouble, however long it would last."

"Is this… a permanent position? In Xerxes?" Still incredulous.

"We don't know as of yet, the treaties are yet to be drawn. You would naturally be part of the negotiations and your wishes and needs would be taken into account," Roy assures her. "I understand this is a bit much so suddenly, and I will hold it in no way against you if you refuse outright – though I am hoping that if that is the case, then perhaps you, as a well established mechanic, might be able to point me in the way of more suitable candidates…"

Honestly, with a shop as old and as well established as hers, Roy doubts very much she would take him up on the mission – she probably has a whole lot of regular clients and steady stream of income, and no need to move. But, it never hurts to ask.

The phone line is quiet for a moment as the old mechanic thinks. "I need to talk with my apprentice for a moment, can I call you back in, say, two hours?"

"Certainly," Roy agrees, and gives her his office number. "We'll be looking forward to your call."

"Right – one more thing. You said it's likely to involve Ishvalan refugees," Doctor Rockbell says. "How'd you mean?"

"We don't know for sure, the appeal didn't explain the need for a mechanic. But during the Ishvalan Civil War, many Ishvalan refugees fled to Xerxes. So we thought it safe to assume the two are connected."

"Ah," the mechanic says knowingly. "And they put a State Alchemist in charge of finding a solution."

Roy swallows. Ah. She knows about him. It's not entirely surprising, but… "They did indeed," is all he says. There's no real explanation he can give, no excuse. It is what it is."

"Hm," Doctor Rockbell answers, noncommittal. "I will call back in two hours."

And she does, accepting the mission with two conditions. The military would help her pack up her entire shop and all the materials and tools would be transported with them – which was understandable, even if it tripled the estimated convoy size. The other condition was that she was taking her eleven year old apprentice with her. Both conditions Roy readily agreed to, tasking Havoc and Fallman with her packing while the rest of the team arranged the convoy.

"Guess we're going to Xerxes then. We're going to need a lot of camels," Breda muses.

"Yes," Roy agrees and sighs. It would be a hard journey and probably a hard mission, and likely one for very little gain in the end. Still. Xerxes. His alchemy master would've killed for the opportunity. Might as well take full advantage of it, and learn whatever he can, even if it's only from broken murals on ancient ruins.

-

Hmm... not sure I’m getting Mustang’s voice right.

Edit: Also tumblr eats italics for breakfast apparently.