#the assassin and the snowflake

[ghxst-bird]

Unpopular opinion:

Toji and Jin should have met and and become besties that raised their sons together.

[acquired-stardust]

Tenchu: Stealth Assassins Playstation 1998

[jarviskingston]

🌏🌎🌍

[emacrow]

The Wayne's garden was magic.

Damian didn't understand the bats meant as he roam around, alfred's prized fruits, vegetables and flowers lay neatly around.

The Wayne's garden was huge in size as he found a total of 37 hidden weapons locations so far and was still counting.

It was a pass time game to him to see what father added, only for Damian to see a little glow flicker between a hedge near what seemed to an old abandoned broken down well.

That certainly looks like a secret entrance to the batman cave, not far from here, and if not, he has his grappling hook with him.

Damian looked down the well. It was dark and deep down below, not a speck o- but there.

A two flicker of glowing blue light flash very down below before vanishing. He didn't think a second later as he leap down into the well.

The bricks of the well wall seemed to go on for a minute as he fell, only for his falling feeling lighter and lighter as he went down.

A gun blaster lodges in the dirt, and Damian fell on a dust covered star theme bed that bends over but never falls with him. A tea cup full of glowing much greener lararus pits floated around as the walls became from dirt like to frozen ice with a star embedded in them.

Damian held up his grappling hook to shoot upwardsit to malfunction was when he panicked.

only for him to land on top of something soft and fluffy, bounced a few times, but cold as ice, a gigantic room that was covered floor up to the ceiling in frosted ice with odd languages, thousands, and thousands of doors with variety of sizes and shape, two massive baby sized crib with two bundles wrapped in white fluff fur Damian was sitting on.

The Wayne's garden was magic that went across damian's mind only for he noticed what he was laying on was still moving slowly.

Damian glances downwards to notice he is sitting on a giant white fluff of a much more gargantuan person.

Hair white as snow with icicles and frosty snowflakes, a floating massive crown covered in snow and stars insides, skin paler than white paint, a icy breath leak out, sprinkling shining snow and stardust as they lay in a frozen bed the size of Wayne's manor itself.

It was cold, icy cold even with Damian's training in the League of Assassins couldn't withstand this. His consciousness fading with each cold breath he took before the last sight was the large bright, shining, pale greenish blue eyes opening to see him before darkness took him alongside the blinding green.

...

..

.

Damian would only wake up to his frantic father, lightly shaking him awake as he lay in the garden between the hedges. The day was still out, except for one thing that was missing was the old broken down well.

Tiny patch of frosty blue flowers instead was there in its place.

[eowynstwin]

Ghoap x reader. Autistic reader. Christmas angst. Allusions to Ghost’s backstory. Salacious use of ribbon. Soap being inappropriate. NSFW.

Soap fidgets on the train the whole way over to the light show. You don’t notice, of course, your earplugs are in, but Ghost, hypervigilant for the season, cocks an eyebrow.

“Itches like mad,” Soap grouses. He tugs at the collar of his sweater, a ghastly thing in fuzzy green, red, and gold, with LED bulbs embroidered down the front.

Ghost scowls at him. Soap purses his lips, not chastened. You sit between them, oblivious, fingering the zipper of your purse.

There’s enough cheer on the train to make up for their collective lack. More than one person wears a dumb Santa hat, and at least every other has on something colorful and festive. It seems like everyone feels some sort of Christmas spirit but Ghost, and it makes his hackles tense up.

Your hand slips into his then, smooth like silk settling over his palm. He looks at you; your gaze is fixed steadily ahead, unfocused. He’s not sure whether you reached for him to find comfort or offer it, but he closes his fingers around yours anyway.

He looks over—Soap has your other hand. Reaching to find, then. He squeezes.

The three of you wait until the very last moment to disembark when you arrive, letting the crowd out first. Ghost’s choice. The absolute last thing he wants is to lose either you or Soap in the stream of people flowing from the train—Soap will get distracted, and you hate it when strangers crowd you. This is going to be a trial as it is.

Ghost has to admit—once they reach the grounds, the displays are something to see. Together, you walk through a tunnel of lights leading you to the beginning of the walk, rings of warm white gently shining overhead, and Ghost, despite himself, can’t help but admire how it makes both of his partners look like they’re glowing.

Then Soap tugs at his sweater again, and Ghost bites down a growl.

“Oh, hot chocolate,” you say at the end of the tunnel, looking over at a cart laden with a few big steel samovars. “I’m going to get some, either of you want any?”

“Cider,” Ghost says, softening the curtness of his tone with the tenner he hands you. “If they’ve got any.”

“Coffee for me, hen, if you don’t mind,” Soap adds with a smile. You nod, and scurry toward the drinks.

Soap eyes him. Ghost knows what he sees—his back has been ramrod straight since the bloody month started. He holds his shoulders the same way he might if he had his rifle across his chest. His jaw has been hard as a cinder block any time the market clerk tossed “happy holidays” at him when he did his best to get away as fast as he could.

“Don’t,” Ghost says.

Soap says nothing.

This is not their first Christmas together, but it is their first with you. The sergeant already knows how Ghost feels about the holiday; you do not, and Ghost wants to keep it that way for a little while longer.

Divining your feelings about anything takes a little longer than it might with anyone else, but he’s pretty sure you’re excited, in your way. Soap, for whom pine trees and glitter and the smell of snow in the air seem to activate a sleeper agent in his brain that orgasms at the mere sight of tinsel, already has a Wellington resting in their shared fridge, and artfully wrapped presents crammed under their pre-lit tree. The two of you together have flooded the flat with lights, candy-cane frippery, crocheted snowflake doilies, and ski-lodge scented candles.

Ghost, for his part, has scrolled various travel websites to figure out if assassinating Santa Claus is something actually feasible. Maybe if he defeats the final boss of Christmas he can actually sleep through the night at least once this month.

It isn’t that he hates it, exactly. It’s just that Christmas, to him, began as a hazy game of roulette, wondering if the wild animal of his father would appear to ruin the exchange of charity-shop gifts wrapped in reused paper, and then solidified as an image reflected in pools of spreading blood.

The last happy Christmas, he had to burn down. That’s no reason that he has to ruin it for everyone else, though.

You return with three paper cups held awkwardly in your two hands, and Ghost and Soap relieve you of your burden. Your cup has a peppermint stick jutting up out of it, and you use it to stir your steaming drink periodically as the three of you proceed.

The path leads through an army of glowing snowmen in mismatched sizes, life-size gingerbread houses, past multicolor balls tossed across the top of a frozen pond. Trees banded with so many strings they look like branches of lightning reaching up from the earth. Electric snowflakes dangling above your heads from netting stretched between lampposts.

Ghost keeps clenching and unclenching his fist. His cider goes rapidly cold in his other hand, untouched. He probably can’t get his money back for it, but he’s agitated enough to start a fight and try.

Meanwhile—it’s obvious, you’re enjoying yourself immensely. You don’t say much as you flit between installations, running a hand over the glowing bulbs, tilting your head this way and that like a curious little bird. You take your phone out more than once to open your camera, and Ghost knows you’re saving pictures to put together a slideshow later on.

More than once, you look back at him and Soap, and grin wide at some novelty or another. Ghost manages to nod his head at you—go on, little birdie, keep having fun.

“Jesus,” Soap mutters, trying to scratch at a spot on his back for the third time.

“Fuck’s sake, Soap, just take the fucking thing off,” Ghost snaps.

“Canna,” Soap says.

“Why the fuck not?”

Soap’s mouth slants sideways. He looks around for spectators, and, finding none within eyeshot, lifts the bottom of the sweater.

Bright, shiny, very red ribbon runs in two lines along the naked cut of his obliques—down past the waistband of his trousers.

Ghost tosses the cider out of his cup and grips Soap by the back of the neck, throws, “OY! Duckie! Bathroom!” at you, and drags his boyfriend to the nearby public loo.

It’s empty, thank god, so Ghost wastes no time yanking the closure of Soap’s trousers open. The ribbon continues downward, downward, the V narrowing and narrowing until—

It converges in a (somewhat lopsided) bow tied right around the base of Soap’s dick.

“Soap, what the fuck,” Ghost says.

The sergeant backs up, and pulls the sweater fully off. It reveals a latticework of satiny red crisscrossing his chiseled torso: lines of ribbon accenting the curves of his pectorals, his toned abdomen, highlighting the small indent of his trim waist.

Soap’s cheeks flush pink.

“Goes further down,” he mutters, not meeting Ghost’s eye.

“What the fuck,” Ghost repeats.

“Was gonna do a big reveal when we got home,” Soap says. “Start stripping when we got the door closed. That rubbish.”

Ghost, incredulously, snorts, and Soap smiles at him.

“First time you’ve laughed this month,” he says quietly. “S’ why I did it.”

Ghost steps up to him and takes Soap’s chin between thumb and forefinger. “You fucking idiot,” he says, and kisses him.

The bathroom door opens, letting in a gust of wind, and Ghost and Soap jump back from each other momentarily, before relaxing when your voice reaches them.

“There better not be a handjob happening in here without me—oh,” you say, stopping short.

Shoving the waist of his pants down further, Soap turns around to show off to you the full extent of what he’s done. It gives Ghost a good look at the pretty intersections happening overtop of the muscles of Soap’s back, and the dip of the ribbon down between the two perfect globes of Soap’s arse.

You blink several times. “There isn’t a lock on this door, Soap. If I get down to suck you off, someone is going to come in.”

Impossibly, Ghost snorts again, and then laughs for real, a full-belly guffaw that comes out a little more harsh than it should. But you grin at him, and the line of Soap’s shoulders, which Ghost suddenly realizes has been as tense as his this whole time, relaxes.

He pecks the bare swell of Soap’s bicep, and then the crown of your head as he passes you by.

“I’ll hold it closed, duckie,” he says. “Do whatever you want.”

He only leaves the door once when he hears you shriek suddenly with laughter—to find that Soap has decorated his cock with a peppermint-loop of red lipstick, all the way to the tip.

“Fucking idiot,” Ghost repeats, and cancels his trip to the North Pole then and there.

[starrluvs]

Imagine.. Lin kaui trio getting caught in the middle of spicy time. Oh poor tomas is gonna have it the worsts 😭

𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐊𝐔𝐄𝐈 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎 + 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐗

cw: fem reader, piv sex, established relationships?, loud sex, getting caught/walked in on, bi-han is a grumpy old man and a light sleeper, harumi is here too lol, smoke is a good boy ofc, mdni !

wc: 1.7k

a/n: im finally back to writing omg sorry for long wait :c but this was super fun to write omg nonnie i love this scenario so much!! i hope you enjoy🫶🏾💗

𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐒𝐔𝐁-𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎

“bi-hannn! oh my god—!” 

you were bent over on his desk in a face down ass up position as bi-han ravaged your insides with no mercy. the sheer power and speed of his thrusts trapped you in a euphoric state, relishing all the pleasure being delivered to you. 

bi-han’s chest was flush on your sweat covered back and his lips were close to your ear, forcing you to hear every provocative word and sound that left his mouth.

“calling out to any god won’t serve you any purpose, snowflake, not while i’m in control of you, ngh!—”

he feels the way you clench around his cock, making him grin and rest his face in the crook of your neck, placing chilled kisses all over it. having bi-han so close to you was starting to feel overwhelming.

the way his hands were planted on your hips, digging into your flesh and forcing your body to withstand his thrusts– you nibble on your bottom lip, squealing as your lover practically rearranged your guts.

the two of you were lost in the feeling of each other’s bodies, just striving to both reach your own highs. “f-fuck.. it feels so good– your cock, ah!- feels so g-good,” your words come out slurred and bi-han mockingly chuckles.

though, much to your surprise, you don’t get to hear your grandmaster’s voice talk back to you.

“brother, i was wondering if y–”

the cryomancer comes to a halt and your eyes widen as you see tomas standing at the entrance of bi-han’s office. both you and bi-han react and speak up in unison,

“t-tomas!?” 

“you imbecile! has nobody ever taught you the decency of knocking?”

the younger assassin’s face turns a deep shade of red, just standing like a deer in headlights, “i-i’m so sorry, i–” tomas’ eyes darted everywhere and it was obvious that he was desperately trying to avoid making eye contact with you and bi-han. 

tomas’ words seemed to be stuck in his throat, resulting in an awkward silence until the cryomancer groaned in annoyance, causing his younger brother to quickly exit the office and close the door shut.

to say you felt embarrassed was an understatement… but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that feeling once you felt bi-han pull out of you and mumble something to himself in a displeased tone. his lust filled expression from mere moments ago has returned to his usual grumpy look, and you noticed his cock started to soften back up rather quickly which caused you to pout.

“wait, bi-han!” you whine and and adjust yourself to (wobbly) stand up straight and grab on to the grandmaster’s toned arms, “you can’t just leave me hanging like that–”

meanwhile, tomas was quite sad he never got to ask if you and bi-han wanted to tag along for a bite at madam bo’s…

𝐊𝐔𝐀𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐆 | 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎𝐍

“every part of you is breathtaking, my love.”

kuai liang’s big, warm hands traveled from your hips to your tits. he groped at them and took your nipples between his fingers, occasionally rolling and tugging at them. “mmm.. kuai..” your voice was breathy and your moans were anything but quiet, which was why you attempted to cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

the pyromancer chuckled from beneath you and called out your name, “none of that, i want to hear you.” before you could even make a next move, kuai liang’s hands traveled back down your body as he rubbed your swollen clit in quick circles with the pad of his thumb. 

you almost felt embarrassed by the way your cunt clamped down on his cock–

arching your back, you cry out and place your hands on kuai liang’s chest to keep yourself balanced. “oh, fuck!–” your bouncing comes to a halt as you begin to grind your hips in a smooth motion, making you feel his cock massage all the perfect areas of your sensitive walls.

he stops his motions on your clit to grab your rear, kneading and groping it to his heart's content. kuai liang hums in pleasure as you continue to roll your hips on him, “you have the body of a goddess, ngh..” his voice is raspy and he moves his hand up to your lower back, urging you to lean close against him.

a sigh escapes your lips and you gladly fall into his embrace, leaning into a sloppy yet passionate kiss with him. caging your body against his, the two of you both had your chests pressed together while your hands explored kuai liang’s messy undone hair, and his hands ran up and down your back.

kuai liang breaks the kiss and you whine, “can you, haah!– please..” your cheeks feel hot and you can hardly talk properly with how deep his cock was nestled inside of you. fortunately, the pyromancer understood what you were trying to vocalize.

he grins at you before grabbing a hold of your hips and fucking up into you, “mmph– is this what you wanted? tell me,” his voice and volume was under control, unlike yours— the sounds you made only became louder and more obscene. “yessss! shit, i needed th—”

“will you two ever shut up!?” 

the sudden sound of the door booming and the angered voice that follows makes kuai liang pause all of his movements. 

the pyromancer quickly tried to use the bed sheets to cover you up as much as he could. once you noticed who had barged in, you hid yourself in kuai liang’s chest out of embarrassment. “bi-han, what are y—” his voice was cut off almost immediately by the cryomancer.

“are you not aware of the time?” bi-han’s tone was undeniably rude and snappy, but you couldn’t bear to listen to the rest of his angry tangent. you felt kuai liang’s soft grip on your body as you continued to keep yourself covered. he then spoke up, “do you mind? you can’t just barge in like that, brother..” perhaps it was for your sake that kuai liang remained calm, but bi-han had no intentions of letting up, resulting in him giving the two of you an authoritative lecture before storming off grumpily.

maybe you’ll try and keep track of your volume next time.

𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐀| 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄

“does it f-feel good..?”

tomas was panting above you, completely entranced by the way your pussy squeezed around his hardened cock. you smile up at him, “of course, baby–” the sounds of your moans weren’t helping him keep his composure. 

the look on his face was to die for– his smile held a sense of relief and happiness to know he was making you feel good. it was as if he forgot how perfectly he was driving his cock against your walls.

tomas is a good boy, really. after all, he always makes sure your pleasure is the top priority. deciding to please you even more, tomas grasps one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder while leaning in closer to you. from this position, the thrusts of his cock only hit you deeper, making you arch your back and screw your eyes shut.

“open your eyes..please, ha, i wanna see you look back at me while i fuck you.” listening to his words, your eyes snap back open and look straight at him through a hazy, lust filled sight. tomas leans down to place a kiss on your cheek before dragging his lips to your ear and whispering out your name, “i t-think i'm close, ahh–” you dig your nails into his scalp, gripping on to his hair, “t-tomas, i think, mmph– i think m’ close too!” hearing your voice encouraged him to keep up his thrusts without getting sloppy– he needed to make you cum– he was desperate to feel the way your pussy pulsed around his cock whenever you climaxed.

he leans back up to face you properly, “tommyyy–” you called out to him and reached your free hand out to stroke his cheek. without any thoughts or hesitation, tomas leaned into your touch, speeding up his pace. 

the two of you were close. dangerously close– until the door opened and you heard two familiar voices…

“surprise!–”

you and tomas stop dead in your tracks before gasping and trying to cover each other's respective body parts. looking at the direction of the door, you see kuai liang and harumi, completely flustered and standing with plates of deliciously cooked meals to start the day off with.

“oh– apologies, we shouldn't have barged in like that, i–” kuai liang averted his gaze from tomas and looked at harumi, only hoping she would know what to say. though unfortunately for him, she didn’t.

in an attempt to wrap up this encounter rather quickly, the pyromacer suggests that he and harumi could kindly leave and wait until the two of you are done. your eyes darted back up to tomas, who looked red as a tomato. poor boy… you thought. no words were bound to leave his mouth as of now.

“there’s no need to apologize, kuai liang, truly. we’ll be down in a second!” you wanted to slap yourself for how embarrassingly out of breath you sounded, but judging by the way tomas’ face heated up, there were no thoughts registering in his brain that weren’t completely fried. 

kuai and harumi nod and gently close the door. as you hear the sounds of their footsteps take off in the distance, you let out a loud sigh. “come on, we’ve gotta get down there to eat.” pushing gently on tomas’ shoulder, you get him to snap back to his senses. was he totally blanked out from embarrassment? you’ll never know.

“yea, y-you're right..” he pulls out of you and scurries to get some clothes on. despite how embarrassing that moment was, you couldn’t help but giggle at how red tomas’ face still was as he changed into a clean and comfortable attire.

truth be told, he’d rather be banished from earthrealm than have to join kuai and harumi for their morning meal.

[wingsofmud]

The Star-Crossers

Doomed lovers my beloved. I want to make their relationship a lot more messy in my rewrite. So I want to make the shitty and good qualities between them a lot more even. I have so much to say about them so, without further ado:

Info + Heights Below:

Prince Arctic

Queen Diamond's only son and the betrothed of Duchess Snowflake, his life has been determined since before he was laid. Of course, the animus abilities were a bit of a surprise, but the possibility had already been accounted for. Such is the life of a drake in the Everfrost Palace. Arctic was prepared to live an uninteresting life as a fixture in Snowflake's household... until he met Foeslayer.

Big, bold, and a bit vulgar, she caught his eye immediately. Like most Icewings, Arctic had never seen a Nightwing before. She was incredible. Like something out of a fairytale. A knight with shining scales. She had so many stories of her home, of places and creatures he'd never seen and never would see. Arctic fell fast and fell hard in the month she was there.

So hard in fact, that on the eve of his 20th hatchday, his wedding, and the night Foeslayer was to return home, he fled to her quarters and professed his love and intention to run away with her. Things escalated very quickly from there. There were dragons chasing them. Someone grabbed him. There was a scuffle but...well... Icewings, upper circle Icewings at least, don't feel the cold. But there was suddenly blue on his scales and he felt its chill. He'd never seen a body before.

They married that same year. Arctic did not expect to be so...alone. A prince has more allies than friends, but at least he was surrounded by dragons like him. He didn't understand the way Nightwings spoke, their differing formalities, their jokes, their gods, their stories, their food, their...anything really. Not to mention their spirit-forsaken sleeping schedule. Sleep deprivation has become a constant in his life, especially after the dragonets were born.

On top of that, Foeslayer was around less and less often as things escalated between the Nightwings and Icewings into full-scale war. Arctic was often left to care for the dragonets on his own while also having to navigate the Nightwing Court by himself, which was a different beast entirely than the Icewing Court. While Prudence is often there, she doesn't exactly have his best interests in mind. He has little authority in the decisions made surrounding his children.

He doesn't quite regret leaving his mother's Queendom, especially after she attempts to assassinate him, but he does wish he'd done things differently.

.

Foeslayer

So Foeslayer fell for the elegant little Icewing prince like some sap in a dragonet's romance scroll. Sue her. But, truth be told, Foeslayer had no real intention of marrying Prince Arctic when she first met him. It simply couldn't work. They could have a bit of fun, but she would have to return to her Queendom and he'd be married within Oracle's blink.

Safe to say that having the prince barge into her room the night before his wedding day wanting to elope with her then having to suddenly flee under threat of death for kidnapping a royal thus ruining months of careful negotiations was not exactly on her year's bingo card. It is unclear whether or not Foeslayer would've married Arctic were their situations different. As it were, she could not simply leave him to fend for himself in a foreign land. She loves him, truly, but it would be a lie to say the marriage wasn't at least partially out of obligation.

Yes, perhaps Arctic does have a point that she tends to ignore issues, especially those in the household, but she does not want to return from a bloody, death-ridden battlefield to problems at home as well. She doesn't exactly get to spend much time with her dragonets. And for Imperial's sake, he could stand to lighten up a little. He's not in the court 24/7, he doesn't need to act like it.

While Arctic generally isn't shy making it known when he has an issue with something, Foeslayer tends to keep it all in. She treats personal problems like they'll go away if you ignore them, but of course this only lets them build and fester. Spending days, weeks, or even months at a time on the battlefield does not help. She has... so many feelings about this whole situation, about Arctic, about this war, about her family, but she's unwilling to examine any of them. She's afraid of what she might find if she does.

That isn't to say their relationship is all bad, much of it isn't, but they do seem to be fighting more and more as the children grow.

.

Height Comparison:

Foeslayer is very big for a Nightwing. Upper Circle Icewings tend to be taller while Nightwings tend to be larger.

Male and female Nightwings are about the same size while male Icewings tend to be smaller than females.

Foeslayer and Arctic are about 2 years apart in age. Foeslayer is older.

[chocsra]

"Eternal Damnation."

PM! dazai x fem! immortal reader

a/n: apolgies for my absence. i was planning to write but everytime i could something piled up 🙁. thank u to @cherylpoptarts for the sudden reqs which piqued my interest immensely. ill work on my pending requests another time. enjoy the angst.

summary: you, an ability user who is able to automatically heal has been alive for centuries, constantly avoiding death. in the midst of it all, you hire an assassination, not for anyone, but yourself.

content warnings: suicide, mercy killing, insanity, assisted suicide, angst, small oneshot/long drabble, pm! dazai, (i hate this sm)

Lukewarm.

A temperature that was not too cold or hot; tepid. Little enthusiasm or indifference.

Similar to the freezing snow cooling down your neck into your back during Japanese winters. Catching snowflakes in the heat of your palm did not melt the bitter cold engulfing your being. Lukewarm was your companion throughout the tedious years of this beautiful thing we call 'living'. Lukewarm is the only comfort you know of.

There was a cut that always bled, never fully healed, the scab that you reckon to always pick off. Lukewarm water would wash over your scabbed wounds, into your eyes, and swallow you whole. You'd watch your loved ones become engulfed in a scorching heat, the bubbling fire scraping and tearing over old, bitter skin.

You'd run your fingers over the freshly new skin and everlastingly massaged joints. You never became old. You never felt hurt. You never were hurt—for long of course. For healing was your salvation, your ability, your gift—your curse.

"Winter is over soon,"

you muttered softly, the melancholic rebirth of nature prospecting over the misty blankets of snow surrounding you. Spring. The season when flower seedlings, trapped beneath infertile soil, reawaken and sprout; revelling in rich petals and leaves, calmly drifting in the cool breeze. You've seen it one too many times; 134—to be exact.

"And that's your reason?"

Your eyelids never falter your solemn, sad look. Continue to stuff your hands deep in your pockets to escape the cooling air, huffing out as you also fidget with the origami you've been toying with. "I'm not sure what you mean," you reply, eyes gazing over to the melting body of water, a local river as you stand over its bridge. For it was a beautiful sight, nature did this annual thing called grow—rebirth, if you may. And as many others hated the cold breeze that nature gifted, somehow, you basked in it. —"You want me to kill you because winter's over soon."

...

Right, you forgot the predicament you were in. Merciful. Yearning. Bright. Though the man beside you excluded the exact opposite of those adjectives, you cannot help but feel this funny thing called desperation—besides, you've heard it all, no 'youngest mafia executive' is truly evil. To you, he is only just a boy, a foolish boy. "I have lots of riches. You can even take my house, it's not dirty money."

"I see,"

A harsh breeze of wind swiftly picked up the origami that you were crafting from your hands, reaching out to grab the piece—a cold hand catches it and holds the folded paper in front of you, extending his hand. "you forget that you can't approach mafiosos on the street pleading for suicide, y'know? That sort of desperation is seen as dirty."

On the surface level, his words seemed like an insult; it was utterly offensive to refer to a person's actions as filthy. However, there wasn't any hint of insult in his voice—he even seemed amused. He, was a young man wrapped around in a beige scarf and black trenchcoat engulfing his entire body; he, was practically swimming in it. He, had brown wavy locks that framed his face. He, for some odd reason, was covered in bandages. —not the gauze you'd find wrapping around wounds, one similar to a mummy. And he, who looked like he lacked self-care, though you would be able to take in his pleasant features.

"Am I pleading?—" You snatch the origami away from his hand, "It's more like a deal. Consider it a paid assassination." the brunette merely scoffs, light air huffing out of his lips as he stuffs his hand back into his pocket. "Our conduct doesn't consist of mercy killing or assisted suicide," the man chuckles, peering along the barely frozen body of water. "nor unarranged business deals. But I'd like to know one thing,"

You lift your gaze meeting his in curiosity, taking in the soft features of his face, yet he brimmed with impurity. The slopes of his cheeks were so slim, and that followed through his lanky frame - a face that didn't seem boyish at all. Merciful. Yearning. Bright. He screamed an antonym of those words —Cruel. Repulsed. Dark.

"Why is it you want to die?" he asks, watching intricately as you brush your thumb continually over the origami you were making: a crafted swan. The brunette seemed rather impressed, watching - your skills seem exactly like traditional art of origamis: something he'd see in an old painting or lost crafts book. Swans - which symbolised eternal love, you seemed anything but loving. Maybe, it had just been eternal. An eternity without love.

"My journey started with helping others live. But once you start taking the breath of living for granted, it becomes the very reason you wish to die. I. suppose I've met my limit with that. With living." you reminisce the past, the melancholic nights under blankets under the same winter—the spring, autumn, or summer. In the blessing of longevity, there was a problem; for what you've gained, there was also lost. Death of others—an eternity without love was your reality. Your resentful condemnation.

"I understand."

At this moment, the mafioso didn't seem so cruel; it was almost sympathetic, you'd think as he gazes over the river. "I've never understood the purpose of living if that makes you feel any better."

...

"You're not very good at comforting, are you?" an unexpected chuckle escaped his lips, "I'd at least expect an immortal to be a nihilist." you remotely scoff at his revelation. "Stupid. There's a reason why I want to die, I understand the meaning of living." the brunette rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. "Well, I don't understand the meaning of living hence why I want to die."

You chuckle, "For a mafioso, you are sassy."

"For a beauty, you are quite rude." He smiles indifferently.

It's almost funny, actually. How casual that conversation was.

Engulfed in the flames of this beautiful thing we call living, you finally obtain that sweet release of death the moment you intertwine fingers with a young mafioso—one who reeked of death.

The flames that engulfed you were lukewarm, but he was different. He was warm, almost scorching. Scorching an angelic heat that cascaded into the palms of your hand all the way to your shoulders and neck. The feeling was deftly abstract, and you basked in it; the way he'd hold you so close, run bandaged hands over the slope of your cheeks, whisper untangible nothings near the shell of your ear.

"Death is the absence of life, the desire I've been longing to taste since adolescence."

Mist and smoke fill around the room, almost making you feel dizzy. There were a lot of turbulent emotions circulating through your brain. First, you were relieved. You've been insensitive to death for a while, the times you did cry for someone—it was out of relief. The sweet relief that that one person would not have to suffer. You suppose it was the same for yourself. You would meet your demise in the arms of a fallen angel. Fall into the fiery pits of hell, or be welcomed by heaven's gate through a smoky embrace of whiskey and canned crab.

"I'm a bit envious of you, actually," Dazai murmurs, his thumb which was once connected to a trigger, soothingly rubbing your skin. "you'll meet this desire before me." you often wonder, what was the man's infatuation with death? He was in the mafia from a young age, he must've been associated with all forms of death. Ranging from a loved one withering away, to open guts and blood-stained lips. The absence of life can be seen through the empty carcass of one's body, the glint of vitality in their eyes disappearing.

Dazai Osamu was unique. In fact, he never had that glint in his eyes. His carcass was handsome, he was the product of love and passion. However, the eyes—his eyes, which were the window of the soul, were a dark void, abyssal, vantablack. He was unreadable. The brunette's experiences, his beliefs, his spiritual grounding. Dazai Osamu yearned for death, but for what he learned as just a boy, he did not meet death—but became it.

You had a connection. The special origami of a swan—meaning eternal love. He wanted eternal, you wanted love. In the end, none of you were happy. And so, he'll give you peace, and you'll give him understanding. The carcass you're going to become is much different from a being he merely murdered. Dazai moves a hand from interlocking with yours, to cup both of your cheeks. Warm and rosy cheeks.

"I'm sorry,"

He had fluttered his eyes shut and leaned his forehead on your temple. Despite the burning fire ignited by the candle of his flesh alone, his warm and shallow breaths gave you a balmy breather from this feeling called lukewarm.

Crack.

Lukewarm. 

"I see you got what you wanted, huh?"

You stood atop a bridge from frozen water with a black scarf snuggled tightly around your neck.

A brunette man averted his gaze to you with a confused stare. The gape of which was rather familiar, one that excluded a slight glint of vitality, but other than that, abyssal. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

He adjusted the bandage on his finger, in which you assumed he cut his finger on something. "Nope. But I made an extra origami, do you want one?"

Silence. "..Sure."

The mysterious man picked up the crafted paper with suspicion. His gaze softens as he sees a professionally crafted swan. "I feel like we've met before—actually, I'm sure of it."

"Not too sure about that."

chocsra™

[physics-of-one-piece]

Since I did what Doflamingo does/says in I'll build castles for you, my love (look at me, not my brother) (Rosinante x Reader x Doflamingo WIP) I bring the aforementioned brother from the title and a snippet (which is before he dies but I wrote it and nearly cried, so I thought it was worth a share) with him:

Some NSFW mentions in the bulletpoints but nothing descriptive:

Gets into a first bath in a month with Law and bathes him, trips on the floor getting out the bath

trips and falls in his own house in a hurry to get the medicine for Law's fever

most softest 10 foot lover in the One Piece World but he absolutely can rock your world

always careful with his big hands

never holds himself to intimidate while home

has fun coloured sweaters and fun shirts

your favourite outfit of his is his blue dress shirt and white pants, he looks so FINE in that 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻 also his marine uniform without the coat 🫠

watches you fuss over Law and cries

he kneels down to hug you, and always loves getting his hair ruffled by you

peppers you with kisses when he comes home

removes make-up and makes Law scream thinking he's Doflamingo

"Did you think my actual name was Donquixote Corazon? Cutee~"

when asked by Law who you are, Rosinante blushes, smiles goofily and chuckles, saying "She's... my wife."

insulted by Law saying to you, "You deserve better."

dances with you in the kitchen

finishes his jobs for Doflamingo early so he can spend the rest of the days he is supposed to be away with you, which means this man sails to you as much as he can

spent two weeks with you and got you pregnant in that timeframe

always bring a bouquet and chocolates and souvenirs from islands he visited when he comes home to you

puts you in a Silent bubble so you can scream your anger/frustration away

his Silent is literally your therapy and when you tell him his Devil Fruit is your favourite Devil Fruit, he grins so bright, the sun wishes it could shine like that

you meet him when he crashes into you

How many guys can say their clumsiness got them a wife? Not many. Exactly, Rosinante is built different.

cries every time you make him pancakes for breakfast

actually a solid cook, but he needs to be watched, always have water nearby

You call him Rosi or Rosinante

He blushes when you call him Corazón or Cora-san. Once roleplayed as his "pirate" persona, and he managed for five minutes before breaking character and you laughed for a good ten minutes

you can get as loud as you want in the bedroom within his Silent bubble 😉

you love his red hat

he can bake cookies and they're sent from heaven

has his own marine squad since he's a Commander and his crew is awesome (original characters but I like them, you'll see)

kills a Celestial Dragon that tries to kidnap you and makes it look like an assassination by pirates - Sengoku is on board with it

humble and sweet wedding day, Rosinante cried the whole time

loves cuddles & loves your cooking

cried of joy when getting a lunch box for his journey with Law from you

takes the secret he has a wife to his grave, never mentioned you to Doflamingo, never let Doflamingo find out about you (considering the chapters with Doflamingo that come, very clear why)

died not knowing you were pregnant, as even you didn't know it at the time (I'm so sorry 😭)

And here is the snippet:

Your face flashed in his mind.

Sorry, mi amor. thought Rosinante.

The red lenses that have by now become his brother’s eyes stared down at Rosinante coldly, red stained glass reflecting the falling snowflakes.

Guess I’m not coming back home this time.

Rosinante was going to make sure Law gets away. He could get himself to Eudai by paying a fisherman to get him there. He’d be safe there, and with any luck, he could then decide what he wanted to do with his life. He knew you wouldn’t ask Law to stay with you if Law didn’t want to. You were good at reading the kid like that.

Law was a smart cookie. He’d probably activate his Devil Fruit powers in an hour from now on and heal himself within a minute. Rosinante knew it. He believed in it.

Rosinante isn’t worried about anything, he isn’t afraid. He is grateful. He is so grateful to be here, in this moment, on the side he considers right.

Not on the marines’ side. Not on the pirates’ side.

On Law’s side. He was Law’s Corazón now, not Doflamingo’s.

You said such to him yourself. Law saw Rosinante as his guide, Law trusted him, had faith in him, just like you did. Law had become a part of Rosinante’s family, your small family Rosinante was the patriarch of, the protector of. Rosinante wasn’t fighting for the marines now, or for the pirates. He was fighting for a sick little boy because nobody else would, nobody else wanted to, nobody else thought to, except him and you.

You had guided him and supported him to become the man he is today, catching him by the hand before he could trip and fall the same way his brother did. 

He remembered the first time you tried to teach him how to dance with him, and he ended up stepping on both your feet. 

“I’m so sorry! Please give me another chance.”

You told him, “Just enjoy the dance.” before pulling him into your first dance together, and he did as you asked, letting his legs follow the beat and the song, and it turned out okay. He never stepped on your feet again.

Six months later, he was dancing with you every day in the living room of the house the two of you called home, pulling you into a dance on the field of blue forget-me-nots, your sweet, soft laughter caressing his ears.

Because of you, Rosinante knew he’d never lose his way. Because if he did, you’d set him straight, grip his hand so he doesn’t fall apart. 

You were the flag Rosinante carried in his heart.

He felt so lucky to have you. He was the clumsiest, luckiest man on the planet. He never thought his clumsiness would bring him to you.

Rosinante was happy. Donquixote Rosinante was the happiest man on earth. He didn’t need any treasure, or an army, or a country, or immortality, or the world. None of those things could ever make him happy as living with you and Law did.

And Rosinante realised it then; it was that Doflamingo lacked. He had a family, but he also didn’t. For a moment, Rosinante pitied his brother, even though his brother had done it to himself. To live without experiencing pure happiness, genuine happiness, without hurting anyone to attain it… 

It must hurt, Doffy. thought Rosinante sadly. You must be lonely.

Rosinante looks at his older brother, and for the last time, there is a pang of pain in his heart at the sight of what his older brother has become. 

Rosinante pulled out the pistol, aiming it at his big brother — at Doffy, at Doffy — pulling back the safety pin, knowing very well he wouldn’t press the trigger, and knowing very well his brother would.

Rosinante really wished he’d gotten to dance with you one more time. 

***

Word Count Report:

Currently, Rosinante's part (Part 1) is 8.4k words, Doflamingo's Part 2 is 13k words so that one might get separated into 2 parts to keep it a normal word count. Part 3 (also Doflamingo) is the shortest at 4k words but there is a lot left to write and plan for that part.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail

[rekino2114]

Have headcanon of Yor and Fiona from spy x family with their S/O being kidnap by their enemy. S/O still don't know their real identity. This is bad day for kidnappers and like to see girl rage mode

Have yourself a good day and you're awesome :D

Yor briar and fiona frost's s/o getting kidnapped

Yor briar

Someone's gonna die tonight, most likely multiple people.

The moment she learns you got kidnapped, she instantly goes thorn princess mode, genuinely who thought it was a good idea to kidnap a famous assassin's lover? she was the angriest she had ever been and she showed absolutely no mercy.

She made her way through wherever you were being held captive slaughtering everyone she saw along the way and found you crying and tied up.

Her heart ached seeing you in that state, she hated seeing you like that and in her head it justified all murders she had just committed, she untied you, hugged you and started comforting you,even if she was covered in blood the familiar warmth of your wife's embrace still managed to calm you down.

"Shhh calm down, it's me honey, I know you have a lot of questions but just calm down for now, I'm here and you're safe now"

The conversation that followed was awkward but yor is really happy you still accepted her despite her job (she also got like 200% more protective over you wo good luck with that)

Fiona frost

Unlike yor, fiona won't kill anyone......intentionally, she might break someone spine while kicking them too hard.

She's busting down the place you're being held in with a group of WISE agents mere minutes after she finds out where it is and arresting everyone there.

She's genuinely terrifying to everyone there, asking where you are with a cold, deadly tone and a shadow over her eyes.

When she finds you, she feels both relieved and really guilty. She's happy you're alive but you wouldn't have ended up like this if it wasn't for you connection to her

"Snowflake, are you alright? It's me, fiona, everything's fine now,i've got you.....I'm sorry for all of this"

She's very glad you're not mad at her for hiding her job or indirectly getting you kidnapped. You just think it's really cool that your wife is a badass spy (she also got a lot more protective)

[seneon]

( IN THE ) GARDEN OF SINNERS .𖥔 ݁

SYNOPSIS . . . in which, a man with the lust for murder comes across a woman with no choice but to murder. there, they will drown in the garden of sinners together.

featuring. assassin¡touya todoroki × fem mage¡reader.

ᝰ CONTENTS . . . historical fantasy romance genre. set in ancient japan¡ au ( 1500s ) includes bloodspill, weapons, violence, sorcery, romance, and religious themes.

ᝰ NOTES . . . this mini series is heavily inspired by kara no kyoukai and alchemy of souls. i love knk so much it has a special place in my heart. listen the official knk playlist while reading for better experiences. happy reading, senation!

O1. SOMETHING AND NOTHING.

血 waters of the garden lake were soaked with the colour of wine red. spells and energies then comes undone at the feeling of the blood in the water.

O2. MAGICIAN.

血 the blade tainted with the blood of the dead is an achievement yet it portrays just how many souls had been a subject to murderous lust. can magic cleanse the stains?

O3. QUIET ROMANCE.

血 peace is such a foreign word. yet here they are, having such peace that fate did not grant them up until now. may they revel in each other's ecstasy of solace.

O4. SNOW IS FALLING.

血 first few kisses of the snowflakes is nothing but a mere frozen cry of the cold sorrowful weather. it remains to be stained by the blades and energies a deep hue of wine.

O5. EVERYTHING, NOT NOTHING.

血 the insatiable lust to murder is not present nor does it coexist with other living beings. it's simply nowhere to be found. oh the garden of sinners have consumed their sins.

THE GARDEN OF SINNERS PLAYLIST

MAGE AND ASSASSIN MOODBOARD

ᝰ TAGS . . . @w1nterelle @hyoismbbg @angeliicheartt @kyoghurts @heartkaji @skiiyoomin @choccorin @phtmmsqrde @harleys1nhawaii @va-3

©SENEON 2024 .𖥔 ݁ ( IN THE ) GARDEN OF SINNERS. do not ever repost, alter, and translate my work in any way.

[siren-141]

shame on me ✤ 3

last and final part 🖤 warnings: violence (not DV), angst

Cold. Tactical. Efficient. That’s how you had always lived your life; when you joined in with the Avengers, it was no different. Having been raised as essentially an assassin since you were a child, it was always in your mind to be situationally aware, look out for targets, but to keep in mind that you were to be undetectable; suave. Smooth. Elegant.

One man down; knife to the side of the throat, dragged into the bathroom stall. Suppressor screwed on. Enter the room. One shot; two, three, four – use him as a shield. Five, six – the clip’s empty. Targets eliminated. Rumlow eliminated. Exit the room. Smile at the bar staff and leave an average tip so you don’t draw attention to yourself. Is that blood on your cheek? No – must have been some lipstick smudged. Exit the building. Get back to the safe house.

Open the door. Hear that beeping? Run, run, runrunrunrun-

Everything was hazy. Everything was going in and out of darkness. Where’s your training? Get it together. You managed to move your arms and legs, pushing up to get on all fours. You turned back, looking at the safe house that was still burning. You blacked out. When you woke up again, the flames had gone down, but were still there. Was anyone coming?

That’s the fun part about solo missions – you’re all by yourself. You looked around the dirt, looking for the flip phone that was in your jacket pocket before your house blew up with you halfway in it. They must have put the bomb in my room. Are they going to double back to see if I’m dead? No – they’re all dead too.

Your eyes landed on the phone about 15 feet away, and you hauled yourself through the dirt in your torn up dress, letting out a pained scream as your wounds dragged across the ground. Grabbing your phone, you hit the number 1 on speed dial.

“What’s the weather like up there?” What was the fucking code phrase again?

“It’s…it’s- with every falling snowflake…a special- no, a unique- FUCK!” You could barely remember the phrase, your obvious concussion getting in the way. You were going to be stranded here forever, probably left for dead.

It was silent on the other end of the line. The operator could hear you begin to cry. “Agent number and operation?”

Thank god for the backup. “Agent 595259, operation Phantom,” you panted out. You could hear the operator typing on her computer.

Your vision began to fade, and looking down, you saw you had a sizeable gash on your side along with a few big cuts on your legs. You were losing a lot of blood. You used what strength you had left to try and stop the bleeding. Your consciousness was going out, your strength failing – you crumpled back to the ground. You stared at the sky, trees towering above you and partially covering the stars.

“Exfil sent, agent. Stay where yo-”

It surely was a sight to see when the jet touched down and the two medics came rushing in your direction. A cabin in the woods completely burnt to a crisp, surprised that the frame was still standing. A girl lying on the ground in a small pool of blood, dress torn and fabric crudely tied around your waist. Phone just out of reach of your hand. Pulse barely hanging on. The medics wished that they could have stabilized you better – but all they had was their undeniable skill and a prayer to whoever would listen.

The jet landed on the helipad at the top of the tower, medical professionals inside the building already clearing a path. It had caused obvious alarm and people had begun to gather, panicking. What could have happened that they needed to clear- oh.

The medics rushed you down the halls, yelling out codes and other medical terminology that very few of the bystanding Avengers understood. But what they did understand was clear:

“BP is dropping quick and we can barely feel a pulse, get her into surgery quick!”

“What’s- oh my god.” Bucky pushed to the front of the crowd, not understanding why everyone was panicking until he saw your almost lifeless body being wheeled on a gurney and heading straight to surgery. He pushed past everyone, questioning the medics as to what happened and how it happened.

“Sir, you have to stay here, we will give updates when we have them,” and with that, he was left at the doors. Your life was in their hands now.

He sat down, head spinning. What could have gone so wrong? All of the different emotions built up inside him until he couldn’t deal with it anymore. He stood up, hands clenching closed and open, looking for something, anything to help. He brought the glass of water that had been sitting on the table to his lips, took one sip, and threw it against the wall. He yelled expletives, not knowing what he’d do if he’d lose you.

Hours had passed by before any doctor came to update the ones who stayed to wait for you. Sam, Bucky, and Wanda looked up from their seats, Bucky standing and meeting the doctor halfway.

“She’s alive. But still critical. It’s going to take a while for her to wake up, but you’re all free to wait in the room with her.” Bucky pushed past the doctor and made his way to your room, while Sam and Wanda breathed out a sigh of relief, Sam thanking the doctor for the update and Wanda going to update the others. When Bucky arrived in your room, he was devastated to see the condition you were in.

Cuts on your face, bruises and bandages on your legs, IVs with saline drips hooked up to your arms, a nasal cannula, EKG cables running from under your hospital gown to keep track of your pulse. It was a mess, this whole thing was a mess. He walked over to your side, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He knew you couldn’t feel it, but he couldn’t help himself.

For the rest of that day and half of the next, he didn’t leave your side – sitting slumped in the uncomfortable chair next to your bedside. And then he heard you rustling, heard you groan.

“Baby,” he rushed to your side, gently grabbing your hand, hope flooding his features. You were still heavily groggy, the morphine easing the pain, but still in bad shape. At least you weren’t bleeding out on Canadian soil anymore. You opened your eyes fully, and you just stared at him for a few seconds. But the events of the past month played in your mind.

It’s fucking hard being with you.

It’s always been hard to be with you.

We’re done.

The last thing you remembered was the snow falling around you. The last thing you remembered was thinking maybe now I can be at peace.

“Oh god, I’m so glad you’re awake,” he kissed your hand. You blinked up at him, zoning back into reality from your memories. You looked at his hand, seeing his ring was back on. It’s always been hard to be with you.

You used what little strength you had to pull your hand away and lay it back down next to you.

Bucky looked confused – he had the nerve to look confused. You looked away from him, focusing back on the fluorescent lights directly above you.

“I…I didn’t know if you were coming back,” he tried to brush your hair out of your face, and you just flinched away.

“I almost didn’t,” you manage to whisper, voice still hoarse from not using it for two days.

“But you’re here now, that’s what matters.” He had the nerve to still try and smile, even though you couldn’t even look at him. He thought maybe, just maybe, it would take some time. Maybe you were just not feeling well, maybe it was the concussion, maybe you just needed more rest and things would go back to normal. “I just…I was so worried about you, baby. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

You let his words hang in the silence of your medical room. You couldn’t even bear to see him in your peripherals. “I wish you hadn’t.”

He deflated at your last words. Shoulders slumped from their once tense position, eyes falling to look at your bed rather than your face. He hadn’t realized how serious all of this was – the fight, the mission. It was just another fight like any other fight, he figured the relationship would mend itself. He figured that everything would be okay now that you’re back home and alive. How could he stay apart from you now that you had almost died and he had just gotten you back?

He sat back down in the chair, keeping a close watch on your vitals as you just stared at the clock on the opposite wall, watching the time go by.

Two more weeks had passed, and you were doing better. Bouquets of flowers showed up on the little tables in the room from various Avengers. Your closer friends had come to visit you, checking up every day to see how you were doing and if you needed anything. You had begun to walk with the assistance of the nursing staff – they were so kind to you and so patient. One time Bucky tried to help you on your other side when you got up to exercise your legs, and you just pulled your arm away from him, still not looking at him. He stood there and just watched as you walked on, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. When were things going to get better?

Another two weeks had passed. You were back on your feet, fully mobile but with a wince in your step. Your bruises had cleared up and your cuts were healing nicely. The stitches in your side were working, and they looked good. No infection, nothing going wrong with them. Textbook recovery.

It was a Thursday morning when Bucky walked into an empty medical room. The EKG cables and tabs were laying on the bed, IVs taken out and needles thrown away in the proper bin. Drawers were still left half open, bandages and other basic medical supplies missing. There was a note left on the table.

To my nursing and medical team: thank you from the bottom of my heart. I could not have lived or healed without your skills, efforts, and patience. I will always remember what you all did for me.

Bucky let the note flutter to the ground as he exited the room, looking around frantically. Running into the nurses, he hurriedly asked if she had seen where you’d gone, and she was just as surprised as him, running to your room. By the time he had left the medical wing, he heard her call over the loudspeaker for other medical staff to be on alert for a missing patient.

Running up the stairs and down the hallway of the 16th floor, he banged on your old room, damn near knocking it off of its hinges. No answer. He made his way back down to the common areas, where a couple of your friends had gathered.

Different flowers and gifts were placed around the conference table. Sam had your dog tags in his hand and a note in the other. To my big brother: take these to remember me while I take this journey. I’ll be watching over you.

Natasha shed a single tear over a note and some white lilies. I know you can find me no matter where I go – you’ve always been so gifted. Know that I’m here for you, but know that I’m not coming back. Don’t come looking for me. I love you.

Other members of the team had notes and trinkets that they were all reading over, talking with one another and speculating what happened, where you could have gone. Bucky looked around the table. There was nothing left for him.

Making his way to your old shared apartment, he burst through the door, leaving it wide open while he called out your name. There was no response. He entered your shared bedroom, mouth opened in shock as he spun around, taking in everything. Your phone was left sitting on your nightstand under the lamp along with your keys and wallet. The firebox that once stayed hidden in your closet was now out on the bed, all of your passports and important documents gone. Your tactical suits were left hanging in the closet, all of your clothes left folded in the dresser. Your guns, knives, and other gear that you had collected over the years were still in the hidden compartments.

Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed – the side you used to sleep on – and as he stared at the picture of you two hanging in a frame on the wall, he realized that he would never see you again.

I might do an epilogue, but I'm not sure yet. I hope everyone enjoys this last part of the mini-series 🖤 part 4

[acquired-stardust]

Tenchu: Stealth Assassins Playstation 1998

[iliketangerines]

Can write about how the the Lin Kuei brothers would react if a reader brought home a lost kitten?

I like to imagine Bihan thinks it's adorable but doesn't know what to do and is like "what do I do with it?" Bc it's so small while Kuai Liang becomes a cat dad immediately while Tomas turns into a puddle because of its cuteness 😂

the lost kitten

a/n: i did base bi han on my mom actually

pairing: bi han, kuai liang, tomas vrabda + gn!reader

warnings: none :)

Bi Han sits across from you with his arms crossed, hard glare set on you and the small ball of fluff curled up in your arms, and he says no

you give him a pout, begging him please please please to let you have a small kitten, and Kuai Liang sighs and says to his elder brother that he should just let you have the kitten

Bi Han scowls and gives another firm no, voice hard and unwavering, but Tomas on the other side of him seems to ignore his grandmaster’s words and rushes over to you

his fingers brush over the soft fur, and the kitten lets out a loud mew at the brush and swipes its little claws at the gray assassin

Tomas lets out a little gasp and then back to Bi Han, saying that they must keep the kitten, and the both of you attempt to give him your best puppy dog eyes

Bi Han scoffs but looks off to the side, and the two of you know that you’ve won

he may be a cold-hearted grandmaster, but he was weak to the will of you and his youngest brother no matter how hard he tried to dislike you both sometimes

then, he turns back and says that he’s not doing any work for the kitten, that all the work came down to you two since you both wanted the kitten so badly

you bow to him, thanking him profusely, and you grab onto Tomas’s shoulder and squeal with him excitedly as you bring the kitten back to your room and start planning what supplies you need to buy

Kuai bumps Bi Han with his shoulder, chuckling as he says that he knew that Bi Han would not be able to resist your charm

the grandmaster just rolls his eyes and stands up from his seat, stiffly walking back to his room

the next few days, you show up to training as usual, but the second Bi Han dismisses you and Tomas, the both of you rush off back to your room, laughing and trying to beat each other back

sometimes, even Kuai walked off to your room with the both of you to see the kitten that you nurse

only Bi Han had not seen the kitten again, and he wasn’t going to, soft and useless and much too helpless for him to care about it

except, while you’re at dinner, he passes by your room, and even out here he can hear the small angry mewls of the kitten in the room

he walks past, scoffing and reminding himself that the kitten was yours and Tomas’s job to take care of and if the kitten died of anger or hunger, it wasn’t his fault

ah, fuck, fine

he walks back to your room and slides open the door, and he finds the kitten at the entrance, mewing angrily and already trying to clumsily stomp out of the room, but Bi Han easily scoops the kitten up into his large hand and deposits it onto your bed

the kitten just lets out a scratchy mew and furiously stomps toward the door, and Bi Han turns them around again and again and again, finding amusement in how stubborn the kitten was

it reminded him of you in a way, and he stayed there until the kitten finally tired itself out and took a sleepy stomp forward and then promptly fell asleep right there

Bi Han watched it, chest rising up and down, fur sticking up in every which direction, and he runs a finger over its back

it really was quite soft, but the kitten wasn’t his responsibility and wasn’t his problem and wasn’t his anything

Bi Han left before you came back, vowing that he wouldn’t see the kitten again

except he did

when you were out for dinner, lunch, breakfast, whenever you and his brothers weren’t in your room fawning over the kitten, Bi Han would go

he made snowflakes for the kitten to chase, and he let it play with the little ice balls that he made, chasing them all around the room until it promptly fell asleep while running

Bi Han quickly learned that the kitten was called Moss and that he loved eating salmon, just like you

Tomas snuck salmon from the kitchens a few times, and the only reason Bi Han knew is because he was also there to sneak salmon to the kitten and had hid in the shadows

Kuai Liang would buy little toys from the market whenever he went into town, and Bi Han knew as well because he was also in town buying little things for the kitten

you played with the kitten the most, buying it food and outfits and treats and taking so many pictures of it on your phone, and Bi Han was jealous that you spent so much time with the kitten

Bi Han waited until you were out of the room, talking to Tomas about something, and then he snuck in from the window, crawling in silently, and the kitten meowed in excitement

it had been a few months since it had been here, and technically Moss had finally grown up, but he was still so tiny compared to the grandmaster

he was growing to be a ferocious warrior, sharp nails, loud attitude, and stubborn as an iceberg, and Bi Han often called Moss his little snowflake

he sat on the bed, letting Moss chase the little snowflakes, but then the cat yawned and crawled into Bi Han’s lap, purring loudly and falling asleep

the grandmaster sighed, petting Moss’s soft fur and sighing at how content the cat was, and then the door slid open and he heard you squeal and saw you pull out your phone

Kuai Liang has a shit-eating smirk on his face, and Tomas has his mouth open and then pouts that even Moss hadn’t sat in his lap yet

in the end, although Moss would always gravitate towards you, the cat definitely loved Bi Han the most

[popcornforone]

Little Red Bows

A Dave York Fan Fic

Merry Christmas everyone

Time for some festivities from our favourite stabby murder daddy, David Christopher York. Oooh & it’s rather delicious. Sorry shouldn’t hype it up but I’ve enjoyed writing & editing this one. Daves still number 1 for me.

Synopsis:- Dave admires your special wrapping skills so much so that he can’t wait to open his own Christmas gift.

Word Count:-3100

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING! Sex, lost of sex, including oral & anal, good play, innuendo, alcohol, swearing, chocking, teasing. Basically if you’ve read any of my Dave fics before you know what’s coming. Also the use of the word Daddy (I know it’s a trigger for some of you). The reader is Daves wife & the kids mum but you are not Carol (unless you want to be)

Thank yous lol so much for reading. Have an amazing festive period.

“Night night molly” he said as he kissed her head. Slowly leaving her bedroom, making sure the night light is glowing purple stars for her. He Silently closes the door. Not even a click. Being an assassin he’s good at that. Can get in & out without a sound. She’s fast asleep not even knowing she’s nodded off. Alice fell asleep much earlier.

Dave makes his way back down stairs & into the kitchen getting some ice from the freezer for his whiskey. As the top come off the bottle her hears you humming. You’re sat on the floor of the little snug area just down from the kitchen, headphones in, crafting away. Dave looks up to see you looking all cute eating a chocolate oranage wrapping up gifts. He gets another glass & pours you a whisky too before he slowly comes to join you. Even with your headphones on you can work out where he’s coming from. You take out the left ear pod & smirk.

“Both asleep?”

“Snug as a bug baby” he says as he leans down & hands you your glass. He goes to move but you grab his shirt. “Forget something did i?” He asks.

“You know it” your eyes widen & soon your lips meet deeply. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve kissed Dave it still feels so good. He’s always desperate for your touch & you are just desperate to be seen by him. He slips his tongue in for a few hungry seconds before pulling back & sighing. He sits on the sofa behind you putting his drink on the table & looks at the scene in front of him.

“How many more gifts to go” he says. In front of you are gift tags, stars, snowflakes, tape ribbons, bows, brown paper, wrapping paper, glitter paper, & lots of different colour pens.

“Tonight & tomorrow morning & we should be done except for whatever you’ve got me Dave but I can’t exactly wrap that up” you say. He rubs your shoulders.

“You do such a good job baby”

“I mean you said I didn’t have to go all out but it’s nice, I get some me time, I get to craft & create & it’s fun”

“Yes & then they get the gift & take off all the hard work you have done”

“You gonna have to open your gifts so slowly now on Christmas Day Dave” you point a gel pen at him as you write the next label.

“True but just look at this…” he hold up a ribbon you’ve curled with tape & attached to a bow. “… I mean yes I have a specific set of skills but this is beautiful.” You laugh “no seriously, these little bows, those ribbon curls, the personalised gift tags, it’s astonishing”

“It’s really not that hard Dave” you smile but are also secretly so proud. It takes a lot to impress Dave & he’s heaping praise on you. Or maybe he just wants his dick sucked. Or both. Probably both. “I could teach you” his hands roam over your shoulders. Yea he wants his dick sucked.

“Really,” he rests his head on your shoulder. “Show me baby.” He kisses your neck & you let out a tiny moan & sigh. You get out the ribbon & the scissors & show him how to curl it. Not that he’s looking at it & not that you care. He’s looking at the at the way your lips move as you speak, how your eyes light up with passion, how that mole on your chin is the most perfect beauty mark that people would pay thousands for & yet you’ve had it since birth.

“& then you cut their throat” you say bluntly. Dave shake his head in shock.

“WHAT!?” You giggle.

“I knew you weren’t listening Dave”

“Did you now” he grabs the scissors out of your hand. “You know I could kill you in 13 different ways with these scissors”

“But you’d never be able to make a pretty bow” you smirk as he pulls you into his lap. He’s hard, he’s very hard. You gulp down a few swigs of your whisky. You place your glass next to his as his hands roam your body.

“I think I’d have other pressing issues instead of bows & glitter” he says. His hands on the outside of your trousers rubbing the material so that it rubs against your clit.

“Dave stop” you moan but enjoying every second.”or at least promise you’ll help me tidy up a little for in the morning after this.”your own hand goes on auto pilot undoing his belt after you turned to face him. The zipper sound louder than the music in your remaining ear pod.

“You got it baby” he sits back on the sofa & man scapes. he’s got thick thighs but an even thicker dick that he just flops out of his boxers as you tie your hair up & gulp some of his whiskey down.”hey that’s…” but your lips meet his to shut him up. Passionate doesn’t cover the ferocity of the kiss.

“Yours baby, just like me Dave, I’m all yours” you trails your hands down his body eventually get to his penis. Leaking precum, erect & ready for pleasure. “Hello big boy” you moan before licking across the top of it, before looking up at Dave & spitting on his shaft. He loves it when you do that. He always tense up when you do it.

“So good to me sweetheart” his hand runs around a your face & he smirk & nods. He watches down as you engulf him. Bobbing. Taking him into your mouth, slowly. Gagging for his enjoyment. “That’s my girl” he thrusts into you & he grabs where you’ve tied your hair up. “You look all sweet but damn you love getting a facial” he keeps your head in place watching your eyes stream as he fucks your mouth. “God I love it when you gag, so fucking hot” he whines. You can see when you look into his eyes, he loves eye contact, he’s intense at everything, that he’s already approaching his peak. His eyes so dilated. The hand not holding your head gripping to the arm of the sofa for dear life. “Fuck sweetheart, fuck fuck fuck I… oooh fuck” hot ropes of cum spill down your throat & your mouth. He quickly lets go of your head & pulls his cock back. Splatters land on your face.”oooh fuck baby” he finishes to make sure your face glistens. He then looks at you, hands in your lap looking up at him pleadingly to mop up your face. He’s still breathless as he looks at you, trying to calm down.

“Dave”

“Hmmm” he then smile coming back to reality. “Kiss first then clean up & then I’ll look after you”

Christmas Eve has now rolled around. You spent the day with the girls baking cakes, cookies & getting some prep done for tomorrow’s Christmas dinner. Dave went & delivered a few gifts & apparently went to get your Christmas present, but you’ve worked it out already. He’s good at secrets on a life & death situation but not when it comes to the surprise 10 day trip to Jamaica he has for you. Also you notice he asked for your passport & a few other travel items. You just don’t know when he’s booked it for.

After Dinner you Dave & the girls sit on the sofa & watch the muppet Christmas Carol as a family, the girls have hot chocolate & marshmallows in them & a big bowl of popcorn. You have an espresso martini & Dave as always has a whiskey. You sit there & laugh & cry & sing along to the film. This is all you really want for Christmas. Gifts & food & excess is nice but just to have a little time where the 4 of you can just be you. For a brief moment in time your just the Yorks. No worrying about if Dave will walk back through the door after a mission, or if you or the girls will be used as bait. It’s just you sitting here doing what all other normal families do this evening. Once the muppets are done you give the girls each their stockings to hang on the fire place. You would usually light the fire but tonight you didn’t.

“We don’t want it to be too hot for Santa when he comes down it do we” you say to the girls.

“Oooh no” says Alice. “His beard might melt off” you & Dave both laugh.

“So when you wake up in the morning girls your stockings will be filled, with all of little Santa gift.” He says as he ties them up. “Now what do you want to leave out for Santa to drink.”

“Milk” says Molly. Dave sighs.

“But everyone will give Santa milk, maybe he’d like something else”

“Chocolate milk” you laugh at that reply Dave trying not to roll his eyes.

“It’s still milk though, why don’t we leave Santa some alcohol” he says “give him a needed boost cos all the milk he will have drank will make him sleepy”

“That’s not what the books say” says Molly. Dave has tried so hard to convince them but neither girls are buying into it.

“I tell you what girls” you say. “Why don’t we leave an empty glass for Santa with a bottle of whiskey next to it & a carton of milk when me & daddy go to bed” Dave raises his eyebrow, not at your suggestion but at the word daddy. He likes it when you moan it just before you cum. “& he can pick what he wants to drink. That way next year you will know what he likes so you can leave the right one out”

“But what if he wants both” even you sigh.

“Well he can have both” you say & the girls run off to the kitchen to get the milk & cookies & carrots they sorted out earlier. You look at Dave as he puts the whiskey down & an empty glass. “I tried baby”

“That’s not what you did” he pauses then wink “daddy appreciates it”

With the girls supposedly asleep you & Dave do some sorting out for tomorrow. The table is laid, the gifts are under the tree & everything is prepped to make Christmas lunch easy. All that’s left to do is for Dave to do his Santa bit & fill up the stocking.

“I’ll go get ready for bed Dave” you say before he heads off to the shed to get the Santa gifts. Easier place for you to both hide all the gifts. The girls will never think in there. As Dave heads to get them you quickly head into the lounge to hide something for him to enjoy.

Dave loves doing this. He’s a serious professional man until it comes to a little bit of festive fun. Leaving some fake shoe marks in the hall way. Eating a cookie. Snapping off parts of the carrots, including dropping an end next to the fire place. He then pours himself a shot of whiskey & downs it, but as he goes to put the drink back down he notices something that the girls didn’t put down. A little red bow. One you had made. He lifts it up with a smile & sees there’s a post it underneath. Your beautiful hand writing make him smile.

Come unwrap your present daddy!

He has never triple checked the house is locked so quickly in his life, he almost forgot to turn the kitchen light off. He’s also trying to be quiet so the girls don’t wake up & the Christmas magic is lost. But it’s not long before he is opening the bedroom door. His jaw hitting the floor instantly.

You are lying face down. Hair in a braid going over your left shoulder. Wearing nothing. A sparkling red bow & some mistletoe stuck on top of your bum. There’s a gift tag tied to your foot. Dave drops to his knees. His mouth instantly sucking the toes on the foot with the gift tag. You moan & then you hear him breathily read out loud, once he has stopped sucking.

“Your gift needs a good stuffing Daddy” he says in his bedroom voice. “Oooh sweetheart fuck sweetheart” you’ve not turned your head but you can hear the clothes hit the floor. “Gonna fuck you so hard you will struggle to stand up to cook Christmas dinner” he snarls.

“Is that a promise Dave” you then hiss as he spanks you hard & your bum lifts up. You then moan as his lips connect. Pulling your cheeks apart & lapping always at both your holes. “Fuck Dave” you can feeling your inner pleasure building up already. His hand moves the bow & mistletoe off you & you then feel his penis drag through the mess he has just made. Your arsehole puckering for him.

“I get the best for Christmas” he says before thrusting his penis into your arse. All the way. Deep enough that his balls bounce against you. “Fuck” he growls & you bury your head into the bed as you moan. “So fucking tight. all your holes”

“They are all yours tonight Dave”

“Seriously?” He’d paused his next thrust upon hearing that. His hands gripping your flesh as you are now on all fours pushing back into him.

“They always are but as a Christmas treat you can go all night for as long as you want”

“You little cum slut” he says & smacks your arse again. You rock back & forth in time. You will have marks on your torso tomorrow from him gripping so hard. He’s thrusting away like he will never have sex again or like he has just gotten out of a mission that could have meant his end & he’s happy to be home to you. “Taking me so well” you put a hand on your clit but Dave smacks your arse hard.

“Fuck”

“No clit touching until I can see it. Want to see how over stimulated you get” he says.

“Then flip me over”

Dave doesn’t need an excuse. He quickly withdraws & turns you so your face up & he laughs.

“The fuck”

You have put a little bow over each nipple & one just above your sex. You giggle impishly back as you suck on a small strawberry candy cane you have.

“Liking your gift so far daddy”

“You’re driving me insane.” The bows are pulled off your skin & he plunges his sopping penis deep inside your moist cunt. Your moaning in seconds, especially when he grips you around the neck. “You’re a naughty girl” he moans. Sloppy thrusting noises filling the room when the two of you aren’t experiencing pleasure.”naughty & nice, nice sopping pussy, naughty girl for touching her clit”

“Fuck Dave” you groan.he squeezing your neck more. His eyes alight with desire & list. You quiver taking him all. Clamping constantly around him. He’s big but tonight he feels bigger.

“gonna fill you up sweetheart, gonna lap up all our cum.” He says before he takes the hand that was around your neck. You gasp for air gives him enough time to take the candy cane you were sucking & for him to suck it as well. Then he strokes the sticky sweet over your clit, rubbing it furiously. Your own eyes close. Pleasure taking over.

“Yes Dave yes yes yes, fuck”

“Like that sweetheart” he says before he slips the Candy cane into your mouth again. You make sloppy noises on purpose to get him to thrust faster. It’s rapid his pace, neither of you are going to last much longer. Dave is giving you his best.”like being so needy for daddy”

“Yes daddy, fuck yes yes yesss”

“CUM FOR DADDY!” He says loud enough that it could wake up the girls. Neither of you care.

“Fuckkkkkk” you spiral down your first orgasm of the night. Everything contracting. Pleasure beyond compare. A warm & wet sensation that’s added to with a snarl of your name as Daves seed spill inside your cunt.

“Fuck” he says with a jolt. His eyes rolling in the back of his head. His body dripping in sweat. His pecks flexing from the spasms of his release. He’s still griping you tight. Panting loudly. You eventually open your eyes to look at your glorious husband, bathed in your own sweaty sticky mess.

“Still just as fucking fabulous” you say as you sit up once he’s pulled his cock out of you & sit next to him, caressing his face before your tongues do their usual make out dance after sex. His saltiness after sex always tastes good & arouses you further.

“I ain’t done yet sweetheart” you then gasp as the hand that what caressing your breasts finds your sex, the thumb on your clit, two fingers inside you. “I need to clean you up first” . His head is between your thighs in seconds as you hold it in place rubbing it for ever more friction as he eats you out.

“Oooh fuck Daddy, Dave yes”

You sit in the lounge as the girls open their stockings on Christmas morning. Dave rubbing your shoulders as you watch the girls open Santas gifts. You both desperately need a shower, certain you both smell of sex.

“Dad” Molly ask “what time did Santa get here last night”

“Well it’s after everyone’s asleep including me & mummy why”

“Well” Molly starts “I head something that sounded like it was hitting my wall at 3am, I went down stairs & saw the gifts where there already, but couldn’t see a raindeer outside”

You blush straight away. Molly had heard you & Dave fucking last night. Dave realised this & then looks at you & puts his hand on you knee.

“Could have been, he’s magic so it could have been his quick get away” Molly seems to bye this. Alice hasn’t been listening she’s too busy trying to solve her rubix cube already. Dave move his hand up to your thigh. “Turns out we did bring the Ho ho ho” he says quietly with a wink & a smirk, before kissing you deeply.

“Dad Mum stop” says Alice.

“Sorry darling” you say. “But Christmas brings out the magic in all of us” you say looking directly at Dave. “Christmas after all is a time for giving & receiving”

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY DORIAN PAVUS  *  assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version

i don't care what they think about me. i care what they think about us.

i like you. more than i should. more than might be wise.

discretion isn't your thing, is it?

all this dancing, politics, and murder makes me a bit homesick.

i suppose it really depends. how bad do you want to be?

living a lie... it festers inside of you, like poison.

i'm a man of many talents. what can i say?

the moment i saw you, i thought "there's a man who knows quality."

if you don't come through this, i swear i'll kill you.

i'm curious where this goes, you and i. we've had fun. perfectly reasonable to leave it here.

here is my proposal: we dispense with the chitchat and move on to something more primal.

i tease you too much, i know.

i'll have to find something we can do that doesn't involve teasing.

time to drink myself into a stupor. it's been that sort of day.

i see you enjoy playing with fire.

i like playing hard to get.

i'm not suggesting we venture into mutual domesticity.

if it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone. you're good at that.

talk to me. let me hear how mystified you are by my anger.

oh, i'm not arguing. just pointing out the ridiculously obvious.

if you choose to leave your door unlocked like a savage, i may or may not come.

now... what was i talking about? ah, yes. me.

i am apparently an incredible ass at accepting gifts.

i prefer the company of men.

would you prefer me bound and leashed?

sometimes the ones you love are also the ones who disappoint you the most.

you are the man i love, [name]. nothing will truly keep us apart.

the things you ask are just... very personal.

sometimes... love isn't enough.

there will always be an "us." we'll just be... farther apart, for a time.

i had no idea something like you was possible.

i'm imagining what you would look like in a dress.

i've never seen you smile so much!

i have no idea what you're talking about.

you stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest.

you're shaping the world for good or ill. how could i aspire to do any less?

my footsies are freezing, thank you.

don't you ever bathe?

you're not suggesting we're similar.

watch where you're pointing that thing!

i'm not wearing a skirt.

it's significantly more impressive than hitting them with a sharp piece of metal.

i only meant to say i'm very sorry for your loss.

we can continue this dance forever, if you wish.

i'm saying we should be careful what we assume when it comes to such matters.

demons don't appreciate a man with good hair.

what i wouldn't give for some proper wine.

your outfit's entertaining. i'll give you that.

he had to leave early on account of assassination.

it's nice to know you have friends.

i'm here to do what is right.

come on, just answer the question.

they were asking me about you. personal things.

you said we'd be ass-deep in trouble. this is more like knee-high.

so what's your estimation? think we can win?

you can't call me pampered. nobody's peeled a grape for me in weeks.

you startled me. you're always so... nondescript.

you're a special and unique snowflake. live the dream.

i wanted to see you make flowers bloom with your song. just once.

you've done a lot less dancing naked in the moonlight than expected.

i've never seen anyone in this part of the world do it.

i realize there's more to you than that.

have i offended you?

for hating the outdoors, you sure seem to like bad weather.

i can't figure you out, [name].

you don't play their stupid game, they send an assassin or three your way.

i can't believe you're scared of magic.

i'm going to take that as a compliment.

still don't like me, [name]? after all this time?

[name], i owe you an apology.

i suspect people will use any excuse to hate us.

why be ashamed? power should be respected, not swept under the carpet.

maybe you're not a complete moron.

i just need to know you're capable of higher thought. for my own comfort.

it would take work. and soap. lots and lots of soap.