#they used to look even worse than i thought

[peachylynnie]

ace

word count: 1.7k

synopsis: in which sylus defies all logic and odds, just for you.

contains: part 2 of blackjack, sylus x fem!reader (non mc, first time meeting), slightly obsessive sylus, alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of weapons and violence, and gambling (know the rules of blackjack).

a/n: in blackjack, you want to get as close as you can to 21 without going over. to bust means to go over 21. to stay means to stay with the cards you have. you can tap for more cards or wave to stay. a natural (best outcome) means you immediately get 21 with your initial cards. but, you don't have to get to 21 to win. so long as the dealer has a worse hand than you, you win. essentially, it's a game against the dealer, not the people you play with. reblogs & comments are appreciated.

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sylus has never lost in blackjack before.

he's mastered every gambling card game for the sake of business deals and corrupt clients. and yet, here you are, spitting at his mastery as you flip another twenty, forcing him to either stay at his nineteen or risk a bust. and sylus never stays or busts in blackjack.

while your hands question almost every statistic and probability out there, your expression is what truly does it for him. even though you've only been winning, you haven't shown a trace of happiness or any other emotion normally present at a poker table. there's nothing when your opponents raise their bets, nothing when you win their bets, and infuriatingly nothing when your silver-haired opponent leans on the table and gazes at you hungrily after you take his chips for the umpteenth time tonight.

chuckling to himself, sylus can't help but think, what's going on in that pretty little head of yours? what will it take for you to look at him with half the interest he's looking at you with right now?

"because the lounge closes in less than thirty minutes," you gesture to the clock, snapping the silver-haired man out of his thoughts. "this will be the final round."

you hand a deck of cards to sylus, signaling him to shuffle. he takes it from you, trying not to shudder when his finger grazes yours.

sherman and his lackey groan upon checking how many chips they have left. "and here i thought blackjack was the easiest game against the house," the former complains as he lights a cigar.

"perhaps," the latter starts carefully, "we can wager something different this round." he shares a knowing look with his boss before turning to sylus. "what do you think, mr. sylus?"

sylus sighs as he finishes shuffling the deck. that idiot messed up his shuffle. great, now he looks like an idiot to you. "what would you like to wager?" he huffs as he places the deck in front of you.

"the deal, sylus," sherman snaps. "if i win, we have a deal."

sylus laughs mirthlessly, shaking his head. seems like the imbecile finally decided to drop his friendly act. "and what will your little employee wager?" he asks with faux curiosity.

"that depends on the lady in front of us, mr. sylus," the man in question answers before licking his lips at you. "say, miss dealer. if i win, how about you accompany mr. sherman and me back to a hotel nearby? we promise you'll be thoroughly compensated."

the head of onychinus stands up swiftly, his hands curling into fists. he should have seen this coming. the knowing look sherman and his lackey shared earlier wasn't just a shot at trapping him into a deal; it was an attempt at you and who knows what nauseating desires. before he can pummel the two men into the ground, you speak.

"i'm afraid that won't be possible, gentlemen," you pick up a chip and flip it between your knuckles. "the main objective of blackjack is to beat the dealer, not to win exclusively." your eyes never leave the chip. "for example, what will happen to your wagers if only i win?" you place the chip down. "in other words, multiple wagers are useless in blackjack due to its main objective."

sylus smirks as he sits down, pride blooming in his chest. not only were you good at blackjack, but you were also good at navigating your way in and out of technicalities. oh, he's definitely buying you a drink after this. you earned it. besides, he's curious to know what a talented little lamb like you is doing in the n109 zone. maybe a drink or two will soften you up and lay your mind bare.

"what would you suggest, miss dealer?" sherman questions angrily, his eye twitching. "you're impossible to beat, and unfortunately," he chucks a gun onto the table, "i'm not walking away without a deal."

sylus tenses. you don't flinch.

"change the main objective," you eloquently respond as you reach for the deck of cards sylus shuffled. "the three of you will play against each other, and whoever gains a blackjack or the hand closest to it will have their wager fulfilled." you fingers never slip as you pass out the cards. "while a tie may be possible, the likelihood will be drastically reduced, as you will no longer be playing to beat me." your braid your fingers and rest them against your stomach, your eyes unwavering. "you will be playing to win."

while sherman and his lackey mull over your proposal, sylus takes a sip from his glass, his eyes glued to you. what could you possibly gain from this? no bets you can profit from have been placed. not to mention your choice to stay out of this round just cost you your chance to prevent sherman and his lackey from fulfilling their profane desires. his brows furrow, no longer enjoying the feeling nor taste of fizz on his tongue. this entire night you've only led him in circles, forcing him to deal with your unpredictable actions and signature indifference. does he hate this? fuck no. your antics give him a sense of desire, a drive—something he's been severely lacking for a while.

but, sylus' patience is wearing thin. he swears if he can't get you to look at him with anything but that damned emptiness, he's going to force his way into your eyes until they are filled to the brim with nothing but him, him, him.

"mr. sylus?" sherman's lackey snaps him out of his thoughts. "your wager?"

"ah," sylus places his glass down, ignoring the cracks forming on it from how tightly he was gripping it. "if i win-"

he pauses, noticing something.

"miss dealer, why did you give yourself cards? i thought you weren't playing," he inquires with a tilt of his head.

"i gave myself cards to stay true to the dealing rules of blackjack," you answer calmly, extending your arm towards sherman's cards to begin the game. "don't worry, mr. sylus. i won't be playing this round, only dealing. my cards are facedown, after all."

sylus inhales sharply. you said his name. you said his name for the first time. and fuck, did it feel so good to hear it on your tongue.

"stay or hit, mr. sherman?" you option the man. he has an ace of spades and a seven of hearts, giving him eighteen. the man takes another puff of smoke before tapping the table. "a hit," you confirm before flipping a four of clubs. the man curses loudly, sputtering on his cigar. "too high," you declare as you immediately move on to his lackey.

"stay or hit?" you repeat. the lackey has an ace of hearts and an eight of clubs, giving him nineteen. the man sighs before waving a hand. "stay," you confirm before turning to sylus.

you still upon seeing his cards. a ten of diamonds and a nine of spades, bringing him to tie with sherman's lackey. so much for the likelihood of a tie being dramatically reduced. you exhale before asking, "stay or hit?"

"hm," sylus hums. he could technically stay and walk away with a tie. sherman won't be selling him fake protocores since he lost, and his lackey won't get his way with you since he tied. besides, hitting would be risky since the chances of getting a two are barely one percent, and the chances of getting an ace are either four or two percent, depending on what you have.

sylus tilts his head, realizing something.

"miss dealer, may i look at your cards?"

"i don't see why not," you say after a few seconds, ignoring sherman and his lackey's complaints.

"thank you, miss dealer," he purrs, reaching for your cards. "you won't regret it."

you don't say anything. you just cross your arms and lean against the table, resuming your unconcerned demeanor.

sylus grins after flipping your cards. an ace of diamonds and a ten of diamonds. you had a fucking blackjack. for the nth time of the night, you drew another natural. there's no way he's letting you go after this, not after you reduced his chances of getting an ace from four to two percent.

at this point, you've already realized why sylus wanted to see your cards. he was trying to gauge his chances of getting an ace, but since you had the third one from the deck, his chances were now fatally low. not to mention, his chances of getting a two were also low, meaning staying was the best option. you reach for his cards, hoping to clean up and get the fuck out of the n109 zone because you know from the depraved looks he's been giving you, prolonging your stay would be dangerous.

but what you don't know is the type of person sylus is. he's the type of person to spit in the face of fate, probabilities, and every distinct concept known to dictate humanity. people don't call him a "relentless conqueror" for nothing. unfortunately for you, this man has found something he relentlessly wants to conquer: your fucking attention. he makes that very clear when he taps the table.

and god, is he glad he decided to hit because you finally reacted to him.

your once-indifferent eyes were now faltering with uncertainty. your once-crossed arms were now hanging loosely at your sides. your once-relaxed voice was now quivering as you asked, "i'm sorry, a hit?"

sylus runs a finger upon his lips, trying to control his manic grin. oh, you looked utterly confused, and he was all for it. never has he seen such a beautiful and enticing sight: you, pushed to the absolute brink with your eyes bewitchingly transfixed on him, trying to figure out why the hell he would hit when his chances of winning are painstakingly low.

"yes, sweetie." your brows furrow when he calls you that. "a hit," he confirms with a teasing smile.

you gape at him (yes, keep looking at him like that; fill your eyes with him and him only) for a few more seconds before reaching for a card. people just really like to gamble, you reason. there's no way an ace can come out of this. however, your lips can't help but part when you flip over the card.

an ace of clubs.

he won.

[henry7931]

Billy’s College Adventure Part 2

Samuel:

“Oh fuck!!!”

I scream out as Billy’s body pours out cum all over his slim chest. I stare down at cute dick I know have possession over.

That’s when the doorbell starts ringing. Well he’s quicker than I thought. I better get his body cleaned up. I quickly wipe off Billy’s chest and grab his shirt.

The doorbell rings over and over again.

“I’m coming! Just hold on a sec!”

I look through the peephole and my body waiting outside for me to open the door.

“Who is it?,” I say just to mess with him.

“YOU KNOW WHO IT IS!”

“Hmmm… well I wasn’t expecting company. Not sure who you could be. Have we met before?”

“Dude! I’m in your body, you’re in mine. Can we just cut to the point and you let me in!”

“What’s the secret password?”

“Purple! Now let me in!”

“No… the password isn’t a ‘word.’ It’s a gesture…”

“Hey it’s me! In your body, what’s up? Is this good enough?”

I bust out laughing, I thought he was going to flick me off.

I open up the door and Billy comes storming in.

“You know! It’s one thing for you to highjack my body! But it’s another for you to LITERALLY LOCK ME OUT,” says Billy who’s now in my (our I should say his) face.

“Oof! You got a spicy side! I like it!,” I say back with a big grin.

“Are got to be kidding me! You know what, I’ll fix this.”

I watch as Billy tries his hardest to switch us back. He tries for about a minute before giving up.

“Fuck! Why can’t I switch us back?”

“Oh Billy, you really don’t know the first thing about your powers do you? You’re a swapper. A swapper can’t un-swap somebody who’s also a swapper. Now you can swap others that I’ve swapped but you can’t swap us. Only I can now.”

I watch as Billy paced around the room struggling with the fact that I’m in control here.

“So I have a few questions,” he says to me.

“Sure!”

“First off, who the hell are you?!?”

“Well currently I’m you. But normally I’m Samuel, Sam for short.”

“Great. So you obviously are a—”

“Swapper.”

“Yes, you’re a swapper. Like me which I didn’t even know others existed outside of me.”

“Well other swappers are a little more quiet about their abilities. You just have yourself away earlier today.”

“I know, I figured that out pretty quick. This feels weird, normally it’s me hitting someone with the body swap surprise. Wait a minute, why did you swap that guy and that professor?”

“Great question! That Dufus really pissed me off. And I don’t really care for that professor so freaking him out too was just an added bonus.”

I watch as he tries his hardest to get a good read on me. It’s so refreshing to even talk about this someone who’s not my family. Granted the only other swapper in my family was my great uncle. He was kind enough to leave me a rule book.

“So you just did that to be petty?”

“Well yeah I guess, sounds terrible when you put it that way. But trust me that guy had it coming.”

“That seems pretty immature of you.”

“Oh so you’ve never just swapped with someone for the hell of it?”

“That’s not what I’m saying… I mean of course I have but it’s been years!”

“Geez Billy, didn’t know you set the roles for the swapper community.”

“Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying you really freaked those two out. Maybe like a simple prank could have worked.”

“Billy, I don’t think you understand how different the two of us are from the rest of the world. Most swapper do way worse things— sides I would have eventually swapped them back.”

Billy gets quiet for a second. I watch as he flops down on his couch. 

“So now that you kidnapped my body, what’s your plan here?,” says Billy.

“Finally! That was the question I’ve been waiting on. So I’ll be honest with you. I’ve personally never met another swapper outside of a family member who I really didn’t get to know. But he did leave me with a lot about our powers. And I want to start really using mine. But the kind of stuff I want to do is hard to do alone. So I guess in the nicest way I can say this… I’ll give you your body back as long as you join me in my exploration. Thoughts?”

“Ummm… is this going to be dangerous or potentially hurt someone?”

“Ahhhh no, at least not directly.”

“What do you mean by not directly?”

“Well I guess you can either find out and get your body back or just stay as me until I decide to swap us back. Which could be a very long time… years maybe.”

“Ugh fine! I’ll do whatever.”

“Cool!”

2 Hours Later…

Billy and I crashed out on his couch. It took him a bit to speak to me but once he got going he had so many questions about me. I let him ask me about my life, my family, etc. and he eventually started to open up about himself as well.

“So let me get this straight? You forced your babysitter to swap bodies with you like every time he came over??,” I ask him.

“Oh yeah! Honestly, I feel a little bad about it now because he’s so nice. Literally has no hard feelings. I was just a nightmare growing up. I could never stay in my body when I was young and trust me my dads tried hard! I even ran away a couple of times with his body. They of course found me every time. It sounds terrible but I really enjoyed being him.”

“That’s funny, I used to get really annoyed easy at family functions. I was a very emotional teen and my dad’s brother was a bit of a prick. Always thought he was jealous since he didn’t get the swapper trait and I did. I would literally swap everyone around just to piss all of them off. I’d even make sure everyone swapped with someone who I knew they would hate to be… oh this one time. I swapped my uncle and our dog for like a week. I got into sooo much trouble but it was so worth it.”

“Oh god not the dog!!”

“Yep! Even took my dog to the park. It was hilarious!”

We went back and forth on our swap stories for hours. I door dashed us a bunch of food (on Billy’s card of course, I knew he would be cool with it the second I heard his parents are loaded lol).

“So do you have like any booze here?,” I asked him.

“Oh yeah! Want a glass of wine?”

“Sure!”

“Any preferences?”

“I mean I have your pallet so whatever you like lol.”

“Trueee, I guess I should asked for me haha.”

“Well I prefer red wines.”

“Gross!”

“You’re gonna like it I promise.”

We both crack open two bottles of wine and turn on a movie in the background. After a couple of glasses I started to feel a little frisky and maybe a little too open

“So I have a confession to make,” I say to him.

“Oh god, what is it?”

“It’s nothing bad! Oh god, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

“Sit it out Sam!”

“Well before you got here, I um… I may have enjoyed your equipment.”

Billy sits up and for a second I thought he was going to be mad at me.

“Sam did you jerk off in my body?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Are you kidding? I haven’t even explored your body, especially since I just rushed over here. And you explore all of mine huh?”

“Yeah I don’t know, it’s been a minute since I’ve swapped with a cute guy. I may have just lost control.”

“Ohhhh so you think I’m cute?” he gives me a cheeky grin.

“Ugh, don’t get too excited.”

“Well, I think it’s only fair for me to have my turn,” he says with a bigger more cynical grin.

“What?!?”

“You heard me! I’m forced to be you so it’s only fair for me to have my fun too!”

“Fine!,” I say back. I feel a rush hit me. I’ve never been around a guy that’s in my body talking about using my body that way. It’s kinda hot.

“So what you’re gonna go to your room or do it right here?,” I say to him sarcastically.

He takes a big swig from the bottle of wine and pulls my shirt off.

“You wanna come watch the show?,” he says winking at me.

Before I can answer Billy grabs my hand and pulls me up. I follow him to his bedroom.

Billy pulls down my sweatpants and hops onto his bed.

“What do you think? Do you look… sexy?”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Okay… here is the big reveal!,” he says to me slowly lowering my underwear.

“1..2..3…”

Billy pulls my underwear down and my dick flies out. It’s completely hard.

“Nice!! 10 out 10 dick right here,” he says holding my dick.

“You gonna…”

“Slow down cowboy! It’s my turn to explore.”

I watch Billy gently fondle my goods. I can feel his dick pulsating— I can barely hide the fact that I’m just as turned on.

“So Sam, now it’s my turn to give you two options. You can hop into bed with me and we can full around or you can stand right in that exact spot with my hard on all night. Which one will it be?”

“Bed.”

“Good, now get over here!”

Billy nearly rips the clothes off of his body.

“Is it weird that I want to kiss you right now,” he says to me.

“Nah, just a little self love,” I say back.

We start making out and he’s such a great kisser. I feel him reach down and he starts fondling his dick.

“You’re so sexy,” I say to him.

He kiss my neck and says, “your body or me?”

“Your presence, your body. But you all around.”

“So are you, even though you’re a bit of a dick.”

“What turns you on the most Billy?,” I ask him.

He lifts up his head, “you really want to know?”

“Yeah I do.”

“Feet.”

Somehow, someway, I got even harder from the words that came out of his mouth.

“Is that weird?”

“Fuck no because that’s what turns me on too.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Nope! Your feet are so sexy…,” I say to him.

He looks at mine and grins.

“You have cute feet too.”

“Would it be weird if we…,” I say gesturing to his toes.

“Nope!”

I use Billys feet and wrap them around my dick. I start stroking back and forth. He lets out grunts in between.

I maneuver back and forth using his toes to grip.

“Don’t stop Sam! Fuckkkk,” he yells out.

I go faster and faster…

Billy is moaning sooo loud…

And then he screams out, “IM CUMMING!!!”

Cum squirts out on to his feet covering them.

He grabs his foot and does something so hot. I watch as he licks foot clean with my mouth.

“Shit… that was amazing…”

[dammit-tazmuir]

It's also coming from a Pyrrha who knew Wake died with a baby that Pyrrha believed for two decades was hers.

Hers or G1deon's, I guess, but honestly? G1deon was "legendarily unamorous", and coupled with Wake's "later I kissed him before I knew what you were", I personally get the impression G1deon was aroace-spec of a recipro-variety, where the sheer intensity of Wake's attraction and confidence with which she acted like they were already intimate sparked something in him. (Even then, I have to wonder if he might have been more chaste than Pyrrha?) Point is though, from Pyrrha's perspective, there'd be a solid case to see any conceived kid as still hers regardless of who was fronting, even if the body sharing wasn't already enough to nullify any distinction.

Pyrrha spent nineteen years grieving a child she thought was hers only to find out the kid was alive (and now isn't, but kind of is, but it's complicated) but not hers, but she's still Wake's child and that still means something. And also, far more than Pyrrha realized, this kid is the thing Wake died for. The thing she and G1deon were ordered to kill Wake for. The Bomb with which she'd wanted to damn near literally rig the universe to explode, that she was so determined to procure she grew it with her own body for nine grueling months. Gideon is the single most Landmine People thing Wake ever did incarnate.

And then when Pyrrha does meet her (but she's not who she thought, but also not as dead as she thought, but also holy shit she's WHAT now? and JOHN'S?) they get all of a few minutes to actually talk as they're trying not to die (again for real this time, or maybe worse in the River), and THEN, for all Pyrrha knows, she might have lost her AGAIN, IMMEDIATELY. And she spends six months "playing mother and father" to a kid who does not look like Wake and is not the young woman she so briefly met but may or may not have part of the same soul? And it turns out she doesn't (unless), and she loves Nona as Nona even when she grows to understand she's Alecto, but Gideon is still around and once again sporting that fiery red hair.

AND FROM GIDEON'S PERSPECTIVE...

:/ Some dead chick who apparently could hijack her necro's body used that to bang her mom (who was not only apparently a huge dick but managed to betray Gideon's trust beyond anything she could have ever imagined despite having been dead for all but one day of Gideon's entire life) and for some reason thinks that gives her any kind of connection to Gideon. Like, okay??? Even her mom didn't see her as a daughter, why the fuck is this bitch trying to all of a sudden? Plus she just got one new parent and frankly he kinda sucks but he's God and he actually makes her feel special and important. At least he didn't know she existed! Pyrrha can't say the same! Hell, Pyrrha basically killed Gideon once already (or might literally have but ya know, Jesus). And she wants to, what, just be buddy-buddy now? Because she had the hots for Gideon's mom? Shut the fuck up.

As we the audience sit recognizing how insanely good and healing for each other they could be if they really got the chance and not knowing for sure if they ever will. I hate it here.

the miscommunication between Pyrrha and Gideon is killing me. when Pyrrha brings up Wake, she is saying "your mother was important to me, I wanted to be someone important to you too. I still do". but Wake is a sore spot for Gideon! the very first thing we learn about her is that she loves her mother, she goes down to talk to her bones one last time. Gideon survived the Ninth believing that at least her mother loved her

and then she is proven wrong! Wake had her just to kill her, didn't even name her, instead calling her Bomb! she is mourning the idea of a mother and every time Pyrrha brings up fucking Wake, an awkward way to show she cares, it's just another reminder that her mother never loved her. I need to hug her so bad

[iwashie]

Sevika, and reader on her period headcanon...

Sevika is in her late 30s and probably doesn't suffer with her period-or do-, but dating a younger woman, at the peak of hormones and period, makes her think about her time and asks herself how she handles you and all your versions during it.

She knows your period is coming by just seeing your breasts swelling, some complaints about your back hurting, and mood changing during the day as you always do but never remember it's that time of the month.

She always has a lot of pads, your favorite food stockpiled, medicine for your various pains, always ready to massage your back, legs and belly, brings you a lot of water and a hot water bottle for cramps.

"Doll, it's normal to have a period. Don't be angry or disgusting for it. I know you don't like having pains, and all that stuff period brings on, but it's normal. And you have me by your side."

Your mood swings are a challenge for her, but she handles somehow. Just like the day you two were walking around Zaun, enjoying a street food you begged her to buy and then she notices you're not by her side, looking back to see you stuck in the place, your eyes on the ground, on your food on the ground. She immediately ran back to you, soothing you as your eyes filled with tears and mumbled that you haven't even bitten. "That's alright, doll. Have mine and everything is fine."

Or the day she made a joke at the wrong time and wrong place, making everyone at the table in Last Drop alternate gaze between you two just to look away when you lashed out on her and left the place without her. Or the day a woman looked at her for too long, and you had to show that woman that your woman was your woman. Or tried to throw punches at every man whistling at you- Ran had to stop you and Sevika at this one.

She thought your period cravings were something else. Why so much sugar?!? It's was possible worse than pregnancy cravings. "Are you on your period, or are you pregnant?

"I'm craving something sweet, like really sweet." You said, searching for something in the cabinets. "Have some sugar." You looked at her with fire on your eyes, and she felt a cold sweat run down her back. "What about some chocolate cake, ice cream, or some food deep-rooted with sugar? I'll buy it, doll."

She can't keep up with your energy, always accepting whatever you want and following behind you everywhere with a scowl, but making sure you're good, safe, and happy. She doesn't understand how you have so much energy left after doing a lot of things during the day to her about your day and plans, just to fall asleep suddenly.

She also handled you crying over everything and making traps for her, like asking her if she'd love you if you were a worm, or her worst nightmare: "Would you love me if I was from topside?" and her long silence was answer enough for you to start weeping. "Doll, it's just a dumb thought. Of course I'd love you and gonna be with you forever. I promise!"

She prefers to handle you when you are calmer, too sore to handle the world on your back, and stays in bed, being doted by her. She always cuddles you, her human hand on your belly to warm it up, whispering sweet nothings or watching a movie with you, both wrapped in the blankets. "I love you too, doll."

Maybe the best thing about your period is the much horniness you have during it. Your wild side is always showing up at this time of the month; always teasing her with dirty whispers, handsy. She loves fucking you, making love to you, making you cum and all. But, damn, you've come three times already, and you're looking at her with those eyes again, and she isn't young anymore, she needs to catch her breath. "Please, Vika. Just one more. You can use your fingers on me this time. Pleaseee."

She loves it when you are horny and take the lead, playing with yourself, teasing her until she does something about it and makes slow, tender, sweaty love to you. "Fuck, doll. Your pussy is so wet and creamy for me, gotta fuck it properly, huh. Do you want this? Want my cock deep inside your pussy? Good girl, doll..."

Your crazy ideas always caught her by surprise. She is sure that these ideas are made up before your period, and you only come with them to blame on the "period hehehe"

"You know what? I really want-" "Please, a normal thing for once." "You to impregnate me." A silence in the room. "Impossible, doll." "What do you mean it's important? DON'T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?!?" "It's biological Impossible to get you pregnant with my babies." "Well. We gotta keep trying, vika!"

Your low self-esteem is the biggest problem, like how she's gonna put inside your head that you are the most beautiful person in Zaun? The prettiest woman she's ever laid eyes on! "Your body is completely fine! Your skin is normal! You're not fat, square, or I don't know! Your clothes are completely fitting, you're fucking beautiful and perfect. The only woman for me, doll!"

At the end of your period, she would be exhausted, needing vacations away from Zaun, but glad to have you surviving another period without trying to kill her and every other Zaun citizen. She would be so glad to have her girl back, not that you're much different but still.

@iwashie 2025, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[jupiterswasphouse]

No review this week, if only because I don't know what to do and I'm probably gonna be busy for a bit! So, in the meantime, I want to tell you about Vespa orientalis, the Oriental Hornet!

[Image Source: iNaturalist, Nasser Halaweh | Image ID: A photo of a red and yellow oriental hornet on a grey surface /End ID.]

This is one of a wide multitude of fascinating species of wasps, but there are two particular reasons I find these ones so interesting! For one, take a look at that yellow band on its abdomen—Nothing special, right? Well, while it looks that way, it can, in fact, function as a form of solar panel! It takes in energy from sunlight and converts it into a small electrical charge, which is theorized to be used as a form of energy for regular activity or even thermoregulation. And their larval silk also has some electrical potential as well! Wonderfully interesting stuff!

The second reason I think this species is so fascinating is that relatively recent studies suggest this species is possibly the best species in the world at consuming alcohol, as the evidence shows that these little beasts can regularly consume drinks consisting of 80% ethanol without any adverse effects! While animals, including insects, do get quite severely drunk (or worse) at levels much lower than this, the Oriental Hornets do not get drunk at this level, nor do their organs fail, nor do they live shorter lives. For all intents and purposes, after weeks of intense binge drinking, they were completely fine, as it seems the alcohol is metabolized at unprecedented speeds. This is thought to potentially be tied to the brewer's yeast that it and many other species of hornet carry in their guts.

So, you could accurately call individuals of these species partially-solar-powered super-binge-drinking wasps, which goes pretty hard I think.

[elryuse]

My Toxic Ex

Yandere Seola X Male Reader

Tags : Cheating Seola, Toxic Seola, Regrets, Yandere, Obsessive, Forceful Sex, Hatred, Manipulation, Pregnancy?

Words : 3,4509 Words

This Is a Commission Work for My friend @Pizza_anon on Ko-fi. I hope you like it Buddy.

"Seola..what the fuck". Y/n yelled, as He saw a terrible sight. His girlfriend of 2 years, have been sleeping with guys all around campus, as she giggles and moaned. Y/n was heartbroken, Seeing how seola clearly enjoyed it.

Seola his once pure and caring Girlfriend, was changed. She was no longer the cheerful, happy, and loving girlfriend once more. She became toxic, cruel, manipulative. Sometimes Y/n wondered what went wrong, What did he do wrong. As her habits grew more and more destructive, Y/n finally has enough.

After a ton of Cheating that she has done, Y/n was finally tired. He's tired hearing all of this news from his friends that Seola is with another guy, Seola slept with some guy, etc. He's done. And so, He simply left. He moved into a new College, far from Seola. He slowly composed himself, Getting his mentality into a better state. As he finally made new friends, and left the ties from his previous life.

Y/n met a beautiful girl. Eunji, was her name. She was cute, smart, and most importantly, Caring. It has been years, since Y/n felt loved, wanted. And it clearly shows, as after a few months of dating her, Y/n was committed to become his boyfriend. Eunji smiled, as she hugged him under the Apple tree. However, as Y/n may thinks this story would end on a happy ending. It was from happy, nor sad. It would be devastating.

Seola, Who all this time was busy having fun with guys all over the campus found herself stuck in a limbo. A sudden news, Her porn videos and naked pics were leaked all over the internet, and most importantly on her university. This made her popularity crumble into dust. As people began mocking her, slut shaming her, and what's even worse, the friends that she thought was there for her, turned out to be the monster that leaked all of her vids and pics.

They all laugh, as they sneered at her, mocking her. Seola was broken. The guys who she slept with, didn't bother to care for her. Instead they feel more proud than ever, as they still kept those videos and pictures all inside their phones. Seola trembles, as day by day, Her friends would leave her, and in the end, the were none left.

Seola suddenly remembered about Y/n. The man who truly cared for her. The man who actually cared for her. She suddenly cried, as She started to remember all of those good times she had with him. She remembered the time where the two got into a small fight, and even though it was unnecessary his fault, Y/n still decided to be the one who apologize first, which made Seola really happy and proud.

She imagined, if she still go back to him. Will he accept her apology. Will he still get back with her, after all of this time, and after all of this suffering that she gave him. Seola was stucked, didn't know what to do, what to act. But she thinks again and again, and not wanting to regrets her decision, she finally started to do some research on Y/n.

And to her surprise and shock, Y/n looked different. He seems happy. His smile, that once was shown to her, now shines brightly on the digital screen, He shares the world about his new girlfriend, Eunji. The two seems perfect, they lack any negativity, far beyond what Y/n and Seola used to have. At that moment, Seola cried. She had lost. She had truly made the biggest mistake in her life.

As she caresses the phone screen once more, a devious plan suddenly showed up. She could still win him over. She could still be with him. And even though this plan would hurt her and him, She didn't care. She only wanted Y/n to be with her again. And so, Any plans good or bad, suddenly become the pinnacle of the system. Seola laughed, as She opened a small wrinkled picture from her jacket. A photo of Y/n and Her. She knew, This wasn't going to be easy. But she knows, that whatever the outcome is, She'll have him back.

As Y/n and Eunji get up from their tiring slumber, He could see that today was a good day. The Sun was shining brightly, the clouds doesn't look cloudy. The evening air was crisp, the kind that made you want to pull your jacket tighter around yourself. Y/n walked home from Eunji’s apartment, his mind still buzzing with the warmth of her laugh and the softness of her touch. He couldn’t believe how different life felt now—how free he was. No more walking on eggshells, no more wondering if Seola would blow up over something trivial. For the first time in years, he felt like he could breathe.

But as he turned the corner onto his quiet street, a familiar silhouette caught his eye. His heart skipped a beat. No. It can’t be.

Seola stood under the flickering streetlamp, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked... smaller somehow, less vibrant than the girl he remembered. Her once perfectly styled hair was slightly disheveled, and her makeup, though still striking, couldn’t hide the shadows under her eyes.

“Y/n,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to make him pause. “We need to talk.”

He clenched his jaw, stopping a few feet away from her. “Seola, I don’t think there’s anything left to say. We’re done.”

Her lips quivered, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry. But then, her expression hardened, and she took a step closer. “You think it’s that easy? You think you can just walk away from me and start over like nothing happened?”

“I didn’t walk away, Seola. You did. Every single time you chose someone else over me, you pushed me further away. And now... I’m done.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You really believe that? That it was all my fault? Maybe if you had cared enough, if you had fought for me, things would’ve been different. But you didn’t. You just gave up.”

Y/n stared at her, incredulous. “Fought for you? Seola, you were sleeping with half the campus. What was I supposed to do? Beg you to stop?”

Her eyes burned with intensity, and she closed the distance between them in two quick strides. “You were supposed to fight for me!” she yelled, her voice cracking. “Because I needed you! I needed you to show me that I was worth something!”

The raw pain in her voice stopped him cold. For the first time, he saw past the bravado, the cruelty, the arrogance. All he saw was a girl who was broken, who had been hurting long before their relationship fell apart.

“Seola...” he started, his voice softening despite himself.

But she cut him off, placing a hand on his chest. “Don’t,” she whispered, her nails digging into his shirt. “Don’t pretend to care now. Not when you’ve already moved on. Not when you’re with her.”

He frowned, stepping back. “Eunji has nothing to do with this.”

“Doesn’t she?” Seola’s voice was low, dangerous. “You think I don’t know about her? How perfect she is? How kind and caring and loving? Tell me, Y/n, does she make you feel like I did? Does she make your heart race? Does she make you want her so badly it hurts?”

“Seola, stop—”

“No,” she hissed, grabbing the front of his jacket and pulling him close. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. But you do owe me this. One last chance. One night. That’s all I’m asking.”

Her breath was hot against his skin, and despite everything, he felt his body respond. She was so close, too close, and the scent of her perfume—something sweet and floral—filled his senses. Memories flooded his mind: late nights tangled together, whispered promises, stolen kisses. But then, the darker memories followed: her cruel words, her betrayal, the way she always made him feel so small.

“I can’t,” he said firmly, trying to push her away. But she held on tighter, her fingers digging into his skin.

“Yes, you can,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “You miss me. I know you do. You miss the way I touched you, the way I made you feel. And deep down, you want me just as much as I want you.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he hated how right she was. Even now, after everything, a part of him still longed for her. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not after everything she’d put him through.

“Seola, this isn’t going to work,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m with Eunji now. I’m happy. Please, just let me go.”

For a moment, she was silent, her grip loosening slightly. Then, without warning, she pressed her lips to his. The kiss was desperate, hungry, full of years of pent-up longing and regret. Y/n froze, torn between pushing her away and giving in. Her tongue slid against his, coaxing his mouth open, and he felt himself responding despite his better judgment.

When she finally pulled away, she looked up at him with pleading eyes. “One night,” she whispered again. “That’s all I need. Let me remind you why we belonged together. And then... if you still want to leave, I’ll let you go. I promise.”

His chest heaved as he struggled to think clearly. This was wrong. So wrong. But the ache in his body told him otherwise. The way her hands roamed over his chest, the way her hips pressed against his... it was too much. And yet, not enough.

“Seola...” he breathed, barely able to form the words.

Her lips curved into a sly smile, and she leaned in close again. “Shh,” she whispered, tracing a finger along his jaw. “Just let me take care of you. Like I used to.”

Before he could protest, she dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands already working to unbuckle his belt. His mind screamed at him to stop her, to pull away, but his body betrayed him. He was hard, achingly so, and the sight of her looking up at him with those dark, possessive eyes only made it worse.

“Wait—” he started, but she silenced him with a sharp tug on his pants. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him exposed to the cool night air—and to her.

Seola didn’t waste any time. She wrapped her lips around him, taking him deep into her mouth with a practiced ease that made his knees buckle. Her tongue swirled around the tip, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through him. He gripped her shoulders, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer.

“God, Seola...” he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a wicked grin. “Missed this, didn’t you?” she purred, before sinking down again, deeper this time. Her hands gripped his thighs, holding him in place as she worked him with relentless precision.

He was losing control, fast. The rational part of his brain screamed at him to stop, to end this before it went too far. But the rest of him was drowning in sensation, in the heat of her mouth and the way she moaned around him, as if she couldn’t get enough.

“Stop,” he managed to choke out, though his body betrayed him by thrusting forward. “Seola, we can’t...”

She pulled away again, panting slightly. “We can,” she insisted, standing up and pressing her body against his. “And we will. Because you’re mine, Y/n. You always have been.”

Her lips crashed against his again, silencing any protests. She guided his hands to her waist, encouraging him to touch her, to feel her. And despite everything, he couldn’t resist. His fingers found the hem of her skirt, sliding underneath to cup her ass. She moaned into his mouth, grinding against him.

“Take me upstairs,” she whispered, biting his lower lip. “Let me remind you what you’ve been missing.”

He hesitated, torn between the guilt of betraying Eunji and the undeniable pull of Seola’s body against his. But in the end, it wasn’t a choice. Not really. With a groan, he grabbed her hand and led her toward the building, his mind racing with what was about to happen.

As they stumbled into his apartment, Seola pushed him against the door, kissing him furiously. Her hands pulled at his shirt, while his fumbled with the zipper of her dress. Clothes fell to the floor in a haphazard pile, and soon they were both naked, pressed together in a tangle of limbs and desperate need.

She broke the kiss, stepping back slightly to admire him. “You’re still so beautiful,” she murmured, running a hand down his chest. “And you’re all mine.”

Then she turned around, bending over the couch and looking back at him over her shoulder. “Come on, Y/n,” she said, her voice dripping with temptation. “What are you waiting for?”

He hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward, his hands gripping her hips. She gasped as he entered her, her nails digging into the cushions beneath her.

“That’s it,” she moaned, arching her back to meet his thrusts. “Just like that. Fuck me, Y/n. Make me yours again.”

The sound of her voice, the feel of her tight around him... it was too much. He lost himself in the rhythm, in the way she whimpered and begged for more. But even as he moved inside her, a nagging thought crept into his mind. This is wrong. This is...

“Harder,” she demanded, cutting off his thoughts. “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

And so, he gave in, letting the heat of the moment consume him. But as he glanced down at her, at the way her body writhed beneath his, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a mistake. A delicious, intoxicating, irresistible mistake.

“Seola...” he murmured, his voice rough.

She looked back at him, her eyes glazed with lust. “What is it? Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”

And he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not until...

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting streaks of gold across the rumpled sheets. Y/n stirred, his body heavy with exhaustion, his mind foggy from the night before. He blinked slowly, trying to piece together what had happened. Seola. Her name echoed in his head like a warning bell. He turned his head, expecting to see her gone, as she often was after their reckless encounters back in university. But this time, she was still there, curled up beside him, her hair splayed across the pillow like ink spilled on paper.

She looked so peaceful—soft, even. It made his chest ache. He shouldn’t have let this happen. He had Eunji now. Sweet, kind Eunji, who deserved better than this. He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to steady his breathing. His heart pounded, not from desire but from guilt. The weight of it pressed down on him, suffocating.

“Morning,” Seola’s voice broke the silence, smooth and melodic, yet laced with something he couldn’t quite place. She stretched languidly, her bare skin catching the sunlight, and propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. Her lips curved into a sly smile. “You look awful. Rough night?”

Y/n didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Words felt trapped in his throat, tangled with regret and confusion. He wanted to get up, to leave, to pretend this never happened. But his body refused to move.

Seola sighed dramatically, sitting up fully, letting the sheet pool around her waist. She leaned closer, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm. “You know,” she began, her tone casual, almost too casual, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

He tensed immediately, his instincts screaming that whatever she was about to say would only make things worse. “Don’t,” he said quickly, his voice hoarse. “Just… don’t.”

Her smile widened, and there was a glint in her eyes that made his stomach twist. “Oh, come on, Y/n. You’re going to want to hear this.” She paused, letting the tension build, savoring it. Then, softly, almost sweetly, she dropped the bomb. “I’m pregnant.”

The room seemed to tilt. Y/n stared at her, his mind struggling to process the words. Pregnant. The word hung in the air between them, heavy and unrelenting. He shook his head, disbelief coursing through him. “No. No, you’re lying.”

Seola laughed lightly, as if they were discussing the weather. “Why would I lie about something like this? It’s true. I found out last week.” She reached for his hand, placing it gently on her stomach. Her skin was warm beneath his palm, and for a moment, he felt frozen. “There’s a little piece of us growing right here. Isn’t that amazing?”

He jerked his hand away as if burned, scrambling to his feet. His chest heaved as he backed away from the bed, his mind racing. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not after everything. “You… you can’t be serious.”

Her expression shifted, her playful smirk fading into something sharper, more intense. “Dead serious,” she said, her voice low and steady. “And it’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone else since we…” She trailed off, letting the implication sink in. “You’re the father, Y/n.”

His knees threatened to buckle. He sank into a chair, his hands gripping the edge of the seat so tightly his knuckles turned white. Father. The word reverberated in his skull, each repetition louder than the last. He felt sick. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had finally moved on, found someone who truly cared about him. And now… now this.

Seola watched him closely, her gaze calculating. She slid out of bed, standing naked before him without an ounce of shame. She knelt in front of him, her hands resting on his thighs, her touch both grounding and suffocating. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” she asked softly, her voice dripping with false innocence. “A family? A future together?”

He shook his head, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “No. Seola, no. That’s not… we’re not…”

She tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “But we could be,” she whispered, leaning in closer, her breath hot against his ear. “Think about it, Y/n. You could have me all to yourself. No more fighting. No more games. Just… us.”

Her words were like a poison, seeping into his veins, clouding his thoughts. He wanted to push her away, to scream that this wasn’t what he wanted. But the way she looked at him—like he was the center of her world—made something inside him waver. For years, he had loved her. Or at least, he thought he had. And despite everything she had done, some small, stupid part of him still craved the warmth she once offered.

As if sensing his hesitation, Seola pressed further. She kissed him, soft and slow, her lips moving against his with practiced ease. He tried to resist, but his body betrayed him, responding instinctively. When she pulled back, her eyes were dark with satisfaction. “See?” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jaw. “You still want me. You always have.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. How could he deny it when his body screamed otherwise? When every fiber of his being seemed drawn to her, despite the chaos she brought?

Seola stood then, pulling him to his feet. Her hands slid up his chest, her touch deliberate, possessive. “Let me remind you,” she whispered, her voice a dangerous purr. “Let me show you why you belong to me.”

Before he could protest, she kissed him again, harder this time, her teeth grazing his bottom lip. His hands hesitated at his sides before giving in, gripping her hips as if clinging to life itself. She smiled against his mouth, triumphant. “That’s it,” she coaxed, guiding him back toward the bed. “Let go, Y/n. Just let go.”

He was falling, spiraling deeper into her web. And as she lowered him onto the mattress, her hands roaming greedily over his body, he knew he was lost. The guilt, the doubt, the fear—it all melted away under her touch.

For now, at least, she had won.

[charmed-asylum]

The award for god damn my mouth drop like a cartoon cat goes to SY but u know . I know he doesn’t beat around the bush. However, was I thinking he be like this . And shit I can say from experience and studies that a lot he doing goes right with it. I mean sad thing and it’s really not just one person to pin point who could of fix this besides Thor town folks and trailer trash mom ( now idk where she grew up but hey it’s not me but cliches) that could of help. It’s sad because for her case she probably isn’t a slut while Sy is crazy he just type that knows it but tries to be all wooo man I mean I’m not crazy I’m caring but if u ever mess with me then haha u be getting a dead cat in your mail box or a stalker for life but wooooooo I’m just caring and being a human . Shit pat on the back and you good is looking out a simple box of stuff is looking out non stop poof Sy there is not helping out it’s stalking but bc this town is so small folks won’t see it. Oh he lucky that town size of a city block.

“On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body” honey this statement so spot on huh one a check back in the day like your time period AU money u get paid can last a month or last time now it’s like a blink poof gone and your body lord I’m only in my 20s and the issues I’m having at my age blown minds.

Sy just always there and idk why but it’s big ( lord I’m drooling and have not finish this thought) well as a whole get always with the sneak attack shit I’m barley 5 foot and I still have issues . Bc I’m too short they turn around and still don’t see me I gotta jump be like Boo. Anyway still damn “. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you. “ also going back to my girl you got yourself a lifetime 20/20 level stalker. Hahaha way you keep doing Thor I can’t “ It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. “ I wonder still wonder because he hasn’t been front with her which I feel it coming feel it coming . ( still gonna be shock) but on the why he gave her a reason which I’m gonna point out in a second but can “ I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one." be one I mean it be least crazy one . And if not does he pray on pregnant women because of well a lot tumblr taught me a lot about kinks but because how easy the target she or how her emotions not there or pregnancy brain. “ You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you” also that he was so close to Thor which questioned his character like so he mad bc what Thor did or he use Thor for some reason. Because in small time I can’t see some friends falling out so easy bc hello who else u got .

This again makes me feel bad for her because while Sy seems nice and it your name was the fluff you don’t ask for I be all aww so cute and romantic but no nothing ever good and sweet it’s an huh my leg said in a sponge bob character voice. Like never so simple and sweet but damn how bad I felt reading this “ You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt.. Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment” and fact he open ( after 1st day seeing her) mention he read books about pregnancy. It makes her wall slowly start to crack. “ He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.”

HAAH I’m sure many mention this but lord can you imagine “ He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. “ But no the way that he watches her even down to her fingers. Or what way her EYES 👀 may go. He’s watching her as if I only watching tho his pray but as if he I don’t know still in war zone, looking through his sniper or goggles, watching his enemy. But still huh I hate it the perfect crazy stalker but idk even talking to her not at her or down to her .

AND HE SO HONESTLY BLUNT like okay he playing a game of 1s and 00s and we doing tic tac toe. Still like , “ "Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me….. His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to." that to me feels ( because not 1st time) he thinking on how to say it like before with the honest but down play it. In away which is why I feel there more.

Called to Duty 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The bank is as ever anxiety inducing. On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body. Every day you wake up, you feel even more crummy than the last. 

Your hopes of a treat at the cafe are dashed. You give a longing look as you walk by and peer through the window. You can smell cinnamon and coffee. You're strict non-caffeinated, doctor's orders, but a decaf would be amazing with one of those cinnamon buns. Ugh, damn, why are you torturing yourself? 

You turn to continue down the street but barely dodge out of the way of another pedestrian. He makes sure you can't pass as he mirrors you, sidestepping to block your way. You sigh as you step back and look Sy in the face. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you. 

"Hey," he flips up his dark sunglasses, "how're you feeling?" 

You stare up at him defiantly, not quite bold enough to glare. He hasn't done anything wrong, he's just persistent. It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. Or that your emotions are volatile, one moment teary eyed, the next blazing hot with rage. 

"Fine, thanks for asking," you shrug, "Sy, I gotta--" 

"I owe you a cookie," he points to the cafe window at his shoulder. 

You blink. You remember the cracked shortbread. You forgot about that. The mention of the sugary treat makes your stomach growl and your mouth water. 

"No, you don't--" 

"I do," he insists, "I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one." 

"I got it free," you say, "it's not a big deal." 

"It is to me," he counters, "I was heading in anyway." 

You stare at him. You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you. You look across the steeet to the pharmacy then back at him. The aromas wafting out with each swing of the door have you ravenous.  

"I can't stay long, I gotta work," you say. 

His cheeks twitch, as if he tamps back a smile before it can bloom, "after you." 

He gesture behind you to the door. You turn and lead the way. He reaches past you to open the door before you can and you enter ahead of him. The din within is lively and the air is warm from the crowd and the employees steaming out orders behind the counter. 

"Wanna find a seat?" He suggests, "you should rest." 

You open your mouth to argue but think better of it. You'd rather not stand in the clustered line. You nod and head off to claim the table by the window. There isn't much left. 

You pull out the chair and brace your back as you sit with a sigh. You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt, instead you turn your attention out the window. 

Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment. 

You sit and wait, wring the strap of your small purse. You watch the street. If it wasn't for the people, Hammer Ford would be serene. 

A plate clinks in front of you and a porcelain mug as well. It isn't a cookie and you can smell the herbal tea's rosy flavour. You peer up at Sy as he gives an apologetic look. 

"Cookies are still baking so I got you a cinnamon bun," he says. 

"And tea?" You add. 

"Can't have one without the other," he says, "no coffee for you." 

"Yeah, I... I know." 

You could laugh. He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.  

"Thank you," you smile as best you can. 

"Gotta get mine, be back," he excuses himself and marches back to the counter. 

You look down at the gooey iced draped spiral. You really shouldn't. Not only accept his misspent generosity but indulge in the excess sugar. Yet your hormones won't let you resist. You can at least wait until he's sitting down. 

He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. He sits and takes off his hat and sunglasses. 

You put your purse to the edge of the table and rest your hand on your stomach, doing your best to resist the animalistic need to tear apart the dessert. His eyes follow the movement and you quickly drop your arm. You don't even think when you do it, it's just a habit. 

"You-" he begins. 

"Wh--" you find your voice at the same time. 

You both stop, hesitant. He nods and gestures to you, lifting his cup as he watches you intently. That's new too. Thor never listened much, only talked a lot. Besides, you weren't exactly together for the conversation. 

"Sy," you clear your throat and sit forward as much as you can, "why are you following me around?" 

His brows form a vee, "I'm... it's not... I'm tryna help." 

"Okay, but why?" 

His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to." 

"You want to?" 

"Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me." 

You can't help your snort, "we hardly know each other." 

"Isn't for lack of trying," he taps his fingers on his mug. "Aren't ya gonna try the bun?" 

"I will," you assure him. He's trying to distract you and it's close to working. The cinnamon is driving you mad. "A baby is a lot of work and... I'm not your responsibility. I know Thor is your friend." 

"Was," he interjects.  

"Sure," you accept his decisive declaration, "but that doesn't mean you have to worry about his mistakes." 

"Mistakes? I don't think so," he says. 

"Well, it's not exactly planned," you scoff, "Sy, really I don't feel right about you doing so much." 

"Wouldn't feel right not doing it," he shrugs his burly shoulders. 

“But why?” You nearly exclaim. You just want to know why he cares so much, about you? 

He leans forward, elbows on the table, “they talk about me too, ya know? Since I got back from... serving. They say I’m f—crazy, or whatever. It wasn’t easy or nothin’ over there but I’m not nuts. Not like they say. Just like you’re not some slut, forgive me for saying it out loud.” 

You look down at the table and exhale. So he hears as much as anyone else about you. At least he’s honest. At least he isn’t joining them. You purse your lips and reach for the cinnamon bun, unable to restrain yourself any longer. 

“For what it’s worth,” you raise your eyes to meet his, “I never thought you were... unwell, or whatever they say.” 

His cheeks pinch, another suppressed smile, and he tilts his head, “I’m only happy to hear you think of me.” 

[tinolqa]

god I haven't mentioned it enough here. Myths of the Realm is my enemy. easily my least favorite 24-man- or rather it's my least favorite raid series of either type.

probably made worse by pandaemonium being genuinely very good? the contrast was stark.

weak answer to the question of the twelve's nature, very unambitious and mediocre visual designs that were largely too married to visual fidelity to boring statues and card designs. some real disney's hercules shit. there were some innovative or appealing elements here and there: nald'thal was genuinely great visually and conceptually, I actually respect the concept of making menphina a magical girl instead of a generically hotsexy love goddess, byregot's halo of nails, uh... the models for thalaos and perykos looked good? but overall they were a bunch of very boring idealized humans.

and my god eulogia is the ugliest thing. eulogia might actually be the most hideous execution of a concept in the game yet, you might as well just clip all of the models of the twelve into each other and play their animations at once and get the same effect. zero elegance, zero thoughtful design. it's actually shocking to see in a game where we got perfect omega as a raid boss once upon a time. even eden's promise, while superficially a hot mess, is a hot mess because it pays homage to extant depictions of artemis! art history is why it looks like that! eulogia looks like the artists were asked to recreate knife dad from monster factory using ffxiv assets.

and you might ask, well, are the mechanics of the fights better than the boss designs? absolutely not. week one aglaia was a little fun, because there being a chance of failure to people not knowing the trick of the meteors in the rhalgr fight or panicking during the nald'thal scales instead of just deliberately failing the mechanic to waste everyone's time. gear creep destroyed any chance of interacting with most of the fun bits of aglaia, and they didn't repeat that "mistake" in the other two, which were boring and easy from the jump. just an absolute void of challenge or chaos. why even bother putting mechanics into your raid at that point, apparently that's only for savage.

and the rewards... boy I hope you like ugly yellow-gold saint seiya armor and generic draping faux-hellenistic robes and vague suggestions of togas. I hope you fucking gluttons for endless less-problematic rehashes of ancient greek mythology like gaudy costume jewelry and sandals and meaningless neoclassical flourishes. did you want gear that might look like something your character would wear in a city they've visited or that has a connection to a historical aesthetic? I guess if you make believe you can stretch a tenuous bond from this tacky armor to the uniform robes and masks of the ancients. ostensibly. since we all know the ancients didn't have a societal taboo about ornamentation or making your clothes individualized or anything.

so what did we achieve? did we learn anything? turns out the twelve were real all along, but also powerless except in the specific context of having flashy anime duels with the warrior of light. it's VERY important that we say they aren't primals, because primals are only summoned by primitive subhumans like the ixal and the garleans. but we do need you to fight them to return their aether to the star because... they're definitely not primals! no. not primals. primals are fake gods, and the twelve are *aetheric constructs* based on *real people* made by *hydaelyn*, which means they're good and Not Primals. the mechanic by which they visually reflect the beliefs of their followers? definitely not the same as the one that does that for primals. their nebulous dependence on the faith of eorzeans? totally unrelated to primals, because it's apparently important for the ego of the players that *their* god is real and not fake, which makes them ontologically good and righteous.

and it's definitely satisfying to find out that the goddess whose name gave weight and gravity to the reveal of the warrior of light's past incarnation and their name... is called that because she was a failed candidate for that role? she's a consolation prize sun goddess?

for that matter it's definitely satisfying to find out that the twelve are just recreations of venat's boring ancient friends, who are largely nameless and have no significance to you or your interaction with the past aside from a mediocre sidequest. oh it's so thrilling to know that the god of crafting used to be hytholdaeus's coworker. this would mean so much to me if he had any role in the setting beyond a skill name and a rock sitting in an overworld zone.

admittedly it would also suck for the reveal to be "actually eorzea's gods did create the world and are all-powerful, boy it sure is silly that those delusional foreigners are out here worshipping kami and manusya and mrga and primals which are all FAKE, as opposed to us (non-beastman) eorzeans who have the literal mandate of heaven"

but surely there's a more elegant solution (ambiguity, leaving questions instead of a glut of answers, not making this raid series at all). was this really the best they could come up with?

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 11 - Epilogue

CW: nightmares.

AN: I have had so much fun writing this. It was such a breath of fresh air to take a break from my main series and write a quick 'mini fic'. I have other ideas for more 'mini fic's' in the future. For now I thought I should wrap this up. Thank you for everyone who liked commented and shared this around, even for people who just read it and enjoyed it, thank you so much and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

Previous parts - masterlist

As soon as Simon is discharged you all fly back to the UK.

You end up at the house with Simon on bed rest. Not that he listens, he’s worse than Johnny was. You stay in the house with them, sleeping in the bed with Simon so you can help him when he needs to pee in the middle of the night. 

John has been busy cleaning up the mess from the base as well as making sure Simon doesn’t get discharged. Him and Kyle usually spend their days out at a base somewhere leaving you Johnny and Simon at the house. You don’t mind, you’ll spend as much time as you can with them. 

Johnny cooks and cleans, Simon jokes he’s turning into a housewife. When you offer to help none of them will have it, doting on you almost as much as Simon. 

“You don’t have to feel guilty. I can do things for myself.” You remind them. 

“Don’t even think about it. What did you want? A sandwich?” Johnny asks and sticks his head out from round the kitchen. 

“Cheese and pickle.” You smile. Simon’s hands grip your waist pulling you back up against him.

“And a packet of quavers.” He whispers in your ear.

“And a packet of quavers.” You call. You lay back against him and he kisses your head. 

“You’re one tough cookie, you know that.” He says after a few minutes of silence. You turn to look up at him, frowning. 

“What Graves put you through. What I-” He chokes on the words. You break away from his embrace. 

“Stop. We don’t have to talk about this.” You say bringing your hand up to stroke his cheek. You sigh watching his eyes drop. 

“Simon.” You stop, you're not sure what you want to say. You pick up one of his hands. “It’s okay, I spent months in therapy, It’s part of the job. You were just doing your job.” 

He hangs his head and sighs. “It’s not fair, we shoulda waited, you deserve better.” You lean over and kiss him. Deep pressing your tongue in his mouth, you wrap one of your hands round the back of his neck. You pull away from the kiss put keep your forehead on his. 

“You don’t get to feel guilty Simon Riley. I forgive you. I love you.” You sit back on your knees looking at him, squeezing his hand, you smile. 

“I love you too.” He says. You rub his cheek again then turn to lay back in his arms. As soon as his arm has come round your chest, he plants a kiss on your head and Johnny comes in with a plate of food. Simon leans over picking up the packet of quavers. 

“Nothing else till later you’ll spoil yer tea, John’s bringing fish n' chips.” Johnny says walking out the room. You smile and reach over for your plate.

…

You must have fallen asleep in Simon’s arms because the slamming of the front door jumps you out of what was starting to feel like an overly realistic dream. The smell of fish and chip fat fills your nose as John and Kyle walk into the living room. 

“Have you two been sat their all day?” Kyle asks, kicking his shoes off. 

“Mother won’t let us leave.” You say, your voice grumbles with sleep. Simon starts to sit up and you do the same yawning and stretching your arms and legs. John has gone out into the kitchen while Kyle opens the bags of food on the coffee table. 

“Got cod, chips, peas and scraps. What do you want?” Kyle asks, John comes back with plates. Kyle serves Simon as John comes over to kiss the top of your head. You look up at him smiling.

“Busy day?” You ask as he strokes your chin with his thumb. 

“Always busy when we’re around.” John says going over to the other sofa. As Kyle piles a plate high with chips and fish for him, then passes it to him with a fork. 

“Heard back from the medical board yet?” Johnny asks as he comes into the room with a bottle of pop and glasses. 

“As a matter of fact-” John starts as he rests the plate on his lap reaching over to his bag next to the sofa. He rummages through muttering to himself until he pulls out a piece of paper. He hands it out to Simon. “Expect to see you back for duty in a month, Lieutenant.” John smiles. Johnny’s giddy snatching the paper out John's hand and reading it like he almost doesn’t believe it. 

“Fuck you got a whole 2 months off. I only got a month.” He says reaching over to hand it to Simon. “I even had one of those lung things.” He says, shaking his head, clicking his fingers at you. 

“A lung resection.” You say leaning over Simon's shoulder to look at the letter. 

“Took half me bloody lung out! I’ll never smoke again.” He says sitting down on the sofa next to John. You look at Kyle chuckling and scooting back on the floor to sit between John's legs. 

“You don’t smoke Johnny.” You say looking back over at him. John is fishing through his bag for something else. He reaches out to you. It’s folded up in an envelope. 

“Transfer papers. For you to sign. That is if you really do want to come back.” There’s silence in the room, the only noise coming from the low volume of the TV, everyone is looking at you as you reach out to take the papers. You smile nodding then sit back on the sofa opening them up. 

You hear Johnny and Kyle start up a conversation as you read over the standard legal jargon of the contract. You do want to join 141 again, you just hope nothing has changed.

…

You dream a lot about your torture, thats normal thats to be expected. When it’s a good day it’s Graves and his faceless shadows. When it’s a bad day its John and Simon, Simon never has his mask on unlike your actual torture. 

He didn’t do it, Ghost did. That's what you tell yourself when you wake in a pool of sweat panting, feeling like someone is sitting on your chest. Your legs and arms tingle. 

Yesterday was a good day, but you dreamt it was John. You look over in the bed trying to slow your breathing. Simon’s back is turned to you, you can hear him snoring softly. You turn over in bed sitting up. Your transfer papers sit on your bedside table, illuminated by the crack in the curtains. 

You get up and sneak out the room trying to be as quiet as you can so you don’t wake Simon. You step over the hall to John’s room. When you push the door open you see him and Kyle lying in bed. Suddenly you want to go back, leave them be. 

You can’t, you want to be with them. You slowly crawl on the bottom of the bed, Kyle has his back pressed up against John, as soon as he feels you start to wiggle between him he snaps awake. 

“Hey love, you okay?” Kyle asks making room so you can crawl in. 

“Yeah.” You whisper shuffling under the sheets. John turns around in the bed his arm coming over you to reach Kyle. A second later he seems to notice you in the bed, his hand comes up to brush your face.

“Something wrong, you’ve been crying love?” He says his voice deep from sleep. You didn’t even realise that. 

“I just missed you,” You say, turning to face him. His thumb brushes your cheeks, your eyes have adjusted to the light and you can see his eyes shining in the dark. 

“We’re all here.” Kyle says shifting up behind you pulling your shoulder slightly so you lay against him. You smile. 

“I know, I know you are.” You say, closing your eyes. Kyle kisses the top of your head and John moves closer to you pulling the duvet up to your neck. He kisses you, a soft peck on your lips, you feel the tickle of his beard. His arm rests on your waist, rubbing your side as he breaks away from the kiss. 

You close your eyes letting them hold you in their arms, the sound of their breathing lulls you back to sleep. 

…

You’re up early the next morning slipping out the bed before anyone else is up. You’re sat at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in your hands when John makes his way over to the coffee machine. 

“Mornin’” he says, turning it on. 

“You going to the base today?” You ask taking a sip as he takes a mug down from the cupboard.

“Yeah, still got a bunch of intel to go through on the Makarov leads.” he says, turning to look at you while the coffee machine warms up. You slide the envelope over to him. 

“Think I can help?” You ask, smiling. He comes round to you, throwing his arms around you before you have a chance to stop him. He buries his nose into your neck and you hug him back. 

“You know for a second I was worried you changed your mind.” He breaks from the hug cupping your cheeks. 

“I love you.” You say. He kisses you.

“I love you too.” You smile the biggest smile at him as you hear the coffee machine beep.  

“Mornin’ lass sleep well?” Johnny asks, his hand landing on your back. John gets up going back to the coffee machine. 

“Yeah. I did.” You smile going to take another sip of your tea. 

You sleep well that night too, squished between Johnny and Simon. There are no more bad day or good day dreams. Nightmares come sometimes but it’s always Graves and his faceless shadows, and when you do wake in a panic someone is always there. John or Simon, Kyle or Johnny. They’re always by your side.  

You stick by their side too, besides someone has to pull the bullets out of them.

Banners by firefly-graphics

[nicverse]

i can't lose you

maybe being a journalist is less dangerous than being a vigilante, but that doesn't stop jason from worrying about you.

jason todd x journalist!reader

warnings: small mentions of violence, bombs and wounds. flush

ノㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ⊹ㅤㅤㅤㅤׅㅤㅤ✩ㅤㅤ˚ ♡

ㅤׅ ㅤㅤㅤ𝅄ㅤㅤ꒪ㅤㅤ꒱

Police lights and sirens decorated the city, as always. The sound of your fingers against the keyboard filled your living room, tired eyes fixed on the screen as your next work started making some sense now. There had been a few bomb attacks in the city, the police weren’t able to notice the pattern yet, but you already did. So, naturally, you spent the last few hours typing on your laptop, trying to connect everything before something worse happened. 

Writing for the Gotham Gazette was your weapon, your power— you didn’t go to fight the criminals on the street every night, but you discovered their secrets instead, publishing them to the people so they would know who were the ones that provoked so much damage and fear to the city. It certainly gave you a sense of satisfaction to know that you were not standing idly by in the face of crime. 

But, god, it did tire you out sometimes. With countless nights of sleep deprivation and caffeine, you haven’t visited your family in a long time—and let’s not talk about vacation. Now, even the crime in Gotham knew your name very well, and it was a matter of time before they started to act against your sense of justice. You wanted to say you were afraid, but you would rather be persecuted for speaking the truth than remain silent all your life. 

Your body needed rest and you ignored it as much as you could yet it was harder to stay awake when your eyelids closed on their own. Fingertips got lazier with each type and without noticing, your head fell on top of your laptop as you dozed off. It wasn’t the first time it happened, so you would wake up in the morning, ready for another round of exhausting investigation.

But that used to happen when you had no one to look after you; until you met Jason Todd. 

His body stepped into your apartment. You wouldn't be able to notice him even if you were awake, he always moved so slowly, like a ghost tracing its path on Earth. The first thing his eyes looked at was your body sprawled on your desk in front of your laptop. Jason walked slowly towards you, taking off his mask, blue eyes shined with adoration as he observed your slightly opened lips, hair fixed in a messy ponytail that you probably did unconsciously. 

He chuckled, you always scolded him for taking so little care about his well-being, yet you did the same with yourself. His fingers fixed your hair behind your ear, taking a deeper look at your face. Jason always thought you were pretty. From the first time he met you, he hadn’t been able to get you out of his mind, and it scared him. He never liked having that kind of vulnerability, the kind of vulnerability that would have him tearing his heart out of his chest if you simply asked him to.

You were a weakness to him, and it was dangerous because he would burn the whole world down to save you. 

He looked at your investigation on the screen, reading what you had been writing. If there was any sign that this thing was dangerous to you, he would deal with it quickly. 

He could be a deadly person in the streets, but he was always so tender with you. His fists were made to punch, to kill, but every single drop of blood that lingered in his mind disappeared when he entered the warmth of your home.  So there he was, taking your soft body in his arms and carefully placing it in your bed as he touched your body so softly like you were a precious broken crystal, covering you with a blanket. His heart warmed with the sight of you. 

You took his wrist, lazily opening your eyes as your lips greeted him with a smile that he returned. Your fingers burned against his skin, not in a way that made him flinch, but in a way that turned him a mess, wanting nothing more than to melt his body into yours. 

Did you know how much you made him feel? 

“Hey” You said, your voice still sleepy and tired “Hey” Jason responded, sitting next to your body. You looked at him, his blue eyes pinned in yours with longing, like a tired puppy who just wanted a bit of affection. Without speaking a word, you tapped the side of the bed and invited him to rest. Jason took off his boots and curled up next to you, your fingers tangling in his hair as his head rested on your chest. He loved these moments when nothing existed but you and him in the silence of your room. 

He felt the need to say something that had been on his mind for some time. Although your job was the reason the two of you met, he didn't like it very much, it was too risky for you. People started to mutter your name in the darker alleys of the streets, angry whispers of the worst in Gotham, and how you started to be a complication thanks to your articles about the crime in the city. He knew what they meant, and every day felt terrified of something happening to you and he wasn’t there to protect you. Yes, he would happily die in your arms, but he couldn't bear the thought of seeing the slightest scratch on your skin. 

“Your job is too dangerous” he murmured and you furrowed your brows at his affirmation. “I’m not the one running every rooftop of this city while shooting criminals at night.”

He leaned in his elbows to look at you, trapping your body between his and the bed. He had the kind of serious look that made you listen with attention “Those guys don’t know my real name. And even if they did come after me, I can fight back. You can’t.” Jason spoke, his tone a little bit more serious than usual. 

You knew he had a point, you were a writer, not a fighter, but that didn’t make you completely helpless. You grew up in Gotham too, you learned how to defend yourself before high school. 

But that wasn’t enough for Jason. As you said, he was the one who fought those criminals every night, so he knew how much of a threat they could be to you. Yes, he could risk his life every now and then, but he would never let you do that. Never. 

You sat in front of him, looking directly into his eyes. You would have been upset by his comment if your heart hadn't been touched by his desire to protect you. Jason was a dangerous man, and you knew that perfectly well, but deep down he was a man you had grown to love too much—more than you would like to admit. Sometimes, you felt like one of the few things keeping him sane. 

And you were right. 

“Jason, I won’t stop doing my job,” you said calmly. Your fingers searched for his warmth, slowly crawling towards each other for comfort, intertwining as a wave of emotion washed over your mind. He was close, so close that it was intoxicating. “I know I can’t stop you from worrying about me but… That’s kind of the way I feel about the things you do too.” With a shaky voice, you continued, turning to face Jason instead of looking at your hands tied together.

And it was true, you thought about him all the time, and you worried all the time too, afraid that one night he wouldn't be able to reach your window, his wounded body would be lying flat in an alley, and you wouldn't be there to heal him, maybe one day he will step out of your door to never be seen again. The thought terrified your mind, creeping into your worst nightmares. 

“I know I can’t convince you to leave it,” Jason looked at your intertwined fingers, and a hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “just… promise to be careful, alright? I can’t be saving your ass every day” he chuckled, and you laughed too, rolling your eyes. 

“One day I’ll be saving your ass too, Jason,” you replied, knowing that if you ever saved him, you would never let him forget it. 

What you didn't know was that you had already saved him so many times with your love, and your words, holding the fallen pieces of his being with your loving arms and keeping them together when he needed it most. 

He took your chin, tilting it upwards so you could see his face, gently holding you. His eyes were pinned in yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite name yet. His hands were rough but hot against your skin, calloused fingers reaching out to touch the forbidden skin of an angel they desired. Jason leaned your head closer to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. 

"Let's get some sleep, okay? Can't save the world if you keep like this" his voice murmured against your skin, taking in your scent and the softness or your hair.

You nodded, too flustered to even speak as you took your usual side of the bed. He got up to go to your couch, but you called him, signalling to the empty spot beside you. Jason couldn't have been happier and rushed to rest his body against yours.

Gently you moved closer to his body, smiling warmly as you opened one of your arms for him to come closer. Jason accepted and wrapped himself around your body, blending into each other like a perfect jigsaw puzzle, as if they were made for one another.

Perhaps both of your jobs were dangerous. But that would never stop you from coming home to each other every night.

sorry, but I'm such a fool for x and journalist!reader, especially with jason todd

𖥔 ࣪ ˖    ꒱

another one from my fic (which i haven't posted yet, but I will, promise) I love them so much

just kiss already

i'm also accepting requests! please send them, I'd love to write them

this was a little bit longer than usual, but I think I like it.

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (16/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: The progression of your pregnancy sends Sylus away for the day to acquire something important from the dragons, leaving you alone on the mountain.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Length: 3k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15)

Read on AO3

As the months passed and winter melted into spring and into summer you found yourself heavily pregnant during the hottest month of the year. There were good days and bad days and worse days. Pregnancy was beautiful in some aspects, like when you first felt them kick. Sylus hadn’t let go of your stomach for an hour after that just so he could feel them move around more. But other days were filled with puking, mood swings, and insatiable cravings.

“Sylus?” you called.

“What is it--” he stopped when he walked in the bedroom and saw you laying starfished on the floor. “Did you fall?”

“No.”

“Then why are you on the floor?”

“It’s hot and the ground is colder than the bed.”

“Can’t be comfortable though. How about we get you up--”

“No. I live here now.”

“Little bird--”

“Nothing little about me now. Look at me! I look like I swallowed a pumpkin!” Your whole body ached. “Can we just get this kid out already? I’m tired of being pregnant!”

“You look beautiful.” He rubbed your swollen stomach. “You’re growing our child and they will be ready to meet us in another month. I’m sorry you’re having a rough day though. Can I get you anything?”

“You can make it winter again so I’m not dying of heat stroke.” you fanned yourself.

“If I could turn the seasons for you I’d do it but as it is this is the most I can offer.” he unfurled his wings and beat them gently, causing a cool breeze to blow on you. “Better?”

“That does feel nice.” you sighed.

“Now what did you call me in here for? Or did you just need to complain.”

“No. I did need something.” you tried to sit up but your stupid big stomach was making it hard. Sylus stopped fanning you to help you sit up. “Can’t even sit up anymore…can’t believe I agreed to have three more of these.”

“No backing out now.” he said. “Now what did you need?”

You held out your arms. “A hug?”

“Oh my sweet,” he pulled you into his arms. “It’s been a rough day, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah…” you had barely gotten any sleep last night because the baby decided midnight was the perfect time to start doing somersaults in your womb. Then it was just so hot you couldn’t think to do anything but flop onto the ground. You were sore, you were tired, and you just wanted this baby out already!

He looked down at your stomach. “And you in there, treat your mother more kindly. She’s working hard on making you, you should be more appreciative.”

There was a kick to your side. “Baby says no.”

“I fear we have a rebellious child on our hands. Just know, little one, if you keep hurting your mother like this we are going to have words when you are out of there.”

You laughed. “I don’t think they’ll understand why you are scolding them, Sylus.”

“They’ll know. Just like they know what they’re doing right now.”

“You are ridiculous.” you sighed, your mood easing again.

For a few minutes you sat together, tracing your stomach, feeling the faint thumps of the baby kicking at your insides. “I hate to worsen your mood again but I need to tell you something important that I don’t think you will like hearing.”

Your smiled dropped. “Do you have to?”

“Unfortunately.” he brushed some hair from your face. “I need to leave for a day or so.”

“What! Why are you leaving?”

“Hush, it’s alright. You see I…” he sighed. “I have been enjoying our time together so much this past year. I cannot believe that I’ve been able to call you mine for that long. But there’s a certain dragon tradition I need to complete with the due date coming closer.”

“I thought you were done with dragon traditions. You said you were going to create your own rules.”

“I did and I meant it. But there are some laws and practices that I still have to adhere to out of safety.”

“Safety? What do you mean by safety?”

“You see, there is a special salve that all new hatchlings in a dragon tribe are anointed with when they are born. It marks them as dragon and helps keep them safe. It is said to ward off predators and evil spirits. I don’t know how much I believe in evil spirits but with this being our first child I do not want to take any risks.” he cradled your stomach. “The dragons are the closest that they venture this way but the journey is still long. I will be gone for a day, maybe two.”

“I see. But why is it so far? When we went to the beach where they were that only took a couple hours.”

“That was because they needed the sand. And if I showed up at a ride asking for the salve after I had left the tribe it would be seen as exceedingly rude. So I had to wait for another time and this is the time they are closest to this land otherwise. It is still more than half a day’s journey by flight hence why I said I will be gone for a while.”

“That makes sense I suppose. Just promise you’ll hurry back.”

“I will. I promise. Do you want to go stay in the village while I’m gone?”

“No. I can survive a day or two without you here. I don’t much feel like taking a flight. Not if you want me to hurl in your arms.”

“Alright. I leave early tomorrow morning and with luck I should be back late in the evening, or the next afternoon at the latest.” he kissed your temple. “Don’t strain yourself while I’m away.”

“Trust me. I don’t feel like doing much of anything.” you sighed. “One more month…”

The next morning Sylus left, stirring you from sleep but for a moment to tell you he was leaving before giving you a kiss and taking off. You went back to bed for a few more hours until the baby decided to kick at your bladder and woke you up for good.

You went about your day as normal and decided to occupy your time by finishing some of the baby clothes you had been working on. You couldn’t wait to finally meet your baby! Tara had assured you in the reading she did that the birth would go by smoothly. She had asked if you wanted to know whether you were having a boy or a girl but you decided to let it be a surprise.

You were sitting in the hoard room, the reflection of light off the gold provided the best light to work by, when you heard a sound from somewhere else in the mountain. Strange. Was Sylus back already? Maybe the dragons were closer than he thought.

“Let’s go see if your father is home.” you said to your stomach and waddled out of the hoard room. “Sylus?” you called. “Did you forget something?”

You made it to the entrance chamber and saw there was an entire squadron of people there. You didn’t recognize any of them. “Excuse me, you’re trespassing in my home.” you said, drawing their attention to you, “I’m going to need you to leave at once.”

None of them were speaking which immediately put you on edge. You gripped the fabric shears in your pocket. From the back of the crowd one of the men shuffled forward. You knew this man. He was one of the villagers, the one that had been staring at Sylus and you at the woodworker’s cottage.

“That’s her.” he said, pointing to you.

“You weren’t shitting us, Aaron.” one of the others said, “The dragon really mated with a human.”

You placed a hand over your swollen belly. “I don’t know for what reason you have all come here but I suggest you leave now while you still can. If you so much as touch me you will have to answer to my mate and I doubt you want that.”

“Your mate isn’t here.” the man from the village, Aaron, said. “And he won’t be back for a while. We spotted him leaving early this morning with a large pack. Hardly something you take for a quick flight around the mountain, is it?”

They had been stalking the mountain? How long had they been watching? What did they want? None of that mattered right now. You needed to act. You were severely outnumbered and you couldn’t fight without endangering your baby.

“Now, miss, you can come quietly or we can do this the hard way.” they said, brandishing their weapons.

Fuck! You turned and sprinted as fast as you could back into the tunnels of the mountain. You lived here for over a year. You had time to memorize these tunnels. You could hide from them so long as you kept ahead. But it was hard to do that when you were eight months pregnant! You needed to go. You needed to find some place to hide they’d never find you.

“Hard way it is.” their cruel laughter echoed off the walls, “Get her!”

~~~

Sylus was not looking forward to this. The closer he got to the dragons the more agitated he got. He had to talk himself out of turning around and returning home a dozen or more times. He was already anxious leaving you alone and he started to question how much he really needed this salve. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad would happen if he didn’t get it.

He also didn’t want anyone else letting them know that another half-breed was being born. He would deliver that news himself and face whatever ire came with it. It was late in the afternoon when he finally spotted the tribe down below.

Too late to back out now. He flew down, bracing himself for any manner of reactions from the others. Immediately they picked up on his scent. He recognized most of those that he passed. They glared, some growled, but no one had yet to make a move to stop him.

He steeled himself, his hands balling into fists as he charged forward only to have his path abruptly cut off by a large blue dragon with citrine eyes. “The half-breed returns,” they laughed, “And he reeks of human.”

“Nilamegh, how dearly I have not missed you.” the Draconic fell off his tongue easily. It was strange speaking it again after so long. It was rough in his mouth.

Another of the dragons, a green one landed behind him. “He always reeked of human. But this is new.” they pointed a massive claw at Sylus’s neck. “He is mated now.”

“Yes I have, Bercilak.” Sylus said, “And I see you still have not. Why does that not surprise me?”

“You--” Bercilak snarled before Nilamegh cut him off.

“Really? You took a mate?” their large head glared at Sylus, “What poor pathetic human did you force yourself on?”

“Shut it!” Sylus felt his composure slipping. “She is my mate and she wanted to be my mate. She is now pregnant with my child. I have only returned to get the salve for the anointing of my offspring. I promise I will not return after I have acquired a jar to take home with me.”

“More half breeds?” they snarled and the others that had been eavesdropping showed the same shock. “Was our race not already disgraced by the addition of you?”

“That is enough.” a voice boomed louder than all the others. Every dragon bowed their head and moved out of the way as Tengya stepped forward. Despite being surrounded by dragons twice his size this was the only time Sylus felt truly dwarfed. He took a knee, keeping his head low.

“Sioltach,” Tengya said, his voice calm, “You have returned.”

“I go by Sylus now.”

The old dragon made a noncommittal grunt. “You would.” he dismissed the others. “Raise your head. Walk with me.”

Sylus followed obediently, his entire person on edge as he and Tengya wandered farther from the crowd. He wanted to just ask for the salve and leave but knew better than to talk before the elder did. When they were far enough away Tengya sat down, Sylus knelt in his massive shadow.

The large dragon regarded him for a moment. “You come seeking the salve to anoint your offspring, yes?”

“You heard that much, did you?” Sylus muttered.

“No. But I know there is only one reason you would return to the tribe after so long away.” Tengya said, lowering his head to be more eye level with Sylus. “You have a human mate.”

“Yes.”

Tengya sighed, his molten red eyes assessing Sylus up and down. “You have grown. Last I saw of you, you were but a child. Rebellion in your blood, fire in your eyes. You were such an angry child.”

“My anger is what let me survive.” Sylus could feel all those emotions clawing at him. “Are you not angry, elder? You know why I am here. I have a human mate. She is soon to give birth to our child. There will be another half-breed running amok in the world. Does this not make you angry?”

“Why would it? I am glad that my progeny has found peace.”

Sylus stared at him dumbfounded. “Your jokes are cruel.”

“I do not joke. Do you think that I regard you so little, my son?”

“I am a curse!” Sylus fumed. “A punishment for a woman who tried to take your magic. I know you do not care for me.”

“I created you. If I thought you would be a blight on this world I would have found a different way to punish that woman.” Tengya’s quiet and calm response only stoked Sylus’s own ire. “But I see how your time away has warped your opinion of me.”

“It is not warped. I know I was not accepted here. You all saw me as a monster. An atrocity!”

“I cannot speak for the others, but I know what I thought.” Tengya huffed, blowing a jet of steam at Sylus. “And I never saw you as a monster. You were my creation, my child, whether you accept that or not is your own decision. And then you left. Ran away from the tribe.”

“Because I was not accepted.”

“You were accepted, Sioltach. You are because I say you are. But that was not the problem.” Tengya said, “You are dragon, but you are also human. And you craved to be loved, but that is not something dragons can provide. I cannot apologize for not being able to defy my nature. But I can give you this.” he reached into a chink of his massive scales and produced a jar the size of an urn.

Sylus caught it with a small grunt. “Take the salve. Anoint your child. Accept them as a dragon, love them as a human, as only you can.”

“That is it?” Sylus stared at the jar. “You have nothing else to say?”

“What more is there to say?” Tengya stood. “Return to your mate. Live well, my son.”

Tengya took off into the sky, leaving Sylus alone in the field holding the massive jar. He bowed his head. “Thank you.” he said to the wind.

He packed the salve into his pack and immediately began the flight back to the mountain. There were many thoughts going through his head but all he cared about was going home. Sylus was relieved though. He had the salve and while it wasn’t set in stone there was an implied promise that Tengya would not let any of the others harm you or your child.

Sylus wanted to get back as soon as possible but the flight was long and he needed to bunk down in a tree for a couple hours before continuing the journey. He finally made it back to the mountain late the next morning. The sight of the mountain had filled him with so much joy. He was finally going to be back with you.

He touched down at the entrance and the joy of being home immediately evaporated. Something was wrong.

He sniffed at the air. Your scent was faint, almost gone. And there was something else. Other scents that didn’t belong. Sweaty and masculine scents. Had you decided to go to the village after all? Had your father come to get you? What was happening?

Sylus set the pack down and ran through the cave trying to find you but could find you nowhere. That’s when his nose caught another scent, it was hidden but the further into the caves he got the more prominent it became. Blood.

“No…” Sylus followed the scent into a dark room. His eyes strained in the darkness until he found the source of the smell. That horrible sweaty masculine smell was strongest in here, mixed with the faint sour tang of fear and metallic blood. He found a pair of large scissors were covered in blood. Not yours. But the dark stain on the ground, that was yours. That reeked of you.

Someone had come in here and and hurt you. Someone had raided his home and taken his mate and child!

His skin grew blisteringly hot. What felt like fire surged through his blood and red hot heat burned out of his eyes. Each breath he tasted smoke and death on his tongue.

He ran back out of the cave, his skin shredding around him as he took to the sky once more. A scream ripping from his throat in pain and fury. He was going to kill them! He was going to kill all of them!

[iliketangerines]

a battle of the egos

a/n: the two of them would fight about it like dogs let's be fr

pairing: kano x afab!reader x johnny

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), pussy eating, finger fucking, slight overstimulation, eager Kano, slightly mean Johnny

you can’t believe you’re stuck in an actual dick-measuring contest

but you suppose sticking two of the most egotistical men you’ve ever met in your life in a cramped hotel room while on a mission wasn’t the smartest decision

it’s not like you had volunteered to be here, General Sonya Blade hadn’t wanted to deal with them themselves (understandably), but then she had given the assignment to you

you’re still reeling over the fact that the Black Dragon and the Special Forces even have a temporary truce to track down a group that’s been giving the both of you trouble, but it’s given you more trouble than it’s worth having to balance out the arrogance of both Kano and Johnny Cage

at this point, you think your body might actually shrivel in on itself from the way the two of them are glowering at each other, and you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration as you listen to the metal of their belts clink

even worse, the hotel only had one bed available in the already cramped room with a less than proper mattress and an even more suspicious looking couch

“so, luv, who’s got the bigger dick?” Kano’s voice cuts through your line of thought, accent as thick as the hair on his chest, and you scowl at the both of them

“seriously? are you-oh my god.” you cover your eyes for a moment as the both of them whip out their dicks as if they’re swords

this is an absolutely ridiculous situation, Sonya owes you a big fucking favor when this mission is over

“c’mon sweetheart, it’s not like you’ve never seen one before.” this time Johnny eggs you on to look, and you feel heat crawl up the back of your neck

so, you’ve never actually seen a dick in real life before

that isn’t to say you aren’t skilled with a toy on yourself, but you’ve always been too far engrossed in your work to manage a relationship long enough to reach that level

besides, you had heard the horror stories that men are pretty shit in bed anyway, so you didn’t think you were missing out on much

silence fills the room for too long, and you hear Johnny suck in a sharp breath at the realization

“are ya kiddin’? you’ve never actually seen a cock before?” a laugh escapes from Kano, and you scowl from behind your hand as he continues to taunt you, “what, ya scared or something? don’t worry, i won’t bite, not unless you ask.”

you can already hear the infuriating smirk behind his smile, and as much as you hated their pride, yours was just as big

taking a breath and turning back around, you steel your nerves and bring your hand down into your lap and try not to seem too embarrassed as you glare at the both of them

heat still burns across your face even as you scowl, and your manage to drag your eyes down to where they’ve got the front of their pants unzipped and their dicks pulled out

Kano, unsurprisingly, sports quite the bush down there, and he’s thick, thicker than any toy you’ve ever used on yourself, and he, surprisingly, is uncut and looks quite clean for a man with his reputation

“oi, don’t look so surprised, i’m not risking an infection down there.” Kano almost seems offended, his mechanical red heart seeming to glow with anger, and you raise your hands up in surrender

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” you roll your eyes and close them for a moment, just to try and shake off the embarrassment of not just looking but observing someone’s dick, and you take another break before you open your eyes to compare his to Johnny’s

Cage, unsurprisingly, is as hairless as his chest, and he’s not quite as thick as Kano, but he’s cut and a bit longer

“well, i mean, Cage has the longer dick, so he wins. now, can you please put them away.” you turn your gaze away, and as an extra security measure, you put your hand up to shield whatever is left of your dignity

“ha! i knew it!” there’s the telltale sound of a zip coming up from his pants, and you can hear the triumph in Cage’s voice

“whatever, length doesn’t matter when it comes to pleasure.” there’s a bit of a grumble from Kano, a hint of a challenge, and your back stiffens

please, please, please, you are begging internally for Cage to not take the bait because you don’t think you can take any more of their cockfighting anymore

“excuse you. i bet i’ve made more people cum than you ever will.” Johnny took the bait, you’re officially going to go insane

“ha! as if! all you’ve got going is your looks.” “it’s not like you can do any better.”

you tune out their squabbling as they start to resort to petty insults, and you bury your face into your hands

absolutely ridiculous, maybe you would be better sleeping out on the highway because then you could get away from the two of them

maybe if you go back to the front desk and beg, you could get a room by yourself and let the two of them fight it out by morning

the sharp call of your name startles you out of your thoughts, and you look up from your hands to the both of them

“me or him?” Johnny looks at you expectantly, and you flick your gaze back to Kano and then to him again

“what?”

“it’s not that hard, luv,” Kano rolls his eye at you and crosses his arms across his broad chest, “who do ya think is the better lover: me or him?”

for a second, you think your mind has short circuited or that you've teleported to a different timeline, and you stare at the two of them blankly

“you want me,” you point at yourself, “to judge which one of you is the better lover.”

“are you both stupid? why would i know that? i’ve never slept with anyone let alone with the two of you.” the two of them stare at you, and Johnny has the decency to look somewhat embarrassed as you scoff

Kano scratches at his beard, and you feel something shift in your stomach when a smirk crawls over his face and he starts to walk toward you

“well, we can fix that, can’t we?” Kano leans over you so that his nose bumps against yours, and your jaw drops open on its own volition

partly because you’re offended by his proposition that he would assume you would want to sleep with the both of them and mostly because you’re angry that he’s right

you sputter, words coming and failing to organize themselves into anything comprehensible as Kano simply leans in closer to you so that you can feel the scruff of his beard rub against the shell of your ear

“whaddya say, luvie? wanna go for a round with the both of us?” out of the corner of your eye you can see Johnny shift on his feet, almost as if he seemed interested in the proposition as well

Kano pulls back from you, a smirk on his face as he grabs one of your hands into one of his own and brings it up so that he can kiss the back of your knuckles

“i-um, uh-” you still can’t manage to find the words, syllables and sentences and feelings weighing down your tongue as your mind frantically tries to pull itself back together

it’s not as if you’re completely opposed to it, as big as their egos are, they existed for a reason, and you suppose that the both of them aren’t terrible options for your first time

if you exclude the fact that Kano is a wanted mercenary in most countries around the world

“well, look, don’t let Kano pressure you into anything here.” Johnny stands next to Kano, shouldering the mercenary to the side so that he has to let go of your hand

his hand comes to rest on your knee, hesitating for a brief second as if testing the waters, to see if you really were okay with the two of them being here with you

“i mean, well,” you can feel your ears and your face burn as arousal pools at the bottoms of your stomach, “i wouldn’t be…opposed to the idea.”

Kano smirks and rushes toward you first, his hand shoving Johnny back to the side while he lends down so that he can kiss you first

a squeak rushes out of you from how absolutely hasty he is, the roughness of his beard rubbing along your skin as his lips crash into yours

it’s almost painful how quick he is, teeth slightly clacking together as his hand hold onto you, one at the back of your neck and the other squeezing at your waist, and he seems almost desperate for this, to kiss you

he moans, something deep and guttural, into your mouth, his eyelashes tickling at your cheek they flutter close, and your hands grip onto his shoulders as you feel yourself be swept away into his eagerness

Kano grips on tighter to you, tilting his head slightly to try and kiss you deeper, as if he could mold himself into you, and he squeezes at the back of your neck

it makes you let out a small sound as your mind goes slightly fuzzy, and his tongue laps at the space of your lips

and yet still, he is somehow not close enough to you, and he finally drops his weight onto you

your body falls back onto the bed, and your legs wrap around his waist while your hands hook underneath his arms so that you can dig your nails into his back as he continues to kiss you

his mechanical heart digs into your chest, but the feeling is negligible to how his beard scratches at your face, drawing your attention back to his lips every time

he groans as his hips buck forward, grinding you against him, and you whimper into his mouth as it provides the delicious friction that you had been searching for

Kano pulls away from you, allowing you to catch your breath, and he trails his head down to mouth at your neck, his fingers rubbing your chest through your shirt

“fuck, you don’t know just how long ‘ve wanted this.” his words are mumbled, barely audible as you whine whenever his teeth nip into your sensitive skin

his fingers find your nipples through your shirt, and he pinches them roughly, drawing a yelp from your lips as your hands go to scratch at his back

a loud moan echoes from him at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin, and his teeth sink into your neck while his hips rut into yours lazily

“fuck, please, please Kano.” you squirm and gasp as you grind down on him, trying to get more friction on your aching clit, anything to try and relieve the pleasure

he doesn’t say anything, only a low groan answering you, and he flits his eyes to Johnny in the corner and shoots a wink to the actor

Cage has his brows furrowed, gaze firmly fixed on to your face and the way that sweat has started to shine on your forehead

he wishes he could be there instead of Kano right now, the one trailing kisses down your chest, the one lifting the hem of your shirt just enough to bite at your lower stomach, the one pulling off your pants and seeing your pussy glisten with need

if it were up to him, he would tease you a bit longer, mark your neck up a little more just to draw those sweet begging noises from you

his dick twitches in his pants, but Johnny ignores it and simply crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for his turn

you don’t notice the jealousy emanating from Cage, lost in how Kano’s sharp teeth dig into the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh and rips small desperate mewls from your throat

your hands have shot down to his hair, pulling and tugging at the short strands, and Kano groans at the feeling, finally putting his tongue to good use

he licks a wide strip up your pussy, friction flying along your clit and to your brain, pleasure imploding behind your eyes as you whine

the sounds between your legs is lewd, loud slurping and deep moans, almost bordering on a growl as Kano worships your cunt

his tongue is wide and flat along your clit, and one hand grips on tightly to your thigh, fingerprint bruises guaranteed to be there tomorrow as a reminder of tonight

his other fingers slap at the inside of your thigh as you try to close them and buck your hips away from his face

it’s somehow too much and not enough at the same time, and it feels different from all those times you had taken time to pleasure yourself

this feels more primal, more intense, something that builds a pressure inside of you until it felt like you could burst at any moment

words have all but left your mind, only helpless pleas and calls of Kano’s name as he slides two fingers into your drooling pussy

he curls them upward at the same time as his lips suck on your clit, and you whine loudly, hips bucking against his face and your back arching off the bed as you cum

Kano doesn’t let up, letting you ride his face as he sucks your clit and continues to rub his fingers against that one spot, and you feel like you’re going insane as the pleasure starts to build up again too quickly after the last one

a large hand clasps onto the back of Kano’s neck, essentially scruffing him, and Cage pulls Kano away from you, your body falling down onto the sheets and trembling as you try and process the pleasure racing through your body

“oi, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Kano snaps at Johnny, lips curled down into a frown and a sneer on his face, and Johnny scowls back and throws Kano back away from you

Cage wants a taste of you for himself, something clenching at his heart as he looks at your arousal and cum smeared along Kano’s face and beard

he doesn’t explain himself as he lays down where Kano had been a moment ago, his lips moving to work along your leg, leaving gentle kisses along your skin as you pant

his arms go to move underneath your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he kisses along the length of him, and he feels you squirm and your fingers tug at his hair in an effort to give you what you want

“patience, sweetheart.” it’s all he says as he continues to kiss along your thighs, moving to your other one first before even thinking about touching your pussy

Kano seethes at Johnny’s side, jealous of how you seem more needy, more desperate for Johnny as he continues to deny you your pleasure

patience had never been Kano’s strong suit, eager to demonstrate his skills to you and make you cum on his tongue and his fingers, but you couldn’t blame him

you vexed Kano, one playful banter after the next whenever you had met in the past during battle, and for some reason, it had drawn him to you

none of the other Special Forces even bothered to talk to him, more focused on capturing or killing him, but you conversed with him, talked with him

in his own head, it felt like you cared for him, even if he was the enemy, and strangely enough, he felt safe with you, a feeling he hadn’t really had for the better part of two decades

to see you come apart for Johnny, Kano hated it, despised it as Cage finally placed a kiss onto your needy clit and drew a loud whine from your lips

your fingers tug at his cropped hair uselessly, trying to find any purchase as your lips let warbling moans and cries fill the air, and your hips desperately tries to grind against Johnny’s face as his tongue slides along your folds

his arms keep your hips pinned in place however, only letting you take the pleasure that he gives you, and it makes you needy and pathetic as you start to beg

“please, please, Johnny, mmng aannh, pl-please!” your cries grow in volume as Johnny ignores you, doing everything but touch your clit, and he watches as it slightly twitches

a small smile plays on his lips as he lays his tongue along the inside of your thigh and then nips at the skin, “please what? can’t give you what you want if you don’t ask.”

you want to sob, unable to really form a coherent sentence in your head as Johnny continues to tease you, and your tongue seems to twist on itself on you try and speak

“wan’ wanna cum, please, please, i want to cum!” hot tears finally escape your eyes, and you can distantly hear Kano stifle a groan at the sight of you so ruined underneath Johnny

as much as he despised Cage, Kano had to admit that his patience made this experience much more enjoyable to watch

Johnny practically purrs as you beg, and he moves one of his hands to lift up the hood your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking hard

it’s all too much at the same time, and you cum on his face as your hips buck and grind against his face and your sobs fill the air

his tongue presses flat long licks against your clit as your orgasm washes away, and your chest falls in uneven breaths as your body shakes

“you alright, luv?” Kano’s warm hand cradles your cheek, and you hum, eyes fluttering open to stare at his

Johnny watches through squinted eyes as Kano comes to coddle you, glaring at how he brushes a hair out of your face, and Johnny lets out a displeased grunt at the sight

he presses a kiss along the inside of your thigh before resting his cheek on it and looking up at you with a cheeky smirk, “so, who did it better?”

your mind still spins as you blink down at Johnny in confusion, “huh?”

“who made you feel better, me? or him?” Kano runs his fingers through your hair, eyes concentrated onto the nape of your neck where he had left the imprint of his teeth

“uh, um, i don’t-” you still feel heavy, clouded from both of your orgasms, and you whimper as Kano’s hand drifts down to rub along the bite mark he gave you, “-i don’t know.”

Kano’s lips pull into a grimace, a pang of jealousy running through his heart that he hadn’t really done any better than Johnny, and Johnny looks equally as disappointed at the verdict before a sly smile reappears on his face

“i guess we’ll just have to keep going until you decide, hm?” Johnny doesn’t give you a chance to answer before his tongue is back on you, lapping at your arousal and cum as a whine peals out of you, overstimulation starting to kick

for once, Kano agreed with Johnny, his eyes raking over the skin of your body as your eyes cloud with pleasure

neither really wanted the other to win, especially not if it meant they could spend the whole night with you like this

[getmeoutofhell]

Poly! Ghostface x reader NSFW headcanons

WARNINGS: this contains all nsfw content, if uncomfortable leave now for your protection!! there will be explicit language and actions. blood play, and others you’re just gonna have to read to find out!!

a/n: well, i thought why not make this?? since no one else has, it’s my opportunity. don’t forget to leave feedback, enjoy reading!! 💕

Main Headcanons:

with these 6 men, your orgasms are out the roof!!! they work together (most of the time) to make sure you have to best time of your live in bed. they leave hickeys, bite marks, bruises, they like to leave some of their love on you.

with the 6 of them, the make sure you don’t even think about running away. they will hold you down, tie you up, anything they need. mickey is the main one that holds you down, since he’s one of the strongest, he always has you going insane. they also have to train ethan and charlie to make sure they’re pleasuring you correctly.

not to mention they have you in all kind of positions. your back will always be sore the next day. but don’t worry, they will give you back massages afterwards!! “seems like our little slut is needy today hmm? what should we do boys?” you beg and plead for them to give you what you want, but most of the time that doesn’t even work.

roman is definitely the lead singer. he’s always the one in charge the most and the one who tells who what to do. he’s a director after all, which means he likes to make his own movies with you. 😉 very rarely will they’ll be arguments about the place they will be in. you don’t mind it tho, you like that there’s people fighting over you. it makes you love them even more than you already do.

if you wear something revealing and are about to head out, they immediately stop you in your tracks before you can even get to the door. “where you think you going dressed like that missy/mister?” mickey says, causing the other boys to come over. “you’re not going out with that on. unless one of us goes with you.” billy stated. you roll your eyes as you start to walk out the door. only to be stopped in your tracks by charlie. “sorry babe, but rules are rules.” 🤭

ethan is the most shy with you in bed. he always gets hard just from looking at you and your body. his cock is very sensitive as well. whenever you give him head, he never last long. it’s not like he can help it. the other boys had to train and help him last longer. it wasn’t easy. you find the whole thing cute tho.

“guys leave my baby ethan alone, i like that he’s so shy and sensitive.” you tell them. you see ethan blush next to you, causing you to get wet/hard. him and charlie like to lay you down and give you a kiss attack, but when they’re horny it’s 10x worse. hickeys will be every fucking where and there’s nothing you can do about it. orgasm denial is mostly when you don’t behave or follow their rules. “no slut, you don’t get to cum, you didn’t behave.”

they have a pretty big blood kink!! small nicks and cuts are bound to happen. now, if you don’t want that, tell them asap or else you’re gonna be screwed. when they cut you the lick up the blood left behind. “you taste so good sweet girl.” when they lick up your body it’s makes you so fucking wet and horny, it’s hard to contain yourself.

half of them are packing!! like stu, mickey, & roman are definitely packing a bundle down there!! the others are average size, which is perfectly fine with you because it’s how you use it, not what it looks like (🤫) but ethan and charlie have some insecurities about their size, making you have one on one conversations with them about how that doesn’t matter to you. over some time they get over it, and get more comfortable showing you. they make you choke, groan, moan, and hell anything with pleasure they make you feel it.

Female Reader Headcanons:

these boys and your pussy are intertwined together. at least once a day someone has their hand in your pants, playing with your folds or clit. they think your pussy is a gift from the gifs or something, which means they worship it. they love when your pussy is so soaked that it leave a stain on the blanket, it’s makes them so fucking hard and makes them fuck you even more crazy.

mickey will hold your legs open as stu will devour your pussy like it’s the last meal. “c-can’t take it anymore, i’m gonna cum again mm…” “no no, you’re not done until i say baby.” it’s a whole riot for you and your poor pussy. your folds are drenched as your eyes get heavy. your body can only stand so much at once. “take this fucking dick slut, that’s it…good girl.”

period sex is also a major thing!! they don’t care about getting their dick bloody at all, just as long as it’s inside of you. another thing they don’t care about, is hair, they don’t mind a little hair down there, it doesn’t stop them from fucking the shit out of you now does it?? ;) they suck on your tittes and lick up your spine, like you’re some sort of prey of theirs. if you have a bigger chest size, they will take the opportunity to fuck your tits. if not, that’s okay they still show love to you and your body!!

you can tell when the boys are very needy. they won’t leave your side. “yes charlie. do you need something?” he makes puppy eyes. “can i- eat your pussy? it’s okay if not but…” you just kiss him and sex insures. he loves when you ride him, choke him even. he’s a slut in your eyes. a good slut that you like to throw around, a good boy he is indeed. ethan is not far off tbh, he’s just a whore as charlie is if not more.

“one of y’all come eat this pussy.” you can understand how fast they all got up to come to you. “y’all are such good boys for me.” you love to take opportunities to tease them to death, god you love it. but don’t get me wrong, they tease you as well. your clit gets so swollen and sore after their fun time with you. how can i forget, the vibrations!?! yeah good lunch because you’ll have a vibratior in you almost everyday.

[mybelovedfleur]

,,𝐵𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶" 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝐼

(Yandere!Silco x Amnesiac!Fem!Reader)

!TW! FantasyAU! Heavy Yandere Themes, Silco is ooc for sure, vomiting, sick!reader, violence, mention of death, violence, dark yandere, I will tag every chapter seperately! :)

Description: ,, A series of unfortunate events causes you to completely lose your memory. Now, you find yourself thrust into the role of the Duchess of Zaun, married to a man you don’t recognize. But was this ever truly your life? And why does the scent of blood cling to you, no matter where you go? "

Note: english is NOT my first language, I am very much open for critique and suggestions but pls be nice and respectful :c I DO NOT support any of these behaviors!

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Silco leaned over you, concern in his eyes, as if the slightest sign of your pain hurt him just as much. He carefully adjusted the pillow so that you could comfortably rest your injured head on it.

"Do you feel worse? Should I get a doctor?" he whispered with tension in his voice, the trembling note betraying how much he cared about your health.

You haven't shown the slightest interest in leaving your bed all morning - a completely different behavior from your determination yesterday.

No wonder Silco noticed it right away. Seeing that you didn't even try to get up to eat breakfast, he became clearly worried. From that moment on, he constantly circled you like a tireless bee, trying to help you in every way possible. Instead of comforting you, his excessive concern began to irritate you - it was the first time he seemed so burdensome. You were overwhelmed by the dark memories of the nightmare that still weighed on your mind, and Silco didn't give you a moment's respite to simply delve into your own thoughts.

,,I feel like I always do, I just don't have the strength. It's nothing serious" you said, finally trying to calm him down. But Silco didn't look convinced. His gaze wandered over your body, as if stubbornly searching for something that could betray you

,,I have an important meeting today... " he whispered under his breath, clearly to himself, but you heard it clearly. You didn't have time to say anything, because his gaze fell roght back on your face.

,, It doesn't matter" he said in a confident tone, his voice firm" I'll stay with you"

If you had more strength, and the wound on the back of your head wasn't throbbing with irritating pain, you would have surely jumped up.

"No, please..." you said pleadingly, staring at him. "I don't want to be a burden again. You hardly leave my side anyway"

Silco froze for a moment, as if your words had hurt him more than he would like to admit. When he finally spoke, his tone was unexpectedly serious.

"Don't ever say that again" he said firmly.

You sighed, feeling the weight of guilt gripping your heart."I just don't want to stop you," you began quietly, struggling to gather your thoughts. 

"I want to prove to both of us that I can handle myself, even in times like these. If you go to this meeting... I'll be truly happy"

Silco stood up and began to pace nervously around the room, you could almost hear the grinding of his teeth. His hand involuntarily went to the scarred side of his face, which he rubbed as if trying to quell the growing frustration. You waited tensely, holding your breath, wondering if your words had angered him.

"The servants are well trained" he finally said, his voice full of reluctance, as if each word was difficult for him. "They know what to do. Don't hesitate to send for me if something happens, or if you simply need me."

His gaze finally met yours.

"I'll drop everything and come to you" he added with such intensity that you had no doubts about the sincerity of his words.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─ 

It wasn't like you hadn't noticed the estate workers before – they were there, but rather like shadows moving in the background, silently carrying out your husband's orders. They were the ones who helped you with more intimate activities, such as changing or washing. Although it made things easier for you, you quickly noticed that Silco approached this matter with clear reluctance.

When you first asked for a new nightgown and the opportunity to wash up, he fulfilled your wish almost immediately. However, his reaction to this request exceeded your expectations - before you knew it, he was already filling the bathtub with water, sitting you on the stool next to it. When with unwavering determination he wanted to help you take off your clothes, you felt your face immediately turn red like a beetroot.

Embarrassed, you calmly asked him to let you do it yourself. His expression was hard to read - as if he was fighting with his thoughts. From that moment on, he waited for you outside the bathroom door, visibly anxious and even outraged whenever one of the servants helped you with something that he felt should have been his role.

 Now, you had a real chance to make contact with them, maybe even have a short conversation. Up until now, everything you knew about your life had come from Silco's mouth. His stories, while very romantic, were undoubtedly tinged with his feelings, perhaps even idealized – which was no surprise, considering the way he was devoted to his role as your loving husband.

The prospect of hearing something about yourself from an outsider, someone who wasn't emotionally attached to you, seemed almost exciting. It could be a chance to look at your life from a different perspective – and perhaps discover something new about yourself.

You were being looked after by three women: two middle-aged and one clearly younger. They were all dressed in impeccably ironed black uniforms that emphasized their professionalism. They moved around you with mechanical precision – their movements were so perfect and synchronized that they almost resembled some sort of machines. Silco wasn't exaggerating when he said that they were highly trained.

 Your ambitious plans to start a conversation didn't go so well at first. You were too nervous, and their distant attitude only increased your embarrassment.

It was only when the younger girl was left alone in the room to change the sheets on the bed that you felt it was the right moment to speak up. So you broke through, saying the first words

"What's your name?" you asked, trying to make your voice sound natural, although you yourself felt slightly embarrassed. The girl, noticeably surprised, stopped for a moment, as if wondering what she should do, whether to answer you at all.

 A moment of silence passed, which seemed to last forever, before finally, with a nervousness in her voice, she answered

"Erin, my lady"  she somehow radiated a warmth that immediately worked in your favor, and you felt your self-confidence begin to grow.

"Erin" you repeated. 

You noticed how the girl visibly relaxed, and a delicate, almost shy smile appeared on her face.

"Tell me, how long have you been working here?" she put down the pillow she was working on and finally turned her full attention to you.

"Only a month, Ma'am" she replied. As soon as you heard her words, you sighed with resignation.

"The entire staff has been here for a month" she added quickly. At these words, you looked up, and your eyes narrowed in a sign of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

"How so?"

The girl, now clearly regretting speaking, began nervously adjusting her uniform.

"The Duke replaced the entire staff after your accident," she explained quickly, as if these words were supposed to calm the situation, although they had the opposite effect.

You wanted to ask for details, for reasons, for what exactly had happened, but before you could say anything, the door flew open. One of the older women entered the room with a silver tray full of medicines.

The older woman gave the girl a reprimanding look that was telling enough for the young maid to immediately return to her work, lowering her gaze like a guilty child.

When the servants finished their duties, both women bowed low and asked if you needed anything else. You forced yourself to briefly deny it, even though your thoughts were screaming to stop them and force out more information. A moment later, the door closed behind them, leaving you alone in the room, again.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─ 

By the end of the day, your strength had returned, at least enough to get out of bed and sit on the edge. You still felt a slight weakness in your legs, but the knowledge that at least you had managed to overcome your constant fatigue was comforting. On the nightstand stood a silver tray of medicines – the same tablets whose bitter taste made you nauseous, and whose effects locked you in a numbing fog. You looked at them with reluctance, the dark purple – almost black liquid standing in the cup almost made you nauseous by its very sight. A decision was made in your head – not now. You would use this moment, when your body finally did not betray you, and Silco did not hover nearby like a guard watching over a prisoner.

Without the constant feeling of sleepiness, you finally felt like your thoughts were your own—clear, clear, unencumbered by the fog of medication. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could look at your situation clearly. For days, weeks, maybe even longer, you felt like Silco had not only taken control of your life, but also of what you thought and felt. His words, his presence, even his care—all seemed to shape your reality.

But now, as that grip eased, the truth began to weigh on you, something here was wrong. The situation you found yourself in was far from normal, no matter how beautifully Silco tried to present it. There were too many of his versions of events in this story, his sweet promises, his comfortable half-truths. And the answers you were desperately searching for? There were none. There were only gaps, silence, and then his narrative again. You could see it clearly now—and it was that clarity of mind that made the weight of it all seem unbearable.

You knew that if you wanted to regain even a shred of sanity, you had to get out of this room—this claustrophobic prison where everything seemed to reek of control. You wanted to feel the fresh air, to touch the earth in the garden that had only existed for you as a view through closed, unyielding windows.

But you couldn't. Your body was betraying you, just as it had been betraying you all these days. You knew that if you tried, your legs would give out and you would eventually collapse to the floor—helpless, weak, unable to even get up. The arms that should have held you up would fail. Your imagination showed you the image of Silco entering the room, of you lying there—motionless, completely defenseless, yet more proof that you should have listened to his commands.

The thought squeezed you from the inside, and the frustration you had tried to suppress surged like a wave. You felt the stinging tears welling up in your eyes, the helplessness choking you in your throat. You yearned for freedom so much, but you were a prisoner of your own body.

As if all that wasn't enough, you still felt the weight of your nightmare from today, never leaving you. It lingered in the back of your mind like a persistent shadow, blurry but still clear enough to send shivers down your spine. There was something disturbingly familiar about the nightmare, something that wouldn't leave you alone.

Raised voices could be heard from behind the door leading to Silco's office. They were muffled, but their tone indicated that this was no ordinary conversation - it was an argument. You easily recognized one of the voices as Silco's. The other voice, however, was unfamiliar to you, although unlike your husband, he didn't care about the volume of his tone, probably not knowing that someone on the other side could hear them, the words were still too distorted for you to understand anything.

Your eyes automatically went to the tray of medicines, and then to the door leading to the office. Common sense told you to stay in bed, but something else - curiosity, anxiety, maybe even instinct - told you to act. Pushing aside all logical thoughts, you slowly shifted on the bed, trying to get closer to the source of the sound. However, despite your efforts, the voices were still indistinct, and frustration grew inside you.In a burst of courage—or perhaps mad stupidity—you decided to do something more. 

You grabbed the bed frame, bracing your shaking hands on it, and struggled to your feet. The wall was your only support as you took your first step toward the door.

When you reached your destination, your heart started beating faster, but this time not from the effort, but from relief. You made it – for the first time, you had crossed the entire room without anyone's help. But that feeling of pride only lasted a moment, because suddenly you heard the slam of the office door and quick footsteps, clearly heading your way. Your heart froze in your chest. You didn't have time to back up or think about what to do. 

The door opened abruptly, almost hitting you in the face. You were leaning against the door frame and the handle to keep your balance, but the sudden movement took away all of your support. The world around you blurred, and you felt yourself starting to fall. Before you could touch the floor, you felt strong hands grab you at the last moment. 

The grip was firm, almost too strong, you looked up and looked straight into Silco's eyes, which shone with something between surprise and irritation. His face was drawn, as if he was fighting to keep from exploding with anger, but you could clearly see the shadow of concern that was breaking through his mask of composure.

"What are you doing?" he hissed quietly, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and concern.

Silco wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, so that your faces were almost at the same level. You felt his hands grip your waist tightly, holding you in place as if to make sure you didn't disappear from his field of vision. His gaze was intense, piercing, but you avoided it, lowering your gaze and whispering barely audibly:

"I heard noises outside the door... I got scared" your voice was shaking. Silco narrowed his eyes, then looked away, glancing over your shoulder as if searching for something behind you. But that only lasted a moment. His gaze quickly returned to you - now full of irritation, and his expression changed as if someone had turned off the mask of composure he always wore.

"Why didn't you take your medicine?" he asked, anger growing in his voice.

 "Why are you trying so hard to disobey me?!" before you could say anything, his hands moved to your shoulders, gripping them tightly, his voice growing increasingly tense. Before you could protest, you felt him shake your body. Not hard, but enough to force you to look him in the eyes. His hands seemed to desperately hold you to him, as if they were trying to force you into obedience. 

"Look at me" he growled, his voice shaking, but it wasn't just anger anymore. There was something else in his eyes, behind the facade of anger - fear.

Your gaze remained fixed on your hands clasped on his torso, however, Silco clearly had no intention of waiting for your reaction. In a burst of frustration and desperation, his hand moved to the back of your head, grabbing a spot that had not yet healed. Before you could react, he forced you to lift your head and look him straight in the eye.

Pain exploded like fire, spreading throughout your body, and a sudden, suffering cry escaped your lips. Silco froze, as if he had only just realized what he had done. His hand immediately let go of your head, and the rest of your body recoiled in terror, it was enough for your tired legs to give out. You fell to the floor, with nothing to hold on to.

For several long seconds, Silco stood motionless, as if what had happened was unreal to him. His gaze, filled with anger a moment ago, now seemed as if something inside him had snapped.

As you lifted your gaze, trying to catch your breath and control the pain, something about the image before you seemed strangely familiar. Silco stood still, his silhouette silhouetted against the warm glow of the dying fire in the fireplace, but your eyes could no longer focus on the details. The tears that had welled up in your eyes began to blur reality, and you felt as if the room had suddenly become dark.

You blinked once, then twice, and the image before you changed. Instead of a room, you saw something that resembled a scene from a nightmare. Silco stood before you in the rain, his clothes soaked through, drops running down the material in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic pace.

The entire figure seemed to be taken from another world, yet terrifyingly real at the same time. The only thing that remained clear in this illusion was his injured eye. It glowed in the darkness like a cursed light.

You didn't know if it was a memory, a hallucination caused by the pain, or something more. But one thing was certain - at that moment the line between reality and nightmare began to blur, and you felt like you were drowning in this darkness, the epicenter of which was him.

You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your shaking hands. Tears flowed steadily, hot and stinging, as if burning paths into your skin. The pain, both physical and mental, seemed to take over every aspect of your existence.

"Drink," you heard suddenly, his voice hard, almost impervious to argument.

Before you could protest, you felt Silco lift you off the floor. His movements were surprisingly gentle, though you could feel his hands shaking.

Before you knew what was happening, a silver goblet touched your lips. The dark liquid, the sharp smell of which filled your nostrils, was thick, viscous, its bitter taste immediately hit your taste buds, almost causing a gag reflex, but Silco didn't stop

"Drink" he repeated, this time more insistently, and his free hand held your face, not letting you turn away

You felt the liquid pour into your mouth, and he forced you to swallow. His hand, although shaking, was unwavering, and his gaze was focused on only one thing, regardless of your protests.

When he finally moved the cup away from your lips, you felt the remnants of the liquid run down your chin, leaving a sticky trail on your skin. A few dark drops landed on your nightgown, staining the delicate material.

Your body began to betray you – weakened and tired, unable to fight any longer. Your head fell limply, and Silco gently supported it and placed it on his lap. His touch, although full of anger a moment ago, now seemed almost tender.

You felt a piece of his shirt wipe your face. It was a rough, yet surprisingly caring attempt to wipe away the tears, the traces of liquid, and the pain that seemed to be etched into your skin. His gestures were mechanical, as if he was trying to recreate something a loving husband should do.

Your eyelids began to close, heavy with fatigue and tears. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence surrounding you, although you didn't feel safe at all. It was more than resignation – it was capitulation to fate, to him.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Taglist: @missbeeentertainment

Notes: I'm sorry if there is a lot of mistakes, I was writing it on my phone which has a polish auto correction, and I do not know how to turn it off :( Thank you so so so much for all your love and support, every time I see a notification I feel so grateful for every one of you! Thank you so much and hopefully see you again! <3

[aquamarixx]

breaking point

faking an injury to escape the burn out, Hiori Yo meets you at the brink of his breaking point and discovers what’s he’s missing; the courage to breathe, to rest, and to finally choose himself for once.

⁺₊ ❆ TURNING POINT 2025 ENTRY ❆ ₊⁺ pairing hiori yo x reader word count 2.3k words tags post timeskip, aged up, hurt/comfort, good ending, hiori just tired of the endless grind navigation

Hiori Yo is exhausted.

Ever since getting out of Blue Lock and being drafted into Bastard München, football has consumed his entire life. The intense matches, relentless training, and constant scrutiny have left him drained, with no time to breathe or process the pressure he feels both on and off the field. 

Every move on the field feels like walking a tightrope, with countless eyes ready to tear him apart the moment he stumbles. His teammates are laser-focused on victory, their intensity leaving no room for camaraderie. And then there are his parents.

His parents, teetering on the brink of divorce,who continue to see him as their last hope to fix their fractured relationship. But Hiori knows better.

No amount of football glory will solve their problems.

He would rather have them get divorced than let their dissatisfaction and resentment towards each other fester any further. Because at this point, there’s nothing to save.

No one’s winning. Not his mom, not his dad, and especially not him. 

So when a nasty collision with Barou during an exhibition match against Italy Ubers results into a mild sprain, Hiori takes advantage of it. He pretends his injuries are worse than they are, hoping to escape the constant grind of football and take a much-needed break. 

The league assigns him to you, a young physical therapist with a promising reputation.

When he first meets you, the first thing he notices are your eyes. Your eyes—so bright and full of life—are a stark contrast to his own, dulled by burnout.They’re so full of life. 

Even your handshake catches him off guard, firm and enthusiastic, as if you genuinely care about this moment. You shake his hands, a little too eager, a little too tighter than he expected.

Aah. Must be nice, Hiori thinks, to have that kind of passion and not feel like you're being crushed by it.

“It’s a Grade 2 sprain,” you explain during your first consultation. “No broken bones or torn tissues, just mild swelling. With proper care, you’ll be back on the field in three to six weeks.” You pause, glancing at your clipboard. “I do recommend physical therapy to ensure everything heals correctly, and your team manager requested it as well.”

Three to six weeks. It’s isn’t bad. But if he plays his cards right, maybe he can stretch it to ten or even twelve weeks. Anything to keep himself off the field a little longer.

At first, Hiori half-heartedly goes through the motions. But as the weeks pass, you notice how quickly he’s recovering. By the third week, it’s clear he could be back to full strength in another three.

That’s when Hiori ups his game.

“I’m still feeling some pain,” he tells you during a session, wincing for effect as he tests his ankle.

Alarmed, you immediately run additional tests. The results come back clear—no abnormalities, no lingering issues. But Hiori insists the pain is real, suggesting he just needs more rest at home (and by “rest,” he means gaming marathons on his PC).

Your concern deepens, not wanting to risk it, especially since Hiori isn’t just any athlete. “Skipping therapy isn’t an option,” you warn, your tone firm but not unkind. “If you don’t stick to the regimen, I’ll have to notify your team.”

Hiori stiffens. His plan to buy more time is starting to backfire. Begrudgingly, he agrees to continue.

As the weeks go by, Hiori does find himself looking forward to your sessions. You’re different from the cold, mechanical efficiency he’s used to in his professional life. You’re kind and thoughtful, and he notices how your eyes light up when you’re helping others.

Even when you’re clearly exhausted, you go out of your way to cheer up the kids waiting in the clinic, slipping them candy when no one’s watching. Sometimes, the older patients would strike up conversations, and though you’d apologize to him afterward for the delay, he never really minded.

There’s something appealing about your openness, your passion, the way you seem to pour your whole heart into every detail of your work. He envies it. It’s the same kind of fire he used to have for football, the fire that now feels like a dying ember.

And as he continues to enjoy his sessions with you, the guilt starts to pile up. He sees the extra hours you put in, combing through his test results, double-checking your notes. One night, he overhears you fretting aloud about the possibility of ruining someone’s career or being seen as incompetent.

“What if I’m wrong?” you whisper but it can’t hide the fear in your voice. “What if I’m missing something and it ruins his career?”

He recognizes the weight of your anxiety—the same kind of crushing pressure he feels from his parents’ expectations. For the first time, he sees her not just as an obstacle to his rest, but as someone who understands his struggles.

It eats him, seeing someone who’s only trying to help him be that affected by his lies. 

During a particularly long session, you’re clearly worn down. You arrived later than usual, in a disheveled state. Your hair is a mess, a couple of strands escaping your low bun. Bags grow darker under your eyes and there’s sluggishness in your movements. You skim through your notes quickly, your voice faltering under the weight of your own exhaustion.

“So, Hiori, it’s possible this could be an occult fracture or stress fractures,” you say, speaking faster than usual for someone who’s tired. “These can happen because of repetitive injuries or even normal stress on weakened bones. Normally, the body can repair these fractures with time, but without rest, they can worsen, potentially leading to larger fractures.”

Normally, the bone is able to repair these small fractures. But that needs time. When the activity continues or happens again before the repairs are complete, these small fractures can add up to form a stress fracture. In extreme cases, ongoing activities can cause sudden larger fractures.” You were talking a bit faster, skimming through your notes. The guilt begins to seep in. 

You pause, rubbing your temples. “I’ve never handled a case like this before, so I’ve been consulting with other colleagues and rechecking everything. Your team manager agreed to extend your therapy for another four weeks—just to be safe.”

“I haven’t had a case like this before. So it might take a couple of more weeks for us to address the issue. I hope you didn’t mind that I took the liberty of talking to your team manager to extend your sessions for at least 4 more weeks.”

Four more weeks. He should be thrilled, but all he sees is the strain in your posture and the doubt clouding your voice. He can’t take it anymore.

“I’ve been lying,” he blurts out, the words sharp and trembling as if they’ve been clawing their way out for weeks.

You pause mid-note, your pen hovering over the paper. Slowly, you lift your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“I… I exaggerated my injury,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I needed an excuse—a way out. From football, my parents, everything.”

Your gaze remains steady, unreadable, as his words hang in the air. Then, you blink, your lips parting slightly in disbelief. “You… lied?”

He looks down, shame written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“You lied?” you repeat, the weight of his confession beginning to sink in. Your voice is calm, but there’s a quiet tremor beneath it, a raw edge he doesn’t miss. “Hiori, do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Do you have any idea?” you interrupt, your tone still measured, though cracks of exhaustion begin to show. “I’ve been losing sleep over your case. Nights spent second-guessing every test, wondering if I missed something crucial. I’ve gone over your file more times than I can count because I thought I was failing you.”

He flinches, guilt carving deep lines into his face. “I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t,” you say, the weight of your words pressing down on him. Your voice isn’t loud, but it’s tired, worn thin by the toll of his deception. “You didn’t think about how this would affect me. About the stress, the doubt, the hours I’ve poured into trying to help you.”

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice cracking. “I know I messed up. But I didn’t do it to hurt you. I just… I couldn’t breathe anymore.” Now, it’s his turn to break. 

And you notice it. How tense he is, as if there’s so much he’s been carrying on his back. Your shoulders slump slightly, the anger ebbing into something more fragile. But you don’t respond, letting the silence stretch until he speaks again.

“My parents… They’ve always been fighting, ever since I can remember. And I’m stuck in the middle, trying to hold everything together. Football used to be my escape, but now it’s just another thing they argue about. Another way for them to push me. I didn’t know how to tell anyone.”

The room grows heavy with his confession. You glance at him, and for the first time, his usual calm exterior has shattered, revealing a young man who’s barely holding himself together.

Taking a deep breath, you place your notes down and fold your hands. “Hiori,” you say softly, though there’s still an edge of weariness in your tone. “Running from your problems doesn’t make them go away. And pulling other people into your escape… it’s not fair. To me, or to yourself.”

He nods, his eyes downcast. You hesitate for a moment before continuing.

“And you can’t just admire passion from afar, Hiori. You have to fight for it. Even when it feels like the world is against you.”

His eyes meet yours, wide and glassy. “I know,” he whispers. “I just didn’t know what else to do. But… meeting you, seeing how much you care—about your work, about your patients—it’s made me realize something.”

You raise an eyebrow, but stay silent, letting him continue.

“You don’t just care because it’s your job,” he says, his voice steadying. “You care because it’s who you are. And seeing that… it made me realize how far I’ve drifted from what I used to love. From who I want to be.”

His words catch you off guard, striking a chord you didn’t expect. You look at him for a long moment, your exhaustion giving way to something softer. Your expression softens as his words sink in. 

“I want to try. Not just for football, but for myself. For everything I’ve been running from.” He nods, his expression resolute. 

For the first time since his confession, a faint smile tugs at your lips. “Good. Because the only way out of this is through it.”

“Also… You know I should report this, right?” you say, half-joking, as Hiori stays quiet, his expression flickering with surprise at the sudden shift in tone.

“But I won’t,” you add, your grin softening. “Doctor-patient confidentiality and all.”

You laugh, and after a beat, he laughs too—a sound lighter than anything you’ve heard from him before.

In that moment, something shifts. The air feels lighter, the tension unraveling into something resembling hope. He came here for a way to heal his body, but what he found was a way to start healing his soul.

And you, despite your exhaustion, can’t help but feel a flicker of pride—because maybe, just maybe, you’ve helped him take the first step toward being whole again.

From that day on, Hiori approaches therapy differently. The façade he had built around himself starts to crack, allowing glimpses of the person he truly is. He stops faking symptoms and begins putting in genuine effort, not just for his body but for his mind. Each session becomes more than just a routine of stretches and exercises—it’s a space where he starts to confront the feelings he’s buried for so long.

When the two of you are alone, you talk about things outside football, like good old friends. He talks about the pressure he’s been under, the weight of expectations from everyone around him, and the way football, once his passion, had turned into a source of dread. You listen, guiding him where you can, but mostly letting him navigate his own thoughts. 

It’s a strange dynamic, but somehow, it feels natural. It feels right.

Outside of therapy, Hiori begins to address the chaos at home. For the first time, he sits his parents down and tells them how their arguments have affected him, how he’s been caught in the crossfire of their unhappiness. It’s not easy, and there are setbacks, but he’s no longer running from the conversations that once felt impossible. 

By the time his final session arrives, he’s changed a bit. He’s still Hiori—the same sharp-witted, slightly mischievous person you met weeks ago—but there’s a newfound lightness in him. 

As the session wraps up, he lingers by the door, his usual confidence replaced by something a little more hesitant. Finally, he turns to you, his hands shoved into his pockets. “I know this is probably the worst time, but… would you maybe want to grab coffee sometime?

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. 

“You’re the first person I’ve felt like I could really talk to in… forever.” He confesses. And you see it—the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability he’s no longer afraid to show. It’s not the charm of an athlete used to getting his way; it’s the genuine request of someone who’s found a lifeline and wants to hold onto it, if only for a little while longer.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Okay,” you say finally, a smile breaking through the fatigue. “But only if you promise to stop faking injuries.”

Hiori laughs—a real, unburdened laugh that seems to echo in the room, filling the space with warmth. “Deal,” he says, his grin wide and boyish.

amari's notes: this went on a bit longer than i wanted. this has been a longtime headcanon. i think he'll try to get out of playing football for a while to rest and rot in his bedroom to play games. anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask or even a request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

taglist: @inu1gf

[cryptid-killjoy]

"Cool, we're the pineapple under the sea crew if Iorek's in."

Normal chatter until Livvy came up. There was Figaro looking on the bright though.

"True. She's not dead. At least I'm not mourning her legendary pirate soul." He started to grin at the simple act of calling her a pirate recalling how she got her name to begin with. It was so silly. How could he not smile? Then it fell. "Pretty sure she wouldn't want to see me if we did bump into each other." Then it started to grow again. "But watching her attempt to ignore, act cool, or act audacious, whichever would be cute either way." He chuckled at the thought wondering where her instinct would take her.

As for missing the randomness of people in society for these two social creatures Will was nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, exactly. That's exactly what I mean. We need chile, Smalls. I'm more used to life being a chilli cook off actually. Not just Skyline versus Goldstar, but a god damn county fair cook off any day I feel like not being in the walls. You hit the nail on the head there. Some days I even want a Chilli Dog."

Nothing got his smile to spread more than the mention of Hansel. His time in the walls was special to him. But, oh the phrasing, in the closet. He laughed out loud. "Don't crush me with ideas, Smalls. Hansel's a handsome guy." Willem would hardly be ashamed to admit he got off with a couple girls more on the idea Hansel might have been peeking through the secret wall holes and believing he was giving him a show than the thought of the girls he was with. He never said these sorts of thoughts out loud though. Hansel was probably that best friend secret soft-crush he'd never move on because A. dude was straight, and B. he'd never want to hurt Funkytown if something went wrong even if he wasn't straight. He started to realize flirting with Diana too much started to be an issue. He never wanted to hurt a doll in any way. Either way he sure didn't mind giving Hansel a show and enjoyed it.

When they got out of the bus it was hard not to notice the amount of corpse debris strewn about. He flared his nostrils on first foul breath. He put the back of his wrist up to his nose. "You might want to wear that around your neck. Damn." His brows furrowed as his face cringed unable to stop inhaling in the pungent odor due to need for breathing. He'd smelled worse, especially in the beginning, but he still wasn't used to it no matter how long he'd lived in Feral.

All he could even think to say about Quarantine was, "That's Feral for ya." It was hardly shocking even if his nose still disliked it.

Another big smile spread when he saw Figaro with a rather large weapon. "Hell yeah. That's what I'm talking 'bout. Dear Davey Jones. You look so... kick ass."

The best part of Bastien and his hoarding and their strange nothing you need store is everything that's expensive is nothing but a treasure hunt away. This appealed to Willem's pirate looting side. Bastien had a tendency to hoard anything and everything and organized in a system of his own design. Willem was more specific with his looting. That said one can best bet Wild Will came home to Funkytown one day with the Resident Evil VRs for his horror movie watching household. He brought enough headsets for half the dolls to play and even modded them to fit smaller dolls heads. Of course, the Polly Pockets and action figure sized were still out of luck, but he tried to make them user friendly. It was one of his own favorite loots.

"Yes, and please." He was ready to go up and check out the dolls that were haunting his mind tonight. He knew he wasn't going to sleep well if he didn't go check on them. So, he led Figaro on up to Livvy's old apartment. Willem had over time even gotten the key to the front door to the place because he heard of Frank's people races for Feral. The reality was most didn't make it beyond the race and if they did, they weren't prepared for what Feral was. The zombies got them before they had a chance to settle in, but on the off chance someone was a tough cookie that survived the Feral trials he wanted to keep this one space safe. So, he'd be seen pulling out a key of his own and unlocking her apartment as if it was his own. It wasn't a difficult item to acquire when the Landlord's office was abandoned.

"This is it." He knew Figaro wanted to rummage her uncle's belongings, but he still walked back to Livvy's room first.

"Her room is back here."

The shelving unit he made that Livvy never saw would be there, installed, and covered neatly in her collection of dolls and figurines. They were all lined up with care and placed at aesthetically pleasing angles.

He reached in for the mermaid first and sat on the edge of her bed. "I love this one." He said before kicking off the portion of his costume that made his feet look like hooves. They were getting uncomfortable, and it was a show he was making himself comfortable and intended to stay for a while. He was in no rush.

He took a dust cloth that was sitting off on a side table and wiped it off. It was still sitting there from last time he'd been in along with some Windex and dust spray. He intended to wipe down the shelves and tend to each one like he always did.

"She loved this one." He added. The Livvy Mermaid. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment, but he enjoyed letting the memories whirl around his head as he touched each one that were living in boxes before he pulled them out, like a collector too afraid to open them up afraid of them losing value instead of enjoying them. The only difference was he knew that wasn't why she kept them in the box. Willem always saw Livvy as another little giant too busy trying to be what she wasn't or who she thought others needed her to be to enjoy who she was. That's why he knew those dolls were loved even shoved in the back of a closet in boxes instead of given away, donated, or sold off. It was thoughts like that which Livvy never quite knew or understood about Willem because they never dwelled long on depths of each other, but it was still thoughts like that which kept Willem attached. It was too close to home.

"Every now and again I think about bringing them all back to Funkytown, but I think they'll worry they might miss her if she comes back." He'd say as if they were actually alive and had thoughts and feelings even all of these didn't have any of the Geppetto magic on them. Willem believed he understood all the feelings of dolls even when they didn't.

"They don't get too lonely. They have each other." He let Figaro know in case they were worried. It had been a worry of his.

He looked more at peace in there than at the ball. "You don't have to sit here while I tidy them. You can go exploring like you wanted. I can meet you in there when I'm done if you want?" He had a feeling Figaro would get bored watching him dust the figurines and shelves and fluff the dolls.

“I am feeling pretty jolly,” Figaro admitted. Seeing their father was bittersweet but there was a lot of good to take away from that. He was watching over them. And he was proud. The ghosts of their Merry Men friends stuck around. There wasn’t much reason to not be jolly.

“I think I’d make a sick Larry,” Figaro hummed as they careened the bus down the mountain road. “Hey Iorek, you wanna be Gary?”

The bear let out a sound that sounded half-whine, half yawn. Figaro looked over their shoulder at him.

“Mrs. Puff? You want to be Mrs goddamn Puff?” They said, with wide eyes. “Damn. I didn’t know you wanted to go for sex appeal. Let’s fuckin do it.”

They nodded, not having much of an opinion either way of whether Livvy was still going to be active in their lives or not. “Hey, she’s alive though, that’s something,” They said. Not a lot of people were these days. “So there’s a chance that you’ll be able to see her again.”

Looking on the bright side wasn’t always their forte but when it came to Will? Goddamn, they really wanted him to be happy. Even if it was with someone like Livvy. That girl had made him smile, while also being frustrating at the same time. Messy - but at least he was showing his teeth.

“You’re right about that, I miss meeting people,” Figaro said, eyes on the road, their voice actually being serious. “Nothing against our friends obviously but - yeah. Variety in the spice of life and we’re not getting that. I’m growing sick of paprika, I want some chile.”

They didn’t mean this romantically, obviously, but they were a social being. There was nothing shy about Figaro. They’d just pop in and make themselves at home, that’s how they made a lot of their friends. And either they gott rejected, or they were invited in as if they had always been there. Meeting Flotsam, as if they had been instant best friends the moment that they met. The high school cafeteria table where they sat, despite not really talking to Arthur and Lance, boom, as if they had been sitting together since kindergarden. And then inviting Willem over to live with them despite only having spoken for a couple of days. They tested that chemistry with a lot of people. And now there wasn’t anyone to pop up on.

Figaro agreed though. Willem did need a certain kind of chaos in his life. “Maybe she’ll surprise ya one day,” They offered. Granted, it seemed HIGHLY unlikely that Delta was ever going to invite in someone like Livvy, a human that didn’t offer that much to her at all. Not without killing her or something similar. But regardless. Stranger things have happened.

They chuckled as they heard Willem sing and joined in with the tune. “-in the closet, that’s Hansel, he’s a bit shy so don’t scream too much!”

They parked up by the playground and looked out the windshield at the building. This area didn’t get much upkeep in Feral. Willem was the only one who really ever came to it. Old blood - once a bright red but now a brick-brown, blended into the walls, and a few bodies still lay around, decomposing. Figaro grabbed the Dragon-Fruit Little Tree air freshener from the mirror and wrapped it around their wrist. “Man, I hate the smell of the dead in the morning,” They sighed.

The bodies didn’t smell too much. It was mostly just bones and a bit of ooze. Being left out in the elements like the sun and the rain definitely had their effects. But they took a big whiff of the air freshener before daring to step outside.

It was still dark, the sky only lightening slightly, as they approached the building. It seemed so desolate. It didn’t need the Frank and Delta treatment to be spooky. “Why am I getting REC vibes? Quarantine? I wish I had a machete.”

That’s when they spotted something glistening. “Oh hey, a dead cop. Oooooh, hey, a dead cop’s gun!” They said, going towards it and took it out of the corpse’s fingerbones. “Now we’re going Resident Evil, baby. Let’s go hang out with some cool dolls.”