#too early on for him to be able to tolerate it for any amount of time but he *wanted to*. so badly. and he wanted to comfort Wingdings too

[capricioussun]

Does four arms mean that Void is twice as good at hand holding? 👀

I know this was intentioned mostly jokingly but it doesn't! Not bc of the number, but being a vessel actually totally fucked up several aspects of...idk, physically existing, I guess, and made his bones super sensitive at times.

It's worse when he’s unfocused or isn't expecting it, and gets better as his overall control does, but I think I best described it once by saying that he just constantly feels like he’s got television static in his bones. At its worst, more or less, it feels like heavy burning, like painful chipping tree bark, and at its best, even waaay later, it feels like buzzing or a low pressure. And then any touch sort of draws the focus of those feelings to the point of contact/worsens it.

He’s mostly tuned it out just from how used to it he is, like most of his other oddities, but generally speaking it's why he tends to avoid prolonged contact with others!

He is very good at juggling though

[laurfilijames]

Worst Way

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Mention of mutual masturbation/video call sex. Unprotected intercourse. Will in that polo shirt.

Summary: Will comes home from doing a stint of talks and his only priority is getting his fill of you, your time apart making him need you in the worst way.

A/N: I've been listening to this song on repeat and needed to write about it, and the character I felt that fit it the best was our Captain Miller. We'll consider this a little early birthday treat to myself, I was going to wait until Tuesday to post it but I'm too excited! A big thank you to @spaghettificationandpretzels for making me the beautiful banners to use!

---

In the grand scheme of things, five days was a blink compared to the amount of days he’d been away from you before, but as he drew closer to being home, Will’s impatience to get there was becoming nearly unbearable.

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, the leather feeling cool to his palm that was hot from his eagerness and holding it in the same spot for too long now, glancing at his watch on his wrist where he calculated he had exactly two hours and fifty-three minutes left until he would pull in the driveway.

Each day had been the same; driving from base to base all along the coast from Tampa to Houston, waking up in an uncomfortable motel bed he tried hard not to think about how many other people had laid in doing god knows what, and giving his memorized speech to a different room full of candidates considering signing on to be part of the Special Forces.

It was all automatic by now, having said the same words one hundred and ninety-two times, his mind able to drift off to what you were doing as he spoke without a second thought, wondering if you were making coffee in the kitchen wearing just his hoodie and your underwear, or if you were cleaning the house, feeling jealous of your fingers grazing over every surface and all the belongings that made up your home.

He imagined your smile; greeting the cashier warmly as you placed groceries onto the belt from the cart, grinning as you said thank you to the older gentleman who held the door open for you as you left the store, and knowing he was so close to seeing it for himself again kept him hanging on to get through each long day without you.

Late night video calls and texts sent between lectures helped carry him through, feeling grateful to at least have that compared to what little communication he would have when he was deployed, a crooked grin tugging his lip up as he thought to your last video call from the night before; both of you laying naked in your separate beds, touching yourselves in ways that were instructed by the other, the sounds of your moans brought on by your own hand still repeating in Will’s mind now.

He adjusted in his seat, his right foot pressing on the accelerator with slightly more pressure, the need to get home and have you increasing to a level he couldn’t tolerate anymore than he already had.

Rain started speckling on the windshield, a few drops at first before turning into a steady fall, the streams of it on the glass reminding him of all the showers you had solo in his absence, feeling envious of the water running down your skin and every curve, imagining you slipping into your bedsheets with drops still clinging to you and marking the cotton with darker spots.

Will wondered if it was raining at home, too, if you were sitting on the porch watching it pour, always loving the sound of the rolling thunder and the tapping of each drop on the roof, or if the skies were clear as the sun started to go down, picturing the pinkish-orange light casting on your skin to make it glow in its golden hour.

With a sigh, he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, accepting that no matter how much he continued to dream about you, it wouldn’t bring him any closer to home any faster, accepting that he had to live through each of these minutes in full until he was able to have his hands on you again.

With the sun now tucked behind the horizon and the ground saturated with water, Will slammed the door to his truck, leaving his bags in the back seat to get tomorrow, nothing more important than getting inside the house and getting his hands on you.

His boots ground against the wet pavement as he took purposeful strides to reach the front door, quickly inserting the key into the deadbolt and unlocking it, the smell of home and of you filling his nose as soon as he turned the handle and stepped inside.

Before he could close the door behind him, you walked around the corner from the hallway leading to your bedroom, your smile making his heart leap in his chest as you locked eyes with him.

You rushed into his arms, your body warm and soft, the feel of your hands carding up his back making goosebumps break out on his skin. You both peeled away from each other slightly, exchanging a look that spoke more than words could before crashing your lips together, a shared moan transferring between your mouths as the desperation you both felt finally set in.

Will kicked the door shut with his foot, making it slam so hard the walls shook, his hands tearing to get to your form that was covered by an oversized t-shirt and quickly discovering that was all you had on.

He growled against your lips, his hands squeezing your bare ass and spreading your cheeks slightly, feeling you press your hips forward into his in a silent request for more.

Your chest rubbed against his body, the tight fit of his polo allowing him to feel how hard your nipples were through both of your shirts, your arousal clearly having built up as much as his had in anticipation of his arrival.

He felt drunk with lust, his senses working primally as everything about you made him feral, your scent and touch breaking him down to be nothing more than a man who needed his woman in the most raw and cardinal way.

Will grabbed at the hem of your shirt and ripped it up and off of you, his hand gripping your jawline when he met you in another claiming kiss, hearing your breathy moan die out in his mouth.

He forced himself to stop, his chest heaving as he broke the seal of your lips, seeing yours already puffy from his beard chafing against them and wet from his kiss.

You looked heavenly standing before him; naked and stunning, equally as vulnerable as you were strong, your frame small in the shadow of his. But what made him feel powerful was the love and lust held in your eyes, your heavy gaze consenting for him to take you how he needed, knowing you craved him as much as he did you as you shifted on the spot you stood, squeezing your thighs together while arching your back so your chest stook out.

A crooked, half-smile dressed his lips as he took a step toward you again, backing you up against the wall and shoving his thigh between your legs, watching with complete satisfaction as you closed your eyes at the feel of your bare sex contacting the rough denim of his jeans.

He dipped his head and latched onto your neck, sucking and nipping at your tender skin, making you squirm against him and begin to ride his thigh, his hand slapping the painted drywall beside your head.

His fingers dug into the flesh on your hips with his other hand, clawing at you in a way he knew might leave bruises but that you also loved, aiding your movements on him as you ground back and forth.

“Will…” you whined, his name the only word uttered between you so far, the sound of it coming off your tongue so desperately in combination with how your hands clawed at his shoulders encouraging him to kiss your neck even more and press his leg up harder against your core.

His mouth traveled upward along your throat and under your chin, pulling your earlobe with his teeth before making his way back to your lips, growling when your hands ran over his straining cock in his jeans and then tugged at his shirt to untuck it from his waist.

He lifted his arms for you to whisk it over his head, returning to your mouth instantly while your soft hands smoothed over his bare chest, his skin feeling like it was lit on fire wherever your palms had laid.

You worked next on his belt, the sound of the metal clanking undone and then his zipper sliding open almost lost in the wet smack of your lips, your fingers sliding behind his back to pull his jeans along with his boxer-briefs down over his ass. They fell at his feet and he stepped out of them as quickly as he could, holding your face in his hands to try to keep you near him, but feeling you sink away from him as you dropped to your knees.

The look in your eyes as you stared up at him made his cock throb even more, and when you took it in your hand and stroked it while bringing your lips to the tip, he knew he couldn’t go a second longer without being inside you, having you take him in your mouth not even enough to sate his need.

Will knelt in front of you, grabbing your face again as he kissed you hard, leaning his body forward to guide you back to lay you down beneath him.

Spread out beautifully for him, he covered you, his cock finding your entrance without assistance, and with the slight movement of his hips, he pushed inside your wet hole and stretched you out.

Your cry was suffocated by his tongue, your back arching off the floor as you succumbed to his size, and Will allowed no time for you to adjust, pulling out of you before slamming back in again.

His thrusts were powerful and unbroken, determined to give you everything you needed while taking from you everything he could, his pleasure controlling all of him and blinding any restraint he had left.

You met him with equal fervor, rolling your hips with his with a similar goal in mind, chasing what only he could provide you, feeling you get wetter by the second and already soaking his dick and groin.

Will held onto you tight, nearing his end, his hands grabbing at any part of you he was able to keep you as close to him as he could while he hammered into you, your cunt clenching around him in a way he knew that signalled you were about to come apart too.

Your nails scratched his back wildly, muscles tensing and straining in both of your bodies as you rode through your climaxes, Will continuing to pump in and out of you frantically as he coated your walls and filled you completely.

Feeling you contract around him again, he didn’t relent, fucking you more with all he had left as a second orgasm took hold of you, the feel of his cum leaking out of you extending your high in the most addicting way.

His panting breaths filled your mouth as your kisses began to slow, feeling you relax under him as he settled his pace until he eventually stilled in you, his hand smoothing over your forehead where he looked at you smiling sweetly at him after he’d peeled his face away from yours.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he purred, finally giving you a proper greeting.

You giggled softly, your finger tracing the crease beside his mouth. “Welcome home, Will.”

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi

[zombieplaygrounds]

cw: virgin men, masturbation, sexual fantasies, implied age gaps, implied inexperienced sexual relationships, oral sex, masturbation, whats the thing where you get caught jerkin it? that.

Everyone loves virgin! Simon who's unknowingly a sex god while he bullies a fat cock into your horny cunt. Huffing and puffing in your ear as he asks you how good you feel, accidentally overstimulating you but far too clueless to even consider that your shaking and trembling is related to how dumb he fucked you. 'Course, he was just trying to be sweet to you, maybe get some coffee if you hadn't jumped on him for a good ride on his meat.

Even virgin! König had a considerable amount of attention for his monstrous cock that he'd never be able to fully fill you with. Too much of a jock-ish idiot to even know where to begin with foreplay, just rams his fingers up your cunt until you're sore and bucking your own hips against his palm to help smear your sloppy juices down his wrist. Every single "do you feel good?" is followed by your crying whines for him to shut the fuck up and keep stroking his own cock. Eyes wide watching pearl tears drizzle from the angry tip.

But where do I, the writer, draw the line? Virgin! Price. Old bastard aged like fine wine, his values held to something much more conservative - planned to spend his first time with a beautiful woman he dressed in pretty white silk on her wedding day. Someone who made his heart throb passionately; not with lust and the greedy desire to consume and ravage away her beauty.

Ideally, a woman to grow a family with.

Of course, considering his job, the risks his simple existence poses on any of those close to him - he cowered. Though, Price never really did see a true need to focus on that one, simple wish. He was satisfied with his 141, a group of rebellious young men he considered his own children; he was satisfied with his rare takes of leave, where he spent his time hiking and hunting, occasionally catching up with old friends from his civilian life; most importantly, Price was content.

Was.

A past tense term, considering his "ideals" of what made life so damn tolerable were thrown out the window. Shattered into billions of pieces that painted maps around the single coffee mug that was left on his desk one early morning. A note in your handwriting, with the coffee made just exactly as he liked it, and maybe even a small pastry from the vending machine - a pastry which was his favorite. Usually one that was hard to get because it was so damn good. And the note?

Have a good day, Cap'n! Love ya! btw, this is your favorite, yeah?

Fuck. You were too cruel. You and your pretty handwriting, smudged in blue gel pen ink. It was cute, sweet, endearing from a young thing like you. Made him feel sick and perverse, adjust the tightness that began around his crotch - because it felt so fucking dirty to be some turned on by a kind gesture. Especially a gesture from something as sweet and innocent looking as you.

All of those thoughts in his mind brought to a painful, stirring silence. Price would've almost felt shame for his next actions, the somehow graphic act of taking a huff of the sweetly scented drink made just for himself by you. The smearing of his finger tips against the note and getting a faint whiff of your sweet scented hand cream, the one you keep in the staff fridge, bitching at anyone who touches at it (something he was personally victim to).

The gentle, candied scent was enough to make his cock stir; rub against the rough fabric of his boxers, through his pants, through to his palm that somehow assisted in a slow, grinding motion against his self. His hand tilting backwards, eyes rolling back. Was the door locked? He wondered, not bothering to even give himself a glance at the knob to see if the slit was tilted horizontally or vertically; none of it mattered, too consumed by the peak edge he needed.

Too consumed by filthy, tainted thoughts of you. Your lips smeared in his own milk white sperm, no doubt still virile despite his years of maturity; wondered if his load would take if you just gave him the chance. Wondered if you'd pant, or moan his name. If your cunt dripped or creamed around his throbbing cock; what he'd kill to see your entire body trembling from a few bounces against him. Shove his calloused fingers into that pretty mouth of yours, begging you to be silent, and good.

You would be his first and final; a crossing thought that blurred past his mind. And the thought of putting a pretty jewel on that little ring finger of yours made him audibly gasp, sweat droplets splatter down from his cheek to his chin. And you, you're so young, full of potential. A real energetic pup that would probably eagerly teach him all the ways to make you feel good.

By now, Price was roughly, almost brutishly, fisting his own cock. Panting and hunched over the pretty note made by pretty you. His eyes squeezed shut as he bit into his fist, trembling at the splattering liquid that filled his palm. Droplets hitting the floor beneath him, a mess that would be so fucking frustrating to clean; the last thought on his mind.

Because how could he focus when you stood at the other side of the desk, a palm on either side as you leaned forward. So softly whispering: "Cap'n, did you like the coffee that much?"

Virgin! Price, who gives you the honor of being the first missus to wrap a warm mouth and plump lips against the tip of cock, kitten licks to clean away pearly beads of arousal that dribbled down the shaft. His clean hand rubbing your scalp so gently, humming soft, purring coos; mentally pondering your ring size as you greedily fit him inside your mouth. Whining vibrations fading the thought away once again.

tagging my fwends: @yandere-kokeshi @kettlemouse @babybimbo777

[witchofthesouls]

Hi!! I was wondering what Sarah and wills reaction to starscream and his trine would be in seeker fam au. Like individually and as a pair. How would the decepticon seekers react to Annabelle? It would be hilarious if it was just a get off my lawn situation but also I was wondering the deeper context in seeker culture too!

Out of both, Sarah is the more agitated Seeker because she already has Will as a bondmate and sparkling with a not-so-secured nest among mechs that she's trying to make sense of. Will likes the Autobots, she's still trying to come around them.

Sarah acts as an early warning system as she can sense sparks in a wide territory. She's the best alarm the base can get, and her alarm-screeching can wake up the dead. Plus, her own sigma ability is capable of scrambling non-sentient machinery along with Cybertronian signals. The Seeker in her doesn't like the newcomers since they're not flock, and it unconsciously picks up certain behavioral cues as they try to test potentially courting. It doesn't like that. At all. If the Command Trine weren't excellent and agile flyers, then she would literally ram them out of the sky because she wants a large amount of space and they're not listening.

Will is far more wary of them. He's curious because his own frame recognizes other Seeker mechs, but he's freshly bonded to Sarah with a sparkling-Annabelle between them. He recognizes that they're far more experienced flyers, so he'll rely on ambush attacks from his camouflage sigma ability to, at least, break their formation. Plus, the Seeker in him unconsciously understands the behavioral cues that the Decepticon Seekers are trying to challenge something from him, and it's misunderstanding as the right to be the primary sire to any of Sarah's heats. Of course, he's not going to tolerate it.

(Even Optimus is picking up something from the interactions but lacks the cultural context to fully understand it. Starscream is trying to convince the Lennoxes that he's the superior leader.)

It hasn't devolved into full dogfighting because Command Trine is being careful with handling it. Will and Sarah are a bonded pair with no other stable social ties, so killing one would completely destabilize the other and, unfortunately, take Annabelle with their deaths. Not a result they want, especially Sarah being the only healthy Seeker femme in several galaxies at this point.

Since there's a lot of air traffic, Sarah and Will typically combine during Energon expeditions since it's safer for traveling. Will's steadiness cools Sarah's newfound bloodthirst should other aerials get in her space, and Sarah is able to tap into Will's sigma ability to bypass any security measures as she follows the cues to where ever it is.

It takes the pair dozens of times to do it on purpose, but eventually, they get to it. Both consider it the most bizarre experience of their lives. It even tops waking up off the shore of Alaska as a different species.

Bottom line, it really amounts to the Decepticon Seekers trying to snare the healthy pair of new Seekers to their neighborhood, but the Lennoxes are suspicious of the meet up party and want to stay in their own house.

[viceroywrites]

monarch a trois drabble inspired by this early season gary smoking screenshot

gary could count on one hand the amount of times he's smoked a cigarette.

first was during his early days of being a henchman for the monarch. freshly turned 18 and wanting to fit in, he almost hacked up a lung after smoking it.

second was another time with the henchmen, wanting to look cool and badass after seeing brock smoke.

third was when 24 died. it probably would have become a consistent habit if it weren't for him moving back in with his mom who had zero tolerance for it.

fourth was tonight.

gary was having a bit of a quarter life crisis - realizing he has been living with the monarchs since he was in middle school. that his whole life was wrapped up in theirs. that as the years go by, how capable could he really be as a henchman?

while the trio's dynamic had shifted to a romantic relationship, gary couldn't help but feel insecure in his role in it all. even though he had entered an exclusive relationship with the two, the old feeling of worry began to rise to the surface - what if he was just an add on to their fun like he felt when he found out they were swingers.

an add on that could be replaced the moment they got bored.

out of fear, gary began searching for apartments.

maybe he needed to learn how to be out on his own again.

while him and malcolm were watching house of the dragon in the living room, malcolm had asked to borrow gary's phone to order takeout - leading him to see a text from a landlord asking gary when he would be able to tour the apartment.

needless to say, that interaction did not go well with gary attempting to explain himself but fumbling over his words and malcolm's emotions getting the best of him, storming off into him and sheila's bedroom and slamming the door.

gary's pleas through the door were met with silence and so he surrendered, making his way outside and bumming a cigarette from sheila's stash she kept in one of the drawers in the kitchen.

he sat on the porch steps, blowing a cloud of smoke into the cold air. a sleek black limo pulls up to the residence, a guild operative coming out of the front to open the door. sheila steps out, dressed in a black trenchcoat over her guild uniform. the sound of her heeled boots hit the concrete as she wishes the guild operative a good evening before turning her attention to gary.

her eyes widen at the sight of the cigarette nestled between his fingers, seeing the smoke pluming from it. "so you wanna tell me what happened tonight?" sheila sighed, taking a seat next to gary as she takes off her hat, flattening out the stray hairs that got messed up, "because i got a frantic text from the monarch saying you were leaving again."

gary groaned at the choice of words malcolm used, "he was using my phone to order take out and saw a text from a landlord asking when i wanted to tour an apartment."

sheila blinked in surprise at this new information, digesting it herself. no wonder malcolm was upset - he thought gary was abandoning them. "mind telling me why you were looking at apartments?"

gary paused, anxiety bubbling in his chest. if he expressed how he felt, would his worst fears be confirmed? he took a breath before looking over at sheila, "what am i to you guys? am i just another add on to you and the monarch's fun?"

sheila's hand reaches out to rest on gary's knee reassuringly, squeezing it firmly, "gary, where is this coming from? you're not just another person we swing with. i thought we made this very clear when we asked you to join our relationship."

gary sighs, his insecurities bubbling to the surface as he finally dumps all his emotions out there, "i don't know... i just feel my life has been all about you and the monarch and i don't hate it by any means.. but what if i lose my muscle as i get older? what if i stop being a good henchmen? then what good am i to you guys?"

sheila scoots closer to gary, "give me the cigarette, i need a smoke too." gary passes the stick over to her, watching as she takes a drag before blowing it away from gary's direction. "i know you think you're only around because you're useful to us but i speak for the both of us when i say that you're not just a number to us anymore. you're not just a henchman, you're our partner." sheila explains.

"but... i understand your concerns. you need a contingency plan just in case henching doesn't work out long term." sheila offers, "how about we start small? have you considered taking community college courses? i know you got your ged."

gary stares at sheila for a good minute before slapping his forehead, "god, of course. why didn't i think of that?' sheila gives a throaty chuckle, taking one last puff of the cigarette before passing it back to gary.

"you and the monarch both rush into action without a game plan, it's almost hilarious." sheila grins before pointing out, "i didn't know you smoked... never seen you pick up a cigarette in all these years."

"i only smoke when i'm super stressed about something." gary explains a hint of pink tinging his cheeks as he realized this was the first time sheila had seen him smoking. sheila leans over to press a kiss on gary's temple which ends up being poor timing as malcolm meanders out to the front in his robe, wondering where his wife is.

"pookums, where are you?" he whines before pausing at the sight, "you're supposed to be comforting me, not that traitor!"

gary winced at the choice of words and sheila smiled, rolling her eyes, "sweetie, calm down. gary's not leaving us, he's just had a lot on his mind that he wasn't sharing with us. we should all go inside to have a chat."

"fine.." malcolm mutters, still on the defense with his arms crossed.

his sharp eyes key into the cigarette in gary's fingers.

"you smoke too?!"

[acevid]

Do you have any xanvid headcanons !:3

sorry that this was two days late!! anyways, yes yes i do! i hope you'll enjoy reading them :)

!⠀♡⠀₊ xanvid⠀⠀ׁ⠀ꔛ

★ — xander has tried to cook for david before as a show of love but david took one bite and immediately told him to never do it again (his spice tolerance definitely does not go to xander-levels)

★ — oftentime it is xander getting flustered from david’s actions. there are occasions where xander is able to catch david off-guard, and he is happy about it for the rest of the day

★ — when david showed his true personality to the class, xander wasn’t exactly sure what to feel. they were awkward for a bit, until xander overheard david defending him. afterwards xander approached him and gave david a little ‘i don’t care how you act, we’re still friends!’ talk. (david was dying inside when xander called them just friends.)

★ — most people thought xander fell first, but no. xander had an idol-like admiration for david, then as they talked david fell for david. then xander shook off his admiration for david–only to realize he was gaining a crush on david

★ — david wakes up rather late. so whenever they stay in the same room to sleep, xander will wake up and just admire his boyfriend for a little before either waking the other up or going to start his morning routine

★ — david isn’t exactly much of a fan of holiday, but xander loves celebrating. so david puts up with the ridiculous amount of holiday cheer that xander has. (he absolutely refuses to listen to christmas music too early though, since it annoys him.)

★ — david is xander’s first relationship, since he hadn’t seen the want for a relationship before him. david has been in relationships before, but this one was the first he’s been serious about

★ — david often uses really bad nicknames for people (ironically) when he’s fighting with them. sometimes he’ll end up accidentally calling xander one of said nicknames and xander gets so flustered.

★ — whenever they get into a fight, xander takes some time to cool off before he goes to apologize to david. david likes to avoid the problem until xander approaches him, before going to the famed solution of “make up, make out”

★ — david doesn’t think of his future very often, so when xander talks about his future with david in it, he ends up getting slightly flustered. xander is somewhat oblivious to this

[merakiui]

step-brother riddle with a camgirl step-sister……. (and also the two of you hate each other! :) this is a crucial detail.)

you often stream when your parents and riddle are out of the house. sometimes riddle’s gone off to the library to study or he’s meeting up with trey and che’nya while your parents go out to a social gathering. the times in which you have the house to yourself are few and far between, as mama rosehearts hardly lets you do anything unless you give her specific details of where you intend to go and how long you’ll be there and what you’ll be doing. so when you are afforded alone time, you dedicate it to hours-long streams.

for the time being, you’ve made a decent amount of money posting lewd photos to your account, but it’s the streams that bring in the most money. your viewers are from all over. from the guy (floyd) who pays absurd amounts of donations and says the most vulgar things in your chat, starting fights when anyone says something he disagrees with, to the guy who types in all lowercase and gamer lingo (idia), you have your fair share of regulars, all of whom tune in for your rare streams.

no one’s found out about your secret side hobby yet. no one…except riddle. he comes home early from his outing with trey and che’nya, always determined to be back before his mother returns home so that it can appear as if he merely went to the library, studied, and returned home in time for dinner. and normally you’re able to plan around riddle’s annoyingly perfect schedules. this time, however, you fail to remember he mentioned he’d be going out with friends rather than studying; and somehow you fail to hear the door opening and closing downstairs while you’re up in your room, riding a monster dildo (a gift from a very generous viewer) in front of your webcam.

you and riddle have never gotten along. even when your parents married, the two of you tried (and failed) to tolerate one another and it didn’t work. so now you avoid each other when you can, opting to be cordial for courtesy’s sake if you happen to cross paths at home. so when riddle goes up to your room to deliver some macarons trey insisted he take home for you (trey’s too nice, riddle thinks; if it were up to him you wouldn’t get any sweets. >:p), he expects you to be reading a magazine or painting your nails or talking on the phone…whatever girls like you do, he doesn’t know! what he doesn’t expect is to walk in on you cumming around a big, thick dildo while you’re dressed in such inappropriate attire!! and what’s worse is that you’re broadcasting it to strangers online! have you no shame?!

that day riddle learns his step-sister has a very…unique hobby. it’s also the day he starts looking at you from a new angle. :) and it’s also the day his nrc peers who watch you learn riddle has a cute step-sister. >:)

[grapementos]

tipsy in love

aged up todoroki x reader

cw: alcohol, descriptions of a drunken state

despite how well todoroki had filled out from rigorous hero training following high school, his mass and lean build of muscle did nothing to help his alcohol tolerance. not only that, but he seldom drank and usually wound up behind the wheel following any gathering or night out.

basically, he got really, really drunk after the smallest amount of alcohol. he was your friend, so naturally you kept an eye on him but also recorded the dumb stuff he did.

you’d usually be the one to make sure he got home safe, cleaned up, and tucked into bed at an hour that wouldn’t have him completely incapacitated the next day.

you usually didn’t attend parties unless todoroki was there. sure, you had other friends from ua, but the vibe just wasn’t the same when you didn’t have todoroki to lounge with, pointing out and laughing about all the dumb things people did when they were totally wasted.

tonight, you were again seated next to todoroki, giggling together at kirishimas attempt at a one-handed handstand.

“he’s gonna bust his face, i bet,” you snorted, leaning your head back against the cushion of the couch.

“prolly.”

you looked over at him, quirking a brow at his fourth drink, “one of those nights, huh?”

luckily, you were sober and perfectly able to drive him home when this night ended the way you knew it would.

“yeah,” a smile snuck onto his lips as he took another sip, “g’na take care of me?”

you chuckled, dropping your head onto his shoulder, “i always do.”

his breath stuttered and you almost questioned it until kirishima lost his balance and fell to the floor, his foot catching the corner of the coffee table.

the two of you broke into a fit of laughter, stomachs aching and a small bit of beer spilling onto todoroki’s lap.

“oh, shit,” you sucked in a breath, wiping away a tear, “i know that hurt.”

kirishima’s groans of pain supported your statement, the rest of the partygoers nearly choking on their drinks from laughter.

“man, i spilled my drink,” he slurred out, looking down at the wet spot on his jeans.

“well, at least it was on your thigh. doesn’t look like pee.” you teased.

“m’gonna go get another.”

you checked the time—1:30 in the morning, aka way too late.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea. we should get you home,” you insisted, taking the empty bottle from his hand.

“noo..” he reached for the drink, “it’s still early.”

you walked away to toss the drink into the nearest trash can and then back to todoroki, “let’s go.”

he groaned, reluctantly stumbling to his feet. once he was up, he leaned into your side, nearly knocking you over.

with a bit of effort, the two of you were out the door and into the car, making the familiar journey to todoroki’s house.

-

“god, you gotta help me here, sho.” you grunted, helping him into a new pair of clothes.

he sat there lifelessly, eyes glaring yet unseeing into the ground.

you sighed, finally managing to get his clothes on, “alright, lay down.” you walked around the side of the bed, pulling out the duvet.

he scooted up and under the blanket, mumbling quietly as he settled.

“alright, i already have your advil and water on the nightstand. i’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“no..” he whined, reaching out to you.

“what? what’s wrong?”

“stay..” he drawled out, gripping onto your forearm, “sleep.”

you glanced to the side, unsure of how to handle the situation, “uh, i gotta get home, sho.”

“lay w’me..” he frowned, brows drawing right in frustration, “please.”

“okay, okay.” you gave in, flipping the light switch off before you joined him in bed, “better?”

he grinned dopily, throwing an arm around you, “mm.”

your entire face was aflame. never before had you ever cuddled todoroki, your best friend, the guy you told all your secrets to.

eventually, after you stayed completely still, his breathing evened out and you were quite sure he was asleep.

with a determined grunt, you slowly and carefully started to slip out of his grasp.

“y/n,” he pulled you in tighter, eyes blinking open to reveal that he was not, in fact, asleep, “don’t go.”

you sighed, dropping back down beside him, “okay, okay. i’m sorry.”

“want you to stay w’me.” he mumbled out, “forever.”

your heart was slamming in your chest, for you were impossibly close to him, completely able to smell the alcohol on his breath.

“i’m right here.”

“no, want you with me.” his eyes were more focused now, staring straight into yours, “mine.”

“i am, i’m your best friend.” you insisted, offering a small smile.

“i wanna love you.”

“i do love you, we’re always together.”

“i wanna kiss love you, cuddle love you. i wanna love you, love you.” he seemed a little more frustrated, as if he couldn’t say what he wanted to say, not properly at least.

“sho, you’re drunk.” you stammered out, doing your best to not make eye contact with him.

“maybe,” he breathed, eyes shining like you’d never seen before, “but i’d love you drunk, sober, asleep, awake, dead or alive. i’d love you no matter what.”

you gaped, matching his unwavering gaze. your entire body was aflame with emotion, all the way down to the tips of your toes. it was only then that you realized that you couldn’t see yourself with anyone else. you loved todoroki—even though you’d initially considered him a friend. you loved him more.

“i love you too.”

[queen-of-the-night-lights]

Different ( The Bad Batch x OC) Ch.2

A/N: HAPPY MAY 4th!!! I know this isn’t my most popular fic, but it brings me joy. I hope you all have a happy and safe Star Wars day and pleasant dreams of your comfort characters.

Warnings: Bullying, and mass disrespect.

Summary: After being caught by the Republic for attempting to steal from various senators Tessa is given a unique prison sentence. This leads to her being forced into various rotations throughout the GAR, but due to her personality not many of the clones like her. Now she has one last chance to prove she’s not difficult to work with, but the squad she is assigned to isn’t what she expected.

Ch.1

All too soon morning came and neither party was exactly thrilled about the situation. Tessa had gotten there earlier than anyone else did, which usually was frowned upon because many thought she would try to steal any information she could. So she called two guards informing them that she was coming early which then caused them to give her the usual speech of stay quiet and stay where the security cameras can see her. She always replied with a “ You guys are no fun.” Every single rotation and every single briefing she was told this, except for if the troopers liked her or found her tolerable.

After waiting ten minutes the troopers from Clone Force 99 came in. Tessa already was able to get a feel for them by the way they each walked in and what they looked like. The most obvious is that if she didn’t know better she wouldn’t think that they were Clones. She had read up about Jango Fett, the base of all the clones, and would have thought that these guys were related to him. Not as the cloned soldiers they were. She debated on whether or not to make eye contact with them. Usually when she tried with others they didn’t give it a second thought but she didn’t want them to feel like she was staring.

She then decided to look around at nothing in particular and then look at them every once in a while. She didn’t know why she felt nervous, she had met and fought with so many troopers that this shouldn’t be any different. Tessa got out her data pad and started looking over the specifics of the first mission to avoid her spiraling thoughts. Maybe they were and maybe they weren’t looking at her but she still felt as though their eyes were on her. Funny thing about being caught and held prisoner, you will always feel like you are being watched.

The boys didn’t quite know what to make of her, all they knew was what Tech told them and that she is rarely what she appears to be. Her physical appearance could tell them very little about her. This girl was tall not necessarily taller than all of them but definitely as tall or taller than the regs. She was curvy, not what one would expect from the typical solider of the GAR, but who were they to judge. Long, dark brown hair that easily could’ve been mistaken for black. It was free flowing showing that it was well past her shoulders, she must tie it up during missions because it most definitely would be a hassle. What surprised them was that she had these large round glasses that weren’t too different from Techs goggles.

The personality of this girl who was in front of them wasn’t someone you could read easily. It’s one thing to hear about traits whilst reading reports, but it’s another thing to experience a person face to face. She seemed nervous and spratict as she looked around the room and quickly back at them. When she started reading her nerves seemed to calm. They couldn’t believe that this was the person who was going to be flying them around to missions. There was an awkward amount of silence between them until someone entered the room.

General Kenobi and Commander Cody entered the room. The boys immediately stood at attention, Tessa did as well just slower. She let out a sigh as they were greeted and the boys were introduced to her and told her predicament. She hated this part, luckily General Kenobi was a good man and the way that he presented her did not sound cold and uncaring. He made it sound as if she was actually there of her own will helping. Even though it was far from the truth, but it was at least the thought that count. As he finished she gave a nod of acknowledgment. The one known as Hunter did the same, the large one gave a smile, and the other two just gave her a quick glance.

The one with the gray hair was the easiest for her to read. He didn’t want to be there, he didn’t like this situation, and so far he definitely wasn’t going to like her regardless of the fact they haven’t truly spoken to each other yet. This let Tessa know that no matter what this was going to be a long rotation. People like him always made it harder for her to stay in her lane and follow the rules she was given. Not to say that she would do things on purpose to upset people, she just has an impulse problem when she’s upset.

Once the two men explained the first mission of her rotation it actually surprised her, it was an info grab and a destruction job. “ The facility is a new Sepratist model, so our schematics are incomplete. Once you get inside and past the outer layer, you’re on your own direction wise. Once you find their main computer get as many files as you can. That shouldn’t be too hard between Tessa and Tech.”Cody explained as you all looked at the man who was multitasking. Judging by the reflections in his goggles he was already looking at the blueprints, or the pieces of them. “ Once you have that I trust you boys can take care of the rest.” The larger one let out a chuckle. With the briefing now over they were dismissed that is all except the Sergeant.

She tried not to eavesdrop on the conversation as she headed out but couldn’t help it when she heard her name. “ I’m not saying this to put pressure on your squad or to put pressure on her.” Cody explained. “ Sir with all due respect we might not be the best squad to determine a persons life.” Hunter responded. “ She just… make sure she does what you need her to do and let me know immediately if something drastic happens. If this is to be her last few missions it would be a loss but an understandable one.”

“ LOSS!” Tessa shouted as she popped back in the room. “ Commander why did you decide to leave this information out! Especially if it concerns me!” Sighing and giving her a stern look Cody asked “ Where are the troops that were supposed to escort you?” She shook her head in anger and stomped back to her room. She didn’t care if she had her escorts or not or if she got in trouble for walking by herself. She felt like she was seeing red.

“ Tessa, stop!” Cody called after her. Finally catching up to her he stood in her path preventing her from walking away. “ Were you going to tell me?” She asked him. “ I was ordered not to.” He answered honestly. She rolled her eyes and sighed angrily as he continued “ I tried my best to hint at it yesterday.” “ You know how much I hate that. I hate when people don’t say what they mean! It’s confusing and I thought you were just reminding me of the rules. Not that I might actually be sent to prison after this rotation. That this is practically my last chance. You don’t think that is something you should’ve told me?! I thought we were at least… at least on the same page.” She said feeling defeated in her words.

They weren’t friends, she knew that. They couldn’t be, but she thought that Cody at least liked her. Maybe she was wrong. Deep down she knew that they were supposed to follow orders and that it was none of her business what he was told, but the principal of not telling her this information is what made her blood boil. “ I’m sorry.” Was all that Cody could say. Tessa then nodded as he placed a hand on her shoulder to guide her to where they could get her some escorts. The walk was quite as both were in thought after their argument.

Once her they found troopers to escort her while Cody went back to work, Tessa was quiet. No snarky remark that usually came from her, no teasing, nothing. She just walked to caf, acting like the prisoner she was supposed to be. They sat her down at her usual table, standing on either side, and she began to eat her tray that was already there. Her food didn’t seem appetizing at the moment, but she ate knowing she would need her strength. Tessa had a weird relationship with her nerves and food, most of the time she could out eat a bantha when she was upset. However there was the rare occasion like today where she would reluctantly eat.

The Bad Batch maneuvered themselves to their table as the finished getting their food in the caf. Luckily not many troopers were in there at the time, so any comments about them weren’t likely to be made. “ How long do we have until we have to go?” Wrecker said with his mouth full. “ Approximately 3 hours, 45 minutes, and 15 seconds.” Tech answered. “ Enough time for you to swallow your food before talking.” Crosshair sneared. Hunter ran a hand through the ends of his hair as he kept his thoughts to himself. He replayed his talk with Commander Cody in his head over and over again. This girls life was in their hands. Was she really that much trouble? He knew they were and he knew them breaking rules was way different than her breaking them, but still. The explanation of “ This may be her last rotation. She doesn’t know. She needs to figure out how to behave and be a good solider on her own. If she doesn’t do well with your squad, her sentence will be forced to change.” played in his mind.

He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but it did. He had only met this girl twice and barley introduced to her. Maybe it was the whole situation that caused him to feel like this, he needed to protect and worry about his brothers reaction to the slight change. They weren’t the most adaptable. “ Hey isn’t that the girl we’re workin’ with?” Wrecker asked pointing to the table behind them. The four looked over to see her slightly hunched over, her broad shoulders making her appear more spread out and her head in one of her hands. She was slowing pushing her food around making small designs as she ate. “ Why is she by herself?”

“ Wrecker she’s not like the rest of us. She probably has too.” Hunter explained to his brother. “ While there is no galactic law around it she most definitely would have similar ristrictuons that any prisoner would have. It’s surprising anyone else is aloud to be in her with her. Besides the troopers guarding her.” Tech explained. After a moment of thinking Wrecker stated “ I’m going to go sit with her.” “ What!?” The other three said in unison. He started to crumple up napkins around his spoon and Crosshair warned “ Whatever plan is going through that thick skull of yours needs to stop!” When Wrecker sets his mind on something there is almost no way you can stop him. He quickly threw his creation across the room and into the hall causing the trooper that were guarding her to leave.

“ We are going to go check that out do not leave and don’t move.” They ordered her. “ Where would I go?” She grumbled to herself. The batch kept their heads down and focused on their trays as the refs past them. When they were far enough Wrecker loudly whispered to his brothers “ My plan worked!” As he was about to stand Tech whispered “ Wrecker, you simply cannot just sit with her, there must be-“ “ Watch me.” He then stood up, tray in hand and walked over to Tessa’s table. Shaking his head Crosshair groaned “ He’s a dikut .”

Unwisely Tessa was not aware of her surroundings so she jump slightly when a large voice said “ Hi!” Her eyes widened in shock at the absolute unit of a man stood infront of her introduced himself “ I’m Wrecker. Guess we’re gonna be workin’ with ya.” As he sat down the table started to shift towards him as he steadied himself. “ Sorry.” He said as he noticed her reflexes quickly grabbed your full glass. “ It’s okay, but you can’t be here.” She said with a slight hurry in her tone. Scared that at any moment the trooper would come back. “ Why not?” He asked with a slight head tilt. Confused and caught of guard by the situation she responded “ I-I … I don’t know you just can’t.”

“ Well that’s dumb.” He said taking a bite of his food. She slowly dragged her tray back towards herself looking intently at it. Her long hair covered her face as her nerves worsened. She didn’t know if she or Wrecker would be in trouble if they had gotten caught. “ Why are you here? With me?” She asked him. “ You looked lonely. I know I wouldn’ like it if I had to sit by myself without my brothers.” Tessa looked up at him and melted at his sweet smile. It warmed her slightly hearing the sentiment, then the one she now knew and recognized as Hunter came up and said “ Wrecker you need to come back, I’m so sorry.” The last part being said to Tessa. “ No it’s okay, go.” Just then her guards came back.

“ Step away from the prisoner.” One said. “Or what?” Wrecker challenged. “ Or you will be removed from her by force. Now go back to where you were sitting.” Said the other. Taking a large stride towards them to appear even bigger than he was, Wrecker claimed “ Make me!” Hunter was about to jump in to try to ease the tension when all of a sudden he heard. “ Hey Wrecker.” The two brothers turned their heads towards Tessa as she spoke “ It’s alright, I’m fine. I’ll see you in a few hours okay?” There was this look of calm and understanding when she spoke. Wrecker nodded an “ Alright.” And Hunter walked next to him with a hand on his shoulder to comfort his brother. He understood that his intentions were good, but he also knew that it was a bad idea what he just did.

Tessa let out a deep breath as they walked away. She did not need a fight to be broken out because of her or involving her, especially right now. The two troopers had their blasters aimed at her. She knew they were always set to stun so having any clone aim their weapon at her became something she no longer feared. She looked between the two of them anc slowly sat back down.

When Hunter and Wrecker returned to the table Crosshair teased “ So how was she?” Wrecker sat down with a pout and said “ Cut it out Crosshair.” Not making eye contact with his brother. “ Wrecker, you must try to remember that she is not like us or the regs. The rules are very different for her.” Tech explained doing his best at comforting his brother. Hunter sat back down and rubbed his temple, and in that moment he and Tessa were thinking the same thing. This was going to be a very very long six missions.

[burnwater13]

“Grogu! Time to eat!” The Mandalorian called out for his son to join him. 

Din Djarin brought two dishes to the small table in the main room of the cabin. Generally, they used it for everything but eating. He used it as a work bench for weapons' maintenance, while Grogu sat there to watch vids (usually Diggle and Daggle) while sipping on a cup of soup. Today he wanted to have some father and son time and thought that they could eat together for a change.

He went back to the small cooking station to grab his container of  hot spices because Mandalorian food wasn't Mandalorian if it didn't set your mouth on fire. When he returned to the table he expected to see Grogu in his seat. But, Grogu wasn’t there.

Dank farrik!

It was too early in the day for games. Grogu knew that. 

Din walked over to the door and looked outside and Grogu was right there. Sitting on the porch. Sketching. 

“Hey, buddy, time to eat. Just put a rock on the papers to keep them from blowing away.” 

Din turned to reenter the cabin when Grogu chirped a response to him. Uff. The Mandalorian grumbled. He turned back to Grogu.

“Okay, buddy, five minutes. You know you don’t like the pog soup cold.” 

Instead of going back into the cabin, Din stood there and watched what Grogu was doing. He liked that his son was happy to sketch and color. It was quiet work, most of the time, and it kept Grogu occupied when Din had more pressing work to attend to, like polishing his armor. Beskar was strong and durable but it didn’t clean itself or keep its circuits connected on its own. 

He noticed when Grogu looked up at him and frowned and Din began to laugh. Grogu hated being watched while he did work that he thought was important. Whether he was color…sketching, practicing map reading, practicing his Force skills, or doing something else that required focus and patience, if the Mandalorian looked over his shoulder, which was hard not to do, Grogu would look up at him and frown. It was just a routine now. 

“Buddy, what are you color... sketching? Can I take a look?” Din asked, dropping down to one knee to get a better look at the pictures Grogu wasn’t currently working on.

 It looked like Grogu was sketching the various critters he’d met during their adventures. It was hard not to smile at that. The sketches covered the smallest to the largest critters, with the Krayt dragon being the last one completed. 

He turned a little to see what Grogu was working on at that moment and saw a number of Tuskens with their massiffs walking through the canyons of Tatooine. Din Djarin was impressed. The amount of detail, the number of figures, and how they were arranged, made the Mandalorian bounty hunter chuckle. How had Grogu remembered all that without vids or scans? He had no idea. The bounty hunter didn’t remember what he had for breakfast that morning.

Grogu chirped at him and Din turned to meet his son’s gaze. Grogu was smiling broadly and began to explain in detail where and when the actions depicted took place. 

“I know buddy. I was there too. Massiffs are good critters.” Din commented.

Grogu coo’d at him. 

“What do I think their names were? I don’t know. I don’t think any of us asked the Tuskens about that.”

Grogu huffed at his dad and coo’d again.

“Oh, sorry. What would I name a massiff if we had one as a pet? Huh. I don’t know. What name would you use?” 

Din thought he knew where this was leading. 

Grogu had been wanting a massiff as a pet for a long time. Essentially for as long a time as when they first met them on Tatooine. It was a nice idea but Grogu was supposed to go back to his kind and it didn’t make sense to get him a critter only to have no one to share it with once Grogu was with his people. 

After they were back together, well, the N-1 starfighter was barely big enough for Grogu to sit on his lap. A massiff wouldn’t be able to tolerate being confined like that and he didn’t think he and Grogu would find that pleasant either. 

Grogu began to rattle off names and the Mandalorian held up his hand to get him to slow down. 

“Buddy, how about we make a list and then let our friends help us decide?”

Grogu nodded his head and smiled so broadly that Din could see all of his teeth. That’s when the Mandalorian noticed that Grogu must have been snacking on frogs while he was out there coloring. No wonder he wasn’t hungry for pog soup. 

[sergeantgoggles]

Title: Morning Caf Ship: Hunetch [Hunter/Tech] Rated: T Summary: Routines are sort of important to Tech, and this one has definitely become one that he can't start his day without. Warnings: Fluff and mentions of sex.

For @black-raine

Every morning it’s the same routine.

Tech is the first awake of the two of them. He stretches, climbs over Hunter in the shared bunk, and pads out into the galley to start caff for the ship. About fifteen minutes later, just like clockwork, Hunter’s arms slide around his waist and his chin, usually rough with stubble, scrapes his shoulder as he leans around for a kiss.

“Morning, handsome,” Hunter drawls and buries his face in Tech’s neck. With a sharp inhale, Hunter breathes him in, a mix of morning and sex from the night before and hints of caf and honey. Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you that it’s Hunter’s favorite scent in the galaxy. He can’t start his day without it.

Despite Tech rolling his eyes, he leans into Hunter’s broad chest, soaking in the quiet hum of the Marauder before the others wake. Caf in hand, he closes his eyes with a small smile.

“Were you able to get an adequate amount of sleep?” He asks, and his voice is still rough from a good night’s rest. The scratch of Hunter’s stubble shifts as lips tenderly kiss his neck and then trail up his jaw, finally stopping at his cheek. Strong arms tighten around him. It is almost too much stimulation this early in the morning, but Tech tolerates it. After all, it has become so ingrained in their lives that not spending a morning with no mission without this feels wrong.

“Enough to get by,” Hunter answers with a hum. It’s then that Hunter will always reach for the second mug that Tech has set out, already filled with brew and just enough cream to make the liquid not black. “Have I told you that you’re the best?”

“Not today,” Tech smirks, “but I do so enjoy the reminder.”

Hunter chuckles and reaches for his caf, leaving one hand on Tech’s hip. “Well, then I guess I owe you, don’t I?”

He says nothing as he turns Tech and crowds him against the counter. Their noses brush and they share a sleepy smile before they press their lips together, chaste and innocent. “You’re the best, Tech. Love you.”

The words never failed to make Tech’s heart skip a beat. With all the research he’s done, Tech hasn’t been able to find a reason for it other than its Hunter, which isn’t a logical explanation at all, but it makes his lips curl upward into a soft smile and his stomach flutter.

“I love you, too,” he replies automatically, but he doesn’t mean it any less.

Hunter drops his hand to give his ass a playful squeeze, making Tech squeak. That…isn’t usually part of the routine, but it successfully makes him flush and playfully smack Hunter’s arm.

“Do not tease me,” Tech threatens.

“Or what?” Hunter challenges as he does it again. And again, Tech reaches to take a job at him, but he’s too slow this time, and Hunter steps out of the way with a smirk. “I’ll be at the console. Come see me when you figure it out and I might make it up to you.”

Tech rolls his eyes, and he watches Hunter’s retreating back, but he looks into his caf with a smile that is unguarded and warm. He’ll think of something eventually. For now, he’s content to continue the routine of setting out three more mugs and then making his way to sit at the small table to pick through info on his datapad.

[anime75]

Hay hay hay!! :D I got part three

______________________________________________________________

Ace’m

Story line,

Name: Y/n Takami

Age: 16-17

Hight: 5’8

Quirk: Wing Lava (WL for short)

Quirk definition: Large light blue wing’s (like their uncle) can turn wing’s into lava and manipulate other parts of the body (skin muscle) but can not add how much stronger they get. Can harden the lava and turn it into obsidian to use and turn it into like a cage, but it can still burn others.

Family: uncle (pro hero hawks)

~Now let’s get on with the story!~

Chapter three: Names?

Warnings: small amount of blood, violence, 

4:00 A.M three years later

You and Ojiro were about nine or ten now, you two had gotten up early to see the sunrise as always, and Keigo had gone on his normal morning patrol, you would go with him and he would drop you off at Ojiro's place. But after the sunrise was almost gone the two of you would always go find something to do. 

Sometimes when you two did this you would get in a bit of trouble with the bad groups of people that would roam around, you tended to get a little hurt when this happened so it was normal for you to have some bandaids with you. 

Your uncle did know about this, as much as he didnt like it he knew you could take care of yourself and even if you couldn't, he knew that Ojiro would be able to help you since you two were close friends… Today just so happened to be one of those days

9:54 A.M

The two of you were on your way to the park from the convenience store, and were having a casual conversation on whatever came to mind. You walked past a car that one of Ojiro’s nabours and really good friends used, but there was one of the bad groups from the area. They were trying to get into the car to either steal it or take stuff out of it. 

“HEY!!” you shouted toward the group of people. You started walking toward them with a slightly mad face. Ojiro tried to hold you back so you could do anything to provoke them. But sadly it was too late and you had gotten the attention of the group.

“What are feathers for brains?” One of the group members said to you making a comment about your quirk. This only made your blood boil more between them trying to take something that

 wasn't theirs, and commenting about how others looked rather than how they acted. 

“What did you just call me?!” You asked in alarm, Ojiro could practically see the gears turning in your head from that, so he tried calming you down.

“It’s ok Y/N, they didn’t mean it.” He tried to reassure you, but you didn’t listen. You stormed over to them, not even Ojiro could have stopped you, but you paused and covered your front side with one of your wings. And sure enough one of the group members had thrown a knife toward you as a warning, but their aim was off and it would have hit you in a more fatal spot if you hadn't used one of your wings to cover yourself. Of course it hurt but you were good at hiding things like that so you keep a straight face.

 The very little bit of reaction you had slightly scared the group of people thinking you didn’t have any pain tolerance especially at a young age. You gave them a look as if you were saying “back off.” in a way. The group of people scattered away like mice. You went back to walking with Ojiro like nothing had even happened. Ojiro hadn’t been very surprised by it considering that this kind of stuff happened often and he was used to it.

4:50 P.M

Later that day you two were walking back to Ojiro’s place so that your uncle could pick you up. Ojiro paused with a smile on his face. There was a small kitten in an alleyway the two of you were passing. He walked into the ally with you following closely behind. 

He picked up the small creature and pet it, his tail slightly wagging. The kitten was a small one about the size of Ojiro’s hand, it was black with a few orange spots and one white spot on its nose that resembled the shape of a circle. It was covered in dust and a bit of almost dried mud.

“We should keep him, I don’t see a mama cat anywhere.” He told you. You nodded with a smile.

“Yeah he looks like he could use a friend.” you commented with a small quiet laugh. 

Ojiro handed you the small kitten and looked around for anything that may help clean it off a bit until the two of you could get the kitten to Ojiro’s place to get it some better care. 

Your smile slightly faded and you perked your head up looking around. Just as you looked toward the back of the ally you got punched in the face. It was the group of people from earlier that day. You shook your head and handed Ojiro the kitten. Ojiro stood in shock not knowing what had happened.

“Back for revenge are we.” You mused, wiping off your lip that had a small amount of blood running down it. You had bit your lip when you got punched causing it to bleed. 

The group of people from before was only two people now, a boy and girl just a little older than you and Ojiro. The others may have gone home or something. The two people stared daggers at you facial expressions as if they were ready for a fight. You stood up lacking a fighting stance. You had learned from your uncle when he had decided to start training you how to fight and had told you “it’s better to have no fighting stance so people will underestimate you rather than knowing what you're gonna do next.” He had decided to train you because if you were gonna be related to a hero you were gonna need to know how to defend yourself, just in case something had happened and there was no one there to help you.

“Yes and we're here to make sure you can’t make us get caught next time.” The girl on the right said with venom laced in her tone.

“Yeah, you got the rest of our group get caught and thrown into the police station so they could deal with and think of what they would do to them for the other stuff we had done.” The boy on the left added. 

You sighed not knowing what they were gonna try doing or what else they were gonna say. The two people stood in a fighting stance.

“I Yuki and my brother Suki will get paid back for our friends.” The girl said.

You sighed again waiting for them to come at you. Ojiro Tried to get you to not fight them knowing that you could hurt them or they could hurt you.

“Come on Y/N you don’t need to fight them.” He commented on not wanting you to get hurt or the other people even if they had been mean.

“No Oji, I can do this. You know I can too.” you told him, a serious face on you no longer your normal smile. You took a deep breath and had almost no emotion on your face as you looked at Yuki and Suki. 

Suki smirked. “Awww, you called him Oji. that was cute, a nickname for your friend.” He said in a teasing tone. You glared at him for teasing you and your friend.

“Yeah I did, so what?” You asked him with a slightly frustrated tone 

“It’s just cute, that's all.” Yuki added. Yuki looked at Suki and they gave each other a look as if they knew what one another was thinking. They ran toward you as if they were about to attack. You still stood there with still no fighting stance. The two smirked and dogged you going for your friend. Your eyes slightly widened, you used your feathers from your wings and made sure that the two wouldn't be able to hurt Ojiro.

Ojiro had closed his eyes tight and turned around slightly to protect the kitten waiting for the worst, but it never came. He slowly opened his eyes and turned back around a little and saw the light blue of your feathers. He looked at you who had your arm up to control the feathers. 

Yuki and Suki looked at each other slightly confused, then back at you who had that same dangerous face as earlier. They were scared, yes but they were ready to fight. They charged back toward you and started fighting.

Ten minutes later

You had managed to take the two down, they were lying on the ground dazed and not very responsive between mumbles and slight movement. You were battered and bruised from them and their quirks, you had scratches and bruises, your clothes were now a little torn and dirty but you didn’t really care. You looked at yourself, then back at Ojiro. 

“You ok Oji?” You asked with a slightly worried tone. He looked at you in awe of what you had done, and nodded in response. 

“Yeah, I am and so is the kitten.” He told you. You walked over to him with your normal smile back even though it twitched a bit every time you moved too much.

5:20 P.M

 You and Ojiro had gotten back to his house and his Mum patched you up from your scrapes.

“Wow hun, this is the third time this week and it’s worse than the others.” She said with a slightly worried tone tinted in her words. You sighed.

“I know, I know. But you understand that I don't like it when people are mean or do bad things like that. And then they even came back later and tried to hurt Ojiro.” You replied trying to get her to leave it be.

Ojiro was in the other room waiting for you to get back so that the two of you could go to the roof to watch the sunset, and wait for your uncle to get back and you could go home. When you got into the living room where Ojiro was, you had some bandages and gauze on your arms and face, along with a big shirt that Ojiro’s Mum had lent you  until you could get your clothes washed, or go home and change.

The two of you went up to the roof and sat in silence with your guys' new kitten Uski, named that because of the people who had caused you trouble getting her home. Ojiro was the first one to break the silence.

“You know… I wanted to thank you.” You looked at him confused but didn’t say anything.

“For… you know, saving my but back there.” he added. You smiled softly.

“Yeah no problem, you know I always got your back.” you told him, Glad that he was just safe. The two of you sat there for a bit longer just looking at the sky and the sun that had started setting.

“I was thinking…I wanted to give you a nickname. Like the one you have for me.” Ojiro said with a smile now looking at you.

You smiled with a slightly teasing mentality. “Oh really?” you asked

“Yeah, I was thinking of something like Ace.” that had confused you.

“Ace?” you asked, purely confused as to what he was thinking.

“Yeah, The ace of spades represents strength and authority, but it also represents pain and death. All though you're not dead you get hurt alot and get into trouble with bad people” He explained to you. “So I was thinking that it kinda explained you.” He smiled. You looked at him and smiled back.

“You're right, it kinda does.” You laughed a bit at the thought.

“Well…How about it, Ace.” Ojiro asked you with a smile.

You nodded with a smile at your new profound nickname. After a while of you two talking about random things, your uncle landed on the roof to pick you up.

“Ready to go feather?” (that’s his nickname for you… Sorry if it was cringe.) He asked you. You nodded standing up and walking over to him. You paused.

“Wait, I need to say goodbye.” You said with a small laugh. You ran over to Ojiro and patted Uski’s head. “By Uski, By Oji.” You told them

“Bye Ace.” Ojiro told you. He made Uski wave his paw with his hand. You walked over to your uncle and the two of you flew away. 

“SoooOo?” Keigo asked you.

“What?” you asked him

“What was with the nickname that Ojiro had given you?” He asked with a slight smirk. You smiled and explained to him why Ojiro had given you that nickname. Keigo looked a little shocked but understood either way.

“That…Makes sense actually. You do get in trouble a lot.” He said with a slight laugh but a serious face. You looked at him and listened. “I’m honestly glad that was the meaning behind it. Because now you and others will know about you before they even get the chance to see why, because if they already know they will understand what they need to expect.” He finished.

The two of you got back to your apartment a little after the sun had set. You both ate dinner and chilled a bit before you went to bed.

[rainbownomja]

TW: Pet Illness and loss, in depth discussions of grief and chronic illness, and mentions of emotional abuse

Last Friday, September 8th, 2023, I had to say goodbye to Soup. 

Back in early June, he got an infection in his dew claw. That infection over the next two months and some change, got into the bone where antibiotics couldn’t reach it. By the time we did an X-Ray (two weeks ago), when he’d already gotten it cleaned and had been on multiple antibiotics three separate times, we found out that the infection had managed to severely damage the cat equivalent of his first knuckle and was working on the second.  The comparison of his paws was like night and day, even to an untrained eye like mine. 

The single treatment option became amputation, which as you can imagine was extremely expensive. But it wasn’t the cost that was the most important to me. It was whether or not I could provide the care that he would need post-op given my unstable health. And ultimately, I asked myself: do I want to take a chance on the possibility of giving him more time and hope that whatever goes wrong next isn’t worse, or do I want to make sure that, for the time he has left, he’s happy and in the least amount of pain possible? 

I am furious at the universe that I had to choose this for him. I know it was the most humane choice I could make, but I am still enraged by it. Because he deserved more happy times, and I deserved more time with him. 

The positive, out of that horrible choice, was that it was a choice. I knew it was coming. I was able to schedule it when his normal vet, who loved him and had been giving him the best possible care since I got him, was available. I was able to make sure that on his last night I slept in the room with him again, something I hadn’t done in over a month because we were in separate rooms (see: unstable health.) That night, I fell asleep with him curled up in my arms purring away like it was any other night. 

On Friday, he got to have an excessive amount of his favorite treats, his normal meals were no longer medical food that he only kinda tolerated, and I bought him chicken nuggets since he’d been eyeing mine for years without getting to have one. Although it turned out he wanted my fries more (and I was happy to share.) We were able to give him an anti-anxiety medication for the appointment so he wasn’t afraid. And a couple days prior I’d gone back to my apartment to get his bed and my quilt which he loved so that he was comfortable in a space that wasn’t his true home. Then, I brought his bed along with to the appointment so that he was as comfortable as possible there too.  

I have an honor code when it comes to my pets.  I will not cause them needless suffering for the sake of simply extending their lives, the quality of their life with me is more important to me than the quantity of time I have with them. And, if I am able, it is my job to be there with them all the way to the end, to calm them and so they know that they are not alone or abandoned, that it's gonna be okay. I want to be there so that they cross the rainbow bridge knowing without a doubt that they are so extremely loved. I never actually had to make end-of-life decisions in line with that honor code before Soup though. 

His vet had said some months back that the health of our relationship is also an important factor when making those decisions. Prior to separating my sleeping space from Soup, I was growing increasingly more frustrated. I was in extreme pain, exhausted down to my bones, and he was waking me up in the early hours of the morning every day with a non-stop stream of cries that often triggered panic attacks for me. I loved him so dearly, but I was also running on a spoon debt that just kept getting deeper and deeper, because it’d been this way for months on end. I was losing my temper with him and I hated it, no matter how short-lived that moment was. Because I knew he was in pain too, that I was quite literally his only source for comfort and getting his needs met. Because I knew that these outbursts would only damage our relationship if they kept happening. 

I didn’t know when I moved us from my apartment that he wouldn’t be coming home with me when I eventually returned. But I am grateful that I moved us when I did, so that my last month with him was not one filled with frustration and irritation.

Soup crossed the rainbow bridge curled up calmly in his bed which I had set in my lap, because he otherwise refused to stop pacing and lay in it. He went with his head propped on my arm as if we were simply going to bed like usual, and I pet him long past the moment he was gone. He went hearing how good he was, how loved he was, and that he did such a great job taking care of me. He knew how important he was to me and how much I cared about him, of that I am certain. 

I also have no doubts about the fact that he was not just loved by me. My queerplatonic partner had a story to tell and a picture with him from the times she’d stayed over and he visited her in the living room, which she shared with me that morning.

A friend that I’d forgotten to check in with for months, expressed how deeply sad Soup’s impending passing was to him when I finally did reach out again. He made me feel less alone, less like my world was once again turning entirely on its head while everything else remained the same.

One of my best friends, who I always trust to tell it like it is, continued to reinforce to me, every single time I got into my head, that I was a fantastic pet parent, that while it absolutely wasn’t fair, I was doing right by him and I always had.

Another best friend, spent our weekly hangout listening to me talk about Soup and provided me comfort and a safe space to cry in.

@its-a-me-an-idiot bought me a goddamn Polaroid camera from multiple states away so that I could have tangible pictures with Soup, which I didn’t know would matter so much to me, but now that I have them I am unbelievably grateful.

In telling this story I also have to say how spectacular the staff at my vet clinic are. Their jobs are not easy, and I know, because they told me, that they don’t often get told when they do well in someone’s eyes but pretty much always get told when they do poorly. Regardless, they are always kind to me, were always willing to roll with my talking in circles in both anxiety and ADHD ways, they laughed at my jokes, and it was always clear how much every single one of them cared about Soup.

I did not expect to become his sole owner, I adopted him with an ex-partner after all, and being that was frequently difficult. The period in which I was fighting to have, for lack of a better term, sole custody; When my abusive ex was removing me from vet records and changing appointments without my knowledge, and then put it on me to fix the mess he’d made when I called him out on it. When he fully just left town and forgot about Soup’s care entirely (thankfully, I did not.) When ultimately, after weeks of fighting and bullshit, I succeeded in remaining his owner and removing that ex from both of our lives entirely? All of that was a truly deep low point that, in some ways, hasn’t really let up. I have very few relationships with people who are local to me, most of my friends moved away after college, which meant then that I had very minimal in-person social interaction. 

There were times when Soup’s vet appointments, regardless of their outcome, were the highlight of my week because the staff at the clinic were simply willing to talk to me past what was necessary as a client. They did their best to lessen the financial burden on me as much as they were able to within the systems that they had. In the few days before and on the day of, every person that was able to took a moment out of their day to talk to me and/or give me a hug. I know that they are currently working on a card for me (and I’m working on one for them, but that parts a secret.) 

I know that I am not the only person, nor will I be the last, that they walk out to their car after an appointment like this.

One of my favorite veterinary assistants there literally sought me out when I came in on Wednesday to give me her condolences and a (perfect level of squeezy) hug. She was there to take me to the room with him and explained the pre-procedures with incredible compassion. She would pause and reinforce that it was normal and okay that I was crying which, as a person who despises and is very uncomfortable with crying in front of anyone ever, was extremely helpful to my efforts towards not bottling up my feelings. And she gave me two churus to give to him when he got back from the catheter placement, which I know he appreciated because he ate both of them in their entirety even though he was clearly a bit agitated. 

His veterinarian is a wonderful human, who asked me about my life and cared about the answers, who always patiently and thoroughly answered my questions (and often figured out the real question I was asking, sometimes when I didn’t even know myself, and would switch gears to answer that instead.) She is also a truly incredible veterinarian. She told me that Soup was an anomaly, even for cats with FIV. She was working against so many unknown co-occurring conditions and with limited information almost all the time. From the collapsed lung lobe that looked like it could be cancer on an X-Ray, to the hair ties in his stomach, and his REM sleep disorder which on its own is a pretty rare condition in cats.

My vet never gave me a recommendation just to get me out of the office so she could keep to her schedule (and I know I’ve gone at least thirty minutes over my appointment time often. Take notes human doctors.) I also know for a fact that she spent so much time researching his strange conditions, the best treatment options within my financial (or workarounds to that end), and the answers to my very specific (and therefore not normal) questions. She took time to talk to other vets and specialists to get second opinions and ideas when she didn’t quite know what the best move was. And she stayed with me and Soup the entire time on Friday. 

She reminisced with me, she asked about my shit ex (“We don’t like him right?”) and emphatically agreed with my “fuck that guy” sentiment when I explained the manipulative stunts he pulled. She walked me through what was happening with a calm that didn’t speak to detachment, but to care. And she told Soup how loved he was along with me, and in place of me when I couldn’t speak through tears. I could not have asked for a better vet for Soup, really and truly, and any other vet my future cats have will have a very high bar to reach. I honestly don’t have enough words to express just how much the work, care, and compassion of everyone at the vet clinic has meant to me.

A long time ago, probably here on Tumblr honestly, I read a post about the idea that maybe sunsets are the gods letting those who’ve passed paint the sky. On Friday it was cloudy all day, except for a short period after the appointment, when the sun peaked out and shined into my window. I like to believe that, once Soup had made it across the bridge and into the waiting arms of Maggie and Sasha and Winston (The Nomja Family Poker Team*), the first thing he did was get some cosmic entity to signal to me that he’d made it over okay. 

I think Soup took his mission as my cat with as much seriousness as I took my mission of being his furless mom. And I maintain that until the day I get another set of cats, he’s going to keep close watch over me. And when they arrive he’s going to give them the most important quest of their lives: to take care of me as well as I will take care of them, and took care of him. I don’t think he’s ever really going to stop watching out for me. I know he’s still cuddling me at night as his little ghost self even though I can’t see him. That is, when he’s not playing (and losing) poker with the Nomja family pets.

I miss him so much it hurts, sometimes quite literally. I know that in time it will stop hurting so very much. That someday, when the ball of grief hits the edges of its box, I will be able to look back on our relatively short time together with joy instead of heartache. 

The pain of losing him is the price that I would pay again and again for the privilege of getting to love him. And I will continue to love him for the rest of my life, even though he’s gone. 

To those who chose to read this unintentional essay, thank you. It feels like a lot, to basically have a eulogy for a cat, but I’ve decided I don’t care. He’s too important to me to not write about him.  So thank you for caring, even a little, about me and him too.

To the best emotional support cat a girl could’ve stumbled upon, Rest in Peace:

His Majesty, Sir Chicken Noodle Soup “Soupie” III, First and Last of his line June 4th, 2014 - September 8th, 2023

*When Maggie died I was 10 and based on that painting of dogs playing poker that that was what she was doing. Saying “Aces are wild” in a very specific tone has been a running joke in my family ever since even though I'm fairly certain that is not actually a thing in poker.

For his 9th birthday this year I got him a platypus kicker because I'd finally learned the name of that kind of toy. It never hit the status of his blue one (which was gifted to him by a family friend after his surgery back in February.) He used that one as a pillow more often than he played with it. But I was just so happy he'd made it to 9 all things considered that I didn't care I just wanted to get him a present.

[jacenbren]

More wwv!Velvet rambles for the metaphorical class?

Some weird little quirks Velvet has because of his enhancements:

Terrifying math skills. Thanks to a microprocessor built into his brain, Velvet can carry out calculations in his head that most people wouldn’t be able to do on paper. He likes to cheerfully tell people the odds in bad situations. No One Likes It.

Weirdly low body temperature, to keep his internal systems from overheating. He’s been mistaken for a Wither sickness victim a few times (one of the early symptoms is a sudden drop in core temperature) and once Bad had to drive three hours to come pick Velvet up after he was literally thrown out of a town who thought he was contagious.

Extremely high pain tolerance (read: the dartboard incident in Where Is Your Rider)

A Staring ProblemTM from his ocular modifications. His tear ducts were replaced with a passive lubrication system and a transparent second set of eyelids were built into his head, so Velvet usually doesn’t unconsciously blink like a normal person. It leads to some uncomfortable staring contests.

Because of the computers in his brain, he’s constantly thinking several times faster than a normal person, so Velvet tends to a) have his moods change on a dime, b) cut people off in conversation a lot, and c) act a bit condescending. Yes he has gotten into multiple bar fights. Yes he won. Yes his opponents have broken bones. Yes Ant had to bail him out after the entire bar rioted.

Velvet thinks more like a computer than a person, so he’s incredibly intelligent, but not always in a practical way. Sure, his solution to a problem technically works VERY well, but will it injure both himself and everyone in a ten meter radius? Most likely.

Scary fast reflexes. Whenever Velvet catches a thrown object in a fight (a knife, an arrow, etc) and throws it back, Ant has to resist the urge to grab him and make out with him right there.

A nigh-photographic memory. The irony of him barely being able to remember any of his past does not escape Velvet, but he can and will hold a grudge until he dies.

Magnets stick to him. Gumi makes a game out of seeing how many she can get to stay on his face if he falls asleep in the lounge. Too many, however, mess with his circuits and have a similar effect on him as large amounts of alcohol, so if you try to stick a magnet to him and he catches you you WILL end up with a screwdriver up your ass

His running speed is unsettlingly fast. That doesn’t sound scary until he catches you trying to stick a magnet to his forehead and then you’re being chased by five feet eleven inches of deeply unstable homosexuality and chalupa fueled rage comes after you with a pipe wrench.

Velvet can hold his breath for up to nine minutes. Yes he uses this to passive aggressively sit at the bottom of the river in the Commune if Bad is annoying him.

Also sorry about the Wormwoodverse content drought my brain is currently hyperfixating on game of thrones hhfhggghggghhhh

[natsunoomoi]

It was clearly stated both in the manga and anime that kuwabara doesn't know about hiei and yukina being siblings and the gang will never tell him even on his death bed because kuwabara hates hiei so he wouldn't be able to live with idea of hiei being yukina's brother, right ? but seriously I do think kuwabara deserves to know since he and yukina are going to be together in the future, yeah he won't be cool about the hiei yukina situation but if yukina is happy with having hiei as her brother, kuwabara will tolerate hiei for yukina's sake and eventually start addressing him as aniki. Btw hiei hating kuwabara is my main reason for not shipping kuwayuki too.

XD Okay, cool. I thought I remembered that, but for a moment I thought that was a fever dream or something. It's been 30 years.

I don't know if hate is the operative word. Like early on that probably was the case where they really didn't like each other, but especially after the Sensui arc they all come away with a kind of tolerance and respect although Hiei still pushes his buttons, which I personally enjoy because same feeling, but Hiei tends to regard him by then as somewhat useful sometimes and there are times when Kuwabara shows some amount of caring for a fellow team mate/person in the same situation. You don't come out of that with another person with genuine hate. You can still not get along, but that's not hatred anymore.

But yeah, he does deserve to know at some point. I feel like everyone will cross that bridge if and when he actually gets around to proposing because then it's real for everyone and no one can deny it anymore. Hiei will have to even acknowledge that Yukina has feelings and then because of the practicalities of the relationship and any future children, they will have to sit Kuwabara aside and give him the lowdown. Especially the version of him at the end of the series that had gone through university and everything, but basically everyone would have matured enough that the situation would probably work itself out by then. Probably some awkward family moments, but it'll work out.

[astaldis]

No. 7 Radio Silence

@whumptober-archive

Fandom: The Witcher TV (Season 3)

Whumpee: Cahir

Words: 29,782 Chapters: 11/11

Chapter 11 of Friends:

Then Cahir is alone. Well, not really alone. There are more than a score elves in the camp now with new arrivals joining every day. Soon, they will form commandos and start attacking convoys again. Although he has become an expert at raiding caravans over the last couple of months, with his bad hand and shoulder he will not be able to help them, at least not yet. Fringilla would be furious if he tried. However, staying idle and living at the Scoia'taels' expense without contributing is not how Cahir wishes to spend the next two or three weeks. He would soon die of sheer boredom. Luckily, there are a few things he is good at besides fighting. Fishing for one. He knows how to knock up a fishing rod from virtually nothing to catch trout and crayfish with it, even the occasional pike. It is perhaps the single one activity he enjoys despite it requiring a considerable amount of patience. While living in the woods after Emhyr had kicked him out of the palace, going fishing was - aside from hunting - what he spent most of his time with whenever there was no convoy to attack. And then, there were the mushrooms. He has become quite good at telling the edible from the poisonous ones, another useful survival skill in a forest. Fringilla cannot be opposed to him venturing out into the woods to collect fungi, can she? Like fishing, it is neither particularly strenuous nor dangerous. He can still take it easy as ordered, and it will keep him busy. And out of the elves' hair. They might prefer having the camp to themselves most of the time and not share it with a hated Dh'oine.

So, Cahir spends most of his time by the river or searching for summer oyster mushrooms, different kinds of early boletes and other fungi when he is not resting or sleeping. The days pass. The weather is unusually warm and dry for the north. Nothing much happens. It is not the worst way of life. Actually, it could be quite enjoyable if he did not miss Fringilla so much. Especially when he is having his usual nightmares, but not only then. The hut feels awfully empty without her. It would be nice to have somebody to talk to once in a while, too. Cahir is not the chatty type and used to being on his own. Still, having a friend to share his thoughts with, even his fears and sorrows, felt good. Now this friend is hundreds of kilometres away on a dangerous quest while the elves - understandably - want as little to do with him as possible. Besides the occasional furtive glance, a curt nod and a grunt when he brings his catch of the day, it is as if he did not exist. A mere ghost tolerated at their table, nothing more. They are not openly hostile, though, and he manages. Slowly, he is getting better, too. Physical activities are a lot less exhausting and, after some days, Cahir can move his injured shoulder without it causing him much pain. The cut on his left palm has left an ugly scar, but it seems his middle finger is gaining back both its sensitivity and motility. The other two fingers not so much. Well, three functional fingers are always better than two, even though it will not be enough to shoot a bow, not if he wants the arrow to hit the mark. If he had a sword, Cahir would start to exercise a bit, however, he does not. His blade is, most probably, rusting away in the grass on the cliffs of Thanedd Island. He cannot ask the Scoia'tael for a sword, either, they hardly have sufficient weapons for themselves. They would not want to waste one on him.

More than two weeks go by like this and Cahir grows increasingly restless. There has not been any news from Nilfgaard. Fringilla promised to come back for him or at least contact him somehow, and Francesca would not leave the Scoia'tael in the dark about what is going on either, would she? Mages always find a way to communicate if they wish to do so. Even if his friend cannot portal all the way across the continent just to ask how he is doing, he should have heard from her by now. Is he perhaps too impatient again? But what if Fringilla's plan was thwarted, if they were found out? What if Emhyr had the two sorceresses arrested? Or, even worse, executed? The thought that something might have happened to Fringilla is too horrible. She cannot, must not be dead. Is it possible that she has forgotten about him again? No, Fringilla would not do that, would she? But why is there no message, no anything? The uncertainty is hard to bear, and with every passing day it is growing harder.

Read the complete story on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49262185