#wasn't planning on doing any of these originally but i couldn't resist some of the prompts

[akutasoda]

all for you

synopsis - they'll always love you so dearly

includes - mydei, anaxagoras, phainon

warnings - gn!reader, maybe ooc, fluff, slight crack, wc - 1.5k

a/n: what is this? i couldn't tell you- at best it's a silly little piece i thought of the other day ;;

mydei ★↷

mydei stared you down with a scowl.

all you could do was ignore his scowling and continue on with your task, which was easier said than done as even after all this time, mydei still had a glare that still could affect you - at most it gave you a slightly discomfited feeling but you could always dismiss it.

it wasn't uncommon knowledge that mydei often put himself in uncertain situations, always with a confidence that made it seem like nothing to him. whether that was a result of his own curse or the years of experience he had with those same scenarios was an equal guess.

regardless of which, namely the former, mydei occasionally faced some particularly tricky situations which would result in your worrying.

it was hard not to, even if you were well aware of his curse, the idea of him getting hurt was still enough to bubble some concerns of yours to the surface. mydei always insisted he was fine but that was never enough to soothe your worries.

you continued to make an effort to check for any outstanding injuries that he still may have sustained, none of any potentials would've been fatal but you still wanted to make sure there was absolutely nothing.

if anything, it was almost routine at this point. mydei would get into some kind of altercation and immediately seek you out afterwards. no matter how much he acted like it was a bother or claimed it was unnecessary, he always sought out comfort in your embrace, entrusting you with seeing him at his lowest.

“you worry about me too much” mydei's scowl barely wavered, his eyes still constantly looking at you and only you

you fought back a scoff, “if you're aware then you should watch that heedlessness of yours”

mydei studied your face, taking note on the seriousness you portrayed. he'd be lying if he didn't think your concern for him was endearing, even throughout the constant reminders to you, he found it somewhat charming that you still bothered to care for him in that sense.

there was a few moments of silence before mydei broke the standoff. it was his turn to scoff at you as he abruptly pulled you into a hug with little resistance on your end, “fine, but no promises”

you knew that was the best that you would get from him in words.

anaxagoras ★↷

a long sigh was drawn out from you as your eyes flicked over to observe what anaxagoras was doing - it didn't shock you to see that he was doing exactly the same as what he was doing the last time you checked.

you couldn't exactly recall how long it had been since you'd idly sat beside him. originally your plan was to simply pay anaxagoras a visit as you were passing by, but while you dropped by he had informed you that he was finishing up soon so he'd leave with you. so you saw no harm in complying and waiting around for him.

although, looking back, you realise how foolish of a decision it was. whether it was anaxagoras having a different concept of what “soon” meant, or it was a case of him getting too engrossed back into his work, you weren't too sure. but whatever it was, it was now the cause of your boredom as you waited.

you'd waited too long for him by now to simply turn away and leave without him - you'd made a much earlier attempt but anaxagoras had stopped you, reassuring you he'd be finished some time soon, another case where more insistence on your end would've saved you from waiting longer.

in complete honesty, you never understood anaxagoras.

he always struck as the type of person who much preferred his own company rather than others and it certainly stood true in quite a few cases. anaxagoras also always made it very clear that he had little tolerance for those who held little competence and broke the rules he always went on about.

perhaps it was the fact that you never broke any of those rules that was the reason why he didn't mind you hanging around.

“if you have time to stare, then you have time to talk” anaxagoras's voice snapped you out your daze “speak what's on your mind”

it took a moment to formulate a response on your end after being abruptly caught off guard, although all you managed to get across was a short response claiming it was nothing major - something that was met by a glower on the scholar's end.

anaxagoras soon followed up by announcing that he was finally finished, making a vague signal for the two of you to leave and you joined him. you filled the spot beside him but for some reason, your previous train of thought was still occupying your mind.

after a brief moment you decided there was no harm in asking, which led to you poising the question about why he insisted on you waiting around for him.

he paused for a moment, looking over to you and stopping in his tracks, something you mimicked in turn,

“that's because you're more favourable to me, a preferable appearance in my life”

you looked at him in disbelief, while it certainly was a conclusion that you did entertain on occasion, the idea that anaxagoras did see you as a potential friend, but you always assumed that was too far fetched so being an acquaintance of his was enough for you.

he looked at you, a quizzical almost judgemental look reflected upon his features,

“i thought it was common knowledge for you”

all you could do was stare vacantly at him still, his words still barely processing in your mind as you watched him leave - the rare, sincere smile that fixed its way onto his face going completely unnoticed by anyone.

phainon ★↷

you'd been assisting aglaea throughout the day, a few jobs here and then that needed to be done but nothing too major.

more frequently as the day progressed however, you caught aglaea stopping occasionally, almost as if she was checking for something but anytime you asked if everything was alright she would brush it off and continue on as normal.

you believed her at first as you had no reason to doubt her but soon you found yourself feeling a pair of eyes on you sometimes, coinciding with aglaea stopping in her duties. it happened too frequently to be a pure coincidence but you still attempted to brush it off as you doubted it was anything of concern considering how aglaea kept brushing it off as well.

but eventually you caught her smiling a bit, a smile that felt more knowing than you would've liked - almost as if she knew something you didn't.

you soon observed aglaea delighting in your apparent obliviousness as she began making audible comments to you ranging from “did you see that?” to “do you really have no clue?”

in some sense, it was starting to creep you out as each time left you more questions and unease than answers. thankfully, eventually, aglaea decided to ease your worries with the next time she sensed it, she stopped and so did you, aglaea moved closer to you before talking in a hush,

“he's looking at you again”

arguably that creeped you out more but your gaze followed the direction she was pointing in and suddenly it all became clear again.

not too far from where you were, phainon was watching you. as soon as you locked eyes with him, phainon gave you a sincere smile and waved quickly before looking away and walking off.

you looked back to aglaea, “has he been doing that the whole time i've been with you?”

she hummed slightly in agreement, “most likely, he probably just wants to check up on you without interrupting” aglaea paused for a moment, “besides he has his own tasks to attend too”

you looked back to where he was a moment ago, the spot now vacant, now you were determined to catch him again.

a task that proved to be rather easy now that you knew what was going on as not too long after you caught him again, phainon then giving the same response as before before disappearing again. in a way it was sweet, the idea that he was watching to make sure everything was okay with you and presumably wanting to see you throughout the day without interfering.

after all, phainon always cherished being by your side, complete infatuated with your presence.

additionally it became very clear that phainon was mainly doing so because he clearly missed your presence, which was confirmed from the moment you departed from aglaea for the day and phainon took the moment to show up again. taking your hand in his with the biggest smile he'd shown all day.

[mercurial-chuckles]

Oop, Steve’s pulling up to the scene! What mess does he have to get you out of this time?🤨

Oh, Essie! Thanks a ton for sending me this @bigtreefest. You've definitely tickled my pickle, and I wrote some Alpha Steve. Hope you fancy him! Fair warning, though, I haven't written much A/B/O and am just dipping my feet. Please bear with me! :D

****

SUBDUE

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!f!Reader Warnings: Language | Omegaverse | Minors DNI | Super soldier strength display | Hot Rogers on motorbike | Horrible misogynistic dude alert | Posessive, territorial, I'll show you your place kinda Steve | Snap you if you touch her kinda Steve | Allusions to spanking & boinking | Fluff | Lemme know if I'm missing anything. Word Count: 2k A/N: This is also my entry for Stevie BB’s 200 Followers Celebration. Mel, this wasn't the Alpha fic I originally planned to post for your challenge. I had something entirely different in mind! But then Essie sent me this absolutely awesome ask, and I couldn't resist. My fingers tapped the keyboard relentlessly...and this happened. :D Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! GIF credits to @karolinadeaen Divider credits to @buck-star Thank you :) Also, this fic is unedited. I will edit as soon as I can. Check out my other works: Masterlist

Indulge Away!

"I need you to fucking comply," his nasty grip tightened on your wrist.

Fuck, that hurts.

"Ouch! Let go," you grumbled. "I. AM. COMPLYING." You gritted the words out.

What a piece of shit!

"Is that any way to talk to an alpha, hmm? Tut tut... You ought to be taught some manners." His grip on your forearm tightened, surely leaving bruises.

Well, he needs to be taught manners. Bloody entitled asshole!

It was probably the fact that you were an omega that bruised his ego more than that punch on his nose you gave him earlier. Though, it wasn't really your fault. The conceited bastard had been misbehaving with the waitress, and how were you supposed to know this stupid shit was a cop?

Basically, you fucked up. And now you were handcuffed outside the diner when you could have been home in your man's arms and filling your tummy with food. You don't regret beating the guy. Of course not. You regret stopping after punching him only once.

He cleared out the crowd from the diner who had come to intervene. The poor omega looked shaken. You assured her it was okay with a nod. She gave you a worried look before heading inside.

His closeness was repulsive, and you held yourself from dry-heaving at his scent. And you tried your best to dodge him, but the guy was huge.

You realized he had no intention of taking you to the precinct. He hadn't even called for backup and had likely turned off the bodycam on his cop jacket. You rolled your eyes at his little performance to scare you, which he clearly didn't appreciate. In response, he hurled insults at you instead.

When you demanded to make a call, he refused. He must have seen the mating mark on you and was probably trying to avoid an altercation with your alpha. Oh, you were praying to see him try fighting your man.

If only he knew.

He kept humiliating you by saying that omegas like you shouldn't be let out and should be locked at home. You could take another swing at him if you weren't handcuffed. Kicking him in the nuts was still an option.

Fucking misogynistic cowardly pig!

When he leaned in too close, sniffing at your hair, you stomped on his foot as hard as you could.

"You bitch!" he tugged at your hair painfully, baring your neck. Your heart thundered, and you gasped for breath.

And then you heard it. The low rumble of a motorcycle engine, distinct and unmistakable, grew louder as it approached. Relief flooded your chest like a tsunami, even as you tried to suppress a shiver of anticipation.

The bike skidded to a halt not far from where you were standing. The officer stilled, his posture instinctively stiffening, and he left your neck, turning towards the sound.

You coughed, trying hard to steady your breath. The pleasant smell of your alpha wafted over to you, calming you.

Steve must have gone crazy when you hadn't returned home after stopping to pick up the dinner on your way home from work. And for once, you were grateful for Steve's overly protective instincts.

Steve swung off the bike, and dear heavens, he was livid. His blue eyes locked onto you immediately, darkening as they took in the scene. The anger radiating from him was hard to miss. The guy before you trembled visibly and took a step back. The realization that your mate was none other than Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, was dawning on him and plunging him into a doom of distress.

In two long strides, Steve was standing before you.

"She assaulted me..." the asshole started.

The absolute nerve!

"He was misbehaving with that poor girl, and I just defended her," you interjected sharply, your annoyance with the whole situation bubbling over.

"Uncuff her," Steve's voice was calm, too calm, and it would have scared you if you weren't his and he wasn't yours.

The guy, apparently too stupid to read the room, spoke up. "She assaulted an officer of the law. She needs to..."

Steve cut him off with a growl so low it made the hair on the back of your neck stand, and it stirred other, much more primal things deep within you. His gaze swept over you briefly before turning back to the guy and sized him up for a second, intimidating him, shutting any more thoughts surfacing through the guy's drain hole of a mouth.

It was deeply satisfying to see the asshole shudder, especially knowing that Steve hadn't already flattened him into the ground. But you knew him well enough and knew that Steve was already plotting the guy's demise.

Steve picked up your hands gently, never breaking his gaze from the dumb twit. His one hand rested on your back; his touch was soothing you, grounding you, and before you could even wonder what he was doing, you heard the metallic snap of the handcuffs releasing.

You weren't entirely surprised because you were well aware of his super-soldier strength. If given the chance, he would have snapped the cuffs from your wrists the moment he walked in. But you knew he hesitated, mindful of the possibility of hurting you in the process.

The guy before you gasped, witnessing Steve tear down the center of the cuffs with a flick of his wrist.

Steve turned his icy stare on the guy. "Unlock them," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. The officer hesitated, clearly fearful of stepping anywhere near you. You bit your lip hard to keep yourself from laughing.

"Now," Steve repeated, his tone dropping dangerously low.

The officer fumbled nervously with the key, clearly unsettled, but before he could act further, Steve snatched the keys from his hand and unlocked the cuffs himself.

Disregarding the keys, he tossed them aside and drew you close, his touch gentle as he rubbed your wrists. Your sharp hiss drew his attention to the bruise marring your forearm.

Steve's body tensed instantly, his jaw tightening as his gaze darkened.

When his eyes met yours, they were stormy black, raging. Slowly, he gathered you into his arms, pulling you up for a long, steady hug and nuzzling your neck to calm his nerves, to hold himself from snapping the guy in half. You let out a soft sigh, and before he inched away, he kissed your mouth tenderly.

Without warning, Steve turned, and the officer yelped, tripping on his feet and flailing for balance. But Steve, ever the gentleman, reached out to help. His hand wrapped around the man's wrist, ostensibly to steady him, but his grip tightened. Steve's fingers closed around the man's wrist with an unyielding pressure, and the sharp, loud crack reached your ears just before the guy cried in pain.

"Whoa, careful there," Steve said, his voice all mock concern as another sickening crack echoed in the air.

Ouch!

The guy let out a strangled gasp, his face paling as he clutched his now-broken wrist.

Steve tilted his head, frowning in exaggerated confusion. "You alright? That sounded bad."

The officer stammered, his eyes wide and brimming with pain. "You...my wrist."

You'd rarely seen your man so unhinged, especially outside the privacy of your home, and it was doing things to you. Delicious, dangerous things. Things Steve willingly fanned every damn chance he got.

While it was undeniably satisfying to watch Steve's form tense with barely restrained fury, a part of you couldn't help but feel a flicker of fear for what he might do next.

So you quickly intervened.

"Hey, Steve. I'm okay," you murmured.

He turned to you, his expression softening as he pulled you into his arms again, nuzzling your neck and instinctively pressing a gentle kiss to your mark. His mark. You ran your hand over his chest, the fabric of his t-shirt soft, warm, and smelled like home. He took a sharp breath, and you caressed his mark in return, trying to ease his tension. It seemed to work.

He must have sensed the other alpha's smell on you because the next thing you knew, Steve quickly shed his coat and wrapped it around you, a gesture that seemed to relax him while also knowing it would soothe you.

He pulled you into his arms tightly this time, his breathing slowing as the rumble in his chest quietened. He held you close, his warmth anchoring you.

"Are you okay?" Steve's voice softened as his large hands gently caressed the length of your back and head.

You nuzzled into him, swallowing the moan. "I'm fine."

Steve nodded once, satisfied, before pivoting back toward the officer, who was still standing there, pale and visibly shaken. Steve's hand wrapped tighter around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he took a step forward, his towering frame looming over the man. The shadow he cast seemed to make the guy shrink even further.

"Touch her again," Steve began his voice low and calm but laced with a deadly promise. "Or think of her, and you'll be begging me to kill you."

The officer opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

Steve leaned in slightly, his tone almost mocking now. "Bet you're wishing your body cam was on for this, huh?" His lips curled into a small, humorless smirk. You wondered how he'd even notice that. Maybe the lack of a small blue light blinking gave it away.

The guy didn't respond; he just cradled his wrist and stepped back, his ego sufficiently shattered.

Good!

Steve gathered you in his arms and carried you to the bike. He put the helmet on you, and you waited for him to say a word. His face expressionless, overwhelming you.

When you heard nothing, you sighed. "I know I always seem to attract trouble." The adrenaline started to wear off, and you braced yourself for what you knew was coming.

Steve smirked faintly, shaking his head, one hand pinching his brows and the other on his hip. His voice was calm but tinged with that unmistakable edge of disapproval.

Steve Rogers' trademark disapproval.

"Trouble doesn't even begin to cover it, sweetheart," his intense gaze held yours, daring you to deny it. You'd been together for years, and you knew how he gets knowing you were hurt.

The aftermath of the ordeal was usually where your body and mind were short-circuited because Steve made it his personal mission to hover over you like a mother hen. His instincts were already dialed up a few notches, no thanks to the serum. You were fine, more than fine, as long as he was teaching you a valid lesson while fucking you until you couldn't think, but it's the lectures on safety that made you throw a fit.

You sighed, slumping your head against his shoulder. "Here we go…"

"Here we go?" Steve echoed incredulously, pulling your shoulders away slightly to look down at you, "You're damn right, here we go. What were you thinking, picking a fight with an alpha? A cop, no less! You are a scientist, not an agent." He growled.

"He was harassing that poor girl!" you defended.

Steve turned his head slightly, his profile sharp, fucking gorgeous against the glow of the sunset. "And you thought the best course of action was to take him down yourself?"

"It worked. Mostly. I punched him real good," you muttered.

Steve groaned, squeezing your ass, tugging you closer, and you know by the way his palm flexed on your hip, he was itching to spank you.

You felt the familiar flutter in your stomach as you subtly clenched your thighs. Steve chuckled knowingly, his lips finally curving into a faint smile when he observed you. Well, not so subtle, maybe. Nothing really escaped him.

You groaned dramatically, "You're the worst."

"Oh, I will show you worst, doll. Don't you worry," he muttered, pulling you into a sensual kiss.

And when he saw you ready to argue with him, he cradled your jaw roughly with both his palms and kissed your forehead. Steve chuckled darkly, shaking his head, leaning into your ear, "Save your energy... you'll need it."

You were not going to walk straight tomorrow. That was for sure.

@bigtreefest & @steviebbboi besties, I hope you liked it! :D

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[gayofthefae]

PandaFilmsOfficial on Youtube pointed out that there are what look to be black veins under Will's eyes

Now that I see them, they resemble the veins Billy saw on his arms while he was possessed and what we saw on Will's face during his - I guess "exorcism".

This was not Will being killed. Barb had slugs crawling out of her mouth and was I believe discarded on the floor. Will was held up on the wall with a vine deeply embedded in his throat. And black under his skin.

Vecna wasn't trying to kill him then either. "It wants to kill you?" "Not me". That has always been true.

This was a first attempt at possession.

I often think of Lucifer in Supernatural, who was very powerful and couldn't possess just any body because the body would weaken from it, but wanted to possess one of the main characters whose body was strong enough: Sam. But he was unable to get to Sam and instead settled for another body that couldn't take it as well, the primary actor we see as Lucifer.

This makes me think of both the first demogorgon and Billy. Until he could have Will, he had to use another host to get him, so he used the demogorgon. He then succeeded at getting Will but lost him, at which point he tried to replicate his features as best he could: William, born to homophobic abusive father in late March.

But Billy was much weaker in multiple ways. We see the black veins appear much more quickly and unlike Will, Billy is immediately completely unable to fight Vecna's control at all. Not only that, but we also see many symptoms we didn't with Will. Will described only feeling a little bit under the weather and his temperature changing, but Billy is depicted as being extremely light headed with blurry vision, ears ringing, stumbling around, and panting upon his possession.

And notably, unlike Will, Billy was expendable. Billy was killed at the first sign of fighting back. Will fought back all week, even repeatedly attempting sabotage, but a finger was never laid on him. Even despite this resistance, Vecna desperately clung to Will's body as long as possible even in extreme, near unsurvivable heat.

He also did not just possess Billy the second time but a large portion of the town when before, he had only needed Will.

Because he never needed just any host. From the very beginning, he needed Will. Something about Will made only him strong enough to host Vecna in the way that Henry was. The demogorgon was a frantic, impulsive move upon the opening of the gate and was always temporary. I wouldn't be survived if the plan all along was to wait for another gate to be opened to seize the opportunity to get Will. And Billy's body was too weak. It was properly subservient and humanly muscular, but it was not strong enough to house him. He attempted to replicate the power by hosting hundreds instead, but still, it didn't amount.

Only Will would suffice, he learned. He had to get him back, even if he had to tear the town apart to do it.

Vecna's original goal was to possess Will. Not to kill him. Even in season 1, he was not treated like the other victims - killed and discarded. He was literally propped up. He was consumed. It it were about the "shark" instincts of a demogorgon and an animal's need to hunt, why was Will's entire body intact? He was not eaten for animalistic sustenance. Not to mention that Will wasn't even bleeding when he was followed from the street (potentially Mike's house, given the lights' flicker) to his backyard shed. And it had been hours since we saw him captured at Castle Byers in the upside and he was not dead. Why not kill him right then and there? Why not eat him like the deer? Why prop him up? Why crawl down his throat?

Because the goal wasn't to kill him. It was to consume him. To possess him. Barb's face appears colors of bruised and frozen. Ruptured blood vessels, things like that. But Will's is unblemished aside from some sleepless eye bags and black veins under his skin. Under his eyes, even, the only part of his physical body we know to have been changed by his possession.

I don't know if the intention was to possess and return him as a spy like his usage in season 2 or to utilize him in the upside down but I do know one thing: we still do not know Vecna's true goal. "World domination" was described by Gaten as the previous season's stated goal but that Vecna's was more complex. And this makes sense. There's a season left, we aren't done with twists - we can't be, that would make no sense - so it is natural and expected that we do not yet know his true, specific goal. I am also quite curious why Henry can't come through. Why does he need a host in the first when I gate is open? Can he no longer survive outside of the upside down? Is Will more powerful than Henry?

What we do know now is that it is likely that Vecna's initial goal was to possess Will. Not kill him. The demogorgon and Billy were substitutes. He wanted El to join him because he once saw her as his equal the way he now saw Will, but she refused. She was an obstacle to Will and he had to kill her to get him. Beyond that, he had to grow in power to be able to come through himself at will. And when Will left his reach, he had to coax him back.

He wants Will back. We know this. He tore the town apart to get him but didn't touch a single other soul when he had him. But we don't know what he needs him for. But we know that whatever his goal, he needs Will. And only Will will suffice.

[crystalandparrot]

Rottmnt x Reader

School Tour

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

All actors are names made by me, any relation or comparison to these characters is purely coincidental.

Warning: Drug use, marijuana but its not underage drug use and it's legal.

Intergalactic by the Beastie Boys bounced between your ears once you stepped up to Empire High School. Most students were leaving for the day, talking amongst themselves and making plans for the weekend.

"Ms. (L/n)!" A man with a blonde effeminate wig that most students would call a "Karen" haircut waved furiously at you from the top of the steps. He bounced down the steps, his hair poofy and bouncing.

You quickly put your headphones away and tucked the phone in your pocket. "Mr.—"

"Dale is fine! I don't like formalities, I had enough of those in high school." Dale, the Principal of Empire High, chuckled goofily. "How about I give you the tour?" Dale asked, gesturing to the large school doors.

You nodded with a grin, following Dale inside. In between showing you the classes, he asked questions regarding your resume. Some questions were about family, achievements, and activities, but then he surprised you by asking about your schooling. "Oh! I was attending a Mystic College in the Hidden City. Don't worry, it has the same schooling as New York--"

"Oh! I wasn't worried about that! We have a couple of Yokai students and faculty that go in between schools." Dale opened the door to the gymnasium, holding it open for you to walk in.

THUD--SNAP

You looked forward, your eyes immediately expanding once you saw a punching bag quickly flying your way. For a split second, your eyes darted to the top of it, and upon seeing a broken chain your heart continued to drop. You couldn't resist the shriek that left your lips and the closing of your eyes.

THUD

Not feeling anything, you stopped screaming and opened one eye. Your eyes were looking at a large three-fingered, green, hand. Below that hand sat a silver watch with a teddy bear hour hand. In the large hand sat the punching bag, almost like he froze it in time. His fingers wrapped around the sides of the bag, almost fitting perfectly in his palm.

"Tyler! What did we say about using mystic abilities?" A deep voice boomed throughout the building.

"Sorry, Mr. Raph!" A pre-pubescent voice called back.

"C'mere and hang this back up." The deep voice commanded, tossing the punching bag forward. A teenage bull Yokai caught it like he was thrown a pillow. He quickly hung it back up on the one hook that was missing a bag.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" That deep voice shook you from your frozen spot. You looked up, into the deep brown eyes of the huge turtle Yokai in front of you. He wore a sleeveless red hoodie that had holes torn into it where the turtle's spikes poked through. On his legs were black shorts with two red stripes on each leg, matching the color of the red sweatband on his forehead.

"Y-yes.." realizing you were whispering, you cleared your throat, "Yes. Sorry, I'm fine."

"I know, my appearance is probably a little scary--"

You couldn't stop your mouth before it ran, he just looked so dejected, "No! I was just surprised at the sudden bag of sand flying towards me at light speed, I swear! Your appearance is quite nice to look at--"

"Ooh!" A crescendo of students began.

The large Yokai turned with a glare, "Do you want laps? 'Cause it sounded to me like you guys were asking to run laps right now." He insinuated. The students gasped and then they all went back to their original training. The teacher chuckled, then turned back to you. It was then that you noticed the adorable snaggle tooth that he had. "Sorry about them. High schoolers, y'know?" He chuckled again.

You chuckled this time and nodded, "I'm (Y/n) (L/n). The new librarian slash computer lab teacher." You held out your hand for a handshake.

"Raphael, but you can call me Raph. The guidance counselor slash wrestling coach slash gym teacher," Raph's hand completely covered your hand as he shook it.

"Thank you. For saving me, I mean. If it weren't for you, I probably would have been flattened." You said once Raph released your hand.

"It was no problem, really!" Raph said, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

Behind you, Dale cleared his throat, "I hate to interrupt, but it's nearly five and we still have your classroom to see."

"Oh! I didn't realize it was getting so late." You said, pulling out the purple phone to look at the time. As you did, you saw about twenty missed calls and double that in texts from your number. Surprisingly, they were all instructions from Donnie/Othello, telling you how to treat his phone, one password for unlocking his phone and no others, apps you were allowed to use and detailed explanations on how to use them, and finally, instructions to meet and exchange phones.

"Did you wanna...exchange numbers? We're both gonna be afterschool teachers so it might be useful for the future." The adorably large Yokai asked as his face flushed the color of his sweater.

"I'd love to!" You almost handed him the phone, but then paused. "Wait. I'm sorry, it's a long story, but I accidentally switched my phone with someone else's, so I can't put your number in here." Before the turtle could change moods, you grabbed his phone, "So I'll just give you my number." Raph's face flushed brighter as he felt his tail wag in his shorts. He's never met anyone like you before. Without Raph even knowing it, you had given his phone back and left with Principal Dale.

"Yo! You whipped already, coach?!"

"Tyler! Ten laps!"

A harsh wind smacked you in the face as you stood in the scarcely populated park. It was currently 8:59 p.m. as Othello's phone read. You tucked the phone into your puffy sweater pocket and hugged your body. Donnie's meticulous texts said he'd be at Rucko Park at 9 P.M., so you naturally arrived five--okay ten minutes early. You didn't expect it to be so cold, though. Maybe you should have worn more layers or arrived closer to the allotted time, but...you kind of wanted to make a good first impression.

"Madam." A familiar voice shook you from your thoughts. You seemed to do that a lot lately.

Looking up, you spotted the purple-clad turtle Yokai from earlier. Quickly standing, you couldn't resist the temptation of copying his mannerisms slightly, "Good evening, sir. I understand we've fallen into quite the predicament with our cellular communication devices?" You raised an eyebrow.

'...Is she fucking with me?' Donnie heard that little voice in his brain, but his excitement overruled it. "You understand correctly, good lady! Might we resolve this disastrous plight before any other events can overturn this already cruel night?" Donnie finished with a bow.

"Wow."

Donnie felt sweat run down his brow. Maybe he should have listened, that little voice was usually right anyway--

"That. Was incredible."

Donnie looked up, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

"I would continue, but that was better than anything I could have come up with. Did you just make that up?" You asked, stars in your eyes.

Donnie felt himself nod, no words leaving his lips.

"That's awesome." You breathed. "Oh! Your phone, good sir." You held out his phone with a similar bow, adding a bit more flourish as you held out his phone. "I obeyed your instructions to the tee. Well, I only really opened Spotify, but I followed the instructions!" You explained once Donnie took his phone from your hand. You stood fully straight, "You're Othello Von Ryan?"

"Ah! The lady has exquisite taste? Yes, I am Othello, or Donatello, as most know me. You're (username)?" He asked, referring to your Spotify account.

"(Y/n), as most know me." You repeated with a grin.

Donnie chuckled, handing back your phone, "You've been following me for a couple of years, I see," he must have looked through your app.

"Yes! You've helped me so much—you were basically my life line in college—" your face flushed as you realized your words, "YOUR MUSIC! Not you, well, technically you, but—"

"How?" Donnie quieted your thoughts with a single word.

"Your studying playlists kept me sane. If I had to scroll through another classical music studying playlist I would have shrieked." You dragged your hands through your hair, invoking a chuckle from the tall Yokai. "It was such an interesting mesh of music that I was able to get Valedictorian from all my studying! So, thank you." You smiled.

"Valedictorian?! My playlist made you study enough to be the top of your class! Take that Leo!" Donnie laughed chaotically. You accidentally let out a chuckled, startling the turtle into looking back at you.

"I hope you don't think this is overstepping but, I was wondering if you'd listen to a song? I thought you'd like it because of all of your playlists, and if you like it I have a ton more." You asked, scrolling through your Spotify accounts now.

'She's been polite, kind, and stayed out of your phone for the majority of the time you'd encountered each other. The least you could do is listen to a song you won't like.' Donnie reasoned with himself. "Of course! Text it to me, I'll make sure to save your number, oh loyal fan." Donnie joked.

"Really? Sweet! I'll save your number too, oh gracious music supplier." You joked back.

'Her chemistry is electric,' Donnie thought. He felt a buzz and watched as his phone lit up with a text.

"Thanks for meeting with me to switch phones, I wish I could stay longer, but—"

"No, need to explain. You have a date or you have friends arriving—"

You chuckled, startling Donnie from his self conscious rambling, "Oh, yeah. A super hot date with Jupiter Jim while I unpack my new apartment." You connected your headphones back to your phone. "It was really nice meeting you. Maybe we can hang out in the future, if you're up to hanging out with a school librarian?"

Donnie's gaping mouth finally closed as he looked into your hopeful eyes, 'Why were they hopeful?' He gave a small smile, "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Great!" Copying his bow from when you first met, you said, "Adieu, Sir." With that, you both left with your old phones and a new acquaintance.

CLAP "Alright! We start shooting in two weeks, people! And we're already on shit detail."

Leo leaned one cheek on his fist as the other scrolled through his texts. Old flings, fans who found his number, other actors, but nothing that he found important.

"What are we gonna do about Tiffany?"

Leo looked up, seeing all his directors and most of his co-stars looking at him, "Huh?"

"Tiffany! Your co-star? The love interest? The whole reason we've been here for five hours?" The director asked.

"Well, what's the main issue? Why are we trying to fix her little issues when the big issue is what's gonna make or break this?" Leo asked, shoving his phone into his pocket.

The others in the room began to get nervous. Most began sweating, and a few turned red in embarrassment.

"What?" Leo asked, now concerned.

"Tiffany is refusing to be your lead unless..." the director sighed, refusing to look at Leo, "unless you wear a human disguise."

Blink. Blink. "Ha!" Leo began laughing a deep chortle, straight from his core. The others in the room began laughing with him, albeit nervously. "Then let her refuse!"

The director stopped laughing, "But, but. She's your lead—"

Leo had suddenly stopped laughing to glare at his director as he spoke, "No. I'm the lead. Tiffany Blanco was supposed to be Renae Whittler, Primetime's love interest." Yanking the script from who knows where, he began reading, "'Renae Whittler initially despises Primetime, thinking him to be the man who ruined her life, but upon realizing they are after a common enemy, she begins to love him for the way he is. Together, they fight crime, discover truths, and explore worlds, and possibly each other.'" Leo read flatly. "'The way he is'. If you make Primetime human, is that making him, ‘the way he is'?"

The humans in the room looked ashamed and guilty, while the Yokai, some in disguises, looked at Leo in awe.

"If she wants to refuse, let her refuse. Because I will be damned if I let some twenty-three year with small tits and big dreams tell me who I am." With that, Leo stood and stormed out of the room.

As Leo paced the halls, one of his main co-stars, Danny Filmore, ran into the hall after he left. Danny was a deer Yokai who played the role of Primetime's 'Guy in the chair', Marcus Tracy. His character reminded him a lot of Donnie. Without a word, Danny sat in one of the chairs lining the crips walls and pulled out a vape. The vape was slim and purple in color, but it shined under the flickering fluorescent lights above. He took a long inhale and then a small inhale of regular air. After holding it, Leo realized Danny wasn't smoking Nicotine.

"Jesus, Danny, not here." Leo whined.

"What—" Danny started, but was then interrupted by a violent cough from his throat. He held up a finger, telling Leo to wait a minute. Again, Marcus Tracy reminded Leo of Donnie, not the actor who played him. "—ever man, you know Anthony doesn't give a shit." Danny finished, his eyes now bloodshot and lidded.

Anthony Silvermeadow was the director. He wasn't a pushover by any means, but he was pretty lax on the rules. As long as you weren't  under the influence while shooting, he didn't care. Most of the time you saw him with a drink in his hand.

"That was pretty ballsy, man." Danny said, tucking his vape away.

Leo sighed, running a hand down the back of his head, "I know. But...it took so much for me to audition as me that it feels wrong to do anything else. I promised my—" Leo paused on the 'b-word', "—family that I wouldn't change for anyone. And I intend to stand by it."

Danny nodded, but stayed silent.

"I guess I should apologize?" Leo asked Danny.

"Nah. You're right. Tony even said so." Danny let the words hang in the air.

"But?" Leo waited.

"You gotta find your own love interest." Danny smirked.

Leo's mind raced through his texts, his old friends, anything he could think of that would give him a hint of where to start. With a click, the once flickering lights stayed on just as an idea passed through Leo's brain. 'Lightbulb.'

Once Donnie got back home, he pushed his hand into a metal panel next to a large, circular, sealed door. It lit up purple, reading his palm. The panel flashed green, accepting the readout and unlocked the metal doors. The first row of doors twisted clockwise then opened. The second set rotated counterclockwise then opened to reveal the large lab within. Donnie added them for extra security and totally not because they were in a Jupiter Jim movie and he thought it looked cool.

"Donnie!" Shelldon, Donnie's drone and adopted child (not literally speaking...I think?) flew out of the purple themed lab and flew around his father.

"Anything new?" Donnie asked as he walked over to his purple chair. With a click and a hiss, the shoulder pads on Donnie's battle shell released the front of his plastron where it was connected.

"A new number texted you. You have repeating interactions. Would you like me to —" Eight different guns popped out of Shelldon's back compartment, "remove the pest?"

"No!" Donnie cleared his throat, then sat in his chair regally, "No. That won't be necessary. Rename contact (L/n) and check new message." Donnie opened his computer and flipped through his files.

"Contact: (L/n). Sent: "Don't Stop Movin' by S Club. The vibe is 80's dance." I like this chick!" Shelldon added, once his automated voice cut out.

"The vibe?" Donnie asked out loud.

"I think she's referring to your playlists and how the vibe is always different, dude." Shelldon explained.

"Huh. 80's dance music...go ahead and play it, Shelldon." Donnie waved his hand in Shelldon's direction.

It was quiet before a synthetic voice started with the hook. It was followed by a heavy thumping base, then a pleasant male vocalist began to sing the bridge. The words were a nice balance of fast then slow, with vibrato when appropriate. A sudden appearance of a female singer gave Donnie goosebumps. Their voices had a nice harmonization. Her voice grew more and more powerful as the instruments grew. Donnie couldn't help but tap his feet and bob his head. As the lead sang the chorus that was accompanied by more background singers of equal talent, Donnie felt a grin spread onto his lips. The need to boogey was insatiable. The chorus repeated in the background when the male vocalist came back to the mic. The speed in which the song progressed seemed to get quicker, like the hook, chorus, and bridge were all shortened.

By the time the bridge came on again, Donnie couldn't resist. He stood up, performing his dancing moves he’s secretly perfected over the years unbeknownst to his brother and father who all shared the same house.

Until now, that is.

Splinter, also known as Hamato Yoshi, and also known as Donnie and Mikey’s father, walked to Donnie’s lab to explore the commotion. With a cane and small shuffle, Splinter peeked around the door, spying Donnie dancing like he was in an 80’s music video.

“Ah, young love.” Splinter nodded, then put a hand to his chin in thought, “Maybe I will marry one of them off.”

[chiscribbs]

Apocalypse Future Donnie Concepts

I wasn't actually planning on posting these until I had a definitive final design to share alongside them, but- It's probably going to be a while before that happens and I feel bad for how inactive this blog has been lately. I've been working on stuff, but only in-between projects, and none of it is really ready to post. So, here's a little something to prove that I am still alive. ❤

Donnie's design is so hard to update. It's just...so good in its simplicity??? Every element feels necessary to his character - so figuring out what to keep, what to get rid of, and what to change slightly is a definite challenge. It's even harder when we're given so little (canonical) information about what role he played in the Resistance and what effects the Krang Apocalypse may have had on him...including how long ago he was killed in relation to the movie. Or how he was killed, for that matter.

So, I'm playing around with some potential ideas and trying to get something that feels right - feels like Donnie, but if he had to adapt to the apocalypse (while also trying to stick to the show's simplistic, shape-heavy style, so nothing too terribly detailed or complex.) I'll share a few of these ideas below, for anyone who's interested.

(Also, yes - I know the spot-goatee is in no way an original concept, but I have a deep affection for it and had to include it in my design.)

One of the concepts I'm considering is giving Donnie a prosthetic leg, something to sort of parallel Leo with his Robo-Raph arm. But in Donnie's case, he probably lost his leg long before Raph was killed or maybe even before he built the robots of his family (maybe this serves as the inspiration or catalyst for the idea.) My working theory is that he was attempting to detonate a mine field full of some Krang dogs and something went wrong which caused him to get caught up in the resulting blast. He was lucky enough to keep his life, but lost his leg and probably some of his hearing in the process. Naturally, because it's Donnie (and because they're living through an apocalypse), the leg will be more than just a prosthetic limb - it'll have some kind of weaponry or technological capabilities built into it. Just haven't decided what that's going to be yet, lol.

I'm also toying with the idea of him creating some kind of "Ninpo Protection Device" - something to act as a defense mechanism against the Krang's mystic-cancelling (or, more accurately, locking) abilities. He's testing it on himself before green-lighting it to be used on his brothers (which, obviously, never happens.) The problem is I can't decide how to visibly convey this idea, I was thinking something along the lines of one of those medical aid devices that become permanent attachments to the user's body. But most of the visible parts of his body are covered in natural armor, save for his limbs and head. So figuring out the best placement for a thing like that has been a little challenging.

I was considering giving him a mechanical hand along with/in place of the robotic leg, as well. Reason being - he works primarily with his hands and almost never wears practical protection gear (another thing I tried to partially remedy with the addition of the gloves), so if any part of him is going to be lost, his hands would be the logical first choice. I also think there's a poetic element to the guy who relies on his tech becoming more and more "mechanical" himself (but only in the physical sense). It would also imply that there was a time when he couldn't work as efficiently on his own as he normally is able to, due to having one less hand, so there was likely an adjustment period wherein he had to lean into his mystic abilities (and the aid of others around him) far more than he's used to doing. A little background character development for him, because I love that kind of stuff.

These are about all of the definitive concepts I have for him at the moment, but obviously, I'm nowhere near having a finished design just yet. So, all of these could potentially be scrapped or tweaked in the final version.

If you read this far - kudos! And thanks for your interest! :>

[xerith-42]

I have a mcd fic request, a time travel fic where Laurance from the end of the show is teleported back in time to just days or hours before he originally becomes a shadow knight

Ohhhh now this is a ficlet I can write!!!

Thanks for the request!

Laurance blinked. Once. Twice. A third for good measure. He rubbed his eyes just to be sure he wasn't seeing things. But this was reality. No longer was he in a heated battle against the shadow lord for the fate of Ru'aun, no longer was he faced with the potential death of those he loved if he failed here. No, instead he was home. Not New Meteli, or Phoenix Drop, or the Alliance Island. He was home.

Meteli was as run down and beautiful as he remembered it, the scenery of the swamp cradling the slowly collapsing village as it always had. People wandered the streets with downcast faces, but a child rushed past them to bring some light to the world. And then Laurance saw it. Saw when and where and why their faces were so downcast.

He saw himself. He saw a head of bright orange hair attached to a foolish guard trying his seduction tactics on a random lady who had rowed into their docks on a barely functioning ship. He saw the sparkle of love in his eyes when she rejected him, and the fall in his expression when he spoke of his missing sister.

Laurance couldn't move. Couldn't breathe, couldn't think. This was wrong, this was all wrong. This didn't make any sense, why was he here? Why was he seeing this? Was it all an illusion? A trick of his mind to pull him back to a happy memory in the moments before his death?

He remembered when it happened before. When Gene drove the sword into him in the Nether and as his life flashed before his eyes, his last memory was of her amber eyes. Was this the same thing? If so, why could he feel the humid air of the swamp so vividly? Why did his armor cling to his skin so tightly?

"Are you okay?" Her voice broke him from his trance. He looked down at Aphmau, at the glimmer of innocence and curiosity in her eyes, a spark of life he hadn't seen since the war started. She looked so much younger, happier even. "Helloooo? Is anyone home in there?"

"Y-Yes, I'm alright," Laurance managed to stutter out. "M-My apologies. Just having a strange day."

"So is everyone here." Laurance considered where he was, who he was, before remembering a simple fact. One he'd hated for years. He didn't look like himself anymore. She didn't recognize him as an another version of the guard she'd just spoken to. He was just another citizen in Meteli.

"Are you looking for the missing lords daughter?"

"I wasn't planning on it, but I can't stand by and do nothing either. She could be in serious danger." Laurance resisted the urge to laugh. She really was always like this. Maybe he could make it better for her.

"Well, it's not much, but I did see her by that old Shaman's house a few days ago."

"Shaman?"

"In the forests just outside the swamp there's a shaman who's been a friend of the Zvahl family for generations. I doubt he'd hurt her, but it might be good to ask for her there."

"Thank you so much!" She adjusted the strap on her bag, ready to take off before she paused. "I just realized I never caught your name." His voice got stuck in his throat. Her hand extended to the space in between them. "I'm Aphmau of Phoenix Drop!"

His heart was beating louder than he could comprehend, somehow this was pushing his limits. To meet her again felt wrong. For her to not even know his name caused such heartbreak, but of course she didn't. He hadn't even sacrificed himself for her yet. Maybe his warning could prevent it entirely. Maybe.

"My name has been lost to me. You may call me whatever your heart desires, Lady Aphmau." He took her hand, his entire body flaring with warmth at the feeling of her skin against his, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"Whatever you say, weirdo." And like that she was gone.

And Laurance was back.

[a-secret-garden00]

ᴘᴜꜱʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛᴛᴏɴꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 12

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He took more time than necessary in Vanaheim.

Then again, it was the only distraction Heimdall had at the moment. So long as he could take his mind off of her, he could keep a level head. 

Under normal circumstances, he would've simply done what was asked of him and nothing more—grabbed what the All-Father had wanted and returned to Asgard post haste.

Angering Sköll and Hati wasn't something he had planned originally, but a fight with the giant wolves allowed him to embrace the thrill of the fight, prolonging the inevitable just a bit longer.

He took delight in messing with the little half-breed even more than usual. Every poke and prod at the runt's failure and disastrous unleashing of Garm kept the rising flames within him to a steady simmer. 

"Take some Einherjar and go back to Vanaheim," Odin had ordered once Loki had left with his tail between his legs, "I want you to take that lovesick and delirious fool that they call a leader hostage."

That had piqued his interest. As much as he hated the humid jungle that the Vanir called home, he couldn't resist the smirk that pulled at his lips. Undoubtedly a reward in the eyes of his father for retrieving the moon. 

"Now I want him kept alive," The All-Father stressed, "Once that...brute of a god and my dear ex find out he's been taken well," He chuckled, "I'll let you do the honors of making sure they cause no further problems."

He was practically grinning ear to ear. "Of course, All-Father."

He didn't waste any time. With Gulltoppr and a legion of disposable Einherjar, he led the assault. He allowed the mindless soldiers to run havoc, sating their bloodlust by killing any form of fauna that their little black hearts desired. 

It was only once the other members of Freyr's battalion were occupied that the Aesir stepped in, pacing along the demolished campsite and approaching the fertility god himself. "Sizzles! Long time no see!"

Despite having nothing more than a dagger and a bit of Vanir magic to defend himself, the god had managed to send a number of growling Einherjar back to Valhalla, with only a few scratches to show from the overwhelming fight. He looked up, glaring at his sworn enemy. "Heimdick," He greeted right back.

His face twitched at the nickname, though the flashing smile that found its way into his face was nothing short of taunting and menacing. "Still the ever loving charmer, I see."

He arched a single dark brow, though he was all too eager to keep the insults rolling. "Still Odin's bitch, I see."

Heimdall drew his sword, twirling the golden weapon in his hands. One quick glance into that carefree and flirtatious head and he was quickly looking away. "Ugh, have you no modesty or shame? Filth."

Freyr shrugged, "I'd take pleasure in slicing open your neck with this knife," He flipped the blade in his hand, fingers curling around it tightly, "Or shoving it straight up your ass." With a quick swipe of his hand, a slew of vines emerged from the ground. 

Heimdall dodged the plant life conjured by Vanir magic, having seen the plan form in the flirtatious god's head before he had so much as even flinched. "Tut, tut," He chided, "Are you really that dense? At least try to put up a good fight!" In a blink he had lunged at the fertility god, sword drawn for a wide swing. 

Freyr dodged the blow, and so the game of cat and mouse began. Every smack, every kick and scratch Heimdall landed on the dashing pick, somehow both stoked and ebbed away the burning flames beneath the surface. Asserting his superiority, flaunting his control of the bifrost, and taunting the fertility god at every chance he got, he almost didn't want it to end.

"You are foolishly prolonging all of this," The Aesir taunted, watching as Freyr once again charged. But a quick dodge followed by a swift swing of his sword into the fertility god's side, sent his opponent stumbling into the dirt.

"Prick," Freyr spat, hand immediately flying to the bleeding wound on his side.

"That's the best you could come up with?" Heimdall asked, sheathing his blade, "How utterly disappointing." And before the injured Vanir could so much as make another move, a hard blow to the back of the head with Gjallarhorn had rendered him unconscious.

"Bravo, Sizzles," He congratulated, despite knowing well enough that the Vanir couldn't hear him. Rather than tossing him to the Einherjar and letting them have their fun, he began dragging his stepmother's unconscious brother along by the leg. "Still as much of a fool as ever." He called for his mount.

Horns and teeth stained with crimson, the enormous beast was a terrifying sight to most. But once the Graðungr caught sight of his master, the feline practically pranced toward him, chuffing in greeting.

"Good boy," He praised, tossing the limp fertility god over the creature's back. As much as he wasn't looking forward to cleaning the blood and dirt from the beast, he was practically frothing at the mouth to taunt and torture Freyr even more—pull the truths from that carefree brain so that he could feed the embers of hatred and jealousy even further.

Jealousy. It was an emotion that he scarcely dwelled on. His position at the All-Father's side and his pride hardly left any room for such a simple and lowly emotion. Yet within the past several weeks, both the little half-breed and her had sparked those nagging thoughts and emotions that he once thought beneath him. Whether it be Loki obtaining his father's ear and praise, or that pretty little vixen who had toyed with his heart and actually managed to make him think that there was someone worthy of his trust, those burning flames had failed to be extinguished completely.

He traversed through the thick jungle, allowing Gulltoppr to strike down whatever he so desired. There was an abandoned fortress deep within the Northern Wilds—atop a hill and well fortified in the event of a retaliation assault.

With an exasperated sigh, Heimdall dismounted and removed the still unconscious god from his mount's back. "You know," He vented aloud, "Of all the eligible bachelors available to her, it just had to be you." 

A few Einherjar stood guard close by, but he was more interested in taking out his anger on the fertility god than anything else. With little care, he dropped Freyr on the ground, giving a swift kick to his side. "Wakey, wakey, Sizzles!"

The charming brunette grunted, but with a heavy cough gradually came to. "Goddamn," He drew in a hiss through his teeth, rubbing the forming bump on the back of his head. But a twinge of pain crossing his face had the god quickly gripping his injured side.

Heimdall drew his sword again, twirling the weapon in his hand, "Have a nice nap?" 

The light jab was met with a sharp glare, and a slew of profanities and insults racing through the weasel's head. But it wasn't until Heimdall spotted a familiar face floating somewhere in the womanizing god's head that his tone shifted, stoking the simmering jealousy once more.

So they did know one another. He siphoned through the fleeting thoughts and memories, taking a step towards the collapsed Vanir. "Going after mortals now, are we? Not satisfied with what the Vanir or Elven litters have to offer?"

"What the hell are you getting at now, Heimdick?"

His face twitched at the defamatory nickname. "No need to act dumber than you already are, Sizzles!" He couldn't resist driving his foot into Freyr's chest, pinning him against the crumbling wall. "You know exactly who I'm talking about. Her—that floozy little wretch that spent so much time traversing the Nine Realms with Kratos and his little half-breed son."

Freyr winced, trying to wrestle his way out from beneath his crushing strength. A flicker of recognition dawned in the Vanir's head. Images of her face flashed in his mind. It seemed she had been here not long ago, accompanying both Freya and that brute of a god in order to break the curse binding her to Midgard.

Images of him sweet talking her, her laughs, their time together was short, but there was an attraction there that Freyr wasn't able to hide from Heimdall's keen sight.

With a crushing kick, Heimdall had shoved the fertility god aside. The tender and warm flames of jealousy combined with the sickening bile of his heart aching made for a rather unstable mix. Had it not been for the All-Father's orders to use him as bait, he would've killed the plant smoking and pathetic excuse for a god on sight. 

"Oh," Freyr coughed, pulling much needed air into his lungs, "Her." His lips twitched into a smirk. "Yeah, we've crossed paths. Pretty smile, surprisingly philosophical, horrible drinking buddy but not a bad smoking one…" Another kick made him shut his mouth, painfully clutching his bleeding side.

"You're extremely lucky that I've been specifically instructed not to rip you to shreds. Personally, I think your head would look much better on a pike than your shoulders."

But Freyr let out a breathless laugh, eyes taunting and lips twitched into a mocking grin. "I gotta say, Heimdall, green isn't your color. But making the almighty and untouchable God of Foresight a jealous wreck is a personal victory in my book."

Heimdall clenched his jaw, baring his teeth as he tried to rear back his own emotions. Whether it was a stroke of luck, or the timing was simply perfect, the spark of a bright signal flare shooting into the sky from close by warranted his attention. And although the jealousy still simmered, he was practically just as eager to take on the enemies approaching. "Looks like your dear sister has decided to make a guest appearance." He called for Gulltoppr, and practically jumped onto the Graðungr's back. "Don't worry, Sizzles," He grinned, golden teeth flashing against the crackling torches. His envy practically purred in satisfaction at the deadly promise that had formed on his lips. "I'll be back for you later."

[nekoannie-chan]

Echoes of the unknown part I

Echoes of the unknown part I

Title: Echoes of the unknown part I.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers & OFC (Grace Rogers).

Word count: 289 words.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: A mother will do anything for her children.

Major Tags: Dark themes, serial killer, mention of lost memories.

A/N: This is based on Longlegs.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate my work myself) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

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There was a mystery that the Rogers twins had not yet solved; however, S.H.I.E.L.D. had left them in charge of a very peculiar mission that was going to take a turn that no one expected.

Steve couldn't help but have a recurring dream about something that maybe happened in his childhood or maybe not; it wasn't entirely clear, and he had no memory of that specific day either.

In that dream, he and his twin sister, Grace, were playing on the streets of Brooklyn, waiting for Bucky and Becca. Suddenly, a strange man approached Grace to tell her that she was “the almost-birthday girl” and handed her a doll identical to her. In turn, Steve receives a doll that looks just like him. However, the moment the man utters the phrase “You have a destiny,” the mood abruptly changes. The daylight goes out, and everything becomes dark and cold, leaving Steve with a sense of dread and confusion. Something is not right; he remembers his mother screaming.

But when he woke up, he didn't even remember them having such dolls in the house.

Grace, meanwhile, usually has a different dream; the same strange man from Steve's dream broke into her home, where her mother was cooking. The man reveals that Grace and Steve will die young due to their illnesses. In exchange for saving her children, the man offers Sarah a deal: to help him with a plan of which she doesn't understand the full implications. Although Sarah tries to resist, the anguish of losing her children leads her to accept the pact, promising that her children will grow to adulthood.

Though the twins have never told each other about those dreams, they may be more than just dreams.

[daddyslittlebunii]

Okay my favorite one has to be me being stalked and one night I just got out the shower and I noticed that there is kind of a chill a draft in the room kind of like the window was open but there wasn't any windows open I just kind of knocked it to me just getting out the shower so I continued on who's going to my room and putting on a baggy shirt and I noticed some of my clothes missing but again knocked it off too misplacing them then one night I was asleep when somebody came in through my window and slowly took off my clothes and covered my mouth as I slowly woke up as I started to panic and he cooed at me and said " be quite love heh originally wasn't going to do this but how could I resist when you decided not to wear panties tonigh fuuckk" He had on a mask I whined but kept quiet as he unbuttoned his pants and took them off taking out his cock stroking it while looking at my face as I couldn't help but to look at his cock I mean curiosity killed the cat but the cat has nine lives Right he proceeded to ask me " you'll be a good girl if I take my hand off your mouth right please please be a good girl for me right I really want to see Your face as I get off And fuck you Slut" I'm not as he removes his hands as he continues stroking his cock as I lick my lips as he smirks noticing that, not that I can see it I see them mutters "beautiful fucking whore" as he then proceeds to lift up my shirt looking at my boobs groping Them squeezing them Playing with the nipples Squeezing the nipples Earning a Wine whimper and moan Making him harder As he Lifts up the mess just a bit Not enough for me to see his face Due to him Leaning his face down When he does it As he spits on My chest And boobs Rubbing it all over them As I blush while the mask is still up and I still can't see his face he sucks on my nipples biting them as I moan and whimper squirming as he Chuckles and smirks getting the reaction he won't want it and so desperately needed he then stops list Trails of kisses As he moves all the way down to my pussy and sees it dripping wet and comments " hmm haha someone breaks into your house and they could kill you at any second and they're raping you right now and that turns you on fucking slut your pussy is so wet just from that mmm" he couldn't help himself and starts licking my pussy tasting me I mean if he is already doing this even if it wasn't his plan might as well go all out right as he starts fucking me with his tongue and fingers as I start screaming out as he watches my every reaction to it thriving and watching how my eyes roll back and every noise I make every sound it's better than what he hears in the cameras he set up in the apartment you know I'm about to cum and he speed ups as I cum on his tounge as he drinks all of it as he was no time slams his cock in and thrust in and out hearing me scream for him to stop its too big slow fow down but he doesn't he keeps fucking my tight pussy cooing at me at my face of pain knowing I'm loving itAs at this point I'm crying As he goes faster and harder As he loves seeing me in tears Fucking Until he satisfied He fucks me for An hour He cums in me and I'm fucked dumb he cleans me up and every trace of him and leavs

[nihilnovisubsole]

Gimme 18 and if it’s not an old man I’ll even applaud

hello!! sorry i'm a day or two late on this. it's hard to post at the same velocity when you're doing it on your breaks.

18. the character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

i've got some half-finished original short stories that are like getting blood from a stone, but they're difficult because of research and plot, not character. no, i got into a whole other character predicament this year. one that probably involved biting off more than i could chew.

i find the prevailing style in shipfic is to spend the majority of time with the main pair, and other characters take much more minor supporting roles. i heard it a long time ago, actually: somebody i knew told me that my laser focus on writing only my pairings was holding my character voice skills back. i wouldn't go that far. i think it's a common mode in romance because the development of the main relationship is what the story is about. that's just logic. i imagine that logic goes double for stories where the writer explores the physical side of the relationship. i mean, we joke about PWP, but i'd wager most erotica readers aren't showing up for debates about tea forks first, if you get my drift.

when i drafted ideas for ffxiv stories over the past few months, i thought, "hey, this isn't for money or a deadline. i can afford to experiment." i knew i couldn't resist writing about royce and raubahn eventually, but i wanted platonic stories that highlighted her with other characters as well. it wasn't some kind of snobbish "gen fic over shipfic" deal. i just thought it'd be a fun challenge to make stuff Like It Is In The Game. the main story is about all kinds of different interpersonal bonds, and it's such a huge cast, i felt like i'd be leaving a lot on the table.

there's one complication to that. when you plan for an ensemble cast, you have to learn a deluge of new character voices all at once. urianger's pretty straightforward if you've taken a shakespeare class, but where are you putting y'shtola on her spectrum of sarcasm and bookishness? how is your dialogue walking the precarious tightrope of antiquated and modern that ffxiv's localization falls into? not to sound corporate or anything, but there's an onboarding process! it sure was easier when you only had to worry about getting the love interest right.

"so, ak, are you actually going to follow through with that challenge? are you going to finish any of those WIP stories and post them?" uhhh... we'll see!!

[ashcoveredtraveler]

The Greenpath Vessel

The Greenpath Vessel wasn't originally by themselves as they escaped The Abyss with Broken Vessel/Lost Kin, who is their eggmate. They both spent a good amount of time together, going through Deepnest until getting split up at Fungal Wastes. While Lost kin went somehow made their way inside of the waterways and eventually Kingdoms Edge, The Greenpath Vessel went upwards to, you guessed it, Greenpath.

Unlike the nosk triplets, the Greenpath Vessel is able to see. They also have a set of stunted wings that are situated on the lower part of their back. While they can't fly, they are able to launch themselves forward.

Their life is a lonely life after their separation from their twin. They slept in every crevasse that they could and barely had food. At some point they must have found out that they had retractable claws and started eating meat. Their actions slowly start attracting the attention of the Hunter.

At first it is the unusual way some of the shrubbery bent and how there is a lot more physical disturbance , but if you were to follow the path, it would just get cut off. It wasn't any track that the Hunter could recognize. Then there were multiple spots of blood, a scene of the messy kill. It was obvious that something was hunting in his territory, but he couldn't find whatever it was.

One day they crossed their paths and it doesn't go how either of them want it to go, though afterwards it's the best thing that could have happened to them. It was a storm night and the weather was getting cold and the Greenpath Vessel was starving, tired, cold and injured. While the injuries were minor, they weren't treated well and started to get infected. Luckily for them, there is an injured tik tik in the open. (Un) luckily for them, it was a trap set up by the Hunter, waiting in the bushes so he could get one last morsel for the storm to come.

They pounced on the tik tik, eating it right there. The Hunter simply watches the child eat the tik tik ravenously, taking note of what state they were in once a shell of the tik tik was left from the meal, the vessel shuffled only a few steps before dropping from exhaustion.

The Hunter decided to help the child out and took them into his warm den. There he treats their wounds and cooks meat for them to recover. They probably resisted somewhat but eventually gave in, (I will probably give more of a description on their dynamic in a later post, but I would like to just post it here.)

From there the Hunter decided to raise the vessel as a tiny hunter. He gave them the name Mothwing based on their stunted wings that felt like a moths wing. He takes them on week long hunting trips and teaches them how to survive.

Mothwing was fearless, almost too fearless. They had to be taught restraint as they seemed to want to attack any edible thing in sight. Once the restraint was taught, a side to Mothwing appeared. A very kind and patient side. A side that is willing to help those in need and show affection. The Hunter doesn't discourage this kindness, as long as it doesn't negatively affect them.

With this notice in change on their behavior when they are somewhat stable, the Hunter knew that Mothwing was not a solitary creature in nature, so me makes sure to go to the Markets of Greenpath so they could socialize with others. He could have left them with other social bugs, but he had grown attached to them(even though he probably won't admit it). Though Mothwing got attached to him as well.

During one of these trips to the markets of Greenpath, Mothwing comes across their twin Lost kin, who is named Kyne, is now living with the Nailmasters in Greenpath. While they do deeply miss each other, they still both live with their respective guardians and come to see each other every other day.

I am unsure how Pale King would find them as my original plan was for them to not split up with Kyne and stay with the Nailmasters. The Pale King would find them when scheduling a lesson with the Nailmasters. I guess the Nailmasters might tell the Pale King that Mothwing is in Greenpath when he inquires if they know of any locations of vessels.

Regardless when The Pale King offers Mothwing to stay with them in the Palace, they would decline. They do try to make as much contact with their sibling that is in the Palace, and their siblings in Deepnest. However they seemed to bond more with the Deepnest Triplets as they have more in common with them.

[pesterloglog]

Harry Anderson Egbert, Vriska Serket, Vrissy Maryam-Lalonde, John Egbert, Tavros Crocker

Page 195-196

DO YOU LAND ON YOUR FEET ARE YOU TENSE WHEN YOU SENSE THERE'S A STORM IN THE AIR

HARRY: ok everyone, my dad's calling.

HARRY: if he finds out you're here then he will definitely put two and two together, so PLEASE just keep quiet and let me do the talking.

VRISKA: Sure thing.

HARRY: er,

HARRY: hi dad.

VRISKA: HI JOHN!!!!!!!!

VRISSY: Hi Mister Eg8ert!!!!!!!!!

HARRY: oh god dammit.

HARRY: um.

HARRY: so.

HARRY: i guess.

HARRY: first of all,

JOHN: HELLO SON!

JOHN: I AM

JOHN: SO

JOHN: VERY

JOHN: PROUD OF YOU!!!!!!!!

HARRY:

JOHN: PHEW, that felt good to say.

JOHN: or to yell, i guess. heheh.

JOHN: sorry about that, harry anderson.

JOHN: i just didn't think i'd be seeing your handiwork all over the news quite so soon!

HARRY: so...

HARRY: you know about it.

JOHN: yep! you think i wouldn't have recognized your school?

HARRY: right... and you're not like... mad? about the dead body and vriska and stuff?

JOHN: son,

JOHN: it looks like you tried to pull one of the biggest pranks i can think of.

JOHN: and it backfired!

HARRY: y... yeah.

JOHN: but that's ok!!!

JOHN: it could have happened to the best of us.

JOHN: ok, so maybe it wasn't the most original idea.

JOHN: and you should probably have steered clear of such a blatant nod to weekend at bernie's without seriously planning some of the logistics in advance.

JOHN: i know that they make it seem so easy in that movie, but it's important to remember that not everything on the big screen translates easily to real life.

JOHN: ESPECIALLY when dead bodies and clowns are concerned.

JOHN: but these are all mistakes that any amateur prank master has to make some time.

JOHN: and besides, you managed to keep quiet about it the whole time we were chatting earlier. i was completely fooled!

JOHN: but you had to get one up on the prankster's gambit against me someday. honestly, it feels like an early birthday present or something!

JOHN: so i guess what i'm saying is that... you should be proud of yourself.

HARRY: ok dad.

HARRY: um, thanks.

JOHN: so. you're still at your mother's house?

HARRY: yeah... i couldn't think where else to go.

HARRY: you obviously just heard, but both vriskas are here. tavros too.

HARRY: i think the girls are fighting? i don't really know. it's very confusing due to the fact that there are... well.

JOHN: two of them?

HARRY: yeah.

HARRY: i think two vriskas is more than enough for anybody.

JOHN: heh. two vriskas is NOTHING.

JOHN: when i was your age i lost count of all the vriskas i had to keep track of.

JOHN: it was probably some preposterous number.

HARRY: hahaha.

JOHN: and tavros? is he ok?

HARRY: i think so.

HARRY: he seems his, uh,, usual self,,,

JOHN: now, harry anderson, i know that you and tavros haven't always gotten along.

JOHN: but i am going to have to ask you to try and look out for him for the time being.

JOHN: your uncle jake and i... well, i'll explain later.

JOHN: let's just say that gamzee isn't the only family member jane is losing today.

HARRY: dad... if you wanted me to KILL tavros, you only had to ask.

TAVROS: (Um,,,)

HARRY: couldn't resist.

JOHN: can you see out of the window?

HARRY: yeah, i'm looking right now. the place is heaving with reporters.

JOHN: i thought so. the press didn't take long to come to the same conclusion i did. you're on the news already.

JOHN: and it's the same story here. people with cameras are crawling all over the yard.

JOHN: which means jane's secret police are there too. the drones won't be far behind.

HARRY: oh fuck.

HARRY: sorry, i mean. oh... farts.

JOHN: harry anderson egbert.

JOHN: the word "fuck" was invented for moments like this.

HARRY: haha?

JOHN: but anyway, you need to get out of there, fast.

JOHN: try to create some kind of distraction or something, and then head for the bell tower.

HARRY: you mean the one they hang the dirk strider memorial effigy from every year?

JOHN: yes, that's the place.

JOHN: i'll meet you guys up there.

HARRY: um,

HARRY: ok dad.

JOHN: oh, and harry?

JOHN: just some small pieces of advice.

JOHN: some guidelines that any budding prankster or newly fledged fugitive should know.

JOHN: don't panic,

JOHN: don't make a scene,

JOHN: and whatever you do...

JOHN: don't get caught!!

[from-ultra-space]

Nori’s Trust: a Tale from Osmund

This is Nori’s Stories 3 (NS is a collection of little short stories and Drabbles that talk about Nori or his friends. You can read them out of order it’s not a problem but the others are linked in the pinned post) this one is from the point of view of Osmund Phoris as she talks about Nori’s relationship with his partner, and a little about how they became separated.

Her name was Ulva Cassius and unlike Nori she was a rebel. When the two first met no one was quite sure what would happen given how different the two were, but it turns out opposites attract. More than attract even, the two were inseparable.

Where one knew common sense, the other knew bravery and self-care. When one knew what to do, the other knew how to do it. Together they could tackle any task, any danger, any expedition.

Ulva was always the one who owned a situation. She was strong, in charge, and learned quickly. If there was ever a problem she was the first to find it and eliminate it. In fact, when the concept of pokemon battles was originally brought back to U-Meg she was the first to get the hang of it. Everything she tried broke tradition and expanded horizons… when it worked.

Nori, on the other hand, was quiet and careful. He was curious and organized, with his notes detailing every test, outcome, and new question. He excelled at utilizing his resources and knowledge to help others, just as we had helped him.

They looked out for each other, both in the field and in the city. There were a few close calls but for the most part Nori's preparedness and Ulva's quick thinking kept casualties (physical and social) to a minimum.

However, it couldn't always last. I remember it fairly well, mostly because it wasn't too often that Nori scheduled private training sessions. It took a little bit of convincing but a few minutes and some form corrections he relented.

"Osmund," Nori said softly, "I am not quite sure if it's a good idea."

"Oh?" I asked as I set up equipment for mobility training. "I thought you were the first to suggest this plan after Lusamine's actions."

Nori sighed in frustration, probably at himself. "Yes, and it is not that Ulva can't handle it but…"

"You're starting to think it might not be worth the risk." I supplied.

"Yes."

"And you don't want to be alone, and you don't want her to be alone."

"...yes."

"Then tell me Nori, why did you suggest it, and why is Phyco going through with it?"

Nori set down the weights he was moving and thought for a while. Occasionally I would see him furrow his eyebrows and shake his head but I let the right answer come to him. It always did.

"Because, " he finally said, "the best way to strengthen your own argument is to know your enemy's. No matter who we talk to, we'll get biased information, so we collect the data ourselves. Once we compare we should have an accurate conclusion."

I smiled, simply because I knew our future would be in good hands.

Nori continued, "Ulva is the only person skilled enough to be in those kinds of situations. She's fast and strong and she can get herself out of bad spots. I know she can hold her own in a fight."

Then I asked the simplest question in the world, "Do you trust her?" Yet Nori smiled with such confidence I couldn't have resisted.

"With my life." he replied "and I have already done that far too many times."

[multipleoccupancy]

Satisfied that whatever hesitations she had originally had since faded, Sloane accepted her confirmation but was more grateful of the explanation when it came. "I see," he acknowledged but didn't seem all that worried about it or put off. "Thank you for explaining, and for agreeing to the work. There will be no need for you to be near any edges or the like, just the widow which I am sure will be safe." They didn't tend to open all that far but she could certainly aim the crossbow through them.

"You may find that you spot the monster before we do while you're up there but it'll be worth waiting for it to go into your trap before firing anything." That made sense right? No point in scaring it off if they had the means to capture the mutated student.

Theo followed Samantha back towards Sloane and Violet, quickly fixing his hair with his hands as he went with at least some success as they drew up to them again. His heart getting just a little bit faster as he accepted they were now at the point where they had to kick their plan into action.

However, Samantha opened up such a golden opportunity that he couldn't resist offering one more laugh as he spoke to Violet but to also wind up his fellow agents. "You'll be way better than either of these two anyway." He encouraged with a light laugh and another short little wink to Violet. He still wasn't fond of the plan but he would do his part in any case. That's what they did.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"Oh." Violet was terribly relieved. A room with a window was much less scary than a roof. "Yes, I can do that." She was so glad that she wouldn't have to stand on the edge of a roof, that she didn't realize Sloane was trying to keep her as far away from the fight as possible.

She blushed, embarrassed. Somehow, she feared that admitting any weakness would confirm in his eyes that she was too young for this. That he shouldn't trust her with a weapon. But he had noticed her discomfort and so she figured it was best to tell him the truth. "I'm scared of heights," she admitted, "I fell from a great height, and since then I just..." She shook her head. "But I'll be fine aiming from a window." As long as she could feel the hard, reassuring floor beneath her feet.

Samantha was about to tickle him again for his comment about the cans, but when she noticed that Sloane and Violet were having a serious conversation, she simply nudged him back with her elbow and nodded. The hours had passed, and the time to put their plan into motion had come.

"Ready to be our stealth archer?" she asked Violet, smiling, as she walked up to her. "After seeing you in action, I know I'm gonna be well protected out there."

[bigwishes]

Can I have a wish? I love stereotype transformations. Can you use your magic to make me the biggest parody of frat bro? The whole life of partying, beer drinking, working out and horrible manners. The only thing I request is to be DUMB. Like the definition of fucking idiot. Unable to think without someone commanding me like the dumb animal I am.

Well of course. So you wanna be a frat boi? well you'll need to join a frat to do that and I know some guys who are looking for new members, if you'd like to meet them?

The three blokes standing right in front of you are Danny, Dan and Daniel. You were a little intimidated by the three hulking hunks but when they started talking they were a lot more welcoming than you thought.

"hey bro, looking to sign up to a frat?" "yeah bro, signing up can do awesome stuff like cut your fees down" "hu hu hu hu" "don't mind Daniel, he's errr" "Hungover!" "Yeah hungover!" "hu hu hu hu" "So wanna sign up?" "we'll even chuck in a free body transformation"

You took a moment to think but slashing fees down AND getting someone help get you into shape! That's a deal you were willing to take. You follow Danny through the crowd to the sign up station. You see Dan grab Daniel by the hand and drag him along too. You reached the sign up station and had a board pushed into your chest by Danny. You hesitated staring at Daniel stopped, slouching into Dan drooling all over his chest.

"Don't mind my boyfriend, he has messy hangovers" "mmmm lov yoouuuuuuu"

You were trying to read over the conditions of the sign up but couldn't focus over Danny yelling to bros walking by and the sounds of Dan dealing with his slurping slobbering boytoy. You just signed thinking if there were any issues you'd deal with them in the semester break. As you dotted your signature everything felt strange, the world spun and you fell forward into a wall of solid muscle.

"wo-ah bro, I got you" you felt thick fingers running through your hair as you passed out. ________________________________________

You came too in a dark basement, your first thought was those blokes stole your kidneys and plan to sell them. You body felt weird, a pain all over, tight. You had no idea what was going on until you stepped in front of a mirror. There you were, stripped down to your underwear but it wasn't you....but IT WAS YOU. You don't know what happened, or what came over you but you couldn't help but flex all this new found muscle mass in front of the mirror.

"YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAH BROOOOOOOOOOO" WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? you had never yelled or spoken like that before. You tried to think of any other words but every time you spoke out loud some form of bro, bruh, or dude came out of your mouth. Moments later a door opened at the top of the stairs of the basement. Danny, Dan and Daniel were all standing looking down at you posing.

"Enjoying the new bod bro?" "hu hu hu" "Put some clothes on stud, we're goin partyin"

There was something about Danny, the way he was smirking, like he had more planned but fuck you couldn't resist taking this new body for a spin and you we're hoping your new 3 frat bros would help you pick up some guy to stick your new massive meat into.

-----------------------------------

At the party your body almost went on auto pilot, downing every kind of booze you could get your hands on, a master of beer pong and flexing for anyone who'd look at you. You were also acting like an absolute ass hole. One guy from another frat came up to ask you how much you bench and your first reaction to him was to burp in his face.

"More than you pipsqueak now fuck off I'm trying to get some hotties"

With how you were acting guys that were originally interested in you were now starting to turn away. You behaviour only got worse as you drank more. You began slurring your words and grabbing onto guys, blatantly asking them for ass, ab or dick picks for your spank bank. You'd never felt like this but it felt incredible. You lifted up your shirt loading it over your pecs and began to parade around demanding some bloke do shots off your abs.

Eventually Danny came round to you and pulled you into a side room.

"woah there big fella, trying to give away all that prime beef?" "why do you care bro" "dude, all I'm sayin is a body like that aint for playing its for keeping with another hot stud"

Danny bit down on his lip and put a massive muscled hand on your chest.

"Dude! are ya just gonna stand there lookin, or ya gonna...buy a slab of beef?"

Next thing you knew your pants were around your ankles, Danny had slid a condom over your down 8inch meat and began giving you the best hand job of your life.

"Aw, bro, whats the point of a condom for a handy?" "Just wait and see bro"

You were in absolute heaven and it was getting better and better by the second. If this is what being a frat boy was, no if this is what being a fuck boy was you never want to go back. Before you knew it you were seconds away from blowing your load. "Bro take the condom off, I don't want this first load to be held back" "Will you be my boyfriend?" "HUH?!?!, BRO CAN WE DO THIS LATER" "Dude, don't be a fucking pussy and say yes, you'll get a reward" You were thinking if you said yes he'd let you finish on his big muscled chest and abs, the idea of seeing a big lad like Danny covered in your cum would be so fucking hot.

"Yes, yes, I'll be your boyfrieeeennndddd"

The moment you said it you blasted into the condom. It was disappointing, you missed the chance to cover the stud and make him beg for more but something was weird. Your dick was still pulsing like you were gonna blow another load, Your head began to pound, at first you thought it was the booze but it was worse than any drinking headache. You dug your hands into Danny's thick traps for support and he continued to jerk you before you shot another load. The best feeling orgasm of your life, you moaned in ecstasy. Looking down you noticed the clear condom was filled with a pink liquid.

"Wha- what the fuuuuuuuu-"

Your jaw fell open, slack, as your tongue slipped to the edge of your lips. A river of drool quickly ran down you chin and onto your pecs. You let go of Danny and stood there. Shoulder's hunched forward and drool running down your abs. Danny tied the condom off that was filled like a water balloon with the thick pink cream and bounced it in front of your blank eyes.

"Whaddup babe? cum your fucking brains out" "Hu hu hu, yeaaa" _________________________________________ A few months had gone buy and you did nothing more than lift weights, drink, suck Danny's dick and threaten to beat up any guy who hit on your new boyfriend. You'd become nothing more than a moronic fucking asshole frat boy obsessed with servicing his king's every need and today his need was a bodyguard. Danny could handle himself but him and Dan always loved to have you and Daniel close by, They loved the show when their two moron boy toys growl and grumble making every other frat on campus too scared to try and get guys away from their sign up table.

Danny had left you by the pool, to make sure everyone could see you and all your size. Whilst you were intimidating if people got too close to Danny on your own you were no threat. In fact people spent the whole afternoon walking by laughing at you as you'd had the same drink since you sat down but hadn't drunk so much as a mouthful and you couldn't workout how to get your mouth around the straw, let alone work out how to get the drink in your mouth if you ever got your lips around the straw.

There you go mate, you have become a dumb horny frat himbo, programmed to party, work out and do anything your boyfriend commanded you too.

[soaps-hoe-141]

Back Together

Part 30

Pairing: Soap x Ghost

WC: 4.3k

Synopsis: Soap getting interrogated again

Warnings: Mentions of torture

Pain lanced through his arm, face sweating and red as he spread his fingers against the wishes of his mind. Bands were wrapped around each digit providing resistance to the action. His jaw tensed as he focused on his hand, staring at it and willing his fingers to spread apart faster, to spread apart more than they had the last time. Finally his hand was open as far as it would go and he let his fingers curl back in on themselves with a huff out of his lungs. "Good Sergeant, that's what we like to see. You're making amazing progress actually. Are you experiencing any pain?" He'd been turned over for the past few hours to his physical therapist, actually the same one that had worked with Ghost, or at least that's what the big man had told him.

She was pretty and caught his eye immediately from the other side of the big room, lifting his mouth in a smile that couldn't be seen. He'd leaned over to the Lieutenant next to him and whispered, "Could've mentioned she was attractive, Ghost. Gorgeous actually is probably a better word."

The look in the big man's eyes when he'd said that could have killed, almost wishing it had when he saw how tense his shoulders got, embarrassment running through him. Hazel eyes glared down at him and he felt as if it was cutting straight through the black balaclava he had donned that made him flinch backwards before Ghost had retorted with a gruff, "Hadn't noticed MacTavish." He wasn't exactly sure why the big man had been upset by his comment but it was very obvious that he was. Maybe the two had something going on? That wouldn't be that surprising actually, the both of them were attractive. Well he couldn't really speak for Ghost all that much when it came to what was under the mask but he knew what kind of reaction he had to the guy and he wasn't even gay so it stood to reason that most others would have had the same. Especially a woman who had undoubtedly touched the hard muscles hidden beneath dark clothes. What was hidden beneath those dark clothes?

It wasn't until she cleared her throat while he stared up at her face blankly that the world came back into focus. She asked again, "Is there any pain when you're doing your reps Sergeant?"

The voice in his mind said quickly 'Yes,' but he drowned that response in the ocean of his thoughts before answering "No, none at all. Feels good, almost like there was never any pain to begin with. You're doing great lass, never met a physical therapist like you. You should add more resistance next time, I can take it." He heard another rough grunt behind him and turned to find the Lieutenant’s eyes boring a hole through his skull. Eyes unreadable behind the mask until his mind clarified 'He knows.'

Knows what you stupid fucker? That he's lying? The woman narrowed her gaze at him so that when he turned back around with red ears she was giving him a look so full of skepticism he was sure she was about to call his bluff. But she couldn't see the pain on his face while he was doing reps. She couldn't see his red, sweating face and the tells that gave away his lie. Thankfully though she let it slide, electing to dismiss his suggestion, "No Sergeant MacTavish I'm not going to do that quite yet. We'll stick to the original recovery plan I gave you on your first week of PT."

Soap gave her a quick, charming smile, "Oh aye, of course lass." He didn't admit to her that not only had he not read through the PT guide he'd given her, he had yet to even open it. He would be damned if he was gonna let some piece of paper tell him what he could and couldn't do. Besides, Ghost had binged the entirety of the guide within the first hour the woman had laid it in his lap. He had his faithful friend by his side, what did he need to know everything for when the Lieutenant never left and he was watching every little move Soap made?

"Come on then, let me see you walk now Sergeant. Your limp has been getting better but I've got to make sure your other leg isn't over compensating." She watched him as he stood from the chair, thigh tensing painfully for a moment as it adjusted to the weight.

Quickly a smirk found his mouth, he couldn't help the facial expressions despite the knowledge she couldn't see them, and he shot her a look, "I'm pretty sure you're just trying to stare at my arse ma'am. You should be careful with that, not everyone is as nice about that sort of thing as me." Both her and Ghost gave quiet scoffs then and he chuckled a bit before he took a hesitant step forward. Balancing precariously on one leg he shifted his weight to the other, holding the position until he was sure he wasn't going to fall and hurried to take his next step.

By the time he'd taken his fifth a familiar voice caught his attention, "Your PT is getting cut short today. You have a meeting with command in an hour. Best go get dressed, Sergeant." The Captain was looking at him from where he was supposed to be walking to. Soap could feel his leg already wanting to give out, the last couple steps staring menacingly at him.

Quick nods were rattling his brain in his skull before he even knew what was happening. Price had warned him this would happen at some point and while he couldn't guarantee what exactly would go on in the meeting he'd given the Sergeant a fairly good idea. They wanted a mission report, a mission report that Soap couldn't provide because every file related to his capture and rescue had been sealed behind so much red tape it was impossible to cut through. And since he couldn't remember anything before the torture the best he could provide was a report on Ilya Barandin's interior decorating, sub-par at best, and his favorite kitchen knife. "Aye sir, I'll be there," the Scotsman didn't wait for Ghost or Price, just lifted his chin and continued his achingly slow pace out of the room and down the hall. He needed to get ready and he was going to do this one on his own, he could manage that at least.

‐----------

Soap stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he hadn't taken the balaclava off since Ghost had given it to him unless he was taking a shower, and the second he'd turned the water off he had it on before he even grabbed the towel. The scent of pine and sweat had faded since, replaced by his own musk. He couldn't face command in this thing though, they'd have him shelved in a minute.

He reached for the hem of it, lifting it slowly until he could see the dark hairs on his neck where he hadn't shaved in weeks. His hand froze there, refusing to lift any further. It seemed his mind wasn't yet ready to look at the dead man again. "Mac na galla," he cursed at the unreasonable visage looking back at him through the eye holes.

Nearly the second the curse left his mouth the deep rumble came through the door, "What's wrong Soap?"

Blue eyes shifted down to the razor and shaving cream Major Allbright had given him before he answered, "Nothing Ghost, I'm fine." Silence was the only response he received, silence didn't sit well in his stomach though. He could feel the big man's eyes even through the wood, "I'm fine, Ghost." Still silence prevailed, making him swallow hard until finally he answered, "I still can't lift this damn thing ok?"

"Can I come in?" The Lieutenant asked and rather than answer Soap just turned the handle and watched the big man push into the bathroom filling the space both figuratively and literally. Hazel eyes flicked down to the razor sitting on the corner of the sink and then back up at the Sergeant. "You want to shave," it was a statement that Soap wasn't sure if the Lieutenant had meant as a question or not, so he gave a quick nod just in case. "The mask. You aren't wearing the mask when you meet with command." Another statement that Soap is almost positive requires an answer and so again he nods. "Can't shave without the mirror, can't look at yourself in the mirror, and you don't want to look like a homeless man while you are basically being interrogated again." Again Soap nodded to which Ghost said simply, "I'll shave you." And the big man grabbed the razor in his massive hand, both of their eyes meeting.

The words were so simplistic, so matter of fact and easily said that there was no room for refusal. So he nodded and his fingers picked at the hem of the mask, a mental block now rather than a physical one, before he mumbled through the fabric, "I ca- I cannae do it myself Ghost. Can you?" And so the big man did, grabbing the hem of balaclava and lifting it until the bottom half was layered over the top. It still covered his hair and forehead but left everything else exposed to the world again. Well to the big Lieutenant anyway. He felt his pulse quicken when he stepped a little closer, a bottle of shaving cream in one hand and the razor in the other.

The next step had his breath catching in his chest until the big man stopped and muttered, "It's ok. Hold out your hand, Soap." A scarred hand reached forward slowly, unsure what he had in mind but he hadn't been wrong before. Ghost lifted the can in his hand and sprayed some into his palm, the white foam filling his palm. When the blue eyes flicked up to him heavy with confusion the big man shrugged, "Don't have to touch you if you put that on for me." The corners of Soap's eyes crinkled and the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile before he quickly rubbed the smooth cream along his jaw, covering the thick growth that had accumulated there over the past however many weeks. When he was done Ghost handed him a towel to wipe his hands off before pointing to the closed toilet, "Sit down.  And be still Sergeant, I don't want to hurt you." Soap followed the instruction, taking a seat as the towel draped over his chest and the big man went to work with expert hands.

The man worked quickly and without so much as a word, his gaze burning Soap's cheek red. When Ghost finally gave him the ok he was surprised that it was over already. A fresh towel was handed to him to wipe the last streaks of the white foam off his face. Soap didn't dare to look in the mirror, he'd lose his resolve if he did. Instead he ran a hand over the freshly shaved skin and looked up at Ghost, "How do I look?"

The big man took a moment, looking up and down his military uniform, not the formal one but his combat uniform with his last name printed on the front pocket. And then he seemed to inspect each individual feature of his face, every scar and every out of place hair. It made his cheeks go hot, being under such scrutiny from the man he'd been nearly living with for however long he'd been in the hospital was a bit unnerving. Soap sucked in a breath when the Lieutenant reached for him until he felt the mask pull off the top of his head and finally, fucking finally, the man said, "You look great Soap." It was such simple praise but it had his heart racing, some inner part of him screaming with satisfaction upon receiving a compliment from the quiet onlooker of his team.

"Thanks, Ghost," The balaclava-clad head nodded in answer. "Wish me luck aye Lieutenant? Here's hoping they stick to the shite I can remember, or they somehow jog my memory so I've got the answers they want." The big man gave a quick huff of agreement as he followed Soap out of the bathroom and across the base at the excruciating pace of a snail and the even worse pain that seared through the muscles of his stiff leg.

-------

His scream echoed from the speakers around them. Soap swallowed hard as he watched the ISR footage that Laswell and Watcher had been privy to during his capture. He hadn't expected them to just show him the footage that had been hidden from all of them. Memories were flooding back now, the bullets flying just wide of his head and smacking into the trees around him. The cacophony of dogs howling and barking seeming to come from every direction. A voice that shook with pain came through then, sweat beaded up on his brow as he listened to his own voice that sounded so foreign to his ears. He'd been so scared, he remembered that now, convinced he was going to die right then and there. Yet still he had been so focused on the mission, taking the time to send Laswell’s pictures when he had only one leg to stand on. Men fell at the fire of his sniper rifle before Laswell confirmed she had received them. Telling him, near begging him really, to leave and get out of there. People were flooding into the trees in front of him now, and that man, the dead man, asked for a favor, "If ya don't mind, tell Ghost I really did mean to have that chat yeah?"

Chat? What chat was he talking about? And why was it so important he felt the need to use what he thought were his last words to say it? Suddenly anger slapped him in the face, turning his stomach into knots and bringing a white hot rage to his memory as the loud engine of a plane roared behind him and the big man stood in front of him. Surprise was set in those hazel eyes, he'd said something. What had he said? Why did it make him so angry? His mind sifted through the pieces of his memory coming up with nothing, not a single explanation. What could that man have said to make him so pissed off? "No you don't get to do that to me. Not to me, not right now. Christ Ghost." What? What had he done? Quit telling me the aftermath, tell me what the fuck actually happened? But it was like beating a dead horse, it did nothing. The memories danced just out of reach and merely made more rage well up in his mind.

At least until a second scream came through the speakers and his eyes found the recording again watching a dog latch onto his thigh. His leg ached at the memory, subconsciously running his hand over the wounds that had been left there. His loud curse at the third dog came through then. He watched himself stop staring at a line of weapons before the animal was on his back and tearing at the flesh of his shoulder. Scarred hands shook at the memory of the pain until he balled them into fists and pressed them into his thighs, ignoring the pain that raged. It was easier to ignore pain in the present than pain in a memory it seemed. When the flash went off a few feet in front of him the connection of both the audio and video began to go in and out. The quick glimpse of a man in his memory and in the footage before the audio went out completely.

Men dragged his body into a vehicle, the video footage only becoming more stable when the man that had knocked him out had long since disappeared. The brigadier stopped the recording and turned his hard gaze back to him. Soap returned the even stare forcing himself to forget about the scars that littered his face, and thankful for the chair he'd been given. He'd barely made it all the way here and he certainly couldn't have made it through that whole video trying to stand. "Sergeant MacTavish, you've been reported by medical staff to have severe memory loss, do you recall the events I just showed you?"

Immediately he nodded with a quick, "Yes sir I remember. I remember more every day sir. It comes back in pieces."

The brigadier nodded and wrote something down before looking back up at him and asking, "Can you remember who the man was after you threw your flash? The one at the end of the video?"

Soap saw the face flash momentarily in his mind. He'd been so hard to see then as he reeled from his own flashbang. There was a hesitant nod from him until the commanding officer raised a brow and he answered, "It's hard to remember sir. The flashbang had already made my head a bit foggy."

Again there was a nod and some note taking before he launched more questions about the initial capturing and why he made the decisions he did. Whether he thought he could have done better under the circumstances and making him question everything the man in his memories had done in an attempt to get back safely. It wasn't until the brigadier asked, "And what about your captivity Sergeant? The videos have been pulled off the internet as best as we could manage but that was all we know of what was done to you. Can you tell us about the interrogation tactics used by Ilya Barandin, the questions he asked, and the answers you gave him?"

It took a moment to stop the pulse that tried to pick up. Not now, he could make it through this at least. "Yes sir. I'm unsure how long I was actually held but I do remember that I was held in a dark room. No light or anything. Subjected to temperatures below freezing for hours while wet and with barely any clothes. At least it felt like hours. In between my time in there I was in that room from the videos. He would use this chemical, I don't know what it was sir but it made you feel like fire on the inside. He used the screws," pain flared in his hands at the memory but he ignored it, "a knife, a metal pipe, and he heated up some metal one time and burned my back with it." Control was slipping through his fingers, it took every ounce of energy to keep a neutral expression on his face. Breaking down wasn't an option, not here. This was as much an AAR as it was his command trying to decide whether he could be redeployed following the trauma he'd suffered. Clearing his throat he continued, "He didn't exactly want information from what I could tell though sir. Got the feeling he didn't really need it. The only thing he asked was where Suheil was, he wanted him back and he wanted him bad sir."

The entire time he spoke the man wrote, the other two members beside the man watching him closely. He got the feeling they were judging his reactions, trying to find his trigger points and he'd be damned if they found what they were looking for. Finally the brigadier looked back up, "One last thing Sergeant." Soap nodded and sat up in his chair a bit taller before he asked, "Can you explain this video for us please?" He hit the play button again and the image of him in a hospital bed began to play. He was sitting up and staring at a woman who was throwing questions in his face. 'John,' he remembered her saying and his entire body began to sting at the name as he watched her near him in the bed until her hand neared his arm and she touched him. The warmth flooded his memory, 'No it's not happening, stay calm, keep it together.' His hand grabbed her and jerked her forward where his forehead slammed into her nose with a sickening sound.

Dry mouth and dry throat swallowed down nothing as he scrambled off the bed and then the door slammed open and Ghost's mask came into view. The big man grabbed the camera guy pulling him out of the room, before he grabbed the woman and threw her out as well. The Lieutenant seemed to notice something then and stepped closer, eyes full of rage as he stared at the man before his hand wrapped around the end of the camera. The last image the camera caught was the shocked look on both of their faces and the blood pouring down the woman's face before it shattered against the wall.

Blue eyes flicked back to the brigadier before he stammered out, "I don't know what you're looking for sir but I was just defending myself. She shouldn't have even been in that room." There was worry in his gaze, that his answer wouldn't be enough even if it had been mostly true.

The commanding officer nodded quietly as he wrote something down and flipped to the image of a man with bruises across his swollen neck. "And this one, Sergeant MacTavish?"

"Fuckin hell," brows from the entire panel rose at his curse before he looked down at his hands and took a second before answering, "I'm sorry. I had just woken up sir. I thought he was the enemy when I first came round and I acted how I was trained to sir."

The eyes watching him narrowed, trying to break through the constructed facade he had donned, "You were trained to nearly kill an unarmed man and then lock yourself in a bathroom Sergeant MacTavish."

Indignance flared in his mind, jaw tensing as a feeling of rage once more roared into his mind. He'd been sedated against his will, and woken to somebody touching his body. How was he supposed to react? Rationally? He didn't even fuckin remember who he was at that point. Don't show the anger, don't show them anything, just answer. "I was attempting to separate myself from the enemy sir. It was a hard decision to make but there were men between me and my other escape route while I had a bad leg, a bad shoulder, and my hands could barely work. It was a moment of reprieve I needed at that moment sir."

The man looked almost…satisfied? Was that satisfaction? Fuckin hell he sure as shit hoped it was a satisfying answer. Finally the brigadier answered, "Ok Sergeant MacTavish, you're dismissed. You are going to be required to speak to a psychiatrist, a psychologist, and finish out your physical therapy that you've been assigned. When you've been cleared by them you are free to return to service in the Royal Army under Captain John Price's command." That was Price's first name? It sent a shiver through his spine and it wasn't even referencing him. "Assuming you are ever cleared medically anyway. Is that satisfactory Sergeant?"

"Yes sir," the words came out in a quick sigh of relief before he stood up out of the chair and left. He would be cleared medically, a few papers were not going to stand in his way, not now.

Ghost was waiting for him outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. The memory of rage at him clouded his thoughts, why had he been so mad at the man? It didn't make sense. Ghost had been nothing but a loyal friend this whole damn time, what the hell could have possibly happened to make him so mad.

The Lieutenant stood up off the wall, head tilting slightly as he asked, "You ok?" He tried to hide it, that much Soap could see, but there was a worried look hiding in those eyes. That maybe he'd not gotten the news they were both hoping for.

No, was all he could think for a second, he felt like he'd been drained from his very soul. The emotions he'd been keeping bricked up behind the dam were aching to seep through and his throat was still dry. Rather than answer he just shook his head, he couldn't even summon the energy to speak for a moment he felt so exhausted.

Emotions flashed through those eyes that he couldn't identify before Ghost turned towards the door. His gaze was dark, hand grabbing the handle about to go and do something that they would both regret. Soap wasn't sure what it was the Lieutenant would do but he knew the way the look in those eyes made nervous energy flare up. His hand darted out, fingers wrapping around a forearm and halting the big man in an instant. Ghost turned back, eyes shifting down slowly to where Soap was holding him in an iron grip. The first time that the man had touched anyone willingly since he'd been back. It only took a moment for Soap to realize what he'd done and he pulled his hand back like he'd just touched the stove and it took a second to realize that his hand was burning. Finally he managed to croak out in a quiet mutter, "Please take me home, Ghost."

It didn't even take a second before the big man responded, "Ok." His hand released the door as he turned on his heel and led him down the hall and out the doors. It seemed the Lieutenant was breaking him out of these maddening white walls and finally getting him out into the fresh air.