#yes i hand drew all of those seals

[block-of-fish-cubes]

dear mother

[the-thing-withfeathers]

the archer’s arrow part 2 (w.a.)

are you hiding something?

part one | next part

a/n: teehee i am so sorry for the wait but i hope y’all enjoy this one <3

pairing: wednesday addams x female reader

warnings: mentions of blood & death

➶ ➶ ➶

thwip!

it was your arrow, definitely your arrow.

“go! wednesday! go!”

and your voice, definitely your voice.

wednesday gasped awake, sitting up instantaneously. she gripped her chest, bunching the fabric of her shirt up into a fist. her head turned to look at her alarm clock.

she was awake ahead of schedule but she was grateful she woke up when she did. she immediately got dressed, the stomping of her boots lining the walls of ophelia hall.

she reached your room, knocking thrice before stepping back.

you were already dressed, today was an early practice day.

“wednesday, you’re early.” you tilted your head, stepping aside to let her in anyways.

“i value punctuality.” she lied. she was getting better at coming up with them in her efforts to try and hide her true intentions from you.

a bit of her looked disheveled, like she had rushed to get there. you noticed her braid a little out of place and her socks mismatched— both black but definitely not from the same pair.

“right. well, let me finish this and i’ll be ready to go.” you took to your chair at your desk, settling back down.

wednesday noticed that there were a couple of envelopes littered across your desk. you were in the process of writing letters.

“you’re writing.” she pointed out.

“yes, wednesday. thats something i can do too.” you joked back, she remained stoic.

“what are the letters for?” she inquired.

“mainly family but also for some of my friends at the academy.”

“i understand your family lives remote but surely your friends have phones?” she furrowed her brows.

“they do, but we think letters hold more sentiment.” you clarified, scribbling more words onto the piece of parchment paper you had aquired. “and it’s always nice to receive things in the mail.” you shrugged.

“i suppose you might be right.” she agreed. you were surprised to hear her validation.

her eyes followed the ink that your pen left behind. it caught her attention particularly when you drew a heart next to someone’s name on the envelope.

you sealed the letter and then proceeded to stand, grabbing your gear from your closet. you opened the door for wednesday, allowing her to exit first.

you two walked side-by-side down to the practice range.

“did you have many friends at the academy?” she asked as you exited ophelia hall.

“many? not many. but a good handful. they were all very kind. i would love to know them forever.” you smiled, reminiscing at the memories you shared with them.

“any more than friends?” she asked, not looking at you. you looked at her with your lip curled. at the back of your mind, you questioned her curiosity about your romantic life.

“who’s asking?” you retaliated, a smirk plastered on your face. you glanced at her only to be met with a glare. you knew you would certainly meet your end if you left the question unanswered.

“yes, wednesday. i had a girlfriend.” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. it was a bit of a sore spot, this topic.

but wednesday cared not for sore spots.

“what happened?” she pryed further. why was she pushing those buttons so much?

the memories of her rejection flooded through your brain. she had no right to ask these things. you remember how the look on your face was probably the single most heartbreaking thing most of your fellow students have ever seen.

“why are you asking about this, wednesday?” you practically hissed at her.

“i’m not going to take advantage of your practice times and not get to know you.” she spat back.

“you… hm.” you paused. “i never thought i’d be answering questions from wednesday addams. you’ve changed too.”

“so answer them if my question intrigue you so much.” she continued walking at your pace.

“fine. we split up because i wanted to come back and we couldn’t do the long distance.” you answered openly. “but we’re still friends. she and i were very close, she helped me through a lot.”

you continued to stride towards the forest as wednesday simply watched you. you had someone, but were fine giving it all up to come back. the feeling opened a pit in her stomach, if only you had known what she was hiding.

—

she had taken a liking to your routines in the wilderness.

“i purposefully try to miss.”

you had told her that was the closest thing you could get to immersing yourself into your environment. murder of fauna in the nevermore woods was frowned upon, so you had to learn control.

“isn’t that counter productive?”

she asked back, but you proved her wrong. your control was incredible. nicking a squirrel by the hair of its tail, she watched the focus on your face as you tried to ensure it’s life.

“it’s harder to hunt down animals and make sure they live rather than die.”

today, she sat with a notebook. she said she just wanted to focus on writing up ideas for her novel while you practiced.

it was like she was your body double, just a shadow that lingered around while you did your thing. somehow, it worked. you felt more productive and so did she…

if she was working on her novel.

her pen glazed across the yellowed paper on her notebook. the ink morphed into the image of your bow. on paper, your body was facing the trees, arm reaching for an arrow from your quiver. wednesday captured your physique, how your body flexed with every move you made.

thwip!

wednesday did not flinch.

but she nearly did.

an arrow lodged into the tree trunk, directly above her head.

“i can literally feel your stare, wednesday. you’re making me nervous.” you teased. her eyes grew dark at you.

“try that again and you won’t have fingers to shoot an arrow with.”

you couldn’t help but smile at her empty threat. you knew wednesday more than either of you thought. you knew that she wouldn’t take your fingers, they would stay with you.

you drew your bow again, pointing an arrow straight at her jokingly.

“try me, addams!”

the statement made wednesday’s head shoot backwards, her eyes clouding over.

“try me addams!” you yelled at her. you were younger. your cheeks were fuller, you hadn’t quite grown into your face yet.

but there you were, back then, the object of wednesday addams’ affection. but she could never admit that then.

you were on your back, pinned against the ground with wednesday on top of you. she remembers this fondly, she was trying to steal back her hairties that you had stolen as a joke.

you were laughing. it was the most joyous she’d ever seen you. she didn’t know how she was getting that reaction from you.

she was reaching as you held the ties above your head, swinging your arm around to make sure she didn’t get it. she was growing frustrated.

she groaned and drove two of her fists down into your chest, robbing your body of air. you coughed as a response and caved in, handing her the hairties.

“okay addams!” you choked out, sitting up to be closer to the girl. you laughed softly, coming face to face with her. “i just wanted to play a prank on you.”

“pranks are a waste of your time. you have better things to do.” she said, standing up. “you’re going to be late for practice.” she looked down at you. you remained seated.

“they’re not a waste of my time if it means i get to spend time with you.” you said, honestly. sure, you were mildly flirting but you were geniune. wednesday didn’t know how to process the admitted desire for companionship. she returned the sentiment, but it wouldn’t come out of her.

“i’ll come to your practice then.” wednesday said, putting the hairties in her bag. “i’ll sit there and wait for you.” she held her hand out for you to take so she could help you up.

you grinned up at her from where you were.

that grin, she would have killed for it.

“deal!” you jumped up excitedly, a proud smile on your face. you took her hand to stabilise yourself.

and it was then she got her first vision of you.

you were older now. definitely older.

you were still in the forest, holding wednesday’s hand just like how you were in the real world.

your bow was in your left hand, like you had just come from battle. blood was dripping down from your ears.

you had blood staining your shirt. and it looked bad. something most people wouldn’t be able to recover from.

and it flickered between the image of your eyes crickling from how huge your smile was and the sight of you donning crimson in front of wednesday.

“wednesday!” you cried out to her, catching her in your arms.

and then she was back to reality.

“wednesday!”

a vision of a future in a vision of the past? that was new for her. her powers might have been trying to tell her something— something more urgent.

she remembers leaving you alone at practice that day, taking back her deal to you. she had to sit alone and process.

three days later, she broke your heart.

“you still get those often?” you asked, sitting her down against the tree trunk.

“of course i do.” she snapped, her conscience pounding from the double vision she just had.

“sorry, stupid question.” you said, regretfully. you sat in front of her, still holding her back to steady her. “do you want to talk about it?”

she hated how you cared.

“no.” she shook her head. “it was just… nothing. nothing important.”

“you and i both know your visions have saved countless lives, wednesday.” the way you said her name had her head reeling. “is there something we should be worrying about?”

“no… no.” she waved you off, pushing you away. you sat there nonetheless.

“okay well… are you feeling okay?” you worriedly questioned her.

“i would feel better if you stopped asking questions.”

you recoiled, knowing it was best not to provoke her like this. her heart twisted at your concern, they made her feel almost guilty for pushing you so far away.

she had broken you down slowly, she knew that now. you poured your heart into your affectionate manner, it was something that scared her.

you sat in silence, taking in your surroundings and letting her recover from the vision. you were around when she first started getting them, you knew how badly they affected her.

she almost wanted to apologise, tell you that she was sorry for snapping. but she couldn’t let you get close again.

“we should go soon, lunch is in 30 minutes.” you spoke up first, breaking the peace. she simply nodded at you, helping herself up. you followed suit, yanking the arrow you had previously stabbed into the tree out and putting it back into your quiver.

➶ ➶ ➶

you sat across from wednesday. she recalled a time you would fight for the seat beside her, but instead, you filled the space next to yoko.

“you’re already thinking about the rave’n?” you asked enid, munching away at your food in between sentences.

“of course i am!” enid jumped up. “it’s our last year here! we need to think about these things!” she turned to you and grabbed your hands.

“and it’ll be your first & last rave’n back! we have to make it good!” she squeezed your hands. you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back a smile.

“okay well, you’ll help me shop then.” you held your pinky up, which the blonde gladly took in her own.

“good! and you, wednesday?” enid turned to the shorter girl, tilting her head.

“my rave’n experiences haven’t exactly been pleasant, enid.” wednesday brushed her off. “maybe this is the year i skip out.”

“you shouldn’t. i would like you there if it’s my first one back and last one i’ll ever have.” you said, forgetting that such desires were usually turned down by wednesday.

but that was somehow enough to convince her.

“fine.” she grumbled, a contrast to the smile that was now stuck to your face.

“never thought that would be so easy. you must be the sentimental type, addams.” yoko commented. the mental image in wednesday’s head was her brutally bashing the vampire for saying that.

“do you know the theme?” you asked enid. the werewolf was finally asked to head the planning of the rave’n, she was perfect for the job.

“yup! since it’s halloween— we’re doing guts & gore!”

you swear you saw wednesday nearly crack a smile, this was right up her alley.

“and glitter!” enid added in, you were unsure if she was joking.

the joy on wednesday’s face faded slowly, you softly laughed at the change of expression.

“don’t worry, addams. i’m sure you’ll look fine bedazzled.” you joked, snickering. yoko laughed beside you.

she glowered at you, your smile persisted. did she no longer have an affect on you in these situations?

you really had grown.

“i would rather choke and die before covering myself in sparkles.” she took an angry bite of her food.

“don’t worry, wends, i’ll forgive you this once.” enid giggled. “gore is still your element, i’m sure it will be reminiscent of your first rave’n.“

“i heard about that.” you chimed in. “pig’s blood, right? maybe you can work with real blood this time, nobody seems to know the difference. and you’d probably enjoy that better.” you had said that almost too casually, it bothered her.

she was like an old book you hadn’t picked up yet still knew the insides and outs of.

“yes. maybe i will.” she answered briefly. you returned to your meal, finishing up and picking your bookbag up.

“gotta go, i have some botany homework to catch up on.” you said, turning to wednesday quickly. “did you want to join me for archery club later?” you asked.

she paused for a second, debating her answer.

“no, i can’t. i have homework i need to do in my room.” christ! why did she say that? she meant to say yes!

perhaps it was her defense mechanism, she wanted to keep you at arm’s length after what happened in the forest today. she needed some time to process.

“no worries. i’ll see you guys later!” you jogged off and waved as you left.

“is it weird hanging around her again?” yoko asked, she realised she hadn’t talked to wednesday about your return much.

“i suppose.” wednesday nodded. she had grown closer to yoko overtime, finding herself being honest towards her. “she’s changed a lot.”

“i mean, yeah. her entire environment changed in a whim. that makes you grow up.” yoko agreed. “you two seem to be getting along just fine.”

“indeed. but we can never go back to how we used to be.” wednesday tried to put up a front. “i’m sure she wouldn’t want that either.”

“given how you tore her heart in half last time you saw her? i wouldn’t put it past her.” yoko sighed, “but you can’t hold it against her forever.”

“i can and i will.” wednesday scoffed. yoko squinted at her.

“are you hiding something?” the vampire asked. yoko had an excellent talent for reading people, it infuriated the addams girl.

“no.” wednesday responded firmly, standing up abruptly and gathering her things. “i have to go. i’ll talk to you both later.”

enid and yoko shot each other worried looks.

wednesday stomped off to her room, a scowl evident on her face.

she hated this. all of it.

she hated that her visions were getting stronger, they were so loud that they were making her entire body hurt.

she hated that she would once again become responsible for saving someone, she was always thrust into the world of the weird. was it such a crime that she wanted some normalcy?

she hated you. she hated that she was forced to reject you in order to prevent your impending doom.

she hated you. she hated you for returning and making her feel things again.

she hated you. she hated that she was terrified of your death.

she hated you. she hated you. she hated you.

but she had to save you.

➶ ➶ ➶

author’s journal

okay i’m soooo sorry this took ages! and that this is relatively short! but i was in the middle of quitting my job and planning my christmas trip to see my family!

i’ll let y’all in on the reader’s powers more in the upcoming chapters but she is definitely a psychic!

i also am sooo excited for halloween!!! i’m going as wednesday this year and i also bought from the doc martens x wednesday collaboration so i’m so so keen on getting it in.

i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter & hopefully chapter 3 will be out before you all know it!

kisses xx

[glader13]

Me and the Devil

A/N: this is true form/ Heian period Sukuna x Heian period reader

“Was this your plan all along?” You asked, “To make me have your son?”

He couldn’t hide his smirk and neither could you as you rested your body on top of his, staring into his fiery eyes, hands getting lost in his pink hair. Instead of answering, he trapped you with his arms, pressing your warm bodies even closer together. You kissed his neck, moving to his jawline, before finally landing on his lips. The kiss was lazy and sweet as his tongue softly caused your mouth to open, much different from bruising kisses just moments earlier.

“Kissing isn’t an answer,” you said, finally pulling away from him, “But I’m assuming it’s yes.”

“One of them,” he murmurs, caressing your back, as you lay down on top of him, “But you had most of the plans already thought out.”

You smiled softly, your fingers lazily tracing the markings on his skin. You didn’t fail to notice how he relaxed under the touch of your fingers, as if he was holding his breath before then. You stopped tracing his markings, and held his hand, staring into the garden, wondering if this is something, or if you are a glorified servant. He treats you like something special, he acts like you are, but are you truly worth his time? Or did he use you to help expand his reign of terror? The gifts, the jewels, the intimate moments together when he calls you his or mine, have some truth to it, right?

You have never dared to say those three words, but you thought about it, each time when he fucked you delirious, the words were always on your tongue, ready to spill over. But the binding curse, he wouldn’t do that to anyone, you hoped that he did it with the intention to keep you close, forever by his side. You hoped that it was a silent act of love, of his devotion. Your back seemed to tickle from the remembrance of the light strokes of the curse being imprinted, questioning him about how it works. You remember his kisses on your shoulders and back as you sat in between his legs, a pair of arms holding you against him as the other pair drew the curse. He explained something about if he gets sealed and awakened again, you will too, no matter how far in the future, he’ll have you. You remember feeling his dark eyes on you, waiting to see how you would react as you sat in the candlelight, feeling so close to him. As if the two of you shared one breath, feeling as if your hearts were beating as one.

“To be by your side would be an honor,” you told him then, lacing your hands together, despite wanting to say something else. Now, you felt the same three words again burning into your mind and tongue, you needed to say them so you could hear them fall from his lips. You were only aware of him and how his heart was beating steadily against your body, reverberating throughout your being. You were aware of how you yearned for him, aching for a confirmation of his love.

“Do you fear anything?” You asked, those words still on the tip of your tongue, though you were still unable to tell him.

“No,” you felt his voice rumble from his chest to your body, “Why should I have to fear anything?”

You pressed further, “To lose anything, do you fear that? That something you hold onto so closely will be taken away. You don’t fear that at all?”

You didn’t notice, but his eyes did finally lower to your face, then to your hand, which was hidden by his larger one. You felt his arms shift around you as if he was trying to hold you closer, as you relaxed in his arms, waiting for his answer, “Do you?” He asked.

“With all that’s been happening,” you sighed, “Sometimes I believe that being strong isn’t enough.”

“Well,” he says, gently holding the bottom of your face, forcing you to look into his dark eyes, “It’s irrational, so stop. You don’t need to let fear control you, not when someone as strong as me controls the earth that you walk on.”

“Understood, King of Curses,” you smiled, at which he rolled his eyes.

You slowly drifted into sleep, lulled by a mixture of his heart and the constant strokes of his fingers, he thought of how he got here, with you on him. Abused by everyone because of what you could do and see, you stumbled upon his palace. He could feel the untamed power radiating from you, and it intrigued him, along with your attitude towards him. But with some time, you convinced him to help you with your anger, and he watched you kill those who wronged you. In the blood, and the chaos of your smile, your eyes bled with something that he craved, and he was taken aback. Noticing more than just your power, it was beauty in the chaos.

He thought of these moments and watched you fall asleep all with a tightened jaw. He could never tell you about the moments when irrational fear would come over him when it comes to you and your safety, to your mortality. The attacks from those who are against him, who want to kill him, have been getting stronger, and more coordinated. Involving you when they can’t get to him. These sorcerers have focused their attention on stopping his reign and any attempts of it in the future, they don’t know if the two of you could have a child, hell, the two of you don’t even know. But with your curse technique mixed with Sukuna’s, they don’t want to take that chance. Outside of spreading his bloodline, you’re no saint, the blood of your village and countless others on your hands. They have a reason to kill you.

Your techniques, what makes you so valuable and formidable, is what makes you a target, causing him to feel irrational. It causes rage to course through him when he sees you with your injuries as you would sweetly tell him to not worry. It’s why he has kept you here as he would leave for his tasks, with Uraume to watch you. He does fear losing you, and in moments like this when you’re lying so peacefully on him, is when he feels it the most. Is this what humans call love, this feeling of wanting to protect you? Is this fear love? He lightly caressed your face, knowing that he would raze the world if your heart were to ever stop prematurely, nothing would be safe from him.

He quietly chuckles to himself, assuming that this is love.

A/N: This could be a part of a larger story, so please let me know what you think ☺️✌🏾

Part 2

[del-thetiredwriter]

Mafia Au/Good luck while running away from mafia part 5

İntro, Part 0.5 , Part1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , part 4

Warnings: yandere stuff, my not too good English, mentions of death , fighting stuff, too long?..

Tags: @hrhqueenfox , @hasty-desert , @oceanside-pixie , @lianreine , @h3apm3ch4n151m , @cecilebutcher , @ayachansan , @roseapov , @randomlyappearingartist , @serenity-loves-red , @wonderlandcrown , @nightw-izhu , @moonlight-nightwing , @lorkai , @lucid-stories , @morokumi, @lloyura , @juliechi , @noemiaaomi , @eternal-ways @stingywiththeirusername , @00hellohello00 , @bougrell , @akumo-shioki , @beutifulthingsiadore, @kchan3s , @aryuunachigiri , @literallyangy , @sxftiebee

The sound of hard and fast footsteps echoed in the hallway. You suddenly opened the wooden door. The dark-skinned man sitting in the room was startled by your sudden opening of the door. However, he grinned when he saw that it was you who entered.

“Oh my little imp~ what wind brought you here?”

He opened his arms affectionately. However, you did not answer. You closed the circuit breaker of the room. Then you drew the curtains.

“Uh Y/n?”

After looking around for a while, you sat on the chair across from him.

“Please give me your phone.” You said coldly.

“Uh Y/n, you are acting really weird right now-“

You cut him off.

“Please give me your phone and any recording device you have, otherwise I am not responsible for what happens Sam-san.”

He gave you his phone in confusion. After closing up his phone , you threw the file in your hand on the table between the two of you.

“This?”

“I will be frank. We both know you sent this, Sam-san. The seal gives you away, I think you used it. To get me to come to you. Explain. Is what it says here true?”

The dark skinned man grinned. He leaned back in his chair.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

You pulled a check from your pocket and placed it on the table.

“Talk.”

The man’s eyes lit up when he saw the check.

“Oh, they really pay you well, huh? Okay, let’s talk then. Yes, I sent it and you know I do my job well, everything it says there is true.”

You clenched your teeth . You tensed up because you heard something you didn’t want to hear, but you had to stay calm.

“Someone must have asked you to send me these documents, otherwise I don’t think you would send me this just to do me a favor. Tell me, who was the client who asked you to look into these documents and send them to me?”

“Oh, my little devil, please you’re breaking my heart. I’m not that bad of a person, but yes, a client of mine asked me to look into this, but I can’t tell you who it is.”

“How much do you want?”

“Oh sweetie, I can’t answer this question even if you give me your entire bank account, I’m sorry. Another question?”

“Why? Why would they do something like that? The executives… why would they frame me? What have I ever done to them?” You were trying to control your voice.

“Well, I don’t know. No one knows what’s going through those maniacs minds. But it’s not a complete lie, I mean I’m talking about your blood relationship with that man-“

“I eliminated that man, and as my first duty! I didn’t even know about that man… until I got my hands on these documents. But I never betrayed the organization. Why?.. so who knows about the current situation?”

“So as far as I know, the executives naturally. Me, you and my Client.”

“So are you and your client on my side?”

“I don’t know about my client, but I only care about my money and of course it depends on the risk involved.”

You stood up. You adjusted your suit.

“You won’t tell anyone about our conversation today, Sam-san. Also, I have a job for you. I want you to report to me every step the executives take. Understood? if you do anything wrong-“

You took out your voice recorder from your pocket.

“I’ll drag you with me. Understood? Good. If anyone asks, I was here for the tea.”

You walked towards the door. Sam stood up at your words.

“Hey, how am I supposed to follow all of them at the same time? Hey Y/n!”

He tried to protest. You turned around before leaving.

“That’s your problem. And I’ll pay you as much as I can, don’t worry.”

And you left the information dealer alone in the room.

-

As you walked towards your office, you noticed that the door wasn’t locked. When you opened the door, you were met with Deuce. The moment you entered, the navy-haired Heartslabyul boy turned to you.

“Deuce? Why are you here?”

“Oh, hello Y/n. Trey-san made a strawberry cake. He asked me to bring it to you.”

“I see. Thank you…”

Your eyes drifted to the potted plant behind Deuce. He was busy with it until he noticed you had entered.

“By the way, how did you get in?”

“Oh, the door was unlocked.”

The door was unlocked , you thought to yourself.

“I see. If there’s nothing else, I’ll see you off. Don’t make Riddle-san mad with your absence, hmm?”

You tried to send him off.

“Oh, yeah…Right. See you then, Y/n.”

After sending the navy-haired boy away, you slowly walked towards the potted plant. You slowly started to water the plant.

You found the small black device you were looking for among the leaves. I found it, you said to yourself. Apparently there was an extra camera in your office. An unwanted camera…

- Current Timeline

“Look at the state of yourself . You’re a complete mess .” The black-haired beautiful boy criticized you.

“As if I care that much.” You replied indifferently. You were checking the cables of the machines while eating your sandwich.

“By the way, it was almost impossible to get into the city. I would like to point out that they have posted men at all the entrances and exits. How do you plan on getting out?”

The black-haired boy spoke again.

“That’s my problem Neige, just focus on your job.”

“…what exactly did you do that the entire mafia is after you right now? You’re the most talked topic in the underworld right now.”

You didn’t answer. You just focused on your job.

“Hey, I provided you with all that food, water, clothes, weapons and vehicle. Can I at least get a proper answer?”

Neige whined. But you just ignored him.

“By the way, this is an old abandoned place? What are we doing in this amusement park?”

The black-haired assassin asked.

“We’ll hunt.” You replied. You had completed the final checks by now.

“We’ll hunt? Aren’t you the one being hunted? Besides, you’re injured.”

“Just do what I said. I’ve already paid you and your boss owes me. Besides I thought you wanted to see Vil-san.”

The young assassin opened his mouth to say something but chose to remain silent.

“Whatever. Look, the plan is that either Ignihyde or Pomefiore will most likely attack. Diasomnia usually prefers to be the last one to show up . Your job is to help me escape from Vil-san, okay? It’s that simple.”

You explained your plan to him.

“They will catch you anyway. Why are you running away? Nonsense.”

You took a deep breath.

“I wish your mouth was as pretty as your face… Just do what I say, you understand.”

The young assassin shrugged and you two started to wait.

“Here they come.” You said as you watched the footage of the camera you had repaired

“You’re lucky. Vil-san came too.” You said as you cut the cable of the camera you had repaired earlier.

“Uh, why did you only fix one camera and then cut the cable again?”

Neige pointed to the cable you had cut.

“There’s a good chance they’ll split up and someone will come here to check. Anyway, let’s get to work.”

-

“So, they are hiding here?”

The Rookie assassin asked as he got out of the car.

“Mmh. According to the road records we got, yes.” The blonde sniper confirmed.

“Anyway, there’s only one entrance and exit to this place, and that’s here. Rook, you stay here. Epel, you’re coming with me.”

The Pomefiore executive said.

“I can do this job on my own-“

Epel tried to object.

“Are you stupid? Even though they are injured, Y/n was trained by Divus Crewel himself. If you go one-on-one with them, your chances of winning are very low.”

Vil stopped him.

“I don’t think there’ll be any problems. If there’s a problem, we’ll notice it through our communication devices. Let him do what he wants.”

The sniper intervened. The blonde manager sighed.

“Okay. But your communication device will always be on, is that clear?”

-

The young assassin walked forward with confident steps. What a big amusement park, he thought. He headed towards a tent that looked like a large circus tent that caught his eye up ahead. Perhaps the person he was looking for was here.

Y/n L/n is the right-hand man of Boss Crowley, the apple of eye of the executives, and according to some rumors, Crowley's heir. Before Epel met them. he found them annoying. He thought it was ridiculous that all executives were circling around one person, but after meeting them , he understood why. Y/n wasn't perfect, but there was something about them that drew people to them, something he couldn't quite put his finger on...

Y/n was affectionate, they would intervene whenever Vil would scold him or punish him. Sometimes they would bring him gifts from their business trips. They would have regular movie nights with the other rookies…but everything was ruined. Y/n ruined everything. They betrayed them...

When Epel entered the big tent, he was sure that it was an old circus tent. He started looking around… I guess they are not here, he thought to himself. He had just turned around when something fell on him from above. Someone.

The young assassin jumped back reflexively.

He was speechless when he saw the person in front of him.

“Oh, it’s just you. I thought it was Vil-san and got excited. Anyway, let’s finish this quickly.”

Neige LeBlanche. The best assassin in the underworld outside of Vil. The assassin who was always compared to Vil by many people. Just like Vil’s nickname was Poisoned Apple, Neige’s was Snow White. He was also the assassin of the rival mafia.

“So Y/n really did betray us, huh?” Epel said nervously.

The black-haired assassin didn’t answer. He just smiled…

-

Vil walked forward with firm and confident steps. For some reason, he had a feeling that the person he was looking for would be here, in the mirror maze. He stopped and focused. There were faint footsteps…they are here, he thought to himself.

He focused on where the footsteps were coming from…Clank!

“Oh, I broke the wrong mirror.” And again, and again…

The sound of mirrors breaking echoed through the maze.

And again, Clank!

You jumped back.

“Oh, I found you!” He grinned mischievously, like a child who had finally gotten a toy he had wanted for a long time.

He swung his dagger at your injured shoulder, but you managed to dodge.

“Bastard.” You said.

He grinned. You dodged as he attacked.

You could have attacked him if you wanted, but no. Vil’s goal was to distract you. You had to focus on and avoid his attacks . At least until Neige came.

Vil’s nickname wasn’t poisoned apple for nothing. He would kill his victims by poisoning them. He would also poison most of the weapons he used. So that dagger should never touch you.

You jumped back again. But suddenly Vil stopped.

“Look at you, nch nch nch… you are a mess. How much can you resist me, hmm? Besides, you are injured. If you surrender, even though you are a traitor, I can help you with your punishment. ”

“Traitor? Oh no, you are the one who betrayed. You betrayed me! All of you! I am only saving myself.” You said harshly.

Vil’s face tightened when he heard the word betrayal.

“We didn’t betray you. We just took precautions.”

You laughed unwillingly at his words.

“Precautions? Who do you think you are kidding? I heard those conversations with my own ears. Whether you accept it or not. You stabbed me from my back . I was going to be declared a traitor one way or another.”

Vil started to attack aggressively again, and you got defensive.

Where was Neige?..

Vil tried to hit his injured shoulder again, and just as you were about to retreat, a voice came.

“Vil-san!”

Neige LeBlance had finally arrived.

You backed away while Vil was distracted by the voice.

The black-haired assassin quickly attacked the blonde assassin.

“You’re late,” you said.

“Sorry, I ran into a little rookie on the way. Well, the rest is up to me. You can leave.” Neige replied.

“So you’re working with RSA, huh? And you’re saying you didn’t betray us!” Neige’s presence was more than enough to drive Vil crazy. You knew that very well. That was one of the reasons you wanted Neige. He was Vil’s greatest enemy.

You grinned and ran away from the mirror maze.

-

As you expected, you saw the blonde sniper at the entrance. He was waiting cross-legged.

He must have noticed your arrival because he stood up and smiled. There were only a few meters between you.

“It’s been a long time, huh? You have no idea how much I missed you.”

“I suggest you run, Rook. Vil obviously placed you here just in case, but I advise you not to waste time with me. I don’t know how your little rookie Epel is doing right now.”

The blonde man’s eyebrow rose at your words.

“What do you mean by ‘I don’t know’?”

You grinned to break the sniper’s composure.

“It’s true that I can’t ‘harm’ him, but who knows what an enemy assassin might do to him? If I were you, I’d hurry up and find him, otherwise…” you didn’t finish the sentence. Your words were enough to make the sniper nervous.

He looked at you one last time.

“You’ll get caught sooner or later, you know that.”

He said and walked away to find the young rookie as soon as possible.

And as for you, You got into the car you asked Neige to provide for you and drove away.

-

“Agh! You’ve got to be kidding me!” Ashton Vargos, once again frustrated, took the money from his losing bet out of his wallet and reluctantly handed it to Sam.

“It’s going pretty well so far, huh? But some people seem to be in a bad mood.” Crowley sipped his tea.

“Stop messing with Crewel, Crowley.”

Mozus Trein said.

“Trein-sensei, I didn’t do anything.” Crowley said mischievously.

“ You are truly the devil himself .” Trein sighed.

“You’re breaking my heart, Trein-sensei. I’m a real gentleman. Everyone knows that.” Crowley said, his voice wasn’t like the voice of someone who was upset, but rather a mocking tone.

“Of course, whatever you say. It's not like you killed the previous Boss and framed Ramshackle, who was the biggest threat to your seat. Now you're doing the same to them ... are you having fun?" Mozus Trein said. His voice was calm, perhaps because of his age.

"Very much. I'm having so much fun."

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Promise Woven in Silk

18/12: Letters & Lingerie Kink - Tom Bennett Word Count: 2.1k~ | Warnings: suggestive letters, masturbation (m), p in v sex A/N: thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for checking my Tom Bennett was cunty enough 🤭

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

Tom couldn't wait to be off this fucking boat.

It was a sort of slum in motion, but with the threat of being killed or drowned.

He made his own fun, practically forcing people's hands into betting on the day his canary laid an egg, pissing off the commanding officer and choosing rather colourful language when he was speaking to people of a higher rank than him. Not like he gave a shit.

But he only did those things because he was Tom.

It didn't make him really happy.

The only thing that managed to pull a smile to his face were letters with her handwriting on the front.

It felt wrong to call her a sweetheart so to speak. After all, at first there was no expectation of anything deeper, not wanting to get involved in something so trivial before he decided to disappear abroad. But it was exactly that expectation that drew him to her.

She wasn't desperate and needy. And yes, he'd tease her for it, but she was so fiercely independent, she turned her nose up at how a woman should conventionally act towards someone she liked.

He loved her for that.

He leapt onto the top bunk, checking the room was clear before pulling the sealed letter from his pocket, the paper slightly crumpled with her swirly feminine handwriting decorating the front.

Dearest Tom,

I hope you are settling into navy life well and are not causing too much trouble for the people who have the displeasure of being around you all day and night. 

He smirked. She knew him too well.

As I write this, my stomach flutters at the thought of your upcoming shore leave. I have been entirely too impatient to not tell you that I have concealed a great secret from you, one I should hope you will be pleased to uncover upon your return to me.

Picture me, with delicate lace trimming framing the curves of my body, meant for your eyes only of course. The fabric, as smooth as a moonlit ocean, holds promises of stolen moments where you are once again by my side.

I must confess, once you are back I scarcely think I could ever let you go again. The mere thought of you being here with me has a pleasant, exciting effect on my inhibitions. An effect, I dare say, you are keen to replicate.

I anticipate the shared warmth of our reunion, one I have no doubt you have sorely missed.

Yours in fervent longing…

He swore his mouth was agape, before a sly grin slipped onto his face.

Jesus Christ.

Tom's baby blues flitted over her handwriting, as if needing to commit the words to memory over and over to make certain he was reading the same thing.

His fingers gripped the delicate paper noticeably tighter as his mouth went dry.

Cheeky fucking minx.

Completely naturally, he brought the paper to his face, sighing longingly at the familiar scent of her perfume. She'd no doubt spritzed it a few times before sealing it, intent on torturing him even further as if the words alone had not done so.

Her scent flooded his mind, making way in his brain and pushing all the blood there south, his manhood pulsing almost uncomfortably at the memory of her.

The way he'd left her lingered there.

She had his white shirt around her shoulders and completely nothing else, her breasts peeking teasingly against the thin fabric as if to tempt him to stay when she knew he couldn't.

He'd almost jumped right back on her when she rose to her knees and plucked the post-coital cigarette from his lips to have a sweet, shallow drag of her own, her eyes aglimmer with mischief and sparkled with lust. 

And he's not ashamed to say that the image of her lips around the cigarette had him wishing they were around him instead. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, massaging the length that would not fit in her perfect mouth.

And so here, miles and miles from her, but unable to think of anyone or anything but her, he slipped his hand into his trousers, keeping her letter close to his face and pumped himself needily, imagining it was her grinding her hips atop him, her moist lips parted with those sounds he loved so much slipping forth.

He spilled himself over his knuckles in no time with a choked moan that he had to keep quiet.

It was sweet, sweet torture.

“Cheeky. Fucking. Minx.”

Tom practically skipped through off the train onto the platform, resisting the urge to break into a run as he played the route to her flat in his mind and how to get there the fastest.

It felt like he'd had a perpetual need for her ever since he read her words, which was more akin to pornography than an innocent love letter, having the desired effect of keeping him rock hard, fists clenched and jaw tightened.

God, she'd pay for that.

His boots thumped as he made his way up the back stairs to her flat, fists rapping on the door rapidly and excitedly, his chest feeling all tight and fluttery.

Every second there was no answer, his leg bobbed with anticipation.

Tom's tongue poked his cheek as the door slowly cracked open, a smile working its way to his face.

Her hair was waved over her shoulders, a satin dressing gown around her and tied at the middle, accentuating her waist, with her legs all bare and poking tantalisingly out beneath the rich fabric.

She herself gave a smirk, pulling the cigarette from her lips with two of her manicured fingers.

“Hello, sailor.”

Fuck, her voice.

She squeaked in surprise as Tom's tall form had to twist to force his way in, his bag forgotten to the floor with a thud, finding better purchase on her body as he surged down to meet her lips halfway. She smelled and tasted just as he remembered.

Bodies touching and smirking between fervent kisses, he mumbles between them, “Hello, beautiful.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and equally sank to that spot between her thighs that grew moist, aided by the endless weeks without his presence.

“I can't believe you sent me such racy letters. You just want to get me in trouble, don't you... and believe me you're doing a fantastic job at it.”

She hummed, pulling away to look up at him, smirking as he plucked the cigarette from her to take a drag for himself.

“You've got to have something to look forward to on shore leave, Bennett.”

He grinned with all his perfect teeth, stubbing it out once he was done with it and running his tongue over his lips.

She scrunched her nose, her hands around his shoulders as she craned up to meet his misty gaze, “in any case, I don't know what you mean. My letters were perfectly well-meaning and innocent.”

He scoffed, the smoke leaving between his pink lips, blonde eyebrows raised, “innocent? Those letters could be classified as a war crime.”

Her lips part involuntarily, warmth gathering in her gut as his hands lay flat either side of her waist.

"Now, where's my promised prize? To celebrate my return.”

She bit back a grin, her hands sliding down his chest to the tie at her front, fingers pulling it loosely unbearably slowly.

Tom swore he ascended to heaven once the silk parted to reveal what she'd promised beneath, a delicate lacy number that seemed to drift over every curve and left very little to the imagination.

 “Now that's what I call a greeting and my reward.”

His hands assisted in pushing the silk off her shoulders, leaving her standing in her silk sleepwear, the front dipping right where the shadow of her breasts appeared.

He grinned like a schoolboy, raking in every piece of her he'd been unable to see for weeks. God, maybe even months.

“You know, I almost thought you were lying in your letter and you didn't actually have this... but you surprised me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered as they both leaned in, dragging his nose over her cheekbone and placing several kisses, too chaste for his nature, along her jawline.

“I couldn't possibly do that to you, Tom.”

She giggled girlishly as his hands were now unable to stop their journey around her body, squeezing and moulding the flesh to his palm as he guided her to her bed. He stood, looking down as she lay there waiting for him with that honey-like gaze, biting her lip when she saw him work on his own clothes.

Once he got to his belt, she lifted her hands to the straps of her brassiere, to pull them down, until Tom tutted at her, kneeing her legs apart in reprimand, earning a confused expression.

He loved it when she looked all dumb like that.

He smirked, “Maybe I want you to keep it on. You look good in it.”

At this she lowered her hands, eyes glimmering with mischief as she watched him struggle with his belt.

She smiled smugly, “have you gone soft on me, Tom Bennett?”

“Soft is the opposite of what I am right now, love.”

A soft giggle slides past her lips as Tom looms above her, shoving his trousers past his hips as they snag on nothing, his eyes hardening  the more frustrated he gets. But it quickly dissipates, core clenching around nothing once he pulls himself from his underwear, hardly having to stroke himself to full attention.

His fingers creep along the side of her thigh beneath the delicate lace, swiping the pads of his fingers against her, grinning widely when he finds his words and actions have had the desired effect, her hips twitching upwards at his touch. 

“Oh, love. You’re fucking soaked for me.”

His ministrations become rough almost instantly, tugging the silk to the side and running the fat head of his cock, red and weeping against her womanhood. She watches the way his chest inflates and deflates with heavy breathing, at how the dog tag there glimmering in the low light around his neck, looking down between them, the air feeling hot and only the sounds of pure carnal desire rumbling in their throats. 

“Tom - please -”, she mewled longingly, trying to move her hips to gain friction as he teases her bud with the tip of his length. 

A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest, “God I fucking love it when you beg. What do you think, should I make you do it again?”

She shakes her head quickly, closing her eyes and turning away with a warm face at the intensity of his gaze down at her. 

He huffs another laugh and lays atop her, pushing her leg apart with his knee and pressing a kiss to her temple, “It’s alright, love, too fucking impatient for that.”

Her mouth falls open, warmth flooding her as he pushes into her agonisingly slowly, splitting her apart on his length to slide into her slick walls. Tom can’t help but screw his eyes shut, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her perfume as her warmth squeezes him and her fingernails leave crescent-moon shaped marks on his back.

He barely waits to reach the end of her before he moves, his hips meeting hers softly at first, but increasing in vigour once he hears her tiny little whimpers, and the way she presses her lips together to try and be quiet. 

Ever stubborn. 

Skin meets skin with quiet smacks, neither needing to say anything (except for the occasional ‘fuck’ encompassed by a low moan from Tom) but just basking in this closeness they’d been deprived of in all the time they’d been away. He is sure he could stay between her legs all fucking day, squeezing the flesh of her thighs and tasting her lips on his. 

“Fuck - ‘m gonna-”, he moans lowly, his hand running up the nape of her neck and pulling the strands of her hair through his fingers, not enough to hurt. Her core tightens around him, head thrown back into the mattress, lips parted. 

“oh - fuck, yes-”

With a choked moan, he takes her over the edge with him, holding her so tightly that had he been in his right mind, he’d think he was hurting her. But she doesn’t protest. She only loosens her grip on him when his thrusts falter to a stop, but his length remains tucked inside her, shuddering when he feels her core clenching around him in the aftermath of her peak.

His normal attitude clouded by the haziness sex, he rests on his forearms above her, giving an exhausted smile that she returns. 

“That the greeting you were hoping for?” she asks, her breath coming in short, hot pants.

And just like that, the Tom Bennett grin returns, leaning down to capture her lips again, “Yes, but I’m not done with you yet.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

[mountkennedie]

Siren

Prince Caspian x mermaid!reader

Summary: Caspian goes on a late night stroll and gets intercepted by a mermaid

warnings: none

The reader has long hair, other than that, there aren't any character descriptions

A.N. I have been thinking about this so much over the past few months omg

Being a prince, Caspian had many responsibilities. But being a human, he needs to escape from those duties from time to time. What seemed to calm his mind the best was a late night stroll on the coast of Cair Paravel.

Due to the full moon, the sands glitter in a way no gem could ever replicate. He thought the only thing that could compliment the beauty of the sparkling sands was the illuminated water. Just standing there, Caspian felt the stress lifting off his body. The salty sea air was always something he was a fan of. The feeling of its breeze through his hair only made the entire scene that much better.

There were some rocks along the coastline. He would normally not pay them any mind. However, when an unusual sound emitted from them, his head whipped around. His eyes scanned to find a pair looking back at him.

He drew his sword immediately, pointing it at the creature. "Who are you," he questioned. All sorts of things can exist in the lands of Narnia, and anything that would be out at such an hour is one of suspicion. Especially one that already had its eyes set on him.

The creature shied behind the rock. From a different angle, she peered back at him. The moonlight glazed her skin in an ethereal glow, and before the prince realized, he had taken a few steps towards her. "Call me, Y/n."

Her voice was smooth and soft. He felt himself begin to drift away in it. He took yet another step closer, now only a yard or two from the rock she hid behind. With grace and caution, she climbed the large stone until she reached the top. She rested on her forearms, now at eye level with the prince.

Caspian's eyes took in the new view of her. She wore nothing on her upper half, relying solely on her flowing hair to cover her frame. His breath began to shallow, never in his life had the prince seen a woman in such an ease of wardrobe. He used his extensive self-control to bring his focus back to her eyes. And her eyes were another pool to fall into. Everything about this mysterious woman was holding him captive, and he could not figure out why. Nor did he want to put up any resistance.

"And yours?" She spoke once again in a voice of velvet. He almost didn't register that she said anything at all.

"Hmm?" He hummed. In any other context, he knew it would be rude to simply hum instead of coming up with the words to say what he meant. But in this moment, his brain was taking on more and more fog with every second he was near her. He was not focused on being the well-mannered prince as he always was.

The woman smiled, "Your name, dear sailor."

"Oh, yes," his voice was breathy. The smile she provided him only worsened his condition. The fog in his mind had crept to the rest of his body. He hadn't even realized he was up against her rock. "Caspian. And I'm not a sailor, I'm a prince." Every word that he could conjure came spilling from his lips. He wanted her to speak again, smile again, anything. It was astonishing how quickly she had gotten him under her finger.

"A prince." She maintained her smile as she reached a hand out and touched his chest. "I would have thought as much. You wear the finest of leathers." Her hand stayed on his chest. And he made no effort to remove it.

He hummed again in response. He wore a smile on his face that proved how removed he was from sanity. She moved her hand up over his heart, his hand came and met her there. The warmth of his palm sealed her to him.

"Would you like to see the rest of me, dear prince?" She spoke in a whisper. He only nodded in response. She smiled once again and lifted her tail out of the water. She allowed herself to wrap a bit around the rock to make sure the moon made her scales shimmer.

He gasped, and she looked back at him. At first, I was nervous that she had scared him off. But he only stared. His eyes soon traveled back up to hers, and his pupils were completely blown. She knew she had him.

"You are most beautiful," his voice was airy. His breath steadied, and his eyes were trained on hers. With her other hand, she placed it on the right side of his face. He leaned into the touch and, for a moment, allowed his eyes to shut.

"As are you, dear prince."

How it happened was simple. She held onto him as she descended the rock. Held his hand from the shallow water, deeper and deeper. Until the water was too high for his feet to hit the bottom. And before she dragged him to the depths, an idea of mercy came to mind. He was a prince and a handsome one at that. Maybe something could brew between them. So she kissed him and filled his lungs with the new ability to no longer rely on air. Then, drug him down underneath the waves.

[nilsavatar]

DAY 8 - VOYEURISM

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, SMUT in the end, voyeurism, mimicked intercourse (Neteyam and reader copy everything Jake and Neytiri do), blowjob, face fucking, rough, dirty talk, degradation, breeding kink, commitment relationship, dom-Jake, sub-Neteyam who turns in a dom-Neteyam later on, slight mention of claustrophobia, mention of KirixSpider. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Jake and Neytiri are out for their periodic date night. Neteyam is supposed to look after Tuk, but Aywanin (reader), thanks to Kiri's involvement, manages to convince him to sneak away to have their own personal date night. One rule: no ikran. To avoid detection, they travel a secret passage in the rock tunnels of High Camp that would have taken them out of Mons Veritatis, but something bars their way. Or rather, somebody.

Word Count: 4k

Masterlist - Request a fic

“Oh, come on!” “Aywa,” his tone was one of warning, but a pleased note ruined the intent not to make her press further with her risky request. “I promise you won't regret it.” She looked up at him through long black lashes, her face tilted to one side, her lips parted in an unmistakable, allusive smirk. Neteyam shook his head in amusement, no longer able to restrain himself from smiling back and meeting her gaze with equal expectation. He drew her into an embrace. Their arms circled each other's waists and the tips of their noses rubbed together. He inhaled the sweetness of the balm she used to wash herself. It enveloped her, exuding a luscious aroma reminiscent of nectar, with hints of amber that accentuated the natural fragrance of her skin, leaving him at a loss for words to describe it; it was simply her. He would have been able to recognize her scent among a thousand. Even if he lost his sight, hearing, or memory, he was sure it would bring him back to her.

The two looked at each other in complicity, their foreheads leaning against each other. "How do we deal with Tuk?" he asked, unable to let go of his diligence altogether. The obedient good-boy. A side of him that could greatly irritate her, but concurrently, it contained goodness, protectiveness, and a sense of duty that was the key to her love for him. How could she not love a man like that, after all? Someone who would make her feel guarded and respected? Always attentive and understanding, he was like a gentle guide, ready to coddle her but also willing to steer her in the right direction if needed. As should have been the case tonight, yet the inclination to give her everything she wanted prevailed, to give in under those pleading but cunning eyes. His greatest weakness — and undoubtedly the prospect of a spicy night was playing its part.

Neteyam was still a man. Perfect, but just a man.

“I’ve already talked to Kiri. She’ll take care of her.” “You talked to Kiri?” he stared at her in amazement, stepping back a little, but not enough so that he no longer felt the warmth of her body. His large hands anchored on her arms, unable to resist sinking his fingers into her flesh, from tasting the smooth skin. Aywanin bit her lower lip with a mock guilty air. She blinked a few times before running her fingers over his pecs, then his abs, and finally entwined again behind his back. Clinging to him until she felt the beginning of a bulge press against her abdomen. The skin flushed where the nails lightly scratched their path. “I knew you'd back off otherwise. I had to pre-empt.”

“Smart move.” “I learned from the best," she teased.” “It's pretty odd that she actually said yes to babysitting Tuk. You know how she is.” “Let’s say we struck a deal.” The wry grin that crippled her mouth sent a shiver down his spine. Shivers of pleasure, because it drove him crazy when she brought out her nasty side. “Is this related to Spider?” “Uh-huh, no way. My lips are sealed. Girls’ secret.”  “It's like you answered me, you know?” “If you make assumptions I don’t confirm, that’s all that’s left...” she rose on her tiptoes to reach his mouth, on which she blew into it, “... assumptions.” “You have a knack for making things go your way.” He asserted, not missing the opportunity to gather both buttocks in his broad palms playfully and blow her a flying kiss. “No ikran, got it?” “It’s not like I wanna get us caught, silly,” she giggled, satisfied with her own success.

Who would have guessed that even his parents would not venture out into the night sky for a flight?

Sneaking out of the village was easier said than done, especially after the return of the RDA and chiefly when you were close to the olo’eyktan family. Security had increased significantly since the clan had moved to the Hallelujah Mountains, with a patrol always stationed at each entrance. However, within the labyrinthine caves, a secret dwelled - a concealed passageway known only to them.

Lo'ak used it as a means of evading their parents and exploring the forest.

“This way,” Neteyam whispered to keep his voice from booming and offered his hand. For the first time that evening, he read hesitation on the girl’s face, normally unfamiliar with apprehension.  “It gets a little tight up ahead, but we'll pass through in a single line. And then, the passage leads to a secret chamber that connects to another hallway, and we'll finally be outside.” He threw her an encouraging smile, “You trust me?” She smiled back, “Yes.” Stealthily and guided by luminescent larvae that colored the massive limestone walls a pale blue, directing them through the otherwise dark and asphyxiating corridor, the two made their way watching out for stalactites and stalagmites that threatened to trip them up or, worse, leave their heads in them. Walking under that semblance of a starry sky was a captivating experience, truly breathtaking. Aywanin wished to stay there longer, but each additional minute meant sacrificing their personal delight.

They noticed a light up ahead that grew stronger with each step, filling the air with a loving glow and beckoning them closer. Moonlight filtered through the mouth of the cave. The path out led to sturdy roots, which they would climb to reach a lush glade growing atop the giant boulder that now served as home to the Omatikaya. A place of rare beauty, especially during the enchantment of the night. The girl felt a warm sensation spread through her as her lips curved into a smile. They were finally out; the chances of being caught red-handed were minimized. Regaining the playful spirit that had driven them there, she pulled Neteyam by the arm to encircle his neck with hers and glued her mouth on his in a messy kiss. It caught him by surprise enough to make him stumble over his steps and slam his back against the jagged wall. A sigh swallowed his moan of pain when Aywanin ran her tongue past his tooth line.

Neteyam, driven by her resourcefulness, leaned down and wedged his forearms behind her knees, anchoring her securely to his waist, when she gave herself the momentum to pounce on him. Her heels crossed behind his hips, positioned in the small but obvious, symmetrical, lateral depressions in his lower torso that seemed to be designed specifically for that. Earthlings called them ‘dimples of Venus,’ taking their cue from the goddess of Physical Glee and Love of an ancient cult in their world. It was a name Aywanin liked; an apt association. As faithful as she was to the Great Mother, she had to admit the sensuality of that particular spot on their bodies could only be a detail born from the mind of a deity devoted to love, desire, and passion.

The young warrior gave himself the push to break away from the rough, sharp surface, rotated on himself, and slammed her against it. Pleasantly painful, the impact forced her to break their effusion with a hiss. His gaze carried a hint of disapproval, softened by the familiar gleam in his eyes that deepened the color of his iris. His eyes, usually a piercing cold yellow, with just the right hint of vibrant green akin to a lime peel, morphed into a mesmerizing shade of honey gold.

“We’re almost there,” he exhaled, his warm breath gently brushing against her face. “I'm loving it here. Isn't this place so … suggestive?” “Too risky. We'd be totally busted if someone showed up.” There was nowhere to hide. “You said this is a secret passageway known only to you and Lo’ak.” “Yeah, but —.” Aywanin hushed him by laying her index finger to seal his lips. “No one's gonna drop by. It's the middle of the night. C'mon, take a look. It's so pretty here.” It looked like a Martian landscape: rocky, inhospitable, and rugged, with a magnificent sky to witness their love. Although their stars were the glowworms with which they faced Unitarol. "Why not switch things up and try something different?” she asked, winkingly. Again, that expression that sometimes he wanted to tear away, but most of the same made his knees go soft, and his saliva thicken into a rump. “You will be my downfall,” he accused with a smile. “I am your downfall.”

Holding her tightly, Neteyam followed the veins that marked the rock where rainwater seepage led to a depression in the innermost part of the underground chamber. A place secluded enough for no one to surprise them, and of ideal acoustics to hear her chant his name over and over again like a prayer.  Aywanin knew how to put a strain on his balance as he walked, being careful where he put his feet. Her kisses and bites were distracting because of the tremors they caused throughout his body. But Neteyam was a man of iron will; he would not give in to the temptation to take her there, in a chalky rock corridor. No, he would lay her down on the nice moss that covered the moisture-laden stone pavement, at the spot where the luminescent larvae had the most prolific colony. So many trails and shimmering dots on par with constellations in the celestial vault.

Perhaps if they had not been so immersed in their frolicking. In the hard kisses that wanted to suck the air out of each other’s lungs, in the scratches along his back, in the marks between her neck and shoulder. Perhaps they would have noticed sooner the low moans that echoed from the depths of the cave. More and more frequent and high-pitched, until one of them culminated in a louder shriek.

“Ma’Jake!”

The tips of Neteyam’s ears clicked like toy soldiers, and he urgently crouched down behind the largest boulder he could find, with still Aywanin clinging to him, shielding her. “Teyam?” she asked in a daze, but he quickly signaled for her to stay quiet by raising his index finger. “What is it? What’s going on?” she whispered then. Without a word, he lifted himself up just enough on his ankles to peer over the edge of the rock.

The clan only had one Jake, and only one person could appeal to him in such an intimate manner.

Neteyam stifled an expletive, shrugging her off to slide seated against the wall, where he slammed the back of his head. “My parents are here.” “Your parents?! You said this passage—.” “Guess it's not as secret as we thought.” “Why are they even here?” He cast her a look that was both eloquent and pleading. Don't make me say it out loud, please. “Date night.” He simply stated, and the girl's eyes squinted wildly. She was shivering with cold sweat. By now it was too late; they could no longer escape without them noticing. All they could do was wait for them to... finish.

Jake had nailed her to the wall in a voracious kiss as he trudged to unfasten the flight leggings that veiled her legs. His fingers slid over the perforated details of the leather fabric and up her calf, then over the knee that grazed his pelvis. What was left of their clothes soon scattered on the floor. Sucking the breath from her lungs, his wet kisses lingered on her lips, letting the desire to be taken dig into her skin and creep ever stronger. He lifted her off the ground, lacing her ankles behind his back and sliding to his right. She was unbalanced for a second for lack of support, but Jake was ready for that eventuality as well.  “No way I’m going to drop you,” he whispered laughingly, continuing to a deliberately bumped obstacle. He set her down on a hard surface and the woman brought her hands behind her, bracing herself on what must have been a deformation of the rock face. Before she could speak, her mate bit the back of her shoulder. A wave of strong ardor washed over her flesh, and she could not help but rub herself against him, moaning Jake’s name. His bites were wild and fervent and made her legs soft.

A strange heat spread through Aywanin as she stared at the scene in astonishment, unable to look away. It was bewitching. Every flap of skin flushed, every nerve ending awakened. The senses heightened; especially the touch that grew impatient and the sense of smell yearning to register any detail of the pheromones that characterized them. So unique, so theirs.

“Why didn’t we start like this right away?” The olo’eyktan whispered between kisses. “Someone here didn’t even want to go out tonight. He was tired,” Neytiri reciprocated with all the passion she possessed. “What a bad person.” “Horrible.” “This horrible guy gonna bang you so well that you will forget even your name.” He swallowed her tongue again, his arms wrapped possessively around her. 

The kiss lasted an eternity.

It was strange to see Neytiri so vulnerable. The image of the woman in her head was very clear: proud, beautiful, and imperturbable. But in her husband’s hands, she shattered and became malleable like soft clay. It was as if she lost what she was in that state. Warrior, mother, tsakarem. Only the woman remained, and so did Jake. For the first time, the girl’s eyes rested on their figures without seeing what they represented, and this triggered something in her. As if the two lovers had pressed a button inside her, lit a fire that burned away everything else. Without looking away for an instant, she reached for Neteyam’s loincloth and unfastened it. Despite the soft thud it made, the sound of his parents' cries overpowered any potential echo.

The boy was about to ask her what the fuck was going on in her mind, but the grip on his throbbing member cut off his breath. “No. No, Aywa, stop!” he yelled in a murmur, but she took to pump him undaunted. Up and down along the shaft, preening the base more and more, and teasing his slit at the tip as she knew he liked it. “We can’t leave without them noticing us. We might as well make the most of this experience and get a free lesson in a fortunate marriage.”

Marriage. It was a recurring theme lately. Or rather, it was a topic Neteyam often brought up, ready to culminate in their long courtship, their dream of love. Yet Aywanin had never been too open about it, leaving the question undetermined, although the answer would have been simple. They just had to set a date. This was the last of the situations in which he would have predicted her to open the subject of her own accord.

Were they indeed going to discuss it now? With his parents’ moans in his ear, their bodies entwined in his peripheral vision, and his fiancée's hand jerking him off to top it all off?

“I want to learn whatever it takes to make you happy.” “You already make me happy.” “I want you to be happy forever. That you choose me all your life like your father chooses your mother every day.” “I wish the same.” “Then let’s make the most of it. There is no better example than them,” she smiled like a fox.

They mimicked as far as possible everything they saw their unsuspecting mentors doing.

“Open.” heard Jake say, out of breath. “W-what?” “Your legs,” his voice was an octave lower, “Show me what you’re hiding.”

Aywanin swallowed hard as Neteyam positioned himself between her own legs. She didn't think the young man would get involved in such a perversion. Normally, he was the sweetest man in the world in bed. He cuddled her by whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Their bodies swayed together as they listened to the ticking of the bedposts and the rustle of the wind beating against the roof of the hut. But he could also be imperious and rough, aware of how much she liked a little force between waves of bliss. And that was just a taste of what he planned to do within minutes as he listened to his father’s words as if they were direct orders.  The perfect little soldier.

Watching him participate in the game was an ecstatic experience that words cannot capture. The satisfaction that inflamed her insides was so enveloping that it stunned her, leaving her with a single, powerful conviction, a blaze of lucidity impossible to extinguish except with the roar of orgasm.

She was responsible for his transformation. She uncovered his true essence.

And what could pass for dominance was, in reality, nothing more than submission to the drives that he was so distressed to drown; but when he was with her, they resurfaced and obscured reason, erasing the hardness of his nature. The only thing that mental state allowed to keep hard was the long, heavy cock that now contracted against his belly.

She shuddered under his gaze, the coils in her stomach tensing. He knew she didn’t want it to be gentle, not after coming all that way at that time of night. She didn’t want him to be respectful, right now, with this amount of desire burning inside her. If this was a way to please her, even if it was out of his character, he would do anything to fulfill her dirtiest dream. 

They turned to look at the other couple. The mischief in Jake’s eyes was quickly replaced by impatience when Neytiri didn’t indulge him. “I said, open,” she lifted her chin, feeling weak under the superiority of his gaze. “Are you pretending to be shy?” he spat. Nonchalantly, she opened her legs, allowing a glimpse of her folds, wet and glistening. “You can do better than that. Spread.” He ordered as he reached out a hand, tightening his fingers around her ankle, and yanked her forward until she slid off the boulder. She gasped in surprise, her shins dangling over the edge as he cupped her mouth with one palm and pinned her thigh with the other. His grip was never too strong to leave a mark. He loved her too much to hurt her.

He forced her to extend them as far apart as possible, exposing her squirming hole to hungry eyes.  “Look at you,” he said, as he traced the folds with his fingertips. “You’re soaked.” He slipped two digits into his mouth, smeared them with saliva, and brought them back down to slide over her clit. Without warning, he pushed them in, spinning them upwards and she gasped. He removed his fingers, only to put them back in his mouth and taste her on his tongue. He kept his eyes on her as he emitted a little mumbling around his phalanges. His smile was salacious.

Asserting that Neytiri enjoyed being taken in that indelicate way because she loved suffering itself was inaccurate. On the contrary, she knew how to turn out to be extremely proactive. Sometimes a spark would inflame within her, propelling her to seize control with a calculated and ruthless determination, detached from her usual self, solely driven to instill despair in him. But most of the time, she loved the feeling of being able to melt into his powerful arms. The realization that he knew exactly whatever weakness she had and turned it to his advantage sent her into raptures.

Aywanin was on the verge of saying his name when he tightened his grip around her throat and groaned into her lips as he burned her with a peck. His tongue slipped between her teeth, moving in a mad dance against her writhing one. The clamp around her neck was tight, his hand and his kiss choking her simultaneously.  When he let go, Neteyam’s face hovered over hers, letting her savor the fresh scent of his breath. “Consider yourself lucky that I love you so damn much to give you what you want,” he remarked as he plunged his digits in. A shudder ran through her like a shot of adrenaline that melted her in his grasp, her lips parted in a choked sob. 

The other man kissed his woman once, softly, languidly, but when he dragged his lips to her ear, his voice was dangerously arousing, “Do you want me to fuck you here and now?” “Y-yes,” she pleaded at his mercy. He purred, a small smirk pressed against the skin under her earlobe, pleased by such abandonment. Removing his hand from her larynx, he cupped her jaw until her lips puckered. He was only a breath away when he hissed, “First things first, you'll have to do a little something for me.” He stood up before her, staring at her through impossibly black lashes. She yearned so much for him to touch her, but even without speaking, Jake could already tell. 

“On your knees,” he commanded, but she was too overwrought to obey immediately. He laid her on the ground, wonderfully aligned with his pelvis, “Do you want me to do it or do you think you can give pleasure to your husband?” he taunted her, poking her right in the self-esteem: a challenge. A proud grin colored his face as she settled better on her knees, a glint of ardent stinginess crossed her golden eyes. His thumb tucked into her mouth and rubbed his tongue, his fingertip pressed against her taste buds. Jake’s gaze lit with lust as her lips sealed around his finger, mimicking what she would do next. Withdrawing his hand, he returned to caress her chin, raised to look him straight in the eye. Those sharp, criminal eyes, and he rearranged her hair haphazardly so that it would not be in the way. 

She, though a little trembling, kissed him on the tip, letting him know the softness of her lips before her tongue came into play.  “Look how docile you are, just a little bitch.” The girl squinted. Neteyam was different. Rougher. The sweetness and romance that characterized the affection of his actions had vanished; he was doing the opposite of what he usually did. She had never yet seen this side of him. His mouth's inclination towards dirty talk didn't shock her, but he never insulted her. She was intoxicated by the electrifying novelty, as if under the influence of a powerful drug. The blood rushed all southward as she looked at him surreptitiously, so yielding prostrate at his feet, kneeling like a worshipper before her god. “Use that long tongue of yours.” She obeyed, giving him little laps on his crevice as she pumped him with one fist. He snorted, immensely pleased at her meekness. This wasn’t Neteyam. It appeared a demon had pilfered Neteyam's face and put it on.

Aywanin dragged her lips to one side, tracing the raised veins with her tongue. “Good. Now open.” Her mouth parted in a gasp and he slammed his shaft against her full lips, pulling back her arranged tail when she did not move in the desired rhythm. Her muscles adjusted to the intrusion and Neteyam wasted no time, in one attempt he thrust fully into her cavity, reaching up to strike the back of her throat. Her eyelids closed, soft whimpers muffled on her epidermis. Her glittering reddened eyes barred as she struggled to breathe, and struggled to hold up his hard irises, but the disparaging smile that made him look like a reprobate got the better of her; it was so tyrannical it was almost frightening.

Seeing how her features altered as she savored his length, how her eyelashes became tear-drenched and a vivid erubescence colored her cheeks, was the most heavenly sinful sight he could imagine. The way she sustained his piercing glance, the way she repressed the instinct to puke when the tip struck the base of her larynx, past the uvula. He nullified the remaining space, pressing her nose against his pelvis and blocking her airway for a few seconds before releasing her. She coughed for air, choking on her own saliva.

Jake lowered himself down to his spouse's level, wiping away the salty trails that joined her eyes to her open mouth. His thumbs caressed her flushed cheekbones, forcing her to meet his gaze as he set her back on her feet, turned her around, and leaned her against the rock.  “You won’t have any peace. I won’t slow down until I have stuffed you. I’ll give you yet another of my kids.” The gentle touch he shook her hair with broke the tension for a moment. That genuine concern in his voice and in his eyes. “Just take me and shut up,” Neytiri playfully rolled her eyes, and he returned it. Four children were more than enough.

No one would engage in further conversation; instead, they would delve into each other’s boundaries within the cave, with no chance of retreat. The dragon had been awakened.

“Your parents are funking hot.” “Do. Not. Say. It. Ever. Again.”

Aww poor boy, he’s traumatized now.

Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

[berenwrites]

Closure - Stranger Things - Steddie - G

Rating: G| cw: blood | tags: post season 4, eddie lives, fluff no angst

Prompt: Love is having hope for the future together (acasualcrossfade)

A/N: Written for @steddielovemonth day 12. Sorry I have missed so many days – had lots of ideas, just no umph to actually get them on paper. Feeling more creative today. Enjoy!

Also on AO3 | All My Other Stranger Things Fic

Closure: Rifts & Reactions

Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand as it was offered and let the other man drag him out of hole they had both been in only moments before. He could barely believe it as he staggered to his feet and the fissure behind them groaned as it closed.

“Teams sound off, over,” came over the walkie slung across his back in Dustin’s urgent tones.

“Team 1, all safe, over,” came the first response from Hopper.

“Team 2, all safe, over,” was the second from Nancy as Steve pulled the walkie round to the front.

“Team 3, all safe, over,” he said, as clearly as he could.

He looked at Eddie, battered, bruised, filthy, just like him, and he couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of his throat. It was over, really over this time. Vecna was dead. All his monsters were dead. The Upside Down was sealing itself off without his influence to keep the gates open. And they were all alive.

“Finally losing it, Sweetheart?” Eddie asked as Steve laughed so hard his legs gave out.

He was exhausted, had a three-groove gash across the front of his left leg, luckily not too deep, and he ached all over, but he couldn’t stop laughing.

When they had gone in, Team 1 containing El, to confront Vecna head on, Team 2 to distract as many of Vecna’s monsters as possible, and Team 3 to take out the lab in the Upside Down that had machinery in it Vecna had been using to keep open his gates, Steve had mentally given them about a fifty percent chance. That they had all come through it alive and kicking was simply amazing.

Eddie sat down next to him.

“It’s over,” he said, unable to keep the wonder out of his voice. “It’s finally over.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, smiling at him.

If the rifts closing hadn’t been a huge giveaway, there was something in the air as well. It was as if a weight had been lifted. Maybe a psychic one had been.

“You’re still bleeding though,” Eddie pointed out.

The wounds were oozing a little thanks to all the vigorous movement, but it wasn’t much, as far as Steve could tell.

“Can I kiss you,” was what he decided to respond, gazing into Eddie’s eyes, and watching them go wide and shocked, “please,” he added.

Finding Eddie wandering around the evacuated trailer park in a fugue state had felt like a miracle at the time. His reaction to it had given Steve a clue that he had become more attached to the metalhead than he had admitted to himself before that. Then helping nurse Eddie back to health and to his old self had only deepened the fledgling feelings.

They’d all been focused on only one thing though: defeating Vecna, so he’d put all those things on the back burner. Even when he was pretty sure he’d seen Eddie looking at him the same way, he had pushed them down because there was too much to do.

There wasn’t any more.

“Yes,” Eddie said, and now it was him who sounded like he couldn’t quite believe it.

Steve leaned in, just lightly touching his lips to Eddie’s. It was Eddie that grabbed him by the straps on his combat jacket and pulled him in for a much deeper kiss. Steve revelled in it. They both tasted of ash, but he didn’t care. He never wanted to stop kissing Eddie if he could help it. It was only when a groan was forced from his mouth, and not in a sexy way, when he made a move that had his leg complaining loudly that Eddie drew back.

“More later,” Eddie said and took the walkie from his hand, pulling the strap over his head. “This is Team 3, over.”

“Central here, over,” Dustin’s replied instantly.

“Could do with a pickup,” Eddie said, “Steve’s hurt. Bikes are a no go, over.”

They hadn’t wanted to be seen on the way in, so they’d biked to their entry point.

“Bad?” Dustin came back, completely forgetting the ‘over’.

“No worse than usual,” Eddie replied. “He had to make sure he has some more badass scars, of course, over.”

“This is Team 1,” came over the walkie from Hopper. “Can swing by and pick you up once I’ve dropped off my lot. How urgent is it? Over.”

Steve took the walkie back.

“I’m fine,” he said, giving Eddie a look for worrying everyone, “I just can’t pedal. Over.”

“Got it,” Hopper returned. “Sit tight, I’ll be with you soon. Over.”

“Will do, over and out,” Steve responded.

“This whole kissing thing better not be due to blood loss,” Eddie said as Steve put the walkie down.

“Nope,” he replied, “that just made me brave. Want to kiss some more?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll kiss you forever if I can,” Eddie replied.

“I’ll keep you to that,” he said with a smile, leaning back in, but making sure he didn’t do anything stupid with his leg this time.

All My Other Stranger Things Fic

[softagenda]

until my bones crack and become dust (vere)

vere x reader(f)

canon divergence - new meeting, mates, senobium captured mc

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Preview

“Begin the experiment. Present the mate candidate.”

“Specimen 394. Recent traveler to Eridia. Arrived two days ago, requested assistance from the curse breaker division.”

_______________________________________________

“Come, Vere.” 

Hilda unhooked the back of his collar with a quick twist of wrist. With a languid stretch, Vere straightened from his lean against the wall and brushed the back of his clothes. The pressure of the seal eased on his body, allowing just enough slack on the chains to breathe a little easier. He followed after her, already bored at the prospect of another hunt. “Lowtown today?”

“In the afternoon, perhaps. It’s the first Thursday.”

It took a moment for him to remember the significance of that. “Oh, right. That.” Vere yawned as she led the way down three more hallways, then a locked door in the heart of the tower. Once inside, they descended a hundred steps before arriving at the cold dungeon. 

He squinted in the painfully bright lights and clinical white walls, his tail tucked and still against his back. Never liked the place. He’d spent several decades there before as the mages experimented and dissected various parts of his body. Nowadays, after those fruitless years, they only ever brought him down to monitor his health and the seal’s impact on his organs. 

And the first Thursday of each month.

Hilda nodded at several mages as they passed, before pausing at a door in the middle of the hall. She drew a six pointed star across the front, her finger tracing a prismatic glow, then opened the door. “I’ll be back in an hour. Don’t cause trouble.”

Vere rolled his eyes and sauntered inside. 

The room was small, lined wall to floor in simple stone, and devoid of all furniture except a single chair in the middle of the room. The wall on the right looked into a second examination room through a sheet of warded glass. On the other side stood a single, steel table with iron cuffs at the side and foot.

A mage entered after him and stood by the window, facing him, her clipboard balanced on her hip and taking notes with a quill.

“Would it kill you to put a decent chair in here? A footstool, at least.” With a huff, Vere sat in the wooden chair and crossed his legs. His chin propped on his knuckles, he settled in for the brief show and the nap that would undoubtedly interrupt it.

Within minutes, the door in the other room opened and three people shuffled in. 

Two Senobium mages in pristine white uniforms dragged a prisoner onto the steel table. The woman swayed, her knees buckling, unable to stand. Drugged. Still, she resisted more than most of them did, her hands - bandaged, oddly enough - swiping sluggishly at their faces before they’d snapped them in the cuffs. 

Her hair spilled over the table’s surface, shining beneath the offensively bright mage lights. The prisoner twisted in the bonds, her eyes swiveling around the room, hazy and confused. She had a pretty face beneath the gag in her mouth: thick lashes, full lips, soft skin. The thin, prisoner’s gown left little to the imagination, her soft curves and lithe muscle bunching as she writhed.

He felt the barest twinge of pity for her, knowing what was to come and the pointless cruelty of it. 

Vere watched, his face a mask of indifference beneath the mage’s scrutiny. He met her gaze before glancing behind him with a scowl. “Must we continue this?”

“Yes.”

“The outcome will not change. Hasn’t the hypocrisy made a dent in that sanctimonious superiority yet?”

Her face turned stony. She ignored his question, her hawkish gaze on his face.

“You could at least provide refreshments for this. How am I meant to enjoy the show without wine or fruits?” Vere purred, shifting his finger to hold his temple. He withheld a smirk at her pinched expression. 

“Begin the experiment. Present the mate candidate.”

“Specimen 394. Recent traveler to Eridia. Arrived two days ago, requested assistance from the curse breaker division.”

That peaked his interest. Vere looked back, his eyes narrowing on the woman before settling on the bandages. Hmm. His senses were somewhat muffled by the stone and glass separating them, but he took a long, quiet breath, scenting the air.

Leather and dust. A dash of something metallic, steel or blood, he couldn’t distinguish. A sharp, smokey smell - the scent left by a lightning strike. Inhuman. Ancient magic . And something… sweet. 

Flowery and ripe, tangy. A fresh peach.

His hindbrain awoke in a sudden, disorientating flash of clarity.

Vere blinked, his body held perfectly still. His heart, normally responsive only to the prospect of a good hunt and a fresh meal, picked up in his chest. This human’s smell. There was something - different about it. 

He huffed and forced his body to relax, his tail wrapping around the back of the chair. A yawn earned him a flat look from his guard, even as his mind shuffled through rapid fire explanations and suspicions.  

Vere took another long, deep breath. His senses latched on to that fruity after taste, saliva pooling in his mouth. Was it the magic, or the evident suffering that had deeply scarred the woman’s soul? Both could affect the taste of the flesh and spirit, but he’d never encountered one so… sweet.

In the other room, one mage withdrew a knife from his coat pocket. 

She sensed it immediately, her eyes narrowing on the blade. Her hands balled into fists, pushing against the steel cuffs to no avail. Cursed . He looked over the bandages, wishing he could smell her better. That would tell him exactly where the odor of ancient magic exuded from. In the cramped space, the odors and scents of all three people grew trapped, fogging up the air. 

Still, having been kidnapped off the street and tossed in that frock, it was unlikely they’d keep the bandages on her if they weren’t necessary in some capacity.

“Initiating round one: minor lacerations.”

Her eyes sharpened on him, the knife, and then the ceiling. She seemed to brace herself, her jaw clenching.

His fox stirred inside, roused by the scent of her fear. 

Her body flinched at the first practiced cut to her bicep. Metallic and cloying, blood perfumed into the air. 

Vere let his right hand fall to the side of the arm’s chair, his claws biting into the wood, posed carefully out of sight from the mage. An irrational irritation welled up inside him - rather than entice him, the scent of her blood and fear threatened to raise his hackles.

What the fuck was happening to him?

The mage cut another line, then another three, until five neat rows of trickling blood dripped down her arm. The scent of blood was now thick in the air, melding with her fear and pain and resignation. He could even smell the odor drifting off of the mages inside as one grew aroused at the sight of her flinching, her body’s muted writhing, her bruised lip as she bit down on the gag to keep any noise from escaping.

Fur brushed against the back of his arms and waist as his tail swished in agitation. As though every cut represented an insult to him, his irritation had quickly bottlenecked into a fury he had never felt before - certainly not for a stranger. 

It was growing increasingly difficult to pretend he was not affected by the scene, and the realization stunned and horrified him.

The fuck did he care if they tortured this woman - one of nearly four hundred score, brought in once a month to be cut and violated in a useless attempt to get a rise out of him?

It had never worked. At first he had enjoyed the sessions, feeding off the grief and suffering like a mid-morning snack. Somewhere before one hundred, he’d grown bored with the affair.

He’d never felt like this. Not even close. 

The mage was making notes on her clipboard, her head tilted curiously. 

“Initiating round two: physical touch.”

A distant rush of sound echoed through his ears. Vere gripped the side of the chair, his claws cutting through the wood like butter, as the mage stinking of arousal set the knife on the table and hovered a hand over the prisoner.

“Due to level 5 contamination in the hands and forearms, this stage will begin with upper torso.”

Definitely cursed, and a nasty one at that. 

He wanted to ponder that longer, perhaps even fantasize over what this curse might do to the disgusting pigs pawing at her, but found his focus unwaveringly poised on that bloody hand.

With leering eyes, the mage peeled back the top of her gown. Faint scars crawled over her chest and shoulders - white and smoothed with age. He lowered his bare hand onto her bare shoulder and held there, even as his eyes dropped to the curve of her breasts.

If looks could kill, the searing hatred in her glare would have killed him on contact.

Vere’s fangs pushed at the edge of his gums. He could see his eyes burning in the reflection of the glass, bright pink and violent, fixed on that hand. 

He wanted to bite , to tear . He longed to drag that man across the rough road and sharp dregs of the wastes until his screams dissolved into misshapen sobs, his face little more than a smear of blood and flesh. Then he would cut into the skin of that hand and peel it like fruit until every inch that had dared touch her could be burned.

His corpse would make a fine toy for Ais’ soulless.

The mage dragged his hand across her chest, fingertips brushing the edge of her collar bones, before wrapping around her throat loosely. 

She was shaking - with rage, fear, deep shame, he wasn’t sure. Fresh blood hit the air, seeping from her balled fists. Her nails must have bitten into her own flesh.

Vere’s eye twitched. 

He was more fox than man, his fury rippling through his body, a song of violence that echoed deep into his bones. Thoughts had left him. His attempts to unravel the completely foreign reaction he was experiencing subsumed beneath a clamor of urges, instincts. Get your filthy hands off her. How dare you touch what does not belong to you . That woman is beyond you. She’s - mine.

Vere froze. The word reverberated within him, bizarre, outlandish, and yet - right. So right the growl held back within his chest began to rumble through him.

Mine . Mine mine mine .

The haze of possessive, righteous fury clouded his mind, his senses.

Unbeknownst to the fool beyond the window, the mage moved to the next location - his hand dragging down her chest, pushing the thin gown aside to grab her breast. 

Her eyes clenched tight, her disgust visceral on her face.

Vere saw red.

The hand severed from the wrist in a spray of blood.

Three seconds passed. 

In the first, the shadows of the room clawed at the mages with vicious abandon.

In the second, Vere had locked his hands at his observer’s jaw and nape, twisting with enough brute force to twist her head all the way around. 

In the third, bodies dropped to the floor - two in a spray of blood, one a doll with her strings cut. 

His heart hammered in his chest. He panted under the pressure of the chains, his beast writhing against the collar and seal imprisoning his true self. Sweat covered his body, his tail twitching with rage. 

Vere turned and punctured the glass with his claws. His fist slammed into them, destroying the seal with brute force until cracks spread across the surface in a spidery web before the window shattered. He jumped through, shards of glass fracturing beneath his boot.

Wide-eyed, her fear thick in the air, the woman looked up at him. 

He lurched over her and scented her thoroughly, his face pressed to the crook of her neck. That sweet, tangy scent stole his senses until he had swiped his tongue over her skin, nipped at the flesh. A small sound echoed from her throat, causing naked want to pool thick and insistent in his belly.

In a dazed moment of complete insanity, he pictured himself taking her on the examination table, biting into her neck and holding her to the slab of steel as he plunged himself into her wet heat and rutted until his lust and fire had been sated. 

Then a siren erupted outside the room. They had moments before mages would be flooding down the hall, with weapons blessed with holy water, the Abbess ready and waiting to take hold of his chains once more.

His sense returned, and he cut the manacles holding her instead. The tip of his claws accidentally nicked the bandages as well, the length falling limp to the table and revealing skin like a summer storm, threaded through with gold veins.

She immediately grabbed for him, to pull him off, to attack - her hands clasped the iron chain draping over his back. The metal burned white hot and hummed at the touch and then - 

Vere gasped.

The seal weakened. 

The cloistering seal that had pinned him in for so long, trapped him within the confines of these chains and this body, only to be released at the bidding of the wretched Senobium - and only then at a fraction of his power, neutered, tamed.

Her hand had dropped the chain in shock. 

Vere snatched her arm up and held her against the collar, pressing her skin to the seal, manic with impending euphoria.

“Yes. Yes ,” he hissed as her flesh continued to siphon off the power of the seal. 

She stared into his glowing, monstrous eyes, her total confusion and shock obvious, until her hand curled around the collar. Her grip tightened as she focused intently on the leather - and the seal began to weaken at an even faster pace. 

She was deliberately eroding the seal. Helping him. 

Vere pushed with all his might against the remaining magic binding him to his current form, straining and snarling, his body morphing, bones breaking and shifting, fur pushing from his skin - 

The collar snapped, and he was free .

A booming, high cackle filled his ears, and it took a moment for him to realize it was Vere himself. His true form consumed what little space existed in the room. The ceiling bowed above him. The door had been blasted off its hinges and shattered into the hall outside.

He felt a flurry of movement below him and craned his snout down to peer at her.

The woman gazed up at him in horrified awe. Now, he scented her and shuddered under the full brunt of that scent. Sweet, tangy, ripe and mouthwatering. He wanted to roll in it. To climb between her legs and drink straight from the source.

His mate.

Nearly four hundred attempts by the damned Senobium to locate her, to find this one being who they believed could be used against him, to bend him to their will in ways they had not succeeded in millenia - and in the span of minutes she had freed him entirely from their control. The enormity of this discovery was something to consider later, but for now -

Vere wanted to laugh. He wanted to swallow her whole.

Mostly, he wanted to get as far away from the tower as possible and as fast as he could run. 

He opened his mouth and curled his tongue around her, dragging her into his maw. She screamed and fought him, those perfect little hands scratching at his palate. When ten minutes had passed of him barreled his way out of the tower, crushing mages beneath his paws, she seemed to realize he wasn’t going to eat her (yet) and sat just behind his teeth to watch.

Soon he was sprinting over the wastes, the wind in his fur, power singing through every vein of his body.

Vere had a thousand ideas for what to do with his new found freedom, but he supposed the first would be this: laying claim to his mate and ensuring she was bound to his side, forever.

____________________________________

comments and likes very much appreciated! thanks for reading!

[definitelynotaminion]

Evil Purging Seal pt. 1

Sasuke is different after the curse seal.

At first, it’s terrifying. The complete personality change right after he’s bitten is not just abnormal, but downright frightening. It seems like their teammate has been replaced outright or at least possessed by that terrifying shinobi in the forest of death, who they were-- eventually-- told was named Orochimaru.

Arrogant, uncaring, bloodthirsty: that twisted Sasuke had thankfully not emerged since Kakashi arrived with him-- late, of course-- to the chunin exams’ final stage.

Hints of it persisted, especially when Sasuke drew on the dark power in his match, as reason left his eyes and he started acting more and more reckless, more and more angry.

But Kakashi was there, chopping him on the back of the neck, and the Sasuke that slumped boneless into his arms was the one they knew, face slack in sleep. The dark curse marks around his face and neck retreated back into the seal.

Kakashi looked at it with frigid intensity. Naruto and Sakura had rarely seen that side to their sensei; not the jovial teacher, but a hardened jonin of the village.

“Is he going to be okay?” Sakura found her courage to ask. Her hair was short now, neatened up by Ino into something more intentional in their time in the hospital after the invasion.

“Yes.” Kakashi said, instantly, like a threat. Then he inhaled and relaxed a fraction, offering her a smile. “Maa, don’t worry about Sasuke-kun. The cursed seal isn’t as contained as I’d hoped. We’ll need to take... alternate measures.”

“Huh, Kaka-sensei?” Naruto got really close to ask, peering at it suspiciously. He swallowed. “Is it-- is it like-- you know.”

A hand over his stomach. He looked deeply uncomfortable.

“Ah.” Kakashi thought for a second, head tilting. “Comparisons could be made. However, sealing that kind of curse took... unimaginable sacrifice.”

Something wretched crossed his face for just a moment before he smiled again. He took a deep breath and ruffled Naruto’s hair.

“I’d used the Evil Sealing Method on Sasuke’s curse mark, but it only works if he doesn’t want to use it. Unfortunately, it looks like some of the corruption is creeping out, taking any kind of negative emotion as an invitation.” A sigh. “I’ll have to layer another seal on top, but it’s... eh, finicky.”

“Will it make him more unstable?” Sakura asked, voice trembling.

“No.” Kakashi said at once. “It’s the Evil Purging Seal. We had to drain the dark chakra out of him to place the first seal, but if it’s still building up... The second seal will reset the level of dark chakra back to zero, but it’s a temporary measure. We’ll have to apply it again every time the curse mark acts up.”

It took a long time to explain how the seal worked, especially since neither of them had a foundational background in fuinjutsu or the sealing arts. Basically, Orochimaru’s curse mark leaked corrosive chakra. Instead of leaking it all the time, leading to a quickly-possessed Sasuke, it was stopped by the Evil Sealing Method, the first seal Kakashi placed on him.

However, the curse seal took normal emotions-- frustration, annoyance, anger-- and used those to bypass the Evil Sealing Method seal. Short of knocking Sasuke out every time it advanced enough to become visible-- those creeping black marks that encroached on his face-- which Kakashi admitted was dangerous to do too often, they’d have to apply a temporary second seal any time Sasuke got too angry or out of line.

“But he’s always like that,” Naruto complained. “How can we tell what’s normal Sasuke or from-- from the curse mark?”

Technically, it was a curse seal, like Naruto’s, but calling it a curse seal sealed by the Evil Sealing Method seal made Naruto want to throw up, like the seashore tongue-twister, so they’d call it a curse mark for now. Like a curse hickey.

Urgh.

“That’s a good point, actually. Once he’s so far gone the black marks appear, it’ll already be too late to apply the secondary seal.” Kakashi hummed, then smiled. “I’ll think of something.”

So it was that when Sasuke next appeared, escorted sheepishly by a completely relaxed Kakashi, the Uchiha was wearing a bracelet around his wrist.

He held up Sasuke’s arm without pretense, smiling at Naruto and Sasuke-- and ignored Sasuke’s protests at being manhandled.

“This is-- settle down, Sasuke--” A sharp looked quelled Sasuke’s protests into a red-faced mullish look-- “how you’ll know if the corrosive chakra is building up in his system. Sasuke should try to avoid negative emotions as best he can, and remove himself from stressful situations, and failing that, find me before the fifth gem fills.”

Sasuke’s face flared red hot, likely embarrassed at needing help at all, Naruto figured. He was fiercely independent and this whole situation had to rankle.

“See, there are five gems on the bracelet. These are a specific chakra-reactive stone. Currently they’re white. They will change color in the presence of corrosive chakra. The smallest one will turn red first, followed by the second smallest, until finally the fifth and largest is fully red. If that happens, and isn’t fixed in time, expect to see the black runes emerge from the curse mark.”

Naruto and Sakura nodded, sensing the seriousness of their teacher. Kakashi shook Sasuke’s arm.

“If the fourth gem fills, you’re to come find me immediately. Drop what you’re doing. If the fifth gem fills, Naruto, sit on him and Sakura, come find me immediately. At that point the corrosive chakra will be influencing him and it doesn’t want to be contained.”

“Heck yeah!” Naruto crows. “Hear that, Sasuke? I’ll hold you down and make you stay put.”

“Ugh! Idiot.” Sasuke scowls, looking away, cheeks still red.

Naruto has to resist the urge to poke them, point them out, bring light to how embarrassed he is. But this is too serious of a situation and, as Kakashi had pulled him aside to quietly explain, he was no longer allowed to needle Sasuke, to make him mad on purpose.

Little things were fine, normal, even a good distraction-- but anything more serious than that? Forbidden.

Naruto wasn’t going to poke any of the bastard’s sore spots. Besides, it was Sasuke he wanted to bother, not Orochimaru.

“How does the new seal work, Sensei?” Sakura asked. “Will we need to learn it?”

Sasuke looked away sharply at that, only relaxing when Kakashi hummed in thought.

“No, not right now. Eventually it might become important.”

“But--” Sasuke started, looking somehow offended, but Kakashi shut him up with a firm look.

“You’re a team. You’re going to stay a team. Orochimaru will not be taking Sasuke and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep that true, got it?”

Chagrined, they all nodded, Sasuke more stiff than the other two.

[geneticcatalyst]

as promised, an exploration of my one pet problem in fandom, or: misinterpretation of jby's first death (ft. zzs)

heres the thing. i occasionally see people reference what seems to be a misconception of the (english translation) text in qi ye. both the fact that its a translation and the metaphorical phrasing make it pretty clear to see why they got the wrong idea, but i firmly believe its still the wrong idea. i am by no means calling the people who got this mixed up dumb or bad, i am simply leaning over their shoulders going 'wait no bestie pls read that again pls read that one more time!!' because this is one of my favorite books and this thing is a key piece of one of my favorite things about it.

i said i was gonna pull screenshots for this post but i think it will be a little while before i get to another reread and i can't ctrl+f the google doc so im just gonna whip this out from memory. if anyone does have this particular passage on hand feel free to pop it in here. the rest of the context/explanations are just from my cursory research, im not chinese or a historian.

cards on the table. the only thing i love more than unhinged gay romances is unhinged platonic soul mates. its catnip to me. i go feral every goddamn time. and i havent stopped losing my mind about zhou zishu and jing beiyuan since that first qi ye scene. what do those guys have going on? not even sure they know but it's A Lot. ive got like 18 other unpublished drafts trying to work that out slash losing my fucking mind at the lengths they go to about each other. that relationship is at the center of both novels even if the spotlight isnt on it. so I admit that my readings are colored a bit by how much i like that they like each other!

which is why im shocked baffled and, ok, lightly salted, to see a few people make the claim that zishu (personally) tortured/killed beiyuan in his first life.

so what the text says is that after helian yi stopped trusting beiyuan (after su qingluan's accidental death), he was basically put to death. but even the emperor has to have a half decent reason to execute someone. the text describes these reasons- ten of them- as zhou zishu's masterpieces. it also refers to them as great shames to beiyuan's standing. what's happening is that helian yi has zishu frame beiyuan for treason or other betrayals against the emperor/the country. it isn't specific as to what, but it doesn't really matter, because its all fake and zishu is really good at his job. so yes, it is fair to say that zishu is the INSTRUMENT of beiyuan's death, but he didn't kill him, he just laid the groundwork.

the text goes on to another slightly confusing line where it says something to the effect of that when each of these accusations were read out in court, each line drew blood from jing beiyuan. that's a metaphor! it's just saying that his reputation was torn apart and ultimately his fate is sealed, despite the phrasing there are no literal injuries happening.

also, i may not have the timeline perfect on this part, but in zishu's introduction in the beginning of the novel, the narration tells us outright that while zishu is partially responsible for beiyuan's death, he was like. cool about it. in what seems to be the first and only time he ever steps out of line or goes against helian yi's command (!), after setting all this up but- if im remembering right- before the news actually breaks in court the next day, zishu warns beiyuan. now this admittedly doesnt do a whole lot because the only other possible option (cut and run) isn't a very good one, but it's the only thing zishu can do. he doesnt have to, but he does it anyway (!). of course beiyuan doesnt even consider doing this, he's stubborn and heartbroken, but he really seems to 1. appreciate the risk zishu took here to try to give him a chance and 2. not hold the whole set up against zishu or take that bit personally.

so what actually happened at the end of beiyuan's first life? he was sent the 3 zhang of white silk. the text does explicitly say this once, but if you're not familiar with the practice it may not click. receiving the white silk from the emperor is what happens when you're too high ranking to execute like a commoner but you've fallen from grace and are being politely asked to hang yourself in order to clear your name. and of course beiyuan, stubborn and heartbroken, does. yes, it's a forced suicide, but it isn't a murder.

anyway, its in that secret conversation, where zishu secretly meets with beiyuan seemingly to try to convince him to save himself and beiyuan outright refuses, that beiyuan promises that if theres a next life (ha), they'll get drunk together. and of course against all odds, there is and they do.

the thing about the idea that some people might think that zishu killed beiyuan is that after that nothing between them makes sense. even if it was at helian yi's request, i just cant see that not permanently damaging the friendship, i don't think beiyuan could immediately pick back up being best friends in the seventh life with that memory in the way. why would zishu go out of his way to warn beiyuan one day if he was perfectly capable and fine with killing him the next? why would beiyuan not only be happy to meet zishu again in the seventh life but also go out of his way trying to save zishu's? none of their other interactions really make sense if you believe there was a murder done there. idk. it clouds the whole throughline of the story which is that they have a bond!

i think maybe people think it is in character due to the other ruthless murders, and they're not wholly wrong, but that's the kicker for me. zishu will murder all kinds of innocents no questions asked, but he's suddenly trying to give an out to his coworker and drinking buddy? hello? thats insane, and that's the point.

furthermore, if you think maybe it would make sense for helian yi to have beiyuan violently killed (since it keeps fucking happening later), i actually have to become helian yi's lawyer for a moment here and say that that doesnt make sense either. helian yi is sitting on a throne gained by shadowy means but he's the Good Guy Ruler and that reputation is important. hes not a cruel person and he may have become paranoid but he still has a shared history with beiyuan. plus, even the emperor has to abide by a certain amount of decorum when he wants to have people killed, especially when that person is also a high ranking member of court. beiyuan's status is basically second only to the royal bloodline, he's essentially the prev emperor's godson, as well as a previously close confidante of helian yi himself. the white silk was regarded as a privileged, dignified means of offing someone. helian yi is perfectly within social acceptability to do this to beiyuan with the pretext of beiyuan's disgrace. but it would be pushing the boundaries for the good and just emperor to suddenly have one of his top advisors and members of high nobility brutally killed like a common criminal. he could probably do it, but it would reflect on him and his reputation too. he could do it in secret, but would have to cover up the disappearance of a prominent court figure. it just makes sense to use the white silk as the neatest, most acceptable legal justice channel here. maintain emotional detachment, be polite, everybody's honor gets honored and such.

so that's the ted talk. theres even some beautiful fanart on here of white-haired first life beiyuan holding the white silk! he wasn't tortured or outright executed, and he chose to obey rather than escape or fight the false claims of treason even though his friend tried to give him the only out he could manage. to interpret things differently really skews the character motivations and plot for everyone- beiyuan, zishu, helian yi- in a way that warps the story out of believability, imho.

[chitsuu]

OC Kiss Week 2024: Lost

Doing this little challenge this week, with my FFXIV character and his husband (@kitshunette's son)!

I actually forgot that the paper of this watercolors sketchbook is not really forgiving when it comes to multiple layers, so that should help me not overthink the sketches

Also, I'm not much of a writer, but I decided to write a little something for each drawing, little windows in their story (which is also why I'm using the @ockissweek prompt list but not in order)

Jisul was walking fast, almost slightly running, as he did not want to be late to his meeting with the Viscount Jannequinard de Durendaire. Getting accepted in the Athenaeum Astrologicum had not been the easiest task, considering he was not from Ishgard in the first place, and Ishardians were still a bit wary of foreigners. But Jisul was highly motivated, and he really wanted to make sure they would not regret their choice. So getting to the school late was simply not an option.

In insight, what happened was totally predictable. Just as he was about to reach the entrance, there was a loud thump, a collision, and astrology cards went flying everywhere amidst the falling snow as both the Au Ra and an Elezen lost their balance.

“Are you alright?”

Hearing the voice, Jisul’s heart went strangely still and the world tilted.

***

The city was burning. Smoke rose everywhere, the sky was red, intermittently illuminated by flashes of light, and ashes were slowly falling like snowflakes. Jisul somehow remembered how the city looked before - large paved streets, city lights, the muted noises of long robes fluttering around. Now the only sounds left were the fires raging all around, and soft cries.

He felt an infinite amount of grief piercing his heart. Grief for what had been, what was happening and what was going to happen next.

Yet, in the midst of all the chaos, the only thing that felt right was the man standing in his arms. Jisul reached up to cup his lover’s face in his hands, and the grief he felt suddenly seemed tiny and laughable when faced with the clear eyes looking straight at him. The sense of loss brought by looking into those eyes was being deeply engraved into his very soul, as if willed into existence by creation magic itself, while the world crumbled around them.

“Let’s make a promise. No matter what, we will find each other again. In every live.”

His lover spoke in a low voice, unfaltering in his conviction, and yet the pain was lurking just below the surface, a pain mirroring Jisul’s.

“We will. I promise you. We will find each other again, no matter how long it takes. I will stand by your side again.”

“So will I.”

They both smiled, but the sadness contained within was overflowing. That vow was made on burning, empty grounds.

His smile is so beautiful, even now.

Jisul was unable to stop the thought from forming.

Without thinking, without a word, their lips found each other, as if to seal the promise. The kiss tasted like ashes. The feeling of losing a part of himself was overwhelming. The world was lit ablaze.

***

“Are you alright?”, the man repeated, a touch of worry in his voice.

As Jisul drew his gaze to the clear eyes looking straight at him, the world tilted back in place, and his heart started beating again, albeit a little faster than usual. The eyes belonged to an Elezen with tan skin and darker hair. The very image of the already disappearing memory he just experienced, except for the pointed ears. Then again, in that particular vision, Jisul had neither scales nor horns.

“Ah, uh, yes, I’m very sorry about this, I hope I didn’t hurt you…”

Jisul offered his hand to help the man stand, suddenly feeling shy.

What was that memory?

As they got back on their feet, the Elezen smiled, saying there was no harm done, but maybe they ought to pick up the cards before they could get damaged by the snow? Flustered, Jisul agreed and started collecting the stray cards, pondering on the already fading vision, just like a dream leaving in the morning.

Jisul would have doubted his brain entirely, if it was not for that quiet sense of a promise fulfilled swelling in his heart, filling the hole of having lost something he did not even realize he had before, along with a part of his soul contentedly humming, deep down.

Found you.

[writtenjewels]

Dress Uniform

[Happy Veterans Day and thank you to all who served in the military]

Jason only wore his dress uniform one time in his entire military career: the day he officially earned his commission. All those days he spent making his brain nearly leak out of his ears brought him to that moment. He swelled with pride as they pinned the stripes on his uniform.

And now he was pulling it out of the closet again. The thing was wrapped to keep it in good condition despite being shoved in a closet for years. He put it on one piece at a time, remembering how everything was supposed to fit even after all this time. He got a look at himself in the mirror.

Jason was a different person from the guy who wore this uniform the last time. He was so lost before—desperate to get away from his shitty life, not even caring if his military career ended with a folded up American flag sent to his family. He repeated lies that grew into a shield around his real self. He was the overzealous patriot, the guy on the fast track with his career.

On the outside, he hadn't changed that much. He sported a few more lines around the eyes and mouth, but he still had the physique of a soldier. Jason wore his hair in the same style, though that was because he saw no reason to mess with it. And there were his tattoos. Whatever his motivation for getting them, Jason kept them on his skin.

“Jason?” He turned at the voice and smiled at Salim. The older man was in his dress uniform, too. Jason had never seen him in it before.

“We match,” Jason noted with a little smile. The colors were a little different but the style looked pretty similar. He reached out to smooth the collar of Salim's top. His fingers ran along the shoulder to Salim's medals. “Look at you. Pretty decorated.”

“Yours are pretty impressive, too,” Salim answered with a light brush over Jason's chest. “Are you ready to go? Penny has the car running.”

“Yeah, just about. You sure we don't gotta say anything?”

“No, Eric will be the one doing all the talking. All we need to do is stand there and look pretty.”

“Guess I can do that,” Jason nodded, chuckling. His fingers tightened a little on Salim's collar and he pulled the man toward him. “Hey, Salim. Thank you for your service. I know you didn't have a choice, but... you know.” He wet his lip and heaved a sigh. “This is why Eric's doin' talking.”

“It's all right, direi,” Salim assured him gently. “There is a saying that actions speak louder than words, and you are the loudest person I've ever know.”

“Can't really tell if that's a compliment or not,” Jason snorted.

“I understand what you mean to say,” Salim said. His hand cradled Jason's cheek as he leaned in closer. Jason swallowed the lump in his throat. Yeah, Salim always understood him from the first moment they met.

And that was the biggest difference between who he was now and the man he used to be. He hadn't lowered his shield so much as thrown it away, and he stopped telling so many lies.

“Thank you for your service, Jason,” Salim rumbled. The words carried such a wide range of emotions when Jason heard them. Sometimes he was proud, others embarrassed. Hearing them from Salim made him feel humble.

“I love you,” he confessed, and pressed his lips to Salim's. He heard Salim echo the words against his mouth before their lips sealed again. A sudden bang interrupted the moment. Jason extracted himself slowly—he wasn't going to be ashamed of kissing the love of his life.

“Hey!” Jason's sister Penny stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “Y'all can do that shit later! We got an honorary ceremony to get to!”

“Yes, ma'am,” Jason replied as Salim chuckled beside him. The two moved to follow but Salim stopped them.

“I almost forgot to give you this,” he mentioned, holding out a hat. Jason's heart jumped a little in surprise recognizing the gray color. But of course it wasn't his old hat; he threw that thing away a long time ago. This one was new, and on the front someone drew in two symbols: a sword and a shield.

“Salim.” Jason swallowed the emotion welling in his throat. “This don't go with the uniform.”

“Maybe not,” Salim allowed, placing the hat on Jason's head, “but you wouldn't be you without it.”

[acourtofthought]

Gwynriel Stuff

Gwyn asked, on Nesta’s other side, “Do you have them often?” “Yes.” Nesta finished a sit-up, grunting through the weakness in her middle. “Me too,” Gwyn said quietly. “Some nights, I need a sleeping potion from our healer to knock me out.”

"I wish I could" he answered silently. But sleep so rarely found him these days.

They both struggle to sleep and would both find peace at night together which he already found a little bit of on the rooftop that night 🥹

Also, is it just me or does it seem like the shadows tried to prevent Az from making the mistake he did with Elain while trying to encourage him to spend more time with Gwyn?

Azriel snickered to himself, to the listening shadows around him. "Sleep, they seemed to whisper in his ear. Sleep"

But Az ignored the shadows, staying by the fireplace longer ("he knew he'd be swallowed by it if he went up to his bedroom, so he remained down here by the dying light of the fire") until he eventually left which is when he ran into Elain. Had he listened to the shadows in the first place, the situation with Elain and Rhys would have never happened, preventing Az from feeling even worse than he originally did. They knew when she returned to her room which to me means they also knew she was awake and the shadows may have encouraged Az to leave before anything more happened.

But where they initially encouraged him to sleep, they no longer seemed all that worried about it when they were "content to lounge on his shoulders to watch" Gwyn, after that restless feeling inside of Az settled.

The shadows seem to sense what Az needs while Az ignores their advice which isn't that surprising when you look back at Azriel's history and his refusal to listen to anyone who tells him what to do, even if it's the smart thing:

Azriel had sealed them in, and as his scarred hands wrapped around Eris’s throat, Rhys said, “Enough.” Azriel squeezed, Eris thrashing beneath him. No physical brawling—there had been a rule against that, but Azriel, with whatever power those shadows gave him … “Enough, Azriel,” Rhys ordered. Azriel dug his knee—and all his weight—into Eris’s gut. He was silent, utterly silent as he ripped the air from Eris’s body. “Call off your overgrown bat,” Beron ordered Rhys.

“I’m going in,” Azriel said. “No,” Rhys snapped. But Azriel was spreading his wings, the sunlight so stark on the new, slashing scars down the membrane. “Chain me to a tree, Rhys,” Azriel said softly. “Go ahead.” He began checking the buckles on his weapons. “I’ll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back.”

“I want to confirm that Briallyn has the Crown,” Azriel said. “I’ll travel to the human lands tomorrow.” “No,” Feyre and Rhys said at the same time, in the same breath. Azriel’s eyes shuttered. “I wasn’t asking for permission.” Rhys smirked. “Doesn’t matter.” Az opened his mouth to object, but Feyre said, “You’re not going, Azriel. “Give me some credit, Feyre,” Az said. “I can keep hidden well enough.” “We take no risks,” Feyre said, voice flat with command. “Pull all your spies out.” “Like hell I will.”

I have hope we'll soon be entering an era of Az making smarter choices though, we get the first hints that he can learn to respect the chain of command:

The High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court had faced off against the shadowsinger this afternoon, and emerged triumphant. Perhaps triumphant wasn’t the right word, but the argument had ended with Azriel grudgingly agreeing not to spy on Briallyn for the time being—and brooding all through dinner.

And he only went near Briallyn to retrieve Eris when Feyre and Rhys allowed it:

Az said, “We have to get him out.” Cassian drew up short. “We?” Rhys stepped up next to Azriel, Feyre beside him. A formidable wall. “We can’t go,” Feyre said, nodding to Rhys.“You and Azriel need to retrieve Eris.” “Why not you?” Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose. “Because Amren is …” “Powerless,” Amren snarled. “You can say it, girl.” Feyre winced. “Mor left for Vallahan this morning and is out of our daemati magic’s range. Az can’t go in alone. We need you, Cassian.”

Which also means Rhys ordering him to stay away from Elain when Az couldn't convince him that he had actual feelings for her won't necessarily result in Az disobeying him as some think.

[wordsandrobots]

I was sorting through a few things today and realised I never actually shared the sketches I did from when I was trying to work out what grown-up Shino looked like for To Catch a Falling Star. Mostly because they are not great. But hey, let's call this back-matter for the fic!

[EDIT: OH RIGHT THAT WAS WHY I DIDN'T POST IT. Tumblr objecting to his having nipples. Right, OK, I guess we're censoring that and not the actual signs of massive injury. Cool.]

Things to note:

The scars I explicitly stated in the text are: scarring up his neck but not extending to his head, a large burn on his left flank , an oval-shaped burn around his whisker (yes, exactly the shape you're thinking), and a strip of replaced skin taking up most of his right thigh. The rest are generally covered by 'there's a fuck-ton of them'.

(I mentioned this in the fic notes but the reason there are no scars on his face is because his helmet sealed shut right before Flauros depressurised, protecting his head from all but superficial damage. This saved his life but didn't do much for the rest of him, which was injured by the explosions and the normal-suit attempting to self-repair damage.)

Shino starts out in the fic with his head shaved but when he grows his hair back, he's (at least initially) somewhat shaggier than he was as a teenager.

He is also considerably less hench than he used to be. He's still roughly the same dimensions, but not nearly as defined and is even a bit gaunt-looking in certain lights. Traumatic everything injuries will do that to a person.

His new ear-studs are all gold; unlike Kudelia's, there is no jewel.

When I was originally thinking about the prosthetic connector, you can seen that my ideas tended a bit more Trigun-esque than is perhaps warranted. That's because I hadn't yet seen this picture of Argi Mirage's arm from the manga:

The cap on the end should therefore probably be a lot smaller and flow more cleanly into the flesh, ala a whisker, and so the outline should more resemble a real-life residual limb.

His prosthetic should also be closer to the above than I drew it -- or rather, closer to Derma's, since they're made by the same person:

I imagine there being a greater amount of plastic and otherwise non-metal sections than Moon Steel shows with Argi. Certainly, from the shot above, it seems Derma's hand is inside a flexible glove instead of just being nakedly robotic (which makes sense, he works with children whereas Argi mainly hits people for a living).

Oh, yes, for those who haven't read the fic: Shino's prosthetic having five digits is *very much* significant and plot-relevant. Actually, thinking it through now, that would explain why (per my descriptions) Shino's fingers have exposed metal parts over a softer bed of tactile sensors: to better protect them given that they're more vulnerable to damage than standard three-finger manipulators.

Anyway, there we have it. Character redesign thoughts! I should probably have another go at drawing him at some point, though I would need to get back into the swing of sketching first. Maybe when I'm done writing! (On top of everything else I plan to do when the last fic in the series is finished . . .)

[danses-with-dogmeat]

I hope it's okay because I don't know where the crab or crown is but the crab and Crown please with female lone Wanderer and Charon

❛ let’s go somewhere, just you and me. ❜

More Charon? So soon after the other prompts I've done for him? Well... Yes, is my answer. Always more Charon.

This one is also a lil angsty, but also a lil fluffy, so, you know... my bread and butter lol.

I hope you enjoy! 😁

Charon stood watch, as he was so accustomed to. Still as a statue, and just as imposing and unmovable as the material the strongest ones are built from. His broad shadow cast itself over Lone's kneeling form, where they had collapsed down on their knees a few miles from the Jefferson Memorial.

The dust had long since settled from their abrupt movement, the sun was slowly bowing it's head below the horizon, as though in respect for the man that Lone had lost.

Their last bit of family in the world, just... gone before their eyes. Charon remembered the wideness of them, the disbelief that drew their brows up their forehead and showcased the prevalent whites of their gaze, the color of their irises, all the more vibrant with the assistance of the glossy tears that had spilled down their dust-caked and sweat-slicked skin, leaving clear trails through the filth that the wasteland had wrought upon them.

His chest ached as he looked down to their crumpled form. Their body had ceased the wracking sobs that left them shaking almost ten minutes ago, and even the sound of their breaths had calmed and stilled like the dead land around them.

Charon had seen more than his fair share of death, had seen the light leave many a pair of eyes. Wrinkled eyes, the milky-blue eyes of ghouls, young and bright eyes of those taken far too soon. He'd closed some of them-- many of them himself, and yet this one hurt him more than any he could remember. Not because he was particularly close with James; he seemed a fine enough man, a decent father to Lone, a do-gooder, just like his kid. Suited Charon fine.

Yet... the way Lone had fallen to the ground, as though the weight of their grief dragged them down with tooth and nail, falling over them like a weighted blanket and sealing their form to the earth, like they were ready to be buried down in it just like he would be. Like their father would be, if he was lucky enough to ever be laid to rest... That sight was like a grief-stricken scream sent straight to the thick marrow of Charon's bones, making his limbs, his ribcage, his spine ache with a soreness not caused by physical hurt.

Asking them if they were alright seemed like a crime, and so he simply waited, standing close, but not too near. Giving them space to wallow, but not enough to do something rash in response to their overwhelming low.

Stark, blue eyes re-focused on his companion as Lone slowly heaved themselves to their feet, not shedding the weight completely, but shifting it enough to where they could take a step in a forward direction.

"There's nothing left here." Their voice came out as a rasp, more akin to his own than their usual smooth timbre.

Charon's brows scrunched further over his cool eyes.

"We should just... Just go. You know?" Lone's gaze met his, their stare hollow and sullen as a wilted winter leaf.

"We should just go somewhere else. Just you and me. Leave this place behind."

"This place?"

"What's left here for us? Underworld? Vault 101? The cities, the settlements, the people. They don't want us, Charon. They've made that clear. Even when my father tried to help them all, even now, after he..."

Their throat constricted, pulling their voice from them before they could finish properly. Charon reached out a large, scarred hand, brushing his fingers over their wrist in a rare show of affectionate encouragement.

"It won't matter to them." Lone continued quietly, "We're outcasts, you and me. And that's... no matter what the Brotherhood says, what anyone does, that's not gonna change. Might as well beat them to the punch, you know? Just go, before they can kick us on the way out."

The ghoul nodded to them, his lips tight with consideration.

"We can go and be ourselves somewhere, not expect anything from anyone around us, not be expected to make a difference when no one seems to give a shit whether we live or die trying to solve their problems for them."

"Where would we go?"

Charon's fingers continued to stroke over his partner's hand lightly, feeling the slight rise of their veins, the hardness of their knucklebones, the warmth of their smooth skin.

"Where-? Anywhere. Anywhere that's not here, that doesn't have this history that haunts us. Somewhere there's no Ahzrukhal, no Alphonse, no Amata, no vaults or owners or family or memories of any of it, just... a blank slate. A place we can start again, without all... All this."

Their free hand gestured around to the ruins surrounding the pair, the greyness of it, the dusty shadows of the past, pressed to the walls of their inner memories like ashen outlines blasted into concrete by the atomic bombs that started this all.

Charon's jaw tightened at the sight of all the pallid listlessness around them, the way he viewed the world, the way that he hoped Lone never would. A troubling thought shoved aside the bliss of this future his partner promised for them.

"Lone." His large hand enveloped theirs, giving it a light squeeze as he folded it into his grasp. "If we do this... If we leave... do you think you'll ever know peace?"

"What?"

He took a breath, trying to organize the thoughts as they approached his lips.

"You're not unlike your father." Charon said, as gently as his rough voice would permit, "A need to help, a need for retribution for him... an unwillingness to rest, knowing that the Enclave is still out there... Do you think you'll be able to stay away for long? Will you be able to live with yourself if you do?"

"Charon--" Their hand was tugged from his grasp as his partner stepped away from him. "You think I don't know myself? You think I didn't consider all that before I talked to you?"

Charon's gaze fell to the ground, his brow furrowed.

"Maybe that's who I was before... Before I lost him, before I was cast out of the only home I've known, before I lost the only family I have left and was banished by the only friends I've known... Maybe I was that way before the Capitol Wasteland kicked the shit out of me."

They paused, their expression softening along with their voice as they started again.

"The only saving grace, the only fucking break I've had... Has been you, Charon. If not for you, I'd... I don't know. I just... I know that I want this."

The ghoul nodded to them mutely, a meager smile tugging at the sides of his ruined lips at their sentiment.

"And maybe you're right." Lone continued, their hand reaching for him again, almost like an apology for tugging it away in the first place. "Maybe one day I'll change my mind, I'll want to come back, I'll hear about something the Enclave have done and it'll piss me off so much that we'll come right back and finish whatever the Brotherhood are trying to start with them, but for now... For now, I think the only way I could know peace is by leaving this place. By being with you, and you only."