#the simple mark of the years on his skin in some way grounding him in reality felt more right

[wrightingdungeon]

Just a apple

I decided to write for my comfort ship, cus I'm depressed and fighting writer's block/imposter syndrome, this is essentially me making chicken noodle soup for my soul

Penny x Shane, fight me

Looking down at the apple in his hand, Shane let out a low groan. The fruit stared back at him, dull and unpolished—nothing like the shiny, wax-coated ones from Joja Mart. Some dirt still clung stubbornly to its skin as it had been plucked straight from the branch just yesterday, not washed yet. He turned it over, noticing a few scuff marks where it looked like Jas had dropped it a few times.

He recalled how Farmer had let Jas pick a few from their orchard the other day for her to feed the animals. But this apple wasn’t meant for them. Jas had cradled it in her small hands, determined to give it to her teacher, Penny. "So I won’t forget!" she’d declared proudly, placing it on the kitchen counter with a smile that made Shane’s heart ache a little less, knowing she would be a positive force on the world as she grew up.

Now, that same apple sat where she’d left it, a silent reminder of Jas’s disappointment. She had woken up with a fever, her cheeks flushed and forehead hot to the touch. Disappointment had flooded her eyes when she realized she wouldn’t be going to school. "But… but I wanted to… to give it to Miss Penny," she had murmured, her bottom lip trembling, her resolve crumbling in the face of illness.

Tossing the apple up once, then catching it in his calloused hand, Shane’s eyes narrowed. He could just leave it there, let Jas deliver it when she felt better. But something in him resisted that idea. Perhaps it was the gratitude he’d been nursing for a while, seeing how Penny took care of Jas—patient and kind—always ensuring she got the care and education he feared he couldn’t provide her.

“Fuck it…” Shane muttered under his breath, his resolve hardening as he gripped the apple tighter. He’d drop it off on his way to work; her house was on the route, after all. Just a simple gesture—a little thank you from an uncle who didn’t know how to say the words out loud.

Stepping outside, the cool morning air nipped at his skin. He set off down the familiar path, boots crunching softly against gravel. One of the few perks of being up early was the solitude—just Shane, the road, and the endless stretch of sky warming with the first hints of dawn. For a moment, he could almost convince himself the world was just his, silent and still, untouched.

Morning doves cooed from their perches, joined by the rhythmic buzz of cicadas hidden in the grass, their song rising and falling like the tide. Each step felt instinctive, every dip and curve of the road familiar. He could probably walk it blindfolded if he had to, honestly having walked home from the bar without releasing it a few times.

The apple grew warmer in his hand, grounding him, reminding him of the task ahead. What would he even say to Penny? ‘Hey, this is from Jas,’ and then just walk away? Or maybe try to say something more meaningful, and end up making a ass of himself.

He let out a heavy sigh, breath misting in the chilly air. It wasn’t like he was doing anything special—just delivering an apple. But it felt bigger, like it carried more weight than he understood. Maybe because Jas had put so much thought into this gesture, or because he felt he had so little to give in return.

As he approached the old trailer, Shane slowed his steps, taking in the sight of the once-vibrant home now dulled by years of wear, the shiny exterior was now rusting over. Empty beer bottles cluttered the ground around Pam's white plastic smoking chair, their glass glinting dully in the light. Shane let out a soft sigh, half-tempted to turn around and shove the apple in his locker at work, but he was already here. He’d even left earlier than usual, meaning he’d be standing outside Joja waiting for Morris to open the doors if he bailed now.

He leaned his head back, groaning softly, shaking it to summon the courage that always slipped through his fingers. Finally, he climbed the creaky steps, each one protesting under his weight. Lifting his free hand, he rapped quickly against the metal door and waited, telling himself he'd give it a minute—just sixty seconds—and then he’d be out of there.

As he began to step back, relieved by the lack of response, the door creaked open as if on cue to stop him. Shane paused, heart jolting as he saw Penny’s green eyes and bright red hair peek out, her expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity. “Shane?” she whispered, her voice barely cutting through the morning air as she stepped outside. He caught a glimpse of Pam passed out and snoring on the couch behind her before the door clicked shut, leaving the two of them outside on the small porch. “What can I do for you?”

For a moment, he stood there, awkward and unsure, the apple now feeling like a rock in his palm. “Uh,” he cleared his throat, embarrassment creeping up his neck. “Jas picked this for you. Said you were a good teacher or somethin’.” He held out the apple, trying to sound casual, as if it didn’t matter.

Penny’s expression softened as she reached out, her fingers brushing against his. “Oh,” she said, eyes brightening in a way that made Shane’s chest tighten with unexpected warmth. “Thank you. I’ll make sure to tell her how much I love it.”

Silence fell between them, and Shane shuffled his feet, searching for something else to say. “She, uh, wasn’t feelin’ great this morning,” he muttered, scratching the back of his head. “But she wanted you to have it.”

Penny nodded, her gaze warm and understanding. “I hope she feels better soon,” she said softly. “I know how much she looks forward to coming to school.”

“Yeah,” Shane replied, the weight of his words hanging in the air. He didn’t know how to articulate the mix of guilt and gratitude swirling inside him. “She really cares about you, you know? It’s nice to see someone look out for her.”

Penny’s smile deepened, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world around them had faded away. “Thank you, Shane. That means a lot,” she said, her voice steady but laced with sincerity. “It’s easy to forget how much these little things matter.”

Shane shrugged, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “I don’t do much, but… I try to be there for her.” He could hear the slight tremor in his voice, an unfamiliar vulnerability surfacing as he spoke.

“You do more than you realize,” Penny replied, her tone gentle, as if she could sense the struggle behind his words. “Jas sees you as a role model, you know?”

The warmth of her words surprised him, a soft ember igniting in his chest. Shane shifted, feeling an unexpected swell of appreciation. “Yeah, well… don’t go spreadin’ that around… Got a reputation to maintain,” he shot back, attempting to mask the fluttering sensation in his chest.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she replied, her playful tone laced with sincerity. For the first time in a long while, something inside Shane eased. He felt his mouth twitch, an involuntary smile threatening to break through, but he fought it back, maintaining his gruff exterior. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he grumbled, though there was no bite to his words.

“You’re not as scary as you think,” Penny teased, tilting her head, her hair catching the light. It wasn’t fair how easily she got under his skin. “Deep down, you’re just… kind.”

“Alright, now you’re just talkin’ nonsense,” he muttered, heat creeping up his neck. He shifted, feeling like a teenager caught in an awkward encounter. “It’s just an apple, Penny. Don’t make a big deal outta it.”

“But it is a big deal,” she insisted, her voice gentle but firm. “You didn’t have to, but you did. And that means something…”

For a moment, Shane didn’t know how to respond. The sincerity in her eyes made it impossible to brush off her words. “Yeah, well… someone’s gotta thank you. You work real hard,” he said quietly, the admission slipping past his defenses.

Penny’s expression softened further, her eyes shining with something deeper. “You’re the first to say that,” she murmured, fingers brushing anxiously against the apple’s smooth skin. “Sometimes, it feels like no one even notices.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not doin’ a damn good job,” Shane replied quickly, surprising himself with his certainty. “Jas, Vincent—they look up to you. And I… I’m grateful for that. Don’t think I say it enough.”

There was a beat of silence, heavy with unspoken words. Penny’s cheeks flushed a faint pink as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re not as bad as you think you are, Shane,” she said, a teasing lilt underscored with belief.

He let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “If you say so.”

Penny smiled, lighting up her face. “I do say so,” she replied, winking as she reached back toward the door. “But you should really give yourself more credit. It’s okay to be kind, you know?”

He felt heat rise in his cheeks again, rubbing the back of his neck harder, as if to erase it. “Yeah, well… maybe I’ll think about it,” he replied, voice gruff but lacking real bite.

“Good,” she said, voice softening again. “I’ll see you around, Shane. And tell Jas I hope she feels better soon.”

“Will do,” he nodded, feeling strangely buoyed as he turned to leave, the weight of the morning feeling lighter.

As he walked down the steps, he glanced back one last time, catching Penny still standing there, watching him with that soft smile that felt like sunlight breaking through clouds.

He waved goodbye, feeling an unfamiliar warmth spreading through him, grounding him. With each step away from her porch, he realized that for the first time in a long while, he felt seen—not just the drunk who stumbled through life—but as someone worthy and capable of kindness and connection.

The world around him felt different, alive with possibilities he hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps it was true; maybe he was more than just a shadow in the background. He could be a part of something meaningful, all because of something as simple as an apple.

[julijbee]

girlbossing too close to the sun.

[apomaro-mellow]

steve being an offering to the village god; slightly smutty

Steve tried to let out calming breaths as his mother prepared him by brushing his hair.

“Our people can’t thank you enough for this. You’ll be hailed as a saint.”

“A saint. Right.” Steve had seen the other saints they worshipped. Young men and women immortalized in stone statues in the temple at the center of their village.

That was all that remained of them once they were gone. Steve had stood and modeled for his own statue just a week ago. They were only waiting for the actual day to put it with the others. Being worshipped in death didn’t seem like a good trade for his life in his opinion.

But he had no other options. If he refused, they would just force him anyway. And he couldn’t run. There was nowhere to go. It was fine. His parents had known from the moment he was born what he was destined for and they had told him when he was around five. That one day he was going to live with someone very important.

As he got older, he learned the entire truth. Every hundred years, one of their people offered themselves up as a sacrifice to the Many Voiced God. They knew whoever the god wanted, as they were marked from birth with dark spots across their skin. Points where the god himself had touched them.

Were it not for the offerings, their lives would fall to misfortune and disfavor. Steve knew what the stakes were. He wanted the people he had grown up with to live comfortable lives. But why did he have to give his for that?

“It’s time”, his father said, looking only at his wife. Sometimes Steve wondered if his father had ever seen him as a son, or if he’d always been a token to their god. He also wondered if they would try for another child. One that wasn’t marked for someone else.

Steve walked out of his home for a final time, dressed in simple white clothes, a shirt and pants. The walk to the temple wasn’t far, yet he felt like it was the longest walk of his life. People lined the streets, some bowing or prostrating to him. Some tossed flower petals. Offerings had come to his house for the past month, food, clothes, metal wares, all for the parents who were so noble in giving up their only son.

As they got closer to the temple, the crowd got larger and closer to Steve. A few even dared to reach out and touch as he walked by. When the saints were depicted in art they always seemed to be above it all, untouchable. The villagers’ eyes and hands on him made Steve feel otherwise. 

His grandfather stood at the doors of the temple. As their leader it was his duty to officiate the proceedings. Steve listened as he addressed the crowd, reminded them of why they were all here and what was about to happen. He thanked the people, his parents, and finally Steve.

Steve didn’t say a word.

The doors to the temple opened and Steve removed his shoes before he alone went inside. They shut behind him. All of the torches were lit and he could see the faces of those that came before him. The temple could be arranged in many ways for different purposes. For this ceremony, pillows and blankets were arranged in an almost nest like way in the center of the room.

Steve bowed his head and then laid himself right in the middle. He knew what would happen next, just not how. He only knew the gossip he had heard. Some say the god bit right into your neck, ended it quick before devouring the rest. Others said he feasted on you belly, the sweetest parts while listening to your cries. Would he do it here? Or take him back to the other side to enjoy his meal in the comfort of his own home?

“Well, well, well. They went all out with you.”

Steve sat up, jostling the pillows at the voice he heard. He looked to the shadows in the room, wondering if the Many Voiced God would appear from one like a specter.

“Where are you?”

The flames from the torches grew more intense before flowing to the ground. They gathered to a point and formed the shape of a person. The fire went back to the torches, revealing a young man. He shook his dark hair and something like ashes flung from it. He...really wasn’t what Steve had been expecting. The hair and face matched fine. But the drawings he’d been shown his whole life also had claws and fangs and wings. This person here was deceptively human.

“Like what you see?”

“You....you’re the Many Voiced God?”

“That I am. Although I got by many names. He Who Speaks for Many, Hundred Tongues. But I doubt they taught you my godly name.”

“Your godly name?”, Steve asked.

“The name used only by other gods. Or those that have attained my personal favor.”

Steve shook his head.

The Many Voiced God licked his index finger and then wrote in the air using fire. The amorphous shapes made it hard to make out to Steve, but he tried his best.

“Eddie?”

The flames disappeared and the god grinned. “Eddie? Is that what it looks like to you?”

“It’s, uh, kind of hard for me to read.”

“Then from this moment on, I shall be known as Eddie”, the god put a hand to his heart. “Do you know what happens next?”

Steve swallowed. “Now you’re going to take me.”

“That’s exactly right.” The god, now Eddie, leaned in and pressed his nose to Steve’s neck. “Nervous?”

Steve’s heart had in fact been pounding. But at the question, he asked himself why. He had known this was coming for a long time. Knew the basics of what to expect. With a breath, he closed his eyes and laid back into the nest. 

“However you do it, I only beg that you make it painless.”

Eddie gave pause at that. “Did they tell you it would be painful?”

“I’ve heard a lot of things”, Steve said. “I just want it to be over it.”

Eddie moved away from Steve, sitting on the other side of the nest. “What did they tell you exactly?”

Steve opened his eyes and sat up slowly. “That you would take me.” He continued after Eddie prompted him. “As in like, eating me, I guess?”

“I’m sure you taste sweet but actually feasting on you isn’t what I had in mind. When I take my offerings, it means to take you as a husband.”

“Husband? Me? You want me? Me as a husband?”, Steve rambled.

“You’re gorgeous and willing to give yourself to me for your people. And I am more than happy to spend the next century with you. But only if you say ‘I do’.”

Steve was suddenly reminded that after him, there would be others. And would probably have more to live for than him.

“Can I make a condition?”, Steve asked, deciding to try his luck. Eddie was still a god, still fully within his abilities to burn him alive if he displeased him. But he had nothing to lose at this point.

“A condition?”, Eddie grinned, clearly in good spirits.

“If I say yes, make me the last.”

“The last...sacrifice?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie’s grin turned into a full on blinding beam of a smile. “Are you proposing to be with me for all eternity?”

Steve let out a breath and nodded again.

“Then I make this vow. As long as the tapestry of time is spun, I shall not take another. Just as you are mine, I am yours.”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand and kissed the back of it, then up his arm. Steve felt each kiss like an electric brand, making his skin buzz. Eddie kissed his shoulder and then their lips were just a breath apart, but he waited.

Steve almost wondered why but then remembered.

“I accept this vow.”

Eddie sealed the promise with a kiss and Steve could feel his destiny being tied with the god’s. They really would belong to each other for the rest of eternity. Slowly, Eddie parted his lips and Steve let him inside. It felt like he was melting and all they had done was kiss.

Eddie’s lips went down to his jaw and neck, taking in a breath as he savored what was before him. “Even if you hadn’t asked, I think you would have been it for me.” He took off Steve’s shirt and ran a hand down his chest. “It’s like you were made just for me.”

Steve almost said that he was, carrying the spots on his skin that were supposed to be the god’s own markings, but now he wasn’t sure how much of that was true. He grabbed Eddie’s face and pulled him in for a kiss, all he knew was that he wanted more.

He fell back against the pillows, bringing Eddie with him. Steve opened his eyes at just the right moment to see Eddie’s clothing disappear off him in a haze of smoke, revealing tattoos all over his body. Some were from the stories of his feats. He remembered the story of the bats most. But others were symbols that graced these very walls. The sigils of the sacrifices that had come before him, created after they were taken. Steve wondered what his would look like.

He was taken out of his thoughts when he felt lips against his neck, making a trail to his chest. The lower Eddie got, the more of his tongue that Steve felt, licking him like the sweetest treat. Eddie spent a languid amount of time, nibbling at his hips. To the point where Steve found himself getting impatient and rolling his bottom half, then spreading his legs a little.

Eddie looked up at him while he played with the top of Steve’s pants, his eyes asking for permission. Steve nodded and even began to help push his pants down. Steve let out a breath when Eddie began to kiss his thighs.

It wasn’t that he was inexperienced. While the elders preached that he should remain untouched, marked as he was, there was always someone who wanted what they couldn’t have. Steve had the pleasure of kisses stolen in secret, rushed rendezvous. People who wanted a taste but knew he could never be there.

Never anything like this. He never had the luxury of taking his time. Eddie was in the middle of nosing at his crotch hairs when Steve flipped them over, taking a little joy in his wide eyes.

“I’m yours and you’re mine, right?”

Eddie smiled. “Exactly right.”

Steve kissed him while his hands explored his body. His hand brushed against the hottest part of his body, red and leaking at the tip and Steve heard a sound he never thought he’d hear from a god.

A whimper.

He couldn’t help the grin that came across his face. Steve slid down his body and kissed the tip, then down the length, enjoying the way an almighty deity was holding back. But Steve didn’t want that. He wanted to be touched and used and treated like they had all the time in the world to learn about each other. He took Eddie all the way down to the root, breathing through his nose. Then he reached out and grabbed Eddie’s hand, then put it on his head.

“Someone’s eager”, Eddie said. “Tap me if it’s too much beautiful.”

Steve’s reply was a whine in the back of his throat before Eddie started to thrust up into his mouth. It felt so good. Especially, when he felt it begin to change while inside of him. It got bigger, and he felt ridges as it passed through his lips. Steve was so lost in it when Eddie pulled him off by the hair.

“That mouth of yours should be sanctified.”

Steve was under him again, on his stomach this time while Eddie kissed at his shoulders and back. He reached around, letting his fingers brush against Steve’s cock in teasing touches. Eddie rubbed himself off on Steve. He used both hands to part Steve’s cheeks and press against his hole.

He pushed just the head in, then pulled out, then pushed a little more in, then out again. Steve was left a babbling mess, knowing he was being treated gently but wishing they could skip to him just being full and fucked.

But then Eddie was finally all the way in and from that moment on Steve lost track of time. He lost track of space as well and how many times either one of them had come.

When he did regain full consciousness, he was still in the nest, but was no longer in the temple. Above him were stars of a sky he didn’t recognize. And next to him was Eddie, looking at him with nothing less than absolute adoration.

He took Steve’s hand and kissed each of his fingers. “You’re the end for me, Steve.”

Steve smiled and brought Eddie’s hand to his own lips. “And you’re my beginning.”

[delta-06]

Phoenix

Future poly 141 (if I wanna continue this or y'all want to know more abt this)

Small note: I took some inspo from the work "mages and monsters" by @thegnomelord . (hope its ok) and here are some warnings: major injury, depiction of blood and....uh...heartbreak cuz of love (?)

The human kind always escribed phoenixes as mythological birds capables of incredible doings, capable of being almost immortals and representing good omens. Their golden orangesque wings and their red markings made them re symbol of the sun, therefore, life.

It is said that a phoenix once fought in the trojan war, along side Achilles and Patroclus giving them protection alongside their allies. The man was taller than any human could ever be, some text described him as 2.40 meters tall (7 foot 10) with short black hair and skin tattered with flames patterns on his hands, feet, back and shoulders. His golden eyes and deep lucent black irises were always focused on the enemy, never leaving them out of sight and using his personal spear and bow to gain casualties to laugh about. But the most outstanding feature were his wings, big and slender, filled with bright golden orange and red sharp feathers used as weapons.

It was you who did all of that, it was you who had a personality that had you killed many times and then be reborn until the modern days.

You had been alive for more than 2000 years in a constant cycle of life and death, the more you lived, the more you knew how to brawl, study and everything making you a respected being. But only one thing you didnt learn, and that was how to love. You tried over and over again, falling and then watching them die or cheat or abandon you.

There was this one girl, a princess of a powerfull kindom whom you really loved. It was clear she did the same as after some years she offered her body for you to worship and have a child, or so you thought. One evening, as she spoke of tussling in the sheets, she mentioned that she really needed to know if your love was true by chopping off your wings and offering them. The ones that made you fly into the scorching sun, between the lush green mountains of their pearly white peaks. You listened to her, with half lidded eyes and a gone mind too captured by her demeanors and features didn't notice the sharp pain scattering itself from your back. Your breath itched and then was gone, and so were your wings. Thick golden rivers of blood flew your open lacerations, carving paths of your lover back and forming deep lakes on the marble floor.

You couldnt yell from the pain, only managing to fall on the ground and squirming like a worm as your mind was becoming more foggy by the minute. You managed to shoot them open for a split second and you caught a glimps of the guard’s bloodied swords, they were beautifully adorned by your golden essence. You spat out a ‘’traitor’’ and an ‘’I will end you’’ before closing your eyes and feeling death wrapping itself inside your now broken heart.

You loved and that was how you were repaied. You woke up in your den on the peaks of the mountain you were once born. The cave was simple and you always hated that, wanting more was the reason you left it for years before coming back there everytime you closed your eyes, now you wanted nothing more than to sleep in it forever.

Tears rolled off your eyes and you screamed at top of your lungs, animalistic rage speaking and screaming. Your wings were no more, your essence was no more, what was a phoenix without its wings? Nothing. Fake love tore your wings apart and that feeling nestled itself in your soul. Never again you would’ve loved someone again.

From fists, to spears, to daggers, to swords to guns you made your way into the world. Now you were in the military, you decided that this was going to be your forever life. Generals wanted you for your skills, sharpened for thousands of years and your reflexes, your knowledge and your loyalty as you had noone to be loyal to.

From humans to monsters was no easy passage. Seeing their bodies slowly mutate into feral ones wasn’t a shook to you, you saw and felt worse. Your mind didn’t care about your ‘’friends’’ of the battlefield, not until you saw a one winged dragon discussing with a wraith.

You were boarding on a plane towards Urzikstan, voices told that there was a new wanna-be-lord to be taken care of and you were chosen along many other people. As you had your head low and fixated into nothingness you heard some commossion, looking at that direction you made eyecontact with that green dragon. You sneakered and laughed, mocking its inability to fly and the way he was compulsively smoking before boarding the cargo plane.

He eyed your form before crumbling his cigar into smoking bits and yelling you to fuck off. As you sat on the metal seat, squished between other captains you felt some weak embers leaving your hands and falling off your fingers as they become just a non-existing spark.

That was bad, you did that only when you felt yourself falling for someone, that was not happening. Not anymore.

Little did you know that from love you lost your wings, and from love you shall recieve your wings back. In a way. Or another.

[gor3-hound]

slice of heaven

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, religious themes, p in v, soft, fluffy sex and a little crying

a/n: i was gonna wait to post, but thought i’d drop this fic before uni starts up again so you guys could have a little something before my posting becomes more infrequent! hope you like it :)

word count: 1.1k words

“Are you sure you want this?” The words are whispered breathlessly against the skin of your neck, Leon's lips brushing you lightly, his grip strong on your waist. What he means to say is, are you sure you want me? But the words get caught in his throat. He can't ruin this moment. He doesn't want to scare you off. You nod softly, lips parted as your soft breaths fall from between them.

”Yeah… please.” You murmur, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access. A shudder of heat runs through Leon, his fingers tightening around you. He sucks marks into your skin, claiming you. A way to tell himself you’re really his. You’re not going to slip from his grasp and become lost. You won’t be another name on the list of the people that have left him. He wouldn’t survive it.

I’m not good enough for you. I’m a broken man. We can’t be together.

He forces that part of himself under wraps, ignoring the feelings you inspire within him. As gentle as possible, Leon lets his fingers drift away. I’ll hurt you. I’ll tear your life apart. I’m not capable of love.

He can’t keep his hands off of you for long. He’s never been able to. His palms slide up your arms as gently as he can manage before he cups your cheeks tenderly, tilting your face up to meet his. He holds you carefully, like you’ll break if his grip tightens even slightly. His eyes duck down to your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as he bends his head down slightly to meet your lips. You taste like everything he’s ever wanted. Like Heaven just opened its gates and bestowed its blessing upon him.

For the first time in his life, he can feel his heart pounding, his hands trembling, in a good way. You feel like everything he’s ever wanted. You’re so sweet, so… perfect. The only time his brain doesn’t try to eat him alive is when he’s with you. You make him forget. Nothing he’d ever do would be able to thank you enough for the brief reprieve you give him from his thoughts. Sometimes, he hopes the ground would open up and swallow him whole, put him six feet under where he belongs.

Maybe he belonged with you. Like this.

He pulls away hesitantly, afraid this is all a trick, that once more, his happiness had been snatched out from under him. But your lips curve into a smile, and your hand rests on his jaw. That tells him that this is real.

You are real.

”I love you.” He croaks out, his breathing shallow. He’s tearing up. God, is this what he’s come to? He’s already so pathetic that a simple kiss is enough to send him reeling. His thumb brushes the corner of your lip, the curve of it. All he wants is to make you happy, even if it means he’ll have to let you go. His innocence died years ago, ripped cruelly from his grasp before he had an opportunity to even appreciate it. You still have it - that light in your eyes. A sense of hope in this world.

He hopes that if he sticks close enough to you some of that will rub off on him. Make him whole again. He’d worship you gladly, spend hours on his knees buried between your thighs. He’s not good with words, but he’ll show you how much he loves you. How much he craves your presence.

“I love you, too.” God, your voice. It makes his knees weak. Those words alone feel like enough for him, like all his sins would have been forgiven. He didn’t deserve you, but you were here. With him. Maybe God was rewarding him for his years of suffering, the nightmares that still haunt him at night. His own tiny piece of Heaven, wrapped up in a pretty bow and presented right for him in his arms.

His lips meet yours again, more desperately this time. You kiss him back just as passionately, his tongue probing at your bottom lip before sliding into your mouth. His hands grip at your shirt, slowly tugging it off. It’s not long before the two of you are in a tangle of limbs, greedily tugging at each other’s clothes as you collapse onto the bed.

”Leon, please. Need you.” You pant, the sound of his name on your tongue is both torture and mercy all at once. Call out his name, and he’ll be baptised. Born anew, washed free of his sins. Never in his life has he found a more beautiful sound than how your lips say his name. If he could, he’d have it on a constant loop in his head. It drives him insane, festering in the depths of his mind. You’d cared your name into his heart, made a home for yourself in his head. He’d never be free of you, and he’s not sure he wants to be.

”I got you, honey.” He manages after a moment of just staring at you. He lines himself up carefully with your drippy hole, pushing himself inch by inch inside of you. He moves so slowly, his hands caressing your side as he continues to push until he’s buried fully inside your heat.

“Fuck, baby. So good.” He says quietly, his voice cracking. He grinds his hips against your momentarily, shuddering as he hears you moan. He pulls out and thrusts back in, a small sob leaving him. You’re so quick to comfort him, your hands on his cheeks, rubbing at his cheeks.

”God, ‘m so sorry. Just needed this, sweet girl. Needed to feel close to you.” He pants out, shaking slightly as he thrusts sloppily into your wet cunt. His hand slips down your stomach slowly, his palm resting below your belly button. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles into it.

”That good for you, baby?” He asks gently, his eyes finding yours as he increases the pace of his thrusts slightly. He’s not gonna last long this time. Not when he’s been away from his precious girl for so long. He smiles a little when you nod, increasing the pressure before angling his hips to hit your sweet spot with every thrust.

He relishes in the sounds of your moans, how sweet it sounds as you babble his name over and over again. He lets out a slight whimper at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock as you cum, your back arching as you gush all over him. He thrusts shallowly a few more times before he’s pulling out, cumming all over the inside of your thighs. He leans over to grab his shirt, wiping you off gently before chucking it to the side. He pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead and caressing your back gently.

When he dies, he doesn’t think he’ll go to Heaven. But that’s alright, ‘cause he’s found his own slice of it right here on earth.

[milequaritchsslut]

Aged Up Yandere Neteyam x Fem Reader Part 1

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, reader being very naive, teasing, mentions of death, possessiveness, fluff, manhandling, kissing, heavy manipulation, mentions of alcohol, marking, crying, tainted reality, abuse, reader being poisoned, worrying, yandere, name calling, fighting, violence,

Word count: 7.2k

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

…

Anything you did was perfect in his eyes. His attraction towards you grew more and more everyday. Every interaction he shared with you, he cherished. He saw you as otherworldly. You were the only thing he thought of, everything he did reminded him of you. His interest in you was never ending, he wanted you with him at all times. But he didn’t want to frighten you, in fact he didn’t want you to know at all. He was smart about it, never talking about you to his family or friends. Always denying his interest in you whenever his friends asked. You were his only hobby, the only thing on this planet that Interested him.

The women of his clan seemed to also have an interest in this young man. He was very attractive and this easily attracted attention. No matter what he did, some girl would compliment him on it. It was nice at first, but he soon became more and more annoyed by these basic women. He couldn’t believe the nerve they had, thinking they were good enough for him? Nobody was good enough for him, only you. You were his one true love, the only woman who was more than worthy of his attention.

Though you never thought of it that way, you hadn’t noticed his lingering stares or how he always made excuses to see you. You kept to yourself most of the time, you weren’t shy or anything. You just didn’t like sharing yourself with others. Except for him, Neteyam Sully never judged you. He was so trustworthy in your eyes, you two had become very close over the last year. You considered him your best friend, though you wished he could be more than that. You were delusional at this point, he was so obviously in love with you.

Even your friends had made you aware of it. When you’d talk to them about him. Sitting in your hut while you weaved your bracelets and necklaces with beautiful pearls and crystals found around the forest. Your friend Kimpi sitting next to you, weaving a pearl bracelet for her mothers birthday had butted into the coversation between you and your close friend Zurka. “So y/n when are you and Neteyam getting mated” she teased, a smile spreading on her dark blue skin. “Kimpi he does not like me like that! We are just close friends” you stated, still so convinced he didn’t share feelings with you. “Y/n he’s always looking at you!” Zurka pushed, grabbing a Pearl from Kimpi’s pile.

Your skin soon turned dark getting flustered at the thought of him staring you down. His eyes were deeper then the heat of the sun, and his lashes thicker than any you’d ever seen. “I’m too scared to say anything anyways” you confessed, changing your position from being hunched over for so long. You were planning on giving this necklace to Neteyam as a gift.

You were always giving him things to remind him of you. Hand woven bracelets, a new knife holster he could use on trips, or just simple rocks you had found on the forest ground while adventuring. They were innocent little gifts you gave, you didn’t mean for them to be anything more. Though Neteyam had a different idea in mind, he cherished your gifts. He saved them all in his hut, always wearing them no matter how ridiculous they looked. If they came from you then they were perfect is how he saw it. His friends would tease him for wearing those girly bracelets saying things like “strong men don’t wear bracelets!” or “those look ridiculous Neteyam”. He scolded them each time, and they soon learned to never mention them. Whenever it came to you, he defended you with his life. He didn’t care if you were in the wrong, because in his mind you were right.

Today was your clans yearly celebration to welcome in growth and prosperity. The clan would feast before eclipse, and party till the sun came up. You had never went to it, scared you’d get too drunk. You had planned on staying home again this year but those plans would soon be forgotten. You and neteyam planned on going to the watering hole with a few of his and your friends for the day. Walking next to neteyam, he had his arm around your shoulder as you walked together. Neteyam was very touchy with you ever since you two had become close. You weren’t bothered by it, in fact you enjoyed having a strong guy like him having his hands on you. Though you did get flustered by his touch, you never stopped him. He loved having his hands on you, even just moving a strand of your hair out of the way made him happy. Any excuse to touch you he took it, but he was respectful about it. Making sure to never wander too low, scared to make you uncomfortable.

“Hey lovebirds, we’re almost there” Rawpi one of Neteyams friends announced, looking back at you two as he walked next to Zurka. With Kimpi and Kilun giggling in front of them. You averted your gaze to the mossy ground, from Rawpis comment.

“Hey don’t listen to him, he’s a skxwang” squeezing your shoulder, smiling down at your flustered state.

“Thanks Teyam” appreciative of his lightheartedness, you eased up and let the sun hit your dark blue skin once again. Today was especially hot, with no clouds covering the sky. Everyone had sweat beading down their faces, fanning themselves with whatever they could bring with them.

…

Laying on the sandy ground with a rock supporting your head, you rested your eyes. You planned on sunbathing today, allowing its rays to burn into your skin seemed like a perfect day to you. Neteyam hesitating to join his friends, soon abandoned the idea and came over to you. He’d rather watch you lay in the sun, than not be in your welcoming presence. Walking over to your spread out figure, and ignoring his friends asking him to join them. He stood over you like a beast about to devour their prey, his eyes devoured your position. Wishing it could just be you and him, splayed on the sand holding each other letting the sun burn you both. Sitting down next to you he inhaled your scent, soon finding himself hovering over your body to engulf your scent.

”hey y/n” smiling down at you, now trapping you under him. He had dreamed of this, having you under him so many times, it was basically a memory indented into his mind. You were the only person on his mind, from sunrise to sunset. He was dedicated to you, he only wanted to make you happy. His obsession consumed him and every fiber of his being. He lived to please you and only you.

Opening your eyes, you stared up at the strange position he had you in. “N-neteyam why are you so close?” Flustered, your skin darkened again. Noticing this Neteyam giggled at your embarrassment, you got flustered so easily. “I wanted to lay with you y/n” brushing his finger past your warm cheek. You nodded, letting him shift his weight on your body. Laying his head onto your chest, he nuzzled into your embrace. Getting comfortable he began to purr as he held your frame in his hands. Closing his eyes, you did the same, brushing his soft braids with your hands. Smiling at his cuteness, he seemed so sweet, so innocent just wanting to lay with you.

As you rested neteyam couldn’t help but inhale your scent once again. Your scent distracted his concentration, you smelled so sweet to him. He wanted to attached himself to you, keeping you safe from the worlds dangers. He was possessive of you, always holding you close in public places, eyeing down any man who dared lay their eyes on you. He had to stop himself every time a man talked to you, imagining their dead body under him as he plunged his dagger deeper and deeper each time. He wished he could make you stay away from the outside world, wishing he was the only person you’d talk to, scared that you’d get hurt. In his eyes, he was the only person who could protect you, the only one you needed. He wished you would see that, that all you needed was him and nobody else. He wanted to control you, control every interaction you had with anyone who wasn’t him. You were so fragile, so innocent, anyone could corrupt your sweet little mind.

That was why he would claim you as his tonight, asking to be yours. No not asking, demanding you to submit to him. He had done everything to win you over, he never put you down, always complimenting your appearance, always taking you places you’d never been to, always standing up for you, never putting his responsibilities over you. He had created this image of himself that you saw that you could never stay away from. A man who would never hurt a fly, who would go out of his way to help his people. You entrusted him with all your secrets, which he always kept to himself. You had let your walls down for him, you had been hurt so many times by so many people. He was a breathe of fresh air to you, he loved you for who you really were.

The day went by fast, opening your eyes you had realized you had spent the day laying with neteyam. Looking down at neteyams position you noticed how tightly he was holding you, like you were his stuffed animal he slept with at night. The realization caused a smile to grow, looking up you saw your friends getting out of the water and heading towards you. “Ooo y/n and Neteyam are in looove” Kimpi teased, getting the other kids to laugh. Rolling your eyes, you softly shook neteyam out of his sleep to stop the embarrassment. Lifting his head up, his eyes were half awake looking up at your warm smile. “You are so comfortable to lay on y/n” he admitted, rubbing his head against your neck, trying to warm himself even more then he already was. “Neteyam we have to go it is almost eclipse” you warned, now even more embarrassed by his sudden actions. Lifting himself off of you he scanned your body for any sunburn. “Are you ok y/n? You are very warm” checking behind him, he noticed the group drawing closer.

Quickly removing himself from you, he lent out a hand. Neteyam had always been a ladies man. Always helping you out, even when you didn’t need it. But in his eyes you were a fragile piece of art that needed to be kept safe at all times. Not looking into his eyes as you replied “Thank you Teyam”. On the walk back you and neteyam talked about a handful of things. Mostly about the party later that night, Neteyam had told you he had to go to it as the chiefs son and invited you to join him.

“Idk Teyam, I don’t wanna get too drunk” the thought causing a laugh to erupt from your dry throat.

“I’ll make sure you don’t.” He suggested, he’d rather have you with him than with your friends. He didn’t like them much, he saw them as bad influences on you. They would be getting drunk with you, and he didn’t need them getting you into any trouble. “I’ll keep you by my side the whole time” Glancing back to your friends, you agreed hoping being with him would make it fun. You loved partying, it was one of your hobbies in fact. You were always out with your friends, getting invited to parties almost every night. You enjoyed it, it was how you let out your frustrations. Dancing the night away was your way of letting everything out.

By the time everyone had gotten back, the feast had already begun. You felt bad because you had made Neteyam late. But he reassured you his father wouldn’t be mad. Sitting next to him around the fire, you talked with him about his duties and how it was hard for him. “I’m sorry your father makes you do those things Teyam that’s not fair” offering him your drink. As he took a sip, you noticed Kimpi walking towards you and waving as she came closer. Kneeling down behind you “Hey some kids our age are having their own party. You and neteyam should come” glancing between the both of as she waited for you response. “No we’re gonna stay here but thanks” annoyed that she was even talking to him. “Cmon neteyam it’ll be fun” hoping he’d join you, you stood up waiting for him.

“Y/n that is not a good idea” his expression changed to one you had never seen. It kind of scared you, he seemed to be mad at you for suggesting it. “Yeah neteyam it’ll be fun” Kimpi joined in. His gaze darkened at her budding in “I wasn’t talking to you Kimpi” his voice stern as he talked. “Please neteyam, I promise I won’t drink” placing your hand on his shoulder, you rubbed it hoping it would calm him down. To your surprise it did, getting up he took your hand and nodded giving you a smile.

Kimpi had led you to a small bonfire with kids your age dancing and being loud. There was loud music coming from a radio left behind by the humans, that everyone was dancing to. You didn’t understand the words, but it was still catchy. Looking at neteyam you smiled as you ran to the mob of loud teens. Neteyam annoyed, went to get a drink, never taking his eyes off you. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t need any guys hitting on his future mate. Or even worse trying to take advantage of you.

As you danced, you hadn’t noticed the attention you had drawn to yourself. Someone in particular was eyeing your swaying frame, Kilun one of Neteyams friends. Who was already highly intoxicated from the booze walked towards you. Taking your hand in his he began to dance with you, looking up at him you immediately smiled. He was a mutual friend, who you enjoyed the company of. You innocently jumped with him, his hands moving to your waist. He drunkenly admired your hips shimmering in sweat. Moving his gaze to your face, he unapologetically winked playfully. You giggled at him, as he twirled you around and dipped you in his arms. As you lost yourself in the heat of the moment, Kilun quickly backed away leaving you standing by yourself. “Kilun where are you going?” Walking towards him, frantically wanting your dancing partner back. “S-stop y/n don’t come any closer” he warned, frightened he put his hand out to stop you from touching him, and turning around to leave you by yourself.

Unbeknownst to you neteyam had been watching you and Kilun the whole time. Rage engulfing his vision, he had decided to break you two apart, walking behind you. A dark aura surrounded him, causing people to back away from him in the crowd. His breathe had become hot and hitched, his hands balling into fists from the way Kilun handled you. As you stood there a large hand pulled you back. Their grip almost leaving a bruise on your arm. As you were pulled you turned to face them, stumbling on your feet as they dragged you out of crowd. “H-hey that hurts!” You protested, realizing it was Neteyam you studied his body language as he led you outside of the crowd.

Standing over you his chest heaved in vexation, anger seeped through his pores as he looked at you through his darkened eyelids. Your hands immediately went behind your back, scared by his body language you averted eye contact. Letting out a long breathe he spoke “I told you this wasn’t a good idea y/n, he had his hands all over you. Imagine what would have happened if I didn’t step in Hm?” He talked to you as if you were a child who just disobeyed their parents. “I-I’m sorry Neteyam” scared, your eyes started getting teary. You sniffled trying to keep them in, wiping your eyes as you looked down. Watching you, a wave of guilt moved through him. He shouldn’t have been so stern, now he had hurt you. “Hey, hey it’s ok y/n. I-I shouldn’t have been so mean I’m sorry” Pulling your small frame into him, as he wrapped his strong arms around you. The sudden contact caused your tears to finally come out. You cried into his chest, feeling the salty drops cover his chest. “I-I-It hurt when you pulled me Teyam” stuttering over your own words, as you held him close. Tears clouding your vision as your sobs filled his senses.

“Y/n I’m so sorry. I just- I don’t want other men touching you like that. Because I- Idk how to say this y/n.” Holding you closer with every word. It broke his heart seeing you like this, and it being caused by his own actions. “Neteyam wh-what are you trying to say?” Pulling away to look into his eyes. Your sobs instantly stopped, awaiting his next words. Speaking first “I- I like you” you blurted out, caught up in the feeling that rode through your body. “I like you too y/n” he replied, slowly entangling his lips with your puffy ones. Your eyes closed shut, taking in the moment. You wrapped your hands into his braids, gripping them as he relentlessly indulged into your taste. You began kissing back, sliding your tongue through his soft lips. He tasted like sweet honey, made from the depths of heaven itself. Finally needing air you tried to pull back, but he only deepened the kiss holding you closer into his grip. Not letting you out of his comfort, you tasted too sweet to let go of. He had waited so long to taste you, just for you to pull back so quick.

As you finally freed yourself of his grip, you gasped for air. Letting the oxygen fill your lungs. Making eye contact with him, a sly smirk grew on his soft features from your heightened state. Smiling back, you rolled your eyes and you licked your lips letting yourself fall onto his muscular chest. “Am I a good kisser?” He asked, rubbing his hands on your head. A hint of sarcasm added at the end of his question. His chest still heaving from just seconds ago. Tightening your grip you nodded into his chest as his arms wrapped around you. “Let’s take you home” he suggested as he took your hand leading you back to the village. Agreeing you followed him, the air seemed to change as you walked. It felt new and refreshing, maybe you were just tried? A smirk began to grow on his face once again. You were his now, he owned you, you were all for him to have, and he loved it. All his desires were falling into place, he loved you so much.

You were too beautiful for this world to see, he thought. You had looked so beautiful when you pulled away, your out of breathe state was embroidered into his mind. Your tears glazing your vision, the way your chest had heaved from one simple kiss ignited something in him. He needed you with him at all times, he was scared someone else would be able to see you in that state. That was for him and only him to see, he needed everyone to know that you were his. He needed to mark you, here and now. Without another thought, his lust entranced him. Pinning you against the first tree in his line of sight, he made room for his canines by moving your head out of the way for his. Startled by his actions your breathe stammered “Neteyam what are yo-“ being cut off by his fangs sinking deep into your neck.

You cried out in pain, tears coming down your face once again. Coming up to your face he quickly comforted you, peppering kisses from your cheek down to your neck. “I’m sorry baby- but I had to” placing one last kiss on your quivering lips. Your eyes filled with fear from the image in front of you. His pupils had dilated, frightened you stumbled on your words “T-Teyam your eyes-“ wiping your tears with his scruff hands he quieted you down “shh shh y/n it’s ok” placing another kiss on your temple. “Teyam you’re scaring me” you begged still shook from his past actions. “Baby you’re not thinking straight- everything's ok I got you” holding you in his arms. The way he comforted you, calmed you down. Made you think about your actions, maybe you weren’t thinking straight, now that you had thought about it you were really tired. He would never hurt you intentionally right? He’s a sweet guy, he’d never lie to you about something like that. Convinced you nodded, letting him wipe the tears from your rosy face.

“I-I’m sorry I overreacted Teyam” changing your gaze to the soft soil under you, embarrassed by your overreaction. His gaze softened at your innocent apology “Oh its ok baby, you’re just tired let’s get you home yeah?” Letting you stand up he reached for your hand again, leading you back to the village. That seemed like it was just yesterday now, you and neteyam have been a couple for a few months. You were always by his side, no matter where you two were the other was never far behind. Ever since you two got together it seemed almost like he never let you go out. It was always some excuse “But you hung out with them last week” or “It’s almost eclipse you shouldn’t be out” or “If you care about me you’ll listen to what I asked” . But he was just being kind, he didn’t want you to get hurt. Today you finally planned a day out with Kimpi and Zurka, you were having a picnic in the forest.

Excited, you got up early in the morning to get ready. As you got your basket ready, neteyam had walked in. Surprised you looked at him in confusion, it was still early in the morning and he wasn’t one to loose sleep so easily. “Neteyam why are you up so early?” You asked still filling up your basket. “I could ask you the same thing” annoyed he didn’t avert his gaze, waiting for you to pay attention to him. The room seemed to get hot with his presence, but you’ve gotten used to it. “Remember Teyam? I’m going out with Kimpi and Zurka!” Reminding him of your conversation you had about a week ago. Jogging his memory he sighed “You know I don’t like them y/n, they aren’t good for you”. You noticed how he had an agenda against them, but you just couldn’t understand why. They had never been mean to him in any way that you were aware of. Standing up to meet him you walked up, cupping his cheek in your hand before giving him a peck on his temple “I promise I’ll be safe” before walking past him. His hand quickly gripped onto your wrist causing you to stop in your tracks and look up at him. “This conversation is not done y/n” gaze darkening, as he looked at you through hooded eyes. “Neteyam that hurts” you pleaded, trying to rid of his grip. “why don’t you listen to me baby Hm? I don’t ask that much of you, why can’t you fucking listen to me?” Annoyed he let go of your wrist and walked out mumbling to himself as he did. Leaving you with your thoughts, why was he so cold to you sometimes? What had you done that was so wrong?

Walking out of your hut still a bit frizzled by what just happened, you went looking for Kimpi and Zurka, to find them waiting at the edge of the village. Waving to them, you watched their expressions change into smiles. “Hey guys!” You exchanged smiles as you began to walk with them. “Hey y/n! We haven’t hung out in forever it feels like!” Zurka suggested, as you drew closer to the picnic spot. “Oh yeah, neteyam has been so needy lately” you confessed, tired of him for now. “Well that’s actually one of the reasons we planned this picnic y/n” Kimpi added. Confused you shared looks at both of them. Coming to the spot, you set down the food. Zurka splayed out the blanket, as Kimpi got out the drinks. Once you all got settled , you spoke first. “So what did you guys want to talk about?” Sitting across from them both, as you plopped a berry in your mouth and took a sip of water.

“we don’t think neteyam is good for you y/n” Kimpi let out, she worried for you and your health. “It seems hes very controlling of everything you do, we don’t want you to be with someone like that”. Her position soon changed as she stiffed up, hoping you’d listen to them. “You’re always canceling plans because of him, and he’s very touchy with you when he’s mad y/n” Zurka added, they were wrong you thought. Neteyam would never ever hurt you, he loves you too much. He always tells you how he would never hurt, and he’s a man of his word. Maybe he was right, were they really jealous of your relationship? “Neteyam would never hurt me, he loves me too much. Stop worrying about me I promise you guys I’m ok” It seemed as if the air had gotten heavy, because your eyelids felt heavy. Blinking continuously, you tried to stay awake. Your friends noticing your sleepy state, Zurka confused came closer laying her hand on your shoulder trying to keep you awake “Y/n snap out of it” snapping in front of your face. Your vision blurry, you fell back closing your eyes.

Opening your eyes, your felt a hand underneath you. Looking up you blinked trying to make out the face hovering over you. It was Neteyams, “neteyam where’s Kimpi and Zurka?” Sitting up from his lap. Your hands coming to hold you up as you looked around. “They left you with me when you passed out” running his hands through your hair. “I was feeling fine though, I don’t know why I passed out” you added, still confused. “How long have I been here Teyam?” Turning to face him, you wrapped yourself around him with your face in the crook of his neck. “Oh about a few hours, I was worried for you y/n” planting a kiss on your neck as he talked.

“I don’t mean to worry you Teyam” saddened that your boyfriend would worry for you like that. He asked “Can I tell you something baby?” Moving your face to look at him, he looked into your eyes for approval. Nodding you let him speak “I think your friends might have poisoned your food”. “Teyam what are you saying?” “I’ve told you they aren’t good for you baby, and now look what happened when you hung out with them” taking in his words, you thought about what he said, “Teyam they would never do that to me!” Your thought process was wrecked a the thought they would really poison you, they were your best friends. But maybe he was right, they did say they didn’t want you to be with Neteyam. So maybe this was how they tried to break you apart. “Baby I would never lie to you about something like this, I don’t want you getting hurt” bringing you back into the hug he planted more kisses down your face as he rocked you in his arms.

“I-I know Teyam, they did tell me something though” all of a sudden he stopped, his movements came to a halt at your words. “What did they tell you baby?” Still holding you.“They don’t want you to be with me, they think you’re toxic and we shouldn’t be together” you confessed, tracing small circles on his back. A loud sigh came out of him, as if a weight had just been lifted off his shoulders. “My love I told you they were jealous of us, now this shows that I was right” rubbing the base of your spine as he spoke. His embrace was warm, and subtle. You felt safe within him, so warm and inviting. You loved it when he held you, you would lay with each other for hours on end. Just laying in the sun, as he held you tight. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you Teyam” “I forgive you baby, you were just blinded by their jealousy“. After your conversation, you spent the rest of the day with neteyam in his hut. Kiri had come in to weave a knew hunting socket. Sitting criss crossed a few feet away from you and neteyam “so how was your picnic y/n?” Too focused on her weaving to look up. Looking at neteyam, he nodded as you explained.

…

“I don’t think Kimpi would do that to you y/n, maybe you were just tired” Kiri said trying to give you a voice of reason.

Neteyam suddenly got stiff as he held you in his arms, your back flush to his chest. “Are you saying I’m wrong sister?” He asked, his breath coming out hard as he spoke. “No- I just think you need to rethink your decisions brother” finally looking up, only to be met with an angry figure making eye contact with her. “Neteyam are you-“ quickly being cut off “I knew it! You are jealous of me and y/n kiri, you are my sister you should be happy for me!” His voice loud, as the room ran cold. Astonished Kiri sat there for a long while, surprised by her brothers words. She’s been nothing but supportive of you and Neteyam’s relationship since the start. Always saying how cute you two looked together, never snitching on him when he snuck out to see you after eclipse. She was the last person on pandora who would ever want to break you two apart. She soon shook her head, as disgust washed over her face. Her brother’s accusations turning her demeanor cold.

Your ears twitched from the tension that had flooded the room. You didn’t understand what neteyam was talking about, you saw nothing but support from Kiri ever since you had got together. “Is that really what you think of me neteyam?” She asked, her current distraction now put to the side. “It’s the truth” gritting his teeth as he spoke. “You are ridiculous Neteyam!” Taking her hunting socket, and leaving the room she left you and Neteyam alone again. You were embarrassed by his actions, accusing his own sister of trying to break him up? Was he crazy or something? You moved yourself out of his grasp to sit in front of him. You had a worried look on your face as you sat looking at his uneasy state. “Teyam what has gotten into you? Kiri would never be jealous of us” Squinting at him, still confused you waited for his answer.

Neteyam still visibly angry, huffed at your response to his comment. “Have you never seen her eyes lingering on us before? She’s always looking at us, I can see the jealousy in her eyes. How have you never noticed it?” His ears lowering down, as he spoke. Worry soon replaced your confusion, as the words came out of him. “Teyam please don’t act this way towards your sister, she just wants what’s best for both of us” rubbing your hands up and down his thigh, hoping he’d calm down. He was annoyed with you, how could you not see what he saw? It was so blatantly obvious to him. You were one of a kind, and everyone wanted you. Everyone envied him for it, he was so lucky to have you and he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin it for him. Not Kiri, not your stupid friends, nobody would get in his way when it came to you. You deserved every gem that this beautiful planet could offer, every desire you ever had he would provide to you. Though you never asked him for much but his love, he never fell short from astonishing in your eyes.

But sometimes you couldn’t help but become disappointed in him when he got like this. You were disappointed in him, he was the next Olo’eyktan and he was making accusations left and right. He didn’t mean any harm right? He just wanted what was best for you both, and you needed to obey. He was more detailed than you when it came to these kinds of things, maybe you just weren’t aware. He was wise for his age, he must be right then. Neteyam noticing your discomforting state, he reached for your hand. Rubbing it a few times, and softening his body before he spoke “Y/n I know what I saw, and I need you to be on my side for this-Please?” Cupping your cheek in his hands, rubbing it softly as he waited. Looking down at your bracelet “ok” came out. Moving your gaze to his soft expression, as you obeyed him.

You hadn’t seen Kiri in weeks, after the incident with neteyam. You weren’t looking forward to the interaction anyways. Today you were working with Neytiri for Tshaik training. Since you and neteyam were almost of age to mate, Neytiri had been training you day in and day out. Inside of the nursing hut, you were hunched over a bowl as you crushed herbs to help an injured warrior. “Yes yes just like that y/n” Neytiri said encouraging your actions, as she bandaged up the warriors bloody arm. Hearing the curtain move, you turned your attention behind you watching Kiri walk in with her arm bleeding. Neytiri noticing she quickly asked you “Go and help Kiri” pointing to the injured girl across the room.

Nodding you got up and greeted her “Come sit Kiri” bringing her to the closest mat. Her expression changing into a small smile, she had expected you to be cold from your last interaction “Thank you y/n”. Sitting down in front of you, you quickly grabbed the supplies next to you and got to work. Grinding the herbs into your small bowl, you could feel Kiri’s eyes burning into your scalp. Clearing your throat you looked up meeting her gaze “So how have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks” you spoke, out of pure curiosity. Excited to answer she replied quickly “Well I finished bonding with my ikran, she’s beautiful! Her name is Aruka” A happy Kiri was displayed in front of you, her smile was contagious. Causing her energy to spread to you, you smiled back “Oh Kiri that is great! I am so happy for you!” Your eyes full of happiness with your ears perked. Her wound coming back into your line of sight you asked “So what brought you here today?” Moving her hand out of the way, for a better look. It was a deep cut, it seemed to be made by a knife. “Oh uhm- I just cut myself” shying away from your gaze, you became curious as to why she was acting so strange. “Is that what really happened Kiri? You can tell me the truth” rubbing your hand on her knee, searching for her eye contact once again. Before speaking she let out a heavy breathe “It was neteyam, he attacked me”. Your heart dropped from her words. Worried you brought her into a hug before apologizing profusely. “Kiri I am sorry, he should have never done that. I’m going to talk to him about this, I am so sorry he did this to you. You didn’t deserve this” tears welled in your eyes, at the thought of neteyam being so cruel to his own sister. Kiri reassured you she was going to be ok, as you got back to patching her up.

The second you got done fulfilling your duties with Neytiri, you made a beeline to Neteyams hut. As you pulled the curtain back, you were met with a horrible smell. Looking around the hut you found him hunched over, cleaning off his hunting knife. Noticing your presence he quickly got up “My love I missed you!” Walking over, you quickly pushed him back. Too disgusted to hug him, “What is wrong with you!” Infuriated with your mate, you looked for an answer in his eyes.

“What are you talking about mate?” Also searching for an answer in your amber eyes. “Why would you do that to Kiri?” Eyes starting to tear at the image of Kiri’s injured arm. A smile crept onto his face, as if he was proud of his horrible actions. “Oh it’s just a little cut, she’ll be fine” as if that was reassuring to you. “No Neteyam you should have never done that!” you yelled back. Were you seriously yelling at him? Who did you think you were? Your yelling got him riled up. Mad he responded “She deserved it y/n!” He yelled back. He had never yelled at you before, you two had never fought like this. Backing away from his angered frame, he was scaring you. He had just pulled a knife on his own sister, and he was proud? “You are not the same person that you were when I met you” you confessed. Where was that beautiful boy you once knew? The boy who would hold you close, the boy who loved and cared for his siblings, the boy who you loved. All of this was too much for you, too much for your heart to handle.

So you did what came to mind first “I think we should take a break Neteyam” your voice low, as was your gaze. Too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. His heart dropped immediately, were you really going to believe his dumb sister over your own boyfriend? He wouldn’t let this happen, he was nothing without you. He might as well be taken back to Ewya if he couldn’t hold you in his arms. “Y/n your really going to take her side? She was jealous of us! She-She was talking bad about you to Lo’ak and I wouldn’t let that happen. I did it for you, she was the one who pulled the knife on me first!” His lies filled your senses, though you knew he was lying. You couldn’t help but believe him somewhat. Pulling you in for a hug not leaving time for you to respond, he kissed your temple. “Neteyam stop-“ but you were soon interrupted. “I love you y/n pl- please don’t leave me” surprisingly you felt a soft liquid dripping onto your face. To your surprise you looked up to find him crying, holding onto you tight.

Your heart instantly softened at his affection, did you really make this mighty warrior cry? God you were an idiot, why were you so mean to him? He just made a simple mistake right? Feeling bad you hugged him back right away. Letting him feel your tightness surround him and his senses. Feeling horrible about your actions you replied “I’m so sorry Neteyam, I’m not going to leave you- I love you” confessing to your mate. His grip tightened at your loving words, he loved hearing you say it. It was just something about the way you said I love you. It made his senses tingle, and his feet twitch. He loved you so much, he would practically move every mountain for you if you’d let him. He was the one, and you were his to have. But you still had a handful of questions for him “Just don’t ever do anything like that again” you begged, into the comfort of his chest.

I Hope you guys liked this! I’ll be making a part 2 to this if you guys enjoyed it! I would love feedback on this because I’m not too confident for this one so lmk!

Taglist: @ihatethridperiod @neteyam4life

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Ten

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4177

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Lots of Fluff, these two can’t keep their hands to themselves, oral (m receiving), two dumb dumbs in love, mentions of food, Readers nickname is Poppy (no physical description at all), talks of sobriety

Series Masterlist / Playlist/ Main Masterlist

Previous / Epilogue

FLASH * CLICK * FLASH * CLICK

It’s blinding, even with the late afternoon sun perched high above Hollywood Boulevard. 

The theater, El Capitan, its signage bold and ornate give the movie house its old Hollywood charm, welcoming those in attendance to the star studded movie premiere. 

There are so many people, stacks and stacks of bodies with cameras and flashes barricaded behind a wall of bigger cameras with more people holding microphones— masquerading as a friend-next-door the moment the camera rolls, dropping the facade the second the interview is over. 

Dieter is grateful the minute you both step out of the car that you had agreed to attend the event with him, having you by his side to ground him, not knowing what feelings or emotions this movie celebration would evoke— but having you as his plus one, as fans and paparazzi wailed and cheered for him after being away from the spotlight for close to 3 years—made it feel less paralyzing. 

FLASH * CLICK * FLASH * CLICK

It’s a precise balance of excitement and jitters, mixing and swirling a heady cocktail of emotions, nerves tickling at the surface— but the dizzying sensation settles, not dissolved but thinned and manageable the minute his voice hits the chaotic noise filled air. 

“You good?” A steady hand settling on the small of your back, his words a whispered question only meant for you, knowing how overwhelming this whole scene can be, even for someone who has been in the business for as long as he has. 

“Yeah, I’m good— it’s just a lot to take in. I don’t know how you do this regularly?” A hint of a nervous crack in your voice.

“Honestly, I have no clue— my memory of them is a bit hazy— I do know though, having you here makes it seem less terrifying, so thank you for coming. If it’s too much, you can skip it? I can do my obligations and meet you on the other side?” His thumb draws comforting circles to the opening where your dress reveals your bare skin.

“N-no— I can manage, I’m sure once we get moving it will be fine. Would rather stick with you anyway.” Your teeth gnawing at your lower lip, keeping your focus on him only, as you both wait for the line for actors, producers and directors before you to continue down the strip of red plush carpet. 

“Have I told you how hot you look in this dress?” He asks against the shell of your ear, a feather light kiss to the juncture of your jaw before pulling back to fix his gaze back on yours.

It's a simple cut, tailor made to your figure. It’s champagne in color with delicate wide straps draped down the curve of your breasts, the satin fabric flowing down the length of your body, the low-cut exposing your back and a romantic train pooling around the ground as you stand. 

“Hmm, I think beautiful, sexy, gorgeous were a few of the terms you used since I slipped into it— I’ll add hot to the list— Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself, Handsome.” 

His double breasted all white suit fit him so well, his white button down lacking the buttoning of the top few buttons, emphasizing the taut lines of his gorgeous neck.

“Alright Mr. Bravo, right this way. You’re going to stop on the designated tape marks briefly, let them get their shot, then make your way to the interviewers and there will also be some fans at the end of the carpet before making your way inside.” 

The sweet young lady assigned to Dieter for the evening debriefed the two of you as you prepared to step out into the sea of flashing madness. Putting you both front and center to the onslaught of yelling and demanding requests from photographers, ensuring they get the angle and shot that their Big-Name-Magazine-Boss will plaster across glossy pages accompanied in tiny print ‘shot by’ next to their name.

“You ready for this?” Dieter asks, almost as if he’s giving you one more chance to bail.

“No, but lead the way Mr. Bravo.” A kiss for good luck to his cheek as he removes his hand from your back, interlocking your fingers together followed by a few squeezes as he starts to guide you to the first stop on the carpet. 

“DIETER! TO YOUR RIGHT!”

“MR. BRAVO! DIETER— RIGHT HERE!”

“DIETER!”

“DIETER!”

“DIETER!”

Dieter’s confident and casual demeanor is charming, standing off to the side as he gets his photo taken, watching him as he does his dutiful requirements as the leading actor at his movie’s premiere. 

You study his profile, angular and captivating, his demure half smile on display as he does his best to look in every direction is name is being called to, the way his chestnut locks look lived in and controlled at the same time,  his overwhelming beauty is doing wonders to keep your nervous thoughts at bay— selfishly eager to get him home to have him all to yourself. 

As the line moves, Dieter keeps you close, your body angled in towards him at the next stop, an arm wrapped low around your waist. Your noses nearly touch when he looks over to you, a silent check in and an excuse to give his eyes a break from the bright bursts of light— honestly any reason to look in your direction. 

“Poppy, babe— I think they want your attention.” His husky voice breaks through the riotous hollering, his head tilting in the direction of where the ‘Miss, this way please!’ is being called out. 

You manage to tear your gaze away from Dieter, no real idea where to look or who to focus on, giving your best not super forced almost toothy grin, taking a few breaks to focus back on Dieter then looking back out to the wall of intense flickers— Dieter’s constant need for his sunglasses making total sense now.

It’s near the end of the carpet, where the interviewing line begins. Reporters asking their stream of questions— some related to the movie, others more personal. But all fairly tame and revolving around the shooting of the movie, wanting to know more about how Dieter worked to bring his character to life and if his sobriety was hard to manage at any point in time during filming. 

The focus directly on Dieter, letting you ride through the interview process with a front row seat. 

“Dieter, this is not a role we’ve seen from you before— it’s new and refreshing I would think. How different was it from your usual rogue characters, to play this soft romantic heartthrob?” The interviewer asks, utilizing her time with many substantial questions. 

“Soft romantic heartthrob? You’re feeding my ego right— give me more! It is very new and refreshing, like you said. But also kind of intimidating, since I’m usually playing some asshole— oops— Sorry! Um, some jerk in most of my roles, which kind of seemed like second nature for me at a point in my career. To then jump into this role, it felt foreign and scary when we started shooting— but I found a rhythm and I’m really happy with how it worked with the rest of the cast.” 

It’s ‘nice meeting you’ or ‘great talking to you again’ before progressing further down the carpet, to the next round of questions. 

“Dieter, congratulations on being almost 3 years sober now! That must be an incredible feeling? Did you find it hard to jump into this movie all while trying to manage your sobriety?” The next interviewer asks. 

“Thank you, that’s kind of you to say. It’s definitely an indescribable feeling, but I’m grateful for it everyday.” He gives your hip a light squeeze as he says it. “Sure, it was hard at times— not because of temptation or anything, but because I wanted to be fully present and show the entire team that I wasn’t going to let them down, it’s just something I actively work on daily now. But coming  into this movie in a new head space,  I was determined to hold myself accountable, making sure I was checking in with everyone too was a big thing for me. Plus, it didn’t hurt to have this gorgeous woman in my corner— I was grateful I got to come home to her every weekend, reset before the new work week.”

It’s the first he’s mentioned you out of all the answers he’s given so far— mostly sticking to directly related to the topic and movie. Your relationship is no big secret in your small town, but this is the first the two of you have attended something of this magnitude as a couple, even after being together for 2 years.

You’re not going to lie though, it makes you melt when he looks at you as he says it, awarding you with his lopsided smile and a wink before redirecting his attention back to the reporter.

“Miss, what do you think was the contributing factor in helping Dieter stay on track for this role.” The microphone pointed at your face as the interviewer looked to you for a response. 

“Umm, I don’t think it was anything I did in particular— Dieter was the one who made all of this happen, I was just there making sure he knew how amazing he was doing through it all— and supported him however he needed me. All of his success is because of him, I can’t take credit for any of that.”

The reporter seems satisfied, thanking you for answering it honestly. 

“You better hang on to her, Dieter. I think you’ve got yourself a keeper with this one!” Trying to strum up some playful banter as the interviewer comes to a close. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t dream of letting her go.” No care to the cameras or anyone around you, as he softly presses a quick peck to your lips— once, twice, three times just because he can. 

“Thank you for your time, Dieter. Enjoy yourselves tonight.” A hand shake to both you and Dieter, sending you off with a grateful smile for chatting with her. 

Each interview had similar questions to previous ones he had already done, but he did his best to give each of them original responses. 

One last interview, a major publication, waiting patiently as you both approach their little assigned space. They’re kind with their questions, which has been a relief for him the entire evening to not be bombarded with any humiliating or embarrassing comments. 

“What does Dieter Bravo do in his spare time now? You’re no longer living in LA, any plans to move back?” A string of new questions are asked to finish off this interview. 

“We own a gallery back in my hometown where I’ve been staying since officially leaving LA, still looking for a permanent place though.” 

“He owns the gallery— I just help run it when he’s off doing his movie star things.” You interject, correcting his statement in a playful manner. 

“Says the woman the gallery is named after. I call her Poppy— Les Coquelicots is poppy in French, also after one of my favorite Monet paintings, so in a weird roundabout way, she does own it— don’t tell her I put her name on the paperwork, so she owns more than she thinks she does.” The last part isn’t a secret because you signed the paperwork, but he loves using the line wherever he can, so you play shocked and laugh right along with him. 

“Are you able to find time to utilize the gallery for yourself? Will we be seeing any art made by the hands of Dieter Bravo?”

“I’ve been working on some things— I won’t say what, don’t want to spoil anything, but there may be something in the works that will be debuted soon-ish.” 

The report congratulates Dieter on his new movie and wishes him the best. 

“That wasn’t so bad. Plus, it was fun listening to you answer all those questions.” 

“I knew you’d enjoy yourself.” Pulling you close to his side as you make your way through the crowd that’s formed at the end of the carpet— agents, assistants, significant others who chose to forgo the carpet entirely, all waiting for the person they came with to finish. 

The assistant from earlier, meets up with you and points to a small group of fans who are all waiting for a chance to meet the stars before they head into the theater. 

You stand back and watch him interact with each of them. Signing magazine and movie posters, pausing for selfies and listening to each of them tell him how proud they are and how excited they are to watch their favorite actor perform in a new film. 

It warms your heart to see him showered with love the entire time. 

“Mr. Bravo, you're going to head in through these doors and there will be someone to help you to your seats.” The sweet young lady guides you both to the main lobby of the theater,  indicating the direction of the main entrance to where the movie will be shown. 

“Actually, can you point us to a side exit— our driver should be waiting for us outside.” Scanning the space for any potential exits that would be easy to slip out unnoticed. 

“Sir, the movie hasn’t started yet— I’m not sure leaving is the best idea. I can have someone come get you and walk you to your seats, the movie should be starting shortly.” The young woman is flustered by Dieter’s attempt to leave early, but just trying to do her job. 

“No offense, but I don’t watch my own shit— you never watch your own shit. You just wipe, flush and move on. I know you’re just doing what you’re told, but if you’ll kindly point out an exit, we’re gonna head home.” 

*

The constant low humming of the car's engine and the way Dieter’s fingers aimlessly map out shapes over your thigh, head resting on his shoulder you’re tucked in close to his warmth in the small back seat, enough to lull you to sleep on the hour and a half drive back home. 

“Hey, Poppy— we’re home.” Dieter murmurs softly as he kisses the top of your head. 

“Hmm?” Lifting your head, dazed as you look out the windows to see the car is parked in your driveway. 

“We’re home. Let’s get you inside.” 

Dieter offers the driver a tip and thanks him for the ride, then grabs for your discarded shoes and your small purse as he slips out of the backseat, hand extended out to you as you follow suit. 

“Oh, shit!” It’s a slight stumble out of the car when your feet hit the cool concrete, falling into Dieter’s awaiting arms, steadying your sleepy frame against his until you're upright and balanced. 

“Thank you.” Voice raspy with sleep, but cognizant enough to give him lingering kiss, a buzz of desire fully awakens you when Dieter deepens the kiss. 

“Mmm, why don’t we take this inside? I think your neighbors have had enough of us at this point.” He mumbles against your eager lips. 

“Meet you inside then.” You purr with one last kiss, before you pull up the hem of your trailing dress and head towards the front door, peeking over your shoulder, bottom lip playfully drawn between your teeth as you wink back at him, still standing in the driveway. 

Shaking his head and laughing, your purse and shoes still in his grip, he follows your lead into the house. 

Dieter’s barely made it over the threshold, closing the door when he feels his body being pressed up against the wooden door, your belongings falling to the hardwood floors with a heavy thud. 

Your mouth moves against his with a fiery want, Dieter falling into the motions seamlessly, his hands gripping at your hips pulling you as close as possible. It’s a dance of angles as your tongue dominates his, exploring as you lick feverishly into his mouth. 

Abruptly, you drop to your knees below him, his eyes blown and he tries to catch his breath. 

“Pop— Poppy…”

His sentence cut off by the sound of his zipper sliding down, rustling of his pants and boxers being pulled to his knees, his cock half hard at just the mere sight of you.  

The press of your lips and tongue against his hip bone is enough to make him fall to the floor, the drag of your upper lip across his skin, breath heated and stirring as you place another to his lower abdomen, wiry hairs tickle at your lower lip— then mirroring the same effort to his other hip. 

“Fuck! Poppy— shit!” His length is hard and throbbing, his mind trying to focus on the way you’re licking the pre-cum as it weeps from the head of his cock, a thick haze of arousal clouding his mind. 

He moans— fucking moans as you take fully in your mouth, his head falling back against the door, a staticy sensation building at the base of his spine at the way he’s repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. 

There’s a lot he wants to say, tell you how perfect you feel around him, how much he loves the way your hands roam about touching every little bit of him as you bring him closer and closer to the peak of his delirium. 

His breath ragged between lovesick whimpers, body tensing in preparation, a slow hum of satisfaction as you continue to move up and down his length— hand gripping tightly at the base of his shaft igniting a hungered fuse. 

“Pop— Fuck! Poppy, I’m gonna— fuckfuckfuckfuck! Babe, I’m gonna come!” 

There’s stars, fireworks, bursts of light. Fists slamming into the door. 

His spend hits the back of your throat, managing to take all of it as he continues to come. 

Warm. Salty. Perfectly him. 

Licking your lips, satisfied with your work, working his suit pants back up, fastening the button as you stand to your full height. 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw then to his neck, his pulse rapid against your lips, you pull back to take in Dieter’s blissed out state. 

“Th-that was unexpected— holy fuck! I just— w-when you— I don’t even know, my brain is mush now.” There’s a rasp to his voice as he tries his best to properly form words, pinched brows and  breathless as his lungs desperately fill with air. 

“Just wanted to make sure you know how amazing I think you are— watching you tonight, seeing how much you love being in your element— I’m really proud of you, I think everyone else is too.”

“Fuck, I love you so much Poppy.” 

He tastes remnants of himself on your tongue, and if he hadn’t just come down your throat minutes ago he would definitely be hard and ready again for you. 

Instead he takes his time just kissing you, pouring every ounce of love and affection he has for you into it, your dress bunching and pulling as his hands anchor your body to his, kneading the swell of your backside— your presence is overwhelming and not enough at the same time. 

There’s a low grumble that cuts into two of you making out, still situated in the front entry of your home. 

“I love you, Dieter. But I think I need something with a little more sustenance, though. I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick, then I’ll pull something out to reheat.” Taking a few steps back from him, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand and adjusting the strap of your dress. 

“Dessert before dinner kind of woman, I like it.” A throwback to your first date. 

“Mmm, you should know me better by now— I’m a dessert anytime kind of woman.” You smirked, mindful of your dress with each slow step backward. 

Dieter pushes off the door, closing the space between you, his mouth molding perfectly over yours, unhurried and attentive. 

“Hurry your sexy self back here.” He murmurs into the last kiss, swatting playfully at your ass before you turn and head towards the bathroom. 

*

A soft ballad drifts through the house as you make your way back to the main living area, the flicker of light emanating from your studio lets you know where Dieter is. 

“Do you want leftover pizza or some of that pasta?” You call out to him, cold air hitting you as the doors to the refrigerator open. 

“Dieter?” 

You pull the containers from the fridge and set them on the island counter, both options sounding like a great idea the more you think about it. 

When you get to the doorway of your studio, you find Dieter sitting, his brush moving with intent over  one of his finished paintings, still finding reasons to add to it.

Arms crossed over your chest, heading resting into the wooden frame as you lean into the doorway, taking in the picturesque scene before you. 

Recounting the moments over the last 2 years that led you to now. 

How every waking minute you want to be consumed by Dieter in some way, he nestles into every single thought or emotion you experience, always able to bring a smile to your face. 

Up until this point, love was the downfall for many of your relationships, loving too much or not enough, a hindrance to your own happiness. 

But with Dieter, there’s a deeper purpose, a greater feeling of being loved and respected. 

His effervescent spirit radiates from his soul, embedding himself into every corner of your heart. 

He’s a tidal wave of intensity, pulling you under and filling your lungs to their fullest capacity, you drown in him, never wanting to surface again. 

You’re grateful for his existence, for barreling into your life at full speed and for loving you with a passion you never knew before him. 

Dieter is your home. 

“That one is my favorite.” You state, moving into the room closer to where he is. 

“Hmm, I think you’re just saying that.” 

“Could be— or it could be the truth.” Your fingers carding through his curls as you stand behind him, admiring each brush stroke and line he created. “I know you don’t think you are, but you’re more than ready— they’re all so beautiful and I’m so lucky to have been witness to you painting each one of them.”

Dieter’s first art opening was next week, but he still found himself second guessing every little detail in each painting— his self criticism lashing out as the days grew closer. 

Silhouettes, every curve and crook shaded and painted in a manner reminiscent of your naked form, not recognizable to anyone but Dieter and yourself. Heads replaced with elaborate bouquets of poppies in washes of pinks, oranges and reds. 

“Okay— they’re done.” He says, placing his brush in the jar of stained water. 

He swivels to face you, his hands resting on your satin covered hips, three brief squeezes— I love you. 

You brush a loose curl off of his forehead, fingers trailing down his face, light scratches to his patchy beard he so proudly grew out. 

“So, you said you’re still looking for a place?” A cheeky smile forms on your face, looking down at where he’s still sitting. 

“I did, didn’t I?” There's a hint of sarcasm as he says it, the corners of his mouth starting to quirk up. 

“Mhmm— is staying on my couch getting too boring for Mr. Movie Star Dieter?” Your head tilts to the side in question, knowing well that in the last two years he hasn’t slept a minute on your couch— save for his afternoon naps. 

He stands, pulling you into his chest, eyes gleaming with an unexplainable excitement as he looks at you. 

“Nah, I love your couch.” He reaches into the pocket of his pants to grab for something. 

“So much so, I think I want to stay on it permanently— if that’s okay with you?” He asks, holding up a shiny object in front of you. 

A gold ring with a 3 carat, princess cut green emerald stone, flanked by two smaller diamonds. It’s ridiculously flashy, looking  exactly like something Dieter would pick out—  and you’re so taken aback by how perfect it is. 

You’re shocked, speechless, in complete awe of what he’s asking you right now, without even outright asking.

“You want to marry me, Dieter?” Your eyes glistening in the candle light, a few tears managing to slip down the slope of your cheeks. 

He slips the ring onto your bare finger. 

“Baby, I want you to be mine forever. Marry me, Poppy?”

Both your worlds, so beautifully different but painted together so well. 

“Yes! Forever— yes!” 

There’s tears and laughter, between shared feelings and drawn out slow kisses, text to friends and family sharing the exciting news. 

 “Thank you, Dieter. I’m so glad I gave your best a chance.” 

Next

A/N: I’ve been so eager to finish this chapter, and the minute I did I cried! I love these two so much!! I’m so fucking grateful for every single one of you who took time out of your day to read, reblog, comment, like, message about this series in any way shape or form— it’s truly been an amazing journey with all of you!! Thank you!! An even bigger thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for her constant support through every single chapter, you are my hero! Epilogue coming soon!

[onlymingyus]

Do Re Mi (70;teen Collab Teaser)

pairing; wen junhui x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), fluff

warnings; unprotected sex, breeding kink, wife!reader, husband!jun, talk about having a baby, fingering, crying, mild dacryphilia, marking, scratching, cumplay

w/c; 4k and some change (570 ~ this teaser)

70s;teen Collab Masterlist

a/n; hope you enjoy. this is my fic for the 70s:teen collab, please make sure you read all the other amazing fics on the masterlist! thank you to @onlyhuis and @wonwussy for proofreading.

this fic will be released sunday 9/17 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

Laughing, Jun washes the soap from his hands and dries them before lifting his arms and turning in his embrace to face you. With a smirk on his face, he goes as far as to bite on his bottom lip and shrug his shoulders.

He was your ground in this chaotic world and right now this was all that mattered. Shaking your head you take a step back towards the living room causing him to laugh as you sway your hips to the music playing low on the record player. It was different from before. This was music for slow dancing, music for lovers.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

Jun smiles brightly when a smile spreads across your pretty face. It didn’t matter how tired he was. Your smile was like a shot of vitamin c injected right into his veins.

“Maybe. I got good vibes about things lately. I’m thinking you should take me to bed,..”

His smile only falters for a moment as Jun licks his lips, his brows furrowing at your words. You made it hard for him to keep his cool around you. It didn’t matter if you two had been married for two years or twenty…Jun felt it in his soul you were going to keep him on his toes.

“You sayin’...”

It’s when you nod, your footstep still walking the two of you backwards closer to the bedroom that Jun’s breath hitches in his throat. The two of you had talked about starting a family a hundred times but the financial situation was never right. It still wasn’t in Jun’s mind… but you saying what you had, Jun couldn’t think about anything else.

A gasping laugh finds your lips when Jun moves quickly picking you up in his arms. Your hands on his shoulders, you kick your legs only to stop when you feel his lips press against the rising fabric of your shirt. A short huff of breath escapes him and you find yourself suddenly furrowing your brows. Your fingers running through his hair as he takes the last few steps through the door to your shared bedroom to lay you on the bed.

Your fingers still threading through your husband’s soft locks, you find your eyes closing to the feeling of his lips finding purchase on your skin as his fingers gently work the button of your jeans loose in the dimly lit room. The only sounds are that of your soft moans, panting breaths, and his strategic kisses that seem to mesh with the music from the living room.

Lifting your hips to the feeling of Jun’s fingers pushing against your hips, you smile finally looking down at him in the low light to find his eyes on you. He had a way about making you feel shy by doing something so simple. Just his eyes on your face as he worked your jeans over your thighs, his breath fanning over your abdomen was enough to cause your cheeks to feel like you were standing too close to an open flame.

“Jun…”

Now he was smiling at your tiny whimper of his name. God, you were like a dream. How had he landed you, Jun would never understand, but he counted his blessings each and every day and especially any chance he had the privilege to between your thighs.

“What is it, little bird? You sound so pretty tonight.”

READ THE FULL FIC NOW ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[whisperiin]

walks in with gifts for you and wanshi and haicma and lee hayyyy

can I ask for hand intimacy headcanons for Chrome,Nabe and Kamui pls? Like how they would hold their s/o's hand and would they kiss their hand etc. pls? Ty and take your time :3 ♡

ALSO DINK OITER,this is a threat (affectionate)

hello chrome's glory!!!!!! staying on trend with the tenderness i see (insert eichi smile dot jpeg) i looooove hands so this req seemed super fun ... i hope u enjoy!! (*´ ˘ `*)♡

hand intimacy hcs ft. chrome, watanabe, & kamui

content warnings: none

CHROME

➸ Especially in the early days of your relationship, CHROME was just a little bit awkward around you — almost hyperaware of every inch of distance between you, and somehow never knowing where to put his hands. Sometimes he caught himself staring at yours, though, watching the way your fingers look as you card through his hair, or how your hands tug on his tie after you insisted on fixing it yourself.

➸ That endearing almost-shyness of him has faded away with time, but it's still somewhat evident in the way he reaches out to hold your hand — a light, gentle grip, like some unspoken question of, is this alright? He'll often find his hand drawn to yours when he feels he needs to keep you — or himself — grounded, or if he doesn't want to lose you in crowded places. For something he was initially so awkward about, it didn't take long for it to become so natural to him, like the way the tense line of his shoulders relaxes at the sight of your smile, or the way he always turns to you during those stuffy, formal military parties, extending a hand to you with a little, May I have this dance?

➸ Chrome has a habit of brushing his thumb over your knuckles whenever he holds your hand, and he just loves kissing the back of your hand, too — the back of your palm, and over your knuckles. His hold on you is never tight, like you could choose to free your hand from his whenever you wish, as if even something as simple as this is a choice he'll always give you.

KAMUI

➸ It's not much of a surprise to hear that KAMUI is incredibly casual with his affection. Most days he'll try to casually, not-so-sneakily wrap his arm around your shoulders, or lift you off your feet as he hugs you. Much like a sunflower turning to face the sun, he claims his day immediately brightens whenever he gets to rest his head on your shoulder.

➸ He just loves being able to hold you in some way, with the kind of eagerness of someone trying something new for the first time, every single time — he'll grab your wrist as you walk together, eager to tell you about his latest mission in the Strike Hawk lounge, or he'll see you reaching for something on a high shelf and accidentally cover your hand with his own as he passes it over to you.

➸ Kamui likes gently squeezing your hand every so often when he holds it, paired with one of those almost-signature big smiles of his. He doesn't seem like the type to do hand kisses all too much — he much prefers kissing your face; isn't that much more straightforward? — but if he ever gets the chance to, he enjoys peppering your palms in kisses, all over any calluses, or scars, or other marks that litter your skin.

WATANABE

➸ WATANABE is uncomfortably unfamiliar with the kind of affection that you show him — not in the way that disgusts or unnerves him, of course, but in the way that he wonders why you chose him, of all people. Wouldn't you rather have someone who could better reciprocate your advances, instead of someone who only knew how to hold a blade? He's more than grateful for you, though, even if his hands might feel like sandpaper against yours, callused from years of combat.

➸ Rather than being shy about it, he likes to think he's reserved instead. His physical affection is subtle but tender, if a little rough around the edges. He's fond of brushing the back of his hand against yours, and he likes feeling the steady thumping of your pulse as he holds onto your wrist. He has a habit of kissing your wrists when he holds onto them, too, right at the junction where your palm meets your forearm.

➸ The way he holds onto you is gentle but firm, as if he's scared of hurting you — but in moments where it's just the two of you, Watanabe has a tendency to hold your hands... Not casually, per se, but more freely than he allows himself when you two are in the presence of others. He might put his hands over yours to show you the proper way to hold one of his knives or to stop you from working too late, or put his hand on the small of your back to steady you before you fall over. Each time he passes it off with one of these formulaic excuses, but each time he feels the warmth of your hands, your arm against him, he swears his heat circulation system malfunctions for just a second.

[sailtomarina]

The Artist's Daughter

She was here again.

Draco Lucius Malfoy, First and Only Prince to the kingdom, stayed hidden in the stacks next to a row of tomes dictating the genealogies of the royal families dating back hundreds of years. He had his private tutor to thank for the tiresome task of locating the volume listing the exact ancestor Draco had failed to name correctly in his latest exam. The other day, he’d been here searching for a text that would answer which crops their kingdom specialized in for exports. Ridiculous, really. As if he wouldn’t some day have advisors to do all this research for him.

Then, just like today, he’d seen a girl wandering through the shelves. She hadn’t noticed him, of course. Draco was far too sneaky to be detected by some muggle, which she had to be given her unaware musings as she walked around with her nose buried in a book.

The first time, he’d remained hidden, even going so far as to cast a disillusionment spell on himself. As surprised as he was to see a stranger, he supposed that if they were to wander any of the handful of libraries in the castle, this was the most appropriate one. It was situated on the ground floor not too far from the entrance and ballroom. This is where most of the muggle texts were organized, along with an unfortunate number of historical texts currently pertinent to Draco’s education.

She’d struck him as pretty, albeit in a muggle sort of way. She’d worn a simple lady’s gown in a pale yellow that contrasted with the rich dark curls tumbling down her back. Freckles sprinkled generously across her pale skin, markings his cousins would have glamoured over from birth. If he guessed correctly, they weren’t too far apart in age, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. That was another indicator of her humble breeding—he didn’t recognize her, not from school or from the countless balls and feasts he’d attended growing up. She couldn’t be a noble.

Today, she wore a dress in a lovely sage green with tiny white flowers embroidered along the scoop neckline. Draco imagined her eyes to match the green, or to perhaps blink at him in a hazel hue. He needed to know.

“Who are you?” His voice came out much harsher than intended. 

He’d stepped out in front of her just as she was about to pass, causing her to come to an abrupt stop before crashing into him. Startled eyes, irises dark brown and glinting with a hint of gold, gazed up at him. He’d been wrong about the colors.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there. I’m Hermione Granger. And you are?” She stepped back to an appropriate distance from him, hugging a few books to her chest like armor.

“I’m Draco,” he said simply.

“The prince?” She didn’t sound too surprised, and eyed his unmistakable platinum hair.

“The very same. Why are you here in the library?” He’d finally tempered his tone to a more congenial one. 

“I was told I could read whatever I liked in here. My father is painting your Grand Ballroom.”

Ah. She was the daughter of the painter.

His mother made it a point to elect a new project as soon as the previous one was complete. Previous years had resulted in a reworked Imperial Garden, which boasted rose gardens with every imaginable variety, both magical and non-magical. A formidable greenhouse was added shortly after, and the caretaker they’d employed soon obtained and cultivated the rarest of specimens for use in medicine and potions. 

This year, Queen Narcissa turned her attention to the Grand Ballroom. She and his father adored hosting balls at every opportunity. What better way to display their love for art and beauty than to paint the entire ceiling and all its walls with depictions of magical beasts and figures from history. Circe. Merlin. Rasputin. Titania and Oberon.

Draco had assumed they’d hire a wizard, but he should have known that when it came to art, the king and queen saw no difference between magic or not. They simply wanted the best, and if that happened to be stationary art, then so be it.

“Find anything interesting?” He feigned interest, intent on keeping her talking. She was far more entertaining than pouring over volumes of ancestors alone.

She perked up at his question, and Draco could have sworn sections of her hair floated for just a brief moment.

Certainly not.

“I did! Did you know your castle is situated on top of the most powerful spot in the kingdom? All of the most prominent ley lines converge here underneath our feet!” She stomped one foot in emphasis. He wouldn’t be surprised if she went through several slippers a season if she always beat on them in that manner.

Wait.

Did she say “ley lines”?

“Are you a witch?” he blurted out, once again wincing at the gracelessness of his question. His mother would be mortified if she could hear him.

Hermione looked at him as if he was stupid. “Yes. Why else would your family let me wander around here by myself?”

“I don’t know, maybe because this is the one library of many where muggles are allowed? They do come here occasionally, muggle nobles, to garner favor with us,” he sputtered. He still couldn’t quite believe it. She was a witch. She was an unknown witch of his age. “Why don’t I know you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“My parents are muggles. I might have a squib ancestor somewhere, but as far as we know, I’m the only magic user in the Granger family. They sent me abroad for schooling since Hogwarts doesn’t currently accept muggle-borns.” She raised her eyebrows as if challenging him, but Draco couldn’t find it within himself to care about her background.

Hermione didn’t fawn on him like the other girls who had paraded themselves around him at school. She didn’t bat her eyelashes or titter behind a gloved hand. She didn’t wear gloves at all, her slender fingers wrapping around ancient texts as if relishing the touch of the worn covers. She probably thumbed the pages like his instructors told him never to do.

He would have thought that would annoy him, but he instead found himself intrigued in this muggle-born witch who liked reading, wore slippers instead of heels, and forewent glamours.

“Do you want to see the other libraries?”

His words were like a spell, as effective at getting her to brighten as a cheering draught.

“Oh, can I? The king and queen won’t mind?” She nearly vibrated in her excitement.

Her hair was definitely twice the size it was before.

“Not if you’re with me,” Draco said with a smirk, though that was partially a lie. If they’d wanted her in the other libraries, they would have explicitly told her. 

“Well, in that case, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” She made to dash away, but he caught her shoulder before she could do so.

“Allow me,” he said with a gesture towards the books still clutched to her chest.

“Oh, I can carry these.”

“Please, I insist.” It wouldn’t do if either of his parents not only caught him skiving off lessons with the girl, but allowing her to carry around books like some commoner. When she finally let go of her findings, he cast a featherweight charm and looked at her knowingly. She flushed an adorable shade of pink.

“They really weren’t very heavy, but thank you anyways.”

They spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring, only making it to two additional libraries. Hermione had only added to the pile of books floating behind Draco. He had to refresh the charm multiple times due to the sheer weight.

“You do realize you can’t remove these from the castle, don’t you?” He hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see her, that she’d continue to visit along with her father for as long as there was work. “How long will it take your father to finish the ballroom?”

“To answer your first question, yes, I do understand that I’ll need to reserve these books to read later. I was hoping you could help with that.” He nodded his agreement, even as he inwardly danced with joy at the thought that he now had a reason to continue seeing the girl. “And to answer your second, it could take my father years.”

“Years?” Draco was aghast at the approximation.

“Years,” she repeated. “If you go take a look, you’ll see why. He’s not even working alone—he has an entire team helping with the moldings and scenery.”

Trust his mother to pick a project of such staggering proportions that it required multiple artists. On the bright side, that meant he’d have a long time to get to know Hermione, even if it was only during the holidays.

“It’s a shame you can’t attend Hogwarts.” It wasn’t until she tutted in agreement that he realized he’d said the words aloud. If she’d been like any other girl, she would have pounced on any hint of attachment on his part. She, however, did not.

“Well, if the king’s word is true, then I may soon. In exchange for my father’s work, yours agreed to update Hogwarts’ policies. I love Beauxbatons, but I can’t disagree that staying closer to home would make everything a lot easier on my family.”

“If you do,” Draco said the words slowly, hardly believing they were coming out of his mouth but needing her to know before it was too late, “then you should ask to be sorted into Slytherin.”

His heart sank at the way her nose wrinkled and lips turned downward in a grimace. “Isn’t that house renowned for pureblood ideology? I was leaning more towards Ravenclaw, myself.”

He nodded somewhat agreeably. “Books and cleverness…you could certainly do worse. They’re not a bad lot, if you ignore their tendency to disappear into their studies. Though…” he trailed off, reluctant to give away his feelings again without assistance.

“Though it might mean we don’t see each other? I wouldn’t let that happen outside of exams,” she said offhandedly. “I’ll keep in mind what you said. Snakes can be quite clever, in a sneaky kind of way.” The pointed look she sent Draco reminded him of how he’d approached her in the first place.

“Quite.”

A gentle melody played in the air, noting the top of the hour and finishing with eight long chimes.

“And that’s my cue. Hold on to those for me, would you?” Hermione leaned up onto her toes, laid the palms of her hands atop his shoulders, and pressed a kiss onto one cheek, then the other.

Draco could do nothing but stand still in shock at her forwardness. Then he remembered where she went to school and the strange habits the people of that land practiced. He cleared his throat to cover his awkward silence, but the crooked smirk she wore proved the attempt useless.

“When will I see you next?” He realized how needy that sounded as it came out, and hastily continued,“Just so I know when to have them ready?”

She flitted to the doors and didn’t respond until she was nearly through them, “I’m sure you’ll find me!”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving behind her stack of books, the echoes of her soft lips on his face, and the sweet scent of apple blossoms in the air. Draco wondered if she had perhaps cast some sort of love spell on him. How else could he explain his complete lack of reservation around her, or why her humble origins didn’t matter to him like he thought they should?

Queen Narcissa found him still in contemplation shortly after, and was impressed at the amount of reading material gathered around him.

“My dragon, there you are! Wilfred said he’d sent you to recover texts on our family history ages ago.”

“Mother, did you know the painter has a daughter?”

Narcissa blinked as she processed the odd question. “Master Granger? Of course. Hermione is a lovely, bright little thing. I told her she could read whatever she liked in our First Library. Why do you ask?”

Her son continued to stare at the wall, and she had half a mind to cast a homenum revelio.

“Draco?”

He came to with a shake and gave her one of his rare, full smiles. “No reason. I think we’ll be wonderful friends. You should make sure Hogwarts changes their acceptance rules before school starts again.”

Bewildered and bemused, she stroked a hand over his hair, so like his father’s. “I take it the two of you met?”

“We did. These are all hers.” He gestured towards the books once more.

“And here I thought you’d finally taken an interest in your studies.”

He snorted and she nearly pinched him on the arm for his cheek. She made do instead with a tickle to his side. He ducked away from her with a laugh, holding up his hands in surrender. “Mother, please! That isn’t fair! You know all my weak spots.”

She desisted in her attack with another indulgent smile. “And don’t you forget it. Just be careful with Hermione, dear.”

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head in confusion and she nearly sighed at his naivety. The young could be so oblivious, but she envied them their freedom.

She thought back on her own upbringing. The Blacks were more ancient and arrogant than even the royal family; her marriage to Lucius had been agreed upon at birth and as expected as the fact that clouds brought rain and Blacks were as pure as pure could be. She knew she was his from the beginning, and no amount of pining after others or imagining life in another place with a different name would change her fate.

Narcissa looked at her son, a near perfect replica of her husband aside from the softer grey eyes she’d bestowed upon him and his smile. He’d been so much like her at the start, but over the years he’d become more and more like his father. Now, today, he was like his younger self again.

She didn’t care what Lucius intended for his heir. She just wanted him to find happiness.

“True friends are difficult to come by, particularly for people of our station. I have a feeling that, if you nurture your relationship with Hermione, she’ll be someone worth keeping at your side.”

“What would father say?” he asked, caution and desire battling for domination on his face.

“He prizes power above all else.” This much was true. Lucius just happened to have a bit of a blind spot outside of magical families. “Apply yourself to your studies, help one another, and I’ll take care of Hogwarts and your father.”

Listening to his mother, Draco started to relax and let a bit of his earlier hope trickle back in. He wasn’t sure how Hermione had secured her approval, but she had. Greater deeds had been turned into ballads.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit terrifying sometimes?”

Narcissa smirked, immediately reminding Draco of wild curls and a smattering of freckles. The two women looked wildly different, yet they gave off a similar air of confident capability.

“I have been told. Once or twice.”

He made a note to tread carefully around Hermione in the future. If she turned out anything like his mother, he never wanted to be on the opposite end of her ire.

Oh, the feats they would accomplish together.

WC 2606

DHRMonth Prompt: Week 4 - Alternate Universe, September 22 - Royal AU

Cross-posted to AO3

I have half a mind to write a full story in this setting, since it spiraled into something I want to know more about. I didn’t think I used to have a thing for royal AUs, but maybe I do???

[spnbabe67]

The Simple Act of Breaking Hearts

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem Original Character

Warnings: This is pure angst (fucking made me cry writing this), Hurt/No Comfort, Slapping, Cursing, Dean is a belligerent drunk, implications of cheating, implications of child death (nothing graphic)

Summary: After a hunt involving multiple casualties, Dean goes missing. When Tori finds him, words are exchanged and ties are cut. When Dean comes to the following morning, he is forced to face his actions.

Word Count: 1694

Authors Notes: This was inspired by the songs Last Night by Morgan Wallen and Something In the Orange by Zach Bryan

Let me know if y'all want a part two

It had been a hard hunt. None of them had realized that the nest of vamps was working with a demon, and by the time they figured it out, 3 small children were dead and two more, Tori and Sam had sent to the hospital in critical condition. Like always, Dean had taken their deaths the hardest, not to mention Tori herself had a nasty black eye and a gash slicing across her bicep. Despite her protests that she was fine, Dean still insisted on doing the stitches himself. After he'd completed the last stitch, Dean had fled her room. That was two hours ago, and Tori hadn't seen him since. Well, that was until she found him in some rundown tavern just outside Lebanon city limits.

The first thing Tori noticed as she set foot into the bar was the blasting music, followed by the stench of body odor mingling with cheap alcohol. It was nearly enough to make her vomit, and definitely, enough to trigger an ache at the base of her skull from all her senses being assaulted at once. Tori swallowed hard and made her way, weaving through the throng of bodies. It wasn't hard to find Dean, she'd know him anywhere. The hunter she'd lived with, whose clothes she mixed in with hers, the hunter who'd just a week ago shared her bed.  But what she wasn't expecting, was the scantily clad blonde practically curled up in his lap, the two sequestered away in a booth near the back. Tori felt ice flood her veins, making her shiver despite the overwhelming heat in the bar. She licked her lips, huffing an irritated sigh as she walked up to the table.

"Mind if I join you." Tori bit out, ire practically leaking from her body.

If Dean was surprised to see her, then he didn't show it as he spoke. "Actually, I think we do." 

The girl on his lap looked up at Tori with a heavy-lidded gaze from where she had been nuzzling at Deans neck. It took years of masking and self control to keep the rage bubbling up in check and not drag the woman by her bottle blonde hair and throw her to the ground.

"Well to fucking bad, Dean." Tori pulled her eyes away from where the girl was sucking another dark mark against Dean's tanned skin, adding to the myriad of them already littering his skin. "Tell your," Tori ran her tongue over her teeth, "Friend, to go get us another round of drinks."

Tori, pulled a few bills from her pocket, slamming them hard enough onto the table to rattle the empty tumblers and cast a few glances their way. One sharp look from Tori had the onlookers quickly returning to their conversations. The blonde looked at Dean and he leaned in whispering in her ear, nipping at the skin below it before pulling away. The woman crawled over Dean to snatch the bills from the table, sauntering up to the bar.

"What are you doing here, Tori." Dean slurred, knocking back what was left of his drink before slinging an arm over the back of the booth. 

"I'm bringing you home, Dean. We were fucking worried." Tori started, curling her hands into fists to keep the tears that threatened to well up at bay. "Sam was worried. I was worried."

"Yeah, well, I'm fine." Dean snapped back, words sharp as a blade. "You can go tattle to Sam and tell him I'm fine. Peachy even."

"Dean. I love you, and I will not let you drink yourself to death."

Dean chuckled darkly, the sound roiling some uneasy part in Tori's stomach. "Yeah, well the feelin' ain't mutual sweetheart."

And like that, the bottom of Tori's heart fell straight into her stomach. She took a shuddering breath, shaking her head. "You don't mean that."

"I do." Dean shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "What're you  gonna do about it? Cry?"

Tori blinked, eyes blurry with tears. How could he be so fucking cruel? It was sheer will now keeping her from breaking down completely, and even that was beginning to slowly crumble.

"Fuck you, Winchester." Tori spat, clenching her fists so hard she barely registered the blood trickling from where her nails had bit through the flesh of her palms. "You're drunk."

Dean got up from the table, legs unsteady enough for him to place a hand on the table to prevent himself from falling. Tori reached out, but he slapped her hand away. He took a step forward, their chests millimeters from touching. She could smell the alcohol on his breath invading her nose and into her lungs to the point Tori wondered if she could get drunk if she breathed deep enough. 

"And you're a nothing but a fucking slut. But you know what?" Dean gripped her chin, making her gaze shift from where she had been staring a hole into his chest to meet his. "In the morning I'll be sober, and you'll still be a pathetic whore who sucks the life out of people."

Tori's hand made contact with Dean's face before she had time to think. Her eyes were drawn to the lines of red dripping down his face from where the impact of her nails had sliced into his face, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I wish I'd never met you." Tori snarled, ripping Dean's hand from her face before he spun on her heel and disappeared back into the wave of patrons with no look back.

The first thing Dean registered when he woke up the next morning, was the pounding in his head. It was a herculean task for him to crack his eyes open. All he could remember was leaving the bunker, images of the dead on a reel in his mind, driving to a bar. Flashes kept coming in and out, drinking at a bar, Tori being there, but most too fast for him to comprehend. At least not while he was this hung over. Dean rubbed a fist against his eyes before blinking them open. It was much to his confusion when he was met with the sight of a naked woman sharing his bed. A naked woman that was very much not Tori, and in a bed that was very much not his room at the bunker. A sinking feeling started to nag at the back of his mind. He sat up, not caring if he woke the blonde woman in the bed, surveying the dingy motel room. If the sun peeking through the cracks in the yellowed blinds had indication, there were several hours between the present and the last sober memory he could recall.

Dean slipped out of the bed, frowning at his own nakedness before slipping himself back into the jeans that were discarded on the floor. He closed the bathroom door behind him before walking to the sink. He cursed under his breath as he beheld the blue and black mottling the left side of his face along with the two or three small cuts on his cheekbone. He ran the water in the sink cold before splashing it onto his face. The icy water was enough to send a shock through his system and the dam broke. Everything came flooding back like the water tumbling from the tap. Getting rip roaring drunk, making out with the blonde in the bathroom, Tori showing up, his downright vile words, her slapping him before disappearing as quickly as she came, tumbling through the motel room with the woman in the bed. 

"Fuck." Dean whispered, before turning the water off and stumbling back into the room, hastily pulling his shirt on. He didn't take the time to tie his boots before running out of the motel room.

Dean was sure he'd broken a significant number of driving laws getting back to the bunker, not bothering to lock Baby before making his way into the bunker. The silence he'd grown to love about he bunker was now eerie without the sound of Tori's laughter, the music she'd blare while doing practically anything. His heart sunk as he approached his room, the door left cracked open. He slowly pushed it the rest of the way. Just days before he'd helped Tori move her stuff into his room. But now, every trace of her was gone. The bed was made, with every piece of clothing she had borrowed from him folded neatly on her side. A quick check in the dresser revealed that her clothes, along with the ones in the closet, were gone.

Dean's eyes slid to the desk, where Tori's sketchbook and pencils had taken up residence. Those were gone too. And in their stead, was a single folded piece of notebook paper addressed to him and a set of key. One was a copy of the key to the Bunker he had made for Tori when she officially moved into the bunker years ago, and the other was the key to the car she'd fixed up in her time here, the car Dean had given to her for her birthday last year. Dean took the note with a gentleness you'd think he held a bomb, not a piece of paper. He slumped down onto his bed, and with a shaky breath and equally shaky hands, opened it and began reading the note written in Tori's familiar, elegant scrawl.

Dean,

By the time you read this, I'll be long gone. Don't bother asking Sam where I went, he got his own note, but nothing regarding my whereabouts. The keys to the bunker and to the car are on your desk. I took nothing I didn't come here with, or bought on my own. 

I'm not sure if I'm to thank you or curse you for the memories over the years. Those aren't so easily washed away as it was to wash the clothes I stole from you. I owe you no debts, and you owe me nothing in return. I wish you no ill will, only the best, which is what you deserve

Don't bother coming to look for me. I've disappeared once, I know how to do it again. 

Love,

Tori

[syntia13treeman]

Case files 06.01

We've got a new monster! I repeat, we've got a new monster! Also this call was made just 3 days before Sam heard it! The monster is roaming the streets as we speak!

Ahem. Let us begin.

What I think happened in:

Case 06.01, the case of "Prickly Hugger – a cautionary tale for muggers" or

"I'm scary and pointy!"

We've gathered here today to talk about Mr. Needles.

Who is Mr. Needles? Mr. Needles is a local. He grew up here (somewhere in London), and he'd seen the neighbourhood go from 'nice' to 'dreadful' over the years. (He had a hand in that, though he won't say how). He used to feel lonely and hollow, but has found something to remedy that. Some kind of mark. Don't worry about it.

Mr. Needles does not look dangerous. On the contrary, he seems like an easy mark, a perfect victim (a perfect lure). This particular night, some knife-wielding ruffian fell for it and tried to mug him. Mr. Needles let the mugger get very close, before deploying needles (they come out from under his skin from thousands of tiny holes). (…does it hurt? Every time. Mr. Needles doesn't mind. He's experimented with BDSM before).

He happily glomped the mugger and made sure to position himself over muggers face (and his eyes). The needles broke off after digging into the mugger's flesh. (It's OK. They grow back).

When the mugger was already on the ground, moaning and bleeding, Mr. Needles decided to call emergency service. This was not his first hmugger, but his first emergency call - he's not very clear on how exactly they work, but he does know where the local contact centres are located.

After a little bit of back-and-forth with the dying mugger and the various operators, Mr. Needles ended the call without actually stating their location, so it will probably be some time before somebody stumbles upon a body full of needles, lying in a pool of blood.

Somewhere in Lambeth, a police operator is feeling rather unsettled and will be looking over his shoulder on his way home for at least few days. (And maybe he'll meet an unassuming little man fond of hugging).

Other important things to know about Mr. Needles: Mr. Needles is a very scary monster.

He can smell fear. He can smell fear even over the phone (which probably means it's not actually scent he's perceiving, but that's just a technical detail).

If his scare-factor is challenged, Mr. Needles becomes agitated and rattles his needles like an angry metal rattlesnake. It is not advisable to question his scariness. He WILL take offence and threaten to stalk you.

What we don't know about Mr. Needles:

Sewing needles or syringe needles? I've seen fanart depicting classic hand-sewing needles, but I don't think that works for the simple reason that the mugger is said to be bleeding to death rather quickly, while the needles are still in him. Every stab-wound PSA reminds us to leave the 'weapon' in, because it slows the bleeding. So I posit that Needle's needles are hollow, promoting fast blood-loss. He even says "This isn’t some poxy blood test," when arguing his scariness, which I think supports this.

What is Mr. Needles? A monster-ified human, or a human-shaped monster? He says he grew up here – does it mean: - he was just regular boring human before he grew prickly (how did it happen?), - or was he once just a tiny itty bitty prickle of unease in the back of somebody's brain, before feeding on collective fear of the locals, and growing big and fearsome, until he could manifest as a fully fledged, physical monster (what prompted it?). - Or was he once a tiny baby monster, toddling underfoot and biting ankles? (kidding ;) Smart money is on the first option, but I rather like the idea of the second. We'll have to wait and see, I guess.

How old is he? He seems to be rather new to the whole 'being a monster' thing, so whatever he was in his youth, I think he became Mr. Needles fairly recently. Like maybe...hm, about a year ago? When some other things started happening for no apparent reason?

Are muggers his usual prey? I doubt it. The line "once they realize their mistake" could mean "they thought I'd be easy mark – oops, surprise!", but it could just as easily apply to "this good Samaritan though I needed help," or "this random passer-by thought I was harmless and not danger to them". He also says he's proud of making the streets unsafe at night, so I think he is a predator that just also happens to eat other predators. Top of the foodchain kind of deal (or at least he likes to think of himself as such).

What is his name? The transcript says 'Needles' and I'm calling him this for now, but I don't believe it's what he calls himself. I bet when we meet him and he introduces himself, it will be with an overly long, pretentious edgy name, sth like Dr. Sharp, the Terror that Stabs in the Night, or similar.

What does he mean by "the land is marked now, same as me"? What happened to the land? Too much man-made destruction (physical mark)? Too many man-made tragedies (metaphysical mark)? An apocalypse seeping in from a nearby universe (eldrich mark)? Something else? All of them at once? What? *gnawing at my keyboard over a tiny inconspicuous remark*

[pleaseitsjustrae0nly]

if you know about the permanent anacondrai Kai au can you please do a Kai X reader where the reader comfort Kai about what happened at the tournament of elements like the reader says that Kai was brave to take on the mark of the anacondrai to trick Chen and the reader and Kai end up cuddling at the end with the reader saying that they love him no matter what he is (this is both comfort and fluff and the only people in this are the reader and Kai the others are just mentioned and the reader was not at the tournament of elements nya was the one that told the reader about what happened Kai was in his room when the reader come to convert him)

I never knew about the permanent anacondrai au! So the research might kill me, but here you go!

Btw you didn't mention what reader you wanted so I made it gender neutral, hope that's okay!

How can you love a beast like me?

A Kai x gn!reader, uses they/them. Just pure comfort and fluff!

It had been a week since the incident at Chen's Island. The anacondrai's had been banished, and everything was fine. But one thing wasn't, and that was Kai. He had taken the responsibility in tricking Chen and saving his friends, he bore the mark of the anacondrai in order to earn his trust. But now, he was permanently stuck as an anacondrai snake.

He hasn't talked to you since the incident, which worried you. Kai Smith, the man or rather snake whom you loved wasn't responding to your calls or messages. Nya had informed you of what happened and you were surprised at how brave Kai was, but he wasn't brave enough to face you...

You gave him another week, but still nothing. Your messages were being left on seen and the calls would lead to voicemail immediately. You wanted to give him all the time in the world but he hasn't said anything! No update on how he's doing, if he's sick, or if he just needs more time.

Hell, even his friends didn't know how he was doing, apparently he went off somewhere. The only person who knew where he was, was Zane. But he promised to not say anything on behalf of his now snake friend.

But it's been bothering you, you wondered if you could get it out of the nindroid's mouth in order to find your beloved boyfriend. It took a lot, a whole week. he finally caved, and gave you the coordinates. He asked you not to tell him, for he wanted to apologize to Kai himself.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・✿.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

"Kai! It's me!" You said, ringing the doorbell. You could hear some shuffling, but it stopped at the door. "I... know you probably still won't talk to me, but we've been worried sick! No one has heard from you in weeks..."

Silence was present, "Nya's starting to think she's a bad sister, but she understands you want to be alone." you pressed you forehead and hand against the wooden door. "We just want an update on how your doing, nothing too extravagant, just a simple, small sentence."

You could hear a small sniffle behind the door, "Just know, we all love you. No matter what you are, you will always be Kai Smith, the older brother to Nya Smith, the master of fire, and my the love of my life." you started tearing up, you then lifted your head and started walking back to your vehicle. But before you could open your door, you heard a small weak 'wait...'

"Don't go... not yet." he was looking at the ground, and this was the first time you saw him in his snake form. His hair was the same, but his skin was adorned with purple scales... "I... well, I-" he stuttered, he didn't know what to tell you.

"Can I come inside?" you ask, giving him a small smile, "...sure." he moved out of the door way and deeper into the home. The silence was loud, but once you sat next to him on the couch that had layers of blankets and pillows on it, he began to cry on you. You hugged him, patting his hair and rubbing his back. "It's okay Kai... let it all out."

"How do you still love me? *sniff* how can you?" he muffled through your shoulder. "Kai... you're still the same man I fell in love with all those years ago. And I told you already...

No matter what you are, you will always be Kai Smith."

"But... I'm a beast! A monster... people look at me in horror... How could you still love me, I'm a beast."

"Then you will be my beast."

the day ended in you both cuddling, you giving him all the love and care that he needed all those weeks of being alone. You kissed him, comforted him, and reassured him that no matter what, he his Kai Smith, the master of fire, a brother, and your boyfriend.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s1e5 bloody mary (teleplay: ron milbauer, terri hughes burton; story: eric kripke)

(this is a rewatch, so spoilers abound)

today's update from the first watch - in fact maybe playing bloody mary as a very sensitive and nervous kid still gives me particular nightmares 30+ years later!

i like that they actually show us sam's nightmare about jess and it's conveniently just the pilot fire footage but blue. but it's effective! and the way they use a clip of his other nightmare where he's visiting her grave (before we get the cheap jumpscare of arms grabbing him from the ground), i always forget that that's all from a nightmare. dunno if it's supposed to also be like, representation of him actually going to her funeral (they did stay a week, i think they mentioned)

SAM I take it I was having a nightmare. DEAN Yeah, another one. SAM Hey, at least I got some sleep. DEAN You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.

and they say dean doesn't want to talk about things!

listen, you know i like first season lighting. but this lighting in an office of the morgue is out of pocket lol the eye strain!!

DEAN Dude, I earned that money. SAM You won it in a poker game.

still counts!

s1e5 chelan simmons as jill / hannibal s1e2 as gretchen speck / her little flouncy skirt for some reason is what i remember most

i thought she looked familiar but then i think that about a lot of pretty blonde haired young women in the early seasons of this show.. but she actually is! in my favorite hannibal rando murderer episodes, mushroom maannn (god the music while getting this hannibal screenshot, yeah it's wacky being so discordant and all but it's also SO GOOD at setting the tone and it's just so unique and special 🥺 link to my hannibal music masterpost)

someone got to have a lot of fun getting creative with all these hallway mirrors (peter ellis directed - he did this and 1x15 the benders and that's it)

smooth, dean-o. very normal response. got the doubletake jaw clench combo from sam lol (gifs i reblogged with pretty much the same comments, i am nothing if not consistent)

dramatic skylight on sam what is happening at this library

such a simple horror trope but so freaky every time

oh, sam.

SAM Why'd you let me fall asleep? DEAN Cause I'm an awesome brother. So what did you dream about? SAM Lollipops and candy canes. DEAN Yeah, sure.

very distinct visual style going here. it's just like, so blurry in the background of sam's shot and he's kind of soft focus himself.. feels like someone was having a moment with padalecki this episode instead of jackles hogging all the beauty shots :p and looking at her face i'm just appreciating how smooth the matte makeup looks under her eyes and is holding up to crying (which partially is just having young skin but also kudos to the makeup artist)

funny seeing the different supernatural-hunting techniques and gear that never went anywhere beyond this season

oh man, that feels like a lifetime ago. weird days of celebrity via leaked sex tape

casually printing out photos in their motel room. do they keep a printer with them in the trunk too? 😂

some of the score has got a very mark snow xfiles vibe, thanks to christopher lennertz (video down further because i ~needed~ to get the car chat too)

also trying to ignore the not-great green screen driving moments. i know they sort that out sooner rather than later. i think mainly by driving at night with their very cool practical effects lighting setup that simulates passing street lights/other cars etc - this interview with the director of photography serge ladouceur has all sorts of really interesting information and there's a video included about how they did the night driving effects.

So how did shooting in the car evolve? Clearly some of it was on the road, some of it is Poor Man’s Process in the studio, and a small portion of it is greenscreen.  We didn’t do much greenscreen with the Impala. The scenes we did that way were in Season 1 — sending a crew to film plate shots and compositing in post. We went through that process for some episodes, but because of the visual effects costs with outside vendors, the production went another way. Since Season 2, we have had a full-on visual effects department that’s part of the production, so every visual effect is done in-house. It was very convenient to have the visual effect department right here by our stages, so if last-minute questions arose, our VFX supervisor, Mark Meloche, is close by to answer these questions and guide us into the process, on top of having a VFX department representative on set for the days we deal with those shots. Mark was a great asset on Supernatural, having been on the show for its whole duration. He started with the team as the lead artist and then became the VFX supervisor in Season 8, after the departure of Ivan Hayden. 

oh i forgot about this part... i posted about this actually back when i watched it.

CHARLIE I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said "Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself." And you know what I said? I said "Go ahead." And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just…I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.

so this one hit really close to home for me, from my linked post above:

i was watching the bloody mary episode of supernatural, and yadda yadda people have secrets and someone is dead. and then we get to the final woman and her secret is her boyfriend killed himself after they had a fight. i was just internally screaming at sam and dean, and this is the part where you tell her it wasn't her fault ...!!!! because that's also one of the things i'm carrying around too, that i still need reminding that it wasn't my fault. had a fight, i knew he was suicidal, but i thought he was just mad. i was mad too, for the first time with him. i could have called, i could have asked for a wellness check, i could have could have could have... anyway. it's not our fault. i appreciated they told her that, finally, at the end. it's been 15 years now since it happened but it is still heavy on my heart.

the sam parallel finally coming to a head with his guilt about jess, so they get to have their talk. and a little crispy R for posterity's sake on "secret" from padalecki. i think i've narrowed it down to really soft barely there Rs on the ends of words, and very articulated Rs in the middle of words?

xfiles-y score / it's not your fault

DEAN You know what, that's it. This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night—it's gonna kill you. Now listen to me—It wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place. SAM I don't blame you. DEAN Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done.

we know especially later that even if he warned her, there was no way it would have helped. the wheels in motion were so far beyond their control. literal forces of hell and heaven working against them.

MIRROR!SAM You never told her the truth—who you really were. {SAM is now falling towards the ground.} But it's more than that, isn't it? Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning—You had them for days before she died. Didn't you!?! You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die!?! You dreamt it would happen!!!

and these would be my 5th and 6th screenshots of my original viewing. also long slated to paint at some point

DEAN Sammy. Sammy! SAM It's Sam.

forever grateful that dean is stubborn and continues to call him sammy. love a nickname, especially when dean's the only one allowed to call him that

dean getting the ultra blurred out soft focus treatment now, with a side of extra saturation

SAM Charlie? Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen. DEAN That's good advice.

good but hard to internalize all the same

DEAN Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is. SAM Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself.

not quite sure why sam's smiling about this. not to mention how his visions become extremely plot relevant in the future. would think that would be more angsty, not lighthearted

s1e5 / true detective s1e1

i don't know if this is the first time the show made me cry? but the shot of jess on the sidewalk really got me this time around. also reminds me of a shot in true detective s1 that i used in my hannibal / true detective edit.

i've thought about doing some comparative gifs but i do think it's also kind of a common trope. but not like that means it's not worth doing! just selection of the trope from shows i have Feelings about

the song was replaced yet again on netflix, this scene originally had laugh, i nearly died by the rolling stones and they used bones into dust by fred haring instead and it was a good enough sub that it hit me in the feelings, rarity. i don't know what part of the rolling stones song they used but i might actually prefer the vibe a little bit of the substitute?? it's more straight bittersweet melancholy

via the wiki

Dean began to bleed from his eyes when confronted by Mary Worthington, denoting he had a dark secret which creator Eric Kripke claimed would be addressed at a later date. However, the plotline would quickly be dropped and never mentioned again.

lol

so much for these not all being excessively long posts 🤪

[lukerycyja-reblogs]

Isn't it lovely

I just made that, it's angsty.

I refuse to think that there were no humans after the war who wouldn't help omnics at all, like Cmon.

Anyways, have this.

TW: description of violence, wounds, main character death.

@ya-zz I tried but I have no idea how to write him, help ;-;

He remembered everything clearly since he awoke that faithful day. Since he gained sentience, each and every second was carefully catalogued and saved within his memory banks.

He was with other ravagers like him, traveling in a group, huddled together. After war ended, many of his brothers and sisters that were made for war were lost, wandering around like blind children. They were made for war, not to live. Many took their lives just as many were destroyed by humans. He understood them then to some extent. Yet he couldn't help, but feel fear and doubt.

He wanted to live. Just not this life that he was given, not in this body. He was ashamed. Unworthy of anything but pain.

Group of humans attacked him and his companions then. They didn't protect themselves in any way, just trying to leave. Ravagers were already marked as monsters, and none of them were willing to accept that title. So they took insults instead. After a few weeks, only few were left. Another human group approached them to destroy them as they were pitifully huddling together, trying to not appear threatening, covered in rags to mask their faces and builds.

And then, a lonely star on the night sky pierced through the thick clouds.

A human entered their view, standing between angry mob and their small group of omnics killing machines. She argued, that they didn't do anything. That they weren't dangerous, despite being an R-7000 model, that they were like newborns in the bodies of a soldier. Humans didn't seem to accept opinion of one of their own, and yet they hesitated. But his saviour did not flatter and stood her ground.

He remember looking at her, as her hair glowed in the sun, skin littered with scars and scabs looking silky smooth. As if she was an angel sent by the Iris itself. The promised Messiah that humans liked to talk so much about. She was... Lovely.

She helped him and four other ravagers, guiding them home and helping them fix their metal bodies. She gave them new clothes and treated them like normal people as they should have been treated.

There were many omnics living on her farm. They were willing to help that human for simple shelter and act like slaves again -she never forced them to help her-. But he understood them. He, at that time, was also willing to sacrifice everything for a place he could call home.

He spent there almost a year. Meny here were taught what it meant to be alive, to enjoy simple pleasures. Many learned how to knit and crochet to make their own clothes, or how to do usual human things. They took care of the garden, watching the flowers and bees, petting cats, learning about the miracle of life and about death and it's part in life. It was like a dream. Because of that, they started calling this place Eden. The garden of simple and sacred life.

He and others of his kind didn't leave the farm, since humans were still on edge with them. That didn't stop her however. She sat them down one day, all fifty seven of the omnics living there. She told them about their next safe place. The Shambali monastery, where omnics were allowed to live by themselves. She of course told them, that who wants can stay, but she advises them to consider moving away to a place, where all of them would be more safe. Away from hateful eyes and angry faces.

They didn't want to leave her, but her kind smile and happy eyes told them that it wouldn't be an end, but just the beginning. That they will stay in contact.

She payed for their plane, so all of them could leave and have a quick journey -so no one would hurt them if they travelled alone-. She was helping omnics from the whole country, eventually branching out outside of it. To help. Since they were worthy of living.

That's how he learned to appreciate humanity. That despite being scared, some of them were willing to help. That there were some brightly glowing stars out there.

He spent next year's of his life in the monastery, learning from master Mondatta. He also kept in touch with his first human friend, like the others did. At that time, he really thought that Omnics and humans could live together not now. Not in a long time.

He heard about organisations popping up that were helping omnics around the world. That humans were willing to live and help his kind -not for long-. However, for every good thing, hundred bad things happened. He saw how cruel humans truly are to his kind. And yet he held hope for them. After all, he met a human that told him that she doesn't care if he was made for war. She was still alive, doing whatever she could to help others like him. He visited her then, bitter after seeing his brothers and sisters needlessly slaughtered by an angry crowd. She helped, her words and actions bringing serenity to his soul. They started working together, to protect his kind. Always on the first lines, gathering those who didn't protect themselves and providing them with safe home. He still saw the glimmer of hope then.

Red. He saw this ugly shade of red, spilled across the concrete, creating beautifully horrifying art of suffering and broken dreams.

She was laying down, curled on top of sparkling omnic that was beaten, but still alive. He saw her once soft hair torn and stuck together, fee beautiful face disfigured and bloody. Cheeks growing pale and nails weakly scrapping the ground below, still alive yet not for long. He pushed through the crowd and held her, as if she would fall apart from his brutal touch.

She was broken, beyond saving. But she did that to protect his kind. He remembers her last moments too clearly.

"You look lovely Ram. I'm sorry I did stupid things again" she said between coughing and spitting blood.

He never felt anguish as much as he did in that moment.

"Help your brothers, okay? They need a strong older sibling like you" she smiled at him.

And then she was no more.

He returned to the monastery after that, spirit broken but, oh how brightly burning. He could not understand how humans could hurt their own, defenceless kind in the name of pride.

He didn't let the flames of anger cloud his judgement yet. He instead carefully remade it into unbreakable will. So he could continue to protect those who couldn't do it themselves.

Humans lives were lovely. But oh so cruel.

[frozen-fountain]

Find the Word... Love Edition!

Thank you to @mothboypoison for the tag :) In return I nominate @hrh-spinach, @ourspecial, @runicmagitek, @laboradorescence, @visualheresy, @keioschaos, @wandringaesthetic, @danceswithdarkspawn! And anyone else who wants to join in.

Words for me to find: hand, familiar, embrace, yearning, dear

Words for you to find: lips, holding, present, star, simple

Hand

- from Aperture Priority

The tram left them in the shadow of the command centre, under a roof patterned with leaping dolphins in the undulating hues of the sea. Last time he stood below that waveless surface Elmyra kissed his cheek and put him on the journey home, and just the touch of her hand melted the layer of rime that still clung to his skin after months making wind power in the far north. She had pictures to show him, too, of Corel in a new spring where the sun awakened the mountain fern and things were being built again – thanks in no little part to the expertise a certain master of materia shared with them the year before. He smiled as he took Marlene's hand again and led her through wide streets bereft of road markings where no cars roved, framed by cascades of flowering vines and merry market stalls. Elmyra's green fingertips had touched every part of the city, left a little Cetra magic down every dirty alley she walked at the start of it all, and some of those sparks still danced on his skin, too. The town was lit in amber the first evening, when she took his hand and marched him through the streets she helped to shape, back to her place without a second's hesitation. Not until her clothes came off and she covered her chest with her palms, like he was meant to be surprised she didn't have the body of a twenty-year-old beauty queen under there. He stepped closer and took her hands in his and she placed them on his arm, over the rough and cratered band where skin met metal.

Familiar

- from Dulosis

Elena blinked. The lines between the sky and the trees were still there. Connecting lines. Not separation boundaries. One could not be without the other. “My parents used to say people who did drugs only had themselves to blame when they ended up selling their bodies in the gutter.” Her mouth moved on its own, shaping familiar sounds with no weight behind them. Yuffie snorted. “Kinda hard when you freaks don't use money anymore. 'Sides, what a load of horseshit. Old Man Shinra did just fine, and there's no way he wasn't powdering his nose when no-one was looking. Hell, probably when they were, too. Who was gonna stop him?” A laugh bubbled up out of Elena's nose. “I believe Sephiroth had that honour.” Yuffie was silent, then responded with a quiet, “heh. Yeah. He did. And I'm the one who stopped Sephiroth.”

Embrace

- from Into the Night Uncharted

The lights stayed with him on the long flight across the ocean. And then rose Junon, a cracked and rotten tooth jutting out of the broken ground. He would be there for the days when the seeds his friends had planted came at last to full bloom and draped the concrete bulwark all in green, when butterflies flocked about the heights and the people sang in the streets. He'd be there when the last grain of the desert beyond the mountains blew away and left only trees and flowers to tell the tale. And he'd be there, still, when the ocean returned the city's verdant embrace at last and toppled the tall tower, taking it and leaving it somewhere else as time marched on and made new.

Yearning

- from Prints

The yowl crawled in from the empty hall, long-drawn and full of yearning. Reeve put his equations to the side and rubbed the blur from his eyes. Rolling his neck and straightening his back yielded a chain reaction of cracks and crunches, and he groaned. “I'm right here, pretty girl.” Another keening wail prompted a pause in the clatter behind him. “She wants attention where she is,” said the disembodied husky voice from the kitchen. “Probably.” The rise and the run and the long strings of numbers had stopped translating into a helpful vision of ramps and pulleys about half an hour ago, anyway. Junon's first high-rise farm, the project of a lifetime and culmination of five years of the city's healing, could wait. Reeve slid from the couch onto his knees, into a patch of late afternoon dappled light. He rapped with three knuckles on the floorboard. A chirrup, a scrabble of claws, and a small clear bell sang in time with Freya's soft trot along the corridor. She stopped in the doorway, then barrelled into his open arms, ringing with every bound. Reeve laughed as she nuzzled into his shoulder, pressed her lithe body against him until the gentle rumble of her purr reverberated in his own chest. “You're so big now,” he whispered, kissing silky fur and scratching her ears. “How'd you get so big, when I wasn't looking?”

Dear

- from Fogged Windows

Terra sighed as she smoothed her skirts, tugging at the darker dampened patches. “Oh, dear. It really is obvious what we've been doing, isn't it?” “You slipped while picking the carnations and pulled me down with you. Or we had a water fight, which I would win.” Terra laughed. “You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?” She slipped her sandals back onto her feet, but it helped little. Her hair was a knotted briar and her dress, wrinkled and wet, did nothing to disguise the prominence of her still-roused nipples. Celes nodded, reaching down past the sodden patches daubed on her legs for her boots. “We could head for my chambers, if you wish. They're closer and more out of the way. We'll find you something more presentable to put on.” And I could have you screaming the night away with no-one the wiser. You'll see what I can do with a bed under us, she didn't say. Not with Terra still pale and shaken and blinking away tears. Celes would only clothe her, hold her, let her fall asleep on her shoulder or read to her until guilt, that most unwelcome of intruders, left the way it came in the night.