#Risk of Malicious Commands

[news4nose]

Do you know that there are hidden, harmful commands within that normal-looking code? Instead of relying on copy-pasting, take the time to learn and understand the commands you’re using. Learning the basics of command-line operations can go a long way in helping you.

[candy69gurl]

POV: You are Sukuna's Vessel 1

Warnings- mentions of violence, threats

wc- 2k

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

As you were waiting outside the prison, you discovered that the Innate Domain of the cursed womb had vanished. You thought all you needed to do was wait for Yuji, but Sukuna showed up to let you know that's not going to happen.

Unusually upbeat, Sukuna accused Yuji of abusing his position of authority without making a deal. "Yet nonetheless…It's only a matter of time," he ended, effortlessly tearing off his hoodie and shirt. "I thought about what I can do right now."

With an abrupt, malicious laugh, he lifted his palm to his chest, pointing it directly in the direction of his heart and threatening to stab it.

"Your dear friend's story, ends here", Sukuna concluded, nails digging into Itadori's chest.

"Please wait I have a better deal for you", you quickly intervened," "T-take over my body instead.. I don't want Yuji to die", you spoke out without knowing the consequences.

Sukuna gave a hearty laugh, amused by your desperate plea. He slightly lowered his hand from Itadori's chest and tilted his head, looking at you with a smirk. "Oh, really?" His eyes sparkled with curiosity and interest.

"And why should I listen to you?" He questioned, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. He took a step towards you, closing the gap between you two.

Suddenly, he grabbed the collar of your clothes, pulling you closer to his face, capturing your gaze with his intense stare. His voice dripped with malice and anticipation as he leaned in, his breath warm on your skin. "Is your body worth saving your little friend's life?"

"I-I will allow you to take control over my body anytime you want", your voice shaking as you risk your life for Yuji's sake.

A wicked grin spread across Sukuna's face as he released your collar and stepped back, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Sukuna chuckled darkly, the corners of his lips curving up. Without hesitation, he extended his left hand, revealing the long, curved pinky finger adorned with its curse energy. He rips off the finger offering you as if it's a treat.

"Eat", he commanded.

You hesitated for a brief moment, considering the consequences of consuming Sukuna's finger.

With a determined look in your eyes, you cautiously lifted his finger to your lips, feeling the curse energy pulsating weakly in your grasp. Swallowing hard, you brought it to your mouth and slowly consumed the cursed digit, feeling a sudden jolt of energy coursing through your veins.

Immediately, your vision began to darken and your consciousness started to fade away. Your body fell limply, unconscious and powerless at Sukuna's feet. As your mind spiraled into darkness, you felt a wave of guilt and regret wash over you.

As you lost consciousness, Sukuna let out a triumphant laugh, admiring his newfound dominance over your body. With a smug expression, his voice echoing inside your brain

"Now, we have a deal, brat."

When Itadori finally regained control over his body, he found himself standing next to your unconscious form, a wave of panic washing over him. Looking down at his hand, he noticed the absence of his pinky finger, but he has no time for that

Without hesitation, he gently picked you up and rushed towards Jujutsu High, the urgency clear in his steps. He needed help for you, and fast. As he entered the school grounds, he called for Gojo and Shoko to help.

Upon examining you, Gojo and Shoko exchanged worried glances, concern etched on their faces. They discovered that although you were technically dead, a mysterious presence still lingered within your lifeless body.

Gojo furrowed his brow, focusing intently on the strange situation. "There's something... strange going on here..." He murmured, running his hands over your head as Shoko frantically searched for a solution.

Suddenly, Yuji's eyes widened in realization. He was no longer feeling the demonic presence inside him, his heart racing as he connected the dots. The missing finger, your unconscious state, and the absence of Sukuna's presence inside him all pointed towards one horrifying truth.

"Could it be.. Sukuna inside her?" Yuji exclaimed, panic rising in his voice as he looked from Gojo to Shoko, desperation shining in his eyes.

Gojo and Shoko exchanged curious glances. Shoko frowned, tapping her chin thoughtfully as she considered the possibility.

Inside your unconscious body, you found yourself locked in an internal battle. Your conscience raged against Sukuna's dominance, unwilling to surrender to his control.

Sukuna, unrelenting as usual, laughed derisively, flickering his dark energy around your mind, trying to assert his might over you. "Foolish human, you think you stand a chance against me?"

Your inner voice, tinted with defiance, responded, "No, but I won't give up!" You retorted fiercely, gathering your remaining strength and determination.

Sukuna sneered, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "Ah, so stubborn. But that's what makes it fun." He declared, tightening his grip even further, threatening to overwhelm your thoughts entirely.

An internal struggle ensued, your spirits clashing against each other. Each one trying to gain the upper hand, your mind a battleground of willpower and chaos.

But despite your resistance, you were starting to lose ground, the curse energy trying to suffocate your very essence. The fight felt futile, as if you were a tiny boat against a tsunami.

"Did you forget the deal that we make?", Sukuna yelled, "stop resisting my take over"

"I SAID I WILL LET YOU TAKE OVER ANY TIME YOU WANT, NOT ALWAYS", you yelled back.

Sukuna's laughter echoed within your mind, dark and sinister. "Really? Your such a smart ass. I was never planning on staying indefinitely," he said, his energy withdrawing slightly.

You felt a sense of relief, but the unease remained. This demon had a plan, and you knew it wasn’t for your benefit.

"But, I will re-alive you only on one condition" Sukuna warned, his voice deepening.

You gritted your teeth in defeat.

"You must not tell anybody that I am inside your body", his eyes still focused on yours.

"B-but why not?", you argued back.

"You don't need to know that.", he started laughing again, "so what do you say?"

Suddenly, your eyes fluttered open, shocking everyone in the room. Gojo and Shoko's faces were a mix of surprise and relief, while Yuji's eyes widened in astonishment.

"You're awake?" Yuji asked, concern lacing his voice as he cautiously observed your condition.

You managed a weak smile, still feeling the lingering effects of the internal struggle. "Yeah, I'm fine now."

Yuji's eyes narrowed, suspicion etched on his face. "Are you sure Sukuna isn't inside you?" He asked, his voice filled with concern and a hint of fear.

You hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the concerned faces of Gojo and Shoko. Sukuna's warning echoed in your mind, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at keeping this secret from your friends. "What do you mean by he is inside me..", you let out a loud laugh.

Yuji's expression softened, relief washing over him as he breathed a sigh of relief. But there was still an underlying worry in his gaze.

"I'm glad you're okay." He said, his voice sincere.

Gojo and Shoko exchanged a knowing look, concern still etched on their faces.

"We'll keep an eye on you," Gojo reassured, a hint of sternness in his voice.

"I can't believe your body is so weak," a familiar voice comes out from the mouth that forms on your face.

"I can't believe you're such a fucking bitch," you mutter under your breath, glaring at the mouth that's Sukuna.

Sukuna laughs, a sinister gleam in his eyes as he continued to taunt you.

"Oh, poor little brat, you can't handle a little parasitic infection? Maybe if you weren't such a weakling, I'd consider letting you keep this body," he cackles, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You feel a surge of anger, your fists clenching involuntarily, wanting to punch the face formed on your cheek.

"Fuck off, Sukuna," you retort, your voice shaking with both anger and fear. You can feel his presence in your mind, his influence over your body growing stronger by the minute.

You struggle to maintain control, but it was like fighting a losing battle. You can't shake the feeling of helplessness, knowing that Sukuna is the one truly in charge.

"I won't let you take over completely, I'll find a way to get rid of you," you promise, your voice shaking but determined.

Sukuna only laughs, "Remember our deals, little brat? Your body is mine, and I can do whatever I want with it," Sukuna hisses, his voice a deep and menacing rumble in your ears. "You have no control, no say in the matter. I can over your body whenever I wish, and you'll be powerless to stop me."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP", you snap.

The door bursts open, revealing Megumi and Nobara their brows furrowed with concern.

You quickly triy to compose yourself. You glance between them, trying to think of a believable lie to cover up the conversation you were having with Sukuna.

"Hey, what's going on?" Megumi asks, eyes scanning your face. You quickly try to compose yourself, but the tension is palpable.

"Oh, um, I was just...talking to myself," you stammer, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Megumi raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying your lie.

"That's odd," Nobara chimes in, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "We heard voices coming from inside. Was there someone else here?"

"Brat's in trouble", Sukuna snickers in your mind.

Your frustration boils over, and you feel the heat rising in your chest. "What does it have to do with you? Just mind your own business!", you snap, the words sharper than you intended.

The room falls into an uneasy silence, broken only by Sukuna's mocking laughter in your mind. "Oh girl, you have huge anger issues," he mocks, chuckling darkly.

"Just shut up!" you yell, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on you.

Everyone gets startled.

"S-sorry I did not mean it..", you whisper embarassed.

Nobara and Megumi exchange worried glances, "It's okay, Y/N. You have gone through a lot, we are leaving for today."

Rubbing your temples, trying to calm down, you realize how much trouble this could cause.

"We'll be back later to check on you," Megumi's voice rings in your ears, heavy with concern as they all leave, slamming the door behind them

As soon as they're gone, the mouth forms on your cheek again, Sukuna's smug grin clear as day.

"It's all your fault," you accuse Sukuna, your voice trembling with anger and despair. "Now they're worried about me because of you!"

"It was fun," Sukuna replies, his voice cold. "And because it's amusing to watch you squirm."

A sudden realization hits you like a ton of bricks, and you feel a wave of overwhelming emotions crashing over you. The room spins as you stagger back, a mental breakdown looming on the horizon. "I hate you so fucking much," you admit, your voice shaking with anger and pain.

Sukuna's laugh fills your mind, his voice echoing in your head. "Of course, you do. And I'm going to hurt a lot more than just your feelings, little brat," he promises, his words sending a chill down your spine.

Alone in the room, the weight of everything bears down on you. Tears well up in your eyes as you realize the depth of the mess you're in, both with your friends and with the cursed spirit residing within you. The room feels suffocating, and you collapse to your knees, overwhelmed by anger, fear, and the dark presence of Sukuna.

"I don't know what to do," you whisper to yourself, feeling utterly lost and trapped in a nightmare of your own making.

[umemiyan]

𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𝗫 𝗙!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / unprotected piv / noncon creampie, breeding + mentions of pregnancy / dom/sub dynamics / petnames (good girl, baby, sweetheart) / biting

“c’mon, be a good girl and let me cum inside this pretty pussy.”

he tries to persuade you as though he hadn't earlier promised that he would pull out, that he wouldn't attempt to sway you from your position of not being willing to take the risk and let him finish inside.

you vigorously shake your head and hum in disagreement at his proposal. toji's a dirty fucking liar but you somehow still find it in yourself to love him, to allow him to slide into you completely raw, knees almost up to your chest as he fucks you into the mattress because he has two different types of holds on you.

“aww, why not, sweetheart? you don’t want me to fill up that sweet little belly?" he punctuates every sentence with a heavy thrust, voice a malicious tease in your ear paired with an equally selfish grin. but then he moves to hold your gaze with a commanding intensity. "gimme fuckin’ words, baby. i need words.”

you gulp and gasp for air, his hips stopping long enough to allow you a moment to breathe. “i don’t want a baby.”

toji offers an amused scoff at your response. “yeah? s'that right?" he's convinced that a part of you is lying and that you wouldn't even think of letting him fuck you raw if something about the risk didn't appeal to you. "too afraid to be a mommy for my babies?"

those words ignite a flame of anxiety within you, but curiously enough also make you clench around him as he picks up the pace a little, holding back a growl as his fantasies wrack his brain.

"s’too bad," he says, tone growing more serious, "i think you’d be pretty good at it, even if you act like a brat yourself half the time.”

it almost doesn't sound like he's joking anymore, but how could he not be? there's no way toji could truly want a child—he can't even afford one, but all the possibilities make your thoughts go muddy and incomprehensible. you simply turn your head to the side to avoid looking at him straight on, flustered and overstimulated from previous orgasms, but he uses a strong hand to grab your cheeks and steer you back in the right direction.

“what the hell did i just say about using your words, huh? you better fuckin’ speak up or i’m breeding this tight little cunt right now." it almost seems as though he's offering you a choice with his hips speeding up and wrecking your insides like this. he's in control, but he's desperate, sweat beading along his forehead as he chuckles breathlessly. "hell, i might do it anyways with you suckin’ me in so good.”

gasping, your eyes go wide. “no, no, no!” you meekly protest, but it's too late—he pins your wrists to the bed and angles his hips to more accurately hit your deepest points, cock driving into you with even more purpose now.

“shit…” he curses and feels himself start to lose his composure, quickly slamming into you a few more times before halting balls deep and twitching his release out inside you. the hot, fresh surges of cum warm your womb as he stays rooted in place, determined to force his seed as deep as it can possibly go. in his mind, that’ll only make it easier for it to take and bring his current vision to fruition: you round and full with a baby that’s undoubtedly his. this is the image that flashes through his mind and makes his cock pulse with an orgasm that’s nearly paralyzing, teeth biting into the flesh of your neck like you're the pretty animal he's just claimed and mated.

once the storm has settled, his hot tongue licks over the mark in your skin to soothe it followed by a kiss and one more slow roll of his hips for good measure. "that's a good girl," the large pad of his thumb brushes the tears from your lashes as if he isn't the one who caused them. his hand is a little rough but still affectionate as it grips your face again and forces you into a possessive kiss.

toji pulls out of you with a wet squelch and a shit-eating grin. "gotta fight back a little better next time if you don't want me to get you pregnant."

[velvetures]

Simon is def the type of boyfriend/ husband to adopt a big dog for your anniversary present (even though it's so self serving, he just wants you to have extra protection). He even puts a little bow on the pups collar when he's presenting you with the new edition to the family. (I can see him with a Belgian/ German shepherd, doberman or even a pit mix breed)

Good Boy

Oh my god, there is no way Simon isn't insisting his S/O doesn't have a dog once you've become an established couple.

I think the only difference I have from your HC is that he'd already have the pup trained and nearly at full size when he brings it home for the first time.

Naturally, he's got plenty of experience after having Riley for years. And spent a lot of time sneaking some of your dirty clothes out of the house to put in the dog's kennel while it's being trained. Accustomating it with your scent and connecting your smell with something that isn't used in training unless it's a drill relating your scent to an object needing protection.

Simon isn't particularly attached to the dog emotionally in the way you're going to be. But he's adamant that other than himself, you're the only other person who will know how to command the dog. It's a safety measure that you're going to be a little resistant to at first, but once he explains that it's so you're always safe -even when he's away- you understand that it's for the best. Simon wants a loyal protector for you, and he's not risking you for anything.

In addition to that, Simon really understands and employs "scary dog privilege" tactics often. Even using himself as the warden who follows you around in public and keeps too many eyes from lingering. The dog he brings home is most certainly intimidating, yet impossibly patient and gentle with you. It's designed that way though. Simon trained the pup to think of you as mom essentially, and his only role is to always protect mom.

When he brought your cane corso home, Simon had nothing but pride for the stoic and well-trained guard dog.

The only problem with this is, you're too damn loving for your own good.

Where Simon won't let the dog on the couch, you put your foot down and demand it gets to sleep at the foot of the bed where you can tuck your feet under it to keep warm. He refuses to feed it anything other than its regimental diet, where you love making lick-mats and trialing a bunch of different dog-safe foods almost like your own little cooking show. Simon refuses to pet the dog all the time, but it's almost given he's going to come home and find you curled up with the massive beast on the couch. You -dead asleep- and the guard dog looming over your curled-up form and giving a low, malicious, growl.

Until it realizes Daddy has come home.

Then the big bastard won't leave Simon alone long enough to take his boots off without getting covered in drool and enough hair to make a fur coat.

These are the kinds of pictures you send Simon, utterly destroying his own mental image of the terrifying dog charged with keeping you safe. You're quite amused when he demands you stop making the dog look so pathetic.

[mistyresolve]

| Malicious Compliance - Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count - 6k

Summary - After a near-miss on a mission Diver (reader) decides it might be time to reconcile with Ghost the next time they get a chance. Unfortunately (very fortunately), the next chance they get is when they are forced to take refuge in the world's smallest safe house. And Ghost had never been one for words so he shows his forgiveness in a more unorthodox way.   

Tags/Warnings - 18+ ONLY (mdni), explicit language and content, foreplay, size kink, slight breath play, he’s your superior and he’s all about you, p in v,    

A/N - yup, more porn with plot because it’s fun and i’ve been ✨inspired✨ 

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form

Ghost wasn’t in the wrong for being angry with you. He was one of the more reasonable LTs, but you tested his patience, questioned his authority, and disobeyed his orders. Not only that, but you disappointed him. You had completely disregarded his orders and nearly got yourself and a crew mate killed in the process. 

You were angry with yourself too. If it were just your life on the line you would have been smug, but you put another at risk. You prided yourself in your ability to get yourself out of any sticky situation, sometimes it was by the skin of your teeth. Hence the alias “Diver”. You received it from your first platoon leader because you dive into every risky situation. Usually, eyes closed. Usually, with no plan. And somehow came out the other side every time.  

Usually, you got a yelling at and the occasional latrine duty.    

This time was different. As soon as the team landed back on base Ghost stalked over to you. He ripped the rifle out from your hands and shoved you with enough force that you stumbled, barely catching yourself from falling. Oh, he was livid. 

“You forget yourself, Dive,” he tossed your gun back into the chopper and pressed onto you again, “Your recklessness is going to get someone killed one of these days. And you better hope that someone is you before it's anyone else.” 

The words stung, but he was right.  

“Get on the ground and give me a hundred,” he barked. He would write you up later tonight and inquire about other punishments.   

You dropped to the ground, your fingers splayed out on either side of you and waited for his go-head. 

“Hands together.” 

You shifted your hands closer together, creating a diamond shape with your fingers. The change would make the push up’s only a little harder but it would catch up with you eventually. 

“Down.”

You lowered your weight. 

“Up.” 

You raised yourself, arms snapping. 

“Down,” he repeated and you listened, eyes searing into the ground beneath you. When he you gave the command to continue on your own you did. Lowering yourself down, nose almost touching the ground. The breath that pushed out with every extension of your arms blew at the dusty pavement. Your movements were practiced and full of power. This wasn’t the first time you had to drop and give 100 since you had a bit of a reputation. 

You were on 30 when he growled, “Stop.” 

You paused, your nose to nose touching the floor and maintaining your body weight in the down position. 

“Restart and make sure you count this time” 

“One,” you blow out, not because of the exertion but because you yourself were angry. Each breath felt like it was stolen, “Two. Three. Four…” The muscles in your arms began to burn something sweet. You leaned into the pain, using it as a crutch to remain levelheaded. You earned the pain. You glared at the black boots that were planted two feet in front of you, “…Sixty nine. Seventy.” 

“That’s enough,” he was still angry, but he had places to be and watching you wasn’t a priority. He would take care of the rest and you later. 

You didn’t stop, wrenching your gaze to his. Temper simmering. Sweat beaded at your temples and dripped down your arms. Sweat droplets stained the pavement. You continued counting. He said 100. You were going to give him 100. 

He matched your glare, his own eyes narrowing on you, but he didn’t try stopping you again. Instead, he pivoted and left you there. Counting. You watched him leave, watched as he rolled his shoulders, trying to rid himself of his own fury. In the chopper, he looked like he wanted to throw you out the side and watch you freefall back to earth.   

You didn’t stop even when his form disappeared. Your teammates had been kind enough to leave with him, knowing you didn’t want the company. The last 15 push ups were the hardest and the slowest. For the last 5 you shook, strained, and ground your teeth together, gathering the last dregs of strength. When you hit the 100 you brought yourself to your knees, allowing time to catch your breath. 

The pilot was sitting on the side helicopter, your gun resting in her lap, “You deserve it?’ she questioned and held out the rifle for you. 

Breathless you say, “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”              

She might not have been there for the actual incident but she most definitely didn’t miss out on the aftermath, “Kinda wish I brought popcorn with me on missions. You guys always leave me with a show,” she kicked off the platform and added with a wide, fox-like smile, “Especially when he’s on board.”

It wouldn’t take a genius to discern that she was talking about Ghost, who had a certain affinity for the dramatics. You shrug a shoulder at her, grabbing your gun and picking up your day pack, “He and I don’t get along on the best of days, and I’m really good at pissing him off.” 

She hummed, “You better figure that one out before it gets to the point where he starts grounding you.” 

“What, give him flowers and an apology card?” 

“He seems like a chocolate kind of guy,” she started walking with you towards the hangar. She gave off the vibe that she thrived off the drama. Not in a nosey, malicious kind of way, but she would have no qualms about being a spectator. 

“He’d kick my ass if I did that,” and he would. He would kick your eyes just for bothering him with your presence. 

“If that’s what it takes for him to come around, let ‘em,” with that she parted from you, twiddling her fingers over her shoulder as a goodbye.

Mud splashed beneath your feet with every running step, it splashed up your pant leg and covered your boots. You had lost your guy's tail hours ago but it was still raining hard enough that you started running the last miles to the supposed safe house. You used the term house loosely because as you came up on the fire watch tower you had to double check with Ghost to make sure he had the right location. He assured you with a nod. 

The latter to the spiralling stairs had since been removed and he had to intertwine his fingers to give you a foothold and hoist you up to the platform. You reached for his day pack first, then extended a hand for him. He’s heavier than he looks because you were far from weak but even with your free hand clamped to the railing you struggled to heave him up with you. 

“What do they feed you?” you groaned, rubbing at your shoulder. 

“Children. Let’s go,” he quipped, grabbing his bag and taking off up the stairs two steps at a time. When you reached him at the top he was already thumbing the key out of the whole carved out of the wooden railing. 

The fire tower was decommissioned years ago, but all the maps and posters were left behind. The Osborne Fire Finder in the center of the room was left on the coordinates of whatever last fire was called in. You scanned the room and Ghost closed and locked the door behind you. There was a rounded table pushed into a corner, and a small counter and a sink adjacent to it. A desk that was littered with old reports and notes, remnants of what must have been the radio station, and a tool. And a singular bed. 

“Cozy,” you dropped your bag onto the desk and started drawing the curtains to the millions of windows, “What’s your plan, LT?” 

“We need to get our radios working and contact HQ for an exfil,” he was already removing his radio from its pouch, its antenna was missing and the headset that usually accompanied it was left behind. A bullet clipped its’s earpiece and ripped it off his head to be exact. Adrenaline was too high for anyone to bat an eye at the fact that a couple of inches to the left and he would have been dead. That was also moments before he called a withdrawal and you and he got separated from the rest of the squad. Your radio has also seen better days, it took a direct shot. It saved your life but the fact that both of your radios were damaged was beyond unlucky. You tossed your radio to him, or whatever was left of it. 

“Were you trying to get shot?” he examined the device before setting it on the table next to his. He turned on a propane lamp, it hissed to life and its unmistakable smell quickly filled the room. 

“Were you?” 

“Shh.” 

You started to remove your vest and soaked jacket. Ghost hung his vest on the chair opposite him and got as far as unzipping the top of his jacket before he got distracted. He squinted at the desk, searching the radio parts when he spotted what he thought he could use. Finding what he was looking for he grabbed it all and returned to the table. 

The rain hammered against the glass panes and the wind whistled through the cracks around the door. This tower wasn’t the best insulated and combining that with the years of neglect meant it wasn’t retaining heat like it probably use to. You searched the cupboards and chest if see if someone stored blankets here beforehand.

“Aha!” you pulled out a green military issues blanket out of one of the chests, “How long think that’ll take you?” You asked as you leaned against the desk, the blanket wrapped around your shivering shoulders.     

“If I can,” he sighed, “I’ll have it figured out by morning. Just have to improvise…everything,” he already disassembled everything and he was inspecting each component. This wasn’t the first time he’s had to rebuild his radio or the first time he’s had to improvise. It was just that every time he caught a glimpse of yours he lost his train of thought. That bullet was meant for you and it was meant to be fetal. That fact was nagging at him, pulling at his chest.        

You chewed the inside of your cheek as you watched him fiddle about. The last couple of weeks you had been preparing what you were going to say to him about the last mission. Practicing how you were going to apologize to him. You cleared your throat, “I, uhh,” he looked up from the table, sensing your unease. For a brief second, you considered going and sitting out in the rain just to get away from him, “About our last assignment. You were right about me and I was out of line.”  

 He rested his temple on a fist and glowered at you from beneath his brows, his expression angry.    

“Would you stop mad dogging me so I can get through my speech,” you snapped, throwing the blanket onto the bed. 

He threw up a hand in the what? gesture, “I’m not mad dogging you.”   

“You are.” 

“’m not.” 

“Just,” you waved a hand at the radios still disassembled before him, “glare at that so I can concentrate.”  

He rolled his eyes but lowered them to the table, pretending to be considering the materials and parts. 

“Thank you,” you blow out a breath, recollecting your half-prepared speech, “I didn’t think he’d run in after me,” you confessed, “People aren’t usually dumb enough to do that—”

“You are.”

“Yup. Let me finish. I understand that you as a superior have to consider everyone’s safety, and I haven’t exactly made that easy for you. The last thing I want is to put you and my team at risk. On the other hand, I work better on my own. Like you,” he looked back up this time some of the anger had dissipated, but he looked like he was rallying to say something so you put a hand to silence him, “I’m not asking you to relieve me from the squad. I’d miss them too much. I’m asking you to give me a chance to prove myself. Let me prove to you that I can go solo. Or atleast let me join you every once in a while so I can learn.” 

“Dive, you have no idea how much paperwork you’ve cost me,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“I have a little bit of an idea,” you mumbled shamefully.  

“I can’t take you on my assignments, and I can’t send you on solos,” he looked uncomfortable. Or maybe uneasy, “You need to prove to me that you can follow the orders I already give you.”

“I will,” you almost started pleading, “I promise, and if I’m alone I won’t be putting anyone else at risk.”

“It’s not just about your squad, Dive,” he picked up the casing from your radio, the plastic and metal left a mangled mess from the bullet, “I need you to stay alive, and I can’t make sure of that if I let you run off on your own. One day you won’t make it back.”     

You blinked at him. 

I need you to stay alive. 

He wasn’t mad at you for being brash, he was scared that one of these times your luck was going to run out. He was scared you were going to die on him. That you were going to leave him behind. 

He tossed the casing back onto the table, defeated. 

“Ghost, I didnt—” you hesitated, searching for the right words. 

I didn’t know that you cared that much.  

If you did your interactions with him would have been very very different. 

“Don’t,” he shook his head. This was not how he was planning on exposing himself. Not that he ever planned on confessing in the first place. He was going to take it to his grave. He was planning to get rid of the sickly warm feeling in his chest every time he saw you. Every time he was around you or thought of you. 

You pushed off the desk and made your way to stand in front of him, in between his legs. He tilted his head back to look up at you, his hands twitching in his lap. You took one of his hands and crouched before him. Even in the dimly lit room, you could see his pupils flare as you placed his hand on your chest, right about your pounding heart. The heat from his palm soaked into your still damp shirt, warming the skin underneath. 

“I’m alive, no?” you placed your other hand on top of his, the size comparison between your hand and his made your toes curl in your boots. 

“Yes,” he was utterly still as he searched your face. He was all analyses and contemplation. He touched you like he was afraid you would dissolve before his eyes; like if he spoke too loud you’d slip through his fingers like smoke.    

“Go ahead,” he didn’t need to verbalize whatever he was thinking because you could see it in the crease at his brow, the tightness in his jaw.  

He glided his hand up to your face, his bare thumb drawing a line from the side of your mouth and across your cheek. His fingers curled around the back of your neck, diving into the mess of wet hair. The sound of the rainstorm outside faded into nothing when his other hand cradled the other side of your face. You reached up to his mask, fingers finding their way underneath to pull it up over his mouth and nose. You half expected him to stop you, for him to tell you all the reasons he shouldn’t be touching you, but he didn’t.

He didn’t give you time to admire him before he was leaning down and his soft mouth was on yours. The kiss was sweet and innocent, nothing more than him wanting to feel you closer. Something about the kiss was tentative and unsure and in an attempt to soothe his uncertainty, you entangled your fingers into the lapels of his jacket, pulling him even closer. He tilted your head to open the kiss and allow him better access. He nipped at your bottom lip when you didn’t immediately open your mouth to him. His tongue swiped at the same spot on your lip as if to apologize before delving in to explore. You moaned into him as his tongue found yours and as he licked and kissed his way with you. 

The kiss may have started off as a manifestation of tragic tormented desire, but it very quickly morphed into something desperate and hot. He kissed you like you were opium and he was chasing a high. He tasted you like he was craving you. 

A hand dipped down to your waist and he tugged at you till you were straddling his thigh. He ran his hands up and down your body before gripping at your hips. His thumbs dug into the sensitive flesh there. Not once did either of you pull away. Not even for a breath. You tug down the zipper on his jacket, and then immediately dove under the bottom of his shirt desperate for the feel of his bare skin. He groaned at the contact, his muscles tightening at your chilled fingers. Heat and pleasure shot down to your core at the sound. 

He could feel your cunt pulse against his thigh, and he thought his soul had left his body. He fantasizes about having you in this exact position before, riding his leg. Riding him. He’s thought about you underneath him, begging for more. If he wasn’t so desperate for you he would have been giddy. 

His grip tightened and it was sure to leave marks that would last for days, “Go ahead, Dive. Grind on me,” he kissed a constellation from your lip across your neck, sucking bruises into the delicate skin. 

You rolled your hips once and the unhurried pace only amplified the pleasure that shot up your spine. You mewed at him when he guided you into a slow gentle pace and leaned back into the chair to get a better view. His lips were red and swollen, and his lids were heavy with lust. You pushed a side of his jacket off his shoulder, a silent command that you wanted it off. He took his hands off you just long enough to shrug off the jacket and yank off the shirt underneath. He was all hard muscle, golden skin and ink. Scars mottled his skin, some old and some new enough that they were still in the healing process. Each one was a near-miss and a miracle. You would find time later to kiss every one of them. 

With tender hands, he lifted the thin material of your shirt. The speed and precision at which he removed your bra were enough for you to make a mental note to ask him just how many times he’s done that maneuver afterwards. If only to get a rise out of him. 

“Lemme see you,” his eyes roamed over your body leisurely, his rough hands scraping against your supple skin, “You’re fucking beautiful,” his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when you started rocking your hips again. What he wouldn’t give to be in this moment with you forever.   

A lewd haze made your head heavy forcing it to fall back, your mouth hanging open with a moan. A hand reached up to catch the back of your head, fingers curling, “Keep your eyes on me, Dive,” he laid his accent on thick. You locked eyes with him, his pupils were blown. You braced your hands on his leg, nails digging into the fabric and the muscle underneath. The friction was just where you needed it, and every motion was like electricity in your veins. 

Heat flooded your cheeks as you realized what exactly you were doing. You were grinding your wet pussy on your lieutenant's thigh, while he murmured obscenities into your skin; and it should have made you feel ashamed it instead made you feel like every nerve ending was firing. It was naughty and deviant but it only made it more thrilling. The probability of someone finding out, or the sexual tension that was sure to follow was exhilarating. 

He dragged his mouth from your neck to your breast, sucking a hard nipple into his mouth. His teeth nipped at you, only for his tongue to follow to alleviate any pain. A hand reached up to knead your other breast, his thumb flicking over the sensitive bud. 

He felt like heaven and each point of contact was absolutely divine.    

Small pants turned into throaty moans and your hips stuttered as you chased your climax. You were teetering on the edge with eyes closed when you heard, “Atta girl, come for me,” and you crashed into the orgasm. Your mind went blank and all you could think about was him, all you could feel was him. Ghost helped lull you through it with strong hands holding you down on his leg and guiding your shuddering hips.

“Oh my god,” he groaned. Pure electricity was streaming through your veins. More. You needed more of him. You could feel the slickness between your legs and it was most likely seeping through your pants and wetting his. Good. You wanted to be all over him. Moving in for another kiss and immediately opened his mouth for you, letting your tongue dominate his. He buckled his belt with one hand as he adjusted your positions, shuffling you backwards until the back of your knees met the bed. He pulled down your pants and undergarments before settling you back onto the bed. Leaving you completely bare for him. You were at the perfect height to lick a long, sloppy line up his defined stomach. His wide shoulders and narrow waist made him look delectable. 

“Tell me what you want,” he ordered, pulling the belt from the loops, and going for the zipper next. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you bleated. You would have said anything he told you to. 

The wolfish smile he gave made you squeeze your thighs together, “You’re going to have to prove to me you deserve that first.” 

When he didn’t move to pull his pants down you reached for them yourself, you wanted to see what he hid under there. Licking your lips, “How do I do that? Want me to suck you dry?” 

He grasped your wrists, stopping you, “Touch yourself for me. Show me how you do it when you think of me.” 

Of course, he knew. Of course, he knew you whimpered his name while you touched yourself at night. He knew from the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. The way your attention lingered on him, on his  

“I thought you weren’t going to send me on any solos?” you retort, spreading your legs even further apart. His pupils flared as he watched your arousal drip down into the sheets and the groan that followed sounded like he was in distress.   

“You’re a brat,” he knelt on the bed, one knee in between your legs to block you from closing them on him when he dragged a hand up your leg, stopping just before your cunt. The proximity and promise were intoxicating, and you worried you would cum again before he even touched you, he brought his lips just shy of a kiss, “Touch. Yourself,” it was a command. He held onto his self-control like it was a living, breathing entity. He teased it just to the point of discomfort before reigning it back into submission. 

“Are you going to pull rank on me, LT?” you lifted your hips towards his fingers, and he allowed for the contact. He dipped them into your arousal, drawing a line from your core back to your thigh. His head dipped down to look at your mess, and his next breath was short of a gasp. 

“Do you want me to?” he questioned, although he sounded far away. Not far in physical distance, but his mind was someplace else entirely. He was imagining the taste of you and the way you’d push his face further into your pussy if he dropped to his knee and eat you out. He would have done just that if he hadn’t already set his foot down, “Now, Dive. Or I leave you like this,” This time when he met your eyes you were met with sadistic honesty. He would. It would nearly be the death of him, but he would leave you wanton on the bed. He would turn around and finish fixing the radio. 

Your breath caught in your chest and then your hand slid down your stomach before reaching your center. Still sensitive from your earlier climax you jolted at the first bit of contact. You bit down on your lip to keep from crying out when you pushed a single finger in with ease. You were already ready for his cock, you would have taken all he had to give you, and more. He palmed the thick bulge through his pants with a hand as he watched, matching his strokes with each pump of your fingers. 

Your fingers were nothing compared to how he would feel but knowing he wouldn’t give you his frustrated you beyond belief. You rubbed tight, swift circles around your clit, while your other hand worked your cunt, needing every bit of stimulation. He hooked an arm under your knee, holding it up and to the side to allow him a full view. 

“Such a pretty little thing,” he shook his head in disbelief that you were actually beneath him and pulled his cock free from its confines. He was massive. Long, yes, but he was thick. The head alone would hurt going in. Pre was leaking from the tip and his thumb swiped it to coat the underneath of his shaft. You were expecting him to be big but he was next level. He was going to tear you apart. 

No wonder he wasn’t preparing you so thoroughly. 

You practically pounced on him. Well, tried to. He moved faster than you and shoved you back onto the bed, his teeth flashing in the dim lamp light, “Did I say stop?” 

“Please,” you could only hope you didn’t sound as pathetic as you felt. 

You did. 

“Please, Riley,” your wet fingers wrapped around the arm that held you down.

“Say my name, baby,” he tilted his head to the side, his chest heaving in anticipation. 

“Please, Simon. I need you to touch me,” please, please, please.      

With one hand still holding you to the bed, his other hand replaced yours. Shoving two thick fingers into your weeping cunt and the wet squelching sounds it made were offensive. But, oh my god, he felt like sex itself. Long awaited and godly. He wasn’t rough but his fingers were snug and every pump was fast. His fingers curled and he hit the spongy spot inside you. He brought you to the edge fast and hard. You bowed off the bed, hips raising. If it was to get away from him or to somehow get him closer, you couldn’t tell if your life was dependent on it. You choked out a sob and another climax threatened. 

He moved with your every jump and shake, he heeded to your body and listened to every sound that escaped you. He cataloged every expression and reaction. 

As your orgasm suffocated you the moan that followed morphed into a scream from the force of it. Your vision evaded you for a second, and stars swam. Your legs gave out on you and trembled as he rode the high with you, his movement slowed and tender.    

If he so much as asked you for your name you wouldn’t have been able to remember it. Faintly you could feel his hands rub calming circles onto your thigh, murmuring affirmations. He had his fingers in you mere seconds and he had to dumbified. He was too good at it. 

At base, there was a group of girls that gossiped about how some of the men are be in bed. You’d be lying if you said you haven’t taken part in some of those conversations. All out of boredom and fun and Ghost was a subject in those conversations a couple of times and just as you expected his reputation precedes him. You knew he’s been with other women, you’d heard from those same women the specifics, but you couldn’t help the jealousy that bubbled up like soda.    

He slid his cock into your pussy and bottomed out before you could comprehend what was going on. He slowly stretched you out deliciously and you were so full of him it felt like he was in your stomach. You felt a hand brush away hair from your face, the action bringing you back to your body. 

“Tell me when,” he murmured into the space between you, his voice was like velvet. You felt him twitch inside you, his own restraint taut. Every muscle in his body was tensed, readying for your approval. You made a cautious roll of your hips. The discomfort liquefied into sensual heat, and you sighed at the release.

He moved methodically and with unhurried thrusts. He listened and watched to know when he needed to stop and give you a moment to collect yourself. He was so careful with you. So gentle.

In and out. In and out. In and out. 

His strokes went from languid to rhythmic snaps. He leaned down for a kiss, bracing himself on the bed with his elbows. In between kisses, he whispered to you about how good you were doing taking him. Honey dripped from his tongue and coated his words.    

The head of his cock knocked against your cervix and you clung to his tattooed forearm, teeth sinking into the flesh and ink there. He growled at the sudden pain, his fingers fisting the sheets. He would accept whatever marks you gave him, and he would show them off. He would come crawling back for more before the old ones could fade away.                                      

“Fuck me,” he huffed into the sheets and gritted his teeth, as your nails raked across the span of his back in an attempt to bring him closer. A thin sheen of sweat coated your bodies. 

“Faster,” your hand disappeared under the back of his mask to find silky hair and tugged. He was more than happy to do as he was told. He shifted back on his knees, throwing both your legs to one side so you were still on your back but he could enter you from behind. Somehow, Somehow he was able to stroke deeper inside of you, with an angle that felt euphoric. The moan he unleashed from his chest was downright obscene.    

You were practically drooling and your eyes rolled, “Yes, yes, yes,” you weren’t going to last. Your skin felt too tight and your blood was too hot. Judging by the downright obscene moan he unleashed from his chest, he was close too. 

Again his hand found your breast and squeezed hard enough to bring attention to it, before sliding up to your throat. His fingers encircled and tightened just enough for it to become a little difficult to breathe. 

He’s killed grown men with that very same hand around their throats. He could do the same to you in an instant and yet you didn’t shy away from him. Your trust in him drove him absolutely wild. His thrusts became sloppy and irregular. 

“Cum with me,” you begged, not just with your words but with your eyes. You needed him like air like he was pleasure itself. 

It broke him, your words broke him. It was all he needed for the tether to sanity to snap and he drove himself into you, his fingers digging into flesh and muscle in an attempt to ground himself to his own body. His new vigour was merciless and forced whimpers from you, ripped them right from your chest. 

Your thirst climax was devastating, so intense not even a sound could escape you. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, your cunt spasming around him. If he didn’t pull out to release himself on your ass when he did you probably would have kicked him off you from overstimulation. His groans and ravaged pants conveyed his own fatigued and satisfaction before his words could. Strength betrayed him and he plopped onto the bed beside you, taking your achy body with him so you were laying across his broad chest. You laid silently for a time and you traced the lines of his tattooed arm and the bite mark you had given to him. His heart hammered against his chest, and his voice resonated against your ear as he spoke, “You felt exactly how I imagined you’d feel,”

A sheepish smile spread across your face, “You felt better than I imagined you’d feel,” and he did. A man hasn’t made you feel that good in…well, ever.   

He made a sound that resembled a laugh, “We better get you cleaned up,” he delicately moved you off him, offering the blanket you found earlier for warmth while he dressed. He wet a tea towel with the canteen of water underneath the kitchenette and helped you clean up his and your mess. Then he tossed you a clean shirt from his day pack, “Get some rest. I need to finish fixing this damn thing so we can get the hell out of here.” 

You don’t know how long it took him to fix the radios (or if he slept), because you fell asleep shortly after but when you awoke in the morning he had already packed everything up and called in an exfil. They were going to pick you two up in 20 mins, and you and Ghost spent that 20 sharing hot, sloppy kisses with your body trapped between him and the door. If the chopper took any longer you were sure he would have taken you right there. 

You readjusted your satchel for the third time, tightening the straps till you couldn’t anymore. The pilot was the same woman from your last mission, her all-knowing eyes widening when she saw you, “You been working out more, Ghost? Or did your vest shrink in the wash?”  

Oh, shit. 

He looked down at the badge on the chest, before jerking his attention to the badge on yours, of the lack thereof. 

Somehow you’d mixed up your vests on your way out the door. 

“Honest, mistake,” he shrugged and removed it with expert efficiency switching it with you for his.   

“I’ve never made it,” the pilot teased, not even trying to hide her smile.

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form

A/N - he’s so yummy

Taglist - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎  @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎ @purplefishingline ❤︎  @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @dog55teeth ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes​

[musaslullaby]

Enemies on road

Carlos Sainz x fem reader

Summary: A fierce rivalry on the Formula 1 track turns into a moment of forgiveness and unexpected romance between two drivers.

Warning: fluff

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The tension was at its peak. My foot pressed down on the accelerator as if it were the only purpose in my life. Driving made me feel alive; I didn't care about the risk I was taking. I was ready to accept death in a Formula 1 car, convinced that it was the most dignified way to honor the sport I had devoted myself to with passion.

"Can I fight?" I asked, focused. Even if the engineers had said no, I would have done it anyway. I would have worn those tires down to the last shred.

"It's all yours." The affirmative response hit my ears, accompanied by a surge of adrenaline. My mind was focused, my hands trembling slightly from the strength with which I gripped the steering wheel.

I swerved left, trying to slip into the space Carlos Sainz had left unguarded. In a matter of moments, we were wheel to wheel, our cars sparking as we raced down the straight. I increased speed, approaching 350 km/h, but he wouldn't back down. The more I pushed, the more he pushed; he either mimicked me or tried to defend himself with all his might.

"What the hell!" I shouted, slamming my hands violently against the steering wheel. That tiny bit of distraction was enough for the car to veer in the opposite direction, completely stopping its response to my commands. A sudden wave of fear swept over me as I slammed on the brakes with all the strength I had, but it was all in vain—the car kept gaining speed.

A large cloud of dust rose, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself against the barrier. From what I could see in the cockpit, the car had sustained severe damage.

"Are you okay?" my engineer asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"I'm fine, but they should teach that idiot Sainz how to drive, because apparently, he's seriously lacking," I replied, fully unleashing my anger. At that moment, all I could see was red, fiercer than the flames of hell.

I unbuckled the steering wheel with superhuman strength and climbed out of the cockpit. Like an idiot, I waited by my car, which was completely wrecked from the violent impact, for the safety car. But what bothered me the most was that this two-bit driver was still racing and had taken my damn third place.

When I returned to the pits after the medical check, I felt all the cameras on me, but I had no desire to talk to the press.

"Get them out of here before I scream at them," I said, agitated, as I headed towards my cabin without looking anyone in the face.

I collapsed onto the blue leather couch and let out a scream of frustration, which did nothing to improve my state of mind.

I was covered in bruises, in pain, and felt like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. I wanted to be alone, but I didn't even have that luck, because the race was over and my duties with the media awaited me. How I hated press conferences, and even more, those stupid journalists who ask malicious questions just to get a scoop, or whatever the hell they call it.

A very kind girl, with a welcoming smile, showed me where to sit. Of course, these press people had organized everything to perfection. When I sat down on that uncomfortable little couch, I found myself facing Carlos's playful grin, invading my personal space.

"Wipe that horrible grin off your face and move away. Isn't it enough that you invaded my personal space with that damn car?" I whispered nervously, so only he could hear, and I wouldn’t get scolded by my team for my foul and impolite language.

"Admit it, you didn't mind," he responded, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

I wanted to tear him apart, make him take back everything he had said, but they handed us microphones and started the usual round of stupid questions.

As soon as the last question was answered, I was the first to jump up and walk as fast as possible away from that room full of people; I almost felt like I was suffocating. Someone called my name from afar, but I ignored it.

I returned to my small, cozy room. In my head, I had planned everything: I would stay there for the next two hours, so no one could interrogate me or even speak to me.

But after just a few seconds, someone knocked on the door. At first, I didn't want to waste my breath, but then the voice that spoke to me was so sweet, sincere, and regretful that my heart involuntarily softened.

Slowly, I opened the door and found the Spaniard standing there, his eyes red and his spirits low.

"Can I come in, please?" he asked in a barely audible whisper. With a nod, I stepped aside, letting him in.

"Did you come to make fun of me?" I asked with a defeated sigh, collapsing onto the couch.

"I'm sorry, I went too far. I didn't mean to push you off the track; I took a risk and was stupid. I'm sorry," his voice was calm, shaken by some tremors of sadness and genuine regret, in stark contrast to the tone he had used during the conference.

"You know I would never intentionally hurt you?" he added, with an obvious note of hesitation in his voice.

I lowered my gaze. It was too much to process; too many emotions were swirling around, creating a tsunami inside me. I had been furious with him, but now I just wanted to drown in one of his bear hugs and sink into his soft lips.

A gentle and delicate touch snapped me out of my thoughts. He was there, in front of me, looking at me with those brown eyes full of love and guilt. I couldn't stand it; I couldn't see him like that. I pulled him towards me, slowly. We looked at each other for a few seconds, our gazes traveling from our lips to our eyes, and then I felt the warmth of his breath brushing my face.

We gave in. I held him tightly as his lips met mine in a kiss full of apologies and a need for love. He wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me in a tender embrace. Finally, we pulled away, not because we wanted to end the kiss, but because of the lack of air.

Carlos pressed his lips to my forehead. "You forgave me?"

"Just this once," I said, breathless. I saw a happy and calm smile spread across his face, and I would have given anything to see it more often and protect him from the entire world that didn't believe in us.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Choose Your True Love - Azel Radwan (part 2/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. 

Azel (polite): We have 1, 2…3, 4 risk-takers here…Tonight will be a fun night, won’t it?

(Prince Azel?!)

Standing before the large moon, he was cloaked in a holy aura far different from the usual malicious god.

His mysterious presence nearly brought me, an acquaintance, to my knees. The domineering men prostrated in the sand, showing respect.

Ruffian: Living God, we were only going to escort this lost woman back to the city—

Azel (polite): Are you sure? You are making such false confessions so shamelessly. The details of what happened to people who had incurred God’s wrath and received divine punishment have been passed down as legends. However, I am a benevolent god, so I will overlook this one mistake. So—what were you trying to tell me?

Ruffian: ……Our apologies.

Azel (polite): I believe you are apologizing to the wrong person.

Ruffian: Our apologies…miss.

Emma: It’s fine…

(...They’re all trembling)

It wasn’t like Prince Azel wanted to kill them.

There wasn’t even a hint of anger in his words.

Still, the tension was so oppressive that it felt as if a single divine command would erase not just their life, but their whole existence.

Azel (polite): You were about to lay your hands on God’s property. And my policy is to not show compassion to scoundrels who lay their hands on my property. In any case, God’s punishment will come. Be it tomorrow, or the day after, only I know.

There were no objections from the men.

It appeared they understood that they shouldn’t do this sort of thing to the Living God.

Azel (polite): Live piously while trembling in fear. So as to not incur more of God’s wrath.

Prince Azel wrapped an arm around my waist, but as if he remembered something, let go and quickly walked away.

He seemed to be heading toward the city, not the temple.

(...I’ll follow him)

I ran after Prince Azel’s retreating figure.

Now far from the men, I turned my head and saw that they still haven’t looked up.

When the city lights drew closer, Prince Azel finally stopped.

When our eyes met, God’s smile faded.

Azel: Why aren’t you carrying that with you?

Emma: “That”?

Azel: …You don’t have it on you?

Emma: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Prince Azel held his head and sighed.

Azel: That’s right. I wasn’t interested in you at this time.

Emma: …? Setting whatever you’re talking about aside, thank you very much for saving me earlier. I didn’t think you would save me like that… Prayers really do reach God.

Azel: It’s nice to see you’re in a good mood.

I ran after him when he walked away again.

Emma: Are you heading to the city?

Azel: Don’t you want to go home?

Emma: Pardon me for asking, but are you escorting me back?

(That refreshing indifference Prince Azel has toward others…)

Azel: Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m just taking a walk.

Emma: Of course you are. …But you’ve never gone for a walk to the city, have you? The reason why I run errands for you in the first place is because you can’t freely walk around the city—

Azel: Are you complaining about what a god’s doing?

A scowling Prince Azel came closer and pinched my cheek.

Emma: I’m sowwy.

Azel: As long as you understand. Look, when I said “a walk”, I meant it. Distrust’s blasphemous.

I nodded and the fingers tormenting my cheek left.

I followed after the footprints left by his long legs, trying not to fall behind.

(Huh? Even when I’m walking as hard as I can, I usually can’t catch up with him. But today, the distance between us isn’t as wide)

(Is Prince Azel matching my pace…? There’s no way)

--

Emma: …Prince Azel, how far are you going to walk for?

Azel (polite): Until I’m satisfied.

Now that he was surrounded by people, he suddenly switched to being polite.

Prince Azel’s sudden appearance startled people passing by.

Usually there’s advanced notice before Prince Azel visits court.

People needed to mentally prepare themselves before their living god appeared, so with his sudden appearance in the middle of the night, a wave of commotion gradually spread.

(Prince Azel didn’t go near the castle because he knew this would happen…)

(Everything really is weird)

(This Prince Azel looks like the one I knew, but it’s as if he’s been completely replaced…At least that’s how it feels)

Azel (polite): …Living in the castle is inconvenient, isn’t it?

It was like Prince Azel didn’t care about the racket around us as he glanced at me.

Emma: Y-yes…As your guest, I’ve always been treated with the highest courtesy.

Azel (polite): That is good to hear. Should you experience any form of displeasure, please let me know. Being disrespectful to my guest means being disrespectful to me.

Prince Azel’s voice was loud enough for everyone around us to hear, making them nervous.

(This concern he had for me was giving me the creeps)

(Just what in the world are you thinking, Prince Azel)

--

Emma: —Wait, why did you follow me into my room?!

[favvn]

Spock attempts a degree of malicious compliance to get out of having a physical examination. Technically speaking, all Kirk ordered of him was to report to Sickbay. That order did not explicitly include submitting to a physical examination. (And yes, Spock's right to decline is gone after he ordered the ship to Vulcan. Between his emotional outbursts, threats of violence (even if only to McCoy), and now not recalling giving a command order as he had the Comm, Spock is a risk to the safety of the crew and the ship.)

And McCoy! I specifically did a clip for this scene owing to his expressions and the way that DeForest Kelley will convey so much of McCoy's thoughts through them. McCoy will have none of Spock's Vulcan logic. He cuts right to the quick by pointing out that he is under his own orders to Kirk. At any other time, the remark to, "yield to the logic of the situation," would be a joking rib to Spock being a Vulcan. In this context, of McCoy already having Spock under medical surveillance owing to his concerns that opened the episode, McCoy is earnestly trying to reach out across their differences to help Spock, and he is trying to meet Spock for who he is. This care shows in McCoy's face as you can see the anger of working with an uncooperative patient (and the living embodiment of his philosophical opposition, how McCoy and Spock act as Pathos (Feeling/Love) and Logos (Logic), respectively) leave him before reaching a hand out to Spock's arm.

"Examine me, for all the good it will do either of us."

Spock might as well say, "You can observe me all you want, translate me into numbers, charts, and readouts, but nothing will explain me. No amount of science will enable you to see what is truly me." Do you think Spock spent the past three days doing much of the same? That he tried to understand his changing body the way a scientist would examine a specimen they found, and found that none of it helped him? That no amount of science and knowledge can enable the full understanding of feeling, desire, need, hunger? (Hence why Spock and McCoy are as divided as they are. Strict logic of the kind that Spock adheres to is limited in understanding feelings and experiences owing to their subjectivity. No two people truly experience the same emotion in the same way, truly hold the exact same experiences, etc. Spock's logic operates from the assumption of objectivity and absolute truths, something that stretches back to Plato's Allegory of the Cave. One can laugh at this idea now, perhaps, in our postmodern if not meta-modern era which argues that everything even science is tied to the subjectivity of one's perception, but the belief in something Absolute, something that exists truly beyond one's perception and subjectivity is a powerful idea that has formed the basis of human thought and civilization. To overlook it now is to overlook the past that enabled you to exist right now, in this moment.)

The hand shaking! Again! Always the hands! Do you think if they had a larger budget, the production crew would've made the side of the medical table crumple slightly as Spock grabs at it, to show that he is losing more and more control?

[everythingloveandanimated]

On this episode of Musing on Murtagh I realized something... Murtagh's relationship with fate is "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished”. (WARNING!!! Heavy feels and Heartbreak below)

Chases away the Ra'zac to save Brom and Eragon. -> Eragon gets broken ribs, Brom gets a fatal knife between his ribs.

Saves Eragon and Arya from Gil'ead, accompanies them to the Varden -> Gets locked up. (which he considers pretty good. He's alive, has a furnished room, gets meals and reading brought to him on command, so 4/5 results)

Fights with Varden against the Kull Army -> Gets kidnapped and tormented on the way back to Uru'baen where the torment doesn't stop.

Swears fealty to Galbatorix to get his soldiers to stop torturing Thorn -> Thorn gets locked in a solitary cell and his torture continues for months

Spares Eragon's life at the Burning Plains -> He and Thorn get maliciously tortured for it

Tries to preserve Nasuada's life -> ordered to assist Galbatorix in torturing her

Helps Eragon defeat Galbatorix -> Nobody (sans King Orik?) is willing to take Eragon's or Nasuada's word that Murtagh is not an enemy

Tries to do right by Thorn by fleeing north to freedom -> Loses opportunity to plead their case in the court of public opinion

Rescues Silna ->Robs Glaedr's grave, injuries and betrays a guard he befriended (using that term loosely) and Thorn torches Gil'ead in a panic attack after saving Murtagh's life

Investigates the Dreamers to get information to report back, motivation to protect Nasuada's kingdom -> gets himself and his dragon captured, tortured, enslavement experience 2.0

And! As a bonus! FAMILY/ FAMILY-ESQUE RELATIONSHIPS

Selena does good by Eragon getting him to safety, then returns to Murtagh -> gets gravely ill and dies soon after

Tornac risking his life to help Murtagh get to freedom -> DIES just outside the city in front of Murtagh

Murtagh does all these life saving favors for Eragon -> Eragon skips off continent and is unavailable to help Murtagh clear his name

Holy Heck! And he STILL wants to honor the role of Dragon Rider by protecting the land and its denizens! (okay it's a little more focused than that. He wants to protect Nasuada and her realm, not the realms of Dwarves and Elves. They can take care of themselves; unless their goals overlap then he'll consider working with them.) BUT STILL!!!! HOW?!?!?! And the scary beautiful thing is there are deeply traumatized people WHO ARE LIKE THIS!!!! They will go out of their way to protect other people they deem worthy of their help!!!

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

After Iranian-financed-and-trained Hamas terrorists – together with Palestinian Authority and civilian Gazan terrorists – murdered, gang-raped, gouged, mutilated, dis-limbed, beheaded, burned and tortured over 1,200 Jewish Israeli babies, children, men and women (including dozens of Americans), wounded over 5,000 more and took another 250 more hostage on October 7th, President Biden correctly declared that Hamas’ atrocities were “pure, unadulterated evil.”

Yet now, the Biden/Blinken/shadow-Obama administration is deliberately siding with and defending pure, unadulterated evil. This is sinister. During Biden’s April 4, 2024 phone call with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Biden threatened Israel and demanded an immediate Israeli ceasefire, aligning the U.S. with Arab terrorist Hamas’ demands. (On the same day, Hamas launched a series of rockets into Israel’s civilian areas. So how on earth can Biden be demanding an Israeli ceasefire?) Biden threatened surely hostile-to-Israel policy changes if Israel doesn’t accede to U.S. demands.

If Israel succumbs to Biden’s immediate ceasefire demand, this would leave the remaining hostages subject to Hamas’ continuing rape and torture indefinitely; leave Israel with no negotiating leverage or military options for obtaining the hostages’ release; and would enable Hamas to emerge victorious, regroup, rebuild, and murder and torture Israelis again and again and again in the future, as Hamas leaders have promised. Biden’s demand thus calls for Israel to lose the war against Arab terrorist organization Hamas, a proxy of our arch enemy, the evil terrorist Islamic Republic of Iran. 

Moreover, on the same day, Secretary of State Antony Blinken falsely, sickeningly and outrageously suggested that Israel is at risk of becoming indistinguishable from Hamas if Israel loses its reverence for protecting every human life – but ignored Israel’s real, extraordinary efforts and record of protecting Gazan civilians. As Colonel Richard Kemp, former British Commander in Afghanistan explained, Israel has the world’s most moral army and takes risks to protect civilians that no other army in the world has ever taken – while Hamas’ official policy is committing war crimes. Similarly, the Chair of West Point’s Modern War Institute, Major (ret.) John Spencer, and human rights lawyer Arsen Ostrovsky noted that “accusing Israel of intentionally targeting civilians . . . is a malicious distortion of truth,” and that in fact “The IDF has gone to unprecedented lengths, not seen in the history of modern warfare, to abide by the laws of war and avoid harm to civilians, even when doing so puts the IDF’s own soldiers at risk.” Israel has the lowest ratio of civilian-to-combatant terrorist deaths in history.

From this U.S. administration’s outset, it has pursued policies deliberately designed to weaken, harm and endanger Israel and empower Iran and Iranian proxies bent on destroying Israel. Upon taking office, Biden immediately stopped enforcing maximum sanctions – and enabled Iran to advance from near-bankruptcy of $4 billion in reserves to $100 billion in reserves, rescuing Iran’s ability to fund its proxies Hamas’ and Hezbollah’s attacks on Israeli civilians and armed forces. Biden also immediately resumed funding UNRWA (which is full of Hamas terrorists, hides Hamas weapons and control centers, and teaches children to murder Jews); and resumed funding Palestinian Authority government functions (enabling the PA to continue its $400 million per year of pay-to-slay payments to Arab terrorists to murder Jews).

And virtually every person Biden appointed to an important post is hostile to Israel or Jews, or both.

In May 2021, when Hamas launched 4,500 rockets at Israel in 10 days, Biden demanded that Israel agree to an early ceasefire that enabled Hamas to regroup, rebuild and prepare for October 7th.

In October 2022, the administration pressured Israel to surrender 330 square miles of natural-gas-rich maritime territory to Hezbollah-controlled Lebanon, thereby enriching Iranian terror-proxy Hezbollah with billions of dollars, and weakening Israel. Hezbollah’s attacks on northern Israel in recent months have displaced some 80,000 Israelis.

Biden imposed a boycott on Israeli scientific and academic cooperation over the artificial “green line.” And the Biden administration initiated a Negev Forum that transformed the Abraham Accords from a Sunni-Israeli alliance against Iran into a Sunni-U.S. alliance against Israel. The entire basis of the Abraham Accords was to end the Palestinian Arab veto over Middle East peace; but Biden and Blinken reversed this.

During the past six months, the administration has intentionally ratcheted up harmful-to-Israel actions and anti-Israel propaganda. The administration released $26 billion to Iran – while Iran is financing Hamas’ and Hezbollah’s terror wars against Israel. The administration also repeatedly falsely accused Israel of not doing enough to protect Gazan civilians – despite Israel’s extraordinary record of protecting civilians while fighting vicious terrorists; demanded “pauses” and other forms of ceasefires; demanded that Israel cannot leave a buffer zone in Gaza to prevent future October 7ths; and tied legislation to aid Israel to unpopular unrelated legislation – which would prevent or hamper the aid to Israel from being enacted.

The administration also repeatedly betrayed Israel (and Israeli and American hostages) at the United Nations Security Council. On November 14, 2023 (the same day that 300,000 Jews demonstrated support for Israel in Washington, D.C.) the Biden administration enabled the passage of UNSC Resolution 2712 (2023) calling for days-long “urgent and extended humanitarian pauses and corridors throughout the Gaza Strip.” On December 22, 2023, the Biden administration enabled passage of UNSC Resolution 2720 (2023), which helped Hamas obtain supplies to continue its war crimes and called for urgent measures towards stopping the destruction of the Hamas terrorist evil. And on March 25, 2024, the administration enabled passage of UNSC Resolution 2728 (2024) calling for an immediate ceasefire – without making the ceasefire conditional on releasing the hostages.

The administration also used the occasion of Israel fighting for its life to repeatedly demand that Palestinian terrorists must be rewarded with a Palestinian Arab terror state; and to try to undermine Israel’s binding legal rights to Judea/Samaria and Jerusalem. In February 2024, the administration falsely declared that Jews building homes in Judea/Samaria is illegal (reversing the “Pompeo Doctrine” which confirmed that Jewish communities in Judea/Samaria are legal). And on February 1, 2024, Biden issued an antisemitic executive order, accompanied by a coordinated State Department announcement, imposing sanctions on Jews in Judea/Samaria, while ignoring rampant Arab terrorism in and stemming from Judea/Samaria, incited by the Palestinian Authority’s Nazi-like “pay-to-slay” rewards to terrorists to murder Jews.

Biden also falsely condemned Israel for “indiscriminate bombing” in Gaza and an “over the top campaign.” Such false charges are hardly the statements of a true friend and ally. And Biden/Blinken’s latest condemnation of Israel unintentionally killing members of a food convoy, when Biden/Blinken knows that these tragic mistakes happen in any war – including in America’s wars against Iraq and Afghanistan – again shows the U.S. attempting to weaken the U.S.-Israel alliance. 

In addition, Biden’s March 7, 2024 State of the Union address was the most hostile, anti-Israel SOTU address ever: Biden demanded a Palestinian state “solution” that imperils Israel’s very existence; overstated displaced Gazans and never mentioned the 200,000 Jews still displaced by Hezbollah’s bombardments in the north and Hamas’ destruction of southern Israeli communities; wrongly demanded that Israel must make protecting Gazan civilians Israel’s “first priority (not defeating Hamas and recovering the hostages); parroted Hamas’ unverified and surely false propaganda casualty numbers; falsely intimated that Israel is using humanitarian aid as a “bargaining chip” and isn’t “doing its part” – while completely ignoring that Hamas steals the massive humanitarian aid that Israel has facilitated into Gaza; spoke of working for an immediate ceasefire; and omitted Iran’s role in Gaza, Lebanon, and the October 7th massacre.

Unfortunately, the horrors listed above are only a partial list of the Biden/Blinken/Obama shadow administration’s deliberate acts to weaken Israel and strengthen the terrorists that are trying to destroy Israel. For instance, see more here, here and here.

It is deeply disturbing that our nation’s administration is intentionally siding with the forces of pure unadulterated evil against our human-rights-loving ally, the democratic Jewish State of Israel.

It is painful for us to say this, but all of the evidence indicates that the Biden/Blinken/Obama policies are not mere attempts at misguided appeasement, or the results of stupidity or ignorance or false hope. But, in fact, these anti-Israel policies are made with full understanding of their dangerous import. All the evidence indicates that this is a conscious attempt to weaken Israel, or worse.  

[bonefall]

the dogs in ASC being brighthearts nightmares would work really good if they go for a someone controls the dogs arc, like they’re much more violent bc they’re the reincarnation of the TPB dog pack and follow the orders of whoever wants power most and is willing to kill to get it

although going off that, the original dog pack being a manifestation of Tigerstars greed for power and bloodlust would be very cool

IF I happen to go with the Dogs of TBC and ASC being a Malicious Entity (still undecided!) then they'd definitely be manifestations of Brightheart's nightmares. I'd probably take the opportunity to talk a bit about Dark Forest nightmare fauna broadly.

In a nutshell though, DF Fauna are literally nightmares. They're created by the bad dreams of living cats, everything that they pray to StarClan to protect them against. They can range from "just weird" to "absolutely horrifying," and tend to gain more power based on Popularity (number of cats) x Emotions Inspired.

That emotion can be confusion, sadness, or even excitement, btw. It's not JUST fear.

StarClan has the ability to make dreams, and there are entire groups of spirits who just do that with their time! But not ALL dreams come from StarClan, and cats conjure up their own all the time. It's from those "natural" dreams that DF Fauna are spawned.

So, the first Dog Pack was very much a real dog pack that Tigerstar exploited. A lot of cats have recurring nightmares about them.

I'll still work on the logistics of HOW they're controlled though-- I want to keep the idea that they are very dangerous creatures that don't obey nicely. Not even to their current "master;" there's always the risk that the Nightmare Dogs turn on whoever sicc'd them, y'know?

But most of all, I gotta wait and see how ASC wraps up. The dogs might come back and we still don't know who exactly is commanding them, or how they unleashed them on Curlfeather.

[adropofhumanity]

THE PIER IS A MILITARY BASE. "Humanitarian aid Trucks meant for delivering humanitarian aid to a starving population were used to transport Israeli forces, who then fired upon a refugee camp killing 250 civilians and counting"- Hossam Shabat

When Biden announced plans to build Gaza a "humanitarian aid pier" in March, the PFLP immediately raised suspicions about their actual intent. "[The Zionist entity's] refusal to allow aid through official crossings and land routes confirms the existence of malicious objectives behind this pier." Their suspicions were correct.

Even though the UN reported that one million Palestinians are at risk of starving to death by mid-July, the pier, which cost $320,000,000 to build (the same dollar amount the US cut from funding UNRWA,) has not delivered any aid to Palestinians. On June 7th, after fixing the pier due to damages from "bad weather," the U.S. military's Central Command said that they could finally enable the delivery of much-needed humanitarian aid to Gaza."

Twenty-one hours later, the pier was central to abetting the worst massacre at Al-Nuseirat refugee camp. Hiding in humanitarian aid trucks, "Israeli" and (according to eyewitness reports) American soldiers shot and killed several people while bombs dropped on surrounding areas in an attempted "hostage-rescue operation." The "Israeli" and American soldiers killed 275 Palestinians and three hostages in under two hours.

The humanitarian aid pier was never about humanitarian aid but about ensuring that American boots could be on the ground in Gaza. Three weeks before the massacre, Bisan Owda emphasized that the pier is "a military base. It's not a seaport, it's not a temporary seaport, it's not a humanitarian seaport."

After the massacre, the UN World Food Program announced it was pausing their distribution of humanitarian aid due to safety concerns for their staff.

The U.S. is not complicit in the genocide but inextricably financially and militarily invested in it. If there was actually a serious concern for bringing in humanitarian aid they would have, like Bisan said, "opened the borders" and cut all military funding to the Zionist entity.

[sofiasfanartcollection]

and for a moment all was soft and quiet

(Close-ups and a thumbnail sketch and a process pic)

Wanted to sketch and paint something of what I imagine a pocket dimension Hypno can access through his hat and jacket looks like

This is where he keeps his rabbits and doves in my headcanon :]

Drew some New Zealand plants including: pōhutukawa trees, a kauri tree, and rārahu (ferns). There’s also bioluminescent mushrooms (not based on a specific species).

There’s stars reflected in the water but not in the sky. The water doesn’t always reflect what is visible. It can reflect the past or inner realities or illusions. Might want to play around with that idea if I draw this place again.

(Keep reading for some ramblings about Hypno’s powers)

some headcanons, mostly about Hypno's powers

-- Hypno can use his mystic powers to recreate any magic trick from his old routines. Basically anything he could do with magic tricks (that he still remembers how to do), he can now do for real and sometimes at a grander scale. (For example: he could make small animals and objects disappear into his hats, now he can make people and buildings disappear into his hats and they would end up in his pocket dimension.) He could also add more to his repertoire if he learns how to do the magic trick practically first.

Judging by what I’ve seen in the show and what he says he can do, Hypno can: summon doves, rabbits, razor rings, wands that turn into knives?, and cards; transform physical objects into flowers; make objects and people disappear into his hats; presumably saw people in half and put them back together again; hypnotize people to follow a command; and teleport (going to headcanon that it’s just for short distances though.)

--It would be fun to add: never-ending rainbow handkerchiefs and maybe coins from behind people’s ears, and some more card tricks like cards teleporting through things (also I really like Ollie’s idea that he uses cards as shields!) Maybe he can make people and objects float and predict what people write down or draw in a specific notebook too.

--The words he uses aren’t magic (except for when he had Houdini’s journals that is), they just help him focus and are a habit. Of course it’s for show too.

--The fashion montage illusion seems like something different than his usual powers. My headcanon is that it was the result of a spell he found instructions for (among mystic objects from the store Warren got that crystal from), and he created it using some water from the pocket dimension. However, after using the spell, and after the whole Battle Nexus New York happened, he returned to the pocket dimensions to find one of the islands (not one pictured above) was charred and damaged. He assumed that taking something from the pocket dimension to use in the spell had caused the destruction and decides to not try that again. He decides to stick with the abilities that come naturally to his mystic power. (I’m going with the idea that casting spells/manipulating magic comes with some kind of terrible cost or danger in the ROTTMNT universe. For example, Draxum’s spell taking them into Splinter’s mind was potentially dangerous.)

[I wanted to think about the limits to Hypno’s powers (since he really does seem to be potentially overpowered) so that's part of why I'm coming up with the headcanons that he has to know how to do the trick practically, and that he won't create a spell like the fashion montage illusion again (with him not wanting to risk damaging the pocket dimension again.) Of course, in the show what seems to keep him from being too overpowered and too much of a threat to the turtles is that he often gets his magic turned against him and isn't as malicious and focused as some of the other villains.]

Edit: (wanted to add another thought) I’m not sure who came up with this, but I’ve heard a theory that part of the reason why Mikey is so powerful with his mystic abilities is because he is open with his emotions. Mystic powers do seem to be connected to emotions in the show. What if that’s part of the reason Hypno is so powerful too? He does seem to be pretty open with his emotions (thinks back to when I was looking through screen shots to redraw, such a wide range of expressions: rage and terror and confusion and grief and guilt and joy etc. I mean what happened in Warren and Hypno Sitting in a Tree would be an emotional roller coaster for sure.)

[theslut4smut]

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 | 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻

𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗿𝘆: smut & fantasy

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.8k

𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀: afab reader, mermaids to humans, best friends to lovers trope, virgins, both of you are clueless yet horny, experimenting with touch and other sensations, nipple play, oral (both receiving), penetration, messy kisses.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: it’s giving little mermaid gone wild. no, seriously. this is the same exact plot and everything just… with sum sex.

and before you yell at me! they technically don’t speak

… is this allowed? 🫣

_____________________________________

father warned you about the dangers of the human world. they were malicious and vile up there. greedy, selfish and cruel.

but you couldn’t help but to be so in awe of all of it.

their trinkets and doo-dads, cheers and laughter, touches of affection, the way they walked on those… what are they called again?

you didn’t understand why father was so stubborn about it. he was so protective and controlling over you.

his strict rules made your curiosity even more intense. it’s like there were two sides of your brain fighting against each other.

one side wanted to obey father. he was much older and wiser, which meant he knew what he was talking about. and he was only so overbearing because of how much he loved and cared for you.

but the other side? it craved rebellion and adventure. it dared you to push the limits, swim a few feet closer to the surface, poke a finger or two out. just a little taste.

you loved collecting their lost items. they were like treasure. you didn’t understand how they operated, but that didn’t stop you from searching for new additions to your display everyday.

they were all so special and precious. you’d spend hours delicately caressing and admiring them as you hummed melodies to yourself.

you knew it was dangerous and that father would be upset, but that never stopped you before.

and that’s why you were here; standing before the evil sea queen herself, making a bargain.

that bargain, you may ask? your voice.

your voice that all of the seven seas knew and adored, that soothed any sad or aching heart, that filled the area with joy and peace.

and in exchange for what? a chance to be human.

you could only imagine how terribly upset father would be. the pain would be agonizing knowing that you could betray him in such a way.

but you needed this. you needed to be apart of the world you so desperately craved. you needed to feel the happiness your heart was long deprived of.

“sing!” she commands, sucking your angelic voice into the shell around her neck.

even if you wanted to go back, it was too late now.

you were terrified, but so desperate.

you look over to your best friend, jeongin. you can feel your heart ache as he experiences the same pain you’re going through.

he didn’t ask for this. he was always so, so good. always did what he was told to. made sacrifices to make everyone else happy.

you had met at such a young age and immediately grew close after discovering you both had a passion and talent for singing.

your parents loved to put the two of you together at gatherings and have you sing for all of your fellow merpeople and creatures.

and you loved him so dearly. as if he was your own brother. you could always count on him to be there for you and your shenanigans, fearfully following you into dangerous and abandoned places the ocean had deteriorated, reminding you of how upset your father will be and the risks of getting injured.

it must have drove him crazy the way you never listened, but he continued to watch out for you with a full and patient heart none the less.

when you told him of your plan to see the wicked sea queen, he begged for you not to. tugging at and pleading you not to go through with it. how she would find a way to make it unfair and cause harm to you.

as much as it broke you to see him so distraught, you couldn’t keep living this unfulfilling life. hoping and wondering what it could be like. feeling left out under the weight of the great sea.

so he jumped in too, sacrificing his all just so you wouldn’t have to be alone.

lights flash and bubbles whirl as you feel your body thrash around and change.

the sound of her despicable laugh fills your ears.

your eyes widen as your throat begins to close and you struggle to breathe. you swim upwards in a panic.

but moving around had never felt this hard before.

the pressure was unbearable as you fought your way to the top.

you start to become hazy, weak and fall behind before you feel jeongin grab onto you and pull you along with him.

the light shining down brings you peace and hope as you get closer and closer to your sweet escape.

the two of you break through the surface, coughing and panting as you both try and catch your breath.

you take this time to look around.

it was unbelievable.

a gorgeous sunny day, gentle waves crashing at the shore line, birds squawking as they roam the area.

you can see large boxes with translucent cutouts that the humans peered out of not so far out. that must be what they call their home.

the smell of something delicious causes you to inhale deeply through your nose as you imagine the different and interesting new type of cuisine you’d discover.

you turn back to jeongin, attempting to speak before smiling as you cover your mouth once realizing no words could come out.

he stares down into the water, a reminiscent look on his face.

you sigh as you move closer to him.

he raises both eyebrows and looks up once feeling your hands on either side of his face.

you smile warmly as you look into his eyes and place your forehead against his, hoping he can feel your appreciation even though you can’t verbally express it.

he gives you a soft smile as he grabs onto your wrists, relaxing into your touch as he exhales.

you stay like that for a moment before pointing to the shore and giving him an excited look.

he holds up a hand, signaling for you to wait a moment as he pulled himself up onto a rock poking out of the water.

you jump and widen your eyes as your gaze travels lower.

he no longer had his usual emerald green tail that curled and swayed behind him as he swam.

it was exchanged with a long and delicate looking replacement that was the same color as the rest of his skin. except for the top that was a blush pink.

you had never seen anything like it in your life.

and even though it was something entirely new to you, you felt excited as you admired it.

he furrows his brows as he looks down, letting out a gasp before covering himself.

you place your hand on top of his, shaking your head.

he gives you a questioning look.

you nod.

he hesitantly moves his hand, showing you the wet and soft organ.

you rub your lips together as you experience this intense feeling for the first time ever.

you touch it gently with the pads of your fingers, causing him to hiss.

you quickly look up to him in a panic. he lets out a shaky breath and nods his head, letting you know he’s okay.

you continue your movements, gently poking, caressing, and squeezing as you take it in.

the member in front of you becomes firm in your hand before standing taller, causing the two of you to gasp and widen your eyes.

you quickly let it go.

was this part of the queen’s plan? was it some sort of magic? how could it change so suddenly?

the two of you give each other nervous looks before you slowly reach your hand out again.

he lets out a deeper groan this time as your fingers brush against it. he jerks his hips upwards, causing the tip of the new phenomenon to gently slap against your lips.

you feel a jolt run throughout your body.

you wanted more.

you swallow deeply before grabbing it once more, this time wrapping your hand around the whole thing.

he bites his lip as he closes his eyes.

you take it into your mouth and shove it all the way in, choking before quickly pulling away.

he cries out as his entire body flinches.

you place your hand over your pounding chest as you try to catch your breath.

maybe you just needed to go slower.

he looks down at you with a shocked expression.

you smile up at him, feeling excited that you could make him feel so good.

it was the least you could do after all he’s done for you.

you lick your lips before grabbing onto the sensitive area and entering it into your mouth, making sure not to go too fast this time.

he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes tightly shut as you take him further and further down your throat, stopping before it got too uncomfortable again.

you stay still as you savor the full feeling in your mouth.

he whines softly as he wiggles his hips.

you furrow your brows. was it not satisfying enough for him?

he bucks his hips up, causing you to cough.

now you understood.

you begin to slowly move your head up and down, feeling the tip of it brushing against every inch of your throat. you try your best to suppress any upcoming gags.

the touch of your hand to his thigh causes goosebumps to decorate its surface.

you become more used to and comfortable with the new and vulnerable feeling, picking up the pace.

he sucks in a sharp breath.

you feel your own saliva pooling in your mouth as you embrace the somewhat painful chokes and gags his member causes as you proceed with the bobbing movement of your head.

moans of yours vibrate off of his shaft as you feel a deep and tingly feeling in the pit of your core.

you had never experienced anything like this before.

jeongin pants quickly as he begins to squirm and twitch, grabbing onto your hand that was still gently placed upon his wet skin.

you feel his member throb in your mouth.

a warm and white liquidy substance spills from the corner of your lips as he groans loudly, shaking intensely as you continue.

you pull away with a loud pop before spitting into the water.

the two of you look at one another with wide eyes and smiles as you stare down at the sticky and runny mess jeongin had made.

he closes his eyes as slowly exhales.

you admire his face as it softens into a relaxed look.

he was so handsome like this. the bright sun shining down on him, placing a golden hue upon his pale skin. his blonde hair that had now dried and begun to frizz out slightly, making him look so precious.

he looks down at you, tilting his head to the side as he furrows his brows.

you do the same, looking down.

two full and round balls lay placed upon your chest, smaller and darker buds in the center of them.

you gasp softly as you look up to jeongin, noticing that he didn’t have them. his chest was flat and firm.

he rubs his lips together before biting them as his eyes stay fixated on the sight in front of him.

he gives you a hesitant look.

you smile bashfully before nodding.

he slowly reaches out to the mounds on your chest, squeezing lightly into the flesh.

you moan, throwing your head back as you grab onto his arm.

he kneads the skin for a few moments longer before moving towards the hard and erect nubs.

you let out a choked cry as he rubs them in between his fingers.

waves of electricity flow throughout your body as you gasp and moan.

breathing felt like an almost impossible task.

in the midst of your pleasure, you feel his hands grab onto your arms, causing you to give him a questioning look.

he pulls you up, a slight gasp slipping past your lips as he places you onto his lap, immediately attaching his mouth to your tingling chest.

you moan and wrap your arms around his neck, pushing him further into you.

he goes back and forth from each breast, squeezing and fondling whichever one he isn’t sucking.

he reaches down, attempting to please you the way you did him, halting his fixation on your bosoms once realizing something was different.

you give him a confused look as he pulls away.

he chews on the inside of his cheek as he tries to understand what he’s looking at.

before you could explore and examine the area yourself, he switches your positions, laying you on your back as he dips back into the water.

he spreads your legs, eyes widening at his discovery.

a wet and dripping hole with swollen and puffy lips surrounding it.

he lets out a shaky breath, immediately licking a stripe up your slit.

you let out a squeak as you look down, not expecting it at all. you try to see what he’s seeing.

he begins to ravish you with his tongue, an instinctual feeling coming over him as he laps up your juices that squirt out onto his face.

you thrash around as you tug at his hair and whine out desperately.

this was an entirely new feeling and experience for you.

you had never felt such a strong physical reaction before. the involuntary twitches and shakes overwhelming you as you took the unknown sensation in.

he stops and stares at your heat with intrigue before looking up at you.

you sit up slightly, tilting your head to the side in a questioning way.

he gives you a small smile that lets you know he’s had an idea.

he pulls himself back onto the rock, picking you up and resuming your previous position on top of him.

the two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, the reality of what was happening finally setting in.

it was something completely taboo to the both of you, but it was obvious how much you were enjoying it.

he bites his lip nervously before looking down at your opposite sexes.

he wraps an arm around your torso, lifting you up before taking his member and lining it up at your entrance.

before you can give him another confused look, he pushes in, causing you to gasp as you dig your nails into his shoulders.

his mouth gapes open as he places a firm grip on your hips.

as if your body knew what it was supposed to be doing, you lift yourself up before slamming back down onto him.

he moans as he throws his head back.

you quickly bounce on his hard dick, feeling as if the wind was being knocked out of you every time it hit that gummy spot inside of you.

hot tears race down your cheeks as you continue to ride him.

you tilt his head upwards to face you, looking into his eyes as you cry.

he places one hand on the side of your face and the other on your waist. he caresses your skin reassuringly.

you let out a high pitched squeal as feel your tummy begin to form a tight ball.

this causes you to move yourself up and down faster, making him moan even louder.

you once again can feel the twitch and movement of him inside of you just like when he was in your mouth.

he begins to buck up into you, digging into the soft flesh of your ass and surely leaving marks.

the ball in the pit of your stomach snaps, causing you to scream as you begin to spasm on dick.

he gasps before releasing as well, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his vision goes in and out.

you slow your movements once your high passes.

you blink a few times as you try to take in everything, chest rising quickly.

jeongin looks up to you, smiling bashfully.

you do the same.

he removes himself from your shoulder, sitting up straight as his eyes melt into yours.

you become shy and break the eye contact.

he redirects your gaze back onto him, slowly leaning in to capture your lips with his own.

it was messy and full of teeth and spit, but it made you happy.

happy to know that you could experience something so magical and powerful together.

so intense.

you smile at him before pulling him into an embrace.

maybe the love you had for jeongin wasn’t so much like one for a brother or someone dear. it was clear he meant so much more to you.

you couldn’t imagine being without him. he would always be your guidance and peace. comfort and reassurance.

and little did you know, he had always felt the exact same way about you.

the two of you slowly regulate your breathing as you hold onto each other, staring out into the beautiful distance, the sun setting and casting a gorgeous orangey pink tint to the world around you, sending you into a deep and love filled sleep.

[the-forests-blessing]

Chapter 1

I’ve always loved the stories where the hero gets the true happy ending they deserve.

     To fight so bravely, putting their own life at risk for the sake of others! 

     And to come out on top each time. No villain could ever surpass the heart of a true hero!  

     A postcard is gripped by a pale hand. The white edge is gently caressed by a thumb to allow the viewer full view of the picture on the front. Depicted on this postcard is a town. A town full of stunning colors and creative strength, along with builds of all shapes and sizes. The picture shows many vibrant buildings and shops, with people who wear smiles depicting true peace and prosperity walking on the lively streets paved in stone brick. In the middle of the picture is an iconic monument. A structure that acts as not only a fountain to flip coins and make a wish, but the very foundation of what makes this town so world renowned. Glowing beacons cast brilliant pillars of light up into the sky. “BeaconTown,” the post card says in a flashy, eye-catching font. 

      This is the town that holds the heroes of legend. 

     The heroes who found their happy ending and wanted to share all their efforts amongst the world around them. 

     Heroes who fought with all their might against numerous threats. From the ungodly man made entity of horrors, the Witherstorm! Piercing the command block with a mighty final blow. The hero of Order, shattering its influence on the monster with a diamond edged sword. Then there was the sentient supercomputer, PAMA. A complex build of redstone brilliance, turned evil with the intention of making everything and everyone, “useful”, under its own bidding. Going so far as to plan to work its malicious programming into our world and corrupt our people. Not to mention the three Old Builder’s who held an entire town of people hostage, forcing those poor souls to fight against each other solely for the Builder’s entertainment. How vile…

      I’ve been waiting years for this moment. 

     The man tucks his postcard away and grips the handles of his bike tighter. He pedals up a hill full of long grass, his heart racing with exhilaration knowing he’s getting closer and closer. The dirt path he follows ascends a small hill. With a backdrop of cloudy blue skies and a sea of flowing grass, he’s almost to the top. He can’t help the excited smile that forms on his face. 

     Something finally comes into view. Something, he realizes as he gets further up the hill, that is most definitely out of place for the BeaconTown he’s been looking forward to. His pedaling feet begin to slow… Confusion stirring something within his rapidly beating heart. His bike comes to a skirting stop once he reaches the top. He holds up his postcard once again. A face of rising confusion washes away all the excitement that brought him up this hill. In front of him is the town of heroes. He can tell from the numerous pillars lighting up the sky in the far distance. There is, however, a massive structure that doesn’t show up at all in the postcard he holds. He compares the picture to the real thing in front of him, holding the photograph against the city skyline. His blond brows furrow, looking back and forth between the two before he’s stuffing the postcard back into his inventory. 

      Odd. Nobody mentioned anything about a massive floating tower right smack in the middle of town. He merely shrugs it off. While it is surprising to see, it is pretty extraordinary to witness. He’s never seen a structure as huge as this in all his years of traveling. It’s almost hard to believe it was built by humans. It’s nearly impossible to look at anything else the town has to offer from this distance with that huge build standing- no, floating in the middle of it.  

      I thought the beacons were going to be the focal point to this town. Not this ridiculous looking tower. 

     It is extremely impressive, he’ll admit, although he can’t help but feel like it’s too grand in comparison to everything else. 

      Maybe it’s the heroes tower. Made to look intimidating so trouble makers and villains know what they’re up against the moment they come into the town’s territory. 

     “Well… You ready for this, Dewey?” His voice, smooth like silk, rousing a slumbering ocelot from his rest within the bicycles front basket. The jungle cat merely lifts his head, giving it a shake while he blinks the sleep out of his eyes. The man chuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He says, reaching down to scratch behind those white polka-dot ears. He draws his eyes up to look back at BeaconTown. 

      It’s finally happening. 

     “Oookay Lukas, let’s do this.” He gives himself a small motivational boost, taking a deep breath as he adjusts his footing, pushing his feet against the pedals once again and accelerates forward. He bikes down the hill, riding through the grassy plains towards town. The wind against his face feels entirely new. Fresh, just as this new beginning is. 

      I wonder what kind of people I’ll meet. I’ve heard people from all over the world have moved here to start their new life in BeaconTown. 

      As he gets closer, he begins to take more notice of the biomes surrounding the famous town. One of the neighboring biomes looks to be an oak forest. A very common biome that Lukas has been to many times, spending countless hours studying the specks of dirt beneath his feet to the highest shivering leaf on the tallest tree. While he’ll never turn down the idea of checking out another familiar biome, it's the biome on the opposite side of town that is particularly eye-catching. 

     Very tall evergreen trees point towards the sky. The tree line is dark and compelling compared to the much more welcoming looking oak forest that neighbors it. He gazes upon the coniferous woodland as he bikes down the dirt path, getting closer and closer to BeaconTown. Those woods look very expansive , Lukas finding the inability to see where it starts or where it ends. The bigger the biome, the better. 

      Gotta make note to begin my studies as soon as possible. A biome that big could take months to fully map out, and there’s no telling what kinds of animals have made their home there. Oh jeez, and the fungi? A coniferous forest like this must get a lot of rain and retain a ton of that moisture. There’s no telling how many species of plants live there.

     Lukas returns his gaze to the road ahead. The mouth of the gate coming more and more into view. Excitement surges him forward, pedaling faster, getting closer! In just a few more seconds he’ll be passing right through-!

     “Stop right there!” 

     Lukas slams on the breaks, skirting his bike to a sudden stop. 

     He’s just been stopped by… Guards? Lukas’ thrill of the moment immediately falls away, replaced by complete confusion. Two guards stand before him, both blocking his entry to town. Their iron armor glints under the sun and their helmets cover most of their facial features, making their faces much harder to memorize. Lukas nervously gets off his bike, and just by doing so, the two guards reach to the scabbards at their hips. Lukas falters, gripping his bike and backing away just a bit. 

     “What business do you have here?” The guard to Lukas’ left questions. 

     Lukas’ confusion only strengthens. He tilts his head slightly, attempting to keep his eyes averted from the guard’s weapons. “This… is BeaconTown, right?” He asks. 

     The iron clad guard scoffs. “Sure is. Now, I repeat, what business do you have here?” 

     Lukas meets the man’s discourtesy with a scrutinizing glare. “I hardly see how that is any of your concern, but if you must know, I’m a traveling author. I’m currently working on extensive biome research and your town is on my list of destinations to explore.”

     The guard laughs mockingly. “Author?”  

      “Explore?” The other guard simply laughs. 

      Lukas flicks his eyes between the two men, a prickle of annoyance befalling him. What’s these guys’ problem? What’s so funny?

      The guard to his left sneers. “Whatever. Try not to get in anyone's way or we’ll be sending you on your way.” 

     The guards yield and return to their stations on either side of the gate. Lukas is absolutely baffled by such a ludicrous welcome party. For a town famous for its kindness and generosity, the people keeping it protected are surely doing it no favors. Lukas clutches his bike's handles and moves quickly, making his way through the gate but not without offering one last disappointed glance at the man that spoke with such poison in his tone. 

      Weirdos. Lukas turns away. 

     He soon finds himself walking along a cracked, stone brick path of BeaconTown’s main street. The ground here is rough and bumpy, too dangerous to ride his bike along. It must have been a long time since the street has been refurbished, because the pavement’s current appearance is drawing Lukas to make critical comparisons to the ruined temples deep within the jungles he’s few times been lucky enough to come across. Although, the more he looks around, the more he finds that the street is not the only thing that is in the need of immediate repair.

     The builds here all seem so… lifeless. Lukas reaches into his coat pocket, holding up the picture he brought along. The postcard depicts vibrant colors from bright greens and blues to warm pinks and reds. So many cool structures you’d never see anywhere else that showcase the true lengths of the creative freedom BeaconTown offers! But here… There seems to be none of that… All that colorful wool long burnt to the ground. There looks to be old run down shops, fallen victim to wear and tear over the years, closed for good with no intentions of re-opening. With the graffiti splattered over the wooden panels and brick walls of the broken structures, one would be in the right to consider just destroying the whole building rather than attempting to save it by remodeling. There’s boarded up windows. Some windows just straight up missing glass! 

      Did griefers raid this place!? 

     Lukas turns away from the abandoned shops. He keeps his eyes averted from the people who do wander the crumbling streets. People turn their heads as he walks, glaring daggers as sharp as the ones they wield on their hips. Lukas finds himself tense with discomfort. Keeping his eyes glued to the ground, he attempts to mind his business, wanting to avoid any sort of confrontation. 

      Where are the smiles? The joy? 

     He walks by a group gathered together at what looks to be a coffee shop, one that could use a big makeover. In his peripheral vision, he can count at least four heavily armed strangers with swords at their hips and baskets of arrows snug against their backs sitting in chairs at the establishment. To keep your weapons shown off in such a way? These people want to make themselves look dangerous. Anyone else in their right mind would keep their weapons and tools hidden within their inventories. Lukas feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, uneasy as he walks by the group. He stays blissfully unaware of not so friendly looks he receives as he passes. 

     While he isn’t sure where to start when it comes down to research, he does know his first task is finding the place that will house him for the next couple months. 

     Do I really want to stay somewhere like this for that long? He wonders. I’ve never experienced such an unpleasant welcome. …Maybe I just entered the bad side of town.

     He’ll stick to that assumption for now. 

     What does catch his eye as he travels deeper into the heart of the town is the structure that gave the city its name. The beacon monument! Lukas’ eyes brighten at the sight of the tall pillars of light. Colored light pierce through the clouds and shoot to the Aether. Lukas lays a hand over his forehead to avoid the sun obscuring his view of the incredible sight. The colors disappear as they exit the Earth’s atmosphere. He wonders how far they truly go? Something to look into while he’s here. He lowers his attention down to the monument itself. Amazingly, compared to the rest of the town, the structure stays in good condition. It doesn’t seem to be crumbling like the world around it. It sits here in the middle of town square, its surrounding radius filled with shops, homes, and down the darker alleys, possible secrets. 

     Just beyond the town square is a large, pearly white building. It looks important, the way it stands beneath that massive structure that engulfs the sky above it. If Lukas had to make a guess, he’s confident he may have just found the main headquarters for those who run this town. He’s by no means a builder, but part of him can’t help but feel like this big tower thing in the sky kind of sticks out like a sore thumb. It’s ugly. Lukas shakes his head, dismissing the two builds and turns away, veering off on a new path. 

     As amazing a sight the beacons truly are, he re-adjusts his satchel higher and grips his bike handle tighter. He’s got to keep moving. He passes by the monument and starts walking a new path towards his left. He takes a nice long look at a very… interesting build. A small tower structure, one that reminds Lukas of those dangerous pillager outposts he’s witnessed in his travels, except this one is complimented with the addition of lava oozing down its sides, gathering into a safe- ish pool at the base. Who the heck leaves lava out in the open like that!? Even if it is controlled, some delirious fool could still walk themselves right into one of the lava streams fountaining from off the top. 

     Another conflicted look twists the blond’s features. Some people sure do get creative with their building projects. Lukas can’t say he’s well versed enough to judge though, since he has little to no building experience. He decides to continue forth. Passing more builds that seem to be a little more lively. He’s observing more townsfolk who seem like ordinary people with no hidden motives walking around. That, and– Oh! Lukas’ eyes land on a rather tall building a short distance away. The building is white with many windows. It looks to be at least six floors. A hotel maybe? Lukas glances around, staying aware of his surroundings before pressing forth in the direction of the building. The closer he gets, the more disheartened he becomes.

     A hospital. He gathers, looking at the sign. 

     He clicks his tongue in thought, running a hand through his short blond hair and taking another look around.

     “You lost or somethin’?” 

     A rather rough voice speaks beside him. The blond nearly jolts out of his skin in surprise. 

     “Oh! Whoa, did not see you there.” Lukas smiles awkwardly. “Uh. Not lost exactly? More like unaware of where I should be going. I’m looking fo-”

     “So you’re lost.” 

     “...Yeah.” Lukas says flatly. 

     The man in front of him looks old and tired. He holds a cane to keep himself supported. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.” The old man eyes him inspectingly. “What brings you to a place like this?”

     “Oh! Well, uh-” Lukas brightens up at the idea of conversation. It’s been a long while since he’s actually spoken to another human being who wasn’t outrageously rude. “Well you see, I’m actually a travelling-”

     “Salesman?”

     “...What? No. I’m an author. I’m traveling the world to collect data on the many biomes our wonderful Earth has to offer, as well as the diverse cultures that is unique to ever-”

     “Yeah, yeah.” The man gives him a dismissive wave. “Look, I get it. You’re one of them book nerds. Library is that way, son.” The man points Lukas off down a different road. “If that’s what 'yer lookin’ for, have at it.”

     “Well– I… I mean that is helpful, but I was actually looking for a place I could rent? Like a hotel perhaps?” Lukas gives him a hopeful, yet uncertain look. 

     “Hmm.” The old fellow hums. “You’re lookin’ for BeacInn then. That’s down that same road. A little further ways away from the library. Lucky you.” The old man emits a gruff chuckle, taking a puff of his pipe. 

     Lukas wrinkles his nose at the awful smell, turning away before it gets overwhelming. “Oh awesome. Thank you, sir. I appreciate your kindness.” Lukas offers him a quick smile, then turns away and immediately drops it. That gentleman was helpful, but awfully impolite. He interrupted him twice! That’s completely asinine. Lukas lightly shakes his head. What’s with this town and harboring such rude people? I thought this was supposed to be the friendly capital of the world. Lukas sighs, picking up his pace. 

     “You okay in there, Dewey?” Lukas lifts the little blanket that sits atop his bike basket. A little black nose peeks out, then emerges two emerald green eyes. The ocelot trills lightly in response. “Good. I’m not impressed with the people I’ve spoken to so far. You stay hidden okay?” His pale hand reaches, grasping the checkered blanket and tucking it softly back over the ocelot’s head, hiding him. “Don’t want to risk gaining the attention of exotic animal traders if there are any. They’d have a hay-day with you.” 

     A mumbled mewl sounds from beneath the blanket. Lukas gives his ocelot a reassuring pat before focusing himself back on the road ahead. 

     This time he makes sure to gain no more attention from any of the town goers. He did pass the library that the old man had mentioned. To Lukas’ surprise and delight, the place by no means looks at all run down as the rest of the town. He stops momentarily to gaze upon the building's greatness. Someone with high respect towards architecture built this no doubt. The structure is built with quartz, andesite, and diorite. It looks pristine in comparison to the lack-luster builds barely standing beside it. Someone must be maintaining its beauty. 

     That means someone here in this town must have a deep respect for the art of literature just as he does. Lukas smiles up at the library, feeling a glimmer of hope brighten his spirits. “Awesome! I’ll definitely be visiting here tomorrow.” Lukas turns himself and his bike away, continuing down the street. “Maybe there will be some history books in there. Something that can give me a bit of insight on what the heck happened to this place.” 

     For now though, Lukas finds himself wandering up to a new building. A tall building. The bricks look in decent condition to Lukas’ further surprise. In fact, he looks around and notices a few of the buildings here look a bit more welcoming than what the mainstreet had to offer. There’s a couple of food stands propped up. He can smell something tasty wafting through the air, making his mouth water. It has been a while since he ate too. Lukas turns his head back up to the brick building. A sign with a bed on it tells him all he needs to know. Food later. He needs to settle down with his belongings before he goes and begins exploring the restaurants here in town. 

     A bell chimes above him as he opens the door. What greets Lukas on the other side is a neat and tidy entryway. A couple blocks in front of him is the front desk, while to the right of him is what looks to be a lounge area fitted with a cozy fireplace and atmosphere. Between the front desk and the waiting area is the hallway that Lukas can only assume will take him down to his room.

     “Hi, welcome in!”

     Lukas refocuses his attention on a lady standing behind the front desk. She has a smile on her face at the very least. Probably the first friendly looking person he’s encountered since he entered town. Lukas looks around carefully before making his approach to the counter. “Uh. Hi there, hope it’s okay to bring my bike in with me.” 

     “Oh yeah it’s no problem. Were you looking to stay?” She says with a cheerful tone.

     Lukas allows the tension in his limbs to subside. Finally, Someone he can maybe have a decent conversation with. “Yes please.”

     “Wonderful! So you’ll be staying here tonight untiiiil?” She holds up a quill and notepad.

     “Oh, well I’ll be staying here for about three months, if that isn’t too much to ask?”

     “Holy cow. Three months? ” She raises her brows in disbelief. 

     “Yeah! I’m here on business, I guess you could call it. I’m an author, traveling the world doing biome studies.”

     “Wowza. That sure sounds exciting. You’re the first person I’ve ever seen who actually wants to stay here that long.”  

     Lukas’ expression turns worrisome. “Why do you say that?”

     The girl scoffs as she writes. “Have you seen BeaconTown? If I were you I’d get the info you need and skedaddle.” 

     Lukas tilts his head to the left, his ocelot-like curiosity piquing. “I thought this place was famous for its friendliness. Was that all just… Some outlandish hoax?” 

     “Name please.”

     “Oh sorry, it’s Lukas.”

     She jots down a few more notes on her notepad before setting it down with a sigh. “It used to be. That’s actually the reason I came here too. I saved up for years to move to the safe haven, BeaconTown . It was my dream. When I got here though…” She shook her head. “I couldn’t tell you what happened. All I know is that the mayor stopped caring a long time ago about what goes on around here. She doesn’t bother kicking out all the griefers and thieves that have shown up over the past couple years. It’s turned into a really bad town.” The woman's voice dips somberly. “Now I’m just trying to make enough to get out of here.”

     “Jeez.” Lukas runs a hand over his arm, unsure of what to say. “So there’s a real mystery at hand, huh?”

     “I suppose you could call it that. If you talk to the right people, it won’t be a mystery at all. I’d be extremely careful who you speak to though. Some people here don’t take kindly to outsiders, especially those of your stature.”

     “My stature?”

     “Rich?” She raises a brow.

     “...Oh. I mean, not really. I make enough to get by.”

     “And to book a hotel room for three months?”

     Lukas shrugs sheepishly. 

     The woman just sighs. “Nah I get it. It’s not safe to discuss that sort of thing here. It was rude of me to ask, so I apologize.” She shuffles around behind the desk, grabbing a room key and handing it off to the novelist. Lukas takes it with a nod and quiet ‘thanks’. “Enjoy your stay, sir.” 

     “Uh, thank you.” Lukas looks down for a name tag but sees none. Instead of attempting more conversation, he decides to work his way down the hall. No name tag? Is everyone here hiding something? Lukas sighs. Well, at least he gained some information from the small talk he had with the front desk lady. The mayor isn’t doing anything about the chaos? How long has that been going on? He can’t help but wonder. 

      Room 510. Lukas gives one good look at the elevator and decides against it. He’s not ready to commit that amount of trust to this place. Getting the bike up numerous flights of stairs was a struggle in itself. Thankfully the girl seemed to have no issue with him bringing it inside, because he can’t imagine what would happen with it if he left it outside. Lukas has never sworn under his breath so many times in such a small time span. When he finally gets up to the fifth floor, he sets the bike down with a huff. A little face pokes its head out from beneath the blanket, Dewey emitting his own annoyed growl with all the commotion. “Sorry buddy, I decided to take the scenic route.” Dewey just stuffs his head back beneath the blanket and sighs. 

     Finding his room number, he taps the key card against the redstone sensor and unlocks the door. Walking in, he’s greeted with another cozy atmosphere, similar to the one down in the lounge. The room is spacious with three nice big windows to gaze upon the forest bordering town through. Lukas walks in further, relieved to see a desk and chair, all in good condition, as well as a bed which is neatly made with nightstands at each side. To his left beside the door is the bathroom with all the essentials. All in all, much better than he was expecting. Lukas props his bike up against the wall beside the entryway and allows the door to shut behind him. “Okay. Coast is clear, Dewey. Come on out.” 

     The blanket quickly ascends with an arch. Dewey stretches his back finally, then shakes the blanket off and hops out of the basket. He settles on the floor, giving his paw a few licks before standing to begin his patrol of the room. “Hopefully it’s to your liking. I’ll get your stuff set up in the bathroom while you check things out.”

     Well, at least the hotel is nice. He considers himself lucky on that part, knowing it could be considerably worse due to the rest of the town's current state. He has to wonder though, what’s keeping this small part of the town in better condition than the rest of it? He’s only just arrived and already finds many mysteries keeping his brain captivated and awake. As evening comes, the light of the setting sun filters in through the window, bathing the room in soothing orange light. Lukas currently lay on the bed in his midnight blue pajamas, Dewey lay curled at his side. 

     After settling down, he traveled back out of the hotel to partake in some of the dining BeaconTown had to offer. The food was… okay. He ordered some chicken skewers from one of the vendor stands and got a cod stick for Dewey. No one seemed in the mood for chit-chat, although Lukas can hardly blame them anymore. He’d attempted small talk with the woman working the stall, but she just flashed him an odd look and kept to herself. Talk about awkward.  From the vibes he’s catching here in BeaconTown, it's better to hold your tongue and keep to yourself.

     Lukas stares up at the ceiling, plotting his next move. Tomorrow, he definitely wants to look into what’s going on at the library. There has to be something there that will give him some insight on what’s going on. However… The blond turns to his side, looking out towards the windows, watching the pillowy clouds in the far off distance drift slowly over the orangish-yellow sky. He is here for biome work. Maybe he should just stick to that instead? And keep his nose out of the town’s business. It’s not like he intends to settle down here. Maybe if it had lived up to his original expectations, he’d finally have a place to look forward to calling home.

     Now he’s not so sure. 

     Lukas sighs heavily and sits up, waking Dewey out of his sleep. He sits at the edge of the bed, debating for a few seconds before promptly getting up and approaching one of the windows. He lays his hand on the window sill and looks out, gazing upon the tree line. If there’s anything keeping him in high spirits, it’s the biomes surrounding this lousy town. He can see the mountains peeking from behind the dark tree line. A very far off mountain range that only amplifies his passion for adventure. He’s anxious to get out there and see what the surrounding biomes have to offer. He knows of the grasslands, as they are what he traversed through to get here in the first place. The small oak forest on the opposite side of town certainly appeals to him, although he’s already collected significant data on oak forests and what they offer in regards to flora, and habitat for animals and humans. 

     This though… 

     Lukas stares upon the darkening trees. Tall conifers point to the Aether with their angular tops. A coniferous forest is something Lukas is lacking severely on when it comes to data. He wonders what secrets the forest hides. For every biome he’s entered, he’s always found something that exceeded his expectations. Why, he’s got over four hundred pages to prove it. 

      Just this biome and two more. Then it will be ready for the final draft. Lukas smiles, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath.

     After another minute lingering at the window, Lukas returns to the bed and this time, pulls up the covers to snuggle in. He leans over, giving Dewey a few affectionate pets on the head before settling back down into the pillows with a long sigh of relief. 

      I must keep myself focused on my work. Whatever problems BeaconTown has aren’t for me.

[and-justice-for-zoisite]

𝒞𝑜𝓈𝓂𝒾𝒸 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 - Part 3 (Fujin x Tsung! Reader)

Official Masterlist

Summary: After her last fight with her father, (Y/n) has been plagued with paranoia that something else bad will happen. This would prove right, as, like what happened with Kitana and Mileena, his father had an ulterior motive to replace her.

Word Count: 6.5K Words

-

"You dare return to me without (Y/n)?!?!"

Shang Tsung had been reluctant to return to Shao Kahn at all, given he couldn't carry out his exact orders of bringing his own daughter back to Outworld. Though, he wouldn't have returned at all had he not had an alternative to offer the emperor.

"You are a disgrace sorcerer!! I'll have you executed-"

"With all due respect, emperor," Shang Tsung cut the angry man off, holding a halting hand up in front of himself, "I did not return empty handed."

Intrigued, Shao Kahn allowed himself to calm down, as he waited patiently for Shang to continue.

"While I was not able to obtain (Y/n), I was able to create something...much more powerful."

Shang Tsung turned to his side, as though he was signalling for someone to come forward.

From the shadows, emerged someone. They didn't just walk out of the shadows, it seemed that they were a part of the shadows - like they wielded them. They made themself known, their figure and face reminiscent of (Y/n) though their skin was much paler, and was covered in ancient symbols.

They approached Shang Tsung, and he placed a hand on their shoulder, once again turning toward Shao Kahn with an evil smirk plastered to his lips.

"Emperor, this is my daughter," he introduced her. "Her name is Kexin Tsung."

The lady bowed in his presence, graceful and delicate, though anyone could sense the malicious intent which emanated off of her.

Shao Kahn's eyes narrowed as he observed the figure before him. There was an unsettling aura that surrounded Kexin Tsung, a sense of darkness and power that both intrigued and disturbed the emperor.

"Interesting," Shao Kahn mused, his voice laced with curiosity. "So, this is your creation, Shang Tsung? A twisted reflection of your daughter?"

Shang Tsung nodded, revelling in the attention he garnered from the emperor.

"Indeed, Emperor. Kexin possesses great potential, far surpassing that of her original counterpart. She is a vessel of dark magic and ancient knowledge, moulded to serve your ambitions. She has been spliced with that of an Oni."

Kexin remained silent, her gaze fixed upon Shao Kahn. Her eyes, a haunting shade of crimson, bore into his soul, as if she could see through his façade and into the depths of his darkest desires. She exuded an air of both obedience and dangerous independence, making her intentions difficult to discern.

Shao Kahn contemplated their proposition, weighing the potential benefits and risks of accepting Kexin into his ranks. The allure of possessing such a powerful and malleable force was enticing, yet he could not shake off the underlying unease that gripped him.

Though, given how successful of a creation his own daughter, Mileena had been, he felt less reluctant to turn this away.

"Very well, Shang Tsung," Shao Kahn finally spoke, his deep voice resonating throughout the chamber. "If this creation of yours possesses even a fraction of the power you claim, then she shall be welcomed into my ranks. Serve me faithfully, Kexin Tsung, and you shall be rewarded."

Kexin's lips curled into a sly smile, revealing a glimmer of satisfaction.

"I am yours to command, Emperor," Kexin responded, her voice carrying a chilling confidence. "I shall prove my loyalty and fulfil your desires."

Shao Kahn felt his own sense of satisfaction wash over him, and he allowed a flicker of a smirk come to his lips before a more pressing matter made itself evident in his mind.

"(Y/n) is still out there, and now that she has allied with our enemies, she poses a great threat to my throne," he began, taking a seat back on the throne he spoke of. "You wish to prove your loyalty to me?"

"Bring me her head."

-

Ever since her encounter with her father and his allies, (Y/n) had been on edge constantly. There wasn't a moment where she felt at peace any more, not a moment where she didn't let her guard down, even if only to eat or sleep.

Something told her that that wouldn't be the last time she saw him, as much as it seemed like that - and as much as she hoped that was the case. But she couldn't help but think on her very last moment with him, when he brushed past her hair.

It was such a nothing movement, yet...something within her told her that that moment alone would be the catalyst for something much bigger.

This was what had brought her back around to punching trees again, like she had before the tournament, before she even met Fujin. It was strangely comforting to her, to punch a tree until her hands were bleeding, until she was too tired to keep going. Even if it was a physically self-destructive training method, she would still do it - she didn't know what else to do.

The physical pain she inflicted upon herself seemed insignificant compared to the emotional turmoil she carried. It was a way to ground herself, to feel something tangible amidst the chaos that threatened to consume her. The repetitive motion and the throbbing ache in her hands provided a temporary distraction from the weight of her father's actions and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

But even as (Y/n) unleashed her fury on the innocent trees, her mind couldn't escape the memories of her last encounter with her father. The way he brushed past her hair, a seemingly inconsequential gesture, now echoed with hidden meaning. It was a puzzle piece she couldn't quite fit into the larger picture, yet she knew it held significance.

She paused for a moment, her rapid breaths mingling with the rustling of leaves, as a gust of wind caressed her face. The breeze carried a faint whisper, as if the very essence of the forest sought to console her.

But it wouldn't work. Not this time, not today.

Taking a few steps back, she brushed some of the bark off of her bloody fist, and took fighting stance once more. She riled her fist up, ready to strike the tree once more. And as she ran at the tree, she let out an animalistic cry, and braced for the impact she would make with the tree.

Though it wouldn't come, as instead, her fist would land in someone's open hand. Fujin's hand. He looked unimpressed. Even when he had appeared out of nowhere, (Y/n) was unsurprised at his sudden appearance.

"You're going to break your hand," he warned her, his hold on her fist tight though he was careful of her wounds.

Feeling the resistance of Fujin's hand against her clenched fist, (Y/n) halted her forward momentum, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze. The intensity of her frustration and anger still burned within her, but she recognized the concern in Fujin's eyes, the genuine care he held for her well-being.

"And what if I do?" she retorted, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and weariness. "What does it matter? A broken hand doesn't compare to any mental anguish within me."

"Your pain matters, (Y/n), both physical and emotional. But self-destruction won't lead you to the answers you seek. It will only perpetuate the cycle of suffering."

His words hung in the air, and (Y/n) found herself torn between her instinct to fight and the need to find a healthier path forward. The turmoil within her was palpable, visible in the way her shoulders slumped and her gaze wavered.

(Y/n) tore her bloody hand away from Fujin's, spinning around abruptly and stumbling over to the trunk of another tree. She dropped down, sitting against it, as she threaded her hands in her hair, holding her head as she sighed and allowed herself to breathe.

Fujin watched (Y/n) with a mix of understanding and concern. He knew that forcing her to change her mindset would be futile, for healing required time and personal realization. Instead, he took a step closer and sat down beside her, offering a supportive presence without intruding on her space.

Silence settled between them, the only sounds being the rustling leaves and (Y/n)'s ragged breaths. Fujin knew that the weight of her emotions was suffocating, threatening to drown her. But he also knew that she was resilient, and could overcome this and anything like it. He just wish that she knew that.

"I've seen the strength within you, (Y/n)," Fujin spoke softly, his voice carrying a comforting warmth. "You possess a resilience that is rare. I know it feels overwhelming right now, but I believe in your ability to overcome this darkness. You are a fine warrior."

He wrapped a gentle arm around her, and drew her in closer to him.

"You are my warrior."

(Y/n) instinctively leaned into him, finding solace in the warmth of his bigger body as she allowed her head to rest against him, taking in his scent as she always did when she was close to him. Fujin felt a sense of relief wash over him when she seemed to give in, even if only for the night. The way her body relaxed against him would always be a satisfying sight, though he knew they couldn't stay out there for much longer when the light was disappearing as quickly as it was.

"Won't you come inside with me, my feather?" Fujin asked, leaning back so he could look at her face properly. "It's getting dark. I'll fix up your hands and we'll make some dinner, alright?"

(Y/n) looked up at Fujin, her gaze meeting his as a faint smile played on her lips. She nodded in agreement, grateful for his care and concerned about the fading light. The thought of tending to her wounded hands and sharing a meal with him sounded comforting, a small respite from the turmoil that had consumed her.

With gentle movements, they disentangled themselves from each other's embrace and stood up. Fujin reached out a hand, offering it to (Y/n), and she took it without hesitation. They walked side by side, their fingers interlaced, as they made their way back through the forest toward the Sky Temple.

Inside, the soft glow of candlelight illuminated the cosy living space. The scent of incense lingered in the air, creating a serene atmosphere. She had began to find a comforting familiarity whenever she entered the temple, like the one she had felt a while ago when she lived with her father.

Fujin guided her to a comfortable seat, his movements gentle as he retrieved the supplies he would need to tend to his lover's battered hands, a basin of warm water, a towel and some bandages.

Sitting beside (Y/n), Fujin placed the basin of warm water in front of them, its soothing steam rising into the air. He unfolded the towel and carefully dipped it into the water, wringing it out before tenderly placing it over (Y/n)'s injured hands.

The warmth of the water enveloped her hands, easing the ache and tenderness she had ignored during her furious training. The sensation provided a stark contrast to the pain she had been inflicting upon herself, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to fully immerse in the healing process.

Fujin's touch was gentle as he held her hands, his fingers caressing the edges of her wounds with utmost care. His eyes were filled with unwavering focus, ensuring that every gesture was delicate and precise. It was a testament to his dedication to her well-being.

In the midst of the silence, the only sound that filled the room was the gentle trickle of water droplets as Fujin carefully rinsed away the dried blood. (Y/n) watched him work, captivated by the tenderness in his touch and the unwavering love she saw reflected in his eyes.

As Fujin finished tending to her wounds, he reached for the bandages, gently wrapping them around her hands with meticulous care. With each turn, he secured the bandages in place, ensuring both support and protection for her healing injuries.

"These bandages will serve as a reminder," Fujin said, his voice holding a quiet reassurance. "A reminder of your resilience and the battles you have faced. They will bear witness to your strength and serve as a symbol of your indomitable spirit."

(Y/n) nodded, her hands cradled in Fujin's as she gazed down at the bandaged wounds. The pain had subsided, replaced by a subtle throbbing sensation that served as a reminder of her journey. Her scars, both physical and emotional, were not a sign of weakness, but of her survival so far in this harsh, cruel world.

Standing up, Fujin extended a hand toward (Y/n), inviting her to rise with him.

"Now, how about that meal, then?"

-

The night was beginning to settle, and with that, as were (Y/n) and Fujin.

While (Y/n) sat at the vanity in their room, brushing her hair with the light of a candle by her to guide her in the dark, Fujin prepared for bed by changing clothes - he fancied a pair of loose fitting pants for bed, and nothing else.

As she watched his reflection in the mirror, she couldn't help but admire him as she always did. His toned figured, his glowing tattoos, his long hair which reached past his waist. He was simply too much.

His presence was magnetic, and even in the dim light, he seemed to emit an ethereal glow. His tranquil demeanour and unwavering strength never failed to captivate her.

Putting the brush down, she turned her body to face him fully, her eyes tracing the lines of his figure as he moved gracefully. The way he effortlessly exuded confidence and poise was both mesmerizing and intimidating. It was as if he had mastered the art of being both gentle and formidable at the same time.

"You're quite the sight, Fujin," (Y/n) murmured, her voice filled with admiration. "Sometimes it's hard to believe that someone like you exists."

Fujin met her gaze, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"And yet, here I stand," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness. "Although, you're not one to talk now, are you?"

Fujin's playful response elicited a playful grin from (Y/n), adding a spark of light-heartedness to the room.

"Sit on the bed, you," she told him, picking her hairbrush up once again and standing up herself, "I want to brush your hair."

Fujin chuckled at (Y/n)'s request, pleasantly surprised by her suggestion. He walked over to the bed and sat down. The anticipation gleamed in (Y/n)'s eyes as she joined him, settling behind him with the hairbrush in her hand.

First, she began undoing his long braid, pulling the silver rings out of his hair and unfolding each wrap which his hair was in, admiring the way his hair had formed waves from the way it had been.

Then carefully, she began running the brush through his long, flowing hair, her touch gentle and soothing. Each stroke sent a comforting sensation through Fujin, as if the tensions of the day were being eased away. He closed his eyes, revelling in the intimate moment they shared.

As (Y/n) continued to brush his hair, her fingers occasionally grazing against his scalp, she found herself lost in the rhythmic motion. It was an act of tenderness, a gesture of trust and intimacy that went beyond words. The room was filled with a serene silence, broken only by the faint sound of the brush gliding through his silky strands.

"You have the most beautiful hair," (Y/n) whispered, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "It's so soft and lustrous. Taking care of it must be a ritual in itself."

Fujin hummed in response, a contented smile gracing his lips.

"Indeed, it is," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of tranquillity. "Taking care of oneself is a form of self-respect and self-care. It allows us to reconnect with our inner selves and find balance in our lives."

(Y/n) nodded in agreement, her fingers delicately combing through a tangle.

"It's fascinating how something as simple as brushing hair can be so soothing," she mused. "It's like a meditation, a way to be fully present in the moment."

Fujin tilted his head slightly, appreciating her insight.

"You have a remarkable ability to find beauty and meaning in the simplest of things," he remarked, his voice filled with admiration. "It's one of the many qualities I adore about you."

The room was engulfed in a tranquil atmosphere as they continued their quiet exchange. The brush moved through Fujin's hair, each stroke a symbol of their connection, their trust, and their deep affection for one another. Time seemed to stand still, as if the outside world had ceased to exist, and all that mattered was this intimate act of love and care.

As all of the knots and imperfections were removed from his hair, (Y/n) ran her fingers through his silky white strands, a smile of satisfaction plastered to her lips as she set her brush down.

"Would you like me to braid it again for you?" she asked, readjusting the way she sat behind him. "If you wouldn't mind," he nodded. "I'd hate for it to get tangled again when you spent so much time brushing it just now."

(Y/n) nodded with a warm smile, her fingers gently separating his hair into sections as she prepared to braid it once more. She enjoyed this intimate ritual, knowing that it brought them closer together and allowed them to share a moment of tranquillity before they retired for the night.

Carefully, she intertwined the strands, her hands moving with practiced ease. The rhythmic motion of her fingers weaving through his hair became a comforting melody, soothing both of their souls. As the braid took shape, it seemed to symbolize their connection, an unbreakable bond that wove their lives together.

Fujin leaned back, feeling the gentle tug on his hair as (Y/n) secured the braid. The sensation brought a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that she was there, taking care of him in the most tender way.

"There we go," she whispered softly, her voice carrying a sense of satisfaction. "A perfect braid, just for you."

Fujin turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, admiring the neat braid that (Y/n) had skilfully crafted. The braid lay elegantly against his back, a testament to her care and attention to detail.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude. "You always take such good care of me." "Of course I do," she giggled, tenderly wrapping her arms around his neck from behind as she pressed her nose into the side of his neck. "Why wouldn't I? When you take such good care of me."

Fujin leaned into her embrace, his heart swelling with warmth and love. He savored the feeling of her arms around him, her gentle presence enveloping him like a soothing embrace.

"It's a privilege to care for you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "You bring so much light and joy into my life, and I want nothing more than to reciprocate that love and care."

He turned his head slightly, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. Their connection deepened in that moment, their love expressed through the softness of their touch. They sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the serenity and comfort of their love.

As they broke the kiss, their foreheads touched, their eyes locked in an intimate gaze. In that moment, words seemed unnecessary, as their love flowed between them, unspoken yet understood. They revelled in the tranquillity of their shared affection, knowing that in each other's arms, they had found their home.

-

It wasn't unusual that (Y/n) would find herself training with Fujin and Raiden, even when her skill had significantly improved over the course of the while she had known them and lived with them. It was important that she kept on top of her training and that she didn't let herself get sloppy in kombat, especially when she used to be such a reckless brute.

So there they all were, in the courtyard of the Sky Temple, Fujin watching intently as Raiden and (Y/n) sparred. The sound of their clashes echoed through the training grounds, filling the air with a mixture of determination and intensity.

Raiden's lightning surged forth, crackling with power as he unleashed a barrage of strikes, each one aimed with precision. (Y/n) expertly dodged and parried, her movements fluid and agile. She had come a long way since their first training sessions, her dedication and hard work evident in her improved kombat skills.

As they continued to spar, Fujin's gaze shifted between the two warriors, analysing their techniques and reactions. He observed the intricate dance of offense and defence, each fighter pushing themselves to their limits. The training session was not just about physical strength, but also mental fortitude and tactical decision-making.

(Y/n) had learned to harness her power and strike with purpose. No longer driven solely by raw strength, she had honed her combat instincts and adapted her style to become a more versatile fighter. Her movements were precise, her strikes calculated, and she demonstrated an impressive ability to exploit her opponents' weaknesses.

Even so, something seemed wrong, and he could tell that Raiden knew as well.

(Y/n) drove her bandaged fist at him, and Raiden caught her wrist, pausing the session momentarily.

"(Y/n), your progress is commendable," Raiden said, his voice resonating with authority. "But I sense hesitation in your movements. You must trust your instincts and act without hesitation. Embrace your training, and let your skills flow naturally."

(Y/n) took a deep breath, absorbing Raiden's words. She hadn't even really noticed any difference in her kombat, though she figured it must've been due to her overthinking considering her father, and all of her anxieties must have been having an impact on her performance.

She nodded, acknowledging his feedback. As he began letting go of her, she stepped forward and hooked one of her feet around one his ankles, pulling forward in an attempt to take him off of his feet. While he didn't fall, he did stumble ever so slightly, losing his balance a little and therefore his focus as well.

Raiden regained his balance quickly, impressed by (Y/n)'s swift counterattack. A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, acknowledging her resourcefulness.

With her great agility, she was able to pull off a nice back handspring to reset her kombat - perhaps a little over the top, but she was never one to shy away from showing off, especially when she could sense the smirk and the shake of the head from Fujin who knew she only did anything acrobatic to flash out her kombat.

She prepared herself for another attack, feeling her chest swell with mischief as she smirked devilishly at Raiden. This was the spirit she was missing within herself, and it was finally reflecting in her fighting again.

As she launched herself at Raiden, something went oh so horribly wrong.

Raiden watched as the look in her eyes changed, and before she could carry out her next movement, she cried out in pain, clutching her chest and falling to the ground.

She coiled in pain, and both Raiden and Fujin approached her, confused though most of all concerned.

Raiden and Fujin rushed to (Y/n)'s side, their worry evident in their eyes. They knelt beside her, their voices filled with urgency.

"(Y/n), what happened?" Raiden asked, his voice laced with concern. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

(Y/n) gasped for breath, her face contorted in pain as she struggled to speak. She could feel a sharp, stabbing sensation in her chest, rendering her unable to form coherent words. It felt as if an invisible force was constricting her, making it difficult to breathe.

Fujin pulled her back, cradling her in one arm while the other brushed the hair out of her face.

"Please, try to breathe my love," Fujin urged her, cupping her face in one hand.

"It's no use. Breathing, that is."

Fujin and Raiden looked up, trying desperately to find the source of the voice which spoke. It was unfamiliar, yet...they had heard it somewhere before, somehow.

Standing by a gathering of trees at the edge of the forest was a figure, though her identity was obscured by the shadows which surrounded her. They didn't seem to be any ordinary shadows however, it was as though they were at her command.

"I've constricted her breathing from the inside. No amount of silly little breathing exercises will save her."

Fujin didn't bother ask the woman's name and what exactly she wanted with (Y/n) just yet, deciding that it was obviously more important to get his lover breathing once again.

With his power, he performed somewhat of a kiss of life on (Y/n), parting her lips and placing his mouth against her open one, allowing a surge of oxygen to go through her. It was only a temporary solution, though it did get her breathing again, as she coughed and spluttered after he pulled away.

"Who are you?? And what is the meaning of this??" Raiden demanded, his voice booming with authority as he spoke.

"We have not yet met, Raiden. Though I do believe you will all recognise me in...some aspects."

The stranger emerged from her place amongst the trees, the shadows around her dispersing as she took slow, intimidating steps towards them. And as her face became clear to them all, they were all much too stunned to speak.

(Y/n) felt a sense of pure dread wash over her when she was met with her own face, her own body. But...it wasn't her. She was her. This was not her. What obviously set the two of them a part was the difference in the saturation of colour of their skin. (Y/n)'s skin was healthy and full of colour, but this stranger, her skin was ashy and dull and covered in ancient symbols of evil.

(Y/n) had been good friends with Mileena in the past. She knew exactly what this was.

The stranger bowed slightly, a glint of mischievous evil in her eyes.

"My name is Kexin Tsung. I'm here to replace (Y/n)…and bring her head to Shao Kahn."

They remained in a stunned silence for a moment longer, trying their hardest to gage the situation at hand.

With all the strength she could muster, (Y/n) managed to hoist herself up, with the assistance of Fujin who stood up with her, holding her so she would remain steady.

"...my...my father created you," she panted, nearly wheezing from not only her exertion from before but also the way she had been strangled from the inside. "He created you in the flesh pits, with my DNA." "He's our father now, (Y/n)," Kexin corrected her, her smirk condescending and evil. "Don't you see? We're sisters." "You are not my sister," (Y/n) protested, clenching her fists tightly. "You're a weapon, created with the sole purpose of mass destruction. You don't have the capacity nor the room in your heart for the concept of family."

Kexin Tsung's expression twisted into a malevolent sneer, her eyes burning with an unhinged fervour.

"Oh, but dear sister, you underestimate the power that courses through my veins," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "I am a perfect amalgamation of your DNA and the dark sorcery of our father. I possess all your strengths and none of your weaknesses. Together, we could have been unstoppable."

Kexin took a few steps closer, bearing her weapon which seemed to be a flashed out Chain whip which had been modified to her specific tastes, and her sneer returned to a smirk once again.

"Though, I have different orders now. Shao Kahn wants your head, and I plan to deliver it to him."

Fujin held (Y/n) close to him in a protective way. His eyes narrowed, filled with resolute and a flicker of wind swirling around him.

"You will not have it, Kexin," Fujin told her, his voice firm and unwavering. "We will not let you harm (Y/n)."

Kexin let out a mocking, hysterical burst of laughter, placing a hand over her chest as if she couldn't take it.

"Oh, dear. This is simply too good," she cackled, unable to contain herself. "Your lover thinks he can protect you from me, sister. Isn't that just precious?"

Her laughter subsided to little giggles, and she covered her mouth ever so slightly.

"Won't it be absolutely hysterical when he has to watch me tear your body apart? Though, I suppose you won't get to see that now, will you?"

Fujin's grip on (Y/n) tightened, and he felt rage fill his body for the first time in a long, long time. Though, before he could say anything in retaliation, Kexin lurched forward, her chain whip slashing through the air with a malevolent speed. Fujin swiftly stepped back, pulling (Y/n) out of harm's way, narrowly avoiding the deadly strike. The chain whip whistled past them, missing its intended target by mere inches.

Raiden summoned a surge of lightning, crackling and dancing along his fingertips. He directed the bolts towards Kexin, aiming to immobilize her and create an opening for his allies. But Kexin, showing remarkable agility, swiftly dodged the electrical onslaught, weaving through the charged currents with unnatural grace.

"Impressive," Kexin taunted, her voice dripping with derision. "But you'll need more than some silly magic tricks to defeat me."

She held her chain whip between both hands, and seemed to focus on it for only a moment, before it was surrounded by a dark magic, one which would no doubt make the weapon she wielded much more deadly.

Raiden took a step forward, electricity crackling along his form. He raised his hands, ready to summon a more potent surge of lightning, though this time he would allow himself to merge the attack with his kombat. Hastily, he made his first movement, a direct hit with his palm, though Kexin was quick to dodge it, bringing her chain whip around and aiming to hit Raiden in the head with it. He ducked when he noticed it coming, dodging the attack with ease. He seized the opportunity to retaliate, using his lightning-infused palms to launch a barrage of rapid strikes towards Kexin. The bolts of electricity crackled through the air, seeking to overwhelm her defences.

But Kexin, displaying her enhanced agility, maneuvered through the lightning strikes with astonishing speed and grace. She twisted and contorted her body, evading each attack with an uncanny precision. It was clear that her dark magic had heightened her reflexes and granted her an advantage in kombat.

Though, it was obvious what she was trying to do. She was trying to out manoeuvre Raiden to gain access to (Y/n). Neither of the storm brothers would have this.

Fujin was quick to swoop (Y/n) from off of her feet, his intentions with taking her elsewhere while he allowed Fujin to deal with the situation at hand.

He could sense the exhaustion in her body, and he wanted to ensure her safety and well-being away from the battlefield.

"I've got you," Fujin murmured softly, his voice filled with reassurance. "I'll find somewhere safe to take you. She will not have you."

Typically, (Y/n) hated when Fujin defended her, especially concerning personal matters like this. Though, as of now, she was much too tired to argue with him, and her control on her breathing was slipping again, making it hard for her to speak anyways.

He didn't want to have to separate her, especially when she was like this. However, how was he to protect her otherwise?

Fujin took her up into the temple, toward their shared room, hoping he could tuck her into bed and stay nearby, should she need any more immediate attention.

Carefully, Fujin laid (Y/n) on their bed, ensuring she was comfortable and secure. He adjusted the blankets around her, tucking her in with a tender touch. His concern for her well-being was evident in his every movement.

Though, as she felt herself coming back, she seemed to fuss, sitting up and trying to push Fujin away from her.

"...I need to do this, Fujin," she told him, her tone firm but her voice was weak. "...this is my burden to bare. I can't have you and Raiden fight this for me."

Fujin's brows furrowed with concern as he gently reached out to steady (Y/n) and ease her back onto the bed. His eyes reflected his love and worry for her.

"My love, I understand your desire to take on your own burdens," Fujin responded, his voice filled with tenderness. "But you are in no state to be fighting. You need to rest. Let Raiden and I handle this." "I can't! It's not fair on you!" (Y/n) snapped, her voice trembling as she tried once again to push Fujin off of her. "This is my problem, and my problem alone."

Fujin's grip on (Y/n) tightened, gently but firmly, refusing to let her push him away. Her stubborn nature was something that he both loved and hated about her. It was admirable how strong she was, and how unwilling she was to simply give up and throw the towel in. However, this also meant that she didn't know when to quit, and naturally, this was detrimental.

"As much as I love you, my feather," Fujin began, cupping her face in both of his hands as a small, teasing smile tugged at his lips. "You are infuriating."

(Y/n) couldn't help but roll her eyes playfully, her gaze meeting Fujin's.

"What, and you're not?" she jabbed light-heartedly, placing her hands over his as she melted into his touch.

"Certainly not as much as you," he sighed, one of his hands tracing upward so it could thread in her hair. "Even so, I wouldn't trade it for anything."

He leaned in and placed a tender kiss against her forehead. For a moment, (Y/n) had completely forgotten about what was going on, Fujin always seemed to have that effect on her - calming, soothing, and he could always lull her into a sense of security, false or not.

As she felt like she could finally give in, a crash rang out through the temple. Particularly, outside of their room.

The door crashed open as someone was thrown through it.

Raiden, and his limp yet still alive body. He groaned, covered in blood, wounded over a significant portion of his body. All was silent as Kexin walked in after him, casually as though it were nothing. Her sight flickered between Raiden and the couple on the bed, and the she stared at her nails.

"Goodness, he wasn't much of a challenge now, was he?" Kexin sighed, bored as she approached him again, giving him a little kick.

(Y/n) was horrified at the sight. If Raiden was folded, then surely she wouldn't stand much of a chance. Just who was she spliced with? It obviously had to be someone pretty formidable, though she couldn't quite put her finger on the symbols which decorated Kexin's skin, and why on earth they looked so familiar.

Fujin stood up, in front of his lover, prepared to defend her in whatever way he had to to ensure her safety.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, ready to unleash his divine wind upon Kexin if necessary. The sight of Raiden injured and the threat posed by Kexin only fueled his resolve to keep (Y/n) safe at all costs.

"You will not harm her," Fujin declared, his voice steady and filled with a quiet but resolute power. "You will not lay another finger on anyone in this temple."

Kexin smirked, seemingly unfazed by Fujin's display of defiance. She slowly approached, her chain whip slithering along the ground behind her.

"My dear brother-in-law, always the protector," she taunted, her voice dripping with disdain. "But you cannot save her. Your powers, your wind, mean nothing to me."

Fujin's eyes narrowed, a gust of wind swirling around him in response to Kexin's words. He braced himself, ready to face her head-on.

As Kexin closed the distance between them, Fujin summoned a powerful gust of wind, aiming to knock her off balance and create an opportunity to strike. The tempest roared around him, carrying the force of his determination and protecting his beloved (Y/n) behind him.

Kexin, however, displayed her agility once again, gracefully dodging the wind currents with an uncanny ease. She moved with a calculated grace, her chain whip poised to strike.

With a swift movement, she lashed out, the chain whip slicing through the air towards Fujin. He deftly evaded the attack, his body moving with the fluidity of the wind itself.

In a counterattack, Fujin summoned a powerful burst of wind from his palms, aiming to buffet Kexin with a force that could render her momentarily vulnerable. The blast struck true, momentarily staggering Kexin and allowing Fujin to press his advantage.

But Kexin was resilient. Despite the wind's force, she quickly regained her composure and retaliated with a flurry of lightning-quick strikes from her chain whip. Fujin skilfully maneuvered, deflecting and evading the attacks, his wind serving as both a shield and a means to strike back.

Though, as they fought, Kexin was monitoring anything she deemed weak in Fujin, and ultimately, his reluctance to kill her immediately was his catalyst.

Her chain whip whirled through the air, delivering swift and precise strikes that Fujin struggled to evade. He attempted to summon his wind to shield himself, but it faltered, unable to provide adequate protection against Kexin's onslaught.

Her power was unlike anything that any of them had ever seen, and (Y/n) could do nothing but sit there, paralyzed, as she tried to think of something - anything to do.

It was only when she saw Kexin knock Fujin to the ground before grabbing onto his throat and lifting him back onto his feet when (Y/n) felt the adrenaline kick in.

She stood up abruptly.'

"Spare him, please! I'll come with you," she spluttered, her voice trembling as her eyes filled with tears.

There was a brief pause in Kexin's actions, as she regarded (Y/n) with a mix of amusement and curiosity. The grip on Fujin's throat loosened slightly, but Kexin maintained her hold, keeping him restrained.

"You'll surrender yourself? To save your lovers life?" She asked, following her speech was a condescending snicker. "How cute." "(Y/n), you mustn't-"

Fujin was cut off by the way Kexin fastened her hand tight around his throat again, causing him to choke and splutter as he clawed at her hand desperately.

"Yes, I'll surrender myself," (Y/n) said, her voice quivering. "But only if you release him and promise not to harm him or Raiden any further."

This was it, this was her opportunity to have Shao Kahn wrapped around her finger. Oh, how easy it was, human sentiment was so feeble and easy to manipulate. She giggled, dropping Fujin before she approached (Y/n).

Before anyone knew it, (Y/n) had been restrained, and in a burst of smoke, both she and Kexin were gone.

-

A/n: WHY DO I KEEP DOING THIS TO MYSELF AGGGHHH