#big ficking hands

[cryptidfagswag]

i would like a hug now please

[du-hjarta-skulblaka]

It just occurred that for all im interested in Dragon Age Darthvader, I should maybe like. Actually. Finish inquisition,,

[ravenslvt]

☆ ryomen sukuna x f!reader ☆

cw: college au! smut! rough! degration! drabble

first thing you thought when you saw this man:

‘oh. i wanna fuck him.’

the way he acted like he absolutely hated you, always hiding a smirk when he caught you staring at him. his arms, his face, his muscles, his fucking tattoos.

“jesus. stop staring at him like that.” megumi would groan at the sight of you oogling the man. you’d blink up at him. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

your mind went crazy at night thinking about him. picturing him relentlessly pounding into you until you’re crying. a strong hand around your little throat.

don’t get started on his voice. the way he’d casually degrade you made your legs quiver.

“what the fuck are you looking at?”

the way you’d go over to him and yuji’s shared apartment just to hear him go “why the fuck is this bitch here?”

oh you loved it. and he knew it too.

that’s why when you stayed on yuji’s couch after a night of drinking, you casually thumbed at your phone, sending drunken misspelled texts to your friends.

‘hed so ficking hot giys’

‘seroudly i bet his duck is huuuuge’

your insistent typing got interrupted by a sudden groan behind you.

“why the fuck are you here?” sukuna stood behind the couch, looking over your shoulder. you quickly shut your phone off, turning to him.

your eyes almost popped out of your head at the sight of his shirtless chest.

you hadn’t even changed out of your bar clothes yet, still in a short little skirt and a low cut top. you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your attire.

“dressed like a slut too. are you begging to be fucked or something?” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. your cheeks heat, looking away from him.

“no… just didn’t bring extra clothes” your thighs clench together to calm the heat from down there.

he hums, walking to the fridge for some water.

“and i’m not a slut!” you work up the courage stand, to practically yell at him, despite how weak your voice sounded. this makes him turn around.

“really? you sure look the part.” he chuckles.

“fuck you.” you spit out at him, making him smirk.

“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he quirks his head, eyes raking over your now standing form. the way your skirt hiked up just above your thighs.

okay, you were fucked.

“fuck! s’too much.” you mewl into the cushion of the couch, sukuna’s big veiny cock pounding into your tight little cunt. his hands gripping tightly at your hips, his pelvis meeting your ass with a loud clap at every thrust.

“you wanted this, didn’t you?” he laughs at your cries, his tip kissing your cervix every time he enters you, fucking you from behind.

he leans closer to your ear, his consistent deep trusts along with your moans were the only thing that filled the silence of the living room.

“runnin’ that fucking mouth and can’t even take dick.” he growls, grabbing your wrists and pulling you back to bring your bare back against his chest. you were covered in a thin layer of sweat, panting, all while he still had his full stamina, fucking into you ruthlessly.

you were embarrassed by the sheer wetness of your cunt, how the squelching noises proved how insanely bad you wanted him.

you whine when he lets go of your wrists, bringing his free hand to your throat, pressing you against him. using his other arm to wrap around your middle to hold you in place while he pumps into you.

“s’kuna!” you cry out, tits bouncing with every thrust. it was borderline painful the pace he was fucking you, but you loved it. you craved it. you spent countless nights fucking your little fingers imagining it was him.

“your pussy’s suckin’ me in like a fuckin' slut. thought you said you weren’t one? guess you’re a liar too.” he chuckles, hand tightening around your neck, partially cutting off your airflow. your hands go to reach behind you to tug at his hair, but he stops you.

“don’t fucking touch me.” he seethes, your cunt uncontrollably squeezing around him from the degration, making him groan and roll his head back.

“fuckk, you like that don’t you? so pathetic. suckin’ me in so well, though.” he grunts out between each thrust. you were so close, and he could sense it.

“g’nna cum.” you whine, hands gripping the edge of the couch.

“no, you’re fucking not.” he lets go of you, your upper body falling back onto the cushion below. you let out an exasperated scream when he suddenly pulls out of you completely. you crane your head back as far as you could to look back at him. he just has a smug ass smirk on his face.

“want you to beg for it.”

your mouth falls agape for a moment, but immediately closes.

“p-please, wanna cum so bad!” you try grinding back into him, but he holds you steady.

“surely you can do better than that, baby” his hand comes down to place a firm smack on your ass, making your eyes squint closed for a moment. you huff, pouting up at him.

“need your cock so badly, sukuna! p-please let me cum i need it!” you pathetically plead. you could feel the way you clenched around absolutely nothing, missing the presence of him inside of you.

“that’s more like it.” he quickly presses the fat head of his cock to your entrance, slowly easing in, stretching you out all over again.

“my own personal slut" he groans, feeling you clench around him.

his pace is even more brutal than before, his dick easily finding your sweet spot and hitting it over and over until you were practically drooling on the couch. his eyes glued to where you two meet, a ring of white around his cock.

your nails dig into the cushions below you, heat pooling in your lower abdomen. you were probably tearing the poor fabric apart at this point.

his fingers grip at your hips, pushing you up and down his cock. you were sure he was holding you so tight there will be bruises the next day.

suddenly his pace gets faster and sloppier, his cock pulsing inside of you. you bite your lip to prevent yourself from screaming out, feeling blood bloom from where your teeth meet your lip.

“gonna let me cum inside? be my little fuck toy i can do anything i please with?” he pants out, groaning at the way you clench around him.

“yes! yes, please do! o-oh my god!” your vision goes hazy as you cum around him, milking his cock fully as he follows suit, pumping his cum deep inside your weeping cunt.

you were pretty sure you blacked out for a second.

you collapse on your shaky arms, trying to move away from his unending thrusts. he pulls you back with a growl.

“the fuck are you going? we’re not done.” he starts back up again.

masterlist

[nordidia]

Do you think CJ and Raph ever talk about their experiences with PTSD/anxiety together or even share advice on coping? Or do you think Raph would rather not? Explain your reasoning in your essay below

(i typed an entire novel and then accidentally closed chrome and it deleted everything let me try doing this again i barely remember what i said ok so. also this is just me blabbering idk guys im not a rise writer im just some opinionated guy online and you can completely disagree with me and i dont say what goes or not ok? ok!)

i dont think raph would go to him with his issues but i think it'd defo get talked about through asking CJ about things and checking up on him etc. and i think CJ would give raph alot of insight and advice on how to deal with anxieties and traumas,, tho alot of their convos would just be one of them saying something vile and the other one going "oh. is that not normal?" and the first one looking at the latter like this

but all in all i think they'd definitely help eachother with dealing with stuff... i think especially raph will assist CJ in just taking the blow on how much there is to unpack... his entire life has been a big traumatic event, i imagine suddenly living a sustained life without having to fight for survival every day would be a lot for him to deal with, especially the confusion and grief over what he has lost (maybe what he has lost feels a bit like pointless grief to him now? which is a trauma in itself) and also grieving what he never had. as we know, grief is also things we shouldve had but never got, and i think all the hamatos would be really helpful in dealing with that.

tho CJ seems to be a bit of a hardass on stuff like this which is incredibly understandable when you've had to fight for everything with zero stability at all anywhere you went. i could see him confiding in raph about it, but not only him if im honest. but there is an undeniable security about raph i think that the characters i the show feel, and i think CJ would seek the stability and consistent reliability that raph provides.

i also like that CJ doesnt seem too scared about calling out people when they do wrong, i can defo see CJ bluntly telling raph that bad coping mechanisms is stupid and makes things worse and worries everyone around. (this is ofc hand in hand with the good ol' HC that raph bottles shit up/avoids talking abt things. personally i think he never shuts up and frequently rants about stuff and lets his family know whenever shit is up but he avoids going too deep so his family thinks he's being fully transparent when actually he's just not voicing the worst shit. this is so real to me no i do not need therapy shut u)

i definitely think raph would confide in CJ about the krang thing. CJ is the one who knows the most about it, i can see raph going to him to just get a bit more information about what was going on, and also a bit of relief hearing that it didnt go as bad as it couldve gone... CJ being experienced with krangification would absolutely soothe worries and make him feel less alone about knowing what he knows and having gone through something thats a step further than his brothers

IS THIS A GOOD ENOUGH ESSAY i have academic anxiety dont grade me please its 4am i have taken melatonin pills im on my last leg help m *ficking dies*

edit: GOODNIGHT LOL

[nomizombie]

König apologises :(

[SFW/Fluff/Comfort] ; no usage of y/n, gender-neutral reader, swearing, könig upsets you so he tries his best to make it up to you.

[A/N] ; I used some german words that im not really familiar with in this one so feel free to correct me :,)

“S-Schatz wait!” König calls out.

You rush off; feet thumping as anger spreads though out your body.

“Leave me alone, König!” You yell back at him. How could he do something like that?! How could he hurt you like this?!

His footsteps quickly follow behind you as you continue speeding away from him. Where were you going? Who knows, as long as it was far away from him you didn’t care.

“Schatzi, please just listen to me?” His words echo out throughout the hallway, “It was a mistake! I would never hurt you like that. Please believe me.”

Your body freezes and refuses to look back at him. Tears were about to spill down the cheeks that he was holding earlier.

“S-Schatz please… Just listen for a second okay?” He pleads, eyebrows knit and eyes glossy.

“Okay. Go on. What could you possibly say that would make me feel better after that?”

“I…” He trails off, struggling to find the words in English.

“I just… I-I don’t know how to say this-“

“Well, spit it out?” You hiss at him.

He mutters a slew of German curses under his breath.

“I’m sorry.”

You turn to look at him with widened eyes. You’d never heard him apologise before. Instead of talking, he would smother you with gifts, hugs and kisses when you were upset. Words were not something he was particularly good at.

He stares at you anxiously waiting for your reaction.

“You’re… sorry?” Is all you can say.

“Yes. I’m sorry,” He responds almost immediately,

“I’m so- ficke- I messed up and I don't even know why I said such a thing in the first place." His voice cracks. He pinches the back of his hand before continuing,

"You're all I have. Please forgive me, Liebling."

Another voice crack.

"König-" You take a few steps towards him.

"No, no, don't comfort me. You should be the one crying."

He takes another step towards you. Then another. Then another until he’s standing hairs away from you and you’re forced to crane your head up at him.

“Is there any way for me to make it up to you?” He asks under his breath. His eyes look pained, distraught and ridden with guilt.

Your mind draws a blank. All you really want right now is to forget all of this.

You take half a step forward and hug the big guy. For a second his body freezes, unsure of what to do, but when it finally clicks in his head, his arms wrap around you. Tightly.

“I love you.” König says into the crook of your neck.

divider by @mmadeinheavenn ^_^

Ty for reading !!! :)

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

what’s the difference between curious and worried tongue flicks? also in general, how can you tell whether a snake is curious and happy or worried when handling them?

Great questions!

When handling a snake, you're looking for tongue flicks that are regular and don't appear overly long. It's difficult to describe, because you really just get an eye for it after a while. Curious tongue flicks aren't short (super-short tongue flicks are something associated with feeding mode in a lot of snakes), and a good tell is that they'll often lean towards whatever the snake is smelling.

This video is a great example of what worried/stressed tongue flicks look like! When a snake is feeling scared, their tongue flicks will often get loooooong and slooooow.

Body language can vary a lot between species, but there are good general ways to tell if your snake is feeling curious and content while you're handling them.

A snake that's comfortable and curious while being handled will not be overly tense - they'll be holding onto you, but their body won't feel stiff. Their neck will often be stretched out while they explore - look for "periscoping" (holding the neck straight-up) as a great sign your snake is having a good time exploring! They'll move steadily, with relaxed but alert movements.

In contrast, if a snake is feeling stressed while being handled, their body language will be extremely tense and stiff. Frequently, a scared snake will also act frantic in your hands, moving quickly and jerkily as they try to get away. Many species will hold their necks close to their body, like this:

The snake might also hold their mouth open - this is a common threat display, it's them saying "don't you trifle! I'm willing to bite you!" You might also see tail rattling, hissing, or striking, depending on species. When a scared snake strikes, they're usually very quick, frantic strikes, and they'll rarely ever actually bite down.

A snake who feels scared might puff up their body, hiss, rear up on their coils, or otherwise try to make themselves look big and scary. Hognoses are a great example, one who feels scared might puff up their cheeks and/or neck and curl up their tails.

The specifics depend on the species and the individual you're working with, but in general:

Steady, alert tongue flicks + relaxed muscles + steady movements + stretched-out necks = happy, curious snake

Tense body + frantic/jerky movements + long, slow tongue ficks + trying to make themselves look bigger = worried snake

[tyunkus]

what do u think tubatu fav positions are? BUT ALSO to entertain u i def think yeonjun is a classic missionary guy who likes fo switch it up from time to time (esp to cowgirl, he likes the view while he holds ur thigh/boob in one hand and leans on a hand behind his head) and hyuka is sooo touchy i feel like he would love lotus and spooning sex (? IDK THE NAME OF THATPOS)

yeonjun is hard to say cuz i think he’d love all of them😭 and he’d fuck you good in any position it’s so unfair … me personally i think missionary cuz he likes to look at you (and ur boobs and also spit in ur mouth) and also doggy cuz he likes smacking ur ass hehe AND UES COWGIRL FICK!!!! also reverse cowgirl LIKE I SAID HE LIKES ANYTHING LMFAO hed give it to you good every time

soobin maybe cowgirl also? likes the ambiguity of it like doesnt really have a set power dynamic to it. likes to hold onto ur tits too. thinks you look so pretty straddling his lap n looking down at him hehehe!!!! I also believe he would love to fuck ahile spooning idk. Something ab cumming inside u then watching it all drip out from between ur legs while ur all curled up into him hehfjejrj

beomgyu would like eagle where its like. ur legs on his shoulders while he fucks u. likes to feel u tremble n buck up into him❤️❤️❤️ also when ur legs are just perched on him like that it makes him feel big n strong n sturdy CUZ HE IS!!! owuld hold onto your calves while messing up ur pussy yup yup and it would also make a great transition into a mating press WHO SAID THA

Taehyun i genuinely dont know i always write him hitting it from da back so maybe subconsciously i believe that he likes taking u from behind 😭 BUT I ALSO THINK if hes really in love witj you like that missionary… wants to see all the faces you make when you take his cock….,,’dkdjjene hes a visual person, wants to see how good he makes you feeljdcjndjr

hyuka lotus / spooning is so real like. hes so passionate n cutesy n dreamy AHHH🥹🥹 loves those positions cuz its so close n intimate n he can feel every inch of you n likewise for you 😭!!!! loves just breathing in your scent n fucking up into you slow n sensual so u can really feel it ..&;&;&;&3& EAHEHEIEJEJ

[protocolseben]

(3 days before flight)

"Rocky, should I untether Mark from the pipes?"

"Don't even think about it Sebastian. I don't want to get into trouble !"

»»» 11th Day of Mission

Load LOG : // SL-21-20XX-28-12_01…

(alternate title : fuck characterisation, hello OOC. get OOC pain'd.)

###########

23:04:26:85 UTC +1 CET

Recording? Ok...so today-

("Talking into your diary again like a girl, love? ")

"Fucking…" clunk "It's my logging session. I'll throw something at you."

("Did you forget where you are?")

"Fick dich."

("…I hope that's German for 'I like you a lot?' ")

< clunk >

recording terminated due to lack of sound / voice activity.

###########

END LOG SL-21-20XX-28-12_01

// -----------------------------

Load LOG : // SL-21-20XX-28-12_02…

###########

23:11:33:02 UTC +1 CET

…Ok, the light is on, it is recording now.

This morning the Earth looked bluer than usual, and I really liked it, so I grabbed the camera and quickly snapped a picture. My photography skills are good enough!

NASA's Jackson called us the noisiest astronauts ever. Fair... But he did remark on how efficiently Mark and I get the work done around the station, given the state and the age of the machines. We would really just split the massive amount of maintenance into two and made sure we tied up any loose ends, and they were always impressed.

Today we had to do a pretty massive job of putting on the NOAX stuff on the many of the station panels. It was our second time doing a spacewalk in only eleven days, so that's a big thing. And it was…four hours outside, putting basically space caulk. Heat really gets to these big guys! The application was less than fantastic though, as we had to use spatulas to put them on…it was a really careful science experiment. There's Mark and me, stuck to only the metal railings of the station for our lives, putting state-of-the-art things with some ma's spatula. It's hot doing this the whole day, just mashing this stuff in! Sweating in space is not fun…

I looked up the stuff when I got back from the work. They use these things in Formula 1 cars…? Well you learn something new everyday and experience new things too, but I'm not sure how this caulk thing will benefit that much… probably only useful if Michael Schumacher goes 27 thousand kilometres per hour, sure…

Ok, I have been putting off talking about Mark.

The previous recordings already have them, but for memory's sake, I will just mention it here. I know, I know, I'm going to be 24 next year, and here I am, still feeling like i'm in middle school with how I'm acting.

We've been co-workers for two years now, and we've had our fair share of being at each other's necks. Horner didn't help either. The only thing he had to say to us before we left was that we were like an old married couple. And to get "our shit sorted by the end of the trip".

Well…

It really is hard to put it into words. It was pretty obvious to everyone, so I am the idiot here. Hah... I tried not to think much of it, especially during the suit up procedure for the spacewalks. it needed two people anyway.

Before we went back into the airlock, the bastard went to unhook my tether off the metal railing! Fucker!! Do you know how screwed we'll get if I wasn't anywhere with the EMU? He had the gall to laugh in his suit. I should have just beaten his face in just now.

("You didn't mention me holding your hands?")

clnk

("oh shoot--")

recording terminated due to lack of sound / voice activity.

###########

END LOG SL-21-20XX-28-12-2

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

[sucantslay]

BELIEVE 4 LEAVE ANALYSIS ( PART 1/2)

Eating noodles*

Uhm, since Believe 4 leave is coming out soon, might as well watch the translated lyrics for fun.

Song start playing*

"To the thing that you can't see, is there really an end to all of that?"

Noodles drop*

Ya know what, eating is needed, but analysis this song is more important right now!

Uhm...so, *wear my weird-looking but cool-ass glasses on* let's get into it shall we? ALKALOID P? MayoiP?

So before we actually get into the song lyrics, I would like to remind you something about Mayoi.

He's a little freak, a little cute freak that most of the fans can relate to.

Mostly because of his low self-esteem, he gets scared easily and goes from "Haha" to "I SHOULDN'T HAVE LIVE ANYMORE" really quickly.

Few of the first chapters from the main story until recently, even if it is a small thing, he did change. He doesn't usually talk that much, not even in any conversation with other members or outside people in ES.

He's in his own world, his own thoughts for most of the time. If he did say anything, it was either praising others, talking badly about himself, or simply a scream, panic for help.

But later on, he talks more and more, more open about himself. Even if he still has that low self-esteem within him, he's happy that everyone didn't push him away.

And the song covers up some of that Mayoi character in it! It really hit the right spot if you look close enough.

From the first line:

It not really a happy feeling, it more of an unsettled situation where Mayoi couldn't know if any of this going to end of continue to suffocate him to death.

I think this is talking about his first time going out to the outside world and couldn't easily run away like all the other time ( he run away from the hospital once ).

Tatsumi going to catch him back, Hiiro can sense him present, his form has being review to the world outside. But more importantly, he got a Unit to be in, he can't no longer be the phantom that ghost this place with no hope and being agony in his own world anymore.

With that thought in mind, he have to chose, to move forward or giving up and continue hiding.

At first, Mayoi didn't have the chose but to go along with other members, he's being push to continue:

the word "Binoculars" here is not only represent for a binoculars the Airship cool MV, but also about look into the future far ahead.

As he whispered: "I can't really do this, can i? I'm not that good of a person, how can a hideous person like me even deserve a place of happiness like them."

But in his hand was a binoculars, a device to look for the far distance, a further future, even if it was something small and hard to detect, he did in-fact, want to be as beautiful and fill with joy as them.

Yet he fill with nothing but anxious

But he didn't stop, he continue, in his head scream pain and agony yet he show no sigh of stop.

Because everyone still needs him, the team need him to help with their training, Tatsumi needs him to help with his yet to completely recover leg. Hiiro and Aira still need a person to relied on when Tatsumi wasn't around.

He can't stop now! ALKALOID NEED HIM!

I love this line sooooo muchhhhh, it not just about Mayoi, it about ALKALOID itself. About Tatsumi, about Aira and about Hiiro:

We're be able to dream! And we'll continue to dream from this every moment on!

Yes! they accept that their just stupids little bastard, but in that way, if stupids bastard like them were allowed to dream big? They won't stop now!

They announced that, this is all just a beginning

And the journey may be rough, but they won't scare to try out, if that what helps them achieve their long lasting dream.

Than we shift back to Mayoi:

As his little dream now is no longer a small bit of hope, but something that he himself and ALKALOID are chasing with.

He's not alone.

The ALKALOID are with him.

Ah fick that! They said: "We go on this journey with risk at hand!"

Maybe we'll fail, but with that mistake, we'll do it better next time.

And the next lyrics! They are also my favorite!

It LITERALLY about how fourth members represent for, and it even more meaningful when you read the main story!

Hiiro: Was despair when his brother leave him but find hope in ALKALOID.

Aira: Despair for love, you can spot this very easy from the fact that Aira don't really like himself that much, he scare and hate and just a little boy finding his way, so ALKALOID gave him love! The love that he deserves.

Ok...I'm so sorry but Tumblr don't allowed me to put more than 10 pic in here. BUT FOR THE LOVE OF ALKALOID I MUST!

THIS WILL BE 1/2 PART, YOU CAN FIND THE 2/2 PART ON MY PAGE. ( if can't, just use the analysis about b4l tag down there )

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS!

[deputy-buck]

“Marines manned three of the four machine guns in the late afternoon. They searched the horizon with binoculars, calling out points of interest to one another. The fourth gun lay in pieces across a Humvee hood. Over it, Corporal Jacks labored intently. I watched his big dirty hands cleaning each small part with tenderness, even love.“

- Nate Fick, One Bullet Away. (p. 220)

[jaijaitbinks]

Crack fick scenario where the HA sends King, Genos and Saitama to an undercover mission to infiltrate in a party hosted by [insert intimidating mafia boss name]. In some moment they need to get information from a guy in particular but they can't get through the crowd of people because they will easily notice them. They see that a lot of the guys there are with their couples and they have the biggest idea. King obviously can't disguise as a girl and Saitama is bald so that's a big nope. So that's how Genoko makes her big debut XD

(This is terible sorry)

While i was typing a short for this, I realized how, logistically, that would be impossible. Genos would need an entire structure change to be the traditional Genoko—can't just slap a dress and a wig on him and call him a woman, that's not how it works.

And then my brain went:

"... But what if they did just put a dress and a wig on him?"

And I am cackling over the mental image of a buff ass cyborg—broad shoulders, "muscle definition", and all—who looks like they're obviously crossdressing, wearing a wig and like. One of those dress suits.

Sidestepping the fact I love the idea of Genos in a dress suit, fucking IMAGINE that man in heels and decked out in jewelry and with long hair tied in a ponytail, makeup on his face and hand purse at his hip. He looks gorgeous, stunning, breathtaking—all but the fact his body's built like a robotic gym bro's.

PLEASE THIS SHIT IS KILLING ME

[lorata]

its not really thoughts because I can't form any right now, so just AAAHHHH YOUR NEW LIME FICK it's amazing and I want to eat it. I love the way it ended but at the same time I just want more and to find cato. also what did all the other victors who didn't know think after the treason roadtrip? and why did adessa and Ronan just go, okay, coolio I believe you? what did Nero tell them? and if Ronan was ready to do this the whole time (I mean he had so much reason to) why didn't he in canon? what about this moment made him go okay sure why not

let's be real the answer is "I need this to happen for the fic to exist"

but I think the reason Ronan did the big stabby-stabby here and not in canon is that ....... someone came to him from the future and was like, hey you know what, this keeps happening for 25 years, our kids keep dying, and then we all die, there is no point to anything we are doing

and maybe she's wrong! maybe she's a kid who needs serious mental help and not from the future or whatever! but at the same time ..... my god that's plausible. what would his future even look like, anyway? years and years of making deals to keep the status quo from getting worse. years of eating poisoned cookies. years of dead children. and if she's right -- for what? nothing. nothing, in the end.

fuck it, we ball.

in canon, on the other hand, he doesn't know any of that. he's still clinging to the hope that this will all be worth it, that he'll find a solution, that he'll wear Coriolanus down somehow -- hell, that Coriolanus will die, he's getting up there, and the next president will be better. he's IN the situation and is firmly entrenched in a risk-reward ratio that favours not rocking the boat. hence, he puts all his money on playing the long game, the needs of the many vs. the needs of the few, and in the end it betrays him.

Adessa, meanwhile, is fresh off the Nero betrayal and is ready to MURDER. give her any excuse, honestly, mama wants to KILL.

@literallyjustanyurlatthispoint also brought up the non-murder squad victors reacting to this on the news the next day and I think it would be PRIME comedy honestly. especially for baby victor Brutus who has absolutely no idea what to think

[twothpaste]

fick chunk about fuel's not-so-secret project at the new pork ruins, which somehow doubles as a whole-ass character study. (featuring bronson, nana, claus, lucas, and abelle my oc abelle.)

Speakin' of daylight: the noontime shine renders fire far less fearsome.

It flickers from the wick of a tiny index finger. Scarlet diamonds, scarcely greater than a candle's glimmer. How it kisses the ocean. That white-blue horizon line. There's a quaint horror, at the heart of the matter. Knowing even embers like these would - given the chance - reduce houses to ashes. And a quainter comfort, still. Knowing she'd never dare let 'em.

If you ask him 'bout phobias, Fuel ain't got none. Try talkin' to him 'bout "Pee-Tee-Ess-Dee," and he'll kindly decline, arms crossed. "Nah. Nope. N' hell naw, while I'm at it. But thank ya very much, Lucas." That kinda talk's for the twins. N' their forefathers. N' former Pigmasks, maybe some of 'em. His matchstick jitters're just a reflex. His muscles pulled stiff, at the scent of somethin' burning - well, that's 'cause it's a heck of a stinkin' smell. When he wakes up coughing, choking, on smoke that ain't there, it's that sleep apnea shit he's got. Nana diagnosed it. Y'can call her a madwoman, n' he does too, when he's joshin' around. But don't get it backwards. She knows what she's talkin' about.

Likewise, Abelle doesn't mention what's irking her. That she'd definitely be able to muster more than a goshdarn candle. Maybe an antique gas stove. Or a fireplace lighter. If only she'd gotten more than three hours of sleep. It casts a vague orange, ruffling up against the work station's tarped shade. Miscellaneous metal parts reflect only the teeniest glimmers. A wrench here. A dubious hunk of titanium there.

"So. Y'light it with yer mind? Just like that, huh…?" Even after all this time, truth be told, Fuel can still scarcely wrap his head around it.

"Sure do!" Abelle chimes. Before dousing her pride, so as not to be impolite. As the flame wavers, her brow furrows. "It doesn't exactly come natural, though. Gotta focus real hard on it. Helps to think of somethin' warm. I'm thinkin' of s'mores, right now."

"S'mores, huh? Makes sense, I guess. Y'ain't scared of it, or nothin'?"

"Me? Hehe! Naw, I'm never scared!"

"Well, shit! Beg yer pardon!" Fuel leans back, hands raised, donning an amused grin. Has a bite of his peanut butter sandwich, while he's at it. N' mutters the rest with a fist coverin' his mouthful. "I'm only askin' 'cause, ah.. Lucas used to say this psychic stuff was an awful sorta scary. Back when he first started doin' it, I mean."

"Oh, he's told me so, too. It's kinda funny, ain't it? Everyone always says he used to be so skittish. I can't hardly picture it." Abelle's got strawberry jam on hers. N' banana slices, too. She snuffs out the flare, just long enough for a meager nibble.

"Heh. That's fair. Sometimes I can't, neither." Beyond the makeshift awning, out there in the blue, silhouettes mill about the boats. Settin' up chemical filtering equipment, they'd said? Somethin' or other. If he squints, Fuel reckons he can make out Lucas' red-n'-yella plaid. Leading the pack, no doubt. "What if it goes outta control? If the fire gets bigger than y'bargained for, or whatever? That, uh… That ever happen?"

"Mm-mm," Abelle answers. Shakin' her head. "Not really. Not with PK Fire. Sometimes my Shields're too big, if y'can believe it. N' sometimes I start hearin' what other folks're thinkin', n' it's like..? Like I can't turn it off. But, if I'm bein' honest…" Her gaze dips downward, back into the shadows. Scrutinizes the pitiful candle wick, held low in her lap. "M'no good at Psycho-Kinesis. Offensive PSI, Kumatora calls it. The stuff y'can fight with."

"That ain't so bad, is it? Not much to fight about, these days."

"That's what Kumatora n' Lucas're always sayin'. But gosh, have ya seen them spar? They're incredible! N' Claus, too! PK Love, n' Ground, n' Starstorm… It's amazin'. The stuff they can do."

The way the kid's eyes brim with starshine, Fuel can totally imagine her watchin' the Cerulean Beach lightshow. Cheerin' from the sidelines, as Claus and Kumatora hurl fireballs at each other. Makin' the whole goddamn planet Earth shake, like it ain't done since armageddon. Or when Lucas' gaze takes on that otherworldly glow N' shit starts floatin' all around him. Like the very laws of nature were made to be broken, far as he's concerned. Somethin' so gentle n' mild - transfigured into somethin' downright cataclysmic.

Yeah, Fuel's seen 'em spar, alright. It scares the piss outta him.

"But me? I've got none o' that. Too weak for it, I guess." Abelle pinches her fingers together, quashing the flame like a bug. Takes a deep breath. Exhales it all, in one quick burst. "Shoot. Sorry. Didn't mean to go off on a tirade. I prob'ly sound real ungrateful. N' envious, besides."

"Naw, I, ah… I reckon I get where yer comin' from." Fuel shifts his weight, atop the supply crate he's sittin' on. Nurses a half-flat can of Sierra Mist. To clear his throat of that smoggy, cloggy sensation. "Y'just wanna be capable. Protect the folks y'care about. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Be a part of somethin' bigger."

"Yeah…"

"Nothin' wrong with wantin' that." Aluminum crinkles, frail, in his sturdy grasp. "Nothin' wrong at all."

His sandwich disappears down his gullet, during the brief quiet that ensues. Hers remains a work-in-progress. Restless, at seventeen and three months, even lunch breaks are a kind of labor. She shuffles her boots over strewn wires.

"Thank ya, Fuel," Abelle tells him. N' he perks up, and shrugs. Like he's surprised to hear it.

"Me? Naw, thank you. 'Preciate ya showin' me Pee-Kay Fire, at least. Made me feel a little braver. Fer what it's worth."

"Hehe. Aw, jeez. You're welcome, then."

It ain't pyrophobia. She'll take his word for it. But even little miss sunshine can tell there's somethin' he's tryin' to overcome. No matter how quickly he changes lanes.

"Say, y'don't got Thunder? By any chance?"

"Nope. Only Fire. Why?"

"Aw, no reason. Jus' curious."

"Well. I've got a curious question, too, if y'don't mind it. What's all this you're workin' on, in here?"

"Mm?" Fuel's gaze jolts to meet hers, if only for a split second. Dirty fingernails sift along the crate's lid. One foot kicks a heavy-duty screwdriver away, into the lamp-cast shadows. His teeth form a simper. "'Fraid that's a bit of a secret, lil' miss."

The kid's tired eyes turn suddenly sharp. Glancin' past him, at a dimly-lit swath of buttons and dials. Then directly at him. Snagged in a potent stare. Fuel hesitates before speakin' up. Still wearing that dumb grin on his face.

"Wait. Hah. Y'ain't tryin' to read my mind, are ya?"

Abelle stares harder. Takes a deep breath, leaning ever so slightly towards him. Then closes her eyes. As if embroiled in a deep, scrying focus. A chuckle cracks its way through Fuel's constitution. He shakes his head. Clambers to his feet.

"Okay, alright. I'll show ya. But, ah…" One index finger rises, as he drops to a near-whisper. "You'll keep it on the down-low, won'tcha?"

Abelle peeks one eye open. And smiles like a Keebler elf.

"Cross my heart, hope to die!"

-

Yellow paint peels to reveal steel plating. Which, in turn, gives way to scarlet rust. Layin' there in a dilapidated heap, rot notwithstanding, the central console alone prob'ly weighs as much as Abelle herself. Its glass cranium's a lost cause. Shattered n' displaced ages ago. Stiff rods stickin' out the circular chasm up top. Fuel managed to scavenge one lower left limb, mostly intact, from its would-be resting place. The others are a work-in-progress. They litter the workshop, alongside other unfinished Frankensteins. Pull on a pair of inch-thick gloves. A heavy helmet, with a darkened slit for a view. Smothered an apron, like a weighted blanket. She'd tell him he looks silly, if she didn't know better. Absolute spaceman.

He can't tame a bonfire. He can tame a welder. Got a safety checklist in his head. A spark-proof suit of armor. And a forge built of impenetrable battlements.

When Porky took Fuel, he had him puttin' in child labor hours at the goddamn bakery. Workin' dough for desperate dough. Burnin' bread like nobody's business. Absolute wonder he didn't get f-f-f-fired! As merciful a manager as Sweet Caroline was, the role suited her like a square peg to a round hole. N' Fuel, likewise, was a sorry excuse for a baker. Kneading putty, coughin' up flour and oven smog, apron tied too twisty-tight 'round his tree-trunk waist. Like his father before him, the young craftsman's calloused hands have always preferred sturdier fare. If y'ask Fuel, the hop-skip-n'-a-jump from lumber to iron ain't so much of a leap, after all.

Mecha Lions n' Boa Transistors are his bread n' butter out here. Should a stray Rhinocerocket come barrelling through the walkway, on account of a busted fin, Fuel's your guy. He'll whip up a replacement in no time flat. N' never mind the occasional dent that may mar his best bud's steely shins. Chimera repairs're a noble duty, far as he's concerned. One he's proud to uphold.

Robots, though? Most folks hardly consider 'em casualties. If they consider 'em at all.

An uncommon sight - most have long since ceased functioning. Uttered their last garbled beeps, and melded into the wreckage upon which they stand. A slim handful were reprogrammed n' repurposed, back during the first salvage missions. The rest were left to their tombs. Haunted the Harbor for about a decade, crawlin' around the place in various states of zombified dysfunction. You can picture a teenaged Fuel's cringing horror, as a shambling Octobot claimed his leg in a tendril's grasp. Yanked him straight down with a vengeance nastier than any sinkhole. Claus came to his rescue, this time. Made quick work of it. Crowbar's clash. Psionic flash. An ugly scowl marks the spot in his memory.

Y'can picture, too, how that same teenaged Fuel looked down upon the un-creature. One half titanium, one half bronze, sundered roughly down the middle. Circuit-tronics n' whatsits, blasted every which way. Not-brains spilling from its not-head. Its veneer, crisply obliterated, looked not unlike a welding mask. Come to think of it.

Each had a directive, once upon a time. Monitor the perimeter. Exterminate intruders. Serve King Burgers. Whatever. None have the chops for any task, anymore. Too feeble, ineffectual, expendable. Too little, too late. Wrong place n' time. To say robots "want" for anything would be a stretch. But the premise of "purpose" gets Fuel a wee bit misty-eyed.

Sure, it's a silly sentiment. He knows it. "Laugh it up, if ya like," he says. Becomes apparent to Abelle, real quick, that it ain't an illicit sorta secret, but a self-conscious one. Some folks have a righteous penchant for amends. He's got a feckless tendency toward unsung causes.

"Naw, I think it's mighty kind of ya," she replies. Naturally. Abelle's the girl who calls old cars "she," n' pats her PC's tower when it ain't loadin', n' prescribes human feelings to vintage stereos. That said, she'd be lyin' if she claimed her intrigue isn't primarily techno-historical. Eyein' the robot with an eagerness to match his mercy. "What about the wiring? N' the hardware repairs? I know just a lil' bit, myself. Might could help ya fix the processin' unit, if it's still got one."

"That so, Barbie? I'll take ya up on it, if y'mean it. Got Sheep helpin' me with some o' the electronics. Was thinkin' of askin' Claus, but they.. ah…"

They were there, last week, when Fuel pried the leg from the bog. Their spine's no good for heaving, these days. Helped him pull it loose, nevertheless. A mere index finger beckoned a telekinetic tug. N' they'd been all laughs, n' Lifeup, n' pats on the back, after Kerosene was sent tumblin' backwards. The foundry's mechanical menagerie had them whistlin' a different tune, though. Quiet steps, Lucas-esque. Deer in a taxidermy shop. Low glower, set upon Fuel's Lego brick pity projects.

"I don't see what's gotcha so touchy, all of a sudden. Ain't that different from Mecha Lions n' Boa Transistors, is it?"

Claus didn't answer him with the same old scowl. Not quite. Fury is a mask they outgrew ages ago.

Nana told him not to sweat it, over dinner. "Environment's got a profound effect on an animal's nerves. His words, not mine. He won't say so, but I think the Harbor has him a bit on edge. I wouldn't take it personally, if I were you."

"Me? Take shit personally? Hahah. I would never! Jeez, Nana, it's like ya don't even know me."

Fuel's the only one who can get her to roll her eyes with a smile. He loves it when she does that.

… Anyways.

He tells Abelle she ought not mention it to Claus. No sooner than she nods her noggin, Bronson barges in. Here to check up on his apprentice's handiwork, apparently. A wayward elbow knocks that can of Sierra Mist from its cabinet-top perch. "Oh, shoot. I didn't…" The master smith gawks down at his blunder. Only to find the can halfway crushed. And thankfully empty. Not a drop of spillage. He hunches over - pop in his knees - and picks it up. There's a remarkable grace to his hammy fingers. And a klutziness to his cough. ".. Ehm. Sorry." Fuel chuckles. No harm, no foul.

"Gosh, how many folks're in on this, anyways?" Abelle inquires. "Doesn't seem like much of a secret to me."

"The hell do ya mean? It's jus' Bronson, n' Sheep, n' Claus," muffles Fuel, through his helmet. "N' Nana, o' course. N' you. Now. I guess. So, uh. Practically nobody."

The robot's shiny new right leg is immaculate, by the way. Accordin' to Bronson's utmost scrutiny. A nigh mirror image of its leftward double. "I'm tellin' ya, Barlmoro, you've got this down to a science! Dunno what the heck y'need me for, anymore. I'll give ya a hand with the installation, though. Only since ya asked real nice."

"Why thank ya, boss," says Fuel. Who didn't ask at all.

But disaster strikes the master, when he hunkers on down. A sharp pain in his lumbar is swift to knock him right outta commission. Abelle ends up nursin' his woes with Lifeup, while Bronson nurses a root beer. She lends Fuel her lackluster telekinesis, in his stead. An invisible force - only a little shaky - helps him attach both legs, safe and secure, to the central console.

"… This look even to you, boss?" Fuel tosses back. Like a consolation.

Bronson holds up a measuring level, from his seat on the sidelines. Closes one eye. Squints. N' forces a wincing grin.

"Right on, kid."

Couple mornings later, Lucas swings by, in that awfully quiet way he's wont to. Nearly spooks Fuel right outta his skin, when he gets a knock on the wooden entryway frame. He tosses a frantic tarp over the automaton's arms. Raises his soda can, to meet Lucas' coffee jar.

"Ain'tcha doin' chimera transit today? Whatcha need little ol' me for?"

"We're gettin' started now. Thought I'd drop by, while uh. While most folks're preoccupied."

Lucas can't read minds. Besides Claus', at least. Kumatora's, maybe a little. But no one else. He's assured Fuel of it, 'bout ten or eleven times. Still, he finds his stomach sinkin' a little. The way his childhood pal looks right through him.

"Claus mentioned y'were repairin' robots. Told me not to tell anybody. Then, ah… Then Abelle said so, too. Ain't sure if it's still s'posed to be a secret or not."

Right. Of course.

"Heh, well, shit! Y'got me! I know, I know, y'don't gotta tell me, it's real stupid. They ain't livin' things. Don't even got feelin's, n' here I am feelin' sorry for 'em. We oughtta be usin' their parts for scrap, n' chimera repairs, n.. n' if ya need me to, Lucas, I'll stop n' do that instead, honest to god. Didn't mean to be all sketchy about it, I jus'..? Mm?"

Ain't like Lucas to interrupt. He raises his hand, instead. With a real pitiful blast of his overcast sky eyes.

"Err. Sorry. Go ahead," says Fuel.

"Don't worry 'bout it. S'alright. I just wanted to offer, um.. I mean. I can't work metal, or electronics, or do none o' that programmin' stuff. But. If y'ever need a jolt? Y'know, like, to jump-start somethin'?"

Lucas flashes him a thumbs-up. A teeny spark of PK Thunder dances from his fingertip.

"Lemme know. Anytime."

He watches, over a meek sip of coffee. While Fuel's pensive panic melts away like marshmallow goop.

"Ha.. haha! Phew, fuck, man! Thank ya, Lucas!! I mean it. Thank ya...!"

[satashiiwrites]

Bradley the Damned, Epilogue (complete)

Finally, it’s done. Finished this story for the WIP Big Bang (@wipbigbang), with a posting date of 10/31. Happy Halloween all.

With lovely art by Impala_chick

Title: Bradley the Damned, Epilogue (Complete)

Fandom: Generation Kill

Pairing: BradNate and RayWalt.

Fic Summary:

Returning to England upon the death of the only father he’s ever known, Lord Nathaniel Fick has braced himself for a return to a society that he never really has felt a member of. He’d much rather be off on one of his Uncle’s archeological adventures than running the family business.

Luckily, it seems that adventure has followed his Uncle to England.

Chapter summary:

Nate’s life has changed greatly over the years and eventually, he finds himself surrounded by familiar faces.

Tags/warnings: Alternative Universe. Supernatural elements. Set in Victorian England. Historical Inaccuracies (I tried to research but there’s some hand waving for plot reasons). Immortal!Brad.

They don’t stay in England long after Nate and Walt’s change. Just long enough to make sure there is no suspicion about Schwetje’s disappearance that leads to Nate’s door. There is a big bust-up about two weeks later when the notorious gangster Ferrando is arrested and let go within two days. Mr. Patterson tells Nate that he received a note delivered by one of the street children that said Mr. Ferrando had no beef with him and that Schwetje’s debts—whatever they may be—were not considered his. 

Nate takes the note as a sign and doesn’t point the detectives in certain directions when he is again interviewed about his business partners. Nothing further is heard, and Mr. Patterson reports no more issues with the shipping business. 

Business concluded, there’s no reason for Nate to linger in England over the winter with its long nights and short days. He yearns for the sun even as he spends his nights drunk on the pleasure of Brad’s body. Ray struggles to adapt to the modern world, even as his language improves. 

Brad is the one who persuades Nate that they return to Egypt, the desert and the sun drawing him just as much as it does Nate. They spend most of the voyage twined around each other on their stateroom bed. 

Nate can breathe easier once they hit the Mediterranean. The sun is more potent here, which gives him back the control he craves as Brad teaches him about his new existence. 

Read completed fic here on AO3

[winter-ashes21]

Armin Arlert x Trans!Reader (FtM)

~ This is a little fic I wrote with Armin about him and his boyfriend laying in bed together and discussing their future together. It's a very light, tooth rotting fluff read! There is no use of (Y/N) and Reader is not named. There is a few spicy moments mentioned and talk about transphobic family members, but it is brief. You can also find this fick on Ao3 under the Title: Sunlight Beams and Perfect Daydreams by Winter_Ashes_21 ~

The sunlight streamed in through the gaps of the curtain, lighting up the room and the few sun beams that streaked through the air highlighted the dust and other particles that hung in the air. The room was mostly silent except for the soft breathing and the shifting of covers. Armin had his arm around his boyfriend’s waist as they just laid together in silence, watching the dust move in the air. Armin’s chest was to his back and his hand rested on his bare stomach, the covers were pulled up to their waists. They were both warm and content to be in such a calming and peaceful moment where it felt like nothing existed except for them. 

Armin tightened his arm around him slightly, pulling him closer and he pressed a kiss to the top of his boyfriend’s head. He sighed happily and pressed back against Armin, moving his hand to cover Armin’s and he threaded their fingers together. A small smile played on both their lips as they cuddled in bed together, feeling each other's warmth and the comfort they brought each other. Armin’s chest brushed against his back with each breath and he listened to his boyfriend’s gentle breathing, enjoying the way he felt in his arms. They hadn’t had much time together like this since they’d both been busy with work; so when they took time to enjoy each other when they could. 

He sighed and sighted slightly in Armin’s arms and looked back at him. 

“Armin..?” He asked softly, his voice gentle and fond. Armin smiled and leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Yes?” He asked softly, staring down at him. He smoothed his hand over his stomach and slid it up to his chest, feeling the scars under his fingers. 

“Do you think we’ll ever have our dream life..? You know… A house, marriage… Maybe a cat or two… A room dedicated to just our books..?” His voice was light and soft, his eyes slightly downcast like he was thinking about that future. Armin smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Yes. I do. Maybe not this year, or the next, but one day. We’ll definitely have two cats and our library room. Of course. And we’ll both be able to work less so we can send more time together… I think it’ll be nice to decorate with you. Both of us combining our styles together in our forever home.” Armin smiled and he pulled his boyfriend closer, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. 

He chuckled and reached up, threading his fingers through Armin’s hair, gently tugging. 

“That does sound rather nice doesn’t it?” He said with a small smile. “And we’ll be able to hang paintings and have our friends over… We’ll be able to cook better because the kitchen will be bigger and we’ll actually have a bathroom that has a shower big enough for both of us to shower in.” He smirked and Armin chuckled and he pulled him closer. 

“Mmm… Showering together with you sounds very nice…” Armin said and rubbed his hand over his chest before sliding it back down to his stomach and gliding it over his hip. “We’ll be able to conserve water.” He said jokingly and smiled when his boyfriend laughed. 

“Ah yes. We’ll shower together to save water. Right.” He rolled his eyes, still chuckling softly and Armin grinned and kissed his neck. He shuttered slightly and lightly tugged on Armin’s hair again. He tilted his head to the side to give Armin more access to his neck, and closed his eyes. Armin took it and kissed up and down his neck, giving small nips here and there as Armin’s hand tightened on his hip. He took a deep breath and shuttered softly. “Armin…” He whispered, voice soft and Armin smiled. Armin pressed one more kiss to his neck before pulling back. 

He opened his eyes and bit his lip. 

“Tease…” He whispered and heard Armin’s chuckle. 

“Perhaps, but I’m just fine cuddling with you right now. We’ll have plenty of opportunities to get more… Intimate later.” Armin said, a faint blush crossing his face and he laughed softly. He reached up and creased Armin’s cheek, his eyes soft. 

“I’ll hold you to that.” He said and Armin leaned into his touch with a soft smile. 

“I know you will…” Armin said then his eyes lowered before he looked back up. “Do you… Really want to get married to me one day?” 

“Of course I do.” He smiled. “Maybe not this year, but eventually I do. You make me happy. You’ve accepted me for who I am and loved me as me… Not many people have done that for me… Plus, I love you so much. You… You’re the closest person I have..” He said, his voice so soft. Armin leaned down, gently took his chin and lifted his face and kissed him softly. He kissed back and wrapped his arms around Armin’s neck. He laid back on the bed and Armin leaned over him, neither of them wanting the kiss to end just yet. 

Armin finally pulled away a minute later and he stroked his cheek lovingly and he smiled up at Armin, his eyes soft.

“Of course I accepted you… I love you for you. Your smile and laugh, your personality. You are wonderful just the way you are… I’m so sorry that you lost so many people when you came out. You didn’t deserve to live with that pain. You don’t deserve to live cut off from people who should love you unconditionally. But we’ll make our own family. We’ll turn our lives into what we want. We’ll be happy. No matter what.” Armin kissed him again softly. He felt tears in his eyes as he kissed back and one slid down his cheek. No one was accepting and caring to him as Armin was. Some had tried, but most hadn’t. Armin was the one who had fought to learn him, to know him and when he’d come out to him, Armin had accepted him with open arms and his sweet smile. 

Armin pulled back and he gently wiped his tears away, creasing his cheek and giving him a soft smile.

“No need to cry…” Armin said softly, his blue eyes soft and filled with so much warmth. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. You’ll always have someone in your corner…” Armin whispered and kissed his cheek. He felt more tears gather in his eyes and he pulled Armin close and kissed him again. He couldn’t have asked for a better partner, a better lover, a better person to spend the rest of his life with. Armin was his present and his future and he could do anything with Armin by his side. He felt strong, he felt whole, he felt loved in Armin’s arms. He’d take this man, for better or for worse. He knew whatever was to come their way, they’d handle together and they’d be stronger with any hardships they’d face.

When they finally settled back down together, this time, his face pressed against Armin’s chest as Armin had his arms around him, one arm draped around his waist and the other under his head and Armin’s fingers threading through his hair. He had one of his own hands on Armin’s chest and his other arm around Armin’s waist. They breathed together and enjoyed each others company and warmth. 

“So, when we do start looking for a house…” He said, fingers tracing patterns on Armin’s chest. “We should look for one that’s at least two bedrooms. I don’t want a small house…” He pressed his hand against Armin’s stomach, fingers spreading apart. 

“Okay.” Armin nodded and threaded his fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp. “And I would like one that’s closer to the ocean.” Armin said softly and slid his hand down his side to his hip. He smiled.

Armin loved the ocean but they never had much time to go. They were always busy with work, and they lived in the middle of a city, so it took them a good couple of hours to reach the beach. They both wished the could go more. The last time they went had been a few months ago and they’d stayed after dark and watched the sunset then they’d danced together on the edge of the water, laughing and feeling the cool air around them. He would love to relive that experience again. It had been magical to see the moon and the stars, to feel Armin’s arms around him and to feel the water on their ankles. They had been in their own little world that night. That was the first time they’d said ‘I love you’ to each other. It warmed his heart to think of it. The drive home had been just as fun. They’d sang and even swung into an all night convenience store and bought cheap coffee and candy. When’d they’d gotten home, they’d made love and cuddled until they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms. 

He stroked Armin’s stomach then looked up at Armin. 

“Yes. How far away? An hour? Less?” 

“That’ll depend on pricing and availability.” Armin said and stared at him with soft eyes. He was remembering the same night. He nodded and slid his hand up Armin’s chest. 

“Yeah. Most places closer to the beach are pretty expensive. Let’s try to get a place that’s not a very touristy area. I don’t want to deal with a lot of people coming in from out of town and making the prices sky rocket.” He said, rolling his eyes and he felt more than heard Armin’s chuckle as he pulled him closer. 

“Yeah. That wouldn’t be too fun. The tourist areas are fun to visit but they’re not fun to live there. They lose their wonder after a while.” Armin kissed his forehead. “Okay. A two bedroom house close to the beach. Anything else that are must-haves?” 

He thought about it, his fingers stroking Armin’s chest absent mindedly, then he nodded.

“I’d like a sunroom. I would like to turn it into a reading area.” He said and Armin smiled as he nodded. “A sunroom does sound nice. Have a couch and some of those small bookshelves so we can change out the books from time to time.” Armin looked at him. He grinned and nodded. “And maybe some of those fake plants.” 

“Or real plants.” Armin snorted.

“Then you’re taking care of them because we both know I’ll forget about them.” He snorted and poked Armin’s chest and Armin chuckled and kissed his forehead. 

“I’ll make sure they’re watered and get enough sunlight.” Armin grinned and slid his hand back up to his waist and slid his hand to his back and pulled him even closer. He smiled and tucked his head against Armin’s chest, closing his eyes and listening to his heartbeat. 

Armin smiled down at him softly, feeling warmth in his chest for this young man in his arms. They’d come such a long way from when they’d first met. He’d been so quite and reserved, keeping to himself and Armin had thought he was so cute. It had taken Armin stepping out of his comfort zone and speaking with him and getting to know him for weeks before he’d even started to soften towards him. Once he did though, their relationship had blossomed pretty fast. They’d started going on dates regularly and hanging out where they could. Most of their dates had been to coffee shops and bookstores, browsing what they had and recommending each other books. Then they’d start hanging out together and about a year and half after meeting is when they’d finally moved in together. They’d already planned out how they would split the chores and the finances, and had even come up with a plan if they’d ever broken up for whatever reason just to be on the safe side. Now, it had been another year of them together and they were still going strong. Neither of them could wait to see what the future brought them. 

Armin kissed his head, taking in his scent. 

“If I were to get you a ring, what kind would you want?” Armin asked, taking his hand and threading their fingers together. He smiled and held Armin’s hand as he thought.

“Mmm… Something that’s not too flashy or large. Something that’ll fit right and match my style… I trust you. You know what I like and if you’re not sure, ask questions.” He smiled up at Armin and Armin chuckled and nodded, bringing their hands up and kissing his ring finger. 

“One day this will have your engagement ring on it, then after that, your wedding ring…” Armin said softly and he blushed slightly as he smiled. It made his heart jump when he thought about marrying Armin one day. One day he’d stand at the altar and take this man for better and for worse, to have to hold, forever more. 

Armin pressed their foreheads together and they stared into each other’s eyes, feeling at peace. He never thought he could love someone this deeply, this thoroughly as he did Armin. He’d never even allowed himself to dream of loving someone this deeply, but Armin had come in and messed all that up, swept him off his feet and showed him what love could be and it squeezed his heart. At first he’d tried to deny his feelings for Armin, scared of what would happy but Armin hadn’t given up on him and they’d slowly fallen in love. He still remembered when he first realized he’d liked Armin. It had been fall, the leaves falling around them in the gentle breeze and Armin had laughed at something, his whole face lighting up and his eyes closed and he’d just stared at Armin and in that moment, he’d known he was a goner for Armin, at that very moment, he felt it click into place. He’d fallen for Armin and he’d fallen hard. Armin was the one who made him feel safe, made him feel loved, made him feel seen. Armin never judged him, never made fun of him, had helped him though so much. Armin had been there when he’d cut off his family. Armin had been there when he’d gotten his first surgery. Armin had been there through so much. He couldn’t see his life without Armin anymore and the thought of never seeing him again tore his heart apart. 

Armin stared at him and he felt so happy. This man was the love of his life, the one he’d marry. He’d never let him go, not without a fight. Armin pulled him closer, kissing the top of his head. He closed his eyes and tucked his head into Armin’s chest, relaxing into his touch. This felt right for both of them. Warmth, safety, happiness. They had found where they belonged with each other. Armin pressed his nose into his hair, a small smile touching his lips. This right here, was better than anything. He had found happiness with this man, had found his confidence, found his place in the world. He was determined to never let it get away from him. 

They laid together for a while like that, just enjoying each other’s warmth. His eyes were closed, face pressed into Armin’s chest while Armin had his nose pressed into his hair, taking in his scent and watching as the sunlight slowly moved around the room as time passed. They both had things to do, but neither of them cared. They would enjoy each other’s warmth and comfort for as long as they could. He gently stroked Armin’s stomach, his fingers tracing invisible patterns across the pale flesh, as Armin’s fingers slowly slid up and down his spine. The room was quiet except for their breathing and the occasional sound of kisses. 

After a while, Armin kissed his head and stroked his hair.

“I’ll wait propose until after we move into our new home.” Armin said softly, pulling him closer to his chest. “So, that way we both have enough time to prepare. I want to pick out the perfect ring for you and I want us to already be in a perfect situation before we start with the next chapter of our lives.” Armin kissed his head again, his arms tightening around him. He smiled, a faint blush covering his cheeks as he slid his hand over Armin’s chest, his fingers dancing across Armin’s skin. 

“I’d like that..” He said softly, pressing closer to him. “That way we don’t have to worry as much and we’ll already be in a place that we love.” He kissed Armin’s chest. Armin rubbed his back.

“Exactly.” Armin kissed his head, a soft smile on his lips.

Armin gently rolled Asher onto his back and moved over him, kissing him softly.

“I love you.” Armin whispered against his lips, between kisses. He wrapped his arms around Armin’s neck, his fingers sliding into Armin’s hair. Armin smiled into the kiss, his arm pressing into the bed beside them, his other hand holding his jaw. He brushed his thumb along the back of Armin’s neck, his fingers lightly twisting into Armin’s hair. Armin moaned softly, his tongue sliding across his lower lip, he opened his mouth and Armin slid his tongue in. Then they were both lost in each other. 

After a few minutes of kissing, Armin finally broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against his. Armin slowly opened his eyes and stared into his eyes and they smiled at each other.

“I love you, too.” He whispered, gently stroking Armin’s hair, Armin gently stroked his jaw, thumb brushing over his cheek. He smiled at Armin, eyes soft, and Armin smiled back, getting lost in each others eyes. Neither of them had ever felt such a sense of peace before, both of them felt so comfortable and relaxed with each other. Armin kissed his nose, and smiled at his blush. Armin loved when his cheeks flushed, it always made him feel like he was doing something right. 

“I love you more.” Armin whispered, a small smile on his lips.

“I love you most.” He whispered back, fingers gliding down Armin’s back. Armin smiled softly and shook his head.

“No. I love you most.” Armin kissed his nose again, then kissed his lips. 

“Mmm… We’re not arguing over this.” He said, gently tugging on Armin’s hair. Armin chuckled softly. 

“Then you admit I’m right.” Armin said softly, rubbing their noses against each other. He gave Armin a look and rolled his eyes,

“No. I don’t. I’m just arguing with you over it.” He said and kissed Armin softly. Armin kissed back, a small chuckle leaving him. 

“Fine. But I-” Armin started but was cut off by another kiss and he smiled into it, chuckling.

They made out for a while, their lips moving against each other and their hands holding each other close. The sounds of lips parting, sighing and soft moans filled the room. They moved until Armin was on top of him, laying against him as they kissed softly, his hands burying themselves in Armin’s hair as Armin’s jamb slid down to his hips. Armin finally pulled back after a while, but just barely. Their lips still brushed against each other. 

Armin smiled down at him softly, his eyes slightly hazy and warm with affection and love. He smiled back at Armin, his fingers massaging Armin’s scalp as they laid there together. 

“You mean everything to me…” Armin said softly and he slid one hand from his hip to hold his cheek, staring into his eyes. “You have made my life so much better since we met. I can’t think of a world without you in it… You are my beloved, my light, my home…” Armin said and pressed a kiss to his lips softly. He was blushing deeply and he felt tears in his eyes as he kissed back softly. He wrapped his arms around Armin’s neck and pulled him close.

“Min…” He whispered against Armin’s lips. “You are the best thing in my life. You accepted me so easily, loved me for me, when my own family couldn’t. You have stuck by my side for so long, helped me through so much. You helped me finally cut contact with the people who never respected me. You are the perfect match for me. I couldn’t imagine a better person. There isn’t one and there never will be someone better than you.” He said, a tear leaving his eye.

Armin gently wiped it away, his own eyes damp. Armin rested his forehead against his, staring into his eyes. He stared back into Armin’s eyes, and gave him a soft smile. Armin’s thumb ran over his cheek softly and they rested there for a few minutes, just gazing into each others eyes and feeling each others warmth. Their chests brushed with each breath and their legs were tangled together. Their breaths mingled and his hands were on Armin’s back. This silent moment was one they’d shared before, one they would share again. They would just stare into each others eyes and feel like they’d found their place in the world. 

Armin pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before he finally pulled back. Armin stared down at him with soft eyes, his hands running over his sides and hips. He smiled up at Armin, eyes soft. Armin smiled back the got off him and laid beside him. He moved until his back was pressed to Armin’s chest and Armin hooked an arm around his waist and his fingers glided over his chest and stomach. He relaxed back against Armin and sighed happily, closing his eyes and feeling Armin press a kiss to the back of his head. He opened his eyes and took Armin’s hand and their fingers threaded together, resting against his chest and they both went back to watching the sunlight in the room. 

They laid there like that, cuddled together and their breathing started to match up. It felt like one of those moments in the books and it was always those little moments that made both their hearts melt. Armin brushed his thumb over his chest, pressing his nose into his hair. 

“Armin..?” He asked softly, gently squeezing Armin’s hand.

“Yes, my darling?” Armin asked, pulling him closer. 

“I want a fall wedding.” He said softly, a small smile on his lips. Armin smiled and kissed his head.

“Any particular reason for that?” Armin asked, a small smile on his lips. 

“Yeah. One, fall is just pretty. Two its not too cold or too hot. We can have one near a forest… Or somewhere with a gathering of trees and have falling leaves around us as we say our ‘I Dos’” He said with a smile, his eyes soft. Armin smiled and he held him tighter to his chest. 

“That does sound rather nice doesn’t it? The leaves all different colors. The wind blowing around us…” Armin kissed the back of his neck. He smiled, closing his eyes and he could picture it. It wouldn’t be a big gathering, just them and their closest friends. It made his heart clench and he brought Armin’s hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. Armin brushed his thumb over his lower lip. 

Armin looked up at the sunlight again and he could imagine just how beautiful his boyfriend would look on such a perfect day. The sun shining, the wind blowing and the leaves falling round him. That sweet smile on his face and his eyes bright with happiness. Armin felt his heart clench, a smile on his lips as he imagined the day they would share that perfect moment. One that would start their loves together as a married couple. They’d already have their new house and would be ready for marriage. Maybe they’d even adopt a cat or two. Armin closed his eyes, pulling him closer to his chest and pressing his nose into his hair. 

And even if that day wasn’t a sunny day filled with falling leaves and wind, it would still be perfect. Even if it was pouring rain, even if it snowed, even if everything went wrong that day, it would still be perfect. Armin knew that day would always hold a special place in his heart when it came. He would have his love there with him for the rest of his life, have that ring on his finger and his love would take his last name. He could imagine their first dance, laughing and tripping over each other. He could imagine carrying his new husband into their home, hearing him playfully complain about being held. He could imagine their future together and it held so much light and warmth. It almost made him wonder if he deserved such things, if he deserved to be so happy. 

He laid in Armin’s arms, smiling softly as he too imagined their future together. He imagined how Armin would propose, down on one knee. They’d be alone. Neither of them were a big fan of crowds. He could imagine what Armin would say. Something that would make him cry no doubt. Armin always had a way with words that he was jealous of. Armin’s wedding vows would probably have him ugly crying. He smiled at the thought, gently squeezing Armin’s hand. Their future together wouldn’t always be perfect, nothing was ever always perfect, but it would be wonderful and beautiful and they would always get through it. Together.

[whumpwizard]

Whumptber2022 Day 17: Hanging by a Threat

“You know, if you would just tell me what you’re doing with the Beacons, this would all be over quite quickly.” Shadowhand Thelyss said, stalking around his cell. The ginger-haired Scourger, Bren, knelt before him in the cell, ankles tied to his thighs to force him into a kneeling position, and arms bound strappado behind him.  Adding to the discomfort, they were tied to the ceiling as well, wrenching them upwards and forcing him to fold forwards.

“Fick dich.” the human spat, wriggling a bit in his bonds.

“Tsk tsk. You know, you look rather uncomfortable like that.  Tell me, boy, can you still feel your feet? Or has the last hour left them numb?” Essek knew the answer of course. That particular kneeling position would render one’s feet almost entirely numb in around fifteen minutes, less when the arm bindings were considered. Bren’s legs would be going without blood, his arms would be aching, and soon his back would start to scream, begging him to readjust.  Still, though, he showed no signs of breaking.  He was a strong one, to be sure.

“I have not seen or touched your stupid beacon, crick.” he replied. Essek smiled.

“And yet you seem to be a proficient novice practitioner of Dunamancy. Something that only study of the beacon could bring an Empire dog.”  He took a few steps into the cell, examining the Scourger as he did.

“Then you are more of an idiot than your leaders. There are many ways to learn Dunamancy. I don’t need your stupid rock.”

“Beacon. It is not a rock.” Essek corrected.

“Whatever. I do not need it.” The young man was handsome, to be sure, even half-dressed and beaten.  Perhaps if he made himself useful, Essek would ask for him to be kept as a toy.  He suffered so beautifully after all.

“Very well. Then tell me, how did you learn such magics? They are not simple.  They require skill, precision, and attention to detail…what did you do to get access to them?”  As he spoke, Essek settled down behind Bren, and pulled out a long, thin silver rod. It was pointed at the end, but not sharp enough to cut. Bren only laughed, not seeing the instrument.

“Why, Shadowhand…I simply watched you.” he said, a wry smile breaking across his face.  At least, he smiled for a moment, before Essek pierced the blunt needle into Bren’s foot, drawing out a sharp scream.

“Ah! So you can still feel pain down there, wonderful.” Essek cooed, as he continued to play. Every poke and prod, every line that the Shadowhand dug into Bren’s foot, the Scourger screamed.  To him, it felt like the sharpest, hottest knife being dragged across him, the numbness somehow only making the pain worse. Tears began to prick at his eyes as he struggled, wrenching his shoulders even further as he did.

“Halten! Bitte…bitte, halten!” he cried, all hold on Common leaving him as he suffered, Essek made no move to slow down.  He simply began to trail the needle higher, up and down his calves, even pausing to dig into the heel of Bren’s hand. Such a simple tool, with no lasting damage, and yet like this is caused so much pain. So much beautiful, wonderful pain.  If he was honest with himself? Essek knew he could listen to this all day, not even bothering to ask Bren any questions. But, he had a task to complete, so he slowed the assault for a moment.

“Hm?” he asked, his tone casual. “Did you have something to say, boy?”

“Ja…ja…the beacon…it is…Master Ikithon has it.” Bren admitted breathlessly. “The Archmage of Civil Influence…he and…and the Martinet they…they do things with it but I have not seen it, I swear!” Essek teased at Bren’s big toe with the needle, eliciting another yelp. “Ah! I swear! I…I have not seen it! I was not kidding about watching you I have been spying for…for months. I am…clever…can hide myself well. I…learned from watching you.”

“My my. Clever dog, aren’t you.” Essek mused. “Perhaps I will have some use for you after all.  But first…I would like to keep playing awhile.”

When the Shadowhand returned to his ministrations with the needle, Bren screamed once more.  The halls of the Dungeons of Penance echoed with it for hours, until he was hoarse and could only sob. It was then, and only then, that Essek finally left him alone, bound in his cell in the dark. 

Hopefully, he had learned his lesson.