#but at the cost that when she meets the end of her rope - there is no afterlife for her or reincarnation

[seaofserene]

How she become a siren? Was that apart of the reverse 'healing'.

yep! more or less. she started heavily leaning into that vitality sapping ability she discovered. the thing about that though is when she does that, she essentially takes that person's life force and uses it to suspend her own, prolonging her immortality, which is a complete abuse of the gifts their deity allowed this civilization to have. it prevents that life essence from flowing into the next. as a result, she became actually cursed. now, she can't stop doing it - because if she does, she will deteriorate into nothing, and so will her 'soul'.

the uh.. siren thing? a callback to her talent with singing - that became something she developed into another power under her belt (hypnotizing people with her voice). i'll be honest, she's probably more of a vampire than an actual siren with the way she's developed since i conceptualized her, but ah well. serenity the siren just has a certain ring to it.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I'm Irish but work for a UK based company. The English treat us the way that architecture lady did ALL THE TIME. Literally don't bother to know basic things like when our bank holidays are, what relevant laws and industry practices are different in Ireland vs England, we've been assigned HR people who don't know anything about Irish employment law, given 'benefits' we couldn't use because we weren't in the UK, hosted in-person meetings in our offices where English guests keep saying 'here in the UK', we get paid less because instead of adjusting our wages to euro they just changed out the pound sign for a euro sign in our contracts, they refuse to let us use local suppliers for office supplies etc so everything takes longer to arrive and costs more than it does for the rest of the company, during a recent rebrand we were refused a budget for (legally required) Irish-language signage, the list goes on and on.

The irony is that because of the nature of our work we have constant meetings and workshops about acceptance of different nationalities and learning not to discriminate but if we try bringing up how we're discriminated against we get laughed at.

We have colleagues in an office in Scotland who get similar treatment so at least there's some solidarity there, but it's exhausting. It feels like we're fighting a constant battle. And the response we always get to complaints is just 'oh oops silly us' if we get any at all.

English entitlement is very very real and I don't blame you for reaching the end of your rope with that woman.

Oh Jesus Christ that sounds exhausting. And yeah, very familiar. Wales often gets included with the English south west when companies try to do countrywide provision, and what really stands out is the utter lack of consideration or respect for the language and bilingual signage, and Welsh road infrastructure not allowing easy or cheap travel in the same way. "Everyone get to Bristol for this meeting" is far, far harder for mid and north Wales than anywhere else. Plus, getting called a Taffy just casually. Super fun.

My sister used to work for a nationwide charity, actually, based in London. She took over as the organiser for their eight nationwide conferences a year. And the people in the Welsh, Scottish and Northern Irish offices loved her, because she was the first one in years who remembered that they existed, and made an effort to get the conferences to them at least SOME of the time; and the English offices complained each time she did. They thought four should be London (it's easiest to get to!), three in northern England (that's diversity!), and one in Northern Ireland (different landmass so begrudgingly accepted every other year) was reasonable.

Gah. Frustrating as fuck.

[mactavsh]

Follow the Bird [John “Soap” MacTavish x Reader] Part Two

part one here // also on ao3

It wasn't unusual for a mission to go sideways, hell you'd grown to expect it at times. Going into an op alone was dangerous, but you knew the boys had your back. Soap would fight his way to you no matter the cost.  

Warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of blood/injuries

As soon as he heard Igor use your callsign Soap wanted to leap off the roof. “She’s been made.” He chambered a bullet as he looked at you through his scope.

“Steady, Soap. Ready to fire on her signal.” Ghost’s voice was calm despite the situation unfolding. Just then they watched the lights flicker revealing everyone in the room to be soldiers.

“Fuck she’s a sitting duck in there, Lt.” Soap spoke nervously. He watched as you began fighting, go time.

“Weapons free, Soap.” Ghost spoke as they both began picking soldiers off one by one. Metal covers eventually came down over the widows blocking you from their view. “Time to move.” Ghost’s voice was urgent.

Soap swore as he stood, “It was a fuckin’ trap. How the hell did this happen?” He ran to the fire escape, climbing down as quickly as he could.

“Not sure, ‘ave to have a chat with Price. Meet me at the side entrance we go in together.” Ghost instructed.

When Soap got to the side of the building Ghost was already there. They nodded to each other and breached preparing for a firefight. To their surprise, there was none. The reception hall was entirely empty. They quickly cleared the backrooms, kitchen, and every nook of the building until they ended up back in the reception hall.

“Damn it!” Soap yelled as he kicked an overturned chair next to him. An additional noise accompanied the scraping of the chair and he looked down noticing your knife. Ghost stood silently as Soap picked up your knife. “She’s gone.”

A small pool of blood caught Ghost’s eye as he moved around Soap and toward a table. As he approached he realized, to his dismay, the pool was larger than he thought. Soap noticed Ghost’s movement and followed suit, noticing the pool as well.

“D’ya think that’s hers?” Soap asked though he knew most likely what the answer was. There was no dead body near it.

Ghost didn’t reply, kneeling down to inspect something by the blood. He pulled out his knife and propped one of the floorboards up. Noting a small skull akin to his mask etched faintly into the wood. He reached his hand in the space under where the board was, pulling out the drive. “That’s our girl.” Ghost spoke as he showed the drive to Soap before placing it safely in his vest.

“Great we have the drive, they have her. No one wins.”

Ghost stood, facing Soap. “We’ll find her, Johnny. Tear the city apart if we ‘ave to.”

–

Price flew in with Gaz as soon as Ghost called him. Soap pinned Price to the wall when he entered the safe house, his anger and worry boiling over when he saw the Captain. Turns out, Price was just as angry as he was, he had no idea his informant was compromised by Makarov. Soap released him immediately.

Price adjusted his vest and placed a hand on Soap’s shoulder. “I won’t rest until she is safe.”

It took two days. None of them slept. They finally found one of the safehouses Makarov used below a decrepit building in St. Petersburg. There was one stairwell to the basement, the four men slowly descended weapons at the ready.

Gaz opened the door as they breached making quick work of each soldier in the room. Once the main room was clear they turned their attention to the only other door. Soap cracked the door slowly, no one came out to attack so he pushed it open. As he did enough light shone in that he could now see you. Covered in blood you were being held above the ground by your tied hands. A gunshot wound to your shoulder and thigh were accompanied by many cuts left untreated and bleeding freely.

Soap moved into the room quickly cutting the ropes and laying you down. “Y/n?” He tried to gently shake you awake to no avail. Anxiety bubbled in his chest as he looked you over. That was when he noticed a note tucked into the remnants of your dress. He took it out and handed it to Price. “Sir, look at this.”

Price grabbed the note reading it over. “Bastard,” he crumbled the paper, tossing it aside. “He’s fuckin’ with us.”

“This whole thing was just, what? Makarov gettin’ bored?” Gaz spoke in anger.

“Bastard will pay for that.” Ghost's tone was final as he moved toward Soap. “Johnny,” He placed a hand on the Sergeant's shoulder. “Let's get her out of here.”

Soap nodded. He picked you as gently as he could, mindful of your injuries. He held you close to his chest, at this moment you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

–

Once they determined you were stable enough they all flew back to base. As soon as they landed you were whisked away by a team of medics. Soap immediately tried to follow only for Ghost to stop him. “Let them do their work, she’s in good hands.” Ghost assured his friend.

The pair waited outside the room you were in for hours. Medics worked deftly to ensure all your wounds were tended to and free of infection. After debriefing Price and Gaz joined as well.

“Turns out Makarov didn't plan on the cockiness of Igor.” Price spoke as he sat down garnering the attention of everyone. “The drive’s legit. Igor wasn’t supposed to bring it with him, but he must've figured there was no way a woman would outsmart ‘im. The drive is full of information; safehouse locations and the like.” Price smiled, his guilt lifting only slightly. “We can start dismantling his operation, piece by piece.”

Just as the Captain finished, the doctor came out of your room. Soap stood up fast, anxiously waiting for the doctor to speak.

“She lost a lot of blood but is stable now. She’ll need some physical therapy for the shoulder but otherwise, she’ll be back to full health in no time.”

Soap breathed for what felt like the first time in a week. “Can I see her?”

“Absolutely, she is asleep for now but should wake in a few hours. There are some spare chairs inside.” The doctor spoke before leaving to attend to other patients.

Soap entered the room first, slowly approaching your bedside. You had always been smaller than all the men on the task force but in this hospital bed, he couldn't believe how fragile you looked. He knew better of course and if you were awake the comment would've earned him a sharp elbow in the ribs. The beeping of the heart monitor reassured him you were alive.

Ghost approached the other side of your bed staring for a moment before taking one of the chairs nearby. Gaz did the same, taking a seat in the back of the room. Price was the last to come in. He approached slowly, verifying for himself that you were in fact alive. Gently he placed a hand on your shoulder and whispered an apology only you could hear. After that Price took his leave saying something about paperwork.

Soap finally sat down pulling his chair as close to the bed as he could. The three men all settled down for the night. Gaz was out cold, hat tipped over his eyes. Ghost was reading a book and Soap really wasn’t sure what pocket he pulled it out of. He rested his arms down on your bed, looking at you one last time. He watched you breathe for a few moments before setting his head down. Sleep finally caught up to him after the ordeal of the past few days.

–

Gentle beeping slowly woke you. Opening your eyes the dull lights of the infirmary were welcome as they adjusted. Taking in the room around you, you first noticed Soap’s head on the bed next to you. Deep bags around his eyes told you he hadn’t slept for days. Slowly you brought your hand up to lay on top of his. He stirred slightly at the touch and you smiled to yourself.

Looking around again you noticed Gaz. His hat had fallen into his lap and his head was dipped forward, sound asleep. Finally, your eyes landed on Ghost. He was reading a book, the cover something you couldn't quite make out from where you were laying.

“What’re you reading?” You spoke quietly trying not to wake the other men in the room.

He looked up at you staring for a moment before standing and setting his book aside. He approached the side of your bed quietly. Finally, he spoke. “The Hobbit.”

You stifled a laugh. “Nerd.”

He shrugged. “I wanted to know why everyone seemed to like Tolkein’s works.”

“They are fantastic books.” You paused realizing the soreness in your legs. “Can you help me up?”

“Not sure the doc would approve.”

You sat up slowly, careful not to wake Soap. Bringing your legs over the edge of the bed you looked at Ghost. “You gonna tattle on me?”

“Nope.” Came his reply as he offered his arm to you. You stood cautiously and grabbed his offered arm, now noticing your other arm was in a sling. He picked up on this and used his free hand to grab your IV pole. “Where to?”

You shrugged. “Just need to stretch my legs.”

The two of you did a slow lap around the infirmary. It was late so not many people were around but you did earn some disapproving looks from medics as you passed them by. You stopped for a brief break as your leg wound demanded. You two walked in silence for the most part but during this break, Ghost spoke, “I’m glad you’re okay. Think Soap would've lost his mind if we hadn't found you”

“Thanks, Simon.” He didn’t typically let people call him by his name but he made the occasional exception for a select few.

Falling back into a comfortable silence you both rounded the corner back into the hallway where your room was. Just as you did you heard a commotion, then Gaz and Soap burst through the door. Frantic looks on their faces before their eyes settled on you and Ghost at the end of the hallway.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Gaz breathed out putting his hand on his chest. “Scared the shit outta us, Bird!”

Before you could reply, Soap was running at you. As soon as he was close enough he grabbed onto you. Hugging you like you would disappear any second. Ghost took this as his queue and walked to where Gaz was, dragging the oblivious man back into the room to give you both some privacy.

You gratefully returned the hug, basking in the warmth he radiated.

“Thought I’d lost you.” He spoke, his chin resting atop your head and he never wanted to leave this moment.

“Not getting rid of me that easy, MacTavish.”

He pulled back taking in every detail of your face. “Fuck it.” He said before leaning in to kiss you. Slow at first and when you didn't pull away he deepened it. Years of pent-up feelings hitting you both at once. You reached up your good hand to cup his cheek as you kissed. Stopping to breathe the two of you brought your foreheads together, savoring the moment.

“I’ve wanted to do that for years.” You spoke into the small space between you.

“Me too.” He laughed, pulling you back into a hug. All the pieces were finally in place and he couldn’t be happier.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

could you do a Clea Strange x Fem reader prompt 8 <3

Hey, thanks for the request! Yes, I haven’t written for Clea yet, but she’s such a badass. I added some enemies to lovers vibes 😏

Fight Me ~Clea Strange xFem Reader

Mommy…Master List

Prompt-List

#8. “Fuck you.” “That’s what I’m trying to do...”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, strap fucking, enemies to lovers, cheating, degrading kink, mistress kink…?, mommy kink…?

Enjoy (;

Ever since Master Strange’s journey off into the multiverse, he had been with Clea.

He had brought her back to New York Sanctum, where she lived.

All to your dismay.

You worked with Strange, almost like his second in command. You were a very skilled sorceress, who had been training for years.

But Clea didn’t seem to give a shit about any of that. She didn’t seem to give a shit about any of the Sanctum customs, and that pissed you off. Hell, she just pissed you off.

She was rude, arrogant, snarky and overall just a bitch.

You avoided her at all cost.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid her all the time…

You were doing your mourning physical training session, when Clea waltzed into the training room.

“What exactly are you doing…?” She said with a bite, watching you amusingly.

You were practicing your balance with a wooden stick. Balance was extremely important for a sorcerer. Balance of the body. Balance of the mind.

You huffed annoyed, having lost your concentration, “Not that it matters in the slightest to you but I’m practicing my balance.” you bit back.

Clea snarked back, “How is balance ever going to help you in battle? Aren’t there more important things to know like I don’t know, how to fight??”

You groaned at her impossible nature.

“No really. I don’t think you and your “balanced” self could beat me in a fight.” Clea quipped.

“Oh really?” you snarked back.

And that’s how you ended up having a full on fight with Clea.

Right there in the training room.

You got a few good swings to her, and her swings were just as brutal.

It got heated quickly.

You were using conjured ropes to aid you, Clea had picked up her full on sword.

You went to bind her feet together, but she caught you off guard, smashing you into the nearby wall and pressing her sword harshly against your neck.

“Surrender.” Clea tauntingly commanded.

“Fuck you.” You spat out in response.

Clea’s eyes lit up with something else, something darker as she chuckled, “That’s what I’m trying to do...”

Before you could even process her words, her lips were clashing onto yours.

It was a breathless, passionate, hate filled fight for dominance.

Clea pressed her sword into your neck harder, eliciting a whimper of defeat from your lips.

“Oh my… Does someone like knife play…?” Clea tauntingly mused into your lips, as she tongue fucked your mouth.

“Just… fuck…” you chocked out.

“What was that?” She tauntingly purred.

“Fuck me. Please.” You panted, breathless from her ravaging your mouth.

Clea hummed with delight.

You quickly portalled the two of you into your private room.

“Strip. On the bed.” She directed you.

You followed without a second thought.

It just felt so natural… so right…

“So someone can follow directions?” Clea sarcastically quipped, as you kneeled on your bed, fully naked.

“Please…” you whimpered.

Clea grinned at your begging.

She crawled onto the bed to meet you. It was only then that you noticed that she had attached a massive strap onto herself.

Your eyes widened and you gulped at the sight.

“Spread your legs for me.” Clea snarled.

You followed her words.

Clea then positioned her dick right at your throbbing pussy and stayed there.

You whined and bucked your hips in need of friction.

Clea chuckled at your antics, “Beg. Beg for it. Beg me to fuck you dumb.”

“God Clea please!!” you immediately began to whimper, mewl, and beg, “Shit! Please fuck me! Fuck me so hard…!”

At that, she thrusted into you, eliciting a cry from your lips. She gave you no time to adjust, rather just began pounding into you mercilessly.

Tears were running down your face, your nails were scratching the flesh available on her back. Your screams filled the room.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!!” You cried out desperately.

“Already so soon…?” She tauntingly purred, “You must be so soaked and needy for me…”

You desperately nodded and mewled, “please… god… wanna cum…!!”

“Go on Then.”

Your walls clenched around her dick, as you screamed her name, eyes blinded through your orgasmic high.

When Clea pulled out of you, you were limp and completely breathless.

Clea chuckled at the sight of you.

She then whispered into your ear, “Be a good girl and we can do this again…”

Then she got up to leave.

“What about Strange?” you asked, having completely forgotten about him in your lust clouded mind.

“Be a Good Girl and he’ll never find out how much of a whore you are.” She purred in response, leaving you a fucked up mess…

[archonsoflove]

Ships included in order of appearance:

Tartaglia / Zhongli

Cyno / Tighnari

Alhaitham / Kaveh

Il Dottore / Pantalone

Zhongli / Reader

Tartaglia / Reader

This is a long one! I'll be updating it regularly as I read more that I enjoy ~

exodus 20:3: you shall have no other gods before me (Explicit)

Childe finds out that the alcohol in Liyue is a force to be reckoned with. It leads to much more than just a hangover.

ajax's adventures with Dog-Lizard (Fluff)

That’s got to be the weirdest looking dog Ajax has ever seen in his life.

after hours (Explicit)

A man is approaching him with a bundle of hardware, straps, and coiled ropes in his arms. He’s wearing a tailored suit — definitely expensive — but missing a tie, and his shirt is unbuttoned far enough for Zhongli to see a nasty set of scars that run across his chest.

He’s very attractive, a little intimidating, and not at all what he’d imagine an accountant would look like-

law and order (Explicit, ft. Neuvilette)

This can’t be the accountant, can it?

There seems to be more than meets the eye when it comes to the Chief Justice and the God of Contracts. A simple trip to Fontaine with Ajax for a vacation turns into something more than they both anticipated.

ceci n’est pas la perfection (Explicit)

After Zhongli asks Childe to marry him, Childe panics and runs away to Fontaine to sort out his feelings. Rejected and confused, Zhongli chases after him to try to understand why.

contractual obligation (Explicit, ft. Lumine)

“You drew up a contract for what?” Lumine stares at her lunchtime companions, jaw working, no further words coming out. When she’d received an invitation to lunch from Zhongli, she hadn’t expected much.

fishbowl:heaven (Suggestive, Angst)

Childe, a world-class professional runner, is reeling from a diagnosis with a terminal heart condition. Stuck in bed with a failing heart, he can’t run, travel, or do anything that gave him purpose before. His career and life appear to be over.

To help him adjust, the doctors prescribe Childe virtual reality therapy. He doesn’t expect much to come of it until he meets a mysterious fellow patient, Zhongli.

etched in stone (Explicit, Fluff, Slice of Life)

I Lie Awake In The Night Just To See Another Dawn (Explicit)

A trip through the ages as Zhongli and Childe learn what it means to love each other.

Childe has returned to Snezhnaya, Liyue has moved on from Osial's reawakening. But war on the borders lying between Fontaine and the land of ice looms ominously on the horizon. While war seems inevitable, and politics begin to shift, Zhongli knows he will follow Childe to the ends of the earth, even if it costs him the highest price.

old instincts die hard (Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)

Is the life of one mortal worth the death of a God?

After spending the greater part of his life all too used to the threat of a blade being drawn against him, Childe has learned not to trust a hand raised toward him, lest it seek to strike while his defenses are lowered. But now in a fresh relationship with Zhongli, he finds his old instincts standing in the way of enjoying something more with the man he's come to adore.

Childe's guide on what to do when your lover turns into a pint-sized dragon overnight (Fluff, Humour)

red thread (Explicit)

When Childe and Zhongli first began their relationship, Childe thought he was prepared for whatever Zhongli might throw at him. Draconic heats, Adepti courtship rituals, scales - he was ready for anything. However, waking up next to a tiny, chubby dragon was not something he thought he’d have to consider.

Childe's face burns. “Zhongli,” he hisses. “This is the theatrical performance you wanted me to attend?”

red heart, orange sun (Explicit, ABO dynamics)

wait, is this play about us? (Explicit)

Four occasions that make Childe’s heart race, for a variety of reasons.

dragonheart (Fluff, Implied MPreg)

Zhenyu's next best-selling light novel has finally arrived in Inazuma! Childe definitely was not expecting to star as the main protagonist when he picked up the new collection, though...

a wasp in every fig (Explicit)

A tsmok of the north meets a dragon of the east.

venus caelestis (Explicit, NSFW Art)

Zhongli tries something different, and Childe is a very, very good boy.

the heart beats in its cage (Explicit, Angst)

childe hasn't spoken to zhongli in 3 weeks, but through the misfortune of becoming afflicted by an aphrodisiac, he finds himself at zhongli's door in search of help

an age of gods and monsters (Mature)

“So, pretend I’m her. Just for the night, one night, you can have her back.” Childe curled his fingers into the front of Zhongli’s shirt. He hoped he sounded self-assured, not desperate.

my all (Explicit, Angst)

When Liyue faces an inevitable catastrophe, Childe finds himself back in the past to retrieve the Gnosis that Zhongli has lost. Perhaps if he returns to the present with it, both Liyue and its Archon can be saved.

tame the thunderclouds (Explicit)

Childe asks Zhongli for one last dinner before leaving Liyue. Zhongli accepts.

more espresso, less depresso (Fluff)

it is a privileged sight for zhongli, to bind the eleventh harbinger and force him to his knees.

set in stone (Explicit)

There's a quaint little coffee shop that catches Childe's eye as soon as soon as he arrives into town. The man that works inside is more exhilarating than any drink Childe has ever tasted.

promises and proposals (Explicit)

What do you do when you write about a certain six thousand year old consultant so much in your letters that it somehow convinces your entire family you're not only dating each other, but that you're also engaged?

lithic oath (Explicit, ABO dynamics)

Childe and Zhongli have been happily dating for nearly a year, and they’re just as in love as ever. Zhongli is perfectly satisfied with the state of their relationship, but an unexpected development between two of his closest friends spurs him to consider his future plans with Childe. And just maybe he’ll need to pick out a ring one of these days.

as the sun gazes upon the moon (Explicit)

Liyue Harbor is the last place on Teyvat that Ajax wanted to see a second time, but the Tsaritsa's orders are absolute.

Childe is lost to the abyss for a week.

calm my head (Explicit)

hook, line, and sinker (Explicit)

Zhongli wants to try something new, and Childe would simply agree to anything when he's caught between his thighs.

off the record (Explicit)

Childe once saw a glimpse of his nerdy Uni roommate Zhongli, and it was over for him. Cue the pining, the moping, the fucking around to forget the sight of those rock-hard abs hidden underneath those sweater vests. Just one problem: Zhongli thinks exactly the same.

stone endures, and the tide will always return (Explicit)

An important meeting is coming up. A last minute change radically alters Zhongli's plans.

the fox of feiyun slope (Explicit)

The cobblestones of Liyue Harbor have been replaced by asphalt, the buildings by sleek skyscrapers and storefronts. Rex Lapis is a figure in the history books, nothing more, and the Harbinger Tartaglia is barely more than a footnote in his long and storied legacy. No one believes in the old Archons anymore.

night time; tea leaves; good company (Explicit)

A certain fondness for a client was good; it made the job easier and the quality of the work more genuine. Zhongli had never once gotten attached. He didn’t expect this boy to be the first.

frame the wallflower (explicit)

Lonely nights are best spent over pots of tea in good company. In terms of tea, Zhongli already knows what he likes. In terms of company - he makes a discovery.

Childe, a young CEO of the multi-billion dollar company “Fatui”, is dealing with more inappropriate gestures and remarks in regards to him being single than he cares for. Zhongli, a consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Home, is going through a financial crisis, with every possible liability hitting him at once.

wrapped up in pure gold (Fluff)

When ranting to each other over drinks one night, they come to the most absurd solution to both of their problems: pose Zhongli as Childe’s boyfriend and sugar baby, just until everything settles, of course. Childe has more than enough money to spare, Zhongli doesn’t mind helping a friend in need, and their arrangement is flawless. At least, it appears to be that way.

nodus tollens (Explicit)

Childe accidentally proposes to Zhongli. Zhongli accepts.

one of us dies tomorrow (Explicit, Angst)

In all his years in the Fatui, Childe has never had problems following through with his archon’s orders. That is, until The Tsaritsa sends him his final mission--to leave Snezhnaya and marry the Geo Archon, Rex Lapis.

swore to stone and spoken (Explicit, ABO dynamics)

Tomorrow, Tartaglia will take Rex Lapis's gnosis or die trying. Today, Childe gets a final chance to tell Zhongli how he feels. No misunderstandings, no betrayal, and no doubts.

erosion (Mature)

It's been some time since the whole "nearly destroying Liyue" thing. Zhongli has decided he wants their pair-bond to be mutual and asks Childe to mark him. Childe has an existential crisis.

slow embers (Fluff)

There are two things that make Childe who he is--one is his Archon, with her icy fingers and arctic voice and eyes that see into every part of him. The other, as it turns out, is Zhongli.

why does my baba call my teacher baobei? (Explicit, Fluff)

Childe returns. He and Zhongli go on a food tour.

“Guili… over here!” a gentle velvety voice rings through the huddle of parents greeting their children.

man i love fishing (Explicit, Comedy)

Guili perks up at the sound, screaming “dada” and drags Childe towards the most ethereal man he’s ever laid his eyes on.

before it winds down into memories (Explicit, Angst)

Childe’s disastrously down-bad for the MILF next door.

pick me up, take me home (Fluff, Angst)

Childe has his doubts, but Zhongli reminds him that he’s loved.

ganymede (Explicit, Comedy)

Zhongli and Childe finally reunite, but Zhongli didn't expect his beloved to arrive bearing injuries instead of a long-awaited embrace.

“Can we get a room with two beds for the night?” Zhongli asked.

phantom lines (Explicit, Fluff)

She looked through her book of reservations before furrowing her brow. “I’m sorry, gentleman, but the only room I have left is our Honeymoon Suite.”

some kind of resurrection (Explicit, Comedy)

In which Childe has insomnia, vandalizes public property and runs into a mysterious funeral consultant on his first night in Liyue.

between the raging tides (Explicit, Hurt/Comfort)

After overhearing a fascinating story about an obscure temple tucked into some corner of Liyue Harbor, Childe had only meant to have a little fun at Zhongli's expense; he'd earned at least that much after the Osial Incident. Unfortunately for Childe, his track record at outmaneuvering Zhongli isn't exactly stellar.

i wake with your memory over me (Explicit, Reincarnation)

“Isn’t this backwards, Morax?” There’s a mocking edge to Childe’s tone. “Since when do gods get on their knees?”

the white cicada society (Explicit)

Zhongli has lived, died, and remade himself eight times when he sees him again.

The murders aren’t limited to the one Bank. They’ve been trailing down the Liyue border, getting closer and closer to the city. The Tsaritsa has a new mission for him: to figure out who, or what is targeting Fatui forces.

divine intervention (Explicit)

Against his best wishes, Childe is forced to see Zhongli again at the morgue. It becomes clear that he’s going to need a guide, and Childe resolves to quash his pride, and their differences to request his help to navigate Liyue and solve the case.

jade without blemish (Explicit, Mutual Pining)

“The only thing that can counter the mark of an Abyss Lector is the essence of an archon,” Zhongli explains, not meeting Childe’s eyes.

a kiss to show my sincerity (Mature, Fluff)

The Emperor and Empress of Liyue were known throughout Teyvat as a loving and powerful couple. But behind closed doors, it was all an act. Needless to say, a certain Snezhnayan diplomat's trip to Liyue did not go as planned.

“Childe?” Zhongli walks over. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” he croaks, pretending he didn’t think that Zhongli looked outrageously pretty in his clothes.

“Your face is red. Have you fallen ill?”

introspection (Fluff)

“No, no, no. I’m fine. I’m peachy. ” He says, like a liar.

"Ah... a lizard."

As far as stupid things that Childe has said through his life, this easily contended for the top position on the list.

between dreams and nightmares (Angst, Mutual Pining)

A dragon. This was a dragon. Which is arguably also a lizard.

What I Cannot Put into Words, I Offer You in the Weight of Gold (Angst, Pining, Fluff)

When the Abyss clings onto a person, it follows—and in this case, it follows Childe to his station in Liyue, leaving three of his companions with a puzzling missing person’s case and, for Zhongli, unresolved feelings that weigh on his old soul, alongside a series of strange dreams.

meteor shower (Explicit)

Childe processes just how different Rex Lapis, God of Contracts, and Zhongli, Wangsheng Funeral Consultant, really are. They coincide at the worst of times, and it does some truly awful things to his heart.

How would it feel to fall in love again? To be held, live in the present, and enjoy a mortal life?

Care to Learn More About Wangsheng Funeral Services? (Explicit, Comedy)

If only a God could ever experience such pleasures and luxuries. They are short-lived and not worth it. At least that's what Zhongli had thought until he truly tried it. But the past will always come back to hunt the God. Happiness truly is a luxury.

the autumn winds are sighing (Angst, SickFic, Fluff)

“Zhongli…” Childe whispered as quietly as he could, which wasn’t hard due to the shock of the situation. It figured that between getting married to an Archon, becoming immortal, and having to deal with three other Archons circling around their business that it would be Zhongli’s fully mortal employer that would really pull the rug out from underneath his feet. “Did you agree to let Hu Tao give a commercial for the funeral parlor at our wedding?”

It’s been two months since the storm, and Childe hasn’t seen Zhongli not even once, not since that fateful meeting with the Signora where the truth is finally unveiled.

the world is water (Explicit)

And what a fun little kick to the gut that is, the realization that not only had he been played by all sides, but he's also being tossed aside like trash now that his use had run its course.

Childe doesn't visit Zhongli until it's almost too late.

andante, andante (Fluff)

a cheating man's bouquet (Explicit)

higher education, falling in love, and genius invokation tcg. not necessarily in that order.

you're exactly what i need (Explicit)

a married man flirts with tighnari at the flower shop so cyno decides to put the man in his place the next day.

verdant304 (Explicit)

after sparring with Alhaitham, Tighnari tends to Cyno's bruises

After being pushed into a corner, Tighnari takes unsolicited advice from his university project partner Alhaitham and tries to sell lewd pictures of himself on the internet. That was the idea anyway, in practice he can't take a good picture to save his life.

a cure for denial (Explicit, ABO dynamics)

Luckily, his estranged roommate Cyno has a knack for taking really good pictures...

scientific curiosity (Explicit)

Tighnari asked for help dealing with his heat after being on suppressants for ten years. Cyno was more than willing to assist.

Led by the prospect of an exciting botanical discovery, Tighnari heads into the Avidya Forest and invites Cyno along. Little do they know just what kind of discoveries await them there.

i'll show you every version of yourself tonight (Explicit)

“When we have sex, you like to call me things,” Kaveh continues, trailing off into a whisper.

Alhaitham props his cheek on a hand, looking only slightly amused with where this is going. “What things?”

dancing in the refrigerator light at 2am (Explicit, Hurt/Comfort)

“Like… like, pretty– and such.” Kaveh’s pout deepens into a frown. “Do you mean it?”

tracing other people's poetry (Explicit)

The people of Sumeru are granted dreams, and Kaveh is given nightmares. Now, Alhaitham does whatever he can to help quiet down Kaveh's mind in any way he can.

Three or Four (Or Possibly Five) Easy Steps to Living Harmoniously With Your Roommate (Fluff, Comedy)

Alhaitham has yet to identify this feeling that resides in his chest, this heavy and all-consuming, unpredictable feeling, whenever Kaveh is involved. He wants to open himself up and crack his ribs into tiny chucks, to remove them from their places and peer inside his heart so that he may finally learn what lives here.

in a language he understands (Fluff, Angst)

Kaveh devises a plan to get Alhaitham to smile by being aggressively nice to the man (and also maybe if he makes Alhaitham happy, he can score a discount on his rent or something). Alhaitham thinks Kaveh ate some mind-altering mushrooms and is, understandably, confused and mildly afraid.

Kaveh used to think that Alhaitham had mastered the art of ignoring him. The man would remain unflappable as he continued to read his worn copy of The Origins of Enkanomiyan Language, even when Kaveh was a hair’s breadth away from shattering the windows of their house with his severity of pitch.

No amount of screaming, threats to throw things, or violently waving in front of him could get Alhaitham to pause in his thirst for knowledge. As it turns out, Alhaitham literally just turns his hearing aids off so he doesn’t have to listen to Kaveh.

Romantistique (Explicit, Fluff, Angst)

It’s for this exact reason that Kaveh has decided to learn Sumerian Sign Language.

ships in the night (Explicit)

As it turns out, the journey to falling in love is a long one.

between you and me, the universe slips by (Explicit)

Kaveh is tasked with securing the funding for Kshahrewar from the Acting Grand Sage. Things get complicated.

mortise & tenon (Explicit)

A month ago, Kaveh appeared, disrupting Alhaitham’s quiet life and became his roommate. In less than a week, Kaveh left the house in anger. When he returned, it was the night of Alhaitham’s birthday. A year later, Alhaitham will celebrate his birthday again. This is a story that takes place within the span of a year and a few months. A story where Kaveh finds a grandmother’s unfinished wish, completes it for her grandson, and finds love again.

forbidden fruits of knowledge (Explicit)

Beautiful, he wants to say, the word saccharine on the tip of his tongue. His initial assumptions are false—no marble pillar can shiver as beautifully as this miracle of flesh and muscles and tendons, wonderfully reactive. Kaveh wants to take him apart, unravel the threads of his relentless rationality until nothing remains of him but this humanity, all this softness that does not quite fit right with the rest of him.

Kaveh bites the inside of his cheek, his head full of images of all the possible positions a man can lie with another. It’s unsettling how vividly he can recall the pleasure of something he’s never done.

he talks the talk alright (Explicit)

He really should have known better than to use a suspicious knowledge capsule. Much less one called The Arts of Men: Advanced Techniques Vol. 1. What was he thinking?

Alhaitham tinkers with a pair of Akasha terminals. While Kaveh is away in the desert for a project, they use the devices to indulge a little.

discordant intervals (Mature)

the art of drowning (Explicit)

Dottore sulks during a celebratory banquet. In his enduring generosity, Pantalone offers him something to complain about—the threat of a good time.

After a gruesome mission, Dottore knows just what Pantalone needs. It goes without saying that relaxing is hardly the right word to describe the events that transpire.

exuvia (Explicit)

i am all your sweetest tunes (explicit)

His heat did not come around often and both of you took the opportunity to indulge in this fleeting time for as long as you could.

as gold as the ginko trees (Explicit, Plot Heavy)

Zhongli has been with many partners throughout the long years of his existence, humans and adepti and archons of all genders and backgrounds. But you...you’re unlike any he’s ever laid eyes on. He can’t get enough of the taste of your skin, or the way you blossom under his touch. It’s intoxicating.

Life at the monastery has been nothing but peaceful, in no small part due to the protective seal that keeps the village safe. When the shrine holding said seal is destroyed, panic sets in as the village is now in danger of any Archon war aftermath.

The people are desperate for protection, and when Morax makes an appearance in your tiny village, the people are ready to make a deal no matter the cost.

tricks of the trade (Explicit)

tastes like heaven (Explicit)

When an operation goes tits up and you have to flee, you find a handsome young man to help with your get away. When you discover the fact that this handsome young man is not only an enemy agent, but a Fatui Harbinger you find yourself in more danger than you ever could have expected.

Childe is the accomplished one, between the two of you. He’s the one with twenty-three restaurants spread out across Teyvat, sixteen Michelin stars to his name, and a reputation of being Masterchef Teyvat’s toughest judge, despite being the youngest.

All this, and it’s your warmth he’s lapping at like he’s never tasted anything like it.

[whalefairyfandom12]

Sebinis Big Bang

Thank you so much to everyone who contributed their talent and time!! Check out the amazing art and fics below (please mind the respective tags):

on the sea he waits by @gargoylegrave; art by abidolly.

Sebastian moves to Clagmar Coast, and meets an interesting character in Ominis Gaunt. He spends perhaps a touch too much time uncovering all of his secrets, and the cost of doing so is greater than he could have imagined.

Elysium by @the-invisibility-bloke; art by @crime-in-progress

After Azkaban, Sebastian is invited to visit Ominis at Gaunt Manor. Nothing is quite what it seems.

Machine Learning by gimbal_animation; art by gimbal_animation and anonymous

Sebastian Sallow, a mid level programmer at a billion dollar tech company, receives a strange invitation from his enigmatic employer.

Nothing to Fear by brightened; art by @flamboyantjelly

Ancient magic doesn’t cure Anne, but it does ease her suffering. When Anne insists on using her respite to experience as much life as she can, Sebastian chooses to go along for the ride.

i had wondered what was done to you, to give you such a taste for flesh by milkteeths; art by @eleniaelres

About thirteen years or so after Ominis penned Sebastian's absolution letter, nine years after they part ways, and four after Ominis makes a name for himself as a Healer, he gets a call to come back home.

Vendetta's Dance by sunsetplums; art by @celestinawarlock

Ominis Gaunt is tasked with ending Sebastian Sallow. Sebastian Sallow is tasked with ending Ominis Gaunt. Love, possibly, remains caught in the crossfire. Or perhaps not.

Deferred Adoration by clockworksiren; art by anonymous

After many years as a near penniless wretch, Sebastian is finally at the end of his rope and does something drastic, selling himself into a system designed for pariahs like him.

won't you break the chain with me by nigelly; art by @waywardprintmaker

Ominis turned his back on his family a long time ago, building a happy life with Sebastian and a successful career as the head of the Muggle Liaison Office, until one day he gets a letter asking him to accept being the guardian of his brother’s children as his only still living relative while Marvolo is in Azkaban.

The Summer of '92 by @eleniaelres; art by @trappezoider

A love story between Sebastian Sallow, a musician trying to make it in the 90's music scene in London, and Ominis Gaunt, a college student who fled from home to experience what life could be like.

The Language of the Birds by @whalefairyfandom12; art by @mouiface

The Triwizard Tournament has come to Hogwarts, and against all odds, Ominis is selected as the champion. It’s hardly the first cosmic joke from the universe. Deep in the bowels of the castle, something is lurking.

Your Hand by @trappezoider; art by @celerydays

After Anne's death, Sebastian and Ominis have become estranged. However, when Ominis supervises him during one of his detentions, Sebastian realises that what he has for his ex-best friend is more than familial love. Being a proper gentleman (in his own words), what else could Sebastian do other than propose to his newly-lit flame?

Circus Freak by @turntechgoddesshead; art by gimbal_animation

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages! Be thrilled by the horror of what you can only find here at Sallow’s Circus Spectacular! Watch in shock and awe as two childhood friends find hope and forgiveness in one another after two extremely different lives and upbringing.

The Terrifying Luminescence of Hope by @blatantblue; art by @trappezoider

A story of ten years in Azkaban, a hundred coping mechanisms, one deluminator, and two boys in love.

[candycandy00]

The Pirate and the Mermaid - A Shigaraki x Reader Fic Part 3

Final part! Any feedback or comments would be greatly appreciated!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Smut. 18+. Rough sex. Bondage. AU. Shigaraki is a pirate captain. Reader is a mermaid he caught.

After Tomura leaves, you fall asleep in the tub, emotionally and physically drained. You’re not sure how long you were asleep, but when you wake up, you notice a plate sitting on the side of the tub. It has several slices of citrus fruit on it. Did Tomura bring this to you? He must have. You smile to yourself as you eat the slices, reveling in the delicious taste. 

Just as you eat the last slice, you hear voices from the hall. One of them is Tomura. The other is the older man who had called you beautiful and wanted to release you. 

“You can’t hand her over to them,” the man is saying, “you know what they’ll do to her.”

There’s a brief pause, then you hear Tomura say, “No, I don’t know what they’ll do. I didn’t ask.”

“I can tell you,” the older man says. “They‘ll either chop her up so they can study her corpse, or keep her alive and experiment on her. Either way, that sweet, beautiful creature will know nothing but pain and torment.” 

“What do you want me to do?” Tomura demands, his voice sounding sad, almost desperate. “We need that gold! Hana is almost out of medicine. I can’t keep pushing the men to work and steal only to give everything to me while they practically starve!”

There’s another pause, then the older man replies in a softer, gentler tone. “The men understand, lad. They all want to help Hana too. Most of them watched her grow up. Let’s find another way to get the gold.”

“I can’t risk it,” Tomura says, sounding tired. “I can’t give up a solid source of gold. Not when Hana’s life is at stake.”

The conversation ends there, leaving you feeling conflicted and confused. Who is Hana? She’s obviously someone important to Tomura. And he needs the gold to help her. 

You can’t fall back to sleep after that. There’s too much to think about. So you’re wide awake when Tomura and two of his men come in to hang you back up. It’s a familiar process to you now, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

The two men leave first, and Tomura lingers, looking at you, then at the empty plate sitting on the floor. The men had moved it there before dragging the tub away from you. 

“Thank you for the fruit,” you say while you still have some strength. 

He nods, then looks at the floor, as if he doesn’t want to meet your eyes. 

“Who is Hana?” you ask, deciding to have this conversation before you get too weak. 

Tomura’s eyes widen, but he still looks away from your face. “So you heard? I thought you were asleep.”

You don’t reply, saving your oxygen for when he answers your question. 

He sighs and sits down on the box nearby. He runs a hand through his hair and says, “Hana is my sister.”

“And she’s… sick?”

He nods. “She has a rare disease that makes daily life painful. She has to take medicine every day just to tolerate it. But this medicine comes at a high cost.” He looks at you, then his eyes shift to the floor. “A few months ago she ran out of medicine. The pain was so unbearable that she tried to throw herself off a cliff.”

You feel a stab of pain in your heart upon hearing this. You can’t imagine something that horrible happening to someone in your family. But if it did? And you found a way to help them in any way? You’re not sure what you’d be willing to do. 

“I’m… sorry,” you say, feeling your voice growing weaker. 

He glances at you, then looks down again. It’s as if he’s uncomfortable talking about such personal matters. “Hana is the only family I have. Our parents died when we were young. An old pirate captain took us in, paid for Hana’s schooling, taught me to be a pirate, and even gave this ship to me right before he died. But I’ve used up everything he left me trying to pay for Hana’s medicine and keep the men fed. I’m at the end of my rope.”

You think for a moment, then come to a decision. “You can… sell me,” you say, and he looks up sharply before you continue. “Don’t… feel guilty.”

He stands up suddenly, the box loudly scraping the floor. His face looks troubled. “If you heard us talking in the hall then you must have heard the rest of it. The people I’m going to sell you to will kill you, or worse.”

“Still,” you tell him, meeting his gaze, “I want to help.”

For a moment his face twists in pain and frustration. “Why are you always so-“

He stops himself and turns toward the door, putting his hand on the knob. He stands there for a moment, as if warring with himself over something. 

“Tomura?” you ask in a small voice. 

There’s a pause where time seems to stand still. Tomura doesn’t move or make a sound. And then, all at once, he whirls around and rushes back to you, wrapping his arms around you, crushing his lips into yours. 

His kiss is fiery, full of yearning, and his hands move over your body, mapping out every inch. Then he’s slipping off his unbuttoned shirt and unbuckling his belt. When he opens his pants and pulls his cock free, you stare at it in wonder. It’s such a lovely shape, you wish your hands were free so you could touch it. 

He lifts your thighs so that they’re wrapped around his hips, and holds your body up with strong hands. You can feel his tip pressing at your entrance. Your arms are still tied above your head. He can do anything he wants to you and you’re helpless to stop him, but he hesitates, watching your reaction. His face is flushed, his eyes glimmering with desire. 

You squirm in his grip, trying to press yourself against him. “Please, Tomura… take me!”

In answer to your plea, he pushes himself into you. You gasp, feeling just how big human males are. You’ve been wet from the moment he started kissing and groping you, but it’s still a painful stretch. Maybe merfolk and humans are not meant to mate with each other. But it doesn’t matter. You’ll endure anything to be closer to him, to feel him inside you. 

After a minute, you realize Tomura isn’t moving. His voice is strained and breathy as he says, “I’m only halfway in. I can try to stay here and-“

“No!” you cry out, feeling like you’ve just used up all your oxygen. “Please, I want you deeper!”

His eyes shine as a grin spreads across his face. “As you wish.”

He thrusts up into you at the same time that he loosens his grip on you, so that gravity pulls you further down onto his cock. In your mind, you imagine a spear ramming up into you, and you cry out in pain, clenching your entire body. You hear Tomura groan, then he buries his face in your neck, kissing you and then lightly biting your throat. 

Your legs are tightly wrapped around him, keeping you balanced. Your cries shift to moans as he slowly thrusts in and out of you, taking his time to find a rhythm that pleases you. With the position of your bodies, you slightly above him and your own weight pressing you down, he can reach so deeply into you that it feels like he’s filling your entire torso. 

He reaches one hand down between your writhing bodies to find your clit with his fingers. He knows exactly how to touch you by now, exactly how to turn your moans into gasps and shudders. 

“Tomura,” you say, breathing out his name with all your strength, “I love you! I… I’ve always… loved you!”

He lifts his face from your neck to look you in the eyes, and then he’s kissing your mouth again, his tongue swirling around yours. When he breaks the kiss, you draw in a shaky breath. He thrusts harder into you and you cry out again. “Ahhh! So… deep!”

You climax minutes later with tears in your eyes, your body sore and exhausted. Tomura continues his thrusts a little while longer, now having to use both hands to hold you, as your weakened legs have dropped from his waist. Then, his body tenses against yours and you feel his hot seed shoot into your depths. He holds you in place for a few more minutes, making sure he’s completely emptied himself inside you, then he slowly releases you. 

You whine at the pain in your arms as your weight pulls down on them again, and you clench your thighs to try to keep Tomura’s cum from leaking out.  

Tomura pants for a moment, staring at you, and then picks up a bucket of water and splashes it on you. He watches the water drip down your body as he buckles his belt. 

“We’ll be docking tomorrow,” he says, his voice suddenly cold. “The buyer will be waiting there.”

With that, he leaves the room again. You hang limply, too tired to be frightened. You’ve accepted your fate already. At least some good will come of all this. Tomura’s sister will be helped. 

For the first time, you fall asleep while hanging up. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed when Tomura wakes you up. He’s alone, and the tub is nowhere in sight. Is it not time yet? 

He moves closer to you, and you realize he has his knife in one hand. Without a word he reaches up and cuts you free, catching you in his arms before you hit the floor. He eases the both of you down to a sitting position, with you cradled in his lap. He cuts the rope from your wrists, letting them separate at last. You examine your wrists, wincing in pain. They’re bloody and bruised. Tomura glances at then and quickly looks away. 

You look at him with questioning eyes, not sure if you have enough oxygen to speak. Have you already docked? Is the buyer waiting? Is this the last moment you’ll have with him?

He stands up, pulling you up with him and into his arms. “I can’t do it,” he says, his voice quiet. “I can’t lose you.”

Before you can reply, he carries you out of the room and down the hall, then up the steps to the deck. That’s when you realize it’s still nighttime. The sky is black, full of glowing stars and a silver half moon. You haven’t seen the sky in days, and to you it looks magnificent. The breeze feels warm on your skin. You can smell the sea so strongly, you can almost taste the water. It makes tears come to your eyes. You didn’t realize how badly you’d missed it all. 

Tomura carries you to the side of the deck and stops, just holding you. “You can make it back to your home from here, right?”

“Yes, but… why?”

He looks at you sadly. “I’ve searched for you since that day you saved me. Somewhere deep down, I’ve always known you were watching me, waiting for me. Now that I’ve found you, I can’t give you up.”

Tears are leaking down your face. “But… what about… Hana?”

“I’ll find some other way to get the gold.”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Will we… see each other… again?”

He smiles then. “I travel the waters around your home often. I’ll be sure to cast a net every time, in case you feel like being caught by me again.”

You smile back and lean in to kiss him again. It’s a warm, gentle kiss. Then, with no more words needing to be spoken, he lifts you out over the side of the ship, and drops you into the water. 

The sea is dark, but merfolk have exceptional night vision. You feel your strength returning as your gills draw in water, and within minutes you’re swimming away at top speed. Back to your family, back to your home. 

You only stop once to look back. You can just barely see the silhouette of the dark ship against the moonlight. And though you know it’s impossible, you think you see the shape of the ship’s captain, watching you swim away. 

Tag List:

@missrosegold @mushroommanstan @genshinsimpforlif @d3adcrybaby @knyam @tomurashiggybee @08-30-27 @the-silent-sirens-sea @idontevenknowlsjsbsbdj @vampirec0w

[sillyclowncircus]

Oh no, silly brain rot

@o-i-w-u come get some gore

Au where the tsams characters all work at a school- but ya know me, murder murder murder- so uhm- everyone has a small twinge of evil- or a lot

And all the kids are orphans to explain why no one notices kids missing

Ack- murder school

Uuuhm- gore mention besties

Tw: gore, murder, death, children death, esting flesh, EVERYONE IS MURDERERS

Sun does art classes :D he really enjoys painting the most, and red just happens to be his favorite color! And who else but those misbehaving students to provide him with that red paint his loves so much? Whats a little loss of a misbehaving student for the cost of art after all? Besides, hes been teaching these kids for 3 months now! If their art hasnt improved yet, what use are they to him but paint providers?

Moon! Going with that basic bitch science teacher for him. He enjoys science and loves it even! It's such a nice pass time for him, something he can relax while doing! Thats why its so annoying when one of the students have to mess up his relaxation time! How could a student be so stupid to mix ammonia and bleach!? Some students just have to learn by being the victim of their own failed experiments... even if it results in a little death sometimes.

Killcode is a gym teacher. After all, who but the fast predator to be one? Kill code is well aware that he scares the students, and he thrives on that terror. He loves to give students difficult tasks. What does he care that you're getting ropeburn from climbing that 20 foot(about 6 meters, i think-) rope? If you fall, then you best get up and run and keep running til someone else falls, or you're going to find yourself torn to pieces to feed his family and other students.

Earth does both cooking and gardening! She loves planting things! Especially things like Castor Beans, Winter Daphne, and Dendrocnide moroides! She has a love for plants that are dangerous and well... dont be surprised if a Castor Bean seed ends up in your food if you happen to be rude to one of her favorite students. Earth may not like killing, but she does like knowing punishments have been given, even if it results in death. She pften cooks the meat of dead students so it doesn't go to waste. It is a shame to waste such good meat after all... and meat is good plant fertilizer.

Lunar does zoology! He brings animals into the school and lets the students meet them! Who cares if last weeks wolf killed a kid? Not Lunar, he's metal. The wolf couldn't hurt him! The raccoon had rabies, and it bit you? Well, the only way to tell with animals is cutting their head off and sending it to the lab, so say by to your head and off to Moon's lab it goes! And if he so happens to take you outside and into the woods within the schools the 3 miles of fencing? He's just there to feed the animals he keeps, and you happen to be the meal.

Bloodmoon does anatomy! If a body comes in whole, they'd use it to carve ooen and show their class, maybe eat an organ or two. When there's not one? Well... no one is gonna miss that short kid in the back, right? It would be fun to cut open a live one and let their students see a heart pumping, lungs drawing their last breaths.

BM1(Bloody) he especially loves the gore, he personally loves the live students to work on, finding the dead ones boring since they don't squirm and scream. He prides himself in making the students both terrified but intrigued

BM2(Harvest) prefers working on the dead bodies. The struggle of the live ones annoys him, too squirmy, too wriggly. Tho he does hate the cold feeling of the dead bodies, so sometimes he just kills a student the moment they walk in class to have a warm cadaver to work on.

SolarFlare teaches both math and reading. Personally, he doesn't like killing that much... but someone getting answers wrong irks him. He's worked so hard with these students for months, and that can't spell something simple that 'Knowledge' correctly? Or what 2544 ÷ 48 is? It's 53! They aren't worth his time, and he doesn't feel that another teacher should waste their time either. So he kills them, his go-to method being to break their necks so its quick and not too messy.

Solar is the janitor and technician. He's just... tired. There is too much cleaning to do, too many dead kids, and most of all... ugh, Eclipse is annoying. But he doesn't break his role of janitor, knowing that he really has nothing outside this school anyways, so whose gonna judge him for snapped and punching a student who annoys him? No one. At least he's not killing... or if he is, no one noticed... It's amazing what hydrogen peroxide can clean out of clothes after all.

Eclipse is the principal. He doesn't mind all the killing, but he prefers not to get his hands dirty. It's enertaining to watch students come complaining to him, though. He will kill, tho. A student breaming too many rules, making too many messes, out with no hall pass... those who break rules have no place in his eyes. So a quick death should do fine. But if there's one he just particularly hates... He's happy to take his time to peel off someone's skin

[yourwinchesterbros]

“Rule Breaker”     Part One

Part two available!

Word Count: 4.5K 

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female Reader x Damon Hale 

Summary: Reader is the new manager of Diosa as she takes Jax’s hand in the world of SAMCRO. She loves her new life being bad but things go awry when an unwanted visitor arrives from her past. 

Authors Note: Part Two is in the making and will be posted if requested! This is a realistic take in the life of a motorcycle gang, warnings are posted below. Part Two will be majority of Jax Tellers response to this scenario. 

This fic is 18+ only, Minors do not interact 

Warnings: Use of y/n,  Smut, Swearing, Violence, Mention of weapons, Talks of sex, Non consented Sex, R*pe, Choking, (P in V), Oral Sex, Hair grabbing, Threats, Unprotected Sex. 

                                                        ~~~~~

“Good job girls” you say with a smile as you grip a wad of green handed to you by your “escorts”.

Diosa just closed with yet another successful night. Ever since you took over management from Nero as he moved onto better business with Jax running guns, Diosa really started to thrive. Before this, you were working in the police force, just a rookie that knew no better. It wasn’t long until you were roped up in the dramas that ensued in Charming. And it most definitely wasn’t long for you to meet Jax teller and immediately fall for his piercing blue eyes that sparkled and all that came with him. You never really predicted all the events that took place along the way, but who ever does?

It was over 2 years ago, when you were working a case with Deputy Hale. That case was revolved around revealing the fact that “Teller-Morrow Automotive” was just a front, made for concealing a well functioning and severely armed cartel. Not just a family run car joint for hot bikers to park at. It was a business that contained some of the most horrific men, those that had the abilities to make people, simply disappear. You shudder at the memory of what once was your perception of the club.

With joining the police force, great pride and dedication became you. You’ve wanted to be an officer all your life, ensuring your small hometown of Charming stays... well, charming. During your time watching and monitoring SAMCRO, there came a few close calls. Working behind Deputy Hale and observing his efforts to bust Clay and his son, consisted of long and exhausting nights. Each time Hale was nearing the finish line, they yet again persevered as they did every time, and grand-fully escaped.  Despite Hale’s attempts, there came one destined, unfortunate night that resulted in the worst way possible. It was only later that you realized, Hale had kept some secrets from you. Unquestionably, he was working alongside with those of SAMCRO. It’s unclear when he turned and caved to their ways but ultimately, he did, and in the end, it cost his life. That’s when you officially took the lead of the case and by no surprise, you evidently failed. As the it came to light you were lead sheriff on the case, the SONS then worked their magic on you. Deputy Hale was survived by his son – Damon, Damon Hale. 

This is a man that was at one time, suspended from the police force, which was ordered by his own father. A man whom you spent a few restless, and memorable intimate nights with. A man who proved time and time again, that he was driven by hatred. There undoubtedly was bad history between him and his father, I mean you were assigned to work as sheriff under Deputy Hale, over his own son. That alone spoke more volume than words could share. You never bothered to dig for explanations, this was due to the fact that Damon became enraged at any subject mentioning David Hale. And that rage turned to violence. It wasn’t long before Damon’s true colors showed which if one had to be chosen, it would be red. Violence was his favorite thing, as well as his solutions to all problems. After a tiring month of being torn between working with the sons and their club and Damon with the police force, Jax won you over effortlessly.

Now, talk about a man. Jax fucking Teller. How do you describe a person whom possesses things, both good and bad? He’s hardworking, for all the wrong reasons, passionate for all the right reasons, a combination of a great father, lover and president yet at the same time a stone-cold killer. You grin at this thought. There was something undeniably sexy about Jax and his dark side, the side that made you forever feel protected. After working alongside the SONS while working the badge, you and Jax shared many, many nights. Just the two of you, discussing how to cover up Happy’s latest kill or Tigs latest fight over god knows what, probably saving a dog. The chemistry between you and Jax was too obvious to ignore, and the sexual tension, my god. Once Jax caved to his feelings and vulnerably handed himself over to you, you accepted with a fiery love for him and a love for being bad. Flash forward to becoming a young, retired cop, to now young Manager of Diosa. You had the club, the girls, the Harley and best of all, the oh so desired president of SAMCRO, Jax Teller. Life simply made sense in this hidden world inside Charming.

Your office landline rings. Startling you out of this daydream of what once was and now is.

You pick up the line, “Thank you for calling Diosa, Y/N speaking, how can I help you?”

“Hey darlin’ ” 

Ugh, just his voice brings you a spur of butterflies.

“Just making sure you’re still at Diosa, I don’t see you here at the clubhouse?” Jax asks you with a hint of concern in his voice. He never fails to notice when you’re working late.

“Good evening Jax, I’m just closing shop, I’ll be over there shortly” You manage to contain your pleasure as you try to present yourself professionally.  

“Sweetheart, I love hearing you say my name but cut the ladylike act and get your ass over here, that’s an order from your actual boss” He chuckles. “I’ve been thinking about you all day”.

You laugh over the phone “I’m coming soon, another busy day here”.

“I knew hiring you was one of the best investments I could ever make” You hear his voice deepen. “You’re still following my one rule, right?”

As if Jax wasn’t paying Lyla to keep a close eye on your good behavior in Diosa. “I run the house, the girls, but I don’t get on my knees for the clients” you say obediently. “Although if I did, I would probably increase clientele” You slyly grin as you know the very reaction you’ll receive.

“That’s not funny Y/N” He responds sharply “Don’t joke about that shit. I don’t share. You belong to me and me only” You can practically hear him biting his lower lip in frustration over the end of the other line, taking in a deep drag of his cigarette.

“I know baby, I’m just fucking with you. I’ll make up for it tonight at the party. How’s that sound?” you rapidly start fantasizing about his lips, and his arms and the sound he makes when –

“Darlin’, I’ll come pick you up right now. Fuck the party” He answers teasingly. “I’d love to see you on my bike with whatever you got on today”

“Actually..I am wearing your favorite top today...” You hear him groan over the line.

“You’re wearing the black corset, aren’t you?”  He asks eagerly.

“Mmmhm” You hum back.

“Oh god, you’re killing me babe” He groans again.

“See you soon Teller” You know Jax can hear the smile on your face.

“I better darlin’, got a gift for you when you get here”. He chuckles referring to his hard on.

 You hang up the phone only to hear the doorbell ring. Annoyance builds as your focus has shifted to getting to the clubhouse as quickly as you can. The sooner you arrive, the sooner you get to see your president. You never keep the man in cut waiting for too long. 

Who could that be? You ponder as you make your way over to the brown mahogany front doors of Diosa. Your black stilettos thundering the floor with every step. You briefly catch yourself in the hall mirror and adjust your black lace corset, that hold your D cup breasts on display. You brush out your long brown hair with your fingertips and you tug down your barely there skirt before you answer the mystery that awaits outside Diosa.

Maybe Lyla forgot something? You unlock the heavy golden bolts as the sound sends echoes throughout the empty brothel.

With a swing of the left door, your smile quickly descends to shock.

“God damn Y/N” Damon whistles following his words. He puts on a mischievous smile. He’s a handsome man, well built with his biceps bulging out of his too tight uniform. He matches the height of Jax and possesses short dark brown hair with deep green eyes that on some days have a glimmer of gold. You used to admire this man. You used to admire his freckles and clean-shaven face he always upkept as he represents authority. But those were the days before he changed, before his compulsive need to control charming and thrill of using his pistol whenever he could, took over the well-respected man he once was. Now the sight of Damon, makes you freeze in your tracks.

“Damon” you respond still in shock but with a dreaded tone. You know he already knows you’re afraid of him and you didn’t hide it well. “We’re closed for the night” you say quickly as you attempt to close the door. His police boot catches the gap and prevents you from shutting it.

“I just want to talk Y/N, no need to cast me away. It’ll be quick but it’s important”. He says with a concerned expression on his face. Eyes locking on yours. He was always so hard to read.

With hesitation and a moment spared analyzing his face, you give up and open the door for his entrance. What the fuck does he want? The last time you saw him was when you handed in your resignation and early retirement letter. He over the year discovered what you were really doing with the SONS and with Jax. He tried to keep you away from the club and keep you by his side at the station, but he didn’t stand a chance. The club called to you. That day, he ended his relationship with you with nothing but a threat, that you’d regret your actions for choosing crime over authority hence, Jax over Damon.

“Damon” You sigh as you watch him show himself to the lounge. He makes cozy on the leather couches, legs spread open, arms resting on the ridges. Guess its not a quick chat after all, Fuck.

“I don’t have much time, so what is it you need to talk about”. You say as you cross your arms. Immediate regret arises when you realize you positioned your breasts higher up in your corset earlier. Damon makes no fail to scan your figure and appreciate the display. You cringe.

“Now, I didn’t want to have to do this, however Y/N, you leave me no choice as you deliberately work alongside the sons” he spits the words. “I’m sure you’re aware that I don’t give up easily on my investigations, regardless of the fact that you’re now a part of it”. He pulls out a thick brown cigar and places it in his lips. His eyes never parting from yours, he with a flick of his Bic, holds the flame in place and starts to puff until there’s a steady pull. The silence makes you uneasy.

You break the tension “I’m sure you’re aware, Damon, but there’s nothing to investigate, Now kindly - get out”. With hope that this encounter ends here, you sway your hips as you turn to the door to guide him to his exit. You hear his heavy footsteps follow behind you. Uncontrollably, you flinch as his arm surpasses your head reaching for the bolt. The same sound echoes as he locks it. Fuck.

“Sit down, I said we need to talk” His expression different than what it was before. All kindness has left his eyes. His voice had deepened, gravelly almost.

You slowly turn back towards the lounge, a million thoughts going through your head. What does he know?  

Rather than sit on the couch, you take your seat at the bar, across from the lounge. You cross your smooth legs once sat on the barstool. Your eyes narrow in on his stupid badge, almost mockingly shiny. You were nervous, and yet even though you used to wear the uniform, it still intimidated you. Especially on a man like Damon.

“Listen here and listen closely Y/N” he says as he invades your space by towering over you. His hands placed on either side of you on the bar table. As he speaks, the smoke from his cigar leaks from his lips into your face. You cover your mouth to stifle a cough.

“This wonderful place of young pussy and high tits” he speaks with his cigar in between his teeth while looking down your corset “It has some legal issues, baby”. He brings his glare back to your face.

“Diosa isn’t what you thi-” You start but you’re quickly interrupted.

“The transaction that involves in both purchase and sale of sexual favors here in San Joaquin county is just simply, Illegal” With his eyes locked onto yours, He tilts his head sarcastically and pouts his lips as if to project empathy for you.

With an arch of your brows, you remember what Nero told you and stand your ground to say “Diosa is strictly an escort service for which I have a permit that is hung in my office over there” you point to the room behind him to the left as you stand up to show him.

Damon swiftly grabs you tightly by the neck “Sit the fuck down “His words piercing you. He’s only inches away from your face. Moving his Cigar with one hand to the ashtray on the bar table, he holds his other hand firmly on your throat. During those intimate nights with Damon, this was his favorite way to dominate you however this time, it’s more than that.

You freeze, as you’re at his mercy looking up at him with your doe green eyes. You see something shift in his. He pulls away from your stare and diverts down to your lips. He squeezes your neck ever so slightly to watch your lips part as you pull for air. “That’s right” he whispers as he clenches his jaw.

You struggle to breathe, but you don’t dare put your hands on his to break away. You remember his rules when it came to him dominating you. Finally, he releases. Your neck is already throbbing from the pressure that was there. You try to ignore this and concentrate on your gasps for air.

“Let’s try this again” He starts, moving his hands back to the table, again towering over you. “I got a warrant to search the club tonight”, Now he raises his brow to watch your reaction. He’s enjoying this.

You try to conceal the panic that rises in your chest. Fuck. There’s a party tonight. The guns, blow, crow eaters are all enough to put your boys in cuffs. That club is yours, and you have every intent of protecting those men in cuts, the same as they protect you. Damon smirks as he watches your thoughts generate. Before you can say anything, he continues.

“One phone call”, he grabs his phone out of his pant pocket to show you the contact number on his screen. “I hit this button, the swat team turn off Pine Rd and surprise your little gang bang tonight. Surely you understand that means your boy Teller comes back to the station with me”. Damon licks his bottom lip slyly. He holds his phone in one hand, and to your surprise he uses his other to start unbuckling his belt. You know exactly where this is going.

“Damon, please.” You start to beg. “You don’t have to do this. I’m sorry for hurting you when I left, I can’t help it, I belong here!” He stops unbuckling and reaches over to press the green cell icon. “Wait, Damon, Damon, listen. I have money, I can give you dirt on the Niners, it’ll project your career! All I ask is please, just leave the club out of this. This is clearly between us!”. You say as you raise your voice higher and higher each time, he taunts you with pressing the button.

“You didn’t just hurt me!” Damon screams sending a jolt through your system “You fucking betrayed me! If I can’t have you, no one can, especially that greasy fucking biker!” He Presses the green icon.

“No no! Damon, I’m yours, I’m yours” You break the one rule you always abided by and immediately drop to your knees “I’m here, I’m sorry, please” You beg.

                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  “Come on man, green light, give me the green light” Half Sac wines. It’s 11pm and Half Sac knew very well about tonight’s event, and he knew how the club liked to party. Half sac is usually sent on crap runs to keep him out of the club on nights like this as he’s a prospect and still needs to earn his worthy spot in the SAMCRO festivities. But tonight, tonight was different. Tig decided to give him only a few errands to run, and if he was quick enough, he maybe could make it back in time before all the crow eaters were occupied. After the past two weeks, under Jax’s command of club schedule, it had been hell for all the boys in cuts and a night of heavy drinking and topless company was much desired.

“Finally,”. Half sac smiles at the green light as he slams on the gas. He turns up the radio as he hears Alice Cooper singing “Eighteen”. A classic. As he sings along to the lyrics, he notices your car is still at Diosa. He quickly turns the music down. “Man, she’s still there?”. His eyes widen as he sees the cop truck on the other side of Diosa’s entrance. “What the fuck?” he mutters under his breath. With hesitancy, he considers hauling ass to the club and preventing any more risk on missing out on that sweet, sweet blow job he’s been daydreaming about. “Nah, I can’t”.

He turns abruptly into the brothels parking lot. With a swift kick of the van door, he hops out and skip runs up the steps to the doors. “Y/N!” He yells. He grabs the long vertical golden handles on the doors, but they don’t budge. Half Sac frowns. “Okay... that’s not good” he whispers. He attempts to knock and holler for you but no response. All he hears is Diosa’s stereo system blaring the same song on the same station. He skips back down the stairs of Diosa and climbs into the van. He fires her up and makes his way back to the club, silver cell in hand, dialing none other than his president, Jax.  

                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Damon hangs up the phone. “It’s cancelled”. He tosses the phone on the couch and makes his way to you while you’re still on your knees. You look at the clock that hangs on the wall of your office through the little window that sits in between the wall of the office and lounge, 10:30pm you read. You last spoke with Jax around 9:45pm as Diosa closes for the night at 9:30pm. You accept the circumstances of the situation. When it comes to protecting the club and most importantly Jax, you would do anything. Your man of power didn't need to know about this. Besides you know how little Damon lasts anyways.

He reaches for the stereo remote and cranks the volume as he positions himself in front of you. You unbuckle his brown leather belt, slowly just to build that anticipation for Damon. You hear him lightly groan already. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’ve missed your tight mouth”. You grit your teeth. Let’s just get this over with.

You slip his belt out of the hoops, fold it in half and whip it against the floor, you look up at him and lick your lips arousingly. You feel his bulge grow more under his zipper. You unbutton his pants and slowly slide down his zipper to excite his growth even more so. With eagerness, Damon proceeds to pulls down his pants and black SAXX boxers to reveal his swelling thick cock.  

“Take it nice and slow, I want fill your mouth” he pants. You roll your eyes beneath him and grip his hardness as it jerks up to the touch. You use your tongue to wet the base, the shaft and slide all the way to the tip. Without warning, he grabs the back of your your head, grips a ball of your hair and forces him into you. Damon wanted to ravage you, to hurt you at the same time. He hated the dark thoughts that sat with him all those nights he polished off 2/6s of Whiskey straight. Always straight. He often thought of the moans you made, the way you squeezed his cock when he filled you. But Jax, Jax was the one whom you obeyed to now. To Damon, a low life criminal didn’t deserve you. But of course, no one did. Only he deserved you. With rage rising in him as he thought of Jax filling your mouth, he shoved you deeper, forcing you to deep throat. You gagged and attempt to pull away, but he pulls you back deeper. With struggling breaths, Damon thrusts his hips faster as he holds your head, aware of your desperation to pull away for air. He watches down at you, teeth clenched as you stare at him.  As he nears his orgasm, he’s even rougher. Tears start streaming down your face, he’s deliberately hurting you. You’re choking on your own saliva as he fucks your mouth, your lips swelling. Out of sheer panic and loss of nasal breathing you grip his thigh and dig in with your nails, it was the nicer route you took, to get away.

“Fuck!” Damon stumbles back as you gasp for air, drooling onto the floor.

“Fuck you, get the fuck out, You got what you wanted!” You scream at him in between gasps and pointed to the doors. You try to collect yourself, wiping away at your lips. 

“You were fucking choking me, you pathetic fuck!” you yelled in anger.

The look on his face frightened you, more so than you already were.

“Oh no no sweetheart, we’re just getting started”. He charges at you. As you panic to get to the front door, he pushes you against the wall. You end up grabbing the blinds of the window by the front door to brace your fall, but they give out, falling with you. You see him looking at his thigh wound, Deep dark red lines with little domes of blood surfacing, you scramble to get up and run to your office. You know In your drawer you have a switch blade. But it’s too late, Damon follows you in. With strong hands, he has you pinned up against your desk. He rips the top of your corset, your straps cutting into your shoulder until they break, freeing your breasts. He aggressively cups you while he starts kissing down your neck, threats of teeth lightly biting you. You try to hit him, to push him off, but the sheer weight of him is too much. He grabs both your wrist with one hand and holds them behind your back while he savages your nipples. 

“These perfect tits belong to me” He growls as he tugs on your nipple with his teeth. You manage to free your leg and knee him in the crotch. He wails but it turns to growling. You see a split second of an out and take it. As you run to exit the office, once again he grabs you by the hair and pulls you back to the desk slamming your head onto it. 

“Fuck you!” You scream as you feel the pooling of blood form from your forehead onto the surface of your desk. He has you pinned. 

“You should have fucking listened to me huh!?” He yells into your ear as he holds your head down. With the room spinning, You feel him lift your skirt. Exposing your G string. Damon holds you down with one arm, his hand on the back of your neck, his elbow digging into your lower waist as he uses his other to begin spanking you, hard. He slaps your rear; each time you squeal from the pain he follows up with another. 

“That’s right you fucking bitch” He growls as he lays another slap on your red cheeks.

“You’re a sad excuse of a man” You manage to spit out.

“What did you fucking say?” You hear his breathless deep voice behind you. Music still blaring through the walls of Diosa.

“I said, you’re a fucking - sad - excuse - of a man, it’s no wonder I left you for Jax!” You scream, face still against the cool hard surface of your desk.  

He turns you around facing him, his fingers digging into your arms, your back now leaning against the desk. Before you can react, you feel a sharp infliction across your face, resulting in your bottom lip to split. You taste your own blood. Another one comes at you, nearly knocking you off the desk all together. Damon repositions you, lifts you as if you weigh nothing and slams you down on your rear. Now sitting, facing him, your head still in his grasp, he pulls your thong to the side and shoves into you. You shriek with pain. He releases your hair and firmly grabs your chin. 

“Now fucking look at me when I’m fucking you” He orders as he stares you down with darkened eyes. With each thrust you start to lose consciousness; your sight drifts out the little window in the office that looks to the lounge. You see the window by the doors of Diosa, where you ripped the blinds off and to your surprise, you think you see lights in the dark pulling up in your parking lot.

It’s the Harleys, it’s the boys, it’s Jax.

You look up at Damon as he continues to thrust into you, he sees you’re smiling from ear to ear, despite the blood on your teeth, dripping out your mouth. 

“Oh, now you like it huh?” He stares back at you with those dark green eyes, grabbing your hair to pull your head back. He bites your neck.

You laugh, “Damon you fucking idiot, you’re about to meet the Reaper”.

He releases your head to look at your gaze with confusion. You greet him again by spitting your blood in his face, just in time to see Jax break down the front doors of Diosa. The minute Jax’s eyes meet yours through that window, you only saw the bad side of him, the part that makes you feel protected, the dark blue eyes of a stone-cold killer.

[unfortunatelysage]

The Giant Slayer’s Lament

cw: implied death, soft fatal unwilling v/re (indirectly depicted)

One breath in, one breath out. Weak in the knees, Adelaide pushes the wooden door forward.

“Her Majesty advised for me to come see you,” the young slayer murmurs.

Sigmund looks up from his desk, his deep black eyes meeting her hazel ones. “Did she? What ails you?”

Adelaide slowly walks into the room, sitting on the soft ottoman in the middle. It’s not her first time here, and it won’t be her last. “I have been dancing around the truth with you. With everyone.”

The shaman cocks an eyebrow, turning around and carrying his candle over to sit across from her. “Go on, then.”

Adelaide freezes. She’s been preparing for this conversation for weeks, but once the time finally comes to speak, her throat is hitched and her mind is cloudy. One breath in, one breath out. “It’s about the giant.”

Beads of sweat begin to form on the slayer’s forehead, which she quickly pats down with the back of her hand. Must she be so nervous? She has to pull herself together. “I am unsure of the proper manner to report this, but… it has not been slain. The kingdom is still in danger.”

Sigmund’s eyes widen. “Adelaide…” he trails off.

“Shaman, you simply do not understand,” she replies. “The beast alone was not enough to frighten me. There’s more to the story.”

One breath in, one breath out. She begins to elaborate.

When I had walked into the giant’s place of residence, it was sleeping. The monster’s immense body seemed to never end, sprawled across a proportionately large set of furniture. Its hand hung off the side, fingertips nearly touching the floor. The length of the hand was nearly twice that of my entire body, and I am one of the taller warriors.

Though I had prepared for fending off a waking giant, I would be foolish in not taking advantage of its sleeping state. Precariously, I scaled the immense furniture, finding myself even with the monster’s stomach, which groaned and heaved as though it had just eaten. Just when I was to run toward its neck to make the fatal blow, a sound stopped me.

Screaming. Soft, muffled screaming.

My heart sank as it dawned on me where the sound originated. Eyes widening, I began trembling as I leaned toward the monster’s stomach. The screaming grew louder… I could almost make out the pleas. Goose pimples pricked up across my limbs as my blood turned to ice. Humans. Like me.

Slowly, my sword went back into its sheath. The giant’s stomach was barely exposed, its top shifting up in sleep. Soft as a feather, I placed my bare hands against the soft flesh of the monstrous torso, lightly pressing my ear up to it to try and hear better.

Two hands immediately pressed up against mine from the other side as a bloodcurdling scream rang through the giant’s stomach.

I yelped in response, jumping backwards as my hands clasped over my mouth. Just then, I felt the entire world move around me. Fear and regret exploded inside me, drowning my stomach as it dropped to the floor.

It was awake.

I didn’t even begin to process the situation as I frantically clambered down the furniture the same way I ascended, leaving behind my rope. Leaving behind all those people.

I sprinted out the cracked entrance I came through, ignoring the booming footsteps, the floor shaking beneath me, and the hackneyed “Fee, fi, fo, fum.” I had never even made a scrape. I had chickened out.

Adelaide looks down, tearing up. “The screams have permeated my dreams. I am unable to go a day, an hour, even a minute without hearing them. I can still feel the digesting human’s hands grasping mine through the beast’s stomach.”

Sigmund blinks. “Adelaide, please look at me.”

She doesn’t. “I am aware my own cowardice has costed the safety of the kingdom, and the lives of the innocent. I cannot apologize enough.”

“Adelaide, please.”

The slayer slowly looks up, eyes puffy. “I’m sorry.”

“Young warrior,” he replies. “I understand the fear. You already know I find you to be one of the bravest warriors this kingdom has ever seen.”

“So brave of me to flee at the first sight of danger…” Adelaide stammers. “There’s… there’s blood on my hands, shaman.”

“Not the way I see it.”

She doesn’t reply.

The shaman continues. “You are the head of the fleet for a reason, Adelaide. Your consistent loyalty and bravery have gone without question for as long as you’ve been with us. Do you know why you stopped to listen to those people instead of slaying the giant?”

“I was distracted. I prioritized incorrectly.”

“Nay,” he cuts in. “You had done it out of empathy. Had you not been thrown off, would you have ever gone in for the fatal blow?”

The slayer pauses. “I suppose I’ll never know.”

Sigmund narrows his eyes. “You’re discrediting yourself, young warrior.”

“My actions have discredited me more than my words ever will,” she retorts.

He pauses, scratching his chin before letting out a soft chuckle. “So, this is the mindset you choose to hold.”

Adelaide doesn’t reply.

“The way I see it,” he continues. “You have two options.” The shaman rises, picking up his candle. “You can either let the cries of the people guide you to their justice…”

He blows out the candle, shrouding the small shack with darkness “Or you can let them go to waste.”

The slayer’s breathing deepens.

“At any rate…” the candle softly clinks against the table as Sigmund sets it down. “You will be plagued by them until you choose the next step. And either way, there is still a maneater out there plotting its next meal.”

Adelaide pauses, pondering over the darkness. At once, she stands, bustling toward the door.

“What are you doing?” Sigmund asks.

Light floods back into the room as the door is pushed open, illuminating Adelaide from behind. One breath in, one breath out. “I’m getting my sword. Thank you, shaman.”

Sigmund smirks. “That’s the warrior I know.”

[zapsoda]

hello chief!! spacecrew fan reporting for duty!! 🫡 what's everybody's reason to leave their former situation and become bounty hunters (and/or joining this particular ship)?

iirc tally left his planet cuz he was "inferior" and dispensable so he just headed out and kip followed him to protecc him but idrk for the rest of them....

ehehe ive actually been thinking about this a lot lately!!! some of the details are subject to change but ill share what ive had in mind thus far

youre basically right about tally and kip, still not settled how they get into the bounty hunting profession specifically but tally left because he was miserable and kip followed bc he loves him (also because he is desperate for adventure ehehe)

roy works a shitty on-site engineer/technician job at a machine rental service which she is entirely overqualified for. she follows technology-related news and tinkers with little contraptions at her family home.

one day she hears about a certain missing android, which catches her attention. there is little precedent for a report like this, and the details released to the public dont make sense. she decided her next project will be finding this little runaway. not to turn it in, just out of sheer curiosity.

um cw for suicide in this next bit i spose

bax is a human, fucking miserable. its not like his life is particularly bad. his family are upper middle class and love him. he does fine in school. he just hit the genetic lottery with mental illness in addition to being a huge egg ahah. when hes around 16 he tries to kill himself.

cw over for the rest of this bit

to his utter chagrin, he wakes up. he wakes up in a strange place, his hair is longer, all his memories are foggy. it must be a hospital, but its no hospital hes ever seen before. for one, there are no other humans. no other earth creatures he recognizes, for that matter.

the nurses and attendants have skin of cold steel. synthetic voices, synthetic faces, synthetic hair.

one of them, he builds a rapport with. this one is strange. instead of being exasperated with baxters constant badgering, quippingz and questioning of the attendants, he is intrigued. he even asks baxter questions in return.

the android begins sneaking baxter little treats. snacks, better food, little toys. in exchange, bax talks his nonexistent ears off during every second of its free time. he nicknames it clam chowder.

this of course, does not go unpunished. this robot has a job to do. codes to abide. their time together is subsequently limited, clam is assigned to a ward on the opposite side of the building. this sucks. clam desperately wants to leave the hospital grounds, see the world, bax doesnt know what he wants other than that he fucking hates being at the hospital and he likes clam, so hell help him at any cost.

they come up with a plan for escape. and they gtfo.

from here, everything gets hazy. my plan is to start with the first mission all 5 of them go on and work backwards, fleshing out the events that actually bring the rest of em together :3

maybe kip is a mailperson who meet roys parents by chance and end up agreeing to track her down for them accidentally, before roping his con artist nephew in, idk!

[fastcardotmp3]

.oneshot

[back to main masterlist]

.gen fic

◌ I'm worse at what I do best (2.3k, T, stobin)

Febuwhump prompts: Suffering in Silence & "Why won't it stop?" In which Robin knows Steve carries the fight and the hope, and so she decides she'll carry the rest, no matter the cost. [cover art]

◌ I'm so much older (than I can take) (2.3k, T, Mike & Nancy)

Febuwhump prompts: "I love you" & "Help them" In which Mike watches Nancy get hurt and finally, inevitably, sees his sister in place of a soldier. [cover art]

.steddie

◌ covered bridge love (2.6k, T)

[+ podfic by @n0connections @hullomoon @sunlightsymphony Aheada_Lettuce dairaliz] Steve is injured in a fire. His ex-boyfriend gets a call. It was supposed to be easier this way. (angst with a happy ending) [cover art]

◌ Unreliable Narrator (5k, T)

[+ podfic by @n0connections] Nancy Wheeler writes a horror novel, asks Eddie to read it for the book on tape, and shows him a bit of truth about his own character arc in the process. [cover art]

◌ strange but not a stranger (2.2k, M)

Febuwhump prompts: "Bite down on this" & Obedience In which Eddie is starving and Steve makes him eat. [cover art]

◌ this town (rips the bones from your back) (2.3k, T)

Febuwhump prompts: Rope Burns & "You lied to me" In which Steve survives Starcourt, but he still has to survive Eddie's questions. [cover art]

◌ for I must be traveling on now (2.1k, T)

Febuwhump prompts: Hostage Situation & Too Weak To Move In which Eddie is the son of a King but not his heir and Steve is locked in the dungeon. [cover art]

◌ living reflection (of a dream) (2.4k, M)

Febuwhump prompts: Presumed Dead & "I'm doing this because I care about you" In which Eddie Munson was convicted of murders he didn't commit seven years ago. Who is he when he breaches the other side of those walls? [cover art]

.ronance

◌ aching with freedom (kissing the damned) (2.2k, M)

Febuwhump prompts: Solitary Confinement & Helpless In which Nancy is imprisoned for knowing too much and Robin brings her home. [cover art]

◌ mind our mouths (and beware our talk) (2.4k, M)

Febuwhump prompts: "Who did this to you?" & Came Back Wrong In which there's a regular at the bar where Robin works and she never sips from her drink. [cover art]

◌ to come in from the cold (2.4k, T)

Febuwhump prompts: Truth Serum & "Please Don't" In which the monsters came when Robin was eleven, her parents are killed when she's seventeen, but safety can still be found amongst the right people. [cover art]

◌ shelter from the storm (2.8k, T)

Febuwhump prompts: left for dead, “no…not like this” & not allowed to die In which Nancy makes a deal with a faerie and gets more life than she bargained for. (But at least it means she's around long enough to meet an equally endless girl.) [cover art]

.chronance

◌ dancing barefoot (2.1k, M)

Febuwhump prompts: Time Loop & Semi-Conscious In which Chrissy has died innumerable times, and it hurts to remember. [cover art]

.kalixrobin

◌ I never wanted trouble (but I sure get enough) (2.2k, T)

Febuwhump prompts: Bees & Killing in Self Defense In which Kali gets to kill Henry Creel once and for all (and then kiss a pretty girl about it). [cover art]

.jargyle

◌ good men through the ages (2.1k, T)

Febuwhump prompts: "You weren't supposed to get hurt" & Blood-Stained Tiles In which Argyle gets shot and in which Jonathan grapples with an unending guilt complex. [cover art]

.ensemble/ multiship

◌ your body is an anchor (2.3k, M)

Febuwhump prompts: Unresponsive & "You weren't meant to be there" In which Nancy takes a detour during their trek through the Upside Down and faces the reality of closure. [cover art]

◌ ticket to anywhere

A collection of ficlets and meta analyses that I am archiving for safety’s sake (but you can read them too if you like) see also on tumblr

[diabollicallyangelic]

Here it is! My completed list of Lovejoy quotes that stuck to me :]

ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

------

[Taunt]

-

[One Day] 

"And time and time I play the empath, I don't know why"

"Oh baby, isn't life so fucking inconsistent."

[Sex Sells]

"So will you do what's easy? Or will you do what's right?"

"How's it feel to be so loved yet so alone?"

[Cause For Concern]

-

------

PEBBLE BRAIN

------

[Oh yeah, You gonna cry?]

-

[Model Buses]

-

[Concrete]

"All this, over a kiss."

"You know it's always the same, it's all just a game."

"How can you look at yourself in the windowpane without wanting to hit yourself."

[Perfume]

"Left your heart on standby"

"It seems like all our friends abruptly fell in love."

"So she learnt to lie, she learnt how to pretend."

"Why can't you be a dick? Why must you be so nice? It's hard for me to move on when I don't really hate you."

[You'll Understand When You're Older]

-

[The Fall]

"I look to all of you and see a different fucking species"

[It's All Futile! It's All Pointless!]

"I lost the passions that comes with living."

"I don't miss you. I miss the thought of what we were."

"Cause this is the part where I shut up, and let you infest my brain."

"You'll never get rid of me. Oh, I'm like a fucking disease."

"And what was your thoughts when you realized you'd never feel naive love again? Was it pain or was it sickness? Were you proud of who you'd been?"

"You held his hand, it felt like flying. Now he's just another man."

"It's okay, anything to make me feel less numb."

------

WAKE UP & ITS OVER

------

[Portrait of a Blank Slate]

"I feel at some point I broke my mind. I'm always searching, the silent type."

"How do you all make it look so easy? You open your hearts up so quickly, it scares me."

[Call Me What You Like.]

"You can call me what you like, as long as you call me."

"And you could kiss the skin from my lips if it makes you feel good."

"Just place your bets on who's lost their minds"

"I'm not made for you, but what else is new?"

"This just in; I am a total fucking dumbass."

"I'll be spending the rest of my life in a state of constant paranoia."

"And I'll proceed to bang my head on every doorway and doorframe you seem suitable for us to go through."

"I'm not paranoid, I'm a realist."

[Consequences]

"Do you ever feel like you fell off, for about a year?"

"Cause I haven't slept in about a week, I stay up thinking I will die."

"I wish I tried more, wish I tried more, wish I tried."

"Whats this? The consequences of my actions now?"

[Warsaw]

"She's broken up with him inside her head. She's just waiting for the moment, the precious moment, to let him know."

"I hate to say I told you, but your habits wreck your head."

"You can try and try but you're just a cog in a machine."

"Apathy comforts me like a cell comforts an inmate."

"It won't get better, I assure you. Make no mistake, we're all going to end up in the dirt."

[Scum]

"I feel I've reached the end before I've reached death"

"I'm scum, I'm waist, I'm what you want."

[It's Golden Hour Somewhere]

"Is this what it's worth?"

"They'll tell you this is normal. They'll tell you this is love."

"They'll sell you the rope by which you'll hang yourself."

"I'm not sure if the stuff I want is even worth the price it costs."

"So tell me, is it normal, To totally lose your mind? I won't announce my sheer descent but holy FUCK there will be signs."

------

[Knee Deep at ATP]

"They say, it's not what you like it's what you're like as a person."

"Well I need new hobbies, that's one thing for certain."

------

------

[Normal People Things]

"Oh, what a blessing to meet someone like you. With eyes as dead as mine, it's fine."

-------

[tech-o-mania]

✨white_axolotl Masterlist✨

This list contains all my Star Wars fiction.

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

• "The soldier who returned from the eternal war" – PG-13, Tech/Phee Genoa

All his life, Tech was trained only for war and did not even lay the idea that someone would be waiting for him at home. And Fi was sincerely waiting for him. And here she is, in his arms, his undefeated war and one victory forever.

• "Not in vain" – R, Tech

The life of a soldier is often unpredictable. It is unknown when and where you will catch a stray bullet or, as in the case of Tech, you will have to choose between yourself and your squad, as a result of which you will definitely choose the latter. But he did not regret his action.

• "You know, brother" – G, Hunter& Crosshair

After the mission on Barton 4, Hunter and Crosshair can finally have a heart-to-heart talk.

• "The Rebirth of hope" – G, Hunter&Omega

Hunter thought that he would never see Omega again, would not hold her to his chest and would not hear her ringing voice. But now he is sending prayers of gratitude to all the existing and non-existent gods in whom he never believed. His child had finally returned to him.

• "Starless sky" – G, Hunter&Omega, Hunter&Crosshair

Hunter meets with Crosshair after the Imperials took Omega back. He needs to accept this news and pull himself together to find her.

• "The end of everything" – T, Hunter&Omega

One last mission. One last fight. And all this for her sake alone. But at what price will it all cost?

• "Made for each other" – T, Tech/Phee Genoa

There are times when you and the person you care about realize that you are made for each other. And it's the best feeling in the world.

Jude Watson "Star Wars: Jedi Apprentice"

• "There are wounds that don't heal" – PG-13, Gui-Gon Jinn/Tahl

During Tahl's funeral, Qui-Gon is visited by another vision...

Translations

• "The right partner" by fennecsrifle – The Bad Batch, Tech/Phee Genoa

• "Goodbye (or at Peace in the Force)" by devilinthedetails – "Jedi Apprentice", Gui-Gon Jinn/Tahl

• "Things to Consider" by MinnieRevercez – The Bad Batch, Tech/Phee Genoa

• "Nothing Beside Remains" by Yatzstar – The Bad Batch, Omega, Crosshair, Tech

• "Whatever the cost" by @not-so-mundane-after-all – The Bad Batch, Hunter&Omega

• "The Art of Letting Go" by @not-so-mundane-after-all – The Bad Batch, Hunter&Omega

• "Remember me" by ninistars15 – The Bad Batch, Hunter&Omega

• "Rope Burns / Adrenaline Crash" by @just-here-with-my-thoughts – The Bad Batch, Hunter&Omega

• "We're Still What's Left" by @lazinesswrites – The Bad Batch, Crosshair, Hunter, Omega, Wrecker

Endless thanks to all the authors who allowed me to translate their work🙏🏻✨

Over time, this list will be updated with my new works and translations!

[thesightstoshowyou]

🩸 BLOODFEST 🩸

Week One

Prompts: Rope, teeth, size, blood

Keywords: Rain, wicked

Payment Plan

Male Vampire OC x GN Reader

Warnings: Blood, heavy gore, descriptions of violence, manipulation

This is a long one, folks. Get a snack and settle in.

~~

$3.78

The little black numbers on your phone screen could be innocuous enough. It’s a simple amount, small, maybe the price of a basic coffee or a quick snack at the gas station. It would be harmless, if it wasn’t the balance of your checking account.

With a noisy clatter, you toss your phone carelessly onto the counter, your head falling to your hands. At your feet, a quiet mewl.

Despondently, you look down at your cat, Sweet Pea. The cone around her neck, shaved hair and stitches on her front leg are the source of your current monetary dilemma. Somehow, she’d managed to slice herself open on an errant piece of balcony railing.

“Idiot,” you murmur, crouching low to give her a scratch. She purrs, oblivious to your name-calling. As your fingers glide through her soft, warm fur, the question festering in the back of your mind drifts to the forefront of your thoughts.

How are you going to make rent? It’s due today and you don’t get paid for another two weeks. You’ve never been late on a payment before. Maybe…. Maybe if you ask your landlord for an extension he’ll take pity on you?

You swallow the lump in your throat. Just the idea of speaking with him makes your palms sweaty. That innate fear, the knowledge that you’re not at the top of the food chain always pricks at the back of your neck in his presence. You try to avoid him at all costs.

You wonder if his other tenants feel the same.

With a deep sigh, you push to your feet and cross the room to retrieve your keys. First you must work. You definitely can’t miss a shift now.

Exiting your apartment, your keys rattle in the lock. After the click, you turn on your heel and crash straight into a solid chest.

“Oops!” a quiet voice exclaims, long fingers gripping your shoulders to keep you from tumbling backwards.

“Oh christ, I’m so sorry—

Your words catch in your throat when your gaze lands on the face of Mr. Talo, your landlord. The fight to keep your expression passive ends in defeat as all the blood drains from your face.

Too quickly to be nonchalant, you step away from him, back colliding with your locked front door. No escape—

No, shut up, you’re acting insane, don’t upset him, CHILL OUT….

“Everything alright?” Mr. Talo asks in his soft, lilting voice, his slight accent catching at the ends of his words. You meet his eyes, iris bright blue and whites bloodshot—a sign of a well-fed vampire.

You allow yourself to relax minutely before responding, “Y-Yeah, I’m really sorry Mr. Talo—

“Oh no, no, please call me Sami. ‘Mr. Talo’ sounds like I’m much too old or something.” The corners of his lips twitch up in a gentle smile. You can tell he’s trying to keep his teeth hidden, but you can still see the very tips of white fangs poking out from under his top lip.

You force a breathy chuckle, gaze dropping to your shoes, then back up in time to watch his spidery fingers ruffle the white-blonde hair atop his head. The fluorescents above catch the stray strands, his pale locks nearly glowing under the light.

“Right, you must be off to work? I’ll leave you to it.” Sami turns to leave, then pauses to add, “Rent due today, I’m sure you’re aware.” Your heart stutters in your chest. You’d wanted more time to prepare your sob story….

“Uh, Mr—I mean, Sami. About rent….” The vampire turns to face you fully, eyebrows raised curiously. You swallow, throat suddenly dry. You continue, “I’m—my cat h-had an accident, I mean, she got hurt. I had to, you know, take her to the vet—stitches, she needed them, which…which you know, costs…costs money and—

“You can’t make rent this month.” he finishes for you. Your mouth opens, closes, opens again. He doesn’t sound upset. In fact, there’s a glint of something in his gaze, beyond the bloody sclera; something eager.

“Y-Yes. I’m sorry, is there…?” You trail off, forgetting what you wanted to ask. Sami is turned completely toward you now, attention fully focused on you, your face, your shoulders, your neck…. His hands, once resting in his pockets, now hang at his sides, long fingers twitching randomly.

“S-Sami?” you breathe, jaw clenching. Your own fingers jump, ready to reach for your keys, but then Sami blinks, shoulders relaxing, hands quickly returning to pockets like he hadn’t even moved at all.

“There are payment plans. I’d be willing to extend that courtesy to you as you’ve never been late before.” He speaks casually, like everything that just transpired was completely normal. You have no choice but to follow along, the heavy feeling in your chest lifting slightly when you comprehend what he’s saying.

Sami pauses, lightly scrapes his fangs across his bottom lip—your hand involuntarily clenches on your keys—before he speaks again, softer than before, “Or…there is one more option. An alternative form of payment—no, not that,” he adds with an awkward chuckle when your eyes bug out of your head. “Though some would consider it equally as—erm—unwholesome.”

“W-What do you mean?” Your voice breaks a little with your question and you wonder how much more your poor nerves can handle. Sami takes a half step closer, hands leaving his pockets, fingers entwining.

“Blood,” he states simply. You stare. His expression doesn’t change. You blink several times in quick succession when you realize he’s serious. Sami nods, “For one month, I will forgive rent in exchange for one, uh…feeding.”

Words elude you. He’s serious! Has he done this before with other tenants? He must have, with how boldly he speaks. Is this legal? It can’t be, can it?

You realize you’ve said nothing for too long a stretch. Sami waits expectantly. Again, you must swallow before you speak.

“Um. Uh…can I think about it?” His eyes crinkle at the corners, more of those wicked fangs revealed with his grin.

“Certainly. I’ll touch base tomorrow?” You can only nod weakly in response. “Great! Talk soon.”

And with that, he strides away down the hall before disappearing into the stairwell. The loud bang of the heavy door shocks you out of your stunned silence and you spin around, hurrying in the opposite direction.

~~

Payment plan. You’re going to do the payment plan. That’s the least insane option.

But one month no rent…. That could be huge for you, especially with these vet bills you still have to pay.

No, absolutely not. It’s madness to even consider it! What if he gets carried away, or whatever? Rent isn’t worth your life.

But…the burden and stress this could relieve…. It’s just one time. He’s obviously done this before. He must know what he’s doing.

No, no, no. This is ridiculous. What is the matter with you?

You retrieve your phone, ready to text Mr. Talo—Sami—your answer. You hesitate, fingers hovering over your phone screen.

You’ve lost your god damn mind.

~~

Nervously, you check the clock on the stove. Almost 7PM. Soon.

Wringing your hands, you look over the assigned “to-do” list, mentally checking off completed tasks.

It’s Friday. You have the weekend off to…recover, as instructed. You’d eaten iron-rich foods all week, drank the requisite amount of water, taken all the B vitamins. You’d meal prepped for the weekend, ensuring all your meals are low effort and ready to eat.

Chewing on your lip, you frown, considering. Maybe you should—

A quiet knock at your door makes you jolt, your pen tumbling to the ground with a clatter. Heart hammering, you cross the room, smoothing your shirt and straightening the rug. Oh god, you’ve lost it, this is crazy, but it’s too late to back out….

The lock clicks and the door swings open with a little squeak. There stands Sami, wearing khakis, a pale blue button up that matches his eyes, and a kind smile. In his hand is a small, black satchel.

“Uh, hi. Hi, um, come in,” you stammer, scooting out of the way as Sami steps into your apartment. He gives your space a quick once over before turning to you.

“You completed the list I gave you?” You nod, glancing down at your feet, then back up. He smiles wider in approval and your gaze is drawn to white points. Christ, they’re huge….

“Excellent. Shall we get started? I won’t take up much more of your evening.” You tense, giving him one more stiff half nod.

Sami motions to the sofa before setting the little bag on your counter. The slide of its zipper fills the awkward silence—you should have put on music—and he rustles around inside. In a neat row, he positions gauze, a bottle of sterile water, medical tape, and a blue surgical rag. Your heart rate increases with each item he produces until it pounds furiously against your ribs.

Satisfied with the arrangement, Sami moves to sit next to you on the sofa. That same, understanding half smile decorates his wan features. Hands like ice find your face, cradling it, and you flinch at the chill. He gazes into your wide, panicked eyes, making sure you’re looking at him before speaking.

The whites of his eyes are almost completely visible, barely any red. He’s hungry—

“It is imperative you don’t struggle. Do you understand?” You blink and swallow hard, your throat like fucking sandpaper. “Repeat back what I said.”

“I-I shouldn’t s-struggle,” you whisper.

“You mustn’t.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. Now breathe. Big, deep breaths.” You do as he says, your body working on autopilot as your mind whirs with terror. “Just like that. You’re doing well! Your heart rate is slowing.”

You falter at that, “W-What? How…?”

Sami taps his ear with a slender finger, “I can hear it.” You can’t stop the flush from heating your cheeks. He knows you’ve been distressed this entire time. Embarrassing.

That eager glint returns to his eyes. With a light chuckle, Sami moves one of his hands to your shoulder, gripping just tight enough to hold you in place. Cool fingers grasp your jaw, tilting your head to the side and back, exposing your neck. He scoots closer, invading your space, pulling you close, intimately close.

You choke on a breath, then suck in air quickly, willing your tense body to relax. Don’t struggle, don’t struggle—

Sami inhales slowly, deeply, and your cheeks burn when you realize he’s smelling you. A quiet squeak leaves your mouth when his lips ghost across your throat. In your lap, your sweaty hands curl into fists.

The fingers on your jaw move to the back of your neck just as you feel the sharp points of his fangs setting themselves against your flesh. That prickling sensation returns, stomach lurching, body urging you to flee, fucking run idiot, but you reign in your panic, a mantra of ‘Don’t struggle, don’t struggle,’ playing on repeat in your brain.

Piercing, twin stings make you gasp, your hands flying up to grip the front of his shirt Warmth trickles down your throat—summer rain on your skin—before soaking into the neckline of your top. Sami quickly seals his lips around your leaking wounds.

You feel gentle suction—he’s drinking—and you can’t help the tiny whimper that escapes you when he groans, his chest vibrating against your palms with the sound. The hand on your shoulder squeezes hard, just shy of being painful. You focus on your labored breathing and force yourself to still, to be quiet.

Sami emits a muffled, gurgly moan and pulls you flush against him, wrapping an arm around your body. Your toes curl in your socks. At the same time, you notice your grip on his clothing growing slack. Your fingers are weakening, your head fuzzy, little spots forming in your vision, your breath coming in ragged pants….

With a strained growl, Sami rips his teeth out of you. His lips are millimeters from yours, so close you can feel hot, metallic breath washing over your face. Icy hands caress your face, stroke your neck, dip down to your collarbone, he’s so close, what is he—

Hastily, you are slammed back into the arm of the couch. Sami stands so quickly you don’t see him move. Dazed, you watch him stagger and clutch his head, bowed shoulders rising and falling rapidly with his gasping breaths.

You don’t have to strength to move much, nor even the wit to speak, so you just stare at his back. The rapid heaving of his shoulders gradually slows as he stands upright. His mouth he wipes on his shirtsleeve, brilliant scarlet staining the pale fabric.

Seeming to come back to himself, he retrieves the items he’d placed on the counter. Finally, he turns to face you, revealing the startling visage of a freshly fed vampire. You’d react if you weren’t so dazed, thoughts spinning with your vision.

The whites of his eyes are completely red, not a dot of ivory to be seen. His pupils are blown so wide you can’t make out any blue. Crimson stains his teeth, a paint brush smear across his cheek where he’d wiped it away.

Sami clears his throat and kneels on the sofa between your trembling knees. One hand returns to the back of your neck as the other presses gauze to your wounds. 

“You alright?” he asks, his usually soft voice now quite husky. You blink to right the world and nod once again. Fatigue pulls at your consciousness, tries to force your eyelids shut. “These will heal,” he continues, pushing against your bite marks for emphasis, “By tomorrow, most likely. Make sure you have several glasses of water. Tonight, before you sleep, I mean. Continue the vitamins.”

Dumbly, you gaze up at him. He doesn’t meet your stare, instead rips pieces of tape to secure the gauze to your skin. Next, he cleans away the remainder of your spilled blood with the surgical rag and sterile water.

Unceremoniously, he stands, retrieves a glass of water from your kitchen, sets it on your coffee table. “Get some rest,” he commands, leaving through your front door without a backward glance.

The lock clicking shut seems to trigger something within you and you slump, rolling onto your side. It’s over. You’re okay.

Well, okay enough. Maybe.

You don’t have the sense to ponder the strange details of what had just occurred. It only takes seconds for unconsciousness to claim you.

~~

The weekend passes in a blur of dizziness and fatigue. You hardly leave your bed. When Monday rolls around, you’re still so worn out you must phone in sick to work.

Sami checked on you the following day with a simple text: ‘How are you feeling?’ Other than that, you haven’t seen hide or hair of him all week. Probably for the best, you decide. Only awkwardness could occur after spending such an odd evening together.

Friday evening again, and rain pummels the windows, wind gusts rattling the balcony railing. You relax in bed, zoning in and out, not even really watching what plays on television, instead focused on the light and shadows thrown across your body from the changing images. Absently, your fingers scratch between Sweet Pea’s smooth ears…. Soft and warm….

Drip. Drip. Drip, drip, drip.

Your heavy eyes crack open. Darkness in your apartment. The television is off. When had you fallen asleep?

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The rain has stopped. Outside, the air is calm. In your sleepy state, you finally register the dripping. Oh no, a leak?

You push up onto your elbow. Sweet Pea is gone, off to perform her nightly rounds, no doubt.

You roll onto your other side and lay eyes on the horrific figure looming at your bedside.

A soaked, torn shirt reveals the mangled flesh underneath; gaping abdominal gash, bubbly fat, shredded muscle, and oozing guts all visible and leaking onto your floor. The dripping. Not a leak after all.

Higher up is a gaunt face, white blonde hair wet from the recent storm. It is a face you recognize.

Mr. Talo—Sami.

A rain-dampened hand slaps over your mouth to silence your blood-curdling shriek. Another gathers up your wrists, pinning them to the bed. Knees plant themselves on either side of your hips, body weight on your legs stopping your thrashing before it’s even begun.

He stares wildly down at you—how is moving—as warm blood spills from evisceration, soaking your clothes, your sheets. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, gentle voice strained and quivering.

You can do nothing against his strength. You can’t twist, can’t buck, can’t thrash, can’t call for help—helpless, you’re utterly helpless.

More gore pours out of him when he leans down, wet squelching accompanying the movement. Again, he murmurs, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” before lips find your neck.

A soft kiss is pressed to your skin—another apology—before wicked fangs sink into flesh. The force of your muffled scream burns your throat, but the palm suffocating you keeps it from carrying far. You recognize the sucking pressure, the noisy groan, the dizzying loss of blood coming much faster this time.

Your teeth dig into his palm, copper spilling into your own mouth, but Sami isn’t fazed, doesn’t let up. Distantly, you remember what he’d said about struggle, but the terror surging through you keeps any rational thought from sticking

Now you’re just an animal, prey squirming in the grip of a predator, desperate to save your own life. Above you, Sami growls as you writhe. It’s a feral sound resonating from deep within his chest that sends your heart into a frenzy.

There’s a crunch, more pressure in your neck, then a sick tearing sound near your ear. With a final, wet snap, Sami sits upright, flesh dangling from his terrible teeth.

You stare, shocked. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. Your fingers scurry up to your neck, recoiling when you feel the wet mess that was once your throat—the throat now clutched in Sami’s jaws.

A cough bubbles out of your mouth, blood splattering across your face, little rain drops, pitter-patter. More wets your hair, joins the puddle forming on your mattress.

Sami watches blankly, observes you drowning in your bed without so much as a twitch of his features. His eyes are crimson once more, his chest heaving. Lower, the torn shirt reveals smooth, unmarred skin, his flesh healed by your life essence.

Your bloodied hands fall away from your spurting neck, landing useless on soaked sheets. The room is darker now, growing darker still. That’s right, the television had been turned off. Good, you don’t want to waste electricity….

Have you ever been so tired?

Sami lifts his hand. He frowns at the teeth marks in his palm. Unhealed?

The last expression you see cross his face is one of terrified comprehension, the last thing you hear a breathless, “Oh no….”

Your eyes drift shut.

[fragileizywriting]

"you know plagg, i think what makes this super scary— okay, no, hold on, it's not actually that scary; i'd say that you're 'pretty scary'— why am i bothering to use quotation marks there? it's not like you can even see me—"

"—i can see you."

huh. okay. "you can?"

"well, yeah." same old plagg, even if this isn't his same old form. "that's the whole point of this. it's just that you can't see me."

yeah, no kidding! instead of a ceiling in her room, there's a giant black void, and in this void comes out fog. it's the world's most strangest augmented reality, perfectly suited for the exact space of her room— the void is flush, right up to where the ceiling meets the walls, black-ink fog slowly drifting down and meeting her peachy-pink walls like there is cotton falling from the sky. light refuses to permeate from there, black and dark and horrid, and if it weren't for her hanging plants still hanging from where she'd hooked a long rope from, she'd assumed that her roof had completely been torn off by a black hole.

"actually, what is the point of this?"

"to help you in fights."

"up there?"

"i'm containing myself in your room so that i don't scare the citizens of paris. but yes."

"huh," she says, rather simply, climbing onto her chaise and looking up, up, up. "so you're seeing a birds-eye view."

"correct, princess." his voice is the deepest thing known to mankind. it rumbles like a cinema theatre would, fitting for what must be the biggest entity in the entire universe, hiding on the other side of the portal, but she doesn't expect to hear a: "you forgot to make your bed today," out of him when she continues to pace around the room, trying to spot anything in the void. he sounds like an old man. deep chested. but also very loud.

"it's like the sims," she tells him, ignoring the quip about her bed. he can see that? but that's above her... so he's telling the truth. "or like a dollhouse."

"essentially."

"how is this supposed to help me in a fight other than scare someone shitless?" she brings a finger up to her chin. "you can see me, so you have a physical form, i'm assuming. unless you are just like, a ceiling rug."

"are you scared shitless?"

wow, it's really funny to hear that voice say a curse word. it's got her giggling. in fact, it breaks tension; she can tell, because she knows plagg really well, that he's nervous— he'd mentioned something about this numerous times throughout her life, saying things about protecting her at whatever cost, including using his form that he doesn't enjoy using— so here they are now, acclimating her to this, so that if there's ever a need for it, she won't panic. but tension still bleeds into the room, because plagg is no longer a cute little tiny kitten that fits in both of her palms, but rather something else entirely. and plagg, poor plagg, is terrified. probably because he’s scared of her reaction? that seems the most logical explanation.

"not really," she replies, rather simply. "it's you, plagg. you've seen me when i'm PMSing. that's pretty scary."

he laughs. “i guess you’re right.”

“now, explain to me what i’ll be looking at.”

“i’m not going to show you my face, or any of that stuff. let’s take this slow.”

“like a new fish acclimating to a new fish tank.”

“your metaphors need some work,” he drawls, a laugh curved into the end. “but sure. anyway, i’m a giant cat god. which is why i don’t want to alarm you with my face, or anything. or my body.”

“like the great sphinx?”

“not exactly. but i’m pretty big, just like it.”

“do you have a tail?”

“i do.”

“awh. and cat ears, too?”

“and cat eyes.”

“you sound cute. like a giant cat? why is that so scary?”

“because i am scary. when i want to, i’ve got six paws.”

six? jesus. ah. oh. hm.

“what do you need all those paws for?” she teases, even though her heart is racing and she’s doing her best not to make a face.

“to deal with you,” he replies, right back, and she imagines that he’s leaning on his folded palms with his chin, just like he always does, whenever he’s fascinated with something. “i’m gonna reach out with one of my hands. don’t freak out. i’ll go slow.”

“you got it, little chef.” then, she stops, before finding herself blurting out: “wait!”

“yeah?”

“i wanna see your left hand.”

“why?”

“i want to have at least some choice.”

he snorts. “will that actually make you feel safer? or are you just pulling my ear?”

“i don’t know. i’m just trying to make you feel better.”

“okay. left one it is, then. let me scoot a bit because i’ve been leaning this entire time on it.”

the two of them go quiet; her, waiting, anticipation stringing her up like a puppet, baited breath stuck in her throat. him, apprehensive, no doubt worried about her reaction because she knows that he has a soft spot for her, try as he might even attempt to deny it. the two of them love each other for a reason. and maybe she feels a bit of pride every time she recalls that he’s told the other kwamis that she’s the best holder he’s ever had, no questions asked.

the void starts to move. she blinks up at her ceiling golden pothos, the vining thing that shifts on her ceiling every time there’s a slight breeze from her humidifier. from the darkness, something emerges, reasonably far away from her and where she stays next to her desk, falling from the void like a puff of the fog.

it’s massive.

it’s massive.

the thing about it is that it’s not even a paw. a giant, almost-barely-translucent, fog-like hand reaches out and rests against her chaise. the arm is thicker than a tree. almost as wide as a car. it— him— he wouldn’t be able to fit through her door. he dwarfs the poor chaise like he’s playing with a miniature dollhouse. oh, oh oh oh— and the fingers— the fingers are that of a human, broad-palmed and kinda proportionately thick fingers? at the ends are claws. just like hers whenever she’s in her hexleather, plagg has talons.

“holy shit!” she eeps, jumping in surprise. giddiness bubbles out of her like carbonation, eyes wide and lips peeled in a grin. “whoa,” she exclaims. and then: “whoa. whoa, whoa whoa!”

“you’re freaking out.”

“you are so much bigger than i thought!”

“princess, you’re freaking out.”

“why do you have human hands?” she blurts out. “you’re a cat god. why human hands?”

“i’ve always had them.”

“but not in your kwami form?”

“i don’t really need fingers at that size.”

“i thought i was going to see a giant cat paw.” even though instinct is telling her to flee, flee, flee, she’s hotwired her brain to deal with whatever is giving her heart palpitations head on. the beauty of fighting akumas every week for the past ten years, of course, and yet even plagg himself seems tense— or as tense she can possibly tell based on a single left hand and strong forearm— when she walks close. “i was ready to see some cute toe beans! toe beans of a cat god! how cute would that have been? but you’re telling me you actually have a hand?”

his thumb is bigger than her. just his thumb. it’s about the same size and stature of mister bug— christ, no, she’s completely wrong, mister bug is the size of plagg’s pinky finger, claw not included— she touches him on instinct, and plagg doesn’t tell her no, so it must be safe. she knows it is. plagg loves her. plagg cares about her. he’d never hurt her. she can feel it.

she faceplants into the webbing between his thumb and forefinger before she starts screaming bloody murder.

“you’re a god,” she mumbles. his skin is cold. physically there, even though he’s slightly transparent. she can sort of see the chaise. the floor. the other side of her room from this angle. she screws her eyes shut before she panics about seeing right through his skin.

“yeah.”

“oh my god,” she wheezes. “this is… wow. plagg, you’re incredible! i always forget that you’re not actually my cat kitten thing but an actual god!”

“i can show up like this even when i’m inside the ring,” he murmurs, or at least tries to, because he’s a massive cat god hiding inside a portal that occupies the entire real estate of her ceiling. “if there’s a sentimonster giving you an actual issue, we can open this gate.”

he says nothing about how she’s purring, nuzzling into his finger, replying with a: “it’s a gate?”

“it’s a portal. gate. whatever. i’m just saying that i’m here for you, okay? always. even during a fight. hey, are you even listening?” he lifts her chin up with the very middle of his finger pad, knowing better than to use the actual talon that adorns the tip. she has the ridiculous sensation of being a polly pocket. “hey. pay attention. the ring takes me to another dimension whenever you power up— it’s a long story, it’s not necessary to explain that— but that means i’m able to come into this dimension whenever there’s a fight, too. i’m pretty fast at grabbing things. maybe i can grab a sentimonster and hold him for you, or something.”

“we’ll work something out, i’ve definitely got some ideas. hey, are you hungry? do you wanna, uh, shrink back a bit to come eat food? i don’t know if you’ll get through the trapdoor like that. i don’t think you even want to get through the trapdoor like that.”

“okay. sure.” and then, just as his hand slowly retreats, still scared to make her scared, she hears him say: “thanks for not relinquishing the ring right then and there, princess. i was… pretty nervous.”