#i see the danger it's written in your eyes

[itsagoodluckkiss]

Hi, I wanted to make a request about Luffy x female reader. The reader is feminine but clumsy, emotionally-reserved, unexperienced and kind-hearted. Smart and funny, with a soft spot for Luffy. . As for the plot, "she fell first, but he fell harder", slice of life with a little angst would be perfect. I'm desperate for fanfiction about first experience in everything kinda stuff. I'm not a minor, so it would be very good to see some sensual and awkward smut. I would be glad to read anything you'll write about Luffy x female!reader and I hope that you liked my request (^o^)/ sorry for bad english

It's Okay ~ Luffy x F!Reader

First of all, thank you for being my first request, you made me really happy and I'm really sorry for the really long wait, we had a really rough couple of months. Also, it's the first smut I've ever written so read this with patience. English is not my first language either and I'm sorry for any mistakes. Anyways, I had fun writing this, I hope you'll like it, lots of love!

Words: +3k

Warnings: hurt/comfort, op spoilers, ptsd, mentions of character death, comfort sex, smut with plot, oral (f!receiving), virginity loss (both), unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluffy ending kinda?, no use of Y/N

MDNI

Quiet days on The Thousand Sunny were as rare as mythical zoans. Not only because of dangerous encounters but also because of how calm the whole crew was today. Even your walking ray of sunshine captain was not as wild as usual. But you couldn’t really complain as you could focus on your task in silence.

The tailor of the crew, responsible of sewing, stitching and mending every piece of fabric on the ship. And that included the sails. Strong winds the night before managed a large tear and the next island was a couple of days away. So you had a job to do. Standing on a rope ladder, you effortlessly worked through the sails with elegance. Every piece of fabric in your home deserved care, as you’d always say when you mended the torn up clothes of your crew mates.

You were proud you could provide your family with loved and cared clothes and everything else they needed, top priority along with the dream of becoming the best tailor the seas had ever seen. Your mind wandered away to the smile of your captain every time you placed the fixed straw hat you came to love so much on his head, while you automatically repaired the sail. But your gracefulness started and ended at the needle in your hand.

Looking away into the sea for one second resulted in you prickling your finger. The sudden feeling caused you to lose your step and balance and you yelped as you fell from the ladder, expecting a hard fall and a trip to Chopper’s infirmary. But the land never came, arms wrapping around your frame, drawing you to somebody’s embrace. In fear, you wrapped yourself around your savior’s waist like a koala, your flower patterned dress coming up slightly. Your face went to the crook of his neck for one second, immediately recognizing who it was, and you raised your head to look at him in embarrassment.

“Hi there!”

“Luffy, thank you, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright. Was on my way to check if you needed help. Guess I was right.” he said laughing.

You smiled and hugged him tightly as he put you down on the deck. You were embarrassed, part of it because of your own clumsiness, another part because of the way Luffy’s hands lingered on your waist before letting you go.

“Are you almost done? Picked up a new card game from the last island and I want to play with you.”

“Oh, ah, I, I still have some, some work to do...?”

You didn’t. You also didn’t know why you said that. You said a lot of stupid stuff lately. You loved spending time with your captain, especially when you knew there wouldn’t be a crazy fight following you in a few hours. Falling in love with his brown eyes, his goofy and brave personality and his loyalty to his friends was the reason you said yes to joining the Straw Hats after you helped them save Robin in Ennies Lobby.

But ever since you returned to Sabaody, it’s gotten harder to contain the feelings for your first love. The other night while you two were keeping watch and talking about things you loved, an “I love you” escaped your lips without thinking, proceeding to an inept attempt to cover it by saying how you loved he is such a loyal friend. You felt the blush rushing to your cheeks as you looked again on his face and noticed something you were seeing more and more these days. His trademark smile was reduced to a small upward line and in his eyes there was a gleam of sadness. You couldn’t have that.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you around later I guess-”

“On another note, I can always finish it later. Let’s go play, Captain!”

And you grabbed his arm, running like a child playing chase across the deck toward Nami’s tangerine trees, laughing as you tripped on your two left feet, Luffy holding you upwards and laughing in the process, always there to catch you.

~

The ship was in motion, light rain falling from the night sky as Luffy found himself walking aimlessly on the empty deck. His black hair tousled, his straw hat dangling from the string around his neck, his posture slumped, trying to find some sort of relief in the breeze that hit his face. His trembling hands grip the railing, his gaze lost towards the vast ocean, unable to back focus on anything but his most recent nightmare. Memories of Ace's death spreading, like poison in his veins, once again. He tried to steady his breathing but failed as hot tears run down his cheeks, silent sobs leaving his body, trying not to wake up his crew. He hadn’t talked to anyone about Marineford. There was no reason for his friends to see him in that weakened state. He could tell that everyone felt guilty because they weren’t there for him, he didn’t want to feed that ugly feeling inside them.

You felt restless, worry prickling your skin like a hundred needles at once. Sleep wouldn’t do you a favor so you hoped off bed to get some fresh air on the deck and some moments of peace to think. Luffy’s sad eyes lingered in your thoughts. You couldn’t help but think about how much he had changed since you first met. You remembered the scrawny, eager, brave boy he was. Now his hair was longer and spikier, and he looked stronger than ever before, he was almost a man. Despite his carefree looks, a lot had changed about him. Yes, he was still as eager and resilient and determinated as ever, yet more mature, as much as maturity applied to him. And that big scar across his chest was the only testament of the fight he gave alone two years ago, as he hadn't talked to any of you about it. Not that he had to. You all knew you would wholeheartedly give him the support in any form he’d need. You’d do what you knew best. Take care of the people you loved. And from the moment you joined the crew, you knew your heart belonged to the straw hat captain.

You spotted Luffy in the front of the ship. It was unusual for him to be up and alone this late at night. Your eyes filled with concern, you walked closer to him as you noticed the trembling in his form, worry rising in your chest. Your hand caressing his shoulder slightly, you didn’t want to scare him or make him feel worse.

"Luffy?" you asked softly, voice barely audible over the wind.

Luffy wiped his tear streaked face quickly and tried to control his heavy breathing, wanting to be like his usual self, even if he knew it was too late for acting.

“I…”

He took a deep breath trying to hold it all in. He was the one that was supposed to help people through their crying and problems, to protect them. He couldn’t protect his friends in Sabaody, he couldn’t save his brother. He swore he’d never let anything like those things happen again. He didn’t want to be seen as weak. Not again. Not in front of his crew. Not in front of you.

“It’s okay, Luffy.”

His eyes met yours, a warm and safe gaze, always inviting and full of love, ready to be a place of comfort and joy to anyone that needed it. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder and back, taking him in a comforting embrace. His arms went immediately around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as silent sobs left him once again. He hugged you tightly, hyperventilating as he let every last feeling of grief and pain out. You felt your eyes well too, the pain your favorite person carried alone enough to make you want to scream.

“It’s okay… you’re okay… it wasn’t your fault…”

“I couldn’t… I thought you… were all dead… and… I was right there… I couldn’t save him… he left… in my arms… it should have been me!”

Your heart ached listening to Luffy's sobs, tears running down your face as well. You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, and looked into his red, puffy eyes.

“Listen to me! Don’t say that again, ever! We all know you’d never let us down. You did everything you could, Luffy, you always do, and it’s enough for us." You said, voice shaking, carrying all the sincerity in the world. "And you always were there for him. You gave everything you had! He loved you so much and you saved him because you showed him how loved and cherished he was! You're still doing everything you can to keep his memory alive. That's what he would want! Don’t do this to yourself, please.”

You wiped the tears off his face and squeezed his cheeks like you usually did when you shared food and laughs together, managing to drag out a small smile from the boy.

“How about we go grab some tea and biscuits from the kitchen before Sanji comes down from his watch and go to my room?” you suggested, knowing Luffy would never say no to food.

“It’s on!”

Stealth wasn’t your strongest suit as you somehow always managed to hit on something. And with Luffy beside you, havoc was almost always certain. Getting out of the kitchen as fast as you could, before Sanji’s yells could reach you, you run into the ship, down to your handicraft’s room. The warmth of the cabin enveloped Luffy, feeling a little more like his usual self now, as he took in the room. That’s were all your great works laid, with needles, threads and sewing machines all over the place. From clothes and blankets to large embroideries hanging from the walls. You laid a soft, fluffy blanket on the ground to sit on. You sipped your scolding tea as Luffy munched on a cookie, taking in your works.

“I don’t know how you can make beautiful things like these.”

“I’ve practiced it a lot. And I love it. I’m glad you like it, Captain.”

You smiled widely, gaining a toothy grin from him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For always being here.”

You were thinking your next words for a moment before moving the cups and plate from the blanket, taking his shoulders gently as you both laid on the ground, your eyes looking at each other, taking his hand into yours.

“It's alright to not be fine, you know… I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”

“It’s… I’m not thinking about it most of the time… I just have nightmares… it’s hard sometimes.”

“And that’s completely logical, Luffy, you’ve been through hell! I collapsed when I heard the news and couldn’t be with you. I would have run to you if I could. I love you so much and I’m sorry I wasn’t there and…”

You were the one tearing up now, cheeks red from embarrassment as the words slipped through your mouth without thinking. You knew Luffy would be shattered when you heard about Ace. The only thing you wanted was to hug him until you pulled all his pieces back together. He met your gaze. Luffy was never interested in romance. He didn’t thought he needed it. Until he met you and for the first time, he wanted someone to join his crew not only because he wanted them as a friend and they’d be a great addition, but because he felt something different, something he couldn’t quite understand. The only thing he knew was that he loved you a little differently than the rest of his friends. It was his turn to brush the tears off your face now and you melted from his touch. You tried to speak but before you could, his hand, warm and slightly trembling, cup your cheek. His lips pressed into yours, just for a moment, before drawing back only inches from your face.

“I think I love you too.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding against your ribs. Never had you thought you’d hear those words from Luffy. Of course, you knew he loved everyone in the crew, but this felt different. You felt like you would burst into flames as you blushed even more.

“You, you do?!”

“Yeah… you’re sweet and strong… always by my side… you’re very important to me…”

You let out a gasp of surprise as you hugged him tightly and crushed your lips into his clumsily, both of you laughing at your enthusiasm. Small, sweet kisses evolved into longer, more passionately ones and soon you were underneath him, his hands caressing your thigh beneath your dress, your hands slowly pushing his vest off of him.

“Are you okay?”

“I am, you?”

“Me too.”

Soon, your clothes landed somewhere else in the room as you felt him caressing your skin everywhere and you gasped into the kiss, him taking advantage of your parted lips to push his tongue into your mouth, tangling it messily with yours. His lips travelled down your neck and lower, soon to be between your legs. A feeling of self-consciousness crept over you as you closed your legs and he smiled up at you as he caressed your thigh.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can stop if you want.”

“No, I want this, I’ve just… never do this before…”

“Neither do I. We’ll find it together. But I want you to be comfortable. You can stop me if you don’t feel okay.”

You smile down at him and relaxed a bit, allowing him to spread your legs and start kissing the inside of your thighs. It felt so good to share another experience with him, and his touch was gentler than you thought it would be. He positioned your thighs on his shoulders and before you could react, his mouth was on you, his tongue licking a stripe before latching onto your clit. Your head fell back immediately as a choked out moan slipped through your mouth, one hand flying to his hair, pulling on his locks gently as the other grasped the blanket beneath you. His eyes were on you, his look was magnetic and focused on the task of making you feel good. A finger circling your tight hole, it pushed inside you slowly as he sucked on your clit, making you whimper from the pleasurable feeling. The stretching inside you new and welcomed, a combination of his mouth and a second finger breaching in has your orgasm approaching faster than you expected. He curled his fingers upwards, hitting repeatedly a spot you had never reached before on your own and it pushed you over the edge unexpectedly. He smiles against you as small moans left your mouth, your whole body shaking, your head spinning.

Coming down from your high, he crawls back on top of you and kisses you passionately, your tongues intertwining. You can taste yourself through the kiss, and it makes you long for more. He breaks the kiss and smiles down at you.

“How was that?”

“Luffy, it was… amazing. How did you know-”

“Didn’t. Just did what felt right. Are you okay to continue?”

You nodded eagerly and he grinned at you, his lips back on yours again. Your hand sneaks between your bodies to grab his dick, gently pumping him up and down, bringing him close to your folds. He moans into the kiss and swats your hand away, gliding himself between your now soaked pussy, his tip touching your clit every time, sending small jolts of pleasure down your spine. He breaks the kiss, his face only inches apart from yours, staring into your eyes.

“You’re sure?”, he whispered.

“Yes captain, please…”

A shiver run through his body as he hears your plead, and he moves his tip against your entrance, pushing in. A small gasp escape you and a sharp hiss leaves his mouth as he slowly slides into you, his movements awkward but gentle, the feeling of your warmth around him making him slightly tremble as he bottoms out. It felt slightly uncomfortable for you at first but the pain you expected to feel was nowhere to be found. His lips were on your neck, nibbling and sucking gently while his arms roamed your body, trying to make you relax as he stayed still, waiting for you to adjust to him. A few moments passed and your hand cupped his chin, bringing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

“Feels better now?”

“Yes, Luffy… please, move…”

He smiled down at you and placed another soft kiss on your lips as he began to move, taking it slow and tender, setting a rhythm that made you gasp, the pleasure spreading over you. One of his hands on yours, intertwining your fingers as the other grabbed your thigh to keep you against him, his forehead on yours, eyes closed as you both relished the feeling of your bodies pressed together. His speed picked up slightly as he finds a steady rhythm and you moan his name, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close. He smiles widely and kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, your fingers running through his hair, gently tugging at his dark locks.

One hand gripped your thigh rougher now, pushing it upwards, the shift in position allowing him to go deeper, the other sneaking between your bodies to rub at your clit. Your face buries in the crook of his neck, trying to choke down your moans, the knot in your stomach tightening as his thrusts grow faster and sloppier, you feel that he’s close too.

Your lips connect again in a messy kiss and your back arches as you come undone, crying out through the kiss, your nails dragging down his back. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck, his hands grab your hips to drag you to him as he fucks you through your high, his hips stuttering, feeling your walls squeezing him tight, pushing him over the edge with you.

You stay like this for a while, hands wrapped around each other, his face buried in the crook of your neck, savoring the moment. He places a tender kiss on your cheek and turns to face you, his head on your shoulder.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel… wonderful…” you say with a sigh as you smile up at him. His hand caressing you cheek, he placed another sweet kiss before stretching his hand to grab another blanket nearby, covering the both of you. He then lies flat on top of you again, his arms wrapping around you, and closes his eyes, still inside you.

“Luff, we…”

“Can’t move, I feel snuggly right now.”

You laugh softly as you hug him back, feeling his breath slow down as he slowly falls asleep, your eyelids getting heavy as well, a content smile playing on your lips.

“Goodnight dummy…”

[suashii]

— 𝒽𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓀 ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 0.7k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ papa!sunaﾉ repost!

a/n: happy father's day! here's the last installation of hq dads — kuroo, atsumu, & osamu have already been written :3

“you hafta close your eyes! it’s a rule, dad.”

suna chuckles at his daughter’s exclamation. she is beginning to grow tired of his silly antics. they’re meant to be playing hide-and-seek but he’s been messing around with her, covering his eyes with a hand but leaving a gap between his fingers so he could peek through them. 

“fine, fine, i’ll close them,” he agrees, letting his eyelids drift shut. “what next?”

“count to…” the girl frowns, not able to think of a number suitable for the game off the top of her head. even though he can’t see her, suna can tell the girl is racking her brain for the highest number she can fathom. he smiles at her determination but ultimately decides to give her a hand.

“thirty?” suna suggests.

“yeah! and you gotta count loud.”

he still can’t see the girl standing in front of him, but suna imagines she’s pointing an accusing finger at him. ever since he introduced the game to her, she was sure to take all the rules seriously. it would be cheating if suna didn’t count loud enough for her to hear him.

“i’ll be as loud as i can.”

“good,” she nods. “okay, start now.”

“one—” he can hear tiny footsteps racing off as soon as he begins to count. he holds back a laugh and continues to call out the numbers until he reaches thirty.

“ready or not, here i come,” suna announces, opening his eyes and getting up from his place on the couch. he always starts with places she’s hidden in before; under your shared bed, in the bathtub—the clever girl had even closed herself off in one of the low cabinets in the kitchen. the sky is the limit for her; so long as she can reach it, it’s fair game.

none of the searches in those areas yield any results. in all the times the two of them played the game, the girl has never used the same spot twice. smart little thing. suna is working with nothing.

he decides that his best bet is to go through all the rooms in the house one by one. the master bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen are all out of the question, so suna makes his way to the girl’s bedroom. he plucks her blankets and stuffed animals up, looking underneath them to see if she buried herself beneath the plentiful bedding. nothing. he opens the closet and scans the floor to see if she’s curled up next to her shoes. nothing.

suna clicks his tongue and exits the room, leisurely walking down the hallway and back to the living room. it’s not likely that she hid in the very place he was counting, but to be safe, he chooses to survey the room anyway; behind the curtains, in the storage ottoman, anywhere she could squeeze her little body. every possible hiding spot is empty.

“all right, little lady, where are you?” suna says, more to himself than his daughter. he’s usually a little quicker to find her and is having trouble thinking of anywhere else she could have possibly hidden. though, there are still a couple of rooms to search.

the dining room is vacant.

suna sighs as he opens the washer and dryer in the laundry room. he should be relieved that she isn’t in such dangerous appliances, but instead, panic is starting to set in. he’s getting nervous that she had broken the “stay inside the house” rule when he hears a short, muffled giggle from the place at his feet. he freezes, his eyes darting down to the floor. 

the laundry basket that’s flipped upside-down shifts ever so slightly on the tiles. suna smiles, lifting up the plastic basket to reveal the girl crouched down, arms wrapped around herself so that she could fit under the object. “found you.”

“dang it.” she pouts.

suna sets the basket off to the side before picking the little girl up. he kisses her cheek while gently pinching the other one. “you’re getting too good at this game. you might be even better than i am.”

“i’m so good at it you won’t find me next time.”

he knows her words only stem from her competitive side, but suna’s heart jumps at them. the whole experience was more of a scare than he was expecting when he agreed to play with her. but if one thing is for certain, it’s that he would never stop looking until his little girl was back in his arms.

he hums and shakes his head. “i’ll always find you.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[paradiseprincesss]

please, please, please | jonathan crane

please please please by sabrina carpenter has been playing in my head nonstop...and the music video? that has jonathan crane and his gf written ALL over it. also i promise I AM WORKING ON REQUESTS i swear.

summary: you warn jonathan not to embarrass you at your dinner party — you know how he is sometimes. thankfully, disasters were avoided during dinner and as a reward, you let him try something new in the bedroom with you that he's been wanting to do.

warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, sex toys (butt plug), anal but only using the toy lol, jonathan kills someone, talk of dead bodies lmfao? mdni 18+ only

word count: 3.9k

masterlist

"what did you do?!" you whisper yell at jonathan, who was currently staring at you with hearts in his eyes and a sheepish smile.

"i didn't know he was going to react this way, swear it," he says quietly, "i just wanted to see what a concentrated dose would do."

you look at the man slumped over on your apartment couch, seemingly dead. you turn your head to jonathan silently, looking at him incredulously as he kept that sheepish smile plastered on his face.

your boyfriend, doctor jonathan crane, had "accidentally" — that's what he claims — murdered your electrician with a too high dose of his fear toxin. he swore that he had thought some man had broken into your house and he was only trying to protect you; which yes, you found sweet, but there was also the issue of the now dead electrician in your living room.

"i swear baby," he says with his hands up defensively, "i thought he broke in."

"i told you that the electrician was coming by today!"

jonathan laughs awkwardly for a moment, but he pulled you close and gave you a little kiss on the forehead. "i'm sorry darling. don't be mad, please."

you let him pull you close, relaxing into his touch, "jonathan, what are we supposed to do with his body? we have dinner guests coming over in less than two hours."

"i got it," he assures you, "don't worry. i'm sure if i just hide his body in the meantime, nobody will notice."

you groan, wriggling out of his grasp as you leave him to it. you get ready, doing your makeup and hair, before picking out on outfit for your dinner party.

you and jonathan recently moved in together, and though you had been dating for quite some time, he hadn't really met your friends all that much. sure, he'd seen them a handful of times, but you wanted your friends to get to know him better — i mean hey, they had asked to.

honestly, you thought you had good judgement and you thought you had good taste. i mean, you managed to snag a handsome, intelligent, financially stable doctor; what else could a girl ask for? and look — yes, you may of had a small, tiny, little track record of dating mentally unstable, dangerous, and wild men but you swore jonathan was different.

he wasn't unstable, dangerous and wild. no, no, no — he was calculated, precise and a murderer! three totally different traits than what you usually go for.

"look at you, baby," jonathan cooed as he watched you walk into the kitchen, "you're the prettiest, my god."

you blush, shaking your head bashfully as you pull him into a kiss, admiring his every feature. "i love you, jon."

"i love you, too."

"but listen to me," you say softly, trying your hardest to sound menacing, "you're a doctor — so act like one. please don't kill one of our guests or anything."

"only for you, darling." he says with a smile, hands resting on your hips.

the doorbell to your apartment rang, and you made your way to the door with jonathan, hand in hand. "oh, and one more thing," you say quickly reaching to unlock your front door, "i beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker."

jonathan holds back a laugh at your not-so-threatening threat as you let your friends in, and the night goes by without a hitch. you don't know where jonathan has hid the dead body in your apartment, but you don't care as long as your guests don't fucking find it.

"it was great getting to see you two again. you guys are so wonderful together. congratulations on the new place, by the way!" your friend tells you as you all wrap up dinner, a few of the other dinner guests still finishing off their wine.

"thank you!" you gush, smiling happily, "we really love it here, right jonathan?"

"yes, darling. it's quite lovely, isn't it?" he replies softly, caressing your hand with his.

"your patio is gorgeous, by the way — great view of the city. we should have a drink out there, it's still early!" another one of your guests suggests, and jonathan shoots you a look.

oh, so that's where he hid the body — on the fucking balcony where anyone could see.

"o-oh!" you stammer, "um, you know, the summer weather is great. wonderful, really — but like, isn't the inside of our brand new apartment just so lovely, too? like look at our new ceiling fan — wow."

your friend looks at you with a confused expression, and she laughs a little awkwardly. "yeah totally, the interior design is so...great."

"yeah, so i have a fun idea," you say rather enthusiastically, to which jonathan has to look away to stop himself from laughing, "maybe let's stay inside? i know your craving some fresh air, but the ceiling fan is so nice."

"darling," jonathan interrupts softly, smiling at you then looking at your friends, "why don't we just schedule a time another day to have drinks all together? i'd love to keep the night going, but i'm afraid i have to work particularly early tomorrow at the asylum."

everyone "ahh'd" in union as they respected what he did for work — he was one of gothams finest, most renown psychiatrists, after all. surprisingly, tonight it was jonathan saving you from slipping up instead of you coming to save him.

as your dinner guests left one by one, you shut the door and locked it as you turn to jonathan with a sweet smile. "thank you for that, i wasn't particularly planning on my friends seeing a dead body out on the balcony tonight."

"relax, baby," jonathan cooed, "i told you i'd handle it, right?"

you look up into your boyfriends beautiful, pale, blue eyes — for someone so notoriously dangerous, he sure was gentle and sweet with you. of course, jonathan did have a soft spot for you and you only.

he would openly admit it, too.

"right, sorry," you whisper as he leans down from his towering height to kiss you, "i trust you."

he hums in satisfaction, then captured your lips in a kiss. his gentle hands roamed across your body, and suddenly, jonathan was pulling you flush against him. through broken kisses and breathless panting, his hand found it's way to your neck. when he gave it a light, experimental squeeze, you moaned into the kiss — he knew this was exactly how to get you going.

"go to the bedroom," he commands softly, "and be ready when i get there, darling."

you look at him inquisitively for a second, but as soon as he raises a brow; you don't ask any questions. he goes into the living room to rummage around for something, and you make your way into your shared bedroom.

you slip out of your evening attire, keeping the lacy, black, intimate lingerie you had underneath on as you patiently wait on the bed for your boyfriend. after a few moments, he returns with something in his hands — a small, dainty, pink gift box with a white ribbon adorned around it.

"i was good for you tonight, right darling?" jonathan asked softly, handing the pink gift box over to you as you start to unravel the bow on top.

"of course you were." you sigh, smiling dopily at him.

he hummed as you opened the box and your eyes went wide, "well, now i want you to be good for me, baby."

inside the dainty, pink, gift box was a butt plug, and on the end of it was a shimmering, baby pink, sparkly gem. "jonathan," you blush profusely, "y-you wanna do...?"

"i just want you to try it out while i fuck you, darling. see how it feels — it's an experiment i've been wanting to try out with you for a while." he says lowly, watching you like a hawk as you took it out of the box.

"i've never done anything...there." you say shyly, and he kisses you gently; of course he'd see sex as a way to experiment.

this was a man of science we're talking about, after all.

"that's alright," he assures you with a quiet chuckle, "i'll guide you through it, okay? you trust me, don't you?"

"yeah," you giggle, "okay — fine, but just this once."

jonathan eyed you down in your black, lacy lingerie as you shuffled around on the bed, bending over as you reached for the lube in the bedside drawer. he had to stop himself from groaning aloud when he saw your already wet cunt soaking through your undergarments — all bent over and needy for his fat cock.

you tossed the bottle of lube over to the side of the bed, crawling over to jonathan as his eyes turned three shades darker at the sight. after you crawled into his lap, he slowly unhooked your very lacy, very see through bralette, slipping it right off your shoulders.

his hands immediately came to paw at your tits as you rested your head on his collarbone, leaning back at the feeling of his strong hands tweaking your perked up nipples.

"jonathan," you breathlessly moan, "please."

"be good for me, baby — be patient." he whispered against your ear, nipping it lightly.

his feather light touch traced down, further and further until he got to your underwear. his fingers hooked into the lace trim, gently and ever so slowly helping you out of the undergarment. you felt your breath hitch lightly as the cold air hit your bare, soaked core, and you leaned further back into jonathan.

jonathan — who by the way, was still fully clothed — swiped two fingers through your dripping folds gently, causing you to jump at the sudden pleasurable feeling. "you're soaked," he noticed, placing a kiss down your neck, "i've barely touched you."

"i-i know," you whimper, "but—"

"i bet you liked it when i said i wanted to experiment on you, hm? did that turn you on, darling? knowing that i'm studying your every reaction to my touch?"

you bit your lip as he spoke, cutting you off as you whimpered under his touch. yes — he was on the dot with his assumptions and observations. sure, you'd never used a butt plug before but hey, if it was with jonathan, you were pretty much down for anything.

"yes," you admitted breathlessly, "fuck, jon."

it was strange — the thought of him studying you during sex in such a...clinical way. it was a major turn on for you, in fact, you didn't know if you'd ever been so turned on before. jonathan proceeded to slowly insert a finger into your drooling hole, causing you to let out a choked moan.

"yeah, you're fucking dripping." he observed, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders as you relaxed your head onto his. after he fucked you with one finger for no more than a minute, he was suddenly inserting another — it was no issue though, you were so wet that his second finger slipped in without resistance.

you arched your back instinctively, letting out choked, breathless moans as you whimpered his name sweetly. it was like music to jonathan's ears — hearing you fall apart as he carefully, slowly, and precisely turned you into nothing in just mere minutes.

"s-so close!" you squeaked out, and jonathan was suddenly drawing his fingers out of you, causing your jaw to drop and you to turn around to look at him with disbelief.

"i know," he cooed, "now, turn back around and get on all fours. face down, ass up."

you looked at him with surprise, but jonathan was always in control in the bedroom — this wasn't new by any means, but it sure was hot. listening and hanging onto his every word, you do as he asks, getting on all fours as you hear him shuffle around behind you.

with your ass up and your pretty face down, you bite your lip as you hear the pop of the lube bottle cap being opened. you gasp quietly as you feel a foreign, cold, silicone texture poke at your ass — it was almost embarrassing how wet this was making you.

"look at how wet you're getting, and i haven't even put the toy in your ass yet." jonathan chuckled lowly, feeling his cock straining so hard against his pants that he thought the zipper might pop open.

"s-shut up." you try to retaliate, but it comes out more like a broken, desperate plea.

"m'gonna push it in now, okay? not all the way, i promise i'll be gentle — and slow." jonathan says softly, his voice easing your nerves.

though you wished you could see his face, the thought was soon wiped from your mind as you felt the silicone toy being pushed into you, stretching your ass out. thankfully, it wasn't painful. it felt uncomfortable at first, but the more he pushed, the more you got used to the stretch.

"how's it feeling, baby?" jonathan asked lowly, watching your glistening cunt clench around nothing.

"s'okay," you respond, "is it almost all the way in?"

"almost, just a little more to go. you look so good like this, darling. letting me do whatever i want to you, and you just take it like a good girl."

his words made your cheeks burn, and you whine as you felt him give the toy one more gentle push into your ass. it felt good, surprisingly, but it also felt full. you felt full.

"is it hurting?" jonathan asked with concern, and you shook your head no, finally looking behind you as you saw his face.

his cheeks were dusted with a pink colour, and his lips looked plush. he was extremely turned on — that much was obvious with just the way he looked. your eyes trailed down to the tent in his pants; he was so hard it looked like his trousers were about to rip.

"feels really full, though," you giggle softly, "i'm guessing you like the view?"

"god, baby," he groans, "i wish you could see what i'm seeing right now — your ass up with a pretty, pink gemstone in it. all stretched out and waiting for me to fuck your pretty little cunt, hm?"

"mm, y-yeah." you moan as he reaches for your hips, gently turning you onto your back as he pushes you into the soft pillows.

the butt plug still felt a little odd to you as you switched positions, now laying on your back, but it felt good at the same time. as your mind was focused on the feeling of that, you look back up at jonathan to see him desperately trying to undress himself. as controlled and precise as the doctor was — he was a needy mess when it came to you.

"hurry up, doctor crane," you tease, biting your lip as he huffs, clearly affected by your little comment, "i'm so fucking wet—"

"i'm gonna fuck you till you can't think anymore," he interrupted, his voice strained, "you're going to be so full with my cum."

his suit jacket was long gone, and now so was his white button down and tie. his trousers had seemingly disappeared somewhere as well, and his leaking, hard, veiny cock sprung free, hitting his stomach lightly as he took it out.

within seconds, your legs were spread for him. pupils blown wide.m jonathan was positioned between your legs, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your dripping cunt, and you whined when he teased your folds. "how does it feel?" jonathan asks softly, just barely putting the head in, "you feel nice and full, darling? all stretched out?"

"s-so full," you pant, "but i need your cock — so badly."

he smirks to himself; his ego clearly being stroked with the way he had you, his beautiful girlfriend, in bed begging for him and letting him do whatever he pleases to any of your holes.

with a sudden thrust, he slid into you with ease from how slick your cunt was, and you gasped at the feeling of his cock filling you up. jonathan set a moderate pace; not too fast but not too slow, either.

"does it feel good, baby? having both your holes all stuffed?" he asks, fucking into you gently as you struggled to speak.

"y-yes!" you said to him, voice shaky, "feels so good, f-fuck—"

jonathan continued to thrust his thick cock into your tight, wet hole and within seconds, you were cockdrunk. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you moaned his name over and over, incoherently begging for something. you weren't sure what exactly you were begging for, but as long as you were begging — jonathan was satisfied.

this is how he liked you — fucked out and willing to do anything for him. to be fair, he would do absolutely anything (and i mean anything, including murder), for you too. you were his girl, his everything, what he needed in his life — so naturally, nothing was off the table when it came to what he'd do for you.

but nothing beat the feeling of you submitting to him like this.

"god, you're already close, aren't you, my love?" jonathan asked softly, picking up his pace as his cock brushed up against your walls.

he was right — you were close. the way his thick, veiny cock stretched you open while you were stuffed with a toy in your other hole had you feeling ready to tip over the edge in just seconds. "insatiable," jonathan commented as he plowed into you faster and harder, "that's what you are, darling. look at my needy girl; she needs all over holes filled and stretched, all the fucking time."

his filthy, degrading (but also very hot) comments tipped you over the edge, and before you knew it — you were coming undone all over his cock as he groaned. a plethora of whines and pleas left your lips, but you were so gone from the way he was fucking you stupid, you didn't even realize what was said in that moment.

before you could register what was happening, jonathan pulled out of you quickly. he flipped you onto your stomach, being quite gentle with you, as he grabbed onto your hips, indicating he wanted you to be on all fours again. understanding what he was asking, you did what you knew to do — be face down, ass up.

"jesus," jonathan groans from behind you, giving your ass a light spank, "fuck, look at that."

you whine at the gentle spank he gave you, and his fingers brushed up against your other hole, where the butt plug was sitting. "j-jon," you whined, "please."

you heard him chuckle lowly, his cock brushing up against your folds once more as he slowly split you open on his cock. he was enjoying this far too much — the sight of you with that pink gemstone in your ass and the way your cunt took his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust? it was driving him insane.

"fucking beautiful," he groaned, "h-how'd you manage to get even tighter, baby?"

"f-feels so good, oh m-my god!" you started to scream into the pillows as one of jonathan's hands snaked down and started to rub at your clit.

as you were about to cum from the way he was rubbing your sensitive clit, he removed his hand which caused you to whine. he chuckled softly from behind you, fucking you into the mattress so deep and rough, you were for sure going to be sore for the next week to come.

suddenly, you gasped as your cunt started to flutter around jonathan's length. his hand that was previously on your clit, was now toying with the butt plug, teasingly pushing it in and out gently. he didn't pull it out all the way, but just ever so slightly — just enough so that every time he pushed it back in, you'd feel so full again.

"are you about to cum, baby?" jonathan asked sweetly, "are you about to cum on my cock?"

"f-fuck, yes! yes!" you screamed as jonathan fucked you even faster.

"s-shit, me too," he groaned, "come now, baby — fuuuck!"

as your vision went white and you creamed his cock, jonathan gave you a few more harsh thrusts before he spilled his cum into you. hot ropes of cum covered your walls, filling your hole up completely.

as both of you were coming down from your intense highs, jonathan pulled out after a moment. his cum started to leak from your cunt, and he took two fingers to push it back in — causing you to whine at the sensation.

his demeanour changed the second you two weren't fucking anymore — he was soft, doting, and loving towards you as soon as he cleaned you up. he helped you into his arms, pulling you close as the two of you curled up under the sheets in the crisp, cool, air-conditioned bedroom.

"that was something," jonathan says, being the first one to break the silence, "did you like it? i didn't hurt you, right?"

"no, you didn't hurt me at all, baby," you laughed softly, kissing him on the cheek, "and yeah, it was really ejoyable."

"i see. well, i'm glad you enjoyed it, darling." he smiles at you lovingly, pulling you into a gentle, passionate kiss.

as you wrapped your arms around his neck, you looked up at your devoted boyfriend with the most loving, adorable, and kind look that jonathan had ever seen. "i love you, jonathan. that was fun."

"i love you too, darling," he says, but he pauses before getting up with a sigh, "i'm sorry to cut this moment short, my dear, but i do believe that i have a certain...body to dispose of in a timely manner."

"you and your pillow talk, jonathan. it never seizes to amaze me — last week it was about that patient you terrorized at work and this week, it's the dead electrician on our balcony." you said with a small smile, biting your lip as you teased your deranged, doctor boyfriend.

"well, all i can say is that i'm lucky to have you in my life, my dear." he said softly, looking at you with those gorgeous, pale, icy blue eyes of his. "i truly do love you."

as he turned around to look at you once more time before leaving the bedroom to go deal with the body on the balcony, you smile at him sweetly. he had his bodies on the balcony and you had your skeletons in your closet — you just understood him.

everyone has their ghosts, right? and plus, as long as nobody else knew about the whole scarecrow and murderer thing, then it would be fine. it would aways be fine.

"i truly love you too, jonathan," you said after a moment, and you could've sworn that you saw the scarecrow himself start to blush, "but if you wanna go and be stupid, don't do it in front of me."

he shakes his head on his way out — presumably to dispose of the body in ways you didn't really want to know of. jonathan's voice called out back to you as he made his way to the balcony doors.

"noted, my love!"

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt 

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer 

@aprilsfrog05 @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii @stsrfujid

[estellan0vella]

Sometimes A Girl Just Has To Throw A Punch Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

The tattoo parlour is buzzing with its usual activity. The hum of tattoo machines, the soft clink of piercing tools, and the occasional laughter from the staff blend into comfortable background noise. Sukuna is focused on his latest piece, his tattoo machine moving deftly over his client’s skin. Gojo is joking around with Geto and Toji, all of them laughing and grinning. You’re behind the counter, designing a new tattoo for a client scheduled later in the week, your silver epilepsy bangle catching the light as you sketch.

The door chimes, signalling a new customer. You glance up and see a man in his mid-30s striding in, a cocky grin plastered on his face. He approaches the counter, his eyes scanning the shop before landing on you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, leaning on the counter. “I’m here for a tattoo.”

You offer him a polite smile. “Sure, what can I help you with today?”

His eyes catch on your bangle, and his grin fades into a sneer. “What’s that? Some kind of special needs bracelet?”

You stiffen, your grip tightening on your pencil. “It’s an epilepsy bangle,” you say evenly.

He snorts. “Figures. Women with conditions like yours shouldn’t be working in places like this. You should be at home, letting a real man take care of you.”

The room goes silent. You feel the heat of anger rising up your neck, your blood boiling at his words. You can see Sukuna’s head snap up from his work, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Gojo’s jaw drops, and Toji and Geto pause mid-conversation, their expressions darkening.

"What can't handle the truth sweetheart?" The man taunts you. "Typical soft woman in a men's world"

Before you know it, you’re vaulting over the counter, your fist connecting with the man’s jaw with a satisfying crunch. He stumbles back, shock and pain written all over his face.

“Oh shit! Go Y/N!” Gojo shouts, his voice filled with glee.

You don’t stop. Your fists fly, landing punch after punch on the man who dared to belittle you. He tries to shield himself, but your anger fuels your strength, and he’s no match for you. Just as you’re about to land another blow, strong arms wrap around your waist, lifting you off the ground.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Toji says, his voice laced with laughter. He holds you in the air, effortlessly preventing you from continuing your assault. “Save some for the rest of us, yeah?”

The man scrambles to his feet, clutching his face, and staggers out of the shop, muttering curses under his breath. The door slams shut behind him, and the room erupts in laughter.

You take a deep breath, the adrenaline slowly fading. Sukuna is by your side in an instant, gently taking your hands in his. "Come on, babe," he says softly. "Let's get some ice on those knuckles."

He leads you to the back, where he grabs an ice pack from the freezer. He sits you down and carefully places the pack on your swollen knuckles, his touch gentle despite his usual rough demeanour.

"That was certainly somethig," Sukuna says, examining the split skin on your knuckles. 

"Sometimes," you say, a wry smile tugging at your lips, "a girl just has to throw a punch."

Sukuna chuckles, his eyes filled with admiration. "Yeah, and sometimes that girl needs someone to help her ice her knuckles afterwards."

You lean into him, grateful for his support. "Thanks, Kuna."

He smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You know, you’re pretty badass when you’re angry.”

Gojo saunters over, still laughing. “I knew you had it in you, Y/N. That guy didn’t know what hit him.”

Geto and Toji join you, both grinning from ear to ear. “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Geto jokes.

Toji ruffles your hair, still holding back laughter. “You’ve got some serious balls, kid.”

You shrug, feeling a sense of camaraderie and warmth from your friends. “He deserved it. No one talks to me like that and gets away with it.”

Sukuna presses a kiss to your temple. “Damn right, baby. And if anyone else tries, they’ll have to answer to me.”

You lean into him, feeling his strength and support radiate through you. “I can handle myself, but it’s nice to know you’ve got my back.”

“Always,” he says, his voice softening.

As the laughter dies down and the adrenaline fades, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. You’re surrounded by people who love and respect you, who see your strength and stand by your side. And in this moment, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you’ll face them head-on, with Sukuna and your friends right there with you.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of ink and laughter. The incident with the rude customer quickly becomes the stuff of shop legend, with Gojo and Toji re-enacting your punches for anyone who’ll listen. By the time the shop closes, your knuckles are sore but your spirit is high.

As you and Sukuna lock up for the night, he pulls you into a tight embrace. “You were amazing today,” he murmurs against your hair.

You smile, resting your head against his chest. “Thanks, Kuna. I just… I couldn’t let him get away with it.”

“And you didn’t,” he says, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You stood up for yourself, and I couldn’t be prouder.”

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you.”

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. “I love you too, baby. Let’s go home.”

With his arm around your shoulders, you walk to the car, ready to face whatever comes next, knowing that with Sukuna by your side, you can handle anything.

[slxsherwriter]

Pay for Past Sins

Fandom: Joy Ride

Pairing: Rusty Nail x single mother female reader

Word count: 2,529

Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, blood, injuries, threats to a child character

Author's note: I wanted to play with the idea of allowing Rusty to show off that more violent and aggressive side of him since I've written him more softly. In the end, I actually struggled a bit with the way that he would handle things, so I think I found a way to go about it that suited everything. As always, not beta read. Mistakes are my own. Enjoy! Likes are always appreciated, but reblogs keep the creative muse fed.

Tagging: @tinalbion @umnitsa

Stickiness on the side of your face. A deep, pulsing throb in your head. You made a move to reach up and touch where the pain seemed to be radiating from, only to not be able to move your arms. A quick jerk confirmed the fact and panic welled in your chest. What the hell? The tightness around your wrists registered as well as the stretch in your shoulders. Your hands were restrained behind your back.

The last thing that you remembered was having dinner with Rusty and Michael. Michael. You tried to push yourself up. It took a little more effort than expected and only made your head feel worse, the pain sharpening briefly as you righted yourself. It took a moment, some slow breathing with your eyes squeezed shut, to let the worsening pain pass. Once it felt like your head wasn't about to pop like a grape, you opened your eyes. The room around you wasn't all that impressive. Dark, dingy. A dirt floor beneath you meant any movement caused little clouds of dirt dust to whirl in the air. It was quiet. Eerily and uncomfortably quiet. Panic curled in your gut and your chest, for a moment, leaving you feeling breathless. You had to get free. Where was Rusty? Where was Michael? Were you the only one who was tied up in this? There were a lot of questions and no answers. As you shifted your wrists, causing the material to bite further into your skin, you looked around for any sign of your son first.

“Look who's awake.” A voice off to your right spoke. There wasn't a body that you could see, just shadow movements. Blinking, you tried to clear your eyes more and find the shape of the individual that was speaking. “You aren't going to get yourself free. Might as well stop now.” The voice wasn't one that you knew, unrecognizable. But still, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

“Who are you? What do you want?” In case he didn't have Michael, you didn't want to say anything right away. As much as you wanted to know where he was, protective instincts demanded that you didn't put him in any more danger.

“You know, you must be really sick in the fucking head, being with him.” Nothing about the statement made sense. Him? Who the hell was he referring to? Did this have something to do with your ex? The two of you had been separated for nearly a year now, the divorce done and over. He was the one who initiated it. Despite the warning, as you thought about what could have brought you here, you continued to wriggle your wrists to try and get free. Footsteps sounded out, moving closer by the second. “That the case? You get off on the shit that he does?” Without warning, your hair was yanked back, forcing your head back, and pain to worsen again. A cry slipped from you before you could stop it. That's when you tasted blood in your mouth. The stickiness on the side of your head had to be blood.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Bullshit!” He used the hold that he had on your hair to force you to your feet, no other choice in the matter to avoid any additional pain. “That fuck killed my friends, tried to kill me. Too bad for him that I survived. Me and my girl. So, now is time for some payback. We came prepared and you are the key to that.” He kept talking like what he was saying was supposed to make sense to you.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you pleaded, hoping the man would either believe you or at least give you a little more context as to what was going on. If you knew what he was referring to, maybe you could talk your way out of it. Maybe. But if he had kidnapped you and had hurt you, it was likely not something that you could talk your way out of, but you would give it a try.

“You don't know what I'm talking about, huh? Maybe if you see his work then you'll remember. This is your home after all since you're his bitch, isn't it?” He pulled you forward before forcing you to sit down at a table. To your horror, your son was tied up to a seat across from you. Michael seemed to be knocked out, or sleeping. There wasn't any markings that you could see but it still didn't stop the rush of emotions that came over you.

“Listen, you can do whatever you want to me. I don't care. Just….leave him out of it. He's an innocent boy.” You struggled against the hold and the restraints with a renewed vigor. That only pissed the man off further, and the next thing that you knew, you were slammed face down. There was an audible crunch, and blood filled filled your mouth as it poured down from your broken nose. The pain caused your eyes to water and a small sob to escape.

“You think I care about any of that? You're both connected to him, so you both get the same treatment. He needs to know what it's like to lose.” Your heart just about stopped in your chest, despite the dizziness that caused the room to spin around you as your head was yanked back once more. “Now, I think you need a little taste of what my friends and I experienced.” You had no clue what that actually meant, but you knew it wasn't any good. Ears ringing still from the blow to your head, you missed the fact that he stepped away. There was rummaging behind you and then metal hitting metal that made you flinch.

Michael began to stir and your heart leapt into your throat. No. If he saw any of this….

Something rumbled in the distance. The man behind you laughed.

“Right on time.” He cut the restraints on your wrists and yanked one of your hands forward. You struggled against his hold but couldn't break out of it, even as you nearly fell out of the seat. A metal spike was driving through the top of your hand into the table. The pain was jarring. Hot, intense, and overwhelming, causing your vision to blacken at the edges. The scream that came from you was reactionary, a response that couldn't have been controlled and enough to wake up Michael.

“Mommy!” Shit. The nerves were on fire, and it radiated up your arm. Muscles spasmed, causing your fingers to twitch uncontrollably. The man moved towards Michael.

“No, no! Don't touch him!” The words choked through your pained sobs, tearing a raw spot in your throat. Shaky legs held your weight against all odds as you stood up. There was no chance there you could reach across the table and stop whatever was about to happen. Even as you tried, despite the way that it caused sheer agony to yourself. You couldn't let the man touch your son. Even seeing the fingers trail through your son's hair was enough to make your blood boil. “Mike, it's going to be okay, baby.” He was already crying, and you knew that there was only so much you could do to reassure him in the moment. The room wobbled around you, blackness creeping further into the edges of your vision.

He had mentioned something about another person, and the thought came to your attention. Where were they? Potentially others. As in more than one. A scream came from behind you, somewhere in the depths of the barn looking thing that you were in, and it caught his attention. It was a minor miracle that his hands came away from Michael. Though, that relief was short-lived when he produced a pistol from the back of his pants. His attention had been fully pulled away from the two of you. As he moved from the table, you tried to watch him, confirming that he wouldn't look. More screams before he was hollering out names. Ones you didn't care about.

“Michael, baby, I need you to close your eyes, okay? Please, just listen to Mommy. I promise everything is going to be okay.” You needed him not to watch what was about to happen. He nodded, sniffling, but ended up listening to you. Gritting your teeth, you grabbed at the metal spike that was keeping your hand pinned to the table. There was enough, just enough, for you to grab. Biting in the inside of your cheek and on your tongue in an effort to muffle the pained noises, you tried to yank it out. Getting free from the table was imperative to your health. More voices began to sound out, causing your hand to slip. “Shit…”

“Easy there, darling.” You jumped at the sound of the familiar voice, tugging at the wound and causing another cry to slip. “Shit, don’t move.” The warm familiar touch pressed into your lower back, and a low hiss came from the man as he inspected the wound on your hand. He murmured a soft apology and did what you had just attempted to do. His large hand, already covered in blood, dwarfed your own. He made it seem like the spike was nothing. It hurt just as badly as it came out as it had when it had been rammed into your hand. He pulled a rag from a pocket and quickly wrapped it around your hand. If you didn't focus on the movement of his hands, there was a significant risk that you would fall to the floor, feeling the way that your legs shook. His touch was gentle, seemingly going through familiar actions as they never faltered as he wrapped the rag tightly around your hand.

“Need you to listen, okay? Get Michael out of that seat.. Can you do that for me?” You gave a shaky nod, knowing that if you didn't get your son out of the seat, it wouldn't be good for either of you. “Good. Get him out of the seat and then find a spot to hide. I don't want them getting to you again. I'll find you soon, and we'll get you patched up.” His hands cupped your cheeks gently, taking in the bloody mess your face had become. There was something else he wanted to say, the familiar hesitant look coming over his face. Thumbs brushed softly over your cheeks. He had always been gentle with you. They dropped away, and he let you do what was needed.

Rusty watched her shift towards a darkened corner, behind some junk that remained inside the barn. The one place that she should have never been. With her and Michael safe for the time being, he could turn his attention back to the few that remained inside with them. None of them would survive the night. That much was certain. They touched what was his, harmed her, and risked harm to the boy. He had to shift gears quickly once more and go back to the anger that had been present from the moment he had found them missing at the restaurant. He had no doubt that she would have just disappeared on him, and that instinct had been right.

There would be explaining that needed to get done later, but it was hardly a worry. She couldn't go anywhere. There were two of the group already dead. He didn't know how many were left. At least another three, judging by the cars out back and the walkie system that they had set up. He grabbed the spike that had been shoved through her hand and pocketed it before shifting back through the quiet of the old barn. Their downfall? They didn't know every inch of wood like the back of their hand. It was different from anything he had dealt with before since he was worried about the two bodies in the corner rather than focused on wiping out everything that moved. He didn't have time to plan, time to use to his advantage. But it hardly mattered. Improvisation would have to work for now.

Silently, he slipped through the space, fingers curling around an old rusty metal pipe flecked with the blood of previous victims. Rusty paused, careful with the sounds around him. One was close.

Under normal circumstances, there was a sense of enjoyment in the actions. The swinging of fists, the gurgling cries and pleas, the warmth of blood as it soaked his hands and clothes. A sense of poetic justice that he delved out for discretions committed by those that just wouldn't learn otherwise. But this? This was entirely different. The movements were almost autopilot. His focus was getting through the entire ordeal as quickly as possible. He wanted to get back to far more important matters, which were huddled hidden in a corner. Crimson slowly coated hands further, violence unleashed in the brutal manner that left no question of what the outcome would be.

When the last one fell, Rusty let out a huff and glanced down at the body before him. Fucking asshole. He hadn't gotten away this time. The thought brought the realization that he had brought this upon both of the people that mattered the most in his life. Guilt and worry churned in his gut now that the job had been done. The barn could be cleaned up later. He had others to take care of and that would require a hospital given the extent of injuries he had seen.

You shook as you clutched your son to you, trying to cover his ears and shield him from whatever horrors were happening beyond the darkness that concealed the both of you. Adrenaline was wearing off, and the blood loss combined with head trauma had left you feeling woozy. All you could really do was rock your son gently and try to assure him everything was going to be okay through the quiet crying he was doing. Even when it wasn't. There was no way things could be okay. Heavy footsteps came closer to your hiding spot, and you scooted backward, pressed tightly into the tiny corner. It was instinctual that your torso shifted, protecting Michael as much as possible from whatever was about to come.

It was Rusty. The large frame of the man appeared and unconsciously, even though you didn't want to, your body relaxed. He was at the end of the junk pile that you had taken refuge behind.

“It's okay now, darling. Come on. Need you to come on out for me. Okay? Gotta get you, and Michael looked at.” Looked at? The room spun around you, the words sounding further away and more fuzzy by the second. “Sweetheart I…” The rest of the words couldn't be made out, hell, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore. There was wriggling and the weight against your chest and in your lap vanished. All before the blackness at the corners of your vision seeped inward and overtook everything.

[steadybear]

“ 𝐦𝐫. 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 “

𝐩𝐫𝗼𝗺𝐩𝐭: 𝐰𝗼𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝗼𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐭𝗺! 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝗼𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬?

content warning: 18+ NSFW, 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, trans male character, amab reader, male reader, oral sex (scar receiving), vaginal penetration, gentle vanilla sex, first times, misunderstood feelings, semi-drunk sex/drunk sex, a lot of confused flirting and banter, lots of kisses, lots of reassurance, unsafe sex (keep it in your pocket if you can't wrap up your rocket), this is pure fluffy vanilla sex and a little bit self-indulgent, as mentioned this is amab reader there is specific mentions of cock

" welcome back caller 🪷! connecting your line as we speak! "

" new contact noted! caller scar has been added to your phonebook - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “

"I mean, I understand why you would, with the inn prices being so high, but really?"

His fingers drummed on the market stand in front of him. Eyes wandering, he gave a slight shrug. "It's not as if I have any other options, do I? I can't exactly make a house appear out of thin air." Despite what should've been desolate words, the smirk written all over his face added a playful lilt to his speech.

Your face was tinted a cute pink, but it wasn't because of him. It was a sun-kissed hue tanned into the flesh of your cheek from the humidity. Still, he felt proud of himself when a polite laugh ripped through the heatwaves beating down on the both of you. "Well, still, camping might be fun for some people but you look like you're going to sweat your hide off. Are you sure you don't want some money to stay at a room with some kind of air conditioning or something?"

He looked down at his clothes, "Do I really look that bad? I'll have you know I'm quite comfortable." He did a playful twirl. You took note of the dreamy and far off nature buried in the depths of his pupils.

Another chirp of laughter passing your lips, "Yeah, sure you are. Your forehead is caked in sweat." You turned around, heading to the back of your small shaded booth before plucking a small beige satchel of coins out. You turned around again, just to find his fingers drumming on the table while his eyes darted just about everywhere but your humble shop's offerings. "Take it, tonight's on me."

Just as quickly as you slid it across the table, the bag was pushed back into your retreating palm. "No need, I'm not exactly what anyone would call... delicate."

Your own smile tugged at your lips as you shoved the bag of shells back across the table. There was a devious glint in your eyes as you quipped back to him, "No need to play coy, I'm not after anything." Your fingers brushed up against the back of his hand. "That is, unless you want me to be."

This time, it was his turn to chuckle. He only seemed further motivated by the challenge, smirk opening up his cheeks. The scarred tissue on his face uncomfortably hindered one side of his face, causing a more lopsided grin. Even if it was one caused by pain, the smile was endearing. It was imperfectly beautiful, uneven but genuine.

"I'm not strapped for cash," His eyes flashed a dangerous mischief, "-but I wouldn't be surprised if you were. You seem all too eager to hand off your money to any pretty traveler passing through town."

To this, your lips opened, closed, and then opened again. "I don't remember calling you pretty, but I can't say I disagree with that either." You still insistently held the bag firmly against his palm, gently wrapping his hand around the drawstrings of the bag with your fingers, "That being said, consider it some... local hospitality. Nobody in the village wants anyone to go to sleep cold or hot or uncomfortable. We're all just trying to make a living, even if we don't agree with each other all the time."

His own eyes widened slightly, but he didn't stutter or seem taken aback by the sudden sincerity in your tone. "I don't see why you'd help me, I can see you're barely keeping food on your own table."

You averted your eyes sheepishly, "That may be true, but I don't have trouble keeping a roof over my head." Your former smile transformed into a sort of grimace, "I know I really shouldn't be telling visitors this if we want to keep having any travelers stop in, but..." You took in a deep breath, "There's this Tacet Field that opened up nearby, and I- I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if you--or really anyone--got ambushed because you couldn't afford a room."

You shook your head and urgently pressed the bag into his hands, "So, just for my peace of mind, go ahead and just take this and get yourself a comfy bed to sleep in." You offered him a sincere smile, withdrawing your own hands, "I swear on it, Miss Chunhua makes the best breakfast if you have enough time for it."

He hummed, pretending to consider it for a moment.

Of course, he was already intrigued you knew of a Tacet Field popping up before any of the Midnight Rangers could make the time to come and investigate it themselves. But, he was more concerned with your show of completely selfless kindness. The amount of shells in the bag would be more than enough for a room at the inn, enough for a couple at the very least. If anything, he wondered why you had this amount just casually set aside in a bag.

"As touched as I am by your kindness, I don't need it." He dropped the bag down onto the counter with one hand. The other grabbed at the food he'd bought from you. "I'm more than strong enough to handle a few tacet discords. You don't need to worry your little head off about anyone like me."

You immediately protested, "If it's about the money, it really isn't that-"

You were cut off with another of his sweet laughs. "No, it isn't about the money. As touched as I am that you want me to sleep safely, I'm here to investigate the Tacet Field myself up close." He held a finger to his lips, "Don't tell anyone though, alright?"

Your eyes widened in protest, "What do you mean you're investigating it? That's-" You promptly shut your mouth. "With your confidence, I know you probably have some kind of Tacet Mark, but it's really not safe. Those things- they're-"

He shook his head again, lopsided grin only getting bigger. He held his pinky out, "Would a promise make you feel any better?"

Your frown only deepened, "Look, I know you think your Tacet Mark will keep you safe but I have a Tacet Mark. They're more than dangerous, they're larger and more aggressive than they usually are. They look like they're just about to rip anyone that gets close enough to shreds."

He shrugged, "I've seen worse."

"Somehow, I believe you," You remarked dismally, "But you should trust me on this. My farm is right on the outskirts of town and I've gotten front row seats trying to subdue those things. They're practically in my backyard all day." Your face contorted into one of mild discomfort, "Just take the money, if you want to be able to look at the Tacet Field up close, I'll let you use my farm. Does that work?"

He put a weighty finger on his chin, crossing his other arm across his chest. He snapped his finger, as if he came to a realization. "What if I camp out on your farm? That way, you can see that I'm still in one piece."

Your jaw tensed for a moment, seeming to think it over. It didn't help your conscious that he seemed to naively sure of himself. You didn't know if the nasty full-length scar on the side of his face was any indicator of his skill or any fights he'd actually been in. Perhaps it'd been some freak accident during childhood? You took in a deep breath. "How about you pay a fraction of the price you would for the inn and just rent a room in my house? I have one facing the back, it's got the perfect view of the Tacet Field."

He tapped his chin a couple of times before finally seeming to agree that would be the best outcome. He finally nodded. "It's the best of both worlds, I don't see why not."

You breathed a quick sigh of relief, finally letting the tension in your shoulders relax. "Oh thank god."

Your face flushed an embarrassed crimson when the sound of his boisterous laughter met your ears, dying out just as quickly as it emerged. He offered you his hand, one you took in your own.

"Scar, pleasure doing business with you."

"You're back!"

Scar couldn't deny the sweet squeeze your tone of affection had on his heart. Of course, he couldn't exactly let it be known either. The quaint grin that always seemed to be there was all that greeted you. "I'm surprised you remember me."

You tilted your head at him curiously, your own warm grin still on your face. "Well, it isn't every day we get tourists. It also isn't every day that those tourists show up wearing bright red."

He was pleasantly surprised that you didn't mention the brutal injury that marred a majority of his face. Usually, when people brought up his rather... distinctive appearance, that was their go-to. "It's been a while though, hasn't it? Your village probably had more than enough foot traffic to forget about me."

You hummed, putting together the same thing he bought from your humble little stand last time. "Maybe, but they haven't been anywhere near as memorable." You turned around with the little satchel of treats. "You've got this way about you, y'know? It's hard to find in anyone else."

"Hard to find in anyone else... you say that like you've already found it again. Don't tell me you've managed to replace me already?" It was obvious that he took joy in the momentary conundrum that flashed across your expression.

"You're twisting my words!" You countered, pointing a jokingly accusatory finger at him. "You're hard to forget, especially cause you're one of the only people that's actually made the effort to strike up talk past polite conversation." Still, you gave an exaggerated sigh as you approached the front counter again, lamenting, "It'd help if you managed to say more than a few words without squeezing a few jabs in."

His smile widened to showcase his teeth, the small twinge of pain as the scar tissue strained against his joyful motion brought a small pool of pity into your own irises. It wasn't one that Scar missed either. Instead of bringing it up, he shrugged, "Life's too short to not cause some mischief, right? I'd be way too bored if I didn't at least poke some buttons."

You hummed, crossing your arms thoughtfully. You shrugged before sticking your tongue out at him, "Still, I won't forget anytime soon." You laid the little beige box on the table. "I'll have to get back at you somehow, I just have to wait for the right chance to do it."

Scar clicked his tongue in response, "Well, it seems you'll have to wait some time before that can happen."

You raised an eyebrow, "Well, I mean, you're here now, aren't you?" Your eyes softened, "If you need a place to stay tonight, you can set up camp in my house again--free of charge this time."

He shook his head, "No need, I'm just making a quick stop in." Precisely why he was confused he was even at your shop in the first place.

You nodded, "Well, just remember you're free to crash at mine anytime."

He chortled quietly before quipping, "What, are you that lonely?"

Your face flushed a familiar pink, opening and closing your mouth like a fish. You finally settled on snatching your box back into your arms. "You're awful!"

He laughed, louder, unabashedly.

You shook your head, "You're just a good roommate is all." You sauntered off towards the back of the booth again, locking up your safe. "You didn't stay out too late, you didn't make much noise at night, and you put up with my god-awful cooking."

He shrugged, "You're being pretty harsh on yourself, I remember it being pretty good."

You looked at him suspiciously, "Just because you're a worse cook doesn't mean I'm some kind of chef."

"Hey!"

It was your turn to laugh at him this time, swinging your keys around your finger. "You know what, you're right. Picking at you is pretty fun, I'll have to remember to do it more often."

He shook his head, though, it was clear there was no real disappointment behind it. "I'm a terrible influence."

You hummed, pushing open the small turn-style door to your booth. "I wouldn't say that. I just think you're a... unique influence. I don't really have many people my age to talk to."

He put his hands on his hips, "That's basically just another way to call me a bad influence. Plus, the fact that you don't have any other influences doesn't make me a good one."

You handed him the small, cutely wrapped box with one hand, "Yeah, but it does mean you don't have much competition." You pointed towards the small home at the end of the road, a building Scar remembered to be the inn with your other hand. "Say, let's go eat at Aunty Chunhua's."

He held the package close to his chest with a curious tilt of the head. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Instead of freezing up in embarrassment this time, you put your hands on your hips. "Only if you want it to be." You pushed him away from your stall excitedly, "To be honest, Chunhua made a batch of some of the best soup ever this morning and I've been catching a whiff of it for the past hour or so. It's making me really hungry."

His face caught a surge of heat, transitioning from a light pink caused by the weather to a deeper magenta. "So if I wanted it to be a date, it could be?"

You nodded, playing along with his joke. "Totally, I'll even give you some freebies if you agree to split the bill with me."

He snickered, "So you're only asking me cause you couldn't afford to get a bowl on your own?"

Your head bobbed up and down shamelessly, "Precisely," You threw a casual arm over his shoulders, "As much as I love her, Aunt Chunhua's prices are way too high for a humble farmer for me." Beginning to tug him along, "But with a handsome, rich stranger by my side I can have all the soup I want! So hurry up, I'm only getting hungrier!"

He breathed in slowly, "Handsome?"

"Yes, very handsome." Your eyes didn't divert from the source of the delicious smell wafting through the air as your mouth opened, "Your eyes are pretty, and your smile is easy on the eyes. Your face is really symmetrical even with the scar on half of it." You paused for a moment, "Speaking of which, I don't get why the other people in the village say you look scary, a scar is just another type of skin, right?"

He seemed to trail off into thought for a moment, "Hm, I guess it is."

The life of a Fractcidus overseer was not an easy one.

That fact should've been obvious to just about anyone that thought about it for a few minutes. It became even more obvious when you lived the life yourself.

It was all the more reason an overseer kept the people close to them at arms length. When you were constantly in danger, it meant anyone you associated with would also be in danger. There was no telling what kinds of hostile entities could get the bright idea to use a loved one as some kind of bargaining chip. Would Scar be willing to sacrifice that chip for the goals of the organization?

When it came to you, he didn't know.

You were this pure, unadulterated light. Sweet, untouched by the filth of the world. As a humble rice farmer in a rural village, he doubted you even knew the Fractcidus existed. Of course, you still knew what Tacet Fields were, you knew what Tacet Discords were, hell you had a Tacet Mark. You were strong and proud, never arrogant or unnecessary with your strengths.

But unlike Scar, you were completely selfless in your use of your abilities. Would you still look at him the same if you knew the depths of his soul? Would you peel back his burnt, horrid flesh, look at the demons in his heart and still accept him? Would you ever end of agreeing with his vision of the world?

He didn't know, nor did he care to find out.

For your sake and his, the question was better left unanswered.

He would keep his distance, he decided. He wouldn't ask the question, he wouldn't hear the answer. He felt a little unfair, plucking the decision from you entirely, but what choice did he have? If you decided to give the Fractcidus the time of day, your little life tucked away in your fields would grind to a strict halt.

There was no guarantee you would have a roof over your head in the night, no guarantee you would come home safe. Your booth at the town market would be left unattended every Sunday morning, you wouldn't be there to fend off the stray Tacet Discords that came in close enough to the village to actually threaten civilian life.

Even if he would be selfish in just about every other aspect of his life, something about your inherent lack of an ability to put yourself first inspired him to finally step up to the plate and put you first instead.

After his last visit, he knew he couldn't deny the brewing butterflies fluttering across the recesses of his ribcage. He couldn't stop the flush from spreading all over his face when he talked to you. He couldn't even really hold a real conversation without hinting at his feelings in one way or another, but besides his own feelings there were yours.

Even if you could get past his criminal pass times, would you be able to get past the fact that he didn't have the same parts as any other man?

He couldn't describe it, the way your own desires and proverbial thoughts intermingled with his own.

Alongside his own inner monologue, there was suddenly, a second voice. "The voice of reason", he called it. It argued for your needs and wants. You needed shelter, you needed safety. You might've wanted to be in a relationship with him, you might've wanted to see him more often, but giving you those would completely override your needs. Besides, he couldn't even guarantee that was what you wanted. Maybe, you wanted to be in a relationship with someone who could settle down with you. You might want someone who was born a man. So, since he couldn't be what you wanted or what you needed, so he removed himself from the equation entirely.

Or at least, he tried to.

Deep down, he was still selfish. He felt awful when he realized he couldn't completely put your safety first. The guilt churning in his gut only got worse when he realized you wouldn't have been able to bring yourself to blame him; not when he showed up to your door looking as pitiful as he did.

Caked in mud, soaking wet and frowning like a poor stray left out in the rain. Storm raging outside from every angle, thunder, lightning, torrential rain that made it difficult to hear your own thoughts. Blinded by the dark, at risk of running into any manner of Tacet Discords with the nearby Tacet Field.

"What the actual hell are you doing outside?" You demanded to know, ushering him inside. One second, you disappeared into the depths of your home, skittering down the stairs with a warm, dry towel being unceremoniously dropped on his head.

He didn't answer, letting you towel the muck and wetness out of his usually unruly white hair.

"Have you eaten yet?" You questioned him, throwing a stack of your own sleeping clothes at him. You ran around like a headless chicken, trying to get him comfortable.

More guilt dripped and dropped onto his shoulders like a leaking faucet as he stared at your dumbfounded face when he choked out his answer in the negative.

He couldn't help the sweet mix of fondness in his stomach the longer you fussed over him. Scolding him for not taking proper care of himself, poking him in the chest and telling him he was far too careless of his own health.

He couldn't stop the lopsided smile that snuck up on him when you pushed him into the same bedroom you'd provided him the last time he stayed in your home. Nor could he help himself when you yelled through the door that you were still making dinner so you had enough time to throw in some extra ingredients to accommodate a few extra portions.

'Just one more time,' He conceded, one more time he would let you take care of him.

'This will be the last time', he promised. Who he promised it to? He couldn't make up his mind. He didn't know if it was to you, the unknowing victim, or to himself.

"What's all this?"

You noticed pretty quickly, Scar had a habit of nervous fidgeting. Scratch that, not exactly nervous fidgeting but more bored fidgeting. When he wasn't doing anything, he would be bouncing his leg or drumming his fingers on whatever surface was available.

You set down the rather large bottle on the table, cracking open the top of it without a second thought. "It's some cider I've been aging. I wasn't really sure when I'd have the opportunity to share it with someone."

You didn't notice his smile falter as you turned around to go retrieve your wine glasses from a cabinet. When you returned to the table, his expression was the same as it always was. You settled yourself at the seat across from him at your little round table. "I don't really see what's all that special about me being here, I'll be gone in the morning when the storm's passed."

You nodded, "I mean, it makes sense that you're confused since you live a life of intrigue." You flicked the cork of the bottle off. "I'm alone a lot of the time here. Sometimes I'll stop into Miss Chunhua's to cough up what little money I can scrounge together, maybe sometimes I'll get courted by some lady from another village, but I don't have many meaningful friendships."

His brow twitched, but you didn't catch much of a shift in his face otherwise. "I catch your drift."

You chuckled, hand coming to rest on the sweet-smelling bottle of liquor, "Lighten up! I'm breaking out the alcohol as a part of a celebration that you're back!" You poured yourself about half a glass, pushing the bottle towards him afterwards, "I might live a lonely life, but it only makes every time you stop by more special."

He wondered, would you still look at him so fondly if you knew he would lead you to your pitiful end?

Even then, he couldn't bring himself to rain even harder on your parade. He took the large green jug in his hand before pouring himself a similar portion. He did his best to smile, to act joyful so that you would smile too.

But, you noticed the difference immediately. The fake versus the real. When he smiled genuinely, one side of his face would lift more than the other, a result of the drastic scarring. But, when he was pretending, it seemed like he ignored his own pain in favor of trying to look as natural as possible. Both sides of his face remained even.

"...Are you alright?"

The question caused the grin to vanish off his cheeks entirely, eyes raising to meet your own. He hated the fact that they were downturned, the clear worry scribbled all over your face. He made a crude attempt at reassuring you, the same practiced smile carving it's way onto his expression yet again. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

You didn't even try to hide the fact you were still worried. "Scar..."

A jolt of panic elevated his heart rate, tilting his head to the side. "Aw, are you worried about me? I'm totally fine," As a little last ditch effort, he quickly tacked on, "...maybe a little frazzled from the rain, but I'm okay."

Your eyes narrowed, creases inlaying themselves on your forehead. "You know you can tell me just about anything right? I-" You paused, "I might not be the smartest, I don't have some fancy education and I've never been to the capital, but I can do my best to try to understand."

His eyes widened, expression falling flat. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to write it off. "Hey, don't write yourself off, you're a lot smarter than half my coworkers." He attempted to crack a joke, but it was obvious it fell short when you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

"That still doesn't answer my question." Even when you were trying to be stern with him, you still didn't seem to have a strong enough spine to truly be mean. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I'm not some little porcelain doll that'll break if you say the wrong thing. I'm a grown man."

"Well, of course I know that." He paused, thinking over his words carefully, "It's just that I can't tell you."

You perked up in your chair, tilting your head to the side. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He let out a breathy laugh, "It's nothing against you, it's just... work-related?" Technically, it was the truth. He reasoned that it would be alright to say that much as long as he didn't really let much else slip. "I know you probably think it'd be alright for me to talk about it since you wouldn't know anything about the organization besides what I tell you, but it's confidential."

There was a pause while he waited for your response.

He let the tension fall from his shoulders when you reached for your wine glass, "I get it, rather be safe than sorry kind of situation, right?"

His head shook up and down a little bit too quickly for your liking, "Exactly like that actually."

You motioned with your glass to his own. "Wanna toast? Just to getting away from your problems for a little bit. I'm assuming your employer can't really reach you during a storm as bad as this on a little farm out in the middle of nowhere."

This time, his smile was as lopsided as you remembered. He scooped up his own glass and brought it to meet your own with a little 'Clink!'

He relaxed a little bit as he watched the concern melt off of your face. You took a swig of the cider, watching him take a sip as well. It was sweet, with a little tang underneath it. It was a standard fruit-infused cider. Still, to make some polite conversation he found himself asking, "What'd you make this with?"

You set your glass down. You instead brought the bottle to your face, swishing around the liquid to see if you could find any identifiers. "I can't remember if this was the tropfruit batch or the gemberry batch..."

Scar took another taste, "I'd make a bet on it being tropfruit."

You hummed, "Yeah, that sounds right."

"Do you want to take this any further?"

Scar took a moment to respond, still catching his breath from a kiss that was just a little bit to passionate to really be dismissed as anything but an invitation. He cursed himself internally for letting the alcohol cloud his judgement enough to let things go this far.

Even though everything in his mind screamed for him to stop things where they were, his grip on your shoulders was just as tight as before. His chest was still pressed against yours, his back was still leaned against the counter.

His glass of liquor remained on the tabletop just a few short feet away from where the two of you had semi-melted together into a tangle of limbs.

It'd started out innocent at first, he was teasing you like he always did. He couldn't remember when it'd gotten physical, the only real memory having been wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

It'd only really taken off from there, soon enough, you were hovering over him and his lower back was getting sore from the sharp countertop bleeding a line into it.

"I-" he paused. "It wouldn't be smart for me to let this go on for any longer." It was the continuation of that thought that would've really broken you heart. '-lest you find out he wasn't the man you thought he was.'

Even though he was the one to say no, he couldn't help the sinking feeling in his gut when you nodded at him. There was a deep regret coursing through his veins as you pulled away, going back to washing the dishes. He only felt worse when the selfish little part of his brain got frustrated when you tried to just pick up the conversation where it'd left off.

"You're heading out tomorrow morning, right? Where are you headed to?"

"You're drunk and you've already told me no tonight, 'm not going to take advantage of you."

Even in your insistence, Scar could feel your resolve melting when confronted with the alcohol running through your own system. The longer he pressed, the sloppier your words got. Every passing minute, it seemed a little bit more of your willpower seemed to slip past your fingertips like sand.

Like the sweet tendrils of temptation, he connected his lips to your jaw again, like a sweet promise. Even as he pulled away, he could smell the sickeningly sweet odor of the liquor left behind like a tattoo on your unblemished skin.

"What? Haven't gotten this close to anyone before?" He teased, shifting against you on the loveseat in your living room. He'd been sitting next to you previously, taking your drinks to the den so you two could properly relax before bed. Now, he writhed on your lap, straddling your hips.

Your eyes were bleary with intoxication, still trained on him as your eyelids drooped like a weeping willow. Your teeth were grit together, your hands on his waist as you tried to gently coax him off of you. "That's besides the point-" You were cut off by your own voice, grunting when he took the chance to bite down on the sensitive skin of your collar.

He snickered, grinding himself down onto your thigh, "No wonder you're so nervous."

This time, you truly made the effort to get him off of you, a sense of urgency in the way you called his name. "You need to stop and let yourself sleep this off." Your hands moved to be against his chest, trying your best not to hurt him when you moved to push him off of you. "I like you too much for you to sleep with me, regret it, and never come back again."

He cocked his head to the side, eyes finally meeting yours as he asked. "What if I don't regret it? Did you consider that?"

You blinked a few times, still sort-of out of it and under the influence. "I would've considered it if you didn't tell me you were uncomfortable earlier." You pushed against him gently. It wasn't strong enough to be classified a shove, just consistent pressure to keep his inebriated body from leaning up against yours. "Sso, go to bed. If you really want to do anything like this, you'll wait until you're sober to talk t'me about this."

He huffed, both understanding and impatient. His hands rested on your shoulders, moving from exploring the expanses of your torso. "Did you consider why I told you to stop?"

Your eyes shut in an attempt to make the room stop spinning for a moment. "No, 'course I didn't." While your sense of chivalry kept him from resting on you, your head rolled to the side to let your cheek rest on one of his hands on your shoulder. "You told me no, I did what anyone worth their salt was 'sposed to do. You didn't need a reason to say no."

He sighed, just barely twisting his wrist around to cradle your face. He brushed his thumb against your skin, his own eyelids starting to feel like they were solidifying into lead. "You're really dense, y'know."

Your eyebrows came down your forehead, furrowing to a point, "Who're you calling dense? You're the dense one, You- You-"

He cut off any and all trains of coherent thought when he pressed a seemingly innocent kiss to your lips. In your drunken mess, you chased after him when he pulled away. "You didn't think I had a thing for you, too?"

Your eyes blinked open at him, expression still a little tense. "Hm?"

He laid his forehead against yours, voice lowered to that of a whisper, "I stay away cause I like you. I don't want you to be in trouble cause you hang around me."

Immediately you were up in arms about his assertion, "That doesn't make any sense."

He hummed, "It might not make sense to you, but if you knew what I did, I feel like you would do the same thing."

He could feel the heavy breath that passed your lips. He could also feel your hands moving back down to his waist. You wrapped around him gingerly, tentatively. Even when you were too drunk to think straight, you cared so much about his comfort. "I'm not weak, 'm really strong. If someone came after me, I could handle it."

He chuckled, resting his head on your now free shoulder. "Yeah, but would you still like me if you knew I was the one that put you in trouble?" You nodded with a vigor against his own forehead. He combed his fingers through your hair, gently.

He let out a noise of contentment before drawing in another breath and holding it. "Even if I was trans?"

He could feel the way your eyes blinked in confusion, lashes tickling his forehead. "mm' so?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, forgetting how to breathe for a second.

Your hold on his hips got tighter as you pulled him in closer. "Why would that matter, at all?"

He pulled back from you, "You'd still have the hots for me? Even if I didn't have a dick?"

Your immaturity shone through as you chuckled at his crude language. You leaned back further into the plush of the sofa. "Yeah, why wouldn't I? I haven't really seen you naked before. I don't see why you'd think I'm only attracted to you for your body."

He could feel the revelation start to sober him up. His heart felt like it was beating a million miles a minute. He tripped over his words while he looked for the correct way to articulate his thoughts to a very drunk man, "W-Well, I mean yeah, but it's a deal breaker to some people. Not everyone is into that, y'know?"

Your eyes met his, the difference in your cognizance becoming obvious. While he was fully alert and at full attention, your eyes remained half-lidded and glazed with alcohol. "In all honesty, I don't know what I'm into. I don't have enough time to think about it." You gave his love handles an affectionate squeeze, "But when I do think about it, I think about you and how you make my heart feel all mushy."

He could feel his head start to spin as he tentatively asked again, "So you still feel the same way about me? You don't care that I don't have the same parts as a guy?"

You frowned, "What do you mean? You're still a guy, aren't you?" You put your head on his shoulder. "Your name is still Scar, I call you he and him and that's what you prefer, right? I don't really know all that much about it, but if you want me to call you a guy, then you'll always be the prettiest guy on the planet to me."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...Scar?"

"Help me take my shirt off."

"You're sure you won't regret giving me your first time in the morning?"

Even if it sounded like he was teasing you, you could tell from the tremble in his legs that he meant it. You glided your fingers towards his waistband, tentatively waiting for the go-ahead. "Will you regret sleeping with me in the morning?"

He shook his head again, lifting his hips every so slightly so you could hook your finger under his pants and start the process of tugging them off. "Well, there's your answer." You pulled them down his thighs, getting them to his ankles before he helped kick them off the side of the bed. You gripped his thighs with one hand, the other motioning towards his boxers. "May I?"

There was the lopsided grin you loved so much. He gave a quick affirmation, nodding his head with a playful, "So polite." Despite his eased assurance, you could tell he was still nervous. You knew this would be your first time, but you wondered if this might be his.

Your hand came up to intertwine with his, sliding his boxers off with one hand as you dipped your face down to plant a saccharine kiss to his forehead. There was a pleasant shiver up his spine when he was fully exposed, completely naked and bare for you to see him in his entirety.

Still, even when confronted with the countless scars on his body, you dipped down to his torso to worship every bit of skin you could get your greedy lips on. He shook with an added fervor when you kissed at his top scars.

The tremors got even worse when you were finally situated between his legs. He bashfully averted eye contact when he could feel you looking at the parts of his body he was easily the most embarrassed of. It only got worse when he could feel the mattress shift when you laid all your weight on it.

He let out a shaky moan when you delicately planted a kiss on his folds. Sensitive, he was far too sensitive. Generally, you had an okay idea of what you were doing in theory. The real advantage here was your impossibly quick ability to learn exactly what made him tick.

Your touch was ticklish against his skin when you pushed his legs over your shoulders. He felt beyond vulnerable when he really was completely on display for your eyes to see and your featherlight touch to roam.

You licked between the lips tentatively and slowly, waiting to see which part your tongue ran over would make him squirm the most. You drank in the noises he made and the trembling of his thighs around your head when you parted him open with your fingers. You closed your eyes when you placed a kiss where you could only guess the clit was.

When you earned a quiet whine in return, you turned a majority of your attention to the spot. First, it was a lick, and then it turned into experimental sucking until the nub hardened under your attentive care. His fingers wrapped themselves in the tresses of your hair, pulling on your scalp with each and every sensation that coursed through his body.

Eventually, you set your sights just below the spot you'd been taking care of before. With a hesitant sense of uncertainty, you pressed your tongue flat against the opening. You were rewarded with a harsh yank and a breathless call of your name.

You withdrew your tongue to savor his taste before you delved back in again. You drew little circles around his slit before further pinning his lips open so you could truly go to town on him. You pushed your tongue inside of him slowly, a rush of pride rolling down your back with the sigh that emitted from his lips.

Subconsciously, he pushed his hips closer to your face. Your nose rested against his clit for a moment before you started to explore his insides. His walls twitched around your tongue in tandem with the twitching of his thighs flexing and unflexing around your head. Your movements were slow, noting and taking in each and every little reaction to each and every one of your delicate touches.

He got impatient, a needy whimper pulled from his throat when he ground his pelvis against your face. To accommodate him, you sped up quickly, trying to remember which spots to hit inside while you did so. The building heat only seemed to worsen when your fingers came up to his clit, brushing against it so gently with both your nose and pads of your fingertips.

You drew lazy little tight circles on the nub, savoring his taste on your tongue while he all but did his best to ride your face. Soon enough, your other hand was at his entrance just barely warming the skin on the inside of his thighs before they joined your tongue inside of him.

One finger to start with, slowly going in and out at the same pace as your tongue. Then a second joined. At this point, it was getting hard to keep his noises quiet. A louder moan broke the soft atmosphere when you started to scissor your fingers apart to stretch him open. You started to speed up your movement at the insistence of his own rocking hips against your face.

You let out a muffled groan when his legs clamped around your head. The vibrations sent him careening over the edge as his back arched up into a beautiful curve. He spasmed around your tongue, mouth open in a beautiful mewl as you did your best to nurse him through it.

You pulled away from him, lips stained with slick and a different drunken haze in your eyes. You smiled as you watched him catch his breath. You wiped his release off your hand on the comforter of your bed, moving up again to hold his hands. Both of you were panting, one from a lack of oxygen, the other to catch their breath while they were coming down from the clouds above.

You smiled wide at him, obviously very proud of your work. "How was it? I didn't disappoint, did I?"

He closed his eyes as an embarrassed flush washed over his face. Chest still heaving as he did his best to breathe, he muttered out a quick, "Virgin my ass."

You chuckled against his skin, kissing his cheek. "Do you want to keep going? We can call it a night from here."

He shook his head, "No, I'm still good to go as long as you are."

You nodded, "Would you want to keep going in this position or is there another one you have in mind that might be more comfortable for you?"

He seemed to think for a minute, finally settling on one of the thoughts flying around his head. "I guess I've got something in mind."

"Oh fuck- Right, Right there-"

You stroked his sides lovingly, angling yourself to hit the same spot over and over again. Though, it wasn't as though you had much say in it.

You gave a particularly loud grunt when Scar let himself sink the entire way down, his thighs all but giving out on him as he tried to keep on going. There was sweat dripping down his entire body as he tried to pick himself back up, but he realized pretty shortly after that there really was no hope for him.

From his position on top, he leaned down to get a sweet taste of your lips and the remnants of liquor from your tongue. Pleasant sensations racked his body as you picked up his hips with your hands and brought him back down. He moaned into the kiss, his hands scrunching up into fists against your own sweat stained chest. He pulled away shortly after, chest rising and falling rather quickly. Sweetly, he requested, "A little help?"

You nodded, just barely out of it. You hooked your arms underneath his knees, pushing him softly onto his back. He molded into a curve, all but drooling at the tingles that exploded all over from the sudden shift in position. If that wasn't enough, it seemed you pressed even harder into his cervix and his stomach when you hiked his legs up over your shoulders. You ground your pelvis into his for a short second, but if felt like ages with the aftershocks wreaking havoc on Scar's poor brain.

You pulled out just halfway before easing your way back in, basking in the warmth that was the soft groan passing from Scar's lips. You repeated the same motion again, leaning down just like your partner did to paint his shoulders in your little marks. With the mix of shy ecstasy coursing through his body and a taste of your mouth on his skin, it felt like Scar was high on some kind of newly invented drug.

You shifted a little before moving your hips again, pulling out just enough to leave only the tip of your dick inside before slamming in to the hilt. "Right there?"

His jaw dropped in a silent scream, clamping down on you extremely lewdly. His eyes fluttered shut as the noise trapped in his throat escaped in a shaky call of your name again. He nodded his head quickly upon finally registering your question. "Just like that- Ah fuck! That was absolutely perfect."

He waited in anticipation as the slow drag of your erection in his walls sent another wave of pleasure careening through his nervous system, all but toppled by the sudden crash of your pelvis against his ass again. He let out a groan, only complimented by the sounds of your lips suctioning to his collarbone.

You started to set your pace, just a little faster than he'd been while he'd been riding. It wasn't much, but it seemed to be just enough to edge him closer to the finish line. His intestines tied themselves into a knot all while it felt like you were boring a hole into his uterus.

Despite all his act for being a big bad overseer while he was on the job, while he was in your bed, in your arms with his knees pushed up to his shoulders, he turned into a soft-hearted crybaby. He could feel your pace pick up as you twitched inside of him. The caress of your dick inside of him only made the knot in his intestines get tighter as he struggled to breath properly.

Usually, he was quick with his retorts and quips. He could only listen as they were reduced to nothing but throaty whines of you name and begging for more, sweet noises that melded with the creaking and slamming of your headboard against the wall.

He held onto your shoulders in a death grip, palms pressed flat against your boiling hot skin right next to his own legs. His nails curled into your shoulder blades, leaving delectable little red lines in a sweet mark of ownership.

"Shit, shit-" He clamped down around you again, chest pressing further against yours when your fingers came to draw messy circles on his clit. Hiding his face under your chin, he couldn't help the string of curses that dripped past his lips like honey. "Ohouh Fuck~ Shit~ Ahahn~"

Tears that'd been brewing for the past half hour the two of you had tumbled around in the sheets started to flow down his cheeks. The onslaught of euphoria all over his body sent his mouth flying open as he finally spasmed around your cock, walls fluttering like a vice.

This time, it was your turn to swear as you did your best to fight against the suction of his slit. You pulled out just barely in time to cum on his stomach.

The two of you did your best to catch your breath as you unhooked his legs from your shoulders, basically collapsing next to him on the bed like a boulder. He couldn't help the urge to nuzzle himself up to your side, only further encouraged when you wrapped a lazy arm around him and pulled him in closer.

He hid his face against the sweaty skin of your stomach. He curled into a little ball, suddenly very aware of the air that the two of you had previously been warming up. Luckily, it seemed you had a built in radar for his needs. Quickly and silently coming to the rescue, you dropped one of your fluffier blankets on top of him.

He pulled it around his shoulders gratefully before going back to basking in the warmth of the skin on your tummy. You sleepily tousled his hair before finally sitting up with a grunt.

He perked up immediately, automatically a little upset that you were already going to leave. "Where are you going?"

You yawned, "I'm going to go fill up the bathtub. " You snickered at him before playfully flicking his forehead, "Did you think I was going to bed feeling like a sweat monster?"

"No welcome home?"

Automatically, your head shot up from where you were bent over checking in some of your droopier crops.

In front of you stood your boyfriend of a year in all of his bright-red glory. Just as quickly as you registered that he'd actually come home after being gone for a few weeks, your face brightened up.

No later than that, you were scrambling to your feet and breaking out into a sprint towards him. The dirt crunching under your feet and the crops you were running through be damned, the moment you reached him, your mud-caked arms were around his red uniform to lift him up into the air.

His usual boisterous laugh ripped through the air as the clouds behind his head swirled into some amalgam of white you couldn't be bothered with. "I didn't expect you home for another week!"

He nodded, planting a wet kiss on your cheek just to hear the same laughter rattle from your own chest. "I just couldn't wait to see you again." The same lovestruck puppy eyes were all he could see before suddenly he was attacked with a flurry of lips attached to every square inch of his face.

He let you lavish him in all your pent up love graciously, a satisfied purr rumbling in his throat. Soon enough, you planted a long, lingering kiss on his lips, wrapping him up snug in your arms. You rested your chin on top of his head, secretly amused with the way he leaned forward to accommodate you.

Life wasn't always easy for the two of you, especially since the two of you had a rather unconventional relationship, but life was sweet.

He usually left for long periods of time on missions, he also did his best to stay away right after missions for fear of accidentally leading someone with less than pure intentions to your home. But every moment he had some time off to spend with you, he made the most of it.

By now, he'd also already told you of his mission with the Fractcidus. While you certainly didn't approve, you also conceded you didn't know enough about the political state of the Huanglong or Jinzhou to really judge him. Not only that, you really didn't have all the relevant information you believed would be needed to draw an informed conclusion on what exactly prompted his realization.

So, instead of breaking up with him for being a "monster", you just told him to be safe and you yourself kept out of his work related matters.

Perfect, right?

Well... almost.

Sometimes, staying away from home didn't exactly stop any weirdos from trying to sneak up on him in your house in the dead of night. Only to find a very cranky, very protective farmer with a Tacet Mark and enough pent up anger to fuel the capital.

If Scar just so happened to come home to see you dragging a body to the town medic, he couldn't exactly help the little rush of pride that washed over him. But most importantly, it brought him comfort to know that you were more than capable of protecting yourself when he was away from home.

The thing he had been most scared of when he first thought over his feelings was losing you. He didn't want to lose you to a dangerous life as one of the many Fractcidus Overseers working to achieve their end goal, he didn't want to lose you to your own differing moral values, and most of all, he didn't want to lose you because of his own risky life decisions that frankly didn't have anything to do with you.

The peace of mind that came with watching you, in your pajamas, lug an unconscious intruder to Old Man Runchu's shack in the morning after you'd woken and found them still knocked out in the kitchen was more than he could ask for. It also showcased your especially kind heart, being unwilling to truly injure someone who was intent on either killing or kidnapping you.

Especially cause if Scar was there, little more than their Skeleton would be left.

But that was a different matter all together.

He laced his fingers with yours, swinging both of your arms at your side. "What do you say we go to Miss Chunhua's stall for some Milky Fish Soup that you love so much?"

Immediately you picked up your chin from the crown of his head to plant a big wet sloppy kiss on your forehead, "You see honey, this is why I love you."

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

"rest is peace Scar's pussy zipper I miss you every day"

Oh my gosh hi guys

I'm back with another fic (not ayato mpreg) and this time it's for wuwa!!!

Writing this fic made me go back to playing the game and I finally finished the story quest and hello? Scar is so babygirl???? To the anon who requested this i'm including you in my will because I enjoyed writing it so much

I fear he might be a little ooc but I was possessed by some soft-hearted spirit while I was writing this

As always, requests are open and welcome but I might have to close them for a little bit cause I have like 7 in line right now LMFAOOOO

speaking of requests, i'm going to get around to adding a waiting list for requests just so you guys can see what's coming up and potentially when requests might open again, y'know y'know

kthxbye

- love, 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘵-19

[halliescomut]

Love Sea Ep 2 Watch Along

I am a couple days late because migraines suck, but I'm finally sitting down to watch ep 2. I'm gonna try to gives some first inpressions here, but we'll see how we go.

-Opening shot and I accidentally caught crew in the back of the boat. Hehe...whoops. Can't always catch that.

-When he says "what this man's sex taste like" does he mean literally or figuratively??? Like...I'm just not sure if it's wonky translation, or ???

-Okay, but the way Mut put's their legs together, but keeps their torso's apart....like touching, but not invading Rak's space....that's kinda hot.

-I do come from a seafood family, literally my maternal grandparents ran a seafood restaurant for over a decade, but I'm not a seafood person, so I kinda feel like the food stuff is going over my head.

-Like...I knew it was gonna happen, but I'm still blushing so hard. That eye contact is DANGEROUS.

-Peat's muscles!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!!!

-Literally Rak is so cranky that he hurt himself and cut off sexy time. His grumpy face.

I love Mook so much. I would die for her, she's so precious.

Are those generic baby shark bandaids??

I love how quickly Rak takes advantage of the loophole Mut presents him with. He immediately is like "you are correct, this is not my bed, let's bang!" (Also I fucking loved this line in the trailer. It's quippy, it's clever, Fort delivers it so well. Perfection.)

I mean...if your gonna engage in sexy time on the beach...oral would be your best option, so....

Jesus with the leg over the shoulder....goddamn.

Those hips are moving quite a lot Rak, be careful with Mut, you don't want to break him.

The mouth wipe.....I'm dying. I will say the timing was a bit fast there at the end, but like...legit portrayal of oral, and not just vaguely refering to it is new in Thai BL, so props for that. (Also it was one of my bingo squares. Yay me.)

I was predicting the whole "I'm inspired, we gotta go back to my room right now", but that did not stop it from being funny as hell.

Is Tongrak basically Mame's self-insert?? I just thought about this, bc they used the MMY logo for the fake website, probably just so they didn't have to bother with getting a non-copywritten one, or pay to use a real one, but like I just thought about this, since he's a writer who writes Y-Series, and part of what P'Vie does (I'm pretty sure) is make them into shows.... fascinating to consider.

We do see the cover for The Boy Next World, both the BN one and the orignal manga-style one...interesting.... As well as the cover for Love Director, which is one of the novels directly related to the LITA side of the Mame-verse....also interesting.

Rak's fake insta is hot. I tell you what, Mame shows got their issues, but costuming is pretty much always on point.

Okay so P'Vie is an actress...still involved with Rak's shows, but not the director I guess.

I really do get distract by how pretty Peat's eyes are.

Okay, Though he was just showering, but then I saw the motion... the blushing begins again. (Look I know I've written smut, and I watch BL, but I'm still Ace, so a lot of times my reaction is very Edwardian noble lady. I'm sorry!)

No, but I paused it to write that last sentence and the look on Rak's face!!!!

Rak is very bite-y. It suits his character, really. I Like it.

That was....very athletic.

I have thoughts about the sex scene. I'll save those for the 'Thoughts' post though.

I do think it's funny that Rak is so disturbed because the sex was good. That's funny.

Side note, I know this is an adult show, it includes a lot of adult themes, but somehow the Hallmark Movie-ness of Mame's shows makes it feel very weird when people cuss. Like, it feels odd for Rak to say Fuck there. It somehow just gives the vibe of 'see how grown-up we are with the cussing'. IDK if that makes sense, or if anyone else feels that way.

Mook's reaction to the forehead kiss is so cute, but P'Vie's got two episodes to get her act together, or I'm gonna start to dislike her.

I still don't remember the name of Mut's friend (I'm sorry) but I do think he's very funny. The actor is doing a very good job.

I know IRL, I would hate the entitledness/possessive-ness of Rak, but that was kind hot.

I love how amused Mut is by Rak. It's one of the things that feels like Fort peeking through tbh.

Oops...none of us did consider that a considerably long motorbike ride the day after some pretty vigorous back door sex may not be the best idea. But also, I feel like this is part of why prep/aftercare is important, and they (meaning BLs) should focus on it more. Like it's wouldn't fix everything, but it would help.

Oh, I really do like Mut's friend...who's name is Palm....I will try to remember.

I doubt this was Mame's intention, but I do appreciate the discussion of how franchised tourism can be harmful to local residents.

Sweet Mut so shy about taking genuine compliments. That's so cute.

Oh I'm familiar with that kind of manufactured flippancy when it comes to speaking about family ties that have been broken.... there be trauma there mateys.

God I have a lot of incomplete thoughts about this scene. I'm gonna have to rewatch and break it down later.

Oh, Rak is 100% a self-insert.

I do wonder when we're gonna get more info regarding that first thought about escaping though. It feels like Rak is trying to keep things surface level, but is accidentally revealing more than he intends.

I respect the attempt to get info out of Kom. I also respect Connor for not giving any.

I'm excited for the diving and underwater shots, but Rak--why the fuck are you wearing a small fortune in high-end designer jewelery for that?? like, leave that shit in your room dude.

Also, I've officially decided I love Palm and his doofus-energy. I will now protect him with my life.

God Bless Wetsuits! Amen!!

Sir what the fuck are you doing???? If this were a different couple I'd say Rak is well on his way to a spanking.

But also, this is so pretty,

Flashback!!! Yes, another bingo box, but also...why do drama parents always break up directly in front of their kids?

There's a metaphor happening about not diving alone and the flashbacks and reconciling his traumas in relation to love/trusting men (in a romantic way)....my brain is too stupid to make a cohesive explanation, but it's there.

I love the way Mut just looks at Rak... like it's fascinating how much Fort is able to portray with his gaze. I thought that during LITA, but it's confirmed here. Because, yes the longing/loving gaze is alive and well, but you can see the concern, the confusion, even the questioning that's happening. It's wild.

Well that's all for the episode. I'll probably rewatch tomorrow and thry to organize my thoughts into something vaguely cohesive, but no promises. Despite the very swift jump into the sex, we got a lot of insight today, into to both of them really.

[lilimonarch]

Doctor Hanahaki - The Memories that Never Return [4]

Doctor Hanahaki Prequel: Whumptober spinoff!

Whumptober day 4: "You in there?" and Lyric Prompt

~

I see the danger, it's written there in your eyes

Bokuto had recently declared his retirement because truth be told, he was getting old. Bokuto Koutarou, the star and former captain of the jackals was old, about 32, and getting slow. He couldn't jump as high, hit as hard, and run as much.

He had the discussion with the only person still in the industry, Kuroo Tetsurou. He was a few years older than Bokuto and despite their professional relationship, they had bonded really well as friends.

I think I should retire. Go out while I'm still at the top of my game, still a starter. Make it big, nobody cares if a sub is retiring.

You're one of the best players the court has ever seen, but in the end, it's your choice.

Bokuto stands on the sides of the greatest court in the world, watching the next generation of MSBY Jackals fighting for a spot in the play-offs, now 37.

Bokuto had retired, and a part of him was also sad his career ended without the one thing he truly wanted. Akaashi promised to be at his games, and it was selfish to be disappointed when he knows the other had made a career out of himself, but still. Bokuto could only watch from a distance as Akaashi surged to be one of the most famous doctors in the country. Bokuto watched his shows, watched the eyebags from restless nights grow under Akaashi's beautiful eyes, all from afar.

There was a promising next generation. In some of his last years, a new duo showed up. Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi, a setter and spiker who's skills rivaled his own. They were the perfect team, Bokuto was proud. Bokuto was-

In pain.

There was a sharp pain in his throat, as if thorns were stabbing his entire tract. He was standing on the sidelines as Miya hit a powerful spike into the opponent's territory. Kuroo was cheering from his position, his secretary taking notes as Kuroo narrated his own dialogue they would later publish for publicity purposes. "Kuroo, I'll be back-" Bokuto mumbled before immediately running out to find an empty bathroom or closet.

There was a private bathroom in the locker rooms, Bokuto running over to the toilet and heaving as petals and bile fell from his lips. Petals?

​"You're joking- no, you're kidding," Bokuto watched the petals float in the bowl as a wave of dizziness washed over him, him shaking it away as he slowly got up. "That... I-" Bokuto hated to admit it but he laughed at the reality of it.

Hanahaki.

"Hey! Bo? You in there?" It was Kuroo, knocking at the door. "They took a timeout, I figured I'd come and find you." Bokuto quickly flushed the water and any evidence of the petals before washing his hands, heading outside, eyes locking with Kuroo who eyed him in concern. "Yikes, you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost?"

Bokuto chuckled a bit, walking out onto the main stage with Kuroo. The teams were set up for another go after the timeout. "Is it obvious?"

"Yeah, it's all written in your eyes," Kuroo nodded, shooing off his secretary as he sat on the bench next to Bokuto. "But really, I've never seen you like this. Even when you fell on your ankle in your second year," they both looked back at the memories. "So... come on, Bokuto. What's wrong?"

"I was coughing petals."

"Shit... About that Akaashi guy?"

Bokuto nodded. In his eyes, fear... but peace.

[romanaisalive]

cast a net, bare your neck

Whumptober 2023

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”

Fiona Wachter / PC Dragon Age AU, first meeting.

Warnings: discussed fantasy racism, general betrayal and manipulation themes (orlesians will orlesian)

The ballroom was as glamorous as she imagined it would be. Everyone wore masks, one more elaborate than the other, their Circle-issued, self-modified ones didn’t stand a chance. She expected this, being glamorous was never part of her strategy. Even if she somehow got her hands on a proper mask her ears were a dead giveaway, nobody was going to take an elf mage into their patronage for looks when there were younger, prettier human mages available. This was common knowledge and part of the reason it took so long to get herself a spot in the group of mages paraded for the orlesian nobility. Nobody believed she was suitable to become part of a noble’s household on fancies alone and they were right, but her strategy was completely different.

It also meant she had one shot at this. It took quite a lot of coercion to convince the First Enchanter to let her come and her last minute tactics were… not for the long term. There was only so much backstabbing you could do before others caught on and her job was going to be much harder in the future.

That was fine, though. She was pretty confident in her plan, she just needed to scope out the target first.

She grabbed a drink and positioned herself close to the door so she saw the most while not being too visible herself. She ruled out the younger generation immediately, they were all an inherent risk and even if some of them were learned enough in the Game to recognize her strategy and respond they weren’t worth it. She needed someone more seasoned. She considered the Duchess but quickly dropped her as well. She was too seasoned, with far too many pieces on the board. She didn’t work her way up for this only to end up as just another pawn.

Minister Bellise was a better target, but she was too tied to the Chantry to even look at an elf.

Hm. She observed a few older marquises, walking arm in arm. Maybe.

She left her position to stand closer to them, listening in on their conversation. Apparently some older noble lady was widowed in the past year (nothing unusual there) and she still dressed in mourning, even after the customary period. She had children so the inheritance wasn’t in question, but the general consensus seemed to be that she was still considered a desirable marriage prospect, if only for her wealth. Her daughter was married off already but there were two sons, still free. The marquise were mostly talking about getting their nieces in the race which could mean securing marriages with the direct heir of the house, if they themselves had no chance.

Interesting. And probably the outcome this Lady Wachter intended. This way instead of a somewhat-advantageous match she became the one who held all the power of the Wachter-inheritance through her sons’ marriages, something much higher ranked in the Game.

She continued to shadow the group, keeping note of what they said, what they drank, whom they spoke to. She almost picked one of them (he had a blind spot for his niece’s fallings, something very easily exploited) when a murmur ran through the group. She turned towards the topic of interest and immediately spotted her.

Lady Fiona Wachter was standing out without looking like she was trying to stand out, a good sign in itself. She wore a black, but richly beaded dress with long velvet sleeves and a matching mask, covered in tiny crystals so it sparkled in the light of the chandeliers. She was walking slowly through the crowd, not exactly unapproachable but a calmer, more somber presence in the flurry of activity. She wondered how much of it was an act and how much a genuine grief, dressed up and used as a tool.

She personally preferred some actual emotions behind her mind games.

She stayed out of sight as Lady Wachter met the group, slipping behind a strategically placed curtain next to the door. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it was put there for this exact purpose.

The conversation was empty on the surface, about horses and the predicted events for the summer. She carefully picked apart every word. There was a possibility that Marquise Beaumont’s niece already secured a match within a different noble family and trying to marry the Wachter son was just a farce, but since nobody had proof they didn’t issue an open accusation.

Well that was straightforward enough.

She left the group and went to look for the girl. She found her quickly, she didn’t spend the last year or so with research into every noble family attending these balls for nothing. They were standing with her rumored betrothed which was either a rookie mistake or a brilliant play, she couldn’t decide at first glance.

They were standing close to the fountain, at any rate. Again, brilliant or stupid, depending on their intentions. There weren’t many superstitions about the Halamshiral ballroom but this fountain had its own tradition, all couples threw in a coin before marriage. She just needed to provide the opportunity.

It was easy to drop the coin unnoticed and the young marquis didn’t hesitate to wink at his betrothed and throw it into the water, with a move that was suitably subtle to anyone who wasn’t paying attention - so less than half of the room. Just as expected, this wasn’t the important part. She melted into the shadows and took off her mask, pulled the cover she added over her skirt and went out to the corridor. Even the nobles who were curious about the mages before ignored her, dressed like this she was just an elf servant like the others.

She needed to wait longer than expected but a younger elf boy she saw bowing to the old marquis before appeared eventually. She grabbed his arm and dragged him behind the door, putting a knife on his neck and her hand on his mouth before he could react.

“Think carefully of your next step,” she whispered in his ear. “How much did he pay for this letter?”

It was a bit of a gamble, but she liked her odds and she was rewarded when she let freed his mouth but he wisely stayed silent.

“Two crowns,” he answered quietly. “And further tasks in the future.”

“He will forget your face before his second goblet.” She slipped three crowns into his hand and put away the knife. “I will deliver the message.”

The boy nodded, pushed a slip of paper into her hand and hurried off.

So easy. Young people behaving foolishly led to the experienced players having to pull off last-minute damage control, she had no doubt the old marquis knew it was risky to send an untested servant with this message but he took the risk, just as she took the risk to intercept someone she couldn’t know for sure had the letter she was searching for. The odds were simply in her favor this time.

She checked the paper - a quick warning to be more discreet and do something that would hint doubt on the betrothal after they so recklessly compromised its secrecy. It wasn’t signed but didn’t need to be.

Excellent.

She hid the letter in her sleeve, folded back her skirt covers, put on her mask and rejoined the ballroom. Half of the mages in her group were dancing with someone, everywhere she looked masked figures conversed over wine, the party was in full swing.

She got a new glass and started walking around the gallery. The group she was following before dispersed, one was talking with the Duchess but she didn’t pay special attention to them anymore.

There. Lady Wachter was sipping a very dark wine, looking at the dancers. Her free hand was resting on the parapet. She wore one of the fingerless gloves currently in fashion, but her nails were longer and sharper than usual, filed expertly into shape. They gleamed with a much more subtle light than the crystal-covered mask, almost claw-like.

She walked up to her, keeping her eye on the dance floor. A quick movement, one she practiced to perfection through the years, and the letter appeared on the parapet for a second before the gloved hand covered it. She lingered for a few heartbeats then continued on, not even looking in her direction anymore.

She walked two rounds then went out to the garden and sat down on a stone bench. Her wine was sweet, a lighter taste than they usually got in the Circle and she took the time to savor it.

She almost got through the glass by the time Lady Wachter appeared on the steps. She kept half an eye on her as she walked through the garden, casually enough that even she started to doubt if she really came with any specific purpose or just to admire the fountain. Her path took a barely noticeable curve and she sat down on the other end of her bench.

She waited and watched the water.

“What would a mage hope to achieve by intercepting such a message?” asked Lady Wachter lightly.

“To show their capability, ma’am,” she answered. “Without using any magic.”

“Hmph.” Lady Wachter glanced at her without turning her head, the look behind the mask made the fine hair stand up on the back of her neck. She was caught in the sights of a bird of prey, still undecided if she was worth more than dinner. “What would loyalty mean to one such person?”

“The price of advancement,” she answered, steadily returning her gaze. She was many things but she wasn’t prey.

“What of the Circle?”

Would you betray them all if I did what you asked?

“It has some unfortunate limitations.”

I’ve already did.

A barely discernible nod.

“There are too many strange phenomenons around the estate, I could use someone well versed in the arcane. At least for a time.”

A non-committal trial period, she expected that. It was more than enough.

“I’m sure First Enchanter Dimont would be happy to assist,” she said. She wasn’t going to insult Lady Wachter’s intelligence by introducing herself.

“I shall speak with them, then.”

Lady Wachter stood up and looked at her, directly for the first time. She had grey eyes and sharp quality in her face even the mask couldn’t hide.

A bird of prey on the hunt and she just offered herself to her claws.

She shivered in anticipation.

It’s been so long since she played with someone who could bite back.

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 4: Shock, “I see the danger, it’s written there in your eyes”

We had to get to the bloody ones eventually—

This was originally going to be standalone, but one thing led to another and I think there’s going to be another part at some point. I couldn’t make it longer and I’m very stuck on the idea hehe

Warnings: blood & injury, specifically a stab wound, and just general battle violence and injuries

Read it on ao3

————————————————————

“Ugh, wizzrobes again?” Legend grumbled as he slid under a bolt of electricity. “We just fought some of these clowns yesterday! Did the Shadow just give up on originality?”

“Less complaining, more fighting!” Warriors shouted at him from nearby, and Legend rolled his eyes.

“Less criticism and more fighting!” Hyrule called back with a mischievous look, and Legend almost laughed, though it turned into a yelp when he dodged another bolt of magic.

Wizzrobes were such a pain.

Especially Wild’s.

Warriors shouted at him again, but this time it was a warning, and Legend deftly jumped away from a blast of ice that would have frozen him solid. He nodded a thanks at the captain, and went back to trying to defeat the wizzrobes, which was nearly impossible with how crazily they moved.

Legend dodged a fireball, and quickly turned and shot a blast of ice at the offending monster. It shrieked, and disappeared into a puff of smoke, and Legend swapped out his ice rod for a fire rod, and did the same to another.

The different rods seemed to work well, and along with the others all fighting together, soon there was only one wizzrobe left. It was in a color Legend hadn’t seen before though, and he looked at it suspiciously.

“Yours come in purple now?” he called behind him towards where he knew Wild was sniping.

“I’ve never seen one like that before!” Wild called back, voice uncertain. “I don’t know what it—”

As he spoke, the wizzrobe grinned, letting out a deranged cackle as it shot a huge burst of magic into the sky. Purple lights flashed, and a glowing ball fell from them, dropping down into the clearing and exploding into blinding light before anyone could do a thing.

Legend yelped and covered his face with his shield, but the magic still knocked him off his feet and onto the ground. It shook into his limbs and up to his face, his vision going white and spotty. It didn’t... hurt, exactly, but something about it felt all mixed up inside of him, jolting through his body and limbs, and he felt rather discombobulated.

“Legend!”

The sensation abruptly faded, and he felt arms tugging at him. Legend gingerly opened his eyes, almost surprised he could see at all, and looked up, meeting Hyrule’s worried gaze. The traveler was looking down at him with wide eyes, and Legend blinked a few times to get the last few spots of white out of his vision.

“Are you okay?” Hyrule asked, looking him over worriedly, “you were closest to that beam, it felt like an explosion went off.”

“Fine, fine,” Legend coughed, then gingerly pulled himself up to a sitting position. “Think it was just... magic. I don’t even think it did anything to me.”

“Nothing?” Hyrule asked suspiciously, and Legend shook his head.

“No. Is everyone else okay? Where’d that wizzrobe go?”

“I haven’t checked yet, but since you’re fine I would guess they’ll be—”

An arrow slammed into the ground right between Legend’s feet.

He jumped, and in one swift movement was on his feet with his shield out, back to back with Hyrule as he looked for the enemy who’d shot. He scanned the field as he looked for where his sword had gone to, then he froze, and stared at who had fired the arrow.

Wild stood across the clearing, his bow drawn with an arrow nocked in Legend’s direction. His brows were lowered as he stared at the veteran, stance unusually firm, and something about the way he held himself just screamed danger.

Legend flicked his eyes around, and felt his breath leave him as he saw Warriors and Sky both staring at him as well, swords drawn and angled towards him in a threatening gesture. Time stood on Legend’s other side, claymore raised as he stared silently at the veteran, and Legend’s heart skipped a beat.

He and Hyrule were surrounded. By their own teammates.

No, Legend realized with a dawning horror, sunlight glinting proudly off Time and Warriors’ armor, no not my teammates.

Knights.

“Captain? What’s going on?” Twilight asked nearby, Wind and Four looking equally confused next to him.

“Traitor to the crown,” Warriors said in a low voice, eyes never blinking.

“You kidnapped the princess,” Wild added in a growl.

“We have our orders,�� Sky said in a smooth voice, and raised the Master Sword accusingly. “Dead or alive.”

Legend couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t be crazy!” Wind said in disbelief, looking at Time and Warriors with a shocked expression. “Legend didn’t do anything! What’s wrong with you guys?!”

“The wizzrobe,” Four said with a sharp inhale. “That attack must have done something to make them think he’s the enemy.”

“Time, please, you know Legend, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” Twilight said gently, inching towards him. But Time stopped him with a firm glare, his sword never lowering. The knights all took a step closer to Legend, and he felt Hyrule stiffen at his back.

“Legend, you need to run,” Hyrule whispered. “Now.”

Legend couldn’t move.

Suddenly he was eleven again, staring at a wanted poster with his face on it, wondering why the reward was so high. He was eleven, screamed at by the townsfolk, and surrounded by guards just for trying to walk into the village to buy food on his quest. He was eleven, chased down by brainwashed knights and forced to fight them, some of them people he knew, his uncle’s friends, raise his uncle’s sword against them and hurt them—

“Legend RUN!”

He snapped back into himself just in time to avoid a thrust from Warriors, and Hyrule grabbed his wrist when he merely stared at the weapon that had almost killed him, pulling him away.

“Come back you traitor!” Warriors shouted, and Legend blinked, able only to watch in numb shock as Four and Twilight leapt to defend him, Hyrule still dragging him away.

Sky leapt forward, then cried out as the Master Sword fell from his grip, sparking as she was about to be used against one of her own. Wind took the opportunity to tackle him, and Legend watched blankly as the sailor wrestled Sky’s pouch away from him so he couldn’t grab any more weapons.

“Don’t hurt them!” Wind cried out, still struggling with Sky, “they’re not themselves!”

“Keep them away from Legend!” Twilight shouted as he crossed swords with Warriors, the captain swinging his blade with fierce strokes.

Hyrule nodded, and blocked a slew of arrows from plunging into Legend’s chest, then yanked him behind his back as he avoided a huge swing from Time.

“You’ve betrayed us all!” Time spat, and Hyrule crossed blades with him, nearly driven to his knees by the force of it. “You’re nothing but a false hero, poisoning the land with your lies!”

The words were like a knife, and Legend could only watch in blank shock, stunned as Hyrule struggled against Time, as Twilight and Warriors still fought against each other, Wind nearly getting punched in the face by Sky while Four tried desperately to get close enough to Wild to stop him from sniping them all down—

“Legend! Snap out of it!” Hyrule shouted as he somehow managed not to be lopped in two by another of Time’s swings. “You’re going to get killed, wake up!”

He wasn’t sure if it was the phrase or the desperation in Hyrule’s voice, but Legend finally snapped into action, firmly shaking himself. You can freak out later when half of your team isn’t trying to kill you!

Legend dove for his gilded sword, but hissed at the warning spark he felt as he grabbed it. Sometimes he forgot his blade was another version of the Master Sword, upgraded and changed, but at times like these it was impossible.

I’m not going to hurt them, I’m only defending myself, he begged as it got hotter, still stubbornly holding on even as his hands began to burn. Please, you know I’m not!

The hilt scorched his hands, and Legend was forced to shove it into its sheathe, grabbing in his pouch for a backup sword. Before he could though, something swung towards him, and he only barely got his shield up in time to block it.

The strike threw him to the ground for the second time today, and Legend nearly had the breath knocked out of him. His eyes widened as Wild raised a claymore of some kind to strike him with, and he just barely managed to roll out of the way of another hit.

“Champion I don’t want to have to hurt you,” he gritted out, but Wild didn’t reply.

His face was eerily closed-off as he tried to hit him, strikes almost clinically precise. Legend had to dodge all over the place, and he still got a shallow cut on his arm. Not to mention his hands were smarting from trying to use the gilded sword, and every time a hit rang out against his shield, he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Wild swung again, and Legend gritted his teeth and used his backup sword to shove the champion backwards, then grabbed for his ice rod again. His aching fingers closed around it, but then he felt his entire body freeze in place, yellow shining in his vision.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t defend himself. He couldn’t do anything, and he suddenly realized that Wild must have used the stasis rune on his slate on him.

No, no no no no no—

Before he could panic too much, the magic broke, and Legend stumbled, thrown off-balance. He looked around in surprise, then saw Four standing next to him, having frozen Wild’s feet to the ground with Legend’s own dropped ice rod.

He could only stare at him for a second, and startled as Four yanked him behind his shield, blocking the arrows Wild was shooting at them again.

“Should have gotten his arms too,” he cursed, then turned towards Legend. “Vet, they’re all after you, you need to go find that wizzrobe and beat it. That should break the magic, I think it’s our best bet. We can keep them all busy while you go.”

“But— you’re outnumbered,” Legend said a bit hysterically, his panic over the whole situation starting to come back, “not in numbers but skill, have you ever seen Sky and the captain duel? Not to mention the old man, he could probably take on all of you at once—”

Four put a hand on his arm, and gave him a small smile as he raised his sword.

“I can get us some more help. But you need to go.”

Legend swallowed, but he knew Four was right, and gave him a nod as he grabbed his ice rod and bolted in the direction he’d last seen the wizzrobe.

He suddenly felt like he was eleven again.

He caught sight of Hyrule as he ran, the traveler using his magic to stay away from Time’s deadly swings. He had blood on his leg, but his face was as determined as ever, and he firmly blocked Time from following when the older hero saw Legend running away.

“Coward!” he heard shouted behind him, but Legend kept running despite the sting it left in his chest.

He bolted past Twilight, who had an arrow in his arm and multiple other injuries, but was continuing to fight anyway, blocking Warriors’ strikes with a grieved look, almost like he’d been forced to do this before. Wind was still wrestling with Sky, fists flying as the Skyloftian tried desperately to get his weapons back, but Wind was determined to keep him down.

Every instinct of Legend’s was screaming at him to turn around and fight, help his friends, his brothers, he had so many items that could help them— but he forced himself to continue, ignoring a pained cry when he heard it.

Legend was smart enough to realize the only way they would all get out of this alive would be if he broke the curse. They couldn’t stand against some of the best fighters of their group forever— it was only a matter of time before someone was seriously hurt.

But no matter how many times he told himself that, it still felt like he was abandoning them.

This is the only way to help right now. You’re not leaving them, you’re doing what needs to be done.

If you stayed here, you would only make their job more difficult.

Legend searched desperately through the trees for a flash of purple, hoping desperately the wizzrobe was still in the area.

He had no way of knowing if he was looking in the right spot or not. For all he knew, the wizzrobe was long gone, but he kept looking, even as the clashing of swords still rang in his ears, and a scream that sounded a bit like Four echoed nearby.

Legend bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood, and ignored the stinging that had started up in his eyes as he searched.

The others were back there somewhere, fighting against their brothers, risking their lives, all for him, to keep him safe, and he’d frozen and barely helped them and now he couldn’t even find the stupid wizzrobe.

“Come on! Come out and fight me!” he screamed, voice breaking a little. “Are you afraid? Because you better be!”

A giggle flitted through the trees, and Legend shot a blast of ice out, the laughter only growing.

Purple weaved through the foliage, and Legend shot another blast out, obviously missing due to the giggle he overheard. He knew his emotions were making him sloppy, and Legend forced himself to steady his hand. He breathed out, lowering his weapon and acting as if he was unaware of where the wizzrobe was.

Come on, take the bait...

A giggle erupted in his face, and Legend thrust out his ice rod, making the wizzrobe scream as it was launched backwards. It fell to the ground, stuck solidly in a chunk of ice, and Legend pulled out his fire rod, prepared to burn it to a crisp.

Then something hit him in the side, and he went flying, crying out as he fell to the grass.

His side ached where he’d been hit, and before he could move, what felt like a foot stepped down on his chest, pressing against his doubtlessly bruised ribs and stopping him from getting up. Legend opened his eyes and saw Warriors staring silently down at him, sword raised to pierce him through.

Somehow he’d gotten past the others.

“Wars— Warriors don’t,” Legend choked out, struggling to catch his breath. “Link, please I’m not your enemy!”

“You’re a traitor,” Warriors said in a cold voice, still not blinking. He had blood running down his face from a cut over his eye, but his face showed no sign of pain. “My orders are clear.”

“Captain wake up!” Legend shouted, terror rising in his throat. “You’re not yourself, you’d never hurt any of us, snap out of it!”

Warriors didn’t react in the slightest, and raised his sword.

Legend felt a burst of panic, and he shot his arm out, feeling desperately for where he’d dropped his fire rod. If he could just kill the wizzrobe, Warriors would wake up, the spell would break—

Warriors’ sword went down as Legend’s fingers closed around his rod, and he shot a desperate plume of flame towards the dazed wizzrobe.

The fire hit it right as Warriors’ sword buried itself in his middle, and Legend’s scream mixed with the wizzrobe’s, hot agony slicing into his chest. The sword was pulled out again only seconds later, but then Warriors stumbled back, the weapon dropping from his hands.

Legend barely noticed, trying not to scream again as the sword fell to the ground beside him, already feeling blood start to dampen his tunic.

Okay, okay okay easy, you’ve been stabbed before, no big deal. Just because Warriors was who did it doesn’t change a thing, put pressure on it, you need to put pressure—

His chest burned and Legend couldn’t hold back a cry, taking thick breaths through his nose.

Goddesses please, not like this, he’ll never forgive himself.

“L-Legend?” Warriors said dizzily, shaking his head as he tried to clear it. He put a hand to his forehead, and blinked several times, wiping blood from his face with a confused look. “Vet, what...”

Then his eyes focused, and he noticed the stab wound in his chest.

“LEGEND!”

Warriors dropped to his knees beside him, and Legend couldn’t help but jerk away from him, nearly shrieking as the captain immediately pressed his hands to his middle, trying to stem the flow.

“Legend don’t move, what happened how did this...”

Warriors trailed off as his gaze landed on his bloodied sword, and every bit of color drained from his face as he recognized it as his own.

“Legend?” he said shakily, and Legend swallowed, unable to stop himself from meeting his eyes.

A sword was abruptly pressed to Warriors’ neck, and Legend watched dizzily as Twilight forced the captain back, the look in his eyes equally furious and horrified. Warriors jerked like he wanted to go back to Legend, but he raised his arms in surrender, and moved back as Hyrule dropped to his side. More of the Links rushed into the clearing around Legend, but Warriors only had eyes for him, confusion and horror shining bright.

Hyrule’s hands pressed against his middle, and Legend sucked in another trembling breath.

“It— it’s gone,” he stuttered, and felt something warm slip past his lips. Oh that’s not good. “Wizzrobe— he’s not— not g-gonna—”

“Don’t talk Legend, you’ll be fine,” Hyrule said firmly, and Legend wasn’t sure if he imagined the tremble in his voice or not. “Just stay awake, okay? I’m gonna fix you up.”

Hyrule moved a careful hand around his chest, feeling at the injury, and Legend tensed, hissing through his teeth. Someone’s hand touched his head, and he flinched, choking as something moved in his middle.

The cold he’d been trying to ignore was growing closer now, nipping at his extremities, trying to suck him down. Legend firmly ignored the feeling, despite how easy it would be to sink into it, and focused on Hyrule’s face, blearily realizing there was blood on his shoulder. He wondered who had done that to him.

The pressure on his chest abruptly increased, and Legend couldn’t muffle his scream, so many sensations hitting him that his brain couldn’t even process it.

Then something began to trickle through his middle, something that warmed the cold that had been falling over him. Warmth blossomed in his chest, different from the hot blood that had been trickling across it, and Legend exhaled, relaxing slightly as Hyrule’s magic wove through him.

Once he could focus enough to realize Hyrule was still healing him, he reached down and grabbed his wrist, giving him a look.

“I’m good, don’t overextend yourself,” he said a little shakily, and he cut Hyrule off when he went to argue. “You already used a lot of magic, I saw you.”

“You lost a lot of blood,” Hyrule retorted.

“Well I’m not the only one who’s going to need healing,” Legend said more quietly, and Hyrule stopped, the glow fading from his hands.

Twilight appeared in his vision then, arrow still jutting from his arm, and he scanned Legend’s bloodstained middle in silence. Then he met Legend’s gaze, looking much older then he normally did.

“You definitely got the wizzrobe?” he asked seriously, and Legend nodded, his eyes suddenly heavy with exhaustion.

“It’s dead. The spell broke the moment I got it,” he said in a quiet voice. “They won’t... they’re safe.”

Oh gods I hope they are.

Twilight exhaled, and nodded, putting a hand on Legend’s arm.

“Okay. Try and get some rest, Veteran. We’ll handle things.”

“Take the literal arrow out of your arm first,” he muttered back, and a faint smile pulled at Twilight’s lips.

“We’re working on fixing everyone up. Rest. We can... we’ll figure all of this out later,” Twilight said quietly, glancing behind him at something. Legend followed his gaze, and saw Warriors sitting on a log, staring silently at the blood on his hands.

The others who’d been affected by the wizzrobe were nearby, and Sky looked like he was trying to talk to the captain, but Legend looked away as Hyrule began to bandage his middle.

Traitor!

Legend closed his eyes, and tried not to listen to any of the voices that still rang around his head, or focus on the horrified look of Warriors’ that was still seared into his mind.

He didn’t want to think about it. Any of it.

[nade2308]

I was thinking long and hard about what to do for today's theme. Ultimately I decided on the parallels between Julia and Ilsa bringing Ethan back to life by having to shock him with electricity. These two moments give me feels.

@thethistlegirl

@whumptober

AO3 link here

[whumpsday]

K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #4

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, starvation, electrocution, torture, captivity, multiple whumpers, sadistic whumper

@whumptober Day 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.” / Cattle Prod / Shock / “You in there?”

-

The hunters laughed as Kane lunged forward again, pulling his chain taut. It wasn’t even silver this time, the steel more than enough to hold him in his starved state, but it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the blood. Right there, glistening and red and rich and delicious and everything he’s ever wanted, dripping decadently from the hunter’s finger, forming a lovely red trail down his hand. Kane needed it more than anything. He couldn’t even find it in him to be afraid, in that moment, every ounce of his mind devoted solely to his desperate need for food.

He whined, eyes wild, trying to scramble forward as best he could, broken nails scrabbling against concrete floor. It was no use. The chain pulled at his ankle, stopping him from getting close. From sinking his fangs into that hand, into its owner’s neck, from drinking and drinking until he’s finally had his fill–

“You in there, parasite?” One of the other hunters poked him in the head with something plastic, but Kane couldn’t focus on that right now.

Fangs bared, he pulled and pulled, reaching his arms out desperately toward the bleeding hunter. His whines were louder now, and he managed to express a coherent thought: “Please, I need it! I’m so hungry!”

Another round of laughter.

“Oh, I dunno, I think you’re perfect just the way you are. Let’s see if we can get you under control another way.”

The plastic thing came back, but turned around this time, poking him in the chest with the other end– not plastic. Metal. He yelped at the burn, flinching back. But this was different from silver, not the same kind of burn.

As his eyes focused, Kane realized it wasn’t a burn at all, but a shock. They’d poked him with a cattle prod.

“I– I’m s-sorry, sir–”

The bleeding hunter squeezed his finger, another drop of blood oozing from the small cut. The last of the coherent thought vanished as the intoxicating smell intensified, and he leapt once more, his chain pulling tight and forcing him back to the ground.

He screamed as the other hunter stuck the prod into the back of his neck and held it there, not letting up.

“Not sorry enough. Don’t worry, we’ll teach you.”

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 4: "I see the danger, it's written there in your eyes" + "You in there?"

Read on Ao3

- Wind & Warriors

- Summary: Wind is forced to fight a malice-possessed Warriors

CW for possession, blood and injury, and mild body horror

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

Wind has seen Warriors in many different states. He has seen him pale and haggard from stress and exhaustion, ashen and white-faced from deep wounds. He has seen his eyes crinkle with laughter and his expression fall as he cries. He has seen him angry and joyful, heartbroken and terrified.

But never has he seen him like this.

The knight stands before him, wavering unsteadily on his feet. One half of his face is pale – too pale – and his eye shines abnormally bright from within it. But the other half is coated in a mass of sticky-looking purple-black goo. It clings to him like a mask, burrowing beneath his eye socket. The usual Hylian blue of his eye has turned to black and his pupil is a golden, cat-like slit rimmed in crimson.

The purple stuff travels down his body from there. It trails along the curve of his neck, spreading around his chest, creeping across his abdomen, traveling down to wind about his left leg. It gurgles as he takes a stumbling step forward.

“What’s the matter, sailor?” He grins, cracked lips pulling back to reveal crimson-tinged teeth. “Do you not like this new version of me?”

Wind takes a step back. His sword feels heavy in his hand.

“You-you’re not you, Warriors.”

Even saying it makes his throat feel tight. But he has to. He has to speak the truth.

When the Captain had gone missing last week, he had feared the worst. They all had. And when Wolfie had tracked his scent to Hyrule Castle, the mood had only dipped further.

(“No one goes in this place, anymore,” Wild had said, gazing at the castle with something akin to bitterness. “Not unless they don’t want to come out. There’s malice hidden in the walls. Zelda and I haven’t gotten around to cleaning it up yet.”)

But even that hadn’t completely dashed Wind’s hopes. Warriors was tough – is tough – and he had thought…well, he had thought he would find him when he had walked into the castle. Injured maybe, and in need of help, but not like this. Not unrecognizable, a monster in the form of his brother.

That is who he must face, however. And now with the rest of the heroes locked outside, he is left to face him alone.

“You’ve gotta fight it,” he pleads as Warriors comes steadily closer. “I know you can do it! You’ve just gotta try!”

“Try?” Warriors laughs and the sound seems to echo off of the stone walls. “There is nothing to try. This is what I am now, and I am better for it.”

He raises his sword. His breathing is haggard, every inhale sharp. Wind can’t say he’s afraid of him…not truly, not when he knows there is still a part of him, hidden deep within that is the Warriors he knows and loves. But when the goo begins traveling along the floor toward him, he can’t help the way his heart leaps into his throat.

“I was a servant of the goddess for so long,” Warriors continues, his voice hoarse and crackling. “I thought she gave me purpose, made me strong. But now I see that that was all a lie.”

Wind swallows. He can feel the tension in the air, building up for the knight’s next words.

“Why would I serve her, when I could have the ability to resurrect one infinitely more powerful?

“Ganondorf.”

He had known it was coming, but the name hits him like a massive wave anyway. Wind takes a step forward now, anger and fear coursing through him.

“He’s the bad guy and you know it!” He cries. “I know you do!”

Warriors only chuckles, the sound grating and sinister. “You’re foolish, just as I was. But you’ll see soon enough.” He grins, eyes glinting. “Or you’ll die.”

“Sailor!” Twilight calls from behind him. His words mingle with the curses and sounds of frustration of the other heroes. Their voices are muffled by the thick walls that stand between them and Wind, but he can hear them well enough. “What’s going on in there? Are you okay?”

Wind drags in a breath. His palms are sweaty, his hands trembling.

“Wars is…he-he’s covered in purple gooey stuff.”

“He’s what?!” It’s Wild now, panic sharp in his tone. “Sailor, is he acting weird?”

“Yeah.” His voice trembles and he clears his throat. “He…I-I think he’s possessed.”

“Possessed?” He can hear Legend groan. “That’s just our luck.”

“I’m going to find another way in,” Time says, voice brittle as ice. “You all remain here and aid the sailor any way you can.”

“There is no other—” Wild cuts off with an audible sigh. Wind guesses the old man went off before he could finish.

“He’s still fighting,” Wind says, even as he steps back again, trying vainly to keep some distance between him and the slowly advancing captain. “There’s gotta be a way we can help him.”

“There is,” Wild replies. “Listen, Wind, he’s trapped in malice. So, you’ve got to shoot the…”

A piercing scream drowns out his next words. Wind startles, grip on his sword tightening in preparation. But Warriors has stopped short and the malice with him. 

He is curled in on himself now, hunched figure looking so much weaker and more broken than seconds before. He presses a hand to his face and instantly the goop oozes over his fingertips. The scream trails off into a moan that quickly turns into a croaked word. 

“Wind?”

The sailor inhales sharply at the sound. Hope leaps inside his chest.

“It’s me, captain! I’m here! We-we’re all here! We’re gonna save you!”

Warriors falls to his knees. Wind can’t help but take a step towards him. But then the captain lifts his head and there is such anguish in his expression that it breaks his heart. He comes to a halt, throat dangerously tight.

“Wind….” The word is softer this time, more breathed than spoken. “I-I can’t…”

“You can!” Wind takes another step, ignoring the warning signals blaring in his brain. This is his brother and he’s not about to abandon him now. “I believe in you, Wars! You can fight this!”

The edges of Warriors’ mouth lift just slightly. A tear rolls down his cheek.

“Sailor,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry…please…run.”

There’s a beat of silence. And then, he begins to cackle.

He rises on shaky legs, stumbling upward like a redead rising to consume its prey. He moves forward, every step slow and jerky. The malice spreads out like a carpet before him.

Warriors grins, all sharp teeth and deathly pale skin. Blood dribbles from his mouth.

“You thought you’d won, didn’t you? You thought you wouldn’t have to fight me. So sorry to disappoint.”

He flicks a finger and suddenly the malice speeds up. It zips toward Wind in a blur of violet and black and bits of crimson. His heart jumps into his throat and he leaps sideways. Not a moment too soon either. The malice collides with the wall behind him with a sickening splat.

Wind cringes.

Is that how it had attacked Warriors? He wonders. But there isn’t time to imagine how such a horrifying fate had befallen his brother. Because Warriors whirls with startling speed and strikes again.

This time Wind is better prepared. He drops into a somersault. The malice rushes past his ear, so close he’s almost sure it’s going to hit the tip. But then he’s up again, just behind Warriors. Taking a deep breath he raises his sword and brings it down on the mass of malice that trails in the captain’s wake.

The hit does nothing.

The malice retracts, then with an unholy screech reaches for him. Wind’s eyes go wide.

He dodges, shoulder colliding painfully with the wall. Warriors turns to him with a leering smirk. Wind is unpleasantly reminded of the little imps in the Forbidden Fortress — the ones that poked at his heels and chased him up the walls. The thought makes him sick.

Warriors isn’t supposed to look like that.

“You’re fast,” the captain says. “And skilled. No wonder I loved you. At first I wasn’t sure how I could’ve cared about  some kid. But now I know. You were useful.”

Wind swallows, hard. The words hurt him more than he’d like to admit.

It’s not true. He doesn’t mean it, he tells himself, firmly. It’s the malice talking, not him.

Warriors leaps toward him again, this time bringing his sword slicing through the air. Wind is forced to hurl himself sideways to escape being pinned against the wall.

But he doesn’t have time to even catch his breath. Malice surges toward him across the ground, grasping his feet even as he turns. He struggles, fear running hot in his veins. Its grip is strong, however, and it holds him firmly in place.

Warriors stalks up to him. Wind forces himself to meet his crazed stare.

“You can’t run anymore,” he sneers. “Fight me or die. There are no other options.” He steps closer, hand outstretched inches from Wind’s face. Malice encases his fingertips. “Unless, of course, you would rather join me.”

He tilts his head and the way the light falls upon the still-human side of his face almost makes him look like himself again. Almost. 

“You could help me resurrect him. You could help me bring an end to this world.”

Tears run in rivulets down his cheeks. He tastes salt. But Wind curls his hand into fist. 

“I won’t help you. Not like that. I’m gonna set you free!”

Warriors straightens, sword clasped tightly in his fist. The eye of malice narrows, as though seeking prey. Its contrasting array of colors seem to gleam.

With it so close, Wind finds it hard to take his gaze off of it. His hands almost itch to lose an arrow into it like he has done in so many dungeons.

Legend’s voice echoes in his mind, colored with peals of laughter.

“Always shoot the eye.”

Then, comes Wild, tone panicked but determined, muffled by the thick walls, cut off by Warriors’ cries of agony.

“You’ve gotta shoot the…”

Wind inhales sharply.

That’s it! 

There is still hope, after all.

The malice continues to climb sluggishly up his body, weighing him down. The darkness that emanated off of it is suffocating. Lifting a shaking hand, Warriors aims the tip of his sword at his heart.

“Then you’ll die.”

Wind takes a deep breath. Swiping at his tears, he steels himself. Hand heavy, heart in his throat, he lifts his sword.

Please let this work, he prays.

And then, he plunges the weapon into Warriors’ face.

There is a nauseating squish, a skull-splitting scream, and Warriors crumples. The malice around Wind’s legs dissipates in a cloud of dark violet specks. The goop on and around Warriors follows suit seconds later.

Instantly, Wind is on his knees, sword sheathed, hands on Warriors’ shoulder. He turns the knight over, choking out his name as the windows and doorways of the Sanctum slide open and the sunlight streams in. It illuminates the captain’s — now completely human — face in blessed light.

Distantly, Wind registers that the others are racing into the room, calling his and Warriors’ names, punctuated with panicked questions. But he can’t bring himself to reply.

Warriors’ eyes are closed now, his freed body still.

…Too still. Wind watches his chest, waiting for it to rise.

“Come on.” Tears spring to his eyes anew and roll down his cheeks, tracing the paths of their predecessors. He doesn’t bother to wipe them away. “Come on, Warriors, wake up.”

Please don’t be dead.

Time is dropping down beside him now, already uncorking a bottle. A fairy flies free and heads straight for the fallen captain. Wind watches as she begins to whirl around him.

Her dance seems to last forever. But then, at last, she zips away and disappears.

Wind leans forward, holding his breath.

Abruptly, Warriors jolts upward coughing and gasping. He looks around the room, wildly, eyes wide and panicked. But they are blue as the Great Sea and full of the life he knows so well and Wind can feel nothing in that moment except joy and relief.

“Warriors!” He wraps his arms tightly around the captain, half to support him and half to cling to him. To remind himself he is still here, alive. That he is safe.

Warriors stiffens and pulls back, eyes roaming his body.

“Sailor,” he croaks in the voice that is so unmistakably his. “Are-are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

With a shaky smile, Wind drags him back into the hug. “I’m fine! Promise! Don’t worry about me.”

Warriors makes a sound like a half-sob. He shudders.

“I-I’m so, so sorry.”

The sailor shakes his head, viciously. “Don’t be! It wasn’t you.”

“But I should have…I could have fought…”

Time leans forward, setting a hand on both of their shoulders. Emboldened by his presence Wind sucks in a breath, nearly choking on tears.

“You did fight, captain! I saw you. You-you fought all you could!”

“There is nothing else you could’ve done,” Time adds, quietly. “The champion hasn’t known anyone to resist the pull of such evil, save for Flora. And it seems you continued to battle it for quite some time.”

Warriors doesn’t reply. He slumps, defeated, and Wind holds him tighter.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. I-I was really worried.” He raises his head to look Warriors in the face. “You…are okay now, right?”

There are tears running down Warriors’ pale cheeks, blood trickling from his mouth and various wounds Wind can see now that the malice is gone. But he cracks a broken smile.

“Yeah, I’m alright now, sailor. All thanks to you.”

[serickswrites]

"Written There In Your Eyes"

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, electrocution, rescue

Whumpee's chest was heaving. They hadn't been able to get a good breath in for hours. Between the tightness of the metal chains around their chest and the repeated shocks with a cattle prod, Whumpee's bones buzzed, their chest ached, and they could think clearly.

And their heart was racing out of control.

"Why won't you just give me what I want?" Whumper had hissed minutes--hours?--ago.

Whumpee put everything into the smirk they threw Whumper. "Where's....the....fun...in...that?" It had taken all of their breath to get that sentence out, but the look on Whumper's face had been worth it.

They just needed to hold on a bit longer. They knew Caretaker was coming. The team was coming. They just had to hold on until the cavalry arrived. Just a bit longer.

Fortunately Whumper had left in a huff after Whumpee's comment. No doubt they were trying to calm themself down so they didn't kill Whumpee. They needed the information that Whumpee had.

Or so Whumper thought. Whumpee did not have the information. But they had lied, hoping it would lure Whumper out into the open and the team could catch them.

And Whumpee's plan had worked. Sort of. They just hadn't accounted for Whumper's determination to eliminate a threat with minimal effort. And taking Whumpee when they had been home alone sleeping had been their perfect opportunity.

Whumpee just focused on their breathing. Focused on trying to control their heartbeat. Focused on anything to keep themself awake. And alive.

Distant sounds of banging and a struggle came, but Whumpee couldn't focus enough to care. Whatever it was, threat or not, it would make itself known to them eventually.

A banging came on the door to their cell. If Whumpee had the energy they would have jumped. As it was, they barely lifted their head. "Whumpee? Whumpee? Are you in there?" Caretaker's voice was strained with worry.

Whumpee took as deep a breath as possible. "Here," they called weakly, hoping it was loud enough for Caretaker to hear.

"Whumpee?" Caretaker called again.

Whumpee closed their eyes, drawing on their remaining strength. Caretaker needed to hear them. "HERE!"

Caretaker threw the door open just as Whumpee slumped forward. "WHUMPEE!" Caretaker rushed forward, the team on their heels. "Talk to me, Whumpee. Talk to me."

"Y're......'ere," Whumpee whispered. They closed their eyes and swallowed. They held on. Caretaker was here. Caretaker found them.

"I'm here. I'm here. Hold on, Whumpee. Hold on a bit longer. Help is on the way." Caretaker nodded to Teammate One. "Get them out of these chains. I don't like their respiration rate."

Teammate One nodded and went to work while Teammate Two searched the room. "Boss," they said carefully as they found the modified cattle prod. "I think I know what's wrong with Whumpee."

That's good, Whumpee thought as the darkness that had been threatening to consume them inched ever closer. I can't breathe enough to speak.

"Got 'em," Teammate One said triumphantly as they unlocked the padlock on the coils of chains.

Whumpee sagged forward in the chains as their breath went out in a sigh. Finally.

Caretaker could hear Whumpee's rasping breaths becoming more and more irregular. As they looked at the cattle prod in Teammate Two's hand, their heart beat quickened. "We have no time to lose!" They scooped up the limp and pliable Whumpee into their arms and started to run. They wouldn't lose Whumpee now. Not after everything.

"Hold on, Whumpee, hold on," they murmured as they ran. "Hold on."

[sheppardsmckay]

Whumptober2023

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

[oxideblack]