#it is a bit shorter than I hoped but

[hopefuloverfury]

may i request something with Elliott? something fluffy, perhaps? I've had a bit of a bad week and need a pick me up, and your hc list for how the bachelors fell in love was so sweet :') I just had his post-marriage heart event and can't stop thinking about it, so maybe something like that? maybe the moment when he comes home?

I’m sorry you had a bad week, anon. I hope this helps cheer you up a bit, even if it’s a little late. And I hope this week is better! I still haven’t married any of the candidates in my (singular) save file because I love all of them and can’t choose. Ugh. Anyway! Elliott is husband material and I love him.

898 words. Kinda short :( GN!Farmer, pure fluff. A planet made out of squishmallows. A field full of grazing sheep. Pillow stuffing fluttering around you after a pillow fight gets too crazy. So. Much. Fluff. Not beta'd or proofread, sorry about that. I hope you enjoy it anyway <3

Elliott closes the front door behind him, nodding in satisfaction when the lock clicks into place quietly. The house is silent, and Elliott carefully toes off his stuffy dress shoes and abandons his suitcase by the door. He’ll unpack in a bit, but right now he has more pressing matters to attend to.

Slipping on his house shoes, he climbs up to the second floor of the farmhouse. Miso meows from the top of the stairs, greeting him with an eager flick of the tail. Elliott smiles fondly at the gray tabby and scratches under his chin for a moment, before straightening up and making his way to the bedroom. 

Impatience nips at his heels as he pushes the door open, and his breath leaves him all at once at the sight before him.

Yellow morning sunlight streams through the windows, bouncing off the white flannel sheets, and the whole room glows, edges blurred like an old polaroid. At the center of the world is the Farmer, curled up in the middle of the bed with their arms held tight around a pillow. 

His throat closes.

His pillow.

He presses the back of his hand, still chilled from the frigid morning air, to his burning face. The things they do to him, truly.

Collecting the scattered pieces of himself from the floor, Elliott shuffles across the room and kneels beside their bed. Affection ripples in his chest like the surface of a pond disturbed by a fallen leaf as he watches them sleep for a few moments, but then it gets to be too much and he’s moving.

He presses a kiss to the top of their head, and squeezes their shoulder in tandem. They grumble in their sleep, and he smiles into their hair. He leans away as they shift a bit, groggily untucking their face from where they’d smushed it into his pillow, and their eyes flutter open.

“Good morning, gorgeous. I’m back,” Elliott whispers, brushing the pad of his thumb over their cheek as they look up at him. They blink a few times, the sun glaring in their eyes, and he smiles softly, endeared by their initial sleepy confusion. 

He clocks the exact moment the realization dawns on them, and suddenly his arms are very, very full.

He chuckles, hugging them tightly as they bury their face into his neck.

“Elliott,” they whisper, tangling their fingers into his hair, and he sighs happily. Their weight against his chest is a welcome pressure. 

“My love.” He rubs his palms up and down their back, refamiliarising himself with the contours of their body. “Ah, I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Their arms tighten around his shoulders, and he presses a kiss to the side of their head. They pull away, eyes sparkling in the sun. They’re still soft with sleep, a little less alert than usual, and he tightens his grip on their waist. “How was your tour?”

He hums, running the tip of his finger over a loose stitch on the hem of their shirt. “Nothing I didn't already say in my letters. But one drop of the big city and I’m quenched. I much prefer being back here with you.”

He pecks their forehead.

“I really did miss you,” they whisper, cupping his jaw with a calloused palm when he’s settled back. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Elliott shakes his head with a smile. “You know well enough it was the same for me.”

“I do, but—”

The shrill call of the rooster echoes outside, cutting the Farmer off sharply. They frown, a displeased wrinkle appearing between their eyebrows.

Elliott smiles and smooths out the lines on their forehead with gentle fingers. “Don’t be so disappointed, my love. I’m home, but we’ve both got chores to catch up on, hm?”

He makes to pull away, but their arms keep him firmly locked in place. 

“Stay?” They brush a loose strand of hair behind his ear, and tingles shoot down his spine. He nearly shivers. “I already took care of everything.” 

“Of course you did.” He chuckles, petting their side. “But Darling, I must insist. I have to at least feed Miso.”

“All of his bowls are full. I filled them last night, and we can go to the saloon for a late breakfast if you come back to bed with me. When did you get up this morning? Wasn’t your train at four?” Their lips pillow out in a pout, tempting him. Elliott swallows hard. “Please? I almost forgot what sleeping next to you feels like.”

“Well now you’re just playing dirty,” Elliott mutters, reaching to pinch their hips softly. They jerk against him, and the tip of their nose brushes his own. 

“Is it working?” They ask, grinning.

God help him, he is a weak, weak man.

“You know it is, just—let me change.” The farmer hums, smiling like the cat that got the cream as they bring their hands down to grip at the lapels of his suit jacket. He stares at their lips.

“Hurry up then. I wanna cuddle.”

"Yeah." He nods stiffly. “Anything you want.”

[cerise-on-top]

I just read "141 with an S/O who likes muscular people"

BUT! what if they have an S/O who loves to bake or loves cooking.

What if unit 141 follows a diet to keep those muscles and shape? Would they have the heart to tell their lover "no" when they offer some of the food/sweets they just make?

I think all of them would love your food a little too much to simply go on a diet, but some of them are more willing to say no than others! Besides, all of them would sometimes go to the gym together on their days off, just to catch up with each other and burn some unused energy! They're still some rowdy boys, even if Price doesn't always have the time to go to the gym with them!

TF141 with an S/O who Likes to Cook for Them

Price: While he may eat quite a lot, he doesn’t really eat very many desserts, so it’s not often he’d say yes to one of your delicious marble cakes. However, he can appreciate you cooking for him as much as you do. It’s lovely. He comes home from deployment, tired and hungry beyond compare, and there you usually are, making him the most delicious food imaginable, from simple spaghetti to roast pork. Whatever it is you make, he’ll eat it with a smile on his face. Though, from the get go, he’ll tell you that he doesn’t eat too many sweets. He’ll indulge in the occasional cookie, maybe eat a single, thin slice of pie, but that’s it. He’ll tell you no in a nice, polite and gentle way. Besides, considering how much he eats normally, it isn’t really surprising that there’s no space left for your delectable pain au chocolats. He will try something every once in a while, but he’ll usually say no, so staying fit isn’t really a concern for him in the first place. You’d need to continuously insist for him to eat your apple strudel for him to budge, but even then it’s just a tiny piece. He doesn���t particularly have a sweet tooth.

Gaz: He absolutely has a sweet tooth. There are phases where he will consume more croissants than what is probably healthy, and then there are phases where he won’t eat anything sweet at all, won’t even look at it. It all depends on how sick and tired he’s gotten of something like your macarons. Trust me, he will still eat your food like it’s his last meal, but will turn down any and all sweets you make. Gaz does go to the gym fairly often, to keep in shape and maybe grow just a bit stronger as well, despite being rather strong already. You suspect that he sometimes stops eating your sweets because he may have gained weight, but he never confirms or denies this, he just tells you that he needs a break. But, as mentioned already, he can never get enough of your food, even if he’s just eating normal portions for someone his size. That’s why there’s always room for dessert in his stomach. But sometimes he’s content with just eating a banana or a tangerine. It doesn’t always have to be processed sugar, even if he adores your mochis as well. He can cook very well himself, but if you’re always eager to cook for him, then he will simply help you out.

Ghost: Eats a lot, eats sweets every once in a while, it’s as simple as that. He loves you, so he will even eat more sweets just for you, even if he won’t usually eat them as often. Your food is the best out there, and so your cupcakes have a special place in his heart as well. While he won’t dig in whenever you make a batch, you can see him steal one or two from the tray when he thinks you aren’t looking and, for humor reasons, blames it on Soap, regardless of whether he was even here or not. While he may not be a fast eater, he likes to savor every bite of what you made, he eats a mountain of food. When he realizes he has put on some weight, he will call up Soap and Gaz and train with them until the weight is gone. While he has a hard time saying no to you, he tries his best to not eat too much French toast when you make it. He needs to stay fit as a lieutenant, and thus he will softly refuse, or simply eat way smaller portions of sweets than he normally would. But you’d need to pry your home-made ravioli from his cold, dead hands since he loves those so much.

Soap: As mentioned in another ask, this man can eat literal trash and he won’t put on weight, he was blessed genetically in that regard. Likes sweets a lot, so he has no shame about stealing some of your braided easter bread while it’s still cooling down. He can usually be found chewing something, when it’s not your food, it’s some gum he bought. He likes the feeling of having something in his mouth he can bite down on. While he doesn’t eat as much food as, say, Price, he actually prefers to steal the food from your plate, he eats about as many sweets as Gaz does during the prime of his sweet phases. Not per day, he doesn’t love apple cake and the likes that much, but it’s quite a lot. Fortunately, he does train all of it off by going to the gym whenever he can. He does take Gaz along with him during those times, Ghost sometimes as well. While he does goof around with Gaz when he can, he does take his training fairly seriously more often than not. You can make him just about any food and he’ll enjoy it, but he does prefer savory foods, such as roasted chicken. Don’t make his food too spicy, though. He’s very white and can’t eat it otherwise.

[achlyisdumb]

Hollow Escape AU

Chapter 1: Part 5/6

First // Previous // Next

[luimagines]

Can I request the chains or readers reaction to a massage please??

Sure thing! I had a debate on whether this should be scenario of headcanon, but I figured since I've mentioned this in headcanons before, I'll write it out. :D

Masterlist

Part 1 will include Twilight, Wild and Four.

Content under the cut!

Twilight

You watched as Twilight hauled another heavy pack onto Epona. You saw him wince and rub his neck, trying to get to his upper back.

Your heart ached for him at the sight. He looked pained but kept it silent.

You stood up and walked over to him with a frown on your face. You wanted to count your lucky stars that it was morning so he wasn't wearing his armor or layers. Then again- that didn't really help him now, did it? The day has literally just started and he's already in pain? Unacceptable.

You put a hand on his shoulder. He jumps at the contact, not having heard you coming. He relaxes when he sees you and smiles, putting his hand down as if everything is fine. "Good morning. Did you need something?"

"Are you ok?" You say quietly, not wanting to attract any attention to yourselves. "That looked like it hurt."

Twilight pauses and flushes slightly. "N-no, that's not it. I think I pulled something in my sleep. Nothing too bad, I just-"

"Do you want help with that?" You offer. Because really, it would be hard for him to move if he's got a muscle locked up. If you were attacked later today it would be worse for him. You can't even begin to imagine what would happen to him in that state if he was Wolfie. You don't want to think about it.

Twilight flushes a dark color. "...H..How?"

You also begin to blush but move behind him. "Don't make it weird. How else am I going to do it?"

You press your thumbs into his back and begin to knead behind his shoulder blade. You can actually feel the knot behind it. Poor Twilight. It must really hurt.

Twilight lets out a choked sound as the other half of him tenses up. You run your hand over the spot again and he strangles a moan to stay where it belongs.

You giggle and keep at it. Twilight has to fight to keep the sounds at bay. You poke his ear from behind with your free hand. "Feel good?"

"Yes, thank you." He says quietly, horrified but what he just did. "It feels a lot better."

"Good."

Wild

"Oh for the love of-!" Wild nearly curses, dropping the arrow he had knocked onto his bow.

Your attention snaps to him in an instant. "Everything good?"

Wild doesn't hear you. He doesn't even bother to pick up his arrow. His attention is solely on his forearm. Wild presses harshly onto a spot and makes a pained face.

You stand up and make your way over to him. "Pull something?"

"I don't know how." He hisses, running his thumb along the length of his forearm. He struggles for a moment but takes off his layers in frustration, throwing them to the ground non to gently.

"Easy." You take his hand and pull his arm towards you. "No need to get upset. Does it hurt that bad?"

You press your fingers along the side of the spot he was paying attention to, ease the area softly.

Wild winces but lets you do as you please. His other hand lands on his hip. "I don't know how I did it. I just woke up and it hurt to move."

"I don't remember you doing anything yesterday that would have caused this." You say softly, trying to diffuse his energy.

Wild flinches when you pass over the sore spot once more. You begin to move up his arm, going as high as his shirt will allow. Wild bites at his lip, but eventually his other hand drops as well. He takes a breath and his shoulders sag. "...Its been a few days actually."

You pause and give him a deadpanned look.

He flinch, but not from your touch. "I know, I know. I thought it would go away but it only got worse. Now I can't even shoot my bow straight."

"What on earth am I going to do with you?" You shake your head and click your tongue. You don't say anything else, opting to keep massaging his forearm, eventually moving to his bicep to help ease the tension in his arm.

Wild also falls silent, letting you work for a while. He doesn't fight you, he doesn't try to stop you. Neither of you know why you simply started doing this, but you don't feel like stopping and it's helping Wild more than he wants to admit.

Eventually you stop, moving his sleeve down and patting his shoulder. You're done. "Feel better?"

"Yes." He whispers, bending to pick up the gauntlets he had thrown down earlier. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

Four

Four rolled his shoulders for what to be the nth time this hour. He winces and pulled his arms back. Sure it puffed up his chest but you were certain that wasn't his actual intention.

You walked over to him and poked his arm, sitting next to him. "You've done that like ten times already. Everything alright?"

Four winces and shakes his head. "I think I pulled something earlier today. But for the life of me, I can't figure out what I did. It just hurts."

"Do you want help with that?" You offer, sitting beside him. "Does this happen often?"

Four shakes his head again. "I'm pretty good at keeping up with my stretches and forge work doesn't leave much to be desired when I have to switch over to the whole hero thing- which leaves me only more confused."

"Maybe you slept wrong?"

"Maybe." Four rolls his shoulders again. "Man, this sucks. What on earth did I do?"

"Let me help." You poke his arm again. "Turn around."

"I don't see how you're going to help me. There's only so much you can do." Four does as you say anything, not thinking twice about it.

You put your hands on his shoulders and begin to knead. Gently at first. Four hisses and you can see him flinch from behind but he doesn't voice any complaints. "If I'm too rough, you have to tell me ok?

"I doubt you would even be able to- mmm!!" Four hisses again and you can feel him arch with the way you press your thumb behind his shoulder blade. "There. You found it. Right there."

You chuckle and focus on putting the nerves and muscles back into place. "You were saying?"

Four tilts his head. "What was I say? I already forgot."

"Then don't expect me to remind you." You grin, happy that he's finding some relief after all this time.

"That is.. perfectly fine by me." Four sighs, relaxing under your touch. "You're pretty good at this."

"Thank you." You keep at it a little while longer before you pull back and pat his shoulder. "Did that help?"

"Tremendously."

"Great!"

Part 2

[raineandsky]

#119

tw: wasps

The hero turns their attention to the supervillain on the end of row with drooped shoulders and tired eyes. “And you,” they snap shortly, “what’s your superpower?”

The villain sitting next to the supervillain snorts into her hand. The supervillain frowns playfully. “Do I need one?”

“I’m not a big pattern finder, but every one of you felons has had one so far.” The hero taps their pen near the bottom of their paper, where the supervillain knows their name inevitably sits in perfect black print. “What is it?”

“Does people management count as a power?”

If the hero’s expression turned any more sour it’d be unbearable. “Your real superpower, [Supervillain].”

The way the supervillain’s lips curl upward is an answer in itself. 

“You’re all here for a long time,” the hero says with a scowl, raising their voice for the other villains further down the line before turning their hard gaze back to the supervillain. “All the time in the world for you to tell me.”

-

A long time, in a hero’s book, is probably several lifetimes. For a villain, it’s a few well-spent hours. 

The villains blast a hole in the wall and escape into the night with whoops of laughter. The supervillain helps everyone clamber over the rubble, leader that they are, and is carefully guiding the last of their associates through the debris when a voice rings out from behind them to ruin the fun.

“Stop!” the hero calls, as if the villains have ever been good at listening.

Ah—that little twerp from earlier, with the tired face and the scrawling list of superpowers. The supervillain pushes the villain over the last of the rubble before turning to face their new nemesis.

They hold their hands up in surrender, their head cocked to the side. “Or what?”

The hero pulls something the supervillain can’t see from their belt as they take their stride pulls them closer. “Or I might get you in prison long enough to find out what your deal is.”

They step into a swing like it’s a waltz. The supervillain sweeps out of reach like their partner in the tune.

Just enough time to make sure everyone gets away. That’s all they need.

The hero moves in for another strike and the supervillain just about ducks their arm. The air slices over their head, and they finally realise that the hero’s weapon of choice is a blade.

“I don’t have a deal,” the supervillain says easily. “You must know that by now.”

The hero darts back from a swinging punch. “You do have a deal, because you have a superpower and you won’t tell me what it is!”

The supervillain lurches for the hero, like the melee will take their mind off the dangerous ideas they’re barrelling towards. The hero pulls to the side, just, their knife already poised to retaliate. The supervillain barely has the time to avoid them, and the consequence finds itself in a burning crimson gash across their arm.

“I have nothing to tell you,” they snap, careful to keep the distance between themself and the blade twisting in the hero’s hand. “Is it so hard to believe some of us are normal?”

“Considering all you scumbags do nothing but brag about how powerful you are—” Another swipe, another near miss from the supervillain’s face “—yes.”

The supervillain falls forward into another swing, but the hero hops aside like it’s nothing. The supervillain’s spent the last three hours escaping. The hero’s probably spent them sleeping. As much as they’d never admit it, the supervillain’s at a disadvantage.

They glance over their shoulder to the hole in the wall. One of the villains is lingering outside, watching with wide eyes and restless feet. The supervillain tries to make some gesture at him to leave, and he seems to take the hint as he turns on his heel and runs.

More time to make up for. As if they need to waste any more of it.

Looking away was a mistake realised too late. The hero leaps for them in that half second, and their blade scrapes a deep, jagged gash into the supervillain’s chest.

The sudden flash of pain makes the supervillain stagger. Another hero appears on the corner, and the supervillain knows this is over if they don’t do something now.

The supervillain swings their hands in a roundabout motion, their expression stony with concentration. The hero stops the other hero as she gets close, their eyes trained on the supervillain curiously.

The supervillain’s hands clap together. The hero flinches. Nothing happens.

Then, from the hole in the wall, comes a single wasp.

The hero’s gaze flits between the supervillain and the random insect hovering next to them. The supervillain’s finger flicks out to point to them, and the wasp starts flitting towards them. 

The other hero steps back like this is horrifying. The hero raises an eyebrow. “Is… Is this your superpower?”

“I control wasps,” the supervillain says tightly, like the words are refusing to come out. They kind of are, because they never wanted to admit this. “But only one at a time.”

The wasp gets too close. The hero swats at it and its beeline is disrupted, thrown downward slightly by the force. It goes too low, and the hero shoves a foot out to crush it beneath their shoe.

There’s silence for a moment. The hero looks down at their own foot like they’re surprised by their own actions. “How the hell do you get to the top of villainy with a power like that?”

The supervillain grins, like that’ll hide the horrifying pain of having to reveal their power at all. “People management.”

And the confusion of their superpower, it seems, is their saving grace—the supervillain disappears into the evening with two heroes staring down at the splat of the insect on the ground in front of them.

[pushing500]

Okay, I feel like such an idiot because I accidentally deleted the ask haven't cried about it yet though so that's a win, but someone asked me if I thought Mechi and Kwahu's long hair, coffee-fueled all-nighters, and work surrounding complex machinery would ever result in disasters or terrible, embarrassing haircuts.

The answer is yes! I think these two dumbasses get their hair caught in everything all the time, but they're too proud to cut it, so they just take the machines apart and then painstakingly put them back together again every time there's an accident.

For your viewing pleasure, other places where Mechi's utter disregard for shop safety and OSHA regulations is discussed: here and here

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [SCATTERED 'CROSS] ❞

request by sweet darling @wisteria-cherry pairing: sirius x reader. summary: families are a tricky thing, sirius knows well. he comforts you about it whenever you need him too. content warnings: fluff, family issues, low self esteem. modern!au. word count: 900+

He hates seeing you like this, distraught, disappointed. Your eyes red from crying even though you've stopped doing so before he could pick you up at your place.

You both had a date and as soon as you called him to cancel he knew something was wrong, your voice cracking up, the soft sniffling you tried hard to conceal and the fact you never canceled plans with him before. His reaction was to tell you he was coming over, immediately leaving on his motorcycle in his pajama pants and t-shirt, worry making him too uneasy to even care about changing.

Sirius tried talking to you when he got to your place, but you refused to explain, telling him you wanted to go somewhere else. You felt so tired, so suffocated, it seemed the pressure you put on yourself was weighting on your lungs and ready to collapse. Who was he to deny a ride anywhere to his girl?

After all, he loved getting the little pink helmet he bought specifically for you and getting you to put it on and the feeling of your arms around his waist as you intertwined your hands on his belly, holding him close as he promised every single time that as long as you kept hugging him like that, he would never drop you.

He led you to the kitchen, sat you around the big table, kissed your forehead and let you breath as he went around looking for snacks you could get a tiny bit of serotonin from.

"A'ight princess, cookies, iced tea and a very, very concerned boyfriend are ready." The food is set in front of you and he sits on the chair by your side, scooching it closer and positioning himself in front of you, your hands are softly taken by his warm ones and you can feel his genuine concern.

You almost feel silly for what you're gonna tell him, he's so kind and loving and you knew he would never make you feel bad about your feelings. That worry was an automatic defense mechanism for you though, trying to make your sadness less of a big deal than it truly was.

"Just... You know, my parents." You let out a deep sigh, he knew what it was already. It wasn't news for him how you felt pressured to always strive to the best as a way to get their approval, never feeling enough, always feeling like a disappointment. Families were a touchy topic for Sirius, the first time you brought the subject up he told you how they were the wrong ones and how you shouldn't care what they thought of you.

He learned soon enough that was not what you needed from him, you cared and you wouldn't stop caring and wishing to be enough. It had been so long since he cared about what his mum thought of him he almost forgot what it was like. He saw the way you were tearing up again, a few tears falling against your own wishes.

The black haired man simply used both his thumbs to clean it up, lifting your chin so you would look straight into his eyes. "Hey, hey. Your parents love you, and they raised you, and they want what's best for you, right?" You nod into his hand, barely, "so you're more than enough for them. They might show it differently, they might see potential you don't, but they see you and won't ever be disappointed in you for trying your very best."

Families are a tricky thing and it wasn't easy for him to navigate through that, his mother was downright abusive, the Potters were loving, caring, but still Sirius sometimes noticed how Fleamont would push James to do more. How Remus felt he had to do more to honor his mother. He could see how that type of pressure could lead someone to feel less. He hated that, you were not even close to less anything. You were a lot, in the best way possible.

He pulls you into his lap, hugging you from the side and laying his head on the crook of your neck, taking advantage of the position to kiss your cheek countless times, trying to show through his affections how easy it was to love you, to feel proud of you. He knew you for so little time compared to your parents and he could die by how proud he always felt, how endlessly in awe you made him by how hard you tried at everything you did.

"The things I see in you, my love, aren't hidden in some sort of secret place. They are easy to see. To feel. I swear it's not me, it's you, and your folks surely see it too, a'ight?"

You nod again, not knowing how to respond such kind words from him, especially when there wasn't an ounce of hesitance while he spoke, he was so sure, it was a fact, not something he made up to comfort you only. How could you argue with that? If you could feel enough for other people, and if other people told you how great you were, how sweet you were... Then your parents saw it too. Surely, yeah?

His words calm you down, at least for now, it would be a long way before you could heal the self doubt you had when it came to your parents, but having him by your side... You knew you could do it.

[starrysnowdrop]

FFXIVWrite 2024 #5: Stamp

Verb (Used with object): to impress with a particular mark or device, as to indicate genuineness, approval, or ownership; to stamp a document with a seal.

Following the events of 5.3; Zenos looks around his newly deceased father Varis’s private quarters in the Imperial Palace and finds an item of particular interest.

After searching through the seemingly endless piles of monotonous tomes, paperwork, and notes strewn across the late Emperor Varis’s desk, Zenos found a small, unassuming key, which he quickly surmised would unlock the drawer of the desk.

He inserted the key and turned it, unlocking the drawer. When he slid the drawer open, there seemed to only be more tedious stacks of papers, all of which were of little concern to him. He tossed each slip of paper off to the side, and he was soon about to abandon his search for anything of import from his father’s private quarters, as nothing had stood out to him whatsoever.

After a few minutes of searching, he lifted a slip of paper from the stack to reveal an envelope, which would not have peaked his interest if not for the particular ink seal that was stamped upon the front of the envelope: it was a round seal, in the Hingan style, with an imprint of a mountain peak shrouded in mist.

“Ah, now what it is?” Zenos asked with a hint of excitement in his voice.

A small smile graced Zenos’s countenance as he ran his fingers across the seal. He had recognized the seal from a particular tome that he had read some time ago, a time before he had experienced his one shining moment of pure joy and ecstasy.

Whatever the envelope enclosed, Zenos would soon find out, but it was sure to be of immense significance to him in some way. Because why would his father have kept an envelope stamped with the official seal of the Aino Clan of Hingashi… her clan’s seal?

Yume’s Blog: @firelightmuse

[avvail-whumps]

‘guns for hire’ — heated #31

previous · masterlist · next

content warnings: conditioned whumpee, injury recovery, more manipulation, dub-con kissing (again it's technically consensual), stockholm syndrome

Leo ended up waking up when it was dark outside. He could tell since the room had darkened inexplicably, and the window still hadn’t been covered by the blinds, displaying the stars twinkling in the sky. He shifted, his eyes weepy and his mind foggy, sinking back into the comfort of the warm covers. 

He let his memories slowly come back to him. Piece by piece, reminding himself that the mercenaries were gone, and that there was no need for him to get hurt anymore. The painkiller had done its job in blocking out any of the numbing pain, leaving him pleasantly at ease with his current condition. Even though his fingers were of no use and he was wrapped in far too many bandages and plasters to count, he was at least getting better. 

That was what mattered. 

Roy came in about fifteen minutes later. 

He’d told him he could use the television, but the irony erupted like a cruel heckle when he realised that wasn’t exactly possible. Not while his fingers were in the state that they were. He instead stared at the black screen with an empty head, not exactly sure what to make of the mind numbing situation anymore. Seeing Roy seemed to make him feel a little better. He couldn’t do anything by himself, but at least the mercenary was there to help him when he needed something as simple as a drink. 

He’d brought a glass of water, another white painkiller, and a juicy looking red apple. It was split into uneven little slices, but Leo eyed it eagerly, unable to stop the little smile on his face. 

“I could hear you snoring away from downstairs,” he mused in a teasing lilt, setting the stuff down on the windowsill with a small smirk on his lips. “Comfortable?” 

Leo nodded his head. He must have been, since his blond hair was still dishelved, sticking up in various places, and small red creases had imprinted on his skin from being stuck to the pillow like glue.

“Good,” the man sighed, motioning towards the painkiller in his hand. “Open your mouth.” 

He did, and didn’t wince away when the little white pill was placed on his tongue. He held it there while Roy picked up the glass, and eased the liquid down his throat to help him swallow it. Leo gulped down a few extra mouthfuls, finding himself easily parched after waking up. He glanced up at the man once he was finished, watching his every move. Roy didn’t seem to care. 

“I didn’t mean to sleep for so long,” Leo perked up, uneasily gazing at the dark sky outside. “I can go back to my room if you want to sleep.” 

The man almost looked amused by his considerate words, a little chuckle escaping his lips. “A lack of sleep doesn’t bother me, lion. Besides, you were sleeping like the dead. I didn’t want to wake you.” 

Against his better judgement, Leo found himself blushing. He wished his fingers weren’t broken, otherwise he could mindlessly fiddle with the edges of the blanket to distract himself. He tried to swallow down those words as anything other than the man being courteous because of his extensive injuries, but he just couldn’t. There were those last little thoughts that were telling him that whatever this was, wasn’t real. That he needed to snap out of it, go back to his father, try and remind himself that Michael said people were looking for him. 

His thoughts were broken when he felt the bed dip beside him, and he met Roy’s eyes. Those concerns seemed to suddenly melt away, like they’d never existed before. As long as he was here, then he didn’t have to worry so much. 

“Where did you go?” The mercenary hummed, tilting his head slightly. “You were lost for a minute, lion.” 

He tensed up, teeth instantly gnawing on the inside of his cheek. He knew better than to keep things from him, or god forbid lie to his face, since he felt like Roy could read him like an open book. His stomach churned at the thought of getting into trouble, and he was fighting a losing battle with his rationality very quickly. He tore his eyes away, begrudingly opening his mouth. 

“I was thinking about…” His tongue suddenly felt very heavy. “...thinking about home. My father.” 

He didn’t want to look at the expression on Roy’s face. If he was angry, then he was just about willing to get down on his knees and grovel, because he couldn’t bear a second longer in that sordid basement by himself, trapped within those horrible plain walls. Leo could feel his intense stare on the side of his face, making his jaw tighten instinctively. 

“You mean the home that your father forced you out of?” He spoke, his voice softer than he’d been expecting. Leo’s eyes flickered wide open, leveling his gaze with his. The words made him react defensively without even realising. 

“He didn’t force me out,” he uttered, his voice on the verge of wobbling. “It wasn’t like that.” 

“It wasn’t?” Roy countered, his brow cocking. “I don’t know, lion. You told me the truth, didn’t you? I don’t really care that he was ‘struggling’ or however you put it. He still shut you out.” 

Leo’s brows furrowed, shaking his head. “No, I…” He scoffed. “His wife left him, he was allowed to be upset. It wasn’t his fault.” 

“And your mother left, too,” the mercenary shrugged, taking one of the smaller apple slices and popping it in his mouth. Leo didn’t watch, his eyes stubbornly pinned to the blanket spread across his lap. The words made his heart sting like it hadn’t done for a while. “Doesn’t really matter whatever the fuck he was going through.”

“He just—” Leo stopped, his eyes burning. “I don’t want to talk about this.” 

“You were thinking it, so you will,” Roy demanded sharply. “Tell me this, lion. You left because you were hurt, didn’t you? You can’t possibly not feel mad for the way he treated you.” 

Leo huffed shakily, swallowing the uneasy lump forming in his throat. “I wasn’t—” 

“Truthfully, lion,” he warned. “Answer me truthfully.” 

“Of course I was mad,” he spat, shaking his head. “I-I was upset. She left me too and I needed him, but instead he…he just shut me out. I was so upset. I was. I knew that he was grieving, but so was I. I needed my dad.” 

The man gently brushed a thumb against the corner of his eye, stopping the fresh tears that were threatening to tumble down his cheeks. He couldn’t help but lean into the touch, his mind racing. He didn’t think he had ever talked about this. He didn’t think he’d ever told anybody at work the real reason why he left, or the fact that his father didn’t want anything to do with him after his mother left. He briefly remembered one memory, with his father necking down a big bottle of whiskey, lamenting through angry tears that Leo looked just like her. 

He sucked in a sharp breath, apolgising softly under his breath. Roy let out a long, quiet sigh. 

“Hey, lion,” he murmured, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I’m not saying this to be cruel. You know that, right?” 

Leo nodded his head sharply. “I know. I know, I’m just…”

His words died off, and the man swiftly decided to take the reins, keeping the sparking embers of the painful conversation going. 

“Putting it into perspective stings a little, doesn’t it?” He hummed, his lip curving up into a subtle smirk. He imagined his fathers face, what he was doing right now, drinking to the ends of the bottle, his collection of string instruments gathering dust in his office. “Doesn’t matter if he was grieving. He should have been there for his son. Do you really want to go back to that again, lion? After what he did to you?” 

He forced his eyes shut. His nose wrinkled in discontent, fighting the probing questions that were only making his head a complete mess. He didn’t know what to think anymore, that sickening pain from the past throbbing deep in his chest again, almost making it difficult to breathe. 

“I should,” he whispered, his shoulders sagging. Because he should. But he wasn’t so sure anymore. 

“Poor little lion,” Roy drawled, shifting closer so his eyes fluttered open. Leo gazed at him with watery eyes, his bottom lip curving into a deep frown. “You just wanted some love, didn’t you?” 

Leo did. He’d lost his mother that day, lay awake at night wondering if it had been his fault, but in the process, he’d lost his father too. He’d always dreamed he’d be like him someday, taking on all of his wise wisdom and knowledge, but that had been subsequently shattered after his father stopped teaching him. After his childhood passion was lost at the bottom of a glass. 

He jerkily nodded his head. “Yes.” 

The man’s eyes turned coy, that smile of his making Leo’s stomach flip, like it had a mind of its own. It made his cheeks flush, wondering if he just didn’t have enough water earlier. He made a soft, pitiful little cooing noise, and Leo’s cells sang with an itching thrill at the prospect of what he was prolonging. He swallowed, his throat bobbing. A part of him was displeased at how unbothered Roy was about this all. 

“You still need it now, don’t you?” He purred. “There’s no need to be shy.”

There wasn’t really. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it, and it wasn’t like they hadn’t indulged each other once before. Leo knew he was getting into something really dangerous here, but there was something completely sucking him in, completely warping his thoughts, and it was scary how much he was willing to give up the last part of himself to Roy. 

The man chuckled softly under his breath, as if he could sense the chaos ensuing in his mind. He still gently cupped the side of his jaw, leaning in to kiss him once again. This time, Leo felt the fire ignite in his core, his heart thrumming in his chest in a way it hadn’t before, like it was singing. The man’s thumb gently found its way to his bottom lip, tugging it down slightly to deepen it. Leo’s soft whine was muffled against his mouth, gasping against his teeth and reaching up to grab his shirt. Roy came to stop him, barely breaking the kiss apart to speak. 

“Watch your fingers,” he warned in a low voice that had him shivering, flinching in surprise when his lips found his again. He could feel him shifting closer to him, Leo’s back pressing into the mattress once more as the mercenary’s hand braced beside his head, an intense fire igniting in the air. His arms came up and over Roy’s shoulders, bottom of his palms digging into his shoulder blades in an attempt to steady himself from under him. 

Leo could barely hear anything over the bass of his own heart, his blood running like magma through his head, and the wet smacking of their lips. The sweet taste of apple on Roy’s tongue, sizzling into his own taste buds and making his eyes water. Everything was buzzing and when he felt a hand creeping under his shirt, hot and heavy against his skin, Leo simply arched into the touch, his moans breathless and swallowed by his lips. 

The mercenary peeled away, much to Leo’s disappointment, saliva glistening on their lips. He littered soft little kisses against his cheek, and then down to his neck, hand gently easing his head aside to expose the flesh there, covered in goosebumps. Leo couldn’t find the strength in his voice, struggling to even untwist his tongue. 

“Wait, wait, I—” He was cut off by a sharp, pained hiss on his tongue, the man having pressed a little too hard on the bruises there with his tongue. He lifted his head, and the hand retracted from under his shirt, giving Leo a chance to catch his breath. Roy hummed, his brow raised, before a smug grin broke out across his face. 

“Best if we wait until you’ve recovered, huh?” He murmured under his breath, admiring the flushed heat on Leo’s face. He could only manage a jerky nod, finding himself eager to pop open one of the windows and feel some fresh air to cool him down.

tag list – @unorganisedalienrubbish @d-cs @rabidrabidme @sordayciega @burningkittypoet @whumpawink @mannerofwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @whatwasmyprevioususername @crilex29 @firefly017 @dutifullykrispyland @wibbly-wobbly-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @anonintrovert @justawhumpjunkie @whumptastic-world @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @whumpterful-beeeeee @anonymous1235 @sonder35 @unforgiven235 @whumpasaurus101 @mj-or-say10 @professional-idiocy @seaweed-is-cool @theelvishcowgirl @atomicsandwichprince @sunshiline-writes @peasandpotatos @pirefyrelight

[falldogbombsthemoon]

I'm tired of having to cuff all my jeans. Someone send me 7cm leg length, please. Thank you.

[not-aar0n-05]

Andrew Minyard wears combat boots because yes, they look cool, but also mostly because they make him look taller

[kohakhearts]

its wip wednesday and i have nothing to share. just wanted to say ive written a non-zero amount of words this week, which hasn’t happened since mid-june at best. everyone say good job taylor (please)

[theflyingfeeling]

Second Day of Gift-Giving: Two Dialogue Partners

Prompt: "Oh, you’re cold! Do you want my hoodie?"

This part is a continuation of the first part, which you can read here!

~

There was snow in Oulu. That was the first thing Aleksi noticed when he opened his eyes after landing. He was sure the snowline actually went somewhere far souther, but he had decided to rest is eyes a little shortly after take-off, since even Rilla was wise enough to do so, curled up in his carrier by Aleksi’s feet. Aleksi supposed she, too, was exhausted from the early wake-up call after the restless night they had had; however, Aleksi doubted the reason for Rilla’s uneasiness was less due to being just too damn excited about seeing Aleksi’s bandmate and perhaps more due to ‘pillow moving too much’ (the ‘pillow’ in question being Aleksi).

It was also a lot colder in Oulu than it had been in Helsinki when they had left, which shouldn’t have been a surprise. Still, Aleksi found his teeth clattering as he sat down on the passenger seat of Olli’s sedan, wondering how on earth he had imagined he would be warm enough in just his leather jacket and a longsleeve.

“Yeah, sorry, the air conditioning is stuck on freezing. I’m gonna have it fixed later this week,” Olli explained, and Aleksi was tempted to ask if he meant the air conditioning of his car or of the entire north of Finland.

The drive from the airport to Olli’s place wasn’t hopelessly long, but long enough for Aleksi to still be quivering moments after they had already entered Olli’s pleasantly warm apartment. Although Aleksi tried his best to hold back the shivers, he saw Olli looking at him with a slight frown.

“You’re still cold? Do you need to borrow a hoodie?”

Without waiting for an answer, Olli disappeared into his bedroom and seconds later came back with a grey bundle in his hands, passing it to Aleksi.

“Here, I wore it briefly after a shower this morning, so it’s practically unused. I hope that’s alright, all my other ones are in the laundry.”

Aleksi didn’t have the heart to tell Olli he had, in fact, packed some hoodies of his own, nor was he strong enough to fight against the prospect of getting to wear one of Olli’s incredibly soft hoodies again. The last time he had done so had been on their last tour, half by accident when Aleksi had grabbed the nearest piece of clothing to put on himself when he had gotten the chills mid-nap in the RV, half by some self-tormenting curiosity to find out if having something of Olli’s so close to him would have the same effect on him as having Olli near him. (It did, as it turned out, very much indeed, because in his light sleep, Aleksi had seen all sorts of surreal dreams with Olli starring in the main role, and when he had woken up, his mind had been dizzier than ever with everything he felt for his friend.)

The hoodie he was now pulling on himself smelled of fabric softener and, ever so slightly, of Olli’s cologne, which he must have put on before changing into the black sweater he was now wearing. Aleksi hugged himself and quietly thanked Olli as he leaned back on the living room sofa, smiling at Rilla excitedly running after a ball Olli had apparently bought for her just for the occasion. He huddled up further into the sofa while listening to Olli talk about a heated topic in the band group chat, and Aleksi wished he could’ve been paying more attention, but he was too distracted by the faint smell of Olli surrounding him to think about much else. Instead, he let his eyes close as Olli kept chattering away in his calming voice, both to him as well as to Rilla, and with all the sleep debt he was running on, it was too easy for Aleksi to fall asleep on the sofa; finally warm, finally where Olli was.

He hadn’t intended for the nap to last so long, however; when he next opened his eyes, the bits of sky he saw from Olli’s windows were pitch black, although it really was no shock considering how early the sun set around this time of the year. Blinking his eyes a few times, he noticed Olli had lit up candles on the coffee table and turned on the fairy lights above the TV. The man himself was sitting on the floor with his back resting against the sofa Aleksi was resting on, Rilla curled up on his lap. His hair tickled Aleksi’s forehead when he turned to look at him.

“Good nap?”

“Mmmmhhh. Yeah,” Aleksi answered and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry for falling asleep though.”

“It’s okay. You were tired.”

“Mmmmhhh,” Aleksi hummed again, too comfortable under the blanket that had somehow ended up on him to make an effort to sit up just yet. He closed his eyes again for just a few more seconds and listened to Olli move slowly, supposedly as to not bother Rilla too much.

Opening his eyes again, Aleksi found himself staring straight into Olli’s dark ones that glowed in the soft candlelight, studying him, holding his gaze as if he was trying to ask him something.

Aleksi wished he would have. He wished Olli would’ve asked him why he was so sleep-deprived, or why he had squeezed him so hard at the airport, or why he had smiled so blissfully while fondling the strings of the hoodie Olli had given him. He may not have been able to give an answer, albeit it being short and simple, but it would’ve been nice to be given the chance at least.

Now, with Olli’s eyes travelling on his face, Aleksi felt like he had no chance at all to do anything but let him, even though it was driving him crazy, having Olli’s face so close to his all of a sudden. He felt defenceless under Olli’s gaze that seemed indecisive about whether it should stay on Aleksi’s eyes or his mouth, which didn’t help Aleksi’s case in the slightest. His breath became shallow as he remembered the last time Olli had looked him like that, in the dim lighting of an American hotel room, and Aleksi would’ve given nearly anything for Olli to be the first to lean in this time as well, because Aleksi himself for sure didn’t have half the courage Olli seemed to have.

For a second (or two or three), it felt as if Olli was leaning in, at least close enough for Aleksi to feel him exhale before he straightened his back and glanced at the dog on his lap.

“Would you guys be down for some dinner soon? I’m getting kinda hungry,” he spoke, directing his words more towards Rilla, whose ears twitched at the mention of dinner.

Aleksi tried to find Olli’s gaze again and failed, because suddenly there must have been something extremely fascinating on Rilla’s fur instead, judging by how intently Olli was observing it.

“Sure,” Aleksi sighed. When Olli stood up, mumbling something about a frozen pizza before striding off to the kitchen with Rilla on his heels, Aleksi bit his lip at another lost opportunity to make up for all the time he had wasted pining after Olli and barely doing a damn thing about it. 

He could only hope the universe would be kind enough to grant him some more lucky chances like this; one of these days, he might actually lose it and make good use of them, at least once he had first untangled the massive knots of fear, worry and embarrassment. 

[undertalebrittle]

a flower for my beloved!!!! (roller)

[carcarrot]

do i really want to make individual drinks again

[tinymoonlight]

💚🖥️ Neon J cg headcanons !

back with another nsr hc post!! been brainstorming and ruminating on his guy for a few days and i finally have the abundance of free time to write cg hcs for him! Hopefully ya'll find some enjoyment from this post! Headcanons below the cut like last time! 💚

OTHER NSR CG HCS: [🌌🎧 DJ Subatomic Supernova cg headcanons]

I think he'd be a very routine oriented caregiver, has a strict schedule for the times when he feeds you, your nap time, playtime, bed time, etc.

As a captain, I feel like he's also very good at discipline, in both teaching you self control and manners, and also appropriately giving you time outs whenever he feels you need them (but don't worry, he's never cruel with you!)

Loves to carry you on his shoulders! He's a very tall cyborg man though, so if you have a fear of heights or don't really like being carried, he'll always compromise with just simply holding your hand so he knows you're nearby.

Speaking of, I feel like he's very protective of you and always concerned about your safety, he..can't exactly trust the city to be a completely safe place for a little one like you, though he dreams of one day being able to make it so…

He builds you little mechanical toys! The shelves in your playroom at Barraca mansion would be lined with all kinds of cool action figures and little wind-up toys! (you get the latest 1010 figurines before the public does)

Oh, forgot to mention but all of the 1010 members are practically your older brother figures, they absolutely adore you and are tasked with watching you and making sure you adhere to your schedule when Neon J is busy with matters regarding NSR. (I may write hcs for 1010 in the future…)

He'll absolutely teach you to dance! He's significantly more patient with you than he is with 1010 admittedly…but the main difference between you and them is you're not responsible for providing the city with power! So teaching you to dance during his free time is significantly less stressful on his shoulders. 

Calls you his "little sailor" and his "smallest cadet" 💚

Might dress you up in a sailor outfit with a similar style to 1010 as well, then coo over how adorable you look! 

Admittedly…a lot of his robotic body parts make cuddling not really the best experience but! If you tolerate the hard metal of his limbs as he lays you against his chest, you'll be able to hear a mixture of robotic systems whirring and a steady but strong heartbeat that lulls you to sleep.

He'd absolutely sing you to sleep if you wanted, though it might sound a little silly since his singing voice is autotuned..