#it's only the second one though so please have mercy on my poor soul

[yandere-sins]

the yandere ghost is just 💕😭. your thoughts on yandere König? 👀

Thank you ♥ Please enjoy :3 (I am also really enjoying it rn that I have the ö key on my keyboard hehehe, fuck yeah, finally the german keyboard is useful >:D)

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♡ Lord have mercy on the poor soul trapped with and König himself. He can't go even a second without thinking of his darling stuck alone at the base (living their best life away from him), but once he's around you, he's way too awkward to do anything with you. If you were to hold out your hand invitingly to him, he'd—at most!— brush his fingertips over your palm, ready to die happily as he shudders from the sensation. Guy holds your hand once (which costs him a ton of courage), and his heart just... stops. He has to leave the room afterward, or he might lose it, sweating, cursing, pants bulging, and so, so much need inside him to go back and do it again. He wants to go back immediately, kiss you, hold you, and rub against you just once. But unless you invite him again, he'll try to be patient and not pressure you into it, even if it's (he's) so hard and kneeling in front of you, biting his lip so he doesn't beg you to tell him to come closer.

♡ Luckily, his awkwardness also means there is a way to get some peace by collecting all your courage and just randomly hug him while he's busy doing something (that he thinks you'll like, like cleaning or cooking). It'll put him into a state of shock that could potentially make or break your escape. Just kidding. You reach for his gun? You're on the ground or pinned against the wall, his arm choking you as he shouts at you to never fucking do that again. He's scared for your safety first, scary as he looms, pins, and threatens you second. König will be incredibly sorry afterward for hurting you and lashing out as he has to watch you try to breathe again once he retreats after realization sets in. He's furious—at you, at him, at the fact you could have been hurt by his negligence. So at least he leaves you alone for a while to cool off and find a solution, only returning when he's secured some sweets and gummi bears as an attempt for you two to reconcile.

♡ He's very much a beaten dog that will run to any kind of affection you give him. Ask him a question? He drops everything and stands by your side in seconds, even if it's just yes or no. He's inching closer, and you don't look at him or tell him to stop? He'll put his head in your lap and let out a giant blissful sigh. König tries to join any activity he permitted, so if you chill on the couch and watch TV, get ready to almost drop over the edge while he scoots in behind you, or have him hover over you while you do a puzzle, watching which piece you'll place next with enormous interest. He lives for not being rejected by you, and it's his ruin when you tell him to leave you alone and to go away, that you hate him, or that you'll never like him. Please balance these two things carefully, 'cause one day he'll decide to be the monster you keep trying to make him out to be. And you won't like learning just how big, bad, and needy he can be when you push him over the edge. Hint: You're just a doll (what kind depends on his mood) in his hands. Never forget that.

♡ Absolutely does not share you. Don't you dare to look at someone else, even if he has to bring you on a mission. Don't sit anywhere but his lap, never leave his side, and for the love of God, don't open your mouth to speak to anyone but him. Somehow, being with other people makes all these insecurities and anxiety go away for a while, even though when you two are back in private, he asks if you still like him the most. It's almost as if he is showing you off, but the moment someone notices you, he gets growly and visibly possessive, placing his arm around your body (slinging it over your shoulder and grabbing your side like a seatbelt), picking you up, making you straddle his thigh and face him, etc. König hates everyone and anything that looks at you, almost more than when they look at him and he feels judged. You're simply off-limits for others.

♡ He rarely threatens you with violence, but he's love bombing you to the extent that sometimes you forget you're his captive, not his actual partner. König brings you new flowers whenever the old ones wilt, asks you to dance in the kitchen with him, cooks your favorite meals regularly, and asks you out on dates (those rarely happen because "you don't know how to behave," he says, giggling. He doesn't know how to behave either, maybe you two shouldn't be out there together). He buys you things that remind him of you, and even when you have an emergency craving, he gets out at one in the morning to somehow fulfill it. König constantly tells you how much you mean to him and that you're the best thing that's ever happened in his life. If he's a little more confident in your relationship (aka, after you stopped struggling so much), you can count on many gentle touches, pats, head kisses, hugs, hand kisses, rocking you to sleep, etc. He really makes it seem like you're in a relationship.

♡ You probably made the mistake of getting a bit too friendly with him for his twisted mind to understand you were just trying to be nice. He never had that kind of connection with anyone before, and he just had to have you afterward, all to himself, or he might have lost his mind. This desperation is why he keeps you locked away, trying so desperately to sweeten the deal for you by doing everything he can to appease you. There's no one else to wait for him whenever he returns home, give his life another meaning other than killing, so he clings to you who once showed him exactly what he always wanted—an unafraid smile, a welcoming greeting, and kindness radiating off you. He can't share you for the very same reason, knowing that you could make any man go mad with your abilities to welcome them into your life.

♡ Calls you all sorts of loving names like: "Schatz" (treasure), "Liebling" (Darling), "Kleine/Kleiner/Kleines" (fem/masc/gn translates to "Little/Small one") as well as "Große/Großer" (fem/masc translates to "Big/Tall one"), "Prinz/Prinzessin/Eure Majestät" (Prince, Princess, Your Majesty).

♡ You're the only person who can make him come to a complete standstill. He's known to be hyperactive and rarely able to calm down. Still, if you are forced to hug him and let his hand run up and down your back, he's the most focused and calm soldier anyone has ever seen. He doesn't blink, doesn't flinch or move (if not to put you out of harm's way), doesn't speak—a massive silent blot in the landscape. He's able to focus on everything that's discussed, can answer questions easily without stuttering. All that and more, just because he has you like a little comfort plush. It's something his Platoon knows to appreciate and use if needed. Otherwise, they try to stay away from you as far as possible to avoid the calmness turning into terror, unlike what these soldiers have ever seen. No one wants to cross König. They leave being a ragdoll to you.

♡ On days that he comes home exhausted, his insecurities and awkwardness will just be overwritten by exhaustion, so he doesn't care what he does as long as it involves you. He'll lead your hands to where he wants to be touched, forcing you to undress him and ripping your clothes off so he can take you to the bath with him, where you two squeeze into his tub together. There's little space, but König hugs you to his chest and hides his face in your shoulder, taking deep breaths to decompress while you have the option to either ask if he wants to talk about his day or stay silent. He won't allow you to complain or struggle, shutting it down immediately. Squeezing you shut if he must. He's over it for that day. He does, however, not force but relish in it if you decide to take care of him on a whim or because you don't want to be stuck in his tight embrace. He'll let you wash the dirt and blood sticking to him off, kissing your hands reverently as if they are his lifeline keeping him grounded, thoughts off the battlefield, lets you comb his hair, massage his back, or even touch his face before he helps you dry off, wrapping you with his huge towel and carries you to bed with him. Never mind food or other necessities, König simply buries you under his body as he falls asleep partially on top of you. He's not even sorry for touching you so much in the morning. He just apologizes sleepily for drooling on you before he gets up to get some water for you two, still in his full, naked glory. He does, however, eventually realize you two slept next to each other stark-naked, and he has to recover from choking on the water he just drank while he runs to get you both clothes.

[endstar]

Therapy au doug would refuse their services and temptations in the sadest way-

Nurse: Mmm-hmm. No problem. Bierce? I see. How troublesome. Yep. We can handle that. Absolutely. Leave it to us. You don't have to worry about a thing! Well, speak of the devil. Looks like he just walked in. Ooh and he's a looker too. I'll get back to you shortly, okay? Bye bye now!

Therapy doug: *under his breath* I don't look THAT good looking... nobody genuinely thinks I look good...

Nurse: Greetings and welcome to this place of healing & mercy! Mind if I take a closer look at you.

Doug: don't think i have a choice, like with most things-

Nurse: Oh, you poor thing. I see that life was not kind to you. You still carry around so much of that pain. It must weigh terribly on you.

Doug: nope. I am perfectly fine. (Lies)

Nurse: Ah, and now you've chosen to serve the deal breaker. How curious. Are you not aware that she offers only lies? Lord Malak can offer you so much more. You need only to return that which you have taken from him.

Doug: she's the only one that hasn't tried to kill me yet. Most people lie to me about everything- I'm used to it-

Nurse: We'll get to that later though. For now, you did the right thing coming here to see us. You don't need to suffer anymore. We can heal your soul. We can offer the beauty that you desire. You need only be ready & willing to be accept our mercy. Do you want to become one of our new patients? (laughs) What am I saying? Of course you do. What a silly thing to ask. First things first though. We need to check your vitals. The deal breaker may have infected your body and mind as well as your soul. After all, Lord Malak's infinite power was never meant for mere mortals. You've been using them quite recklessly. There may be dire consequences for your health. Please, follow me.

Doug: I don't need help- wouldn't you want to wait for a patient that actually needs and deserves help? If there are dire consequences to my health, it's fine! I deserve it! I'll be OK, and if I haven't noticed them now I can keep ignoring my symptoms :D

Nurse: ....just follow-

-in that one hall scene-

Nurse: See anything you like?

Doug: ....wait adults are allowed to still feel like they like things? I thought that got beaten out of you at the age of 4-

Nurse: ....l-lets just get to the tests-

-first kill attempt-

Nurse: Right in here. Let's check your weight first, shall we? Once you are ready to begin accepting our mercy, please step up onto the scale.

Doug: *under his breath* my teachers used to check my weight as a kid... other kids started laughing at my weight calling me fatty... I stopped eating around people when they could see me-

Nurse: ...just get on the scale-

-after it nearly kills him-

Nurse: What? Is something wrong? My apologies. Must be a malfunction. Don't worry, I'll put in a work order to get that fixed.

Doug: *under his breath* ....I knew you didn't care...

Nurse: OK, next step - we need to do a little lab work.

-second kill attempt-

Nurse: I just need to take a small blood sample. You're not afraid of needles are you?

Doug: I uh... have a history with them- I should be fine... (he in fact WON'T be fine, but doesn't want to be more of a burden than he is to the nurse)

Nurse: OK great! Stay right there and don't move! Wait until the timer reaches zero! I'll be right outside the door

-near death experience again-

Nurse: Didn't I say not to move?! So you are afraid of needles, noted!

Doug: I am- but that nearly killed me-

Nurse: Let me remind you that we do not have time to play games with our patients. Please take this more seriously if you wished to be saved.

Doug: I'm sorry... I'm really sorry... I-I'm not trying to waste your time and- I already refused your help, that I don't want or need! I'm fine, I-I am perfectly fine! I've always found a way to be fine! So I don't have to waste anyone's time, or rob someone else of the help they need! I'm sorry for wasting your time- please don't hate me for not seeming serious, I'm sorry... I-I didn't mean to... I'm sorry, like- really really sorry..! Please don't be mad, please don't be mad- I'm sorry-

Nurse: ...let's just- go to the next test-

-the third attempt-

Nurse: How about a chest X-Ray? You afraid of those as well?

Doug: ...I-I'm sorry...

Nurse: Let's try this again. Wait right there and this time, don't move. It's your last chance. Same deal. Wait until the counter reaches zero. I'll be right outside

-near death again-

Nurse: Where are you going? Come back here! I still have more tests to run!

Doug: fool me once, shame on me! Fool me twice, still shame on me! Fool me three times, shame on me again but I'm not letting you keep fooling me! I'm sorry-

-at the door-

Nurse: Sir! This is unacceptable! We will not accept unruly patients!

Doug: I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-

Nurse: (Sighs) What a shame. It seems you've been infected by that woman after all. You do not desire salvation. You are just another vile man after all. Chaotic and infectious, like a virus. Very well. We know how to deal with viruses. If eradication is your true desire, we shall grant it. It might be comforting to tell you that your death will be quick and painless, but that would be a lie. After all, we can get a bit carried away when performing our duties.

Doug: ....you betrayed me like everyone in my life- listen I understand that I am probably the most worthless, disgusting, pathetic, useless-

Nurse: ...oh boy-

Doug: -cheating, ugly, pure evil man you have met, and that I probably should have never even been born at all- and dying IS something that I want, but I'm half worried I'm going make someone's job more stressful in hell, like I'm making your job stressful- but I need to fix my mistakes! Because if I make mistakes, I'm not worth anything to anyone, and I'm wroth even less than I'm already worth! A-and I messed up big time! I'm sorry, I didn't ask for this- I didn't ask to exist- a lot of people would still be alive if I didn't exist- you'd be happier if I didn't exist- a lot of people would be happy- I didn't ask for this- I'm sorry, I'm really sorry- no one will forgive me for any of my mistakes, and I won't forgive myself if I can't fix them- I just want to fix my mistakes before I die- I'm sorry that's getting in the way of your job- please don't hate me-

Bierce this whole time: “STOP APOLOGIZING YOU DEPRESSED COCKROACH-”

[incorrect-inkworld-quotes]

Inky Holiday Exchange 2021

I had the great honour to gift a little something to @schleierkauz for the @inkyholidayexchange. I tried to incorporate what you like as best as I could and I really hope you’ll enjoy! Without further ado, here’s the thing ✨

I’d Come Home For You Too

“Brianna…”, Roxane interrupted, the tone barely chiding. Brianna stayed silent then, ate her food instead and Dustfinger couldn’t find better words to save himself from his faults. Something death hadn’t been able to wash away. His faults stayed, they would stay. Always.

----

When Brianna comes home for a week, Dustfinger is reminded of his guilt of leaving again and again. It's not that he doesn't want to fix their relationship, it's just that he doesn't know how to.

3594 words, no warnings, just Dustfinger trying very, very hard to be a father. 

A gentle breeze caught Dustfinger’s long hair, tugged at his cloak as if it was calling him away. It brought the smell of oleander along, of the soft moss growing on the trees nearby like a veil. Brought along the whisper of the wind, maybe even its touch. Like a white finger, tracing his face where his scars once had been. 

He couldn’t help himself but to move his own, bring some warmth back to his skin. 

Warmth. He had longed for it the past few days. Not even the fire had managed to scare the cold away completely, the one that nisted deep inside his chest like a reminder. His nights had been cold, had made him wake up drenched in sweat and sweet words on his lips. 

You will come often. And go often. He still didn’t know what the white women’s words meant.

Wandering deep into the wayless forest had been his attempt at trying to get rid of it. The impression of not being alone. The angry buzzing of the fire faeries reminded him of his purpose. Not that their nectar could improve his abilities any more. He still had enough from coming here the last time, his understanding of the flames deeper than ever before. It had been more about the ritual. Having a bit of nostalgia, of old routines to ground him. 

However, the wind. 

The wind tugged at his coat, whispering, touching, teasing. 

He looked into the distance, back the way where he had come from and thought of Roxane’s cottage, of the red anemones growing in her garden; and suddenly he wondered why he had gone out into the woods if he could easily find everything he needed at home. 

You fool, have you still not learnt?, he berated himself and bid the forest good-bye before he could fully be welcomed by it. 

His heart was a silly little thing, and treacherous on top. This was nothing new, but he felt the betrayal deeply each time when he saw Brianna and still hoped for a smile. Softness. Anything, really, but the deepness in her eyes that spoke of unfamiliarity and coldness. Betrayal of its own kind. 

She had grown a lot since he had seen her last, grown completely, perhaps. Her face had lost the last of its childlike roundness, her features now sharper like her mother’s. Healthy. It calmed him to see that she was treated well as Violante’s maid, it calmed Roxane as well. She arrived just at the same time as him, on a proud horse that kept her dress’ seam clean and pretty. Expensive clothes, he could tell. It was what she deserved. 

He patted the goose so the alarm quickly stopped, but Roxane still came out to see what had caused the short commotion. There was an instant spark of happiness in her eyes as she saw them both. He hoped that his own eyes mirrored hers. 

So he, quite sensibly, asked his daughter, “Were you kicked out again?”

Her face instantly fell into a scowl, she didn’t even deem him an answer. Instead she hopped down from her horse, and went to hug Roxane tightly.

“Violante told me to visit for a week. It’s been so long”, she explained to her mother. She offered a bundle of fresh herbs. “A gift.”

“How generous”, Roxane answered with a smile, then sniffed on the plants.

“She also gave me a list of herbs to bring back.”

“Of course. Come in, both of you must be hungry.”

Dustfinger didn’t hesitate to follow her inside if only to escape the weird tension in the garden. The house was as warm as he left it, Jehan sat at the table and copied texts Resa had left him. Even if he had been suspicious of her at first, he too had warmed up to her easily. She visited regularly to buy herbs from Roxane, taught Jehan and Farid as payment and left work for them to do until she’d come next time. 

“How has been work? How is Jacopo?” Roxane asked while she prepared a simple lunch. Some bacon, grilled pepper and bread. 

“He is… Still Jacopo”, Brianna answered carefully. 

Dustfinger could only imagine what hidden meaning lay behind those words. How could one describe a child like this? That murdered his grandfather cold blooded? If he was like his mother, surely he would be fine. Silvertongue had said something about a child psychiatrist, Resa had agreed eagerly. Violante had consulted a soul healer after they had explained the concept then, but Dusfinger’s hopes were rather slim. 

“He stopped kicking the dogs”, Brianna added. A small victory at least! “And you? How have you been?”

Roxane brought over the food with a heartfelt smile. “How could I possibly be better than this with all my favourite people at one table?” With a small gesture to Jehan, she said, “Put your work away for now, let’s eat.” 

Then, for the first time, Brianna looked at Dustfinger. “And your son? How’s he?”

That’s what she called him. He believed she was trying to be petty, but he had no excuse to call Farid anything else. Not after- 

Well. There was no use in correcting something that wasn’t truly wrong to begin with. Dustfinger cleared his throat a bit. “He is well. He is with the Black Prince for a while. Seeing the world.”

“So why are you here?” The accusation cut through the room like a knife, hurting just like Basta’s knives had hurt. Just deeper. 

Dustfinger looked down on his plate, on his bacon, preppers and bread. He knew that he’d say the wrong thing, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. Not anymore. “Those places I’ve already seen.”

“That would be boring, I am sure.”

“Brianna…”, Roxane interrupted, the tone barely chiding. Brianna stayed silent then, ate her food instead and Dustfinger couldn’t find better words to save himself from his faults. 

Something death hadn’t been able to wash away. His faults stayed, they would stay. Always. 

When he helped Roxane wash up the dishes, she put a hand on his wrist. “She’s still hurt. You have to understand.” 

Did it seem like he did not understand? Really? But I do understand, he wanted to say. I understand that she’s hurt. Sometimes I just don’t understand why you’re not hurt also.

He handed Roxane the cloth to dry her hands afterwards and they moved outside, continuing the work. The well’s bucket had fallen and even if he could not call water, it was what he tried to fix now. He could not help but wonder who had done these kinds of works while he was gone and Roxane had been alone. It made him ache for a time long gone by, made him feel guilty, made him wish that the reminder of it would not currently help Roxane with the flowers. That was the cowardly part, hidden well within himself, only rarely acknowledged and already believed gone. 

Yes. The fear of death might be gone. He treasured life. But the coward inside of him simply had found a new fear for him to avoid. Like cold voices it whispered in his mind, asking him why he had returned early, just in time to run into Brianna? What a coincidence. To trust his whim and have it pay so perfectly, cruelly. 

The day passed, so did the next and nothing Dustfinger did or said helped the tense situation between him and his daughter. What he did or said was nothing. Not even that helped. It soured his mood and his surroundings picked up on it. The goose took longer to calm down and Gwin would not stray a foot from its master, as if afraid to be left behind. Which was a reasonable fear and that made all of it even worse. 

The nights were cold, not just because the winter drew nearer, but also because the dreams were filled with memories, with longing calls and white faces. It made him wake up multiple times at which he pressed his sparkling hot hand on his chest, to find back to the warmth. Angrily he stared into the darkness that usually brought him peace, only to see Brianna’s disappointed face in it. If he knew how to fix it, he’d try. 

On a late afternoon, the sun already started to set, Jehan had finished copying lines--his handwriting was so much better than Dustfnger’s--and ran outside to help his mother. 

The boy crouched down to weed the flower beds and it was merely a couple minutes until he flinched back from the fire anemones. 

“Here, let me”, Dustfinger mumbled and quickly pulled the dandelion and grass around it. The anemone’s leaves like tiny kisses on his skin, instead. 

“It’s unfair”, Jehan said and pouted. Suddenly, Dustfinger found himself helpless. Had he been there to push a hundred pouty lips back in, to stroke away the frowns between those childish eyes, he’d know what to do now. But he hadn’t been there when Brianna had been in spite, when Rosanna had been in despair. Not even with Farid. Roxane knew what to say, even Silvertongue would know. 

“What is unfair?” he asked. Summoned a smile. 

“Farid wouldn’t get burnt. But I do. I get burnt every time.”

Dustfinger looked down at his hands and saw the red spots where the plant had come too close. It was truly an unfair fate for someone scared of the flames. Carefully, he covered it with his own, called the heat back and left unblemished skin behind. The child made wide eyes. For the first time since he saw him use his skill and it loosened something inside his chest. Maybe, he simply didn’t understand that it was the same tongue that called the fire back that could also summon it. 

Eagerly, he grabbed at his sleeve. “Will you show me one time?” 

Dustfinger squirmed. Hadn’t he only meant to teach Farid? Jehan wasn’t even his own. 

What nonsense. He could have slapped himself. He squirmed some more while he reminded himself that Jehan was as much his as Farid. And to teach him how to tame was not so bad, was it? Especially not if it managed to take his fear a bit. 

“Someday, maybe”, Dustfinger replied. A gasp.

When he looked up, he saw Brianna, her lips pressed thinly together, just as she turned around and walked away. Stomped away, but with grace (and pride). 

Whatever he had done wrong, it was totally beyond him. He swallowed down whatever wanted to rise in his chest and scrambled up to follow her. 

“Brianna- Wait!” he called and found her in the back, taking the laundry off the line. She might have been in one place now, but she certainly did not wait to talk. Which was a blessing and a curse, because he definitely didn’t know what to say to her, but at least he had the opportunity to. 

Gwin jumped onto his shoulder, a calming presence. 

“I- I don’t know what I did wrong”, he muttered under his breath, more for himself than for her, but she had heard despite it. 

“I am not surprised, you never seem to do.” Great, so she was willing to talk at least. That made it worse. 

“I am sorry. I wish I knew. I want to know. Really.”

She continued her work, not looking back or replying. He had talked with Roxane about it, multiple times. Leave her time. But let her know that you’ll be there once she’s ready, tell her. He didn’t have the words to say it. What would he give for those hated words other people could control so powerfully. Orpheus, Fenoglio, Meggie, Resa. Anyone’s. At this moment, he really did not care, he just wanted to say, “Brianna, I want to fix this.”

“Then try”, she hissed, and stomped inside (gracefully). 

Wasn’t I just trying?, he wondered and felt as helpless as if he had been thrown into an entirely different world. He knew what that had felt like, so he could make that comparison with utmost certainty. 

Dustfinger was restless. He tried to ignore it, that feeling of tingling fingers, of the blood pumping faster than he needed for sitting still and the desire to breathe in the peculiar smell of the forest, the sea, the mountains. A foolish desire, he knew, as it was just a ghost of old longings, he had just tested that out, he did not need to try it again. His true desire was to talk with Brianna without either of them abruptly shutting up or storming off. No, he would sit this week out and prove that he did not have to run away from his fears. He could face rightful rejection. Hadn’t he faced death herself? How could this be any worse?

Just as he finished those thoughts, Roxane put down a basket in front of him. “We’re out of paper and ink. Will you go and fetch some? Jehan needs it for his work.” 

Dustfinger was certain that he had seen a whole stack of paper just two days ago, he couldn’t have possibly used it all up yet. For a moment, he wondered if this was just an excuse for him to leave, if Roxane had seen right through him. Most certainly she had. Thankfully, he took the basket and the purse and made his way to Ombra. If they needed new paper and Roxane asked him to go, who was he to refuse? He would be only gone for a few hours. The trip might bring fresh air to him, let him recharge in peace from his overthinking. 

The imagery had been admirable, really. 

“-and how would I know if no one ever tells me such things? I just told Darius yesterday, didn’t I, Darius?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Well, there you have it. It is impossible how expensive the paper is and even more impossible how impossible it is for me to buy it! They won’t even talk to me while paying, they only talk to Darius!”

The loud voice of the old woman made his ears ring, as if the streets of Ombra weren’t loud enough already. 

“If you hate it so much here, maybe you should go back to your world then?” Dustfinger hissed only to be met by a scandalised face. 

“And leave my family behind?” She gaped at him, but used to call him rude. “You of all people should know how much pain it brings to be separated from one's family!” Dustfinger flinched. “Also, I really quite like it here, aside from horrendous paper prices.” 

“Well, good thing you have it, now. I need to buy some too.”

“Paper?” Elinor repeated, but stepped aside to give room at the stand. 

“Yes, for my s- for my wife’s- for Jehan, my-” Pathetically, he gave up. The old woman did not laugh, though. Rather, she looked at him with understanding. She waited until he had purchased paper and ink, no matter if he wanted or not, and then walked a few steps along. 

“It’s difficult to bond with him?” 

Dustfinger thought back of Jehan’s excitement when he had told him he’d teach him to tame the fire and could not totally agree. The boy had opened up to him in the last months, it became easier every day. No, it was not that hard to bond with him. 

“It’s okay. It’s much harder with my daughter.”

“Brianna?” The old woman put a hand on his arm, squeezed with sympathy. Darius smiled at him, too. He did not know what to make of it. 

“Yes. She doesn’t like me. I do not know how to… Talk to her.”

“I understand”, the old woman then said and nodded. “After my niece had disappeared, contact with Mo and Meggie had been sparse. He never really admitted it, but I think he tried to avoid me, so that I would not ask too many questions. When you all turned up on my doorstep that one day, I also did not know how to be. Especially with Meggie, who looked so much like her mother but carried so little from her, as she grew up without her. I am not good with kids. I’m really not.”

Dustfinger remembered. Now that she pointed it out, he truly could see the similarities. 

“But now you are good with all of them”, he mentioned and hated the longing and envy that was so obvious in his voice. 

“Yes, yes I am. Bonding in Capricorn’s village must have helped. If I am grateful for any of it, then simply that I got to get to know Meggie in that time. You can’t expect to trust and talk to one another easily if you don’t know each other well enough. It needs time.”

“That’s what Roxane says, too.”

“Well then, there you have it! What is the problem?”

“It just doesn’t work”, he admitted and after a raised eyebrow, he told her begrudgingly how Brianna stayed over and how they simply could not talk to one another without it just going wrong. 

“You can’t just exist next to each other. When I say that you need to spend time with each other, I mean that you should work on one thing together. Have you considered that she thought you were going to teach Jehan your fire magic and that she was jealous?”

“But she doesn’t want that.”

“Have you asked?”

No. He hadn’t. He had just assumed, because she had never asked. But had he offered? He hated to admit it, but the old woman was right. He thanked her with a scowl on his face and hurried to get back home, now with an urgency to see Brianna again he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Hastily, he put down the basket on the kitchen table and went to look for his daughter. He found her sitting under the autumn’s sun, humming a soft melody. She flinched a little with surprise when she noticed him.

“I-”

“You’re already back”, she noted. 

“I was just in Ombra to get paper.”

“I assumed you’d take a detour.”

“I wouldn’t. Not while you’re here.”

“Mum, you mean.”

“Yes, but-”

“I’m glad you came home for her, then.”

This was not how Dustfinger had planned for the conversation to go. All the words he had memorised on his way back home were gone, now. He was at point zero again. He had no control over the words, he did not understand them as well, he did not speak them as well, he-

He called the fire, let it paint a face with its flames, so close to what photos were like, just yellow and orange and red and a bit blue. Brianna could clearly not stop herself from looking at it in wonder. There was a frown between her eyes. 

(He wished he had learnt how to wipe it away.)

“This is what you looked like, when I had seen you the last time before I was gone”, he whispered. “I could not call the fire like this, then. I could not draw you or write about you. All I had was my memory, but I promise I held onto it. I held onto you, even if I have nothing to show for it.”

Brianna was silent, watching as her own face tingled over his hands. 

After she had gotten her fill, she looked to the ground, said eventually, “I didn’t know you could do that.”

And Dustfinger got a hold of himself and responded, “Would you like to learn?”

With big eyes, she stared at him. They looked watery. 

“How to talk to the fire, I mean.”

“I don’t need to know how to do your tricks. I can sing, that pays plenty already.”

“You don’t have to”, he quickly reared back. “Only if you want to. I’d teach you.”

“We barely see each other. I bet you wouldn’t even be here the next time that I visit.” She crossed the arms before her chest, but nothing about her defensive posture could hide how her voice cracked. 

“I’m home a lot. If you let me know, I���d come home then.”

“Yeah.” She swallowed, looked into the distance and he let the flames die, didn’t know whether to reach out or to give space. 

“I do come home”, he repeated. “I always have and forever will. For Roxane, but also for you. I’d come home for you too.”

“I don’t need you to”, she snapped back, tears in her eyes that she was too proud to shed and her arms crossed before her chest. 

“But if you wanted me to.” 

And that was, apparently, more than either of them could handle. Because Brianna could not hold back any longer and somehow he couldn’t either. So he found himself with his arms around her shoulder, while she hid her sobs against his chest. He knew it was just a beginning, as he stroked over her red hair in calming motions. They would need time and he did not expect her to forgive him just like that. Maybe he would never teach her a single thing. 

But he could. If she wanted to, he would do anything. 

When the week was over, Brianna left with a bundle of fresh herbs and a smile on her face that did not dim for the first time when her gaze shifted to Dustfinger. 

That night, he slept through, warmth in his heart. 

[rainbowsprinkledpirate]

Soldier Of My Past

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Male!Reader

Summary: Years go by, and nothing changes. You remain trapped under the remnants of HYDRA. Forced to do unthinkable things. And clean up after one particular Super Soldier. Which makes you wonder about him often. You had heard them call him the Winter Soldier. But you're not sure the name fits.

Chapter IV: Empty Blue Eyes

gif from thatscarletflycatcher, got it from google now it's here

Please, please don't.

I don't want to. I'm sorry.

I can't stop.

Whatever they put in my bloodstream turned me into a merciless monster.

It's like I'm trapped behind a glass wall. Watching everything happen yet being unable to stop my finger from pulling the trigger or swinging the blade.

Somebody... help.

I don't want to kill these people.

They haven't done anything wrong.

"Good job, soldier. Another problem was taken care of. But you're too slow, once again." Doctor Rot's voice never failed to solidify that glass wall.

"Maybe we'll use you for something else?" He leans forward. I could feel their blood staining my hands as he tapped the side of my head.

We'll make good use of you yet, little soldier.

- December, XX 1991 -

It took a while, but that glass wall is gone now. It has been for some time. Though that doesn't mean what I did has left my mind. All those people I killed.

The children.

Their screams keep me awake at night. Yet another thing added to a long list that reminds me why I can't give up.

Not yet.

After a while, they made me some other soldiers clean up guy. It became my job to make sure not a single piece of evidence was left that could be traced back to HYDRA.

Oddly enough, I was good at it.

Especially when I did well picking up after the Winter Soldier as he was called. But it's like I know every move he'll make. So, it's easy to clean up what he leaves behind.

This particular scene, however, was messier than the others.

I glance over the scuff marks that show where a body was dragged. They would hint that this wasn't a typical car accident. Alongside the tire tracks from the Winter Soldier's bike. And his footprints.

Every little thing would point out that these poor souls didn't die a normal death.

Which honestly would have been a mercy. If the muffled scream being abruptly cut off was anything to go by.

After a few seconds, the fire hissing from the smashed front end of the car became the only sound permeating the still air of the surrounding forest.

That and the slow, steady steps of the soldier.

He doesn't even spare me a glance as he moves back to his bike.

It was at times like this. Standing in the soldier's aftermath, I wanted to stop him. Just to ask why he went along with HYDRA's plans. Wasn't he strong enough to fight back?

But the glint of his metallic arm always warned me off.

That and the fact that he would kill any who got in the way of finishing his mission.

"Oh, James. What am I gonna do with this guy? The Winter Soldier, what kinda name is that anyway? Clearly, they don't know how to come up with good names."

Lately, I've found myself speaking aloud. When no one else but me and the Winter Soldier were around.

It helped to think James was somewhere listening to me. It soothed the screams I constantly heard.

And it wasn't like the soldier was going to tell anyone. From what I knew, he didn't speak.

At all.

Huffing, I notice the soldier pause. Every bone in my body locks in place when he slightly turns his head my way.

Shit, this is new.

Why the hell is he looking at me?

Is he going to kill me?

Doctor Borisyuk, who took over for Doctor Rot, wouldn't be too happy if he did.

But surely, he knew I was also part of HYDRA.

I did trail after him for nearly every mission he went on. Keeping an eye on him. And making sure his missions were a success.

Well, most of them.

There had been a point where things got messy when I tried to escape after learning Herr Schmit had been killed. They ended up locking me up and torturing me for a few days. But it wasn't anything new and I learned Doctor Zola lied about the explosive device planted in my head.

I examine the side of the soldier's face. Meeting the single empty blue eye that peered at me from over his shoulder for a split second. Before he focused back on the dirt road and took off.

The roar of his motorcycle cut through the stifling silence before fading away. Leaving nothing but the crackling fire in its place.

Weird.

But now wasn't the time for me to be worried about such. I have to clean up the scene and get out of here.

I sigh before making my way closer to the car. Inside were the bodies of Howard and Maria Stark. I never knew the man personally, but I remember seeing him and his first invention flop. It was a fond memory I held close.

Wordlessly I lean forward to rest my hand on Howard's shoulder.

"Find peace in the afterlife, friend." I glance at the woman next to him. A dull ache spread through my chest as I pull away from Howard.

If only I had died with James that day. Like these two who died together.

Shaking my head, I hiss, "Enough."

There's no point agonizing over the past. Focus on the here and now. Until HYDRA is completely wiped out, I can't stop.

Yet everywhere I look, there seems to be something to remind me of the past.

I glance at Howard again.

Focus. Damn it.

Not much information was passed around about these missions. Yet I made sure to keep myself updated as much as I could about the years they woke me up in. It let me clean up the scenes a bit better.

Scanning the surrounding area, I note the camera high up in one of the trees close to the scene. Or what remained of it.

When had he shot that?

Scoffing again, I make my way over to the tree. This was going to take a while. I knew I'd hear about it later.

- XX Hours Later -

"You're finally back," Doctor Borisyuk eyes me from his perch. "You have leaves in your hair."

It takes everything in me not to lunge forward.

This guy took after Doctor Rot a lot. From the unnerving grin to his unsympathetic eyes. Oddly enough, I didn't mind his presence as much as Doctor Rot.

Maybe it was because he let others do his dirty work? And I never saw him when they woke me up or put me to sleep.

The room around me stilled when fingers fluttered up to my hair. It was odd to have someone touch my hair so lightly after all this time. Especially when there was no ill intent behind it.

For a moment, all I could see were empty blue eyes before Doctor Borisyuk pulled back.

A single golden-brown leaf was held up between us.

"You should be more careful."

Or maybe it was for moments like this that I didn't mind him as much as Doctor Rot. With him being offhandedly kind.

That didn't stop me from wanting him and all the other HYDRA people dead.

"It would be a shame to lose someone like you. I rely on you a lot, you know?" He moved to hop back up on the desk. The taupe-colored wood contrasted starkly with his black uniform making him stand out more so than he already did.

"Go get some rest. You've earned it." He crossed one leg over the other. The stiff black boots he wore creaked with the movement.

"But do be back by oh four hundred hours, will you? There's no rest for the wicked, I'm afraid."

I bobbed my head towards him. Then make my way back into the long, desolate halls of HYDRA's headquarters. Empty blue eyes will haunt me for the rest of my life. Just like the cries of those people.

Next Chapter -> Here

Here <- Previous Chapter

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[whumpzone]

Linden & Colton - 19

(masterpost)

CW: references to noncon, Col fearing he'll be sexually abused, flashbacks, brief victim blaming, pet whump, dehumanisation

-

Linden’s phone buzzed again, and he knew exactly who it’d be before he even looked.

Sure enough, messages from his brother were crowding his phone screen. Vikram texted in small, frantic messages, that Linden found oddly funny.

lol fine knowing you you’ll never suggest a day

are you free tomorrow? I’ll come over for lunch or something

you know you miss me!!

Linden rolled his eyes, but truth be told, he did miss him. A new message appeared before he had the chance to start typing.

fine FINE I just want to see jaffa. you can die idc

That made him huff out a laugh, but he’d never give Vik the satisfaction of knowing that. Instead, he typed back:

Tomorrow is fine, don’t worry about bringing food. What are you doing now? Can you ring me? I have something to tell you before you visit.

Vik replied almost immediately.

yeah gimme 2 secs, who have you killed lol!

He checked around for Colton, but he was nowhere to be seen. Probably still working his way through the little chores and tasks Linden had given him, which meant he was either changing the roll of toilet paper in the bathroom (great for dexterity) or watering the balcony plants (providing plenty of fresh air and sunlight). Either way, he still positioned himself in the corner of the lounge, the furthest from his Pet’s ears.

He answered on the second ring. “Vik?”

“Hey, big man. You alright?”

“Yeah… yeah… I, um, I need to tell you something before you come over.”

“You sound tense, mate. What is it? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine it’s just- I have a Pet. Uh. Yeah.”

Vik didn’t miss a beat. “Are you serious? You, a Pet owner? Please.”

“I know, but there was this, this ad, in the paper, the council were talking about this random stray and they said if no one claimed him they were gonna put him down. They would have murdered him, Vik! And I don’t know. I just thought, fuck, no one else is gonna do anything are they. So I rang them up and they gave him to me for free.”

“Wow,” Vik said, a placeholder while he digested all of that. “So, how is he?”

“He’s alright, yeah. Only recently learned that he could speak. He’s still really really jumpy.”

“He’s scared of you, then,” Vik translated.

“Yeah. I don’t know how much of him you’ll see tomorrow. I’ll tell him it’s alright if he just stays in his room.”

“I can’t picture you as a Pet owner, even though you’re not a proper one.”

“Not a proper one as in I’m a good person with a soul?” Linden quipped. Vik snorted.

“Basically. Ew, it’s weird! He does whatever you say! But you’re just- you’re Linden. You’re my stupid baby brother. He should be telling you what to do.”

Linden smiled. Vik always put him at ease. Difficult topics seemed to flow off him like water off a duck. “Yeah, yeah it is kind of weird, I’m still getting used to it. But you see why I wanted to let you know beforehand.”

“Oh, yeah, totally,” he laughed. “Or else I might have thought he was burgling your house and I’d have asked to join in.”

“Oh, shut up. See you for lunch.”

“See you, Pet man!”

Linden felt the weight lift from his shoulders, but not entirely. Now he had to tell Col.

. . .

He had finished over ten minutes ago. Shiny drops of water still lingered on some of the wider leaves, not quite ready to drop into the moist soil below. But the balcony was too warm and sunny to resist, so Col was still kneeling there when he heard Master’s voice behind him.

He flinched hard at the sound, getting up quickly and ungraciously, tripping over his own feet as if he hadn’t just been caught lazing around.

Through the doorway, a perfect rectangle of light caught Master’s face, cutting down through one eye and turning his left cheek a tawny brown. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and leant forward slightly.

“Don’t worry about getting up, you’re fine, love. No, I don’t know if you heard, but I was just speaking to my brother Vikram over the phone. He’s going to visit tomorrow.”

Master was having a guest. Col nodded, but his mind went white. He suddenly felt like he wasn’t in control anymore. He was underwater, and Master’s voice barely faded through from above the surface.

“You can stay in your room, okay? You don’t have to come down and see him, if you don’t want to. There’s no pressure. I just wanted to let you know beforehand.”

The words flowed past his head, and whatever barriers had been pulled down over his mind kept them from making a dent. “Thank you, sir,” his body replied.

“Okay?” Master half-smiled. “Okay. Good stuff, Col. It’s a nice day- stay out on the balcony more, I know you like it there. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He nodded, but it must have been delayed, because he blinked and Master had left the room, as if he had never been there. Had Col dreamt it?

Turning around, the flowers were wet, so he had completed that task. He knew he had been ordered to stay, so he did, trying to keep the creeping dread from flooding him entirely.

But-

The next day-

It all came crashing down. His eyes snapped open and he was in his room, waiting, and then there was the click of the front door and Master was speaking, speaking with another voice- there was a man in the house-

Master only ever had guests when his Pet had been bad, and he was going to be taught a lesson, and that’s why he was told to wait in his room, that’s why he was prepped, maybe it was a small mercy. But he had been in such a state of denial, barely able to process the news, that he hadn’t done anything to make it hurt less.

All he knew was that he was on the floor in the corner, the furthest one from the bed, and his arms were wrapped around him as if that’d do anything to stop the onslaught. He knew they would just force his limbs apart and restrain them like that until they were done, and it didn’t matter whether he cried and begged. Sometimes they even enjoyed it more when he did. Once he had been lifted up by his throat and told to beg for his life, and it made everyone laugh, because look at it, it wants this, it’s begging for it.

The door handle turned and Col could see Master’s face. His eyes scanned the room briefly before they landed on Col, tucked away in the corner of the room. “Col? What is it?”

. . .

Hey, Col. Vik is here, just so you know, but again, no pressure to come downstairs. He knew what he would say, the tone he’d say it in, so he could hopefully make Col feel secure. But it all fell apart when he laid eyes on the Pet, curled up and trembling on the far side of the room.

“Col?” he said. “What is it?”

“You promised,” Col sobbed, utterly betrayed. Linden’s heart broke. “You promised you wouldn’t- wouldn’t- wouldn’t do that…”

“I won’t,” he said, understanding immediately and wanting more than anything to go over to Col and pull him into a hug. But he couldn’t. He knew that.

“You said you wouldn’t let anyone else,” he whispered, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes.

Then- the moment of vulnerability passed. Not that Col looked any less vulnerable. He was still hunched, small and weak, programmed to do whatever it took to make Linden happy. But he caught his tongue, and the mask slipped back on.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You can do- do what you want to me. Of course. I’m not, I don’t mean to question you, Master, I’m sorry, I know my place, I’m good, I promise I’m good.”

“You are, you’re really good.” He put a hand over his heart and kept it there. “I’m not going to come in, Vik isn’t going to come in. Neither of us are going to hurt you. I promised, and I’m sticking to it.”

Col was still sobbing, but it was more uneven breaths than actual tears. He couldn’t have spoken even if he wanted to with the way his lungs were pulling the rug from underneath him.

“For now, I think you might feel safer if I just left you alone, so I’ll go back downstairs, okay? And I won’t disturb you again. You just make sure you feel better, that’s all that matters. Don’t worry, Col. You’re safe.”

-

Vikram didn’t say anything as Linden returned, but he did raise his eyebrows. Linden just nodded, keeping quiet until he was sat back down and, hopefully, out of earshot.

“Poor thing,” said Linden. “He thinks, well- he just sees everything as a threat. I don’t know if he’s ever had a positive experience with another person before. At least not in his memory. Did you…”

He trailed off and Vik simply nodded. All humour was gone from his face; he knew when to leave it out, and when it would help. “Yeah, I heard a bit of it. Heard him crying.”

“I don’t want you to take it personally-“ Linden started, but Vik had already swatted at him.

“Oh, stop it. As if I would. But I am- I am happy I’m here, even though I’m sorry it’s scared him. You need someone too, Linden. Like, shit, this is a full time job.”

“You sound weird, being nice to me” he smiled weakly. Vik grinned back at him, in complete earnest.

“Well then, we can talk about something else, if you want. Something I can confidently mock you for. Where’s Jaffa, too?” he twisted around in his chair, searching for her. His floofed-up hair, hairsprayed to excess, bobbed around on the top of his head as he went. “Where’s my little main attraction?”

Soon Vik had Jaffa on his lap where he was brushing her absent-mindedly, listening to Linden talk about the latest book he had read.

“You are a fuckin’ hermit, dude.”

“And?” Linden pulled his best bored-looking face.

“Well… actually, yeah, stay indoors. Forcing you to come drinking with me would be at the rest of the pub’s expense.”

“You’re a bastard,” Linden laughed. “It’s you they should be worrying about, with that boulder of hair on your head. Look at the state of it, it crunches when you touch it.”

“The ladies love it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause they know if they get locked out they can use it to smash a window.”

. . .

Above them, Col listened. He couldn’t make out the words, but both men seemed happy and upbeat, excited about the night ahead of them, excited about the pliant little bitch waiting upstairs.

Before that, though-

Colton had been openly defiant. He had begged for it to stop before it had even started. He hadn’t taken an ounce of pain, nothing had earned him the right to plead for mercy. He had not only been insubordinate, but he had done it while Master had a guest. That kind of embarrassment would not go unpunished. Master would not have his authority undermined by some common stray.

Col desperately needed to apologise. He knew he shouldn’t just wait for his punishment like usual this time. This time he needed to right the balance. He would prove that he knew his place, and show Master’s guest that his rule here was absolute. So with shaking hands, he slowly creaked open the door, and went downstairs.

The laughter died as he came into view, and even the feeling of their eyes settling over his body made his skin prickle. For a split second, his feet locked in place, but as usual his fear pushed them onwards. He kept his head down, his arms behind his back, his shoulders hunched. As soon as he reached Master’s feet, he knelt. Forehead to the floor. Hands to his sides, ready to be stomped on or grabbed. He was a slave. He was always open for his Master’s use. He did not answer back and he did not question.

“Col, are you, are you sure you want to be here?” Master asked from above. He was very sure. But yes, of course, it was no use Col thinking these kinds of affirmations in his head. He had to make them clear.

“I’m here to apologise, sir, for daring to answer back and embarrassing you. Your Pet knows that he is owned completely and it was c-completely wrong to question you. I had no right to ask for mercy, I don’t deserve any. I’m a mindless Pet with no free will and I exist to serve you. P-Please, accept th-this apology. It won’t- won’t happen again.”

He stammered, towards the end. He could only hope Master wouldn’t get angry about it.

. . .

Ironically, it was now that Linden was embarrassed. He glanced over at Vik, and as the two brothers made eye contact, it was as if they had exchanged a whole conversation.

You see, see what I mean? See how he is?

Yeah, dude. It’s fucked up.

I’m sorry.

Don’t be. You’re doing your best to help him. I’m not embarrassed if you’re not.

He gently reached down to Col and rested a palm on top of his head. He jerked in surprise, a weak gasp escaping his lips, but he otherwise stayed perfectly still.

“Okay, love. Thank you. I’m not angry, okay? My brother is here and he always puts me in a good mood.”

He shot another glance at Vik, mouthing this is how I make him understand. Vik nodded. He was looking at Col curiously. Linden wondered if this was how he had pictured him.

“You didn’t embarrass me. You’re fine. I’m not going to hurt you. Vik doesn’t want to hurt you either. Why don’t you go and sit on the balcony, and I’ll sit with you later, and pet your head? You’re not in trouble.”

As he retracted his hand Col’s head tilted upwards, chasing the warmth of the touch. He kept his eyes low, but whispered, “Thank you, sir, thank you, thank you for having mercy. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Okay, you’re okay. Let me help you up.”

It was technically an order, and Col obeyed silently, offering no resistance as Linden slipped a hand over his elbow and pulled him to his feet. He smiled at Col, but his face was blank and resigned. Beyond fear. He had done what he could, and his fate was in Linden’s hands once more. It hurt to know that. Linden could decide to leash Col at any moment, torture him with knives and burning oil and belts, and Col wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Linden steered him to the base of the stairs, and then gently encouraged him upwards, until he had drifted out of sight entirely.

The house was silent. He turned back to Vik, but neither had to say anything. Linden already knew that he understood.

-

first half of the taglist!

@newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captainseconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonward @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @zipadeedooda-drabbles @penny-for-your-whump @briars7 @legallylibra @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread

@vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whump @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

[nik-the-bik]

Henriel Week Day 7: Alternate Ending

"The Fate of Your Soul"

Summary: A "What if Hyde didn't end up dead and Utterson spoke to him after finding everything out?" scenario

Last entry of Henriel week and I am once again thanking @corvidayyy for putting this together because I had too much fun planning these

****

Utterson squeezed the bridge of his nose as he fought off the pain and exhaustion of everything that had happened tonight.

Poole’s arrival, listening into Jekyll’s cabinet, breaking down the door, and the awful, terror infused screaming of Hyde pleading for mercy as the two charged in, pinning him to the ground as a vial of some substance clattered to the floor, the man writhing beneath them.

He didn’t think he would ever be able to escape the echoing shouts of “Not you! Not like this—please not you!” that had made his blood run cold as he called out to Bradshaw to summon the nearest policemen.

By the time the police arrived, Hyde had entered full hysteria, gasping sobs melting into unhinged laughter in a way that was overwhelmingly pitiful, if Utterson only but listened. To see the man struggle only tinged these feelings of pity with disgust. He did his best to keep his gaze averted.

And while his search of the cabinet hadn’t found Henry Jekyll, he did find the letters.

God, the letters. The information within them was all too much for his mind to process, and his head was hurting him worse than it had in years. When he had first finished Henry’s confessional, he had found himself sobbing—something that he probably hadn’t done in three decades. Too many conflicted feelings existed within him to make any sense of them, but as he composed himself with a hot cup of tea (with a healthy dose of bourbon mixed in), he brought himself to reading them a second and third time, desperate to understand.

After pouring through these pages, eyes burning from the strain of reading in the dim study, Utterson could understand nothing but a deep, deep ache in his very soul for the fate of poor old Harry Jekyll.

He pried himself out of his chair, desperate to do something—anything, but sit here for another moment with his thoughts. He turned to his coat and hat, still laying in a heap where he had tossed them after coming home, and prepared himself to step out into the brisk, dark air.

It was not long ‘til dawn when Utterson arrived at the precinct where they were holding Mr. Hyde.

After pacing the outside block a few times, Utterson finally steeled himself enough to enter the building where he almost immediately ran into a gentleman he recognized – the Newcomen who he had assisted during the Carew case. Thinking back to that time made his stomach turn anew.

“Ah, Mr. Utterson, good morning,” said Newcomen, looking tired himself. “I regret to inform you that there is no news yet of the whereabouts of Dr. Jekyll, but we have a full team dedicated to finding your man as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Inspector,” Gabriel muttered, peering around nervously. “But that’s not the only reason I’m here.”

“Oh?” Newcomen shifted, doing his best to hide his sudden burst of curiosity.

“I would like to meet with Edward Hyde.”

Newcomen laughed. “No need for that! We have everything under control with him, and before long his time before the gallows will be scheduled—”

“I insist, Inspector.”

Newcomen froze.

“I’d like to speak with him alone, sir,” Gabriel continued.

“-er---alone?”

“Why yes, of course. I’m acting as his legal counsel.”

“You—you—I'm -- sorry, what?” Newcomen was standing there, mouth agape, no longer showing any signs of fatigue. Gabriel, however, felt the exhaustion run deeper than it had before. He sighed, handed the officer his card, and asked to be shown into a private interrogation room.

As he sat in the small, cold, gray room, head in his hands, Utterson couldn’t decide whether he had made the correct choice in coming here or not. The endless ways this encounter could go were daunting, the wait unbearably long, and he suddenly found that he'd much rather be back home in front of the fire. Or in bed.

Utterson’s stomach sunk low at the sound of the door opening. Hyde was escorted in by a pair of officers, who forced him into a chair and chained his hands together and ankle to the leg of his chair. Utterson couldn't bear to watch—the whole proceeding making him nauseous. He kept his gaze on the floor as he waited for the policemen to finish. He gave a curt nod as they departed while they reminded him that they would be in the hall and at his full disposal if anything were needed.

When they were alone, Utterson finally let himself look directly at Hyde.

Before this night, Utterson had only ever seen Hyde on one other occasion. To see him now, it was almost difficult to say that it was the same man.

The Edward Hyde before him was a little taller, a little older, and much more pale and sickly than his previous self. There was also something much more feral about him, with the way that his eyes sharply dashed across the room, unnaturally tense and agitated. His body was tightly coiled inward, breathing shallow, like a snake preparing to strike. He could see his jaw working too, as though he was chewing his words before he allowed them to tumble out of his mouth.

“You, then?” was all that the creature before him managed to grunt out. His voice sounded much raspier too, raw from the screaming that had taken place earlier.

“Me.”

Another interlude of silence.

“Why are you here?”

“I would like some answers.”

“Answers to what?” Hyde asked, eyeing him suspiciously. The words were spit at Utterson like they were poison.

“I’ve read the letter. All of it. And Lanyon’s too.”

“You have?”

“Yes.”

“And yet you’re here?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know all. Henry Jekyll is gone. I can’t help you.”

“Are you sure, Harry?”

Hyde convulsed suddenly, looking as though he had been smacked. When he composed himself again, staring directly at Utterson, he seemed to soften, if only slightly. His eyes, darker than Henry’s, nonetheless held something in them that drew Utterson in.

“I’m quite sure. It’s a hopeless case. You’re pleading for a dead man,” Hyde answered, a little more gravity to his voice than the short, raspy whispers of before.

They stared at each other for another moment, Utterson desperate to find anything, anything at all that would connect the miserable creature before him to the man he used to regard as his dearest friend, his family, his—well—everything.

“Henry Jekyll was not one to abandon hope so quickly.”

Hyde laughed then, a sad, desperate cackle. “Really? Is that so? I guess you didn’t know him as well as you thought! You really think that after all this, after everything you’ve learned, that you even knew him at all? The Henry Jekyll you knew, the Henry Jekyll you WANT, is gone. In fact, he never existed. I’m all that’s left—the miserable, miserable testament to all his sin, his failure, and every twisted thing that he had always been all along. You’re wasting your time and mine, Utterson, and I have precious little of it left.”

Hyde shut his eyes then, turning his face away from Utterson, refusing to even look at him. Utterson was afraid that the pitiable hysteria of before—when they had found Hyde alone in Jekyll’s cabinet, would resurface. He could see that Hyde was restraining himself against some deep emotion.

Utterson brought his hand to his brow and groaned. It was too late, or early, and exhaustion was clutching him like a vice. He continued to watch Hyde, and that usual disgust that his presence typically inspired was beginning to wane, ever so slightly, the longer they sat with each other. Of course, he had to keep reminding himself who this man truly was in order to keep those feelings at bay.

Finally, “What are we going to do, Henry?”

Hyde sputtered. “We? I--”

“The eyewitness account doesn’t help us at all, and the fact that I had previously cooperated with the police to corroborate the testimony—”

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

“And it has been far too long since I’ve been involved in criminal law—”

“Utterson!” Hyde pleaded. Gabriel paused and brought his gaze back to Hyde. “You can’t, you can’t really be here to—”

“Have you forgotten my promise? I once promised Henry Jekyll that I would ensure Edward Hyde gets his rights, and that is exactly what I intend to do. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do anything to save you, but…”

Utterson trailed off. Hyde looked at him, dumbstruck. It was though he were finally considering the character of the man before him, and not instinctively assuming every man he faced was an enemy. Tears began to brim Hyde’s eyes again, and Utterson was on the verge of letting his own tears spill for the second time in over 30 years.

“Why are you doing this?” Hyde asked, voice trembling.

How to answer? There were so many things to say, lifetime's worth.

Utterson reached a hand across the table and grabbed hold of one of Hyde’s. The smaller man flinched and started to pull away but stopped himself. While it didn’t feel quite right to Utterson, it wasn’t the hand of Henry Jekyll, there was a bewildering comfort in it nonetheless.

“Because the fate of your soul is not sealed yet, but no matter where it goes, I refuse to let it go alone,” Utterson said.

The two sat there in silence, hands held tightly, as dawn broke in the cold London morning outside.

[astaroth1357]

The Obey Me Cast on a Camping Trip (Part One: Brothers)

Hey guys, thank you sooo much for getting me to 2,000 followers!! I honestly don’t know what to say... I never dreamed that this little hobby of mine would reach so many eyes, and I can’t be more grateful. At a time in my life where things feel so chaotic and uncertain, being a part of this community and sharing my weird ideas has been what’s kept me going. It’s been such a rewarding experience all around, so thank you. From the bottom of my heart. 😊

I pulled out all the stops for this post. I even brought out one of my favorite songs of all time: Ao to Natsu by Mrs. GREEN APPLE to get the feel juuust right. I hope you all enjoy it!

This post is split in two due to length (I had too much fun again...) For the Undateables, please click HERE!

Intro:

Another day, another team building activity between the demons and the exchange students. It was Diavolo’s idea to go on a camping trip to the human world (because of course it was), and there were very… mixed responses. That sentiment wasn’t helped when he refused Lucifer’s insistent pleas to just purchase cabins for everyone to stay in. Oh no, the Demon Lord wanted to rough it out in the wilderness, and now everyone else was getting dragged along with him…

Wonder how that turned out?

Lucifer

Really, really, really tried to push Diavolo to just rent out cabins in but noooo, he wasn’t having it... So he ended up driving a van crammed with his brothers, the MC, and a butt-ton of camping equipment into the Alaskan wilderness… 

The car ride itself was insufferable… We’re talking, “I SWEAR I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND!!” level of antics every 10 miles or so (mostly from Mammon)…

Setting up camp was even more of a nightmare because about half of his brothers were utterly useless. The other half (save Satan) were completely clueless… Had it not been for Barbatos and Satan he probably would have just resigned himself to the mercy of the river’s currents and let it take him away…

He couldn’t even wear his usual clothes because of the situation… For the first time in who knows how many centuries, he was stuck wearing jeans… Diavolo even bought him several plaid shirts... (which he was not happy with btw because his brother wouldn’t stop making fun of the “new” him)

He had his own tent of decent-size, enough to move around in but nothing to write home about. The very fact he didn’t have to share was a luxury in itself, so he took it for what it was worth...

He spent a good portion of the trip focused on two things: keeping Diavolo happy and everybody else alive. He rarely left camp unless forced to; he just wanted to get it all over with as soon as possible…

If he did leave, it was because Diavolo would drag him along to fish or hike. He was... less than pleased to be called out of his tent at the crack of dawn or well past dusk to sit on a little rented fishing boat with Diavolo… but he didn’t exactly pick his friends so...

He rates the trip Too Much Trouble/10. Let’s never do it again.

Mammon

Wasn’t a massive fan of being stuck out in the wild, but Satan told him some made-up bullshit about buried treasure out in the forest and got him HOOKED. He even borrowed stole a whole bunch of mining/digging equipment just for the occasion!

He spent most of the car ride asking, “Are we there yet??” like a child. The MC had to step in to keep Lucifer from leaving him on the side of the road at multiple points during the journey... 

He was one of the utterly useless ones when it came to setting up camp. Someone charged him with putting up the twin’s tent, and he spent thirty minutes reading (then re-reading) the instructions while shouting expletives. Poor Simeon had to shield Luke from the vulgarity…

He has to share a tent with Levi, which neither of them liked. Mammon mainly because of Levi’s “old fish stink” and Levi because he feared catching “Mammon’s stupid.”

He was all jazzed up to go digging from Day One, though. He’d have breakfast, grab his shovel, then wander out into the middle of nowhere to go dig holes in the ground…

He also got completely lost on Day One, and it took the MC summoning him with their pact to return him to the group... By that time, he was filthy and somehow looked like he had been castaway for days (even though he was gone for like, three hours?)

When he stubbornly refused to stop digging, Lucifer resorted to just tying a rope around his ankle and letting him loose. It was up to Mammon to get back to camp before dinner, or else Lucifer would yank him back like he was on a leash.

Satan waited until the last day to finally tell Mammon the treasure was bullshit, and he was PISSED. He even threw Satan into the river, which resulted in the rest of the brothers joining in for a swim while the two tried to “playfully” drown each other.

He’d rate this trip 0/10 because he didn’t get any buried treasure. What a ripoff…

Leviathan

Hated the idea with a burning, seething passion. There’s no internet, cable, electricity, or phone signal out in the middle of nowhere! How the heck is an otaku supposed to survive?!

He clung to his electronics during the car ride until either they ran out of signal or their battery died, then he didn’t know what to do with himself… He resorted to reading several volumes of the manga he stuffed into his bag and clung to the MC for emotional support…

Yet another useless soul trying to put the camp together. He was in charge of his and Mammon’s tent but ended up almost crying in frustration… How the hell do humans do this all on their own?? Wasn’t he supposed to be the third strongest?! Why is he so pathetic?!? 😫

Hates sharing a tent with Mammon because he always wakes up to the second born encroaching on his space somehow… Poor baby is pretty much directly against the tent wall and STILL has to deal with legs and elbows in his side... 😰

Spends the majority of the trip moping in the tent... If he goes out there, he has to deal with the sun, bugs, and people… No thanks. He only leaves for meals and occasionally to go swimming. 

When he found out part of the way through that Barbs brought portable solar panels and a battery pack for Diavolo and Lucifer’s phones, he was livid. He demanded access to the power source, which Lucifer refused because “It would defeat the purpose of this trip.”

He’d have summoned Lotan right then and there, deadass in the middle of the forest, if the MC hadn’t intervened. He then went back to moping, but now at the bottom of the lake and it took a lot of coaxing to get him back out…

On the final day, he was packing up the camp before anyone else even woke up. He wanted OUT and back to civilization ASAP. Bedroom here he comes!

Satan

You wouldn’t think of Satan as an outdoorsy guy. Still, he has shades of a survivalist in him (mostly because he’s read a lot of guides and was looking for an excuse to use them for a loooong time).

He read for the majority of the ride. He was squished between Asmo and Levi, which was reasonably peaceful. But he did end up shouting at Mammon quite a bit towards the end because “NO, we’re not there yet, peabrain!!”

He actually wasn’t a waste of space when setting up the camp, and between him, Barbs, and Lucifer, they were able to get a lot of stuff set up before sundown. He did have to bark a few orders to the others here and there, but overall competency won out in the end.

He shared a tent with Asmo, and the two made it work well enough… Except when Asmo did things like spraying his perfumes and dry shampoos, making it practically impossible to breathe in for a few minutes…

Spent a lot of the first few days reinforcing the camp to a ridiculous degree.

Did he have to collect large branches to build an exterior fence around the campsite? No. But he did.

Did he have to set up a water distillation system using some of the materials Barbs had lying around the “kitchen?” No. But he did.

Did he have to weave a series of fishing nets to catch them lunch from the lake and river? I think you get the point by now.

Only once he built pretty much every contraption or improvement he could think of, did he go back to just reading and relaxing by the fire.

By the time the group was ready to leave, Satan had somehow managed to craft them a veritable, self-sustaining fortress in the middle of the Alaskan wilds…

Overall he would rate the trip as… meh. Next time give him a challenge like a deserted island or an actual desert, and then he’ll really see what he can do.

Asmodeus

Was about as unhappy with the idea as Levi was… It wasn’t that he disliked the outdoors per se, it was just that no one, NO ONE, pulls off looking flawless after several days stuck in a tent!

He chatted the entire car ride from start to finish. He never stopped talking. It made for decent background noise at least…

Was one of the more clueless ones when trying to set up camp and pretty just did what he was ordered. The second he was left to try and figure something out on his own, he went to Lucifer or Satan for help because NOPE. Human equipment is needlessly complicated sometimes…

He had to share a tent with Satan, which in theory shouldn’t have been that bad, but Satan was out basically all day in the sun doing who knows what and would always come back sweaty and gross! At some points, he had to chase his brother out of the tent until he dunked himself in the river or something. No way was Asmo sleeping next to that. 😤

Asmo took the second-longest to get up and get ready in the morning. Sometimes he wouldn’t even leave the tent until well past breakfast just in an attempt to salvage his hair and skin… He only got grouchier about it as the trip went on… 😥

A more… earthy looking Asmo is kind of a bizarre sight. He’s still attractive, no doubt, but it’s less like polished glamour and more like Hollywood humble. He spent the majority of the trip looking like a somewhat dirtied movie-star (which he still insisted was the worst he’s ever looked in ages).

Aside from salvaging his looks, he actually enjoyed taking pictures of their surroundings or of the group (but not himself). He sometimes forgot how genuinely breathtaking the human world could be…

….but his patience for the place wore out quickly once he started noticing his hair getting greasy. He was right next to Levi, packing up the site once it was finally time to leave. At least those two finally found something they could agree on, let’s get the fuck out already! 

Beelzebub

He was really curious about trying camping food and pretty excited that Barbatos was coming, too (because that meant great food in general).

Unfortunately, Lucifer had to stop the van at basically every gas station they passed for Beel could refill on snacks… Belphie ended up getting buried in wrappers pretty often, but he was asleep, so it didn’t matter much.

Beel did a lot of the heavy lifting when setting the camp up, but the finer details were left up to everybody else. He had his hands full getting stuff off the cars as is…

Of course, he shared a tent with Belphie, and there wasn’t much complaint between them. Honestly, there would have been more drama if they were split, so this was the better option.

After the MC told Beel about fishing and how it could net him more food, if he did it right, he knew exactly what he wanted to do during the trip.

… But no one told him how long and slow the process would be. There were points he’d get so hungry he’d consider eating the bait himself…

That was until about Day Three of the trip when they passed by a river full of grizzly bears… He was about to ask the MC why the bears were all standing in the water, but then he saw a fish practically leap directly into one’s mouth…

Beel had discovered his true calling.

Of course, the grizzlies didn’t take too kindly to a demon suddenly sprinting into the water with them. They tried to fight him off, but Beel just tossed most of them downstream without any issue until they realized who the apex predator really was…

After forming a shaky truce with the bears, Beel would stand in the water for hours then come back with whole baskets full of salmon… There were far more fish than Barbatos knew what to do with, so he’d just confiscate a few then let Beel eat the rest...

The MC shuddered to think about what Beel had done to the local salmon population… But he was full and happy for most of the trip, so he had a great time!

Belphegor

Sleep for him isn’t too contingent on location, so the idea of camping wasn’t terrible. It did sound like a lot of hassle for no good reason, though…

He spent the entire car ride asleep, head and cow pillow pressed up against the window and everything. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but he’d dealt with worse.

He was utterly useless when putting up the camp by choice, thank you. He had more than enough sense to get things put together; he just didn’t want to. If he wasn’t asked to do something by Beel or the MC, he’d just lay back in the grass and smugly watch everybody else struggle…

Again, he and Beel are in the same tent, and you wouldn’t hear any complaints out of him. He did start to have some second thoughts when Beel began getting a fishy smell, though, so he tried to bunk with the MC in their tent for a while.

Like Levi, Belphie didn’t leave the tent much during the daylight hours, but that was because he was still asleep… There was no good way to wake him with no alarms available, so he’d sleep in past lunch easily.

When he was awake, he didn’t leave camp very much except to walk with the MC or watch Beel fishing grizzly-style.

Eventually, Asmo and Diavolo got sick of him dodging their photos, so they’d started posing him Weekend at Bernie’s style around the camp (always conveniently propped up by something and with sunglasses on)

Something Belphie did like, however, was the nighttime. Since there were no lights around, he could practically see everything the sky had to offer. He could spend hours laying on his back long after everyone else had gone to bed just admiring the stars.

All in all, not a terrible trip. Anything that could give him that view like that was well worth it. 6/10, would sleep again.

Click HERE for Part Two. Check out my Masterlist for more!

[xoxo-teddybear]

He’s Lost - Bakugou Katsuki - Part 4

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, daddy kink, m!receiving, alcohol mentions, Cursing, fluff

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Summary: After 2 months of hard work and bonding, Bakugou was finally able to get his teddy bear back and he’s never been happier

A/N: Since there was no more room for me to write in part 3, here’s part 4, which is more of just a continuation of part 3 so but it’s still a closing chapter. You know? Yea, you know. Anyways, enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

When he finally reached you, he took notice of your eyes shut in relaxation. He used his fingers to tilt your head upwards to meet his eyes as you slowly open yours with a smirk. He leaned in and asked you,

“You know what comes next, right Teddy Bear?

“Maybe I do. Maybe I’m waiting for Blasty to do something first.” You said as you smiled and your seductive gaze traveled from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes. Bakugou took that as an invitation and dove right in.

As soon as his lips met yours, he felt a spark reignite in him, and he was sure you felt it too. The love you both had for one another was being delivered through this simple connection, and you both enjoyed every second of it. The way his warm lips pressed against yours made butterflies appear in your stomach. Soon his hand reached around, squeezing your ass, earning a gasp from you. He quickly took the opportunity to slide his tongue in and explore every crevasse.

The way his tongue glided across yours was as addictive as any drug. It was definitely something you could get used to. As the kiss grew stronger, and your breaths got heavier, both your hands began to roam each other. His hands grabbed and groped your body in every way possible. Fondling your breast so gently, and squeezing on your round peach. He let his hand go down to your thighs but not before letting his palm “accidentally” glide over your aching cunt. With that, you released a high pitch moan and your hands journied from his hair to his neck, all the way to his abs until a thought came into mind. As you smiled into the kiss, you dragged your hands past his abs down to his friend. You slowly took his large length into your hands and tightened your hold on it, releasing a moan from Katsuki.

As you began to jerk him off, his head fell onto your shoulders and he back you up into a corner while still holding onto you.

“What’s wrong...Suki?” You deviously smiled.

“Mm...F-Fuck.” Katsuki’s breath’s grew more ragged and he sounded so desperate for release. You could tell he was too. He was thrusting his hips forward and back, basically fucking your hand. He was so close to cumming until you pulled away.

“What the fuck, princess?!” He exclaimed.

“Awww, is daddy mad he didn’t get to cum?” You teased.

“Daddy’s a little more than mad princess,” he said as his eyes grew dark. With that look on his face, you just knew you had to push it even further.

“Then do something about it...Bakugou.” You purred.

Ohhh..you were fucked. Simple as that. You have all these choices ranging from Blasty to Suki to even Daddy, and you chose that name. Big mistake.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to you damn brat?” He growled in your face.

“I know exactly who I’m talking to Bakugou.” Ohh, you said it again. May the gods have mercy on Y/N’s poor soul.

Before you knew it Bakugou was seated on the ledge and your face was being pulled up to his. His hand wrapped around your cheeks and held onto your jaw to pull you up so he could whisper in your ear.

“You got the wrong name on your tongue, princess. But don’t worry. Daddy’s gonna make sure you know exactly who you’re dealing with.” He said as he used his other hand to smack your ass. Hard. And you enjoyed the pain and even moaned for more.

“Awww, you want me to smack your ass some more?” Bakugou chuckled at you. “Brats don’t get rewarded, they get punished.” He pulled at your hair and tugged it back so he could get a clear view of your neck. He kissed at it and sucked your skin till a small purple hickey appeared. He gave the marking a quick kiss before saying,

“If you want your reward, you’ll call me daddy and suck my dick real good like a good little girl.” He softly said. This got you riled up and he could tell. “You seem excited. You wanna taste my cock?”

“Yes Daddy~” You desperately and said with a whine to your voice.

“Then do it. Suck my dick real nice for me princess and I promise you’ll get your reward.” He said as he kissed your forehead.

You bent down to take his member into your hands and Bakugou watched every second of this. He watched as you gave his red angry tip a kiss before licking at the precum that covered it. Your little kitten licks were only teasing him though, he needed the real deal.

When you opened your mouth and sucked at his tip, he sucked at his teeth and released a sigh. As you swirled your tongue around the top, you swallowed more of him. You pressed down until your nose his pelvis. You moaned around his cock and Bakugou gasped.

“Ah! Oh god..” he breathed out.

Your hand came up to grab his balls and play with them in your hand. You began to bob your head up and down in a consistent motion giving Bakugou chills that ran up his spine.

“S-hit princess..yess..” you felt his hand grab onto your hair and pull you back before pushing you back down. He was controlling the pace now and god was it fast. As you chocked on his dick, this only made his lust grow. You could hear his wanton moans and curses from above, and then you felt him stand up in shallow end of the water.

He was fucking your face now, thrusting in and out of your mouth. You moaned and gagged around his cock and Bakugou cried out in so much pleasure.

“F-fuck! Shit baby..you sucking daddy’s dick real good...ohh fuuckk,” you felt him give a little smack to your face while you continued to suck him off. “You like that? Huh? You like how daddy fucks your face, princess? God you’re doing amazing.” He moaned out.

He sped up until you could feel his dick twitch in your mouth.

“Ohh s-shit, you feel that? Ahh..Daddy’s gonna come in your mouth...you want that? You wanna swallow my kids? F-Fuck, c’mon..mm, I want you to show me princess..” You replied with a moan. You were so desperate to taste him. He fucked your mouth some more until he finally shuttered and released on your tongue. He filled your mouth with his salty, sweet almost caramel like cum and you savored every drop. You swallowed it all, happily, and opened your mouth to show him.

“Good girl.” Katsuki said before tilting your head and giving you a wet kiss. He then fell into the fresh and crystal clear water with you, and pushed you against the side of the pool wall.

“You ready princess?” He said with a smile.

“W-wait what? But you didn’t even-“ he cut you off.

“I know. No prep for you teddy bear. This is part of your punishment. You’re gonna take daddy’s giant cock just the way you are.” He explained. Now you were nervous. Katsuki was huge and long. Is it even safe for you to take his massive cock without prep? Only one way to find out.

He lifted your leg and pressed his tip against your pussy, then he spoke, “You’re gonna take me so good princess. Im gonna make you feel so good. I’m gonna show you all my love.” He ended each sentence with a kiss to your neck or cheek before asking.

“Can you take it princess?” You knew this wasn’t part of his pillow talk. He was genuinely asking if you were willing to take him without prep. You were ready.

“Give it to me daddy.” You proudly said. And with that, he slowly pushed in. Loud moans mixed of slight pain and pleasure came over you. Bakugou was always big, but having to take him without any preparation made you realize just how huge he was.

“Mm!...Suki!..” he kissed your face all over, trying to distract you.

“It’s ok, it’ll go away soon.” He reassured you as he pushed in deeper. When he was fully submerged, you both released a gasp. He waited a minute to let you adjust before looking at you for permission to move.

“Please..ah!..I want it so bad~” you begged. With your permission, he slowly started. He pulled in and out of you with deep strokes, earning soft moans from you. He rested his forehead against yours as he continue his thrust. He then spoke.

“I love you Y/N. I want you to know exactly how I much I do,” he said each word covered in love.

“I know you do Suki...I love you too.” You both shared a loving kiss along with the slow strokes of Katsuki’s dick.

“Mm...Suki...p-please...more!” You said in between kisses. Katsuki smirked at your request.

“You sure princess?” He said while speeding up, “you sure you can handle all of it?”

“Ahh! Yes, please daddy!” You begged.

“Ok teddy bear...ohh fuck..daddy’s gonna give it to you.” With that he picked up both of your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He had you pressed up against the pool’s wall and fucked you into tomorrow. The speed was driving you crazy, the way his tip reached your cervix and the strength of his thrust were receiving loud moans from you.

The water around you was splashing around as your grip around his neck grew tighter.

“Ohh..fuck.. YES! Oh my god..Katsuki!” You cried out.

His hands smacked against your ass as he spoke. “Ohh god, you like that princess? Fuck, this dick feel good?” He asked, speeding up even more.

You threw your head back and cried out even more. Katsuki attacked your neck as he continued his dirty talk.

“Mm...s-shit. You’re mine. You understand?” He said as he smack your ass again. “Mine only. Mine to hold, have, love and fuck.” He accentuated the last word with a sharp thrust that made you scream.

“M-More! More daddy please!” You asked. As Katsuki continued to thrust, he grabbed your legs and placed them atop his shoulders, allowing him to hit a deeper angle and more sensitive spot.

“Ahh! .....ohh yess~” you moaned. Katsuki groaned at the new position. “F-Fuck! Ohh god..your Pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock...damn baby.” He moaned out.

With his fast pace still going, your legs began shaking as a sign of a euphoric release coming.

“Oh my god! Yess...D-Daddy!” You cried out.

“You gonna cum princess?” His thrust became sloppy, signaling he was close too. “You gonna come on this cock?”

“Y-Yes! Yes daddy, let me cum..” you whined as he started to fuck you deeper.

“Ohh fuck... then do it..yeah baby, cum on my cock!”

With his permission, you released your cum and cried out in ecstasy. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm until he reached his, and filled you up.

He released a loud moan as he slowly fucked his cum into you. The once crystal clear water was now a milky color thanks to the cream pie and Bakugou released a sigh. As you both came down from the high, you relaxed in each other’s arms. After a minute, he pulled out of you and saw as more cum flowed in the water.

He chuckled a little, and picked you up princess style and swam to the middle of the watering hole, where it was clear of cum. Just floating there and holding you in his arms with your head against his chest. With the beautiful scenery around you, you both agreed. This was heaven. Bakugou just slowly hummed a tune to himself and you listened to his deep, sultry voice as you let your eyes rest.

“Katsuki?”

“Yes princess?” He asked you.

You laughed a little before saying to him, “I really, really, really, really, really love you....a lot.” Bakugou opened his eyes and smiled even more at the familiar declaration of love. He was finally complete. He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.

“I love you too Teddy Bear.”

——————————————————————————

After spending some more time in the cave, you both decided to get dressed and head back to the beach. As Bakugou drove, you both noticed how the sun was rising. Had you guys really been at the beach all night? Wow. Whatever though, this trip was worth it. Bakugou’s hand was on your thigh as he drove off and you rested your head on the window and placed your hand on top of his. As he halted the car at a stop sign, he turned and saw how the sun’s golden rays glowed against your skin. Gosh, you were absolutely gorgeous. He was completely in love.

When he pulled up to the beach, you both walked with his arm wrapped around your waist holding you close. You guys made it back as the sky was still a gorgeous gold and purple mix, and a golden hour was beaming on the beach. Since you both still wore your bathing suits, there was nothing covering up your love marks. You walked up to your friends and saw the group had succumbed to Denki’s wishes and sang the campfire song.

“BUM-BUM-BUUU- woah.” Denki said as he took notice of yours and Bakugou’s neck. The group turned and saw Bakugou with his hold on you...and the hickies covering both of your necks.

“Ahh, so you two love birds took my advice?” Mina said with a cocky smirk. You both smiled and blushed as you looked at each other.

“Soo..you guys are back together?” Sero asked.

“Obviously you idiots,” Bakugou said.

“The hell you mean ‘obvious?’ You two have been marking each other up for the past month! It’s kinda hard to tell with you two, ok?!” Sero exclaimed. Everyone laughed and Kirishima jumped for joy.

“All that fucking suffering in my room, all that sleeping on the couch. Bakugou, you’re so fucking lucky she accepted you back ‘cuz if she didn’t, I don’t think I would’ve been able to take care of another depressed Bakugou. All that bullshit wasn’t manly at all” The red head cried out fake tears. The group gave a smile and small laugh as Bakugou and Y/N took their seats.

Before Y/N could reach her seat, a clearly touch starved Bakugou dragged her into his lap. That was her new seat.

“Suki?” You questioned.

“I was left touch starved for a month. Let me have this, princess.” He so casually explained as his chin rested on your shoulder.

The squad let out “awww’s” and squeals at the cute interaction. Y/N got comfortable on his lap as Mina went around passing beers to everyone around the bondfire.

“Cheers to the happy couple!” Mina cheered on.

“Cheers to no more sneaky links!” Sero said.

“Cheers to no more sad Kacchan!” Denki joyously spoke.

“Cheers to no more couch sleeping and care taking!” Kirishima cried out again.

“Cheers to us no longer being lost, Y/N.” Bakugou calmly added on.

“Cheers to us, Suki.” You said with love and admiration. Everyone raised their bottles to the sky and you and Bakugou clinked your glasses before taking a sip and sharing a quick peck.

——————————————————————————

When you guys packed up and decided to head back to Musutafu, in the same seats as before, the group all fell asleep. Well, except for the two up front. Bakugou and you were sitting hand in hand as he drove and you navigated.

Now the shining sun was fully up and the blue sky was absolutely perfect. Mina was right, this trip was exactly what you guys needed. Denki’s phone that was connected to the Bluetooth played all the newest and trending songs at a low volume. It made for perfect background noise. A small smile could be seen on both yours and bakugou’s lips.

This was the happiest he’s been in awhile. All peace and love. His girl right next to him once again. He had everything he ever really needed. As he drove home, he knew everything would be amazing from now on, because as he was going down the road, he had you to help him, and keep him from getting lost once again.

A/N: Sorry if the ending seems a little rush, I’m still in class and I made this last part all throughout my first 4 periods and lunch break. I really hope you bear Cubs enjoyed this short story. Props to you if you know about Spongebob’s campfire song! Also, I got the inspiration for the first car scene (in part 3) from a tik tok! I’m pretty sure it’s from a TV show, but I wouldn’t know which one. Sorry! I still can’t believe what was meant to be a simple oneshot turned out to be my first full story on tumblr! I love and appreciate you all so damn much! The positive feedback is so incredible and I’m so glad the lot of you stayed along for the journey and growth of this story. I hope you enjoyed reading bear Cubs! Thanks for the love! 💗🧸

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23​ for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it. 

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues.  Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place. 

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

                                                    ~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back.   A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

                                                     ~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

tag list: @spidey-pal​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @stassaurus​​, @peachlle​, @livvtheangel​, @myjbphase​, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest​, @vxxn128​, @keithseabrook27​, @spaghettirogers​​, @writingstudent​​, @hp-hogwartsexpress , @eggingamazinglove​, @geeksareunique​, @cailoleaf​, @simonsbluee​ , @hereforsmutandfluff​, @starxtt​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @staygold-bebold​, @marvelschriss​, @captivatedbycillianmurphy​

[2-cute-4-school]

NCT Dream reaction to you getting your wisdom teeth removed

Mark

babysitting the dreamies is part of his daily job so he thinks ‘how hard can it be to take care of you for a few hours pffft’

he’s never regretted underestimating you so bad in his entire life ◑.◑

you’re not just a nightmare

you’re THE ULTIMATE NIGHTMARE

he was so embarrassed when he had to gently drag you out of the dentist’s office while you were crying cuz

“mY TOOTH!! mark, i lost my tooth, what am i gonna do?!?! i should have put a leash on it, i knew it!!!! now it’s gone and it’s all my fault!!!!” (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

*ugly sobbing* *mark awkwardly patting your back while pulling you away from the scrutinizing glares of a few karens in the waiting room*

“mark. i didn’t even get to name it!!!”

poor bby cheetah mark is SO lost

“baby, hey, don’t cry! we’ll uh…. i’ll get you a new one!” ヾ(ﾟДﾟ;ヾ)

you look up with your glassy eyes and your right cheek chubbier than your left from the cotton lodged where your tooth used to be, your bottom lip trembling oh so cutely 

and mark just…stops functioning for a moment because

‘HOW CAN ANYONE BE SO CUTE BUT SUCH A PAIN IN THE ASS AT THE SAME TIME IT’S NOT FAIR !!??!?!?’

“ rweally? would you really do that for me, markie?” (◞‸◟；)

“ASFKSFRDACGCS YES LOML ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING JUST SAY THE WORD AND I’LL BRING THE MOON TO YOUR FEET YOU PRECIOUS LIL BABY” ⊂（♡��♡）⊃

 and he still insists he’s not 120% whipped for you can you believe it

he ends up piggybacking you all the way back home because your giggles were just too cute for him to resist so he can’t even get tired with how happy he is to witness you so carefree and joyful

and his heart just melts when you leave a huuuge kith with the loudest *MWAH* ever on his cheek and you nuzzle your nose in the crook of his neck that’s like the fatal combination of cute acts ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)

in conclusion : this man just adores you with every bit of his heart :((((

Renjun

probably asked kun to pick you both up from the dentist 

you’re just too much for him smh

you’re cute and all but renjun is a tired uncle

so you’re both in the backseat with kun as your driver and it’s silent

renjun just knows something is wrong there’s no way you’re so calm 

but you’re just staring at him like ◎_◎

“uh..babe, you alright?”

silence and then *GASP*

renjun just knows he’s about to facepalm himself into another dimension when you grip his cheeks in both hands

“you’re a fAIRY!!!!!!!” (*ﾟﾛﾟ)

*sigh* *muffled words* “y/n let’s calm down and just-”

he doesn’t get another word out before you shove his face in your lap and literally raise his shirt up to the nape of his neck

damn beach you know what you want huh go off

“where are they???!!?!?! where are you hiding them you impostor??!!!?”

and then you start slapping his back

“ow ow OW, Y/N WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? STOP !!”

“YOUR WINGS!!! WHERE ARE YOUR FRICKIN’ WINGS ?!?!?” (╬ Ò ‸ Ó)

renjun is this 👌 close to knocking you out for good with a karate chop

so he just pushes you off and straps you to your seat with a second safety belt as he huffs under his breath

“i can’t guarantee you’ll live to see next week” (⊙_◎)

kun watching in the rear mirror like （͡°͜ʖ͡°）

“you know what? i’d really eat some chicken wings right now!! jun, let’s go get chicken wings!!!” ⊂((・▽・))⊃

he’s surprised you even remember his name

but you eventually exhaust yourself and pass out in the backseat of the car so renjun and kun drag you to bed 

and renjun just tucks you in like the soft loving boyfriend that he is

and he just stares at you fondly and smooches you all over your face cuz

“how tf can you be so cute, you lil overexcited evil? you’re like the cutest thing in the world and it just!!!not!!!fair!!!!!” (♡ ‸ ♡ )

so even though he complains about you a lot, he’d sell his kidney just to see his lil cute bub happy i’m so soft :((((

Lee Jeno

“let’s go to the playground!!”

“y/n, no, let’s go home and put some ice on that cheek”

“but baaaabe i wanna go one the swing” ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )

“then we’ll have to ice both cheeks”

“what did ya say???!!?!”

so jeno’s headache only worsened once you both arrived home with no prior stop to the playground

and as much as he loves you he also wants to bang his head against a wall and end his suffering yay o((*^▽^*))o

“just stay still for a second please, i’m really trying to tie this thing properly around your head”

you’re just so restless and jeno is just so done

“does it hurt?”

“ywes, my heart hurts because my own boyfriend doesn’t love me!!!”

“y/n, we already had this conversation, now just-”

“i just wanted a swing!!!” *bursts into tears* *jeno sighs half of his soul out* ଽ (৺ੋ ௦ ৺ੋ )৴

so jeno sits down beside you and pulls you into his lap gently, rocking you back and forth in an attempt to soothe your sobs jeno best boyfriend no cap

“there there, baby, we can’t go out-” *sobs intensify* “BUT i promise i’ll get you a swing right here if you let me take care of you first”

you leech yourself onto jeno’s sleeve and wipe your tears on his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind the wet patch left on the material as he watches you with that soft look of his (´-ω-`)

so you let him patch you up after his reassurance and after he just pats your head affectionately and motions for you to stand up

and this man just flexes his arms and nudges you to latch on

that’s how jeno ends up with a squealing you as you swing back and forth with your fingers gripping his arm ╰(✧∇✧╰)

Lee Haechan

you want to pretty him up

because “since my left cheek looks like it’s stuffed with a tennis ball, i can’t carry the visuals in this relationship for a while, so i need to hand the responsibility over to you”

“who even said you’re the one carrying the visuals” ℃ↂ_ↂ

“oh honey you’re only now realizing?”

(╬☉д⊙)⊰⊹ฺ

he blames the anesthesia for your severe accusations

but the only way to shut you up is give in to your wishes

so that’s how he found himself seated down on the carpet of your home with your legs draped over his and your totally professional make up applied over his face

“i look like a clown”

“not even make up can cover your true identity, hyuck”

deep breaths, donghyuck, in and out, take it easy (◎ω◎*)

“any preferences for the nail polish color?”

“to match my soul”

“so hot pink” o(≧∇≦o)

*poker face* “you know i could obliviate you if i wanted to clown you”

*pout that hurts hyuck’s lil heart* “but you wouldn’t do that to your hurting baby, would you” *blinks rapidly with puppy eyes*

“you bet i would” (no he wouldn’t you’re just too cute and he loves you too much) *totally not whipped (♥ω♥*)*

painting his nails is the hugest struggle in your entire life

“WHY TF ARE THEY SO SHORT, ARE THEY TAKING AFTER YOU”

on second thought, mercy is no longer available for you

“hyuck, you should tape your fingers so you won’t bite your nails like a preschooler anymore”

“i’ll tape your mouth shut, that’s what i’ll tape” *_*

“hUH???!?!!?”  (*ﾟﾛﾟ)

Na Jaemin

“okay jisung is an easy task compared to you right now”

even though this man is used to being the mom of the group

he’s still most likely in disbelief watching his otherwise angel flap around like a headless chicken 

but you’re even cutter with your swollen cheek so he forgives you (︶▽︶)

“hey, jaem, did you know i’m closely related to snails??”

“entertain me” (∩_∩)

“they can sleep for years at once. that’s like my main talent.”

“it would be great for me if you’d put this talent of yours to work now”

jaemin ends up sprawled over the couch and watching dramas like a tired mom of 3 hyperactive children with you curled up at his side playing games on his phone

*hiccup*

jaemin’s brain before he even registered the sound : something’s wrong

“y/n baby?” (｡•́︿•̀｡)

*hiccup* *sniffle* *hiccup* 

jaemin’s overprotective instincts kicked in ಠ╭╮ಠ

he knocks the phone out of the way and swings your legs over his lap to cradle you against his chest and hush you with the gentlest coos while rubbing your back up and down softly

“what happened, my love? does it hurt? tell nana what’s wrong and he’ll get rid in a second of what dared hurt his precious baby” just imagine this man this would be like the peak of my life  🥺

so in between your boyfriend’s comforting whispers and your harsh breaths of air you managed to let out a few words

“e-elephants, nana”

he already knows the biggest facepalm is coming his way -_-

“tHEy CAn’T jUmP, tHE poOR ELephANTs”

(ノ-_-)ノ~┻━┻

he just sighs and continues rocking you in his arms until you doze off, slumped on his chest, your head cushioned by his shoulder

he softly shakes his head at you and lays a butterfly kiss on your forehead

“i would make elephants jump just for you, my cute big baby” ♡♡(￫ε￩*)

Zhong Chenle

he halfway panics at the way you act

you’re usually the one who takes care of him so your childish act that surfaced because of the anesthesia took him by surprise

“dude they brainwashed y/n” (ﾉ｀□´)ﾉ

once you start babbling to him about the end of the rainbow and the elf that awaits there with a pot full of golden coins he knew you lost it

calls renjun

“hyung i’m sorry for saying you’re batshit crazy with your conspiracies, but aliens kidnapped y/n”

*muffled voices on the other side*

“NO, I’M NOT DRUNK!! they brainwashed y/n or even worse… returned a cheap copy of them”

renjun probably just tells him to put you to sleep and advises chenle to do the same with himself -_-

so chenle just approaches you very carefully, his voice barely above a whisper

“hey, babe, aren’t you tired?”

“actually no, how about a walk in the park???”

“idk y/n, it doesn’t seem like the best idea”

“PLEASE”  🥺

“THIS IS THE BEST IDEA OF THE YEAR BABY!!!11!!”

this man is royally whipped for you so he takes you to the nearest park and keeps a careful watch on you as you bend down to pet every dog that passes by ⊂((・▽・))⊃

while he would do anything for you, he’s very panicky about your safety so he has to hold your hand the entire time and you’re not allowed to leave his side for even a second overprotective boyfriend check

mid walk you take a break on a bench and you lean your head on cheble’s shoulder before muttering sleepily

“lele, i’m tired, imma take a nap”

“are you serious rn” (ಠ_ಠ)

but you’re already a goner and chenle is left fuming by himself

despite his annoyance he still adjusts you so he can piggyback you home and hums songs softly every time you stir (灬♥ω♥灬)

you’ll have to baby him an entire week to pay him back

Park Jisung

this boy is actually quite pleased

because for once he can take care of you and not the other way around without any complaints coming from you

so you both end up curled into each other under a blanket while watching the Frozen movies :((((((((

and for once he ends up watching you more than he watches the movie because you’re so cute reciting all of Olaf’s lines ꒰˘̩̩̩⌣˘̩̩̩๑꒱

but the fun can only last for so long

and when your mouth starts feeling ‘funny’ jisung’s mind goes haywire

“sung, i’m gonna die”

panic panic PANIC (ｼ;ﾟДﾟ)ｼ

“they poisoned you didn’t they??? i knew it!! i knew dentists are evil, how am i gonna explain i let crazy doctors perform dark magic on you???!!?!?” no offense to dentists y’all are life savers

so you have at least 2 ice packs and a bag of frozen peas clutched against your cheek and you swear you’re about to die from frostbite rather than the weird feeling coming from your teeth 

and then jisung wraps you in a mountain of blankets cuz ‘we can’t have you catching a cold now too’ as if sweating your ass off is gonna fight off the numbing cold on your face  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

but babie is confused a tad lot bit scared for both his and your life

and you’re kinda very dazed so comforting him isn’t really in your agenda

he probably worries within an inch of his life ヾ( ๑´д`๑)ﾂ

too afraid to let you fall asleep just in case

so every time you doz off sweet cutie jisung just kithes you (๑°꒵°๑)･*♡

and you wake up just to kiss back your cute boyfriend

and he just chuckles and blows raspberries on your neck man jisung would be such a cute whipped boyfriend

but he ends up asleep next to you with his face buried in your hair and arms tightly wrapped around you cocooning you close to himself ah i’m getting soft again ♡(㋭ ਊ ㋲)♡

[systlinsideblog]

Part 3

The Great Crimes are as follows;

There are three Great Crimes, for which the punishment is death.

The first of the Great Crimes when, in cold blood, a person murders another who has offered no offence. The punishment for murder shall be death, the sentence to be carried out by the loved ones of the murdered or by one they give the right to in their stead.

The second of the Great Crimes is rape. The punishment for rape of another shall be death, the sentence to be carried out by the victim or by one the victim gives the right to in their stead.

The third of the Great Crimes is to enslave another, and hold them in bondage. The punishment for holding another in slavery shall be death…

-The New Laws, or The Change in the Laws of Gor, The Great Ubara Systlin Stellas, on the new laws of the land, speech given in the Throne Room of Turia, 0 AGU. Chiseled on a pillar before the Law Rooms of Ar in its entirety

 Kutaituchik, the Ubar of the Tuchuks, was dead. 

It had been a very brutal and confusing few hours. The strange woman had refused to show courtesy or deference. She had made no apology for killing Tuchuk warriors. She had not relinquished the slave girl clinging tight to her side, the one whose master she had killed when he moved to chastise his slave.

She had stood before the Ubar of the Tuchuks like a queen before her court, and had demanded. 

I pulled at the slave collar around my throat, and found it quite secure. 

I have seen many things in my day. Many horrors, and many wonders. But I have never before in all my days seen a horror like the one that the woman Systlin had brought to the wagons of the Tuchuk. 

I looked to the wagons of the Ubar. There was light within them, bosk-dung fires in braziers. The woman Systlin had claimed it for her own, and gathered all the haruspexes and soothsayers to confer with them. 

My leg throbbed. It had been set and bound skillfully, but the bone would take some weeks to knit. Until then, I could scarce walk, hobbling with the aid of a cane. 

The woman had not even touched me to break it.

Sorceress, I thought. I had not believed in such things, and would have attributed such powers only to the Priest-Kings. But I had seen it now, with my own eyes, the terrible power that woman held, the power to shatter bone and steel with will alone. 

The corpses of some of the Tuchuks who had risen in rage against her after she had slain their Ubar were still lying where they had fallen. I tried not to look at them, but found my eyes drawn. 

Shapeless things they were, only scarce resembling men. The bones, I gathered, were nothing more any longer but needle-like splinters. Those splinters had driven through flesh and vital organs, and once-proud warriors lay where they had fallen, shapeless piles of bloody meat. 

I had been fortunate that it was only my leg that had been broken. 

I shivered. My leg throbbed. And I wondered, what terrible force had set a terror like this woman loose upon Gor.

 The water was cold. 

Systlin hated cold baths. Cold in general, really. But it was, in this situation, useful. 

Her Power screamed and fought inside her, eager to be used again, and she wanted to. Oh, but she wanted to, and that was the danger of it. The cold water was a good distraction. 

She didn't know how many men she'd killed. Some with sword. More, many more, with her power for Breaking. And it had been good, it had been so good, to stand there untouchable and terrible, hearing their screams and seeing their terror, to walk among them like a terrible, unstoppable, untouchable goddess, tearing down everything in her path...

She shivered, and ducked under the surface of the stream. 

It was always...hard, after, and she'd let herself go further than usual this time, in her rage. She always felt brittle after, hollow, the desire to kill and kill until nothing remained clawing to be let out again. She'd be short now with people, she knew, and snappish. Easily irritated, even over trivial matters. Once you started to kill with the Breaking gift, it was so very easy to continue.

Breaking was a terrible gift. The seduction of the sheer power it gave, the delight in using it, were as dangerously addictive as poppy milk. 

To look upon a Breaker is to look upon a madman. She remembered hearing that as a child, reading it in books. 

Under the water, sounds were muffled. But she still heard the sound of footsteps on the stream bank, muted and distorted. She came out of the water in a rush, her hand landing on Ice's hilt, and the sword was half drawn before she realized that the intruder was the girl she'd rescued from being beaten. 

The girl cringed back, falling to her knees and prostrating herself in what was clearly ingrained habit. "Mast...mistress! I am sorry! I did not mean..."

A little of the brittle anger ebbed out of her. Systlin sheathed her sword. "It's all right. I've spent too much of my life with people trying to kill me, is all. You did nothing wrong." She stepped out of the stream, wringing out her hair and shivering in the chilly air. 

The girl looked up at her, eyes wide. It was...unnerving. Systlin was used to people bowing, but bowing and the groveling the girl was doing were two different things entirely. "I have not displeased you, mistress?"

Oh, tits. 

"No. And you needn't call me that." Systlin pulled her trousers back on, and the quilted silk gambeson that went under her scale armor. "My Lady' will work quite well. I'm not your mistress. You're a free woman. I've no interest in owning anyone." 

"My lady?"

"Please stand up." Irritation flared, but Systlin tamped it down hard; it was a bleed-over from the cold joy of destroying, nothing more. It was not her, and she would not acknowledge it. She reached a hand out. After a moment, the girl took it hesitantly, and Systlin pulled her to her feet. "There. That's much better." 

The girl blinked at her, eyes still wide, and Systlin saw a hint of awe there. 

The girl had, she noticed, fashioned herself rough trousers of hide, patterned much like Systlin's own. 

"What's your name?" She asked. 

"I am Sabra." The girl was still staring, eyes moving up and down as she took everything in. "You...you are very strong. I have never seen...I did not know a woman could swing a sword like a man." 

Systlin tugged her armor over her head and hopped a bit until it settled into place. "Swords don't weigh that much. Anyone can swing a sword with practice. The strength to do it well will come with time and training." 

Sabra's head came up a little at that. "Anyone?" There was a thin thread of timid hope in her voice.

Systlin smiled. "Yes. Anyone. You included. Would you like to learn?"

There was a long pause, and then a long, slow, genuine smile from the former slave.

“I….think so, Mi…my lady.”

“Well. Then you shall. You’re a free woman, and free women do as they like.”

“Free.” The woman echoed, as if the word wasn’t real. “Free.”

“Unless of course you wish to go elsewhere.” Systlin shrugged as they walked. “Have you a family anywhere? A home you were taken from?”

“I…a long time ago, I did. If I wished…”

“I would give you gold, supplies, anything you needed, and take you there, and wish you well.”

The look the other woman gave her was naked astonishment, and something like awe. For a moment she looked wistful, but then… “No. If I returned home, I could quickly be made a slave again.” She touched her upper thigh; Systlin had noted that many of the freed slaves bore brands of various types there. “I am branded as a slave; any man could take me and sell me or keep me and be within the law.”

Systlin saw red for an instant. “Then you will stay.” She ground out. “Until we pay a visit to your former home, and teach them the error of such ways.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Sabra breathed. “You would…you would do this? Free other places as you’ve freed us in this camp?”

“If the men of this world insist on being awful,” Systlin growled. “I will do as I must. Slavery is among the greatest crimes, and rape another. I will not abide either.”

“You were sent.” Sabra breathed. “I begged the Mother for aid, though I was beaten for worshiping false gods. Other women also begged the old gods for aid, I know it. We begged for mercy and help and here you are.”

For mercy.

Systlin tilted her head back and stared at the sky. There were three moons here, which seemed to fly across the sky quite rapidly. She picked out the largest nearly by instinct, and glared.

Mercy. Lady’s mercy. Fucking pits. Now it made sense.

Gods. Gods and their machinations. She scowled.

Well. At least she knew how she’d ended up in this shithole.

  Morning brought no greater comfort. 

The slave collar around my neck had been forged for a woman, and though it was the Turian style on me it was too tight, and bit into my flesh. I could breathe, but it was uncomfortable

Between the throbbing of my leg, the pinch of the collar, and the chill of the night, I got but little sleep. Inside the wagon, under warm furs, slept slave girls. Their collars had been removed, and many of the surviving Tuchuk men wore them as did I, bound wrist and ankle and neck. 

I wondered what had become of Kamchak. I had not seen him since the furor had begun outside the Ubar's wagon. 

My wrists were securely chained behind me. Bells jangled with my every move. The ground was hard, and cold. I wondered, for the first time, how slave girls could sleep this way. 

The night passed in interminable slowness and misery. There was movement, among the wagons, and the sound of men's angry voices and chiming bells from other poor souls so humiliatingly bound as myself. There were the voices of women, hushed, and often with a tone of disbelief. 

I heard women laughing. There was rather more of it than I was accustomed to. 

Twice slave girls had come to see me. They seemed to find the sight of a warrior in slave chains novel. 

"You must let me free," I had said, my voice stern and commanding. "You are slaves; you must obey." 

They had giggled, ignoring my words, and left. They were, I noted, no longer attired properly; their hair was bound back in plaits, and they wore leather blouses and had fashioned trousers, hastily made but quite obviously patterned after those of the vicious she-sleen that had brought this ruin and humiliation down upon us. 

At dawn food was brought, dried bosk-meat. I was fed, given water, and then left alone again. 

The chain that connected the rings on my wrists and ankles and neck was quite securely linked to the axle of the wagon. I had tried to loosen it with some vigor the day before, without luck. 

Some time passed. I pulled at my chains, for all the good it would do me; my leg was quite broken, and I could not flee even should I get loose. 

As dawn broke, the scent of charring meat reached me, and south of the camp I saw great plumes of smoke begin to rise. 

I had smelled enough corpses burn to know that the dead of the slaughter the night before were being burnt. 

As the sun rose towards mid-morning, I was approached. 

The she-sleen had chosen herself a fine black kaiila. She rode well; I could see that she was not quite used to the sleen, as she rode as one would an ordinary horse. But she sat well, and when she dismounted it was gracefully and with ease. 

She had shed her leather tunic. Instead, glittering in the sun, was armor formed from what looked like scales, each perhaps two inches long and half as wide. They were of many different colors, each iridescent and gleaming brilliantly in the sun. 

She looked me over. I met her eyes steadily; I was a warrior of Ko-Ro-Ba, and I would not be cowed before a woman. 

"Hm." She made a noncommittal noise at last. "You are not of these people."

I said nothing.

"No matter." She shrugged, and turned. A group of slave-girls were following her. All were collarless and had plaited their hair, and wore clothing of various types; some skirts, some trousers. All wore blouses or vests of leather or cloth that sadly covered their charms. "Take him." 

"Am I to be a slave, then?" I glowered at her. 

She turned her head to look at me again. It occurred to me again that had she been less mannish and muscular, she could have been a beauty. 

"I've no interest in keeping anyone as property." She said. "You are to be judged." 

"By what authority?" A girl wearing the long skirt and leather vest of a Tuchuk woman moved to loose me from the wagon. Her hair was plaited. I remembered, not two days ago, seeing her dancing in pleasure silks and bells for her master around his fire. 

I thought of breaking loose and overpowering the girl. But the woman Systlin was still watching me, and I saw her, as the girl chose a key and unlocked my chain from the wagon, curl her hand around the hilt of the long dagger on her belt. 

I am ashamed to admit, but it stayed me. I had seen flashes of the woman fighting, and though it pain me I would be forced to compare her favorably with the greatest warriors of Ko-Ro-Ba. In my current state, I had no chance. My hope for flight lay in my recovering and stealing a fleet kaiila, I knew. So, as the chain was loosed, I gave no resistance. 

"Mine." The she-sleen's voice was crisp. "Can you walk?"

Pride demanded no less of me. I am a warrior of Ko-Ro-Ba. By leaning on the cart, I managed to get to my feet. 

"Help him." She told the girl who held my chain. The girl nodded.

She did not say what would happen to me if I resisted. She did not need to. 

I was taken to the tent of the Ubar. Before it was piled many fine carpets, and cushions of silk and leather. On top of it all was spread a worn gray robe; it was this, I supposed, this simple garment that was the grey robe of the Ubar. 

There were other men, chained as I was, chained to the palatal wagon of the Ubar of the Tuchuks. I tried to estimate their number; a hundred and a half, perhaps two. 

This was all that remained of the proud warrior men of the Tuchuk. 

I am no stranger to death. But upon seeing this, and realizing the full scale of the disaster which had befallen the Tuchuk, I must admit that I felt a flicker of fear. 

What terrible creature was this woman, to slay three thousand strong men in a night? 

The she-sleen walked past the men chained to the wagon. Her back was straight, and her stride purposeful. 

I could not help but notice that, despite her too-strong build, she had what appeared to be marvelously shapely hindquarters. 

She did not hesitate for even a moment; she went directly to the gray robe, the throne of the Ubar, and seated herself upon it with all the air of one born to it. 

I heard a groan rise from the captive men, myself included. She sat cross-legged, a man’s stance, not a woman’s proper kneeling stance. Women who sit so are often ridiculed as wishing to be men, but everything about this woman was unnatural and wrong.

One man started up, and my heart leapt; it was Kamchak! 

His arm was splinted, as was a leg, much like mine, and his eye was black and swollen. He spit in the direction of the she-sleen on the throne of the Ubar, and cursed her. 

"You! Sleen! You say you wish to judge us? What right have you?"

Her head turned, very slowly, to regard him. Then she smiled, and turned back to look out at the gathered crowd. 

Around the throne of the Ubar of the Tuchuks, women thronged. Tuchuk women, some grim-faced and some smiling. Slave girls, by the hundreds. Many wore trousers. Most had braided their hair. 

Mothers were holding their children. Babies fussed, and were soothed. Some of the older boys looked angry. Some of the girl-children cried too. The elder of the girls, however, were smiling. 

There were many more smiling women than scowling women in the gathered crowd. 

"Tuchuk," said the she-sleen, voice unconcerned and even. "Who is Ubara here?"

The roar of voices was near-deafening. "SYS-TAL-IN!" The women, freewomen and slave girls alike, screamed it. Only a few of the dour Tuchuk free women refrained. "SYS-TAL-IN! SYS-TAL-IN!" 

Systlin looked back at Kamchak, and her smile was an unpleasant thing. 

"There you have it." Her voice, again, was mild, deceptively so.

"You cannot..."

"I did." Her voice rose above Kamchaks'. "By your own laws, it seems, might makes right. The strong triumph, am I wrong?" Her eyes glittered. "It appears, warrior, that I am stronger than you, for I sit here on comfortable rugs and you are defeated and chained to a wagon."

"You used sorcery!"

"Yes." She agreed easily. "Though your warriors were easy enough to defeat without it." A horrible grin. "But yes. I used sorcery, and however I did it one woman, alone, brought every one of your great warriors to their knees. The pyres for those I killed burn still. And now, you will be silent, until it is your turn to be judged." 

"WE HAVE COMMITTED NO CRIMES!" Kamchack's outraged roar drew cries of approval from the other shamefully chained warriors. 

Systlin's mouth...it was a full mouth, and could have been pretty, were it smiling...compressed into a thin line. She nodded to one of the girls standing near the throne of the Ubar, in a grotesque imitation of the honor guard of an Ubar. 

"Gag him," she said simply. 

To my astonishment and horror, the girl moved promptly to do so, with a cheerful and almost gleeful demeanor. 

Kamchak surged to his feet as best he could as the girl approached with a strip of leather; several of the bound warriors gave cries of encouragement. Systlin's head snapped around, fast as a striking sleen, and she was on her feet in a moment and at the girl's side in a moment more, that vicious sword of hers drawn. 

The tip of that blade was pressed close against Kamchak's groin, and the she-sleen kept smiling, even as he drew a breath, naturally alarmed by the sharp steel near his male parts. 

"Sleen." Kamchak hissed this, proud even in chains. "You cannot always be there, woman. Your unnatural sorcery cannot protect you forever."

Systlin laughed. A little huff of a chuckle, even as the slave girl bound the gag around Kamchak's mouth and head with every sign of enjoyment, which disturbed me. 

"I have had," Systlin said, "Far better men than you try to kill me." A wide grin, with all of her teeth bared. "Now be quiet, and wait your turn." 

She returned to the seat of the Ubar. 

"Bring forth the first prisoner," she commanded. 

It was done. A warrior was dragged, bound hands and feet so that he could not even stand, before the grotesque display, and forced up on his knees. He spit at the she-sleen on the Ubar's seat; she did not turn a hair at this. 

"Your name." She asked. 

"Sleen!"

"Your name." The same patient tone. 

Silence. 

She sighed, lifted her eyes. "Can anyone tell me the name of this man?"

"Braltak." A woman's voice. I did not see who spoke. 

"Braltak. Have you, Braltak, in your life, held women or men as property?"

Silence. Braltak looked down his nose at her, and spit again. 

"He has." The same voice. Female. There was a quaver to it now. 

Braltak spun, as best he could. "Kala!" His voice was furious. "Kala, be silent!"

"Come forward, if you would." The she-sleen's voice speaking to me and the warrior had been curt, cold, commanding. But to the girl Kala, it was softer, and gentler.

Timidly, looking always at Braltek, a girl stepped through to stand before the self-proclaimed Ubara. 

She was a lovely girl. Turian, I was certain, with golden hair and eyes as green as summer grass. Her figure was delicate and trim, though it was difficult to tell through the long leather skirt and baggy blouse she wore. 

"Your name is Kala?" Again, the softer, gentler voice, encouraging. 

"Yes, Ubara." The girl was still glancing nervously at Braltek. "And...before you freed us...I was his slave." 

The idea was hard to swallow, at first; every slave in the Tuchuk camp, free!

But she had, I had to admit, the right. She sleen she may be, but she had defeated the warriors, by sorcery or not. She had taken their slaves for her own, and had done with them as she liked. 

I did not like it, but it was fact. 

"He kept you as property." Systlin's voice was hard; her eyes were back on Braltek. "Did he, Kala, ever place hands on you against your will? Did he ever force you to pleasure him?"

"She is a slave! That is her purpose!" Braltek roared. 

"Ah. I have my answer." Systlin nodded her head, once. "By the law of my lands, such a crime carries the penalty of death. As the victim, you have the right to seek mercy. Do you desire mercy for this man?"

Kala's lovely green eyes fixed on Braltek. 

"You are mine, Kala." Braltek's voice went lower. "You are mine. I am your master, you know it."

The lovely girl turned back to the she-sleen on the robe of the Ubar. 

"I do not." Her voice was almost inaudible, but then she spoke again, more strongly. "I do not! I do not seek mercy for him!"

My mouth hung open. 

Kala was slave. A slave loves her master. It is what they are trained for. 

"I do not seek mercy for him!" Kala's voice rose, almost a scream. 

"Then I, Systlin Stellas, Queen of the Northern Lands and Ubara of the Tuchuk, proclaim this man Braltek guilty of the crimes of rape and slaving, and sentence him to die." The she-sleen stood, graceful, and picked up a quiva from among the rugs she had sat upon. She flipped the blade, catching it easily by the tip without looking, the motion smooth, automatic, and practiced. She offered the hilt over to the girl. "It is your right, as offended party, to carry out the sentence yourself, if you so wish." 

To my incredible shock, the girl Kala reached out a hand, almost tentatively, and took the hilt of the quiva. 

She could not do it, of course. She was a slave, and a slave belongs to her master, utterly. 

The slender fingers tightened on the hilt. She did not seem to know how to hold the quiva properly, holding it as if she were about to slice bosk meat for the spit. 

Her eyes turned to Braltek, and in them burned something like hate. 

No. She was slave! A slave serves her master!

"Kala." Braltek's voice sounded suddenly uncertain. "Kala, I have treated you well, better than most would..."

Kala screamed then, high and furious and long,  and flew at him. The quiva rose and fell. 

She was inexpert with the weapon. The blade hit Braltek's shoulder, and slid down, slicing a long cut into his arm. Blood flowed, and Braltek yelled in shock. 

The quiva rose and fell again. Again, again, again the girl struck, inexpert, but the wounds adding up one by one until Braltek lay in a pool of red-stained grass. 

Kala dropped the quiva, and fell to her knees. She was sobbing, great wracking sobs that shook her small frame. 

The she-sleen came down from her throne, went down to her knees beside the girl, and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

"It is all right." Her voice was soft, and Kala leaned into her blindly, as a child might seek comfort from its mother. "He cannot hurt you again." 

Some other girls came forward then; Kala was taken away with much patting of hair and comforting. 

The she-sleen returned to her throne of rugs, sitting down once more. She smiled then, as if nothing had happened. 

I, and the men chained as I, were silent. The shock had not yet sunk in. 

"Had he a wife, or any children?" Systlin asked. 

No one responded. 

"Then it is my order that all the worldly possessions of Braltek now go to Kala. They are hers, to do with as she will. Bring forward the next prisoner." The she-sleen commanded. 

[softcallofdutyimagines]

Temporary Secretary | Chpt 4

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Interlude

Peck x fem!reader

Y'all are about to break this poor man with your wily female ways in this chapter, PLEASE !!!! HAVE MERCY, TEMPTRESS 😭✋🏻✋🏻

This chapter broke me with it's softness in the best way possible and it's for a darn side character with like 5 seconds of screen time. Enjoy, bc this is some of my best work 🥲👌🏻

The two of you part ways for just a few hours to get ready, with the promise that Peck will pick you up. Thanks to his overachievement earlier today, he's actually just about ready.

If only he could figure out what to wear.

This is so stupid... He wants to look his best, but he doesn't want to look intimidating either. He also needs something flattering, but he's not sure what looks good on him. Right now, it's looking like nothing does.

He's got a classic black suit on right now. Can't go wrong with that, right? He turns to the side, and then to his back. Nah, too... Funeral.

Next he tries a tan suit. Grey tie, blue shirt. A little turn and... No, doesn't fit right.

Alright, maybe he should try dressing down? He loses the suit jacket and goes just for the dress pants, and nice shirt, and a tie. Hm... Not bad, but it's missing something. He pats his hands to his belly.

He wishes he had something to cover up his torso.

Peck shuffles through his closet again. Maybe... Ah, here it is.

He comes back with a smart looking tweed waistcoat, just the right shades of camel to match his pants and burgundy shirt. Taking some time, he straightens his tie and combs his fingers through his hair before checking his reflection. It looks... Good.

Great, even.

He looks great.

Finally, now he can finish. Peck rushes around to gather his shoes, keys, and wallet on his way to pick you up, and all the while he can't seem to loose the genuine smile plastered on his face. All he can hope is that you find him as handsome as he feels.

Because one thing's for sure, when he sees you come out to him... You're looking far more beautiful then he ever could have imagined. Who would've thought that he, Dr William Peck, could be left feeling so humbled by the presence of another.

He's almost afraid to touch you, as if any wrong or sudden movement will shatter the daydream.

But this is no dream.

The glowing smile you give him, the one the penetrates it's warmth all the way into his soul, is just as real as your hand feeling the material of his vest as it strokes his chest. Just as real as your delicate, meticulously manicured hand in his as he helps you into the car. And just as real as your melodic little laugh, the sweetest sound he's heard in years.

By the time you're officially sat to eat on your date, he feels as though he's forgotten how to speak. For the first time in... Ever, really, he lets someone else do all the talking. He could sit there all evening listening to you.

It's funny how he never realized how much he loves the sound of your voice... Your alluring little accent...

But every little side chuckle at one of his remarks, every every excited lilt of your voice as you talk quickly and ramble on about something you like, every show of quick wit or genuine compliment towards him or his accomplishments...

Everything leaves him wondering how he ever could have lived without someone as warm and radiant as you. He feels like he's lived his whole life without having seen the sun, just for the curtain to suddenly be raised one day allowing him to bask in the brilliant orange glow. He thinks he's never met anyone so beautiful, truly, through and through.

It simply shines outward from within you. It's a part of you, your very essence. Beautiful...

He almost wishes he could be a part of you, if only just to be close to that glorious flame you carry within you. Even if it burns him up, it would all be worth it to experience the pure joy you exude.

When the plates are cleared and the bill is paid, your fingers playful brush against his atop the table, "I had fun tonight doct-, er William...

He laughs a nervous little chuckle and returns the sentiment. He hasn't been told something like that in a long time.

In the car on the way back, naturally, you two strike up another conversation. It must be a good one, considering neither of you realize he missed the turn to take you home.

"Oh, shit... Sorry, I guess I was distracted... I can turn around here"

"Oh... Do we have to? I mean... I don't really want to end the night just yet", you lay fingers on his arm, just light enough to be felt with without being overly insistent. God, you don't know what that does to him... You offer to make tea at his place for the hospitality and maybe you can catch a taxi later.

It's as good a plan as any considering he feels the same way about ending the night, so continue on your way.

Ever the gentleman, he helps you out if the car and holds the door to his house open for you. He even offers to take your coat. You hand it over, touched by the offer, and press a lipstick kiss to his soft, puffy cheek.

"I'm going to start the water", you smile and let your hand linger on his forearm for as long as it can reach until you've completely walked away.

Peck makes a sound something like a wheeze in response as he stands frozen in place. His cheeks turn bright red, almost the same color of the lipstick print you've left behind. He takes a minute to collect himself before hanging your coat, and surely he needs it, because if his heart beats any faster he's confident it'll explode.

By the time he meets you in the kitchen, he's still not quite out of his daze. You tell him he's just in time and ask where the tea bags are. Finally he snaps out of it and jumps in to help you. He pours the water into two mugs, while you laugh and apologize as you point out the lipstick stain on his cheek.

Of course, you wipe it off for him with a warm paper towel. Although, it was never really bothering him in the first place.

You take your drinks to the living room, and pick up your discussion from the car. He's fascinated to get to know you, perhaps even more so to see what makes you so interested in a nerdy loner like him. The worst of him suspects you might like his money, but... He can't bear to believe that.

The two of you sit there in the Amber fire light for an hour still, all the while the dread of you preparing to leave eats away at him.

You're so close to him right now... Your knees are always just barely about to touch his, and he wonders when you decided to slide over here from where you were. He wonders if you even noticed you've been pulling closer and closer to him all this time.

Or maybe... He's been pulling closer to you.

Whatever the case, there's no time for pursuing the reason as you snap him out of his thoughts once more, "Hm, you're so sweet..."

His eye snaps open. He looks taken aback, "I am?", he laughs nervously, playing it off as a little joke.

He stops when your hand comes up to caress his cheek.

The flat of your knuckle presses into his baby soft skin while your thumb swipes slow, calming strokes along his cheekbone. You nod and offer a little hum of affirmation.

"I've never met someone who puts up with me as much as you do. Most men tell me I talk too much", you look away shyly, and huff a little laugh as you begin to retract your hand.

No sooner is it lifted from his cheek then does he catch it. Peck holds onto your curled up hand, looking from it to you, before slowly bringing it up to kiss your knuckles. His eye never break contact with yours, his voice quiet, "I don't think that at all..."

Now it's your turn to feel frozen. This is such a far cry from being told to be quiet by all your dates...

Peck rubs his thumb over the area he kissed and suddenly seems to be overcome with nerves. He looks away and does that same little nervous laugh, "But uh, I-I guess that's pretty corny, huh..."

Your eyes go wide at that, "Oh no! No, no not at all!", you come a little closer, and suddenly you're sitting hip to hip. Even still, you lean forward just a tad, "I think anyone would like to hear that..."

He's just a breath away now... You plant a little kiss to the tip of his nose, then nudge it gently with the tip of yours. Almost breathlessly, you whisper, "Keep going..."

His chest is so tight, he feels like he can hardly breathe. His heart is hammering so hard, it's a wonder to him that he can hear you at all. He takes in just a taste of air, all of it smells of you and your perfume, "I um... I think it's a shame... Because... You have such a beautiful voice. And... I like the things you have to say"

"Yeah?", you all but touch your lips to his, giving the faintest of kisses, before pulling back to nuzzling his nose.

It teases so badly, it hurts.

"Yeah", he just barely manages. "I... Actually... Like spending time with you"

He can't take this pain inside him any longer, he has to say it. He needs more. This time, he kisses you. It's soft, and gentle, and you're surprised to find that his lips can be described in just the same way.

"Really?"

He nods, oh so subtly. You don't need to be told what an honor it is to be told such words from him.

You drop a kiss to his jawline, another faint, ticklish one, his little cushion of baby fat soft and sweet against your lips. But just one isn't enough. You plant a trail all the way to his earlobe, which you give a tiny little nip.

"I like you too..."

Every one of his hairs stands on end. A rush of electric spark jolts up his back. He feels so overwhelmed by his senses, he feels he's going blind and deaf at the same time. Everything feels surreal, quiet, and yet comforting and exciting.

He's never felt anything like this before. He's never had anything like this before.

You pull back just enough to gauge his reaction.

The two of you hold one another's gaze for just a moment, waiting for the other to do something, anything. For once in his life, Peck makes the first move. With both hands he holds your face and pulls you into a kiss, this one far more rough and hungry then anything he's given before.

A little surprised, but more so excited, you make a shrill hum and fall into him, tackling him to his back. You crawl up a little to maintain the kiss, your body on his as you come back again and again, pushing and turning as if you might eventually find the right combination that would allow you to melt into one another.

His hands slide down to hold you steady, while yours come up to cup his cheeks. You shift your body a little too the side, and suddenly... He's afraid.

He's afraid that now you've felt his body under his clothes. Afraid that you're dissatisfied or disappointed. Have you discovered his secret? His soft body and unimpressive physique?

You've told him you dated a few Soviet and Omega soldiers before. He could never measure up to any of that. Not now, not even 20 years ago.

Breathless, you break the chain of kisses and slide into the tiny gap between him and the back of the couch. His arm is still around you, and his mouth follows you to the side, wanting more. You're on your side, on the couch cushion now, with nothing but a leg tangled up with his.

He frowns at the conclusion he's come to. That must be it. This was all a test to see if he was physically to your liking, and he failed. The warmth and budding pressure in his chest turns immediately, it's sharp and painful, like a betrayal.

Now he feels he needs to make an excuse. He starts to say something, but bites his tongue quickly.

You slide your hand down from his cheek and bring it to rest on his abdomen. A little laugh escapes you, almost giddy in nature, and you can't help but kiss the corner of his mouth one more time. At last you sigh, and snuggle your nose into the crook of his neck all while absent mindedly giving gentle little strokes along his belly.

He freezes, and suddenly his heart starts beating again. The sharp pain dissolves and the warmth begins to return. His eye darts down to watch your hand at work on the bump beneath his vest, and then to your soft, sleepy smile as you breath in the lingering, musky scent of his aftershave.

This is... New. But, unlike most new things, he doesn't hate it. In fact, it's actually rather nice.

Peck turns his head, nestling his nose into your sweetly scented hair. He pulls down the blanket of the back of the couch to cover you both, earning him a hum of approval. With one more sigh, your hand comes to a rest on his warm body as you begin to drift off to sleep.

The last thing you feel is the sensation of a soft, featherlight kiss to your forehead and a sweet whisper of 'good night'.

[dodo-begone]

ALRIGHTY! LOYAL HERE COMING IN WITH THE CIRCUS HAHAHA

Btw, I’m like 90% sure that I fell asleep while writing so it just stops. Like, there’s no ending/summary/whatever word I’m looking for but can’t think of at the moment and my bird is currently chewing on my phone case oh my god can she please stop—

__________________

I believe the concept of yanderes ft. a isekai-d reader has been mentioned by Shepard and her anons, tho it’s been mainly for Origins SMP. So, I come to you with ideas for the Dream SMP because that’s all I’m familiar with HAHAH—

Also, I apologize in advance because this thing is borderline an essay with how long it is. I’m so sorry—

For example *cue dramatic lighting and a cheesy flashback monologue thingie* oh my god I think I’m losing it, I’m so tired

Y/n and their younger sibling, Frisk, had just finished up another press conference regarding Monsters being back on the surface. All seems to be going well until the ground beneath their feet vanishes and they fall unconscious a few moments later. When they awaken, they notice they’re surrounded by humans—wait they aren’t all humans, what the fuck, since when are there hybrids? They knew everyone from the underground—by name, no less—and had never heard of any currently living hybrids. Only of ones from before the war. Besides, Monsters have been on the surface for a month at most, so there is no way for... oh boy, their head is spinning.

After some very...tense...introductions (“Hi, I never saw you guys Underground, nor have I heard of you, no offense. So, uh, which monsters are you guys related to?” “OI, I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT TUBBO IS NOT A MONSTER!”) they come to the realization that y/n is most definitely not from this world, or even this universe. Y/n’s adamant refusal to fight the “real monsters” that roam this land (“I did not spend countless timelines weeks putting my life on the line to befriend every monster, break the barrier that trapped them Underground, and defend them against my own god forsaken race just to turn my back on them.”) was a pretty big sign, after all. That, along with species of monsters that the SMP members have never heard of and how y/n talked about Souls as if they were a tangible thing.

It’s a rocky start before any sort of friendship is formed: y/n, wanting to be cautious, (and also not having Sans there to CHECK for them) decides to ask everyone what their LV is. It’s risky, and they had no way to prove if anyone is (or isn’t) telling the truth, but it was worth a shot. “Our levels?” A small goat hybrid asked, his head slightly tilting to the side. Everyone assumes that y/n is talking about enchantment levels. “I’m at 26! Ranboo, you’re at 30, right?” “I’m at 37 now, actually.” “Well, I’M at 58. Clearly I’m the superior one here. A real big man, a very manly man, aren’t I?” And a few others pipe in. Color drains from y/n’s face and they take a few steps back, hands shaking as their eyes dart between each person in the room and the exit. ‘How many lives have they each taken to make their LOVE so high? Why do they seem so proud of it?’ Yeah... that was an interesting experience.

- even though they have been reassured multiple times that the monsters of this world are nothing like the ones from their home, y/n still refuses to kill a single one, as I had mentioned earlier. They also refuse to kill animals. It takes a couple tries at explaining LV or LOVE—Level Of ViolencE—along with EXP—EXecution Points—but eventually everyone is on the same page

- Y/n is hesitant to bring out their SOUL when asked. First off, though they’re now friends with those from the Underground, they can’t help but be reminded of every spear, knife, bone, petal, gaster blaster, and fireball that has been aimed at them with the intent to kill whenever their SOUL was drawn into an encounter back then. Second of all, showing your SOUL is something you do with those you trust with your life—after all, you’re literally putting your lifeline out on display when you do so. There are so many different ways that the SMP members can see it

- Perhaps a monster appears

- Eggpire or Dream attack

- Someone forces y/n into an encounter because everyone is too curious to just let this opportunity slip by

- When y/n discovers that the people of this land have more than one life, they’re confused. There is no way that all of these people have SOULS of Determination, and there’d definitely be some issues if people kept rewinding time to their last save point. Besides, only one Determination SOUL—the strongest one—should be able to respawn. Then again, they only know what Frisk had explained to them. They were never able to see the save stars that Frisk would interact with in the different sections of the Underground. So they only have so much to go off of.

- Battle for them is completely different. Despite being in a different world, the mechanics from their world still apply. They can FIGHT, ACT, use an ITEM or show MERCY.

- They use Frisk’s tactic and flirt their way out of a fight or two. They never understood why Frisk did it until now... ‘I mean, I...wow. That was actually effective.’ They’re impressed.

- Oh no, maybe that wasn’t the best idea...they might have some yanderes after them bc of it...

- They probably have accidentally called Philza ‘Asgore’ and Tubbo ‘Asriel’ because both hybrids remind her of the two males from her world. Similar personalities AND Tubbo is a goat hybrid. The poor child is going to be so confused

- If Tubbo’s a yandere oh boy it’s going to be so easy for him. Y/n will probably be constantly at his side and telling him stories about the first fallen child and how they were adopted by the royal family, who are goat monsters! And just explaining the history of the underground and how important the goat family is. Talks about Asriel a lot as well. Probably makes him butterscotch cinnamon pie and tries to recreate golden flower tea to share with him as well. Or, they do that and he’s not yandere and it’s just wholesome.

- If we follow the headcanons that some fans have made, perhaps Frisk (and/or y/n) gave up half of their SOUL to give to either (or both) Chara or Asriel so they’d have another chance at life

- Not only does y/n refuse to kill, which leaves them vulnerable, they also only have half a SOUL, which means they’re incredibly weak. Someone needs to protect them, someone needs to keep them safe, someone needs to—

- Y/n is incredibly agile thanks to all the battles they’ve faced Underground. With their SOUL always out in the open during an encounter and the fact that they refuse to harm anyone, it’s required. I’m imagining them moving like a dancer, using jumps and spins to help them avoid any weapons swung at them.

- This is gonna be annoying for any yandere that wishes to lock y/n up. Even if they won’t physically hurt someone, they WILL put up a fight and make it as hard as they possibly can to be dragged into isolation or imprisonment

- When it comes to who goes yandere, I believe what color of SOUL y/n has (their personality, in summary) would play a big role. Here’s a few of my ideas, feel free to move people around or add to it, I’m really tired and can’t think of many characters LOL

- Red (determination): Wilbur, Technoblade

- Orange (bravery): Technoblade, Dream, Tommy

- Yellow (justice): Sam, Technoblade

- Green (kindness): the kids of the server, Fundy, and Ghostbur

- Cyan (patience): Ranboo, Ghostbur, Karl

- Dark blue (integrity): Tubbo, Philza, Sam

- Purple (perseverance): Dream—this man would love to see how long it would take for your perseverance to run out. I wouldn’t be surprised if your perseverance is the only reason he’s interested.

__________________

From what I saw of the end of what I wrote, it is DEFINITELY cut short. At least I mentioned every SOUL type lolol.

Also, I found a whole other note that’s a continuation of this concept but for y/n being from another game what the hell was I doing—

Expect that to come in another ask once I eat dinner

Sorry i took so long to answer!! I kept getting distracted!

That stuff is so pog man!!!! Puffy might be called “Toriel” once in a while because mom energy and she sheep,,, close to goat!

Gosh all the flirting will bring in so many yanderes or make ppl like “yo wtf??” And there’s a very small amount that are inbetween.

OKAY BUT WITH THE MONSTER STUFF ON THE DSMP- they’d keep the monsters in their house. They’d give them food and everything. Some def become very friendly and will defend. Haha giant spider go prrrrrr

I’d write more but there is so much amazing stuff I don’t think I could add to some of them anyways!!! Plus my mind is just racing other places rn haha

[princessamericachavez]

Fjorester Talk in episode 117

also known as Sofía goes buckwild and overanalyzes 10 minutes of conversation and body language.

ready?

Ok, first of all, Fjord looks so worried from the get go as he asks Jester if Lucien/Cree was speaking to her directly. 

And when she confirms it he does this little grumpy sigh

He no like it. No like it at all.

Fjord: Does it seem like he’s keying in on you in particular?

LISTEN GUYS

I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR LIKE TWO WEEKS

HOPING FJORD WOULD GET PROTECTIVE OVER JESTER CONSTANTLY GETTING SCRIED ON/MESSAGED BY LUCIEN BUT I DIDN’T THINK TRAVIS WAS ACTUALLY GOING TO DELIVER

AND HE DIIIIIID

Ok anyway he goes on about how when they see someone else scrying it’s usually just a representation of the spell and wonders if Lucien is more powerful and therefor can see the person

and then he makes a pause mid-argument

because Jester makes this face and he realizes this is upsetting her, so he quickly backtracks trying to reassure her. 

Fjord: I’m sure it’s just coincidence but...

and here’s where the idea comes and god how long has he been thinking about this???

Fjord: since we’re not in the sea... would you... want to wear this?

YES HELLO DO YOU SEE THE PARALLELS TO THAT ONE TIME HE WANTED TO GIVE HER AN EXTRA POWERFUL HEALING POTION TO MAKE SURE SHE WOULD BE SAFE??? PROTECTIVE FJORD PARALLELS!!!

and then he just brushes off the fact that he’s a huge Uk’otoa beacon everytime they are on water —baby, you died once already, don’t act like it’s whatever???

Fjord: maybe it would provide some protection if we were to keep checking in on him?

Jester: I mean... it’s worth a try. 

Of course, as she points out, Lucien has already met all of them and he could just as easily scry on any of the M9 if he wanted to, but that’s not really what Fjord is worried about, what is bothering him. Fjord knew Lucien was watching and it’s not the first time they are scried on, but he makes it clear that he’s concerned about how centered on Jester that’s been lately. 

Jester: Maybe it’ll keep me from getting seen next time I scry on him?

Fjord: I guess we’ll find out next time we try it. 

The way he chuckles softly, trying to defuse the tension, and she smiles back even though this subject clearly has her nervous??? 11/10

Jester: Thank you. 

SHE SAYS IT SO SOFTLY. SHE’S CLEARY SO TOUCHED THAT HE’S WATCHING OUT FOR HER AND HAVING HER BACK JUST LIKE HE ALWAYS DOES. 

LOOK AT THOSE HEART EYES THEY BOTH HAVE WTF

THEY ARE BOTH SO SOFT 

Fjord: Yeah. Just in case it’s not... coincidence. 

Listen there’s such a heaviness in how he says the word. 

Like the possibility of anyone —especially this very dangerous stranger with the face of a friend— purposefully targeting Jester is his worst nightmare. It probably is. 

Jester: It’s also creepy. He did say that he kind of knew me, right?

NOTICE HOW JESTER IS STILL PLAYING WITH THE AMULET IN HER HANDS??? 

Idk why but that’s getting to me. She’s so nervous with this whole thing. 

Fjord: He did?

Jester: When we got there he said he hadn’t met anyone except for me. 

OH FJORD DOESN’T LIKE THIS AT ALL

So of course Jester tries to defuse the tension talking about how she must look like through the scry

AND HE’S JUST SO IN LOVE

And so he plays along

LOOK AT THE WAY HE MAKE HER SMILE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(same, Ashley, same)

And so, more reassured by the goofiness, Jester finally puts the necklace on. 

Fjord: And of course, it’s Caleb’s...

Jester: oh

LISTEN SHE DID NOT LIKE THAT. She was clearly so excited to get a present like this from Fjord and you can see her face fall a little when it’s deviated towards someone else. 

Jester: should I ask him if it’s okay?

Fjord: Well, he gave it to me to use it..

Fjord: and you seem to need it more. 

AKA THE AMULET WAS FOR FJORD’S WELLBEING BUT THE WAY HE IS OK IS IF HE KNOWS JESTER IS PROTECTED

Jester, now that she knows this is something that he is personally choosing to transfer to her: Okay...

LOOK AT THE WAY SHE CLUTCHES IT TO HER HEART I’M DYING

Fjord: And just be careful.

Fjord: I don’t like the possibility of him keying in on you or using that connection between the two of you to manipulate something. His magic seems strange. 

LISTEN GUYS LISTEN 

THIS PART HERE IS HUGE OK?

This is the part where Fjord took 18 steps forward instead of one since Rumblecusp

Whereas before he could’ve hide his concern as something tactical, something useful that made sense and could help their mission... or could’ve hidden behind group speech to disguise his concern...

here he says “I don’t like the possibility of him keying in on you.”

here he is straight up saying “I am worried about you”

(quietly hopes Lucien does exactly that to trigger more protective fjord instincts in the future and lots of angst based shippy shenaingans)

Fjord: Alright. More adventures tomorrow. 

BECAUSE THAT’S ALL OK

THAT’S IT

HE SAID HIS PIECE, HE KEPT HER SAFE, MADE SURE SHE LAUGHED A LITTLE AND THAT’S ALL HE NEEDS... THAT AND MORE ADVENTURES BY HER SIDE

But then Jester hesitates

AND LOOK AT THAT, THE WAY SHE PULLS BACK LIKE SHE’S AFRAID IF SHE SAYS THE WRONG THING HE’LL CLOSE OFF

THE WAY HIS FACE SCRUNCHES WITH WORRY OVER WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE TROUBLING HER THAT SHE’S HESITATING TO SAY

Fjord: What?

Jester: H- How are you?

FJORD MELTING IMMEDIATELY: 

The way he goes from super concerned to extremely soft in 0.2 seconds.

(i am ashley and ashley is me)

Jester: *explaining all the very valid reasons she has to be worried about Fjord too and all the crazy shit that happened to him only a few days ago*

Fjord: *bursting with feelings of love*

seriously travis pls have some mercy of my poor yearning soul

Also I wanna talk about the way Jester brings up Avantika.

Jester: She tried to pull you into the water... you guys had a thing... it must have been weird to see her all kinda dead and stuff... was it weird? And then you killed her... again...

The way she calls them “a thing” and the way she checks if it was “weird” for him to see her as undead really says a lot to me. I think Jester never quite got over the heartbreak during the pirate arc and part of her probably still thought that Fjord harbored some sort of feelings or attraction towards Avantika. 

I think she believes whatever they two had was far more intimate than it actually was. Or, at the very least, Jester thinks it must have meant something to Fjord. 

How could she not? The whole thing had her bursting with jealousy and pain and unresolved feelings... you can tell how anxious she is around this subject but also she needs to know if he’s alright because she cares too much

Fjord: It was weird. Yeah, it was weird, for sure. I wasn’t expecting that...

HE DOESN’T EVEN REGISTER IT AS AN “EX” THING I SWEAR

Fjord: I’m alright. 

And so she finally relaxes.

Fjord: It feels like I keep trying to start newer chapters in my life and leave the old stuff behind and then it just... keeps popping up. 

Fjord: It feels like it’s hard to... pursue something new, when the past is not dealt with. 

YOU CAN’T SEE IT IN THE SCREENSHOTS BUT JESTER STARTS NODDING VERY GENTLY WHEN HE STARTS TALKING ABOUT NEW CHAPTERS AND MOVING ON 

ALSO THIS

(ashley knows what I’m talking about)

Jester: Do we need to deal with the past?

WE

SHE SAYS WE

BECAUSE AS USUAL THEY ARE A TEAM ALWAYS FIRST AND FOREMOST

AND IF THIS IS SOMETHING HE NEEDS TO DO SHE’S GOING TO HELP HIM AND BE BY HIS SIDE WITHOUT A DOUBT NO MATTER WHAT

Fjord: I think so. 

Fjord: Yeah... I want to. 

THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER WHEN HE SAYS ‘I WANT TO’. HE WANTS TO HAVE A FUTURE WITH HER. HE WANTS TO LET GO OF THE PAST SO HE CAN HAVE A FUTURE WITH HER. HE’S LETTING HIMSELF ‘WANT’ THIS AND ADMITTING IT.

Fjord: I feel like I need to close all of that before...

AND THEN HE JUST GOES THROUGH THIS BLESSED FACE JOURNEY FOR 6 ENTIRE SECONDS

LOOK AT IT

AND THE WAY SHE SLOWLY SMILES LIKE SHE MIGHT KNOW WHAT HE MEANS

LOOK AT HER OWN FACIAL JOURNEY

ASHLEYYYYYYYYYY

And so Jester jumps into action mode offering her help. 

and Fjord —once again— proves that he’s able and willing to open up to Jester about things that he’s keeping close to his chest... like Sabian. 

Fjord: I um... I actually... I put a bounty out for S-Sabian. 

IDK WHY THIS FACIAL EXPRESSION AMUSES ME THIS MUCH

THIS IS FJORD’S ‘IM ABOUT TO CONFESS SOMETHING PERSONAL TO JESTER FACE’ AND WE’VE SEEN IT BEFORE AT THE KILN AND IN RUMBLECUSP

Jester: A bo- When? How?

SHE’S SO BEWILDERED LMFAO

and a little offended that she didn’t know

and I think Fjord can tell by the way he quickly tries to excuse it as a way to keep Kotho occupied after the whole Vokodo ordeal

But Jester quickly gets back on track and starts looking for a way to help him with this. If finding Sabian is what Fjord wants —what he needs— right now, she’ll do anything to help him. 

Jester: *describing how she would be able to help Fjord*

Fjord, who never had anyone be this ride or die for him ever and who is bursting at the seems with love for this kind and wonderful woman:

Fjord: Sure.

Jester: You want me to do it?

Fjord: Yeah. 

THOSE HEART EYES SHOULD BE ILEGAL 

Jester: *uses a sixth level spell to send a message for Fjord because this is totally her number one priority now and it’s not like they are dealing with stuff that literally drained her today or like they are stuck up north for god knows how long... nope... she needs to find a way to help Fjord right now*

Fjord:

okay okay okay

so after the message

you can see how Jester is worried that the news she finally found for him are bad news and not going to cheer him up

Jester: Oops

Fjord: No, no, no, no! No oops! That’s great! That’s great!

I love the way he rushes to reassure her, to make sure she knows that what she just did for him is amazing and means so much and please jester do not be sad about this because this already means so much to me you have no ideaaaaaa

Fjord: That’s... totally distracting but that’s great. 

Fjord: Thank you.

Jester: You’re welcome! Now you know!

Fjord, with more feeling and emotion behind it like he wants to tell her that she and everything she does for him out of love mean the entire universe to him: Thank you.

Jester, blissfully unaware that he’s in love with him but delighted that she was able to help and that he is letting her in enough to help deal with his past: You’re welcome! I’m glad I could help!

Fjord, still not over how good she is and how diametrically different her kindness is compared to everything else he’s known in life so far and still after these many months shook and surprised by how wonderful she is: That’s very nice of you, I-

Jester: It’s just a (6th level) spell. Easy to do.

SHE HAS NO IDEA THAT WHAT HE MEANS ISN’T THE MAGIC NOR THE SPELL NOR THE INFORMATION... IT’S HER HELP AND SUPPORT THAT HE IS SO SHAKEN WITH. 

Fjord: I.... will think about that all night. 

Sure you will Fjord. We know you will. But we know it’s not about Sabien but about Jester’s kindness that you’re gonna be thinking all night. We know that’s what’s keeping you up. Not the past, the future. 

AND OF COURSE

THE OBLIGATORY AWKWARD ENDING

Fjord: I’ll race you to the top!

Both: UP!

THEY ARE SO ADORABLE AND GOOFY AND PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER WTF HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE MY LIFE INSTEAD OF THINKING ABOUT THEM 24/7??

ANYWAY WHO IS READY FOR PIRATE ARC PART 2 AND MORE SHENANIGANS WITH THESE TWO WHILE FJORD GETS FINALLY READY TO MOVE FORWARD TOWARDS THE FUTURE HE WANTS WITH JESTER? I AM

[zoomsbatty]

(Repost because I had to delete my old account)

Adventures Of The Terrible Bird

Marco had overworked himself again. Hunched over his desk as he completed another stack of paperwork, and maps that needed to be done. Yet, no matter how many hours he poured in it always seemed to just increase in size. Witchcraft, he swore. 

At the late hours of the night he finally decides to turn it in. Sluggishly making his way down the quiet halls, and stretching his poor sore muscles. Stiff limbs popping loudly as the noise bounced across the wooden walls. He needed a chiropractor, but that would have to wait until morning. He fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, but it wasn't Marco who had woken up. 

It was the phoenix. 

The moment the sunlight shone through the small window the phoenix had awoken. Moving his small head from where it was sitting snugly inside his wing, and gracefully stretching his long neck. With a ruffle of his blue feathers he had realized something incredibly wrong. He was in a place he did not like. The phoenix was angry, and he was going to make it everyone’s problem. 

“YOI!” With a screech, and a flap of his wings he had declared war! He burst from his spot on the bed, and flew right to where the light was coming from. The sun was there, so that must mean it was a way outside. Yes! He will get to sun, and find his captors. Evil humans will pay! Except, that didn't happen. As he just flew face first into the window at full speed. He stopped, and hopped back to his feet like a blue feathery tornado. 

What was that? He craned his long neck to the one that hurt him. Staring at the strange, invisible, barrier that had dared to stop his escape. One peck spooking the bird as he screamed, and flapped his feathers in anger. It was magic! He sent a hiss its way. 

“What in the world? Marco, what are you doing in here?” His neck straightened up when he heard the voice. A human! Or in other terms, the phoenix’s next victim. The door slowly opened, and the poor soul then peaked in. Confused eyes scanning the room for any sign of the first commander. Instead, they sadly were met with a face full of blue feathers. 

“YOI! YOI!” He cried in victory as he knocked puny human down. He stood on their (not actually) dead body as he flapped his wings as a show of dominance! No one can stop the phoenix! He was unstoppable! With his new found freedom he made a run for it. Talons hitting wood as he ran across the halls at top speed. Top speed being however fast a waddling goose could go at a given time. He was free, and now he may smite all the fools who had dared try to contain him! 

“YYYOOOIII!” The moment he had found himself on deck he yelled. Wings flapping, and talons stomping on the wooden floor as all eyes turned to his form. A few faces growing pale at the sight of the blue monstrosity in their presence. 

“Oh god, please no.” 

“Not again. Did Marco overwork himself last night?” 

“I hope he’s just messing with us here.” 

Yes! They were trembling beneath his mighty form! Shake in fear tiny humans! He will show no mercy, and shall get his revenge! 

“Ok funky goose get your ass over here.” He squawked in shock when all of the sudden he was lifted from the ground. Long neck swinging back, and forth as he tried to find the source of this preposterous situation. Who dared remove him from his war path!? 

“Geez, I told you to get some rest earlier! When will you learn Marco?” Finally the phoenix’s head moved so he could stare his captor eye to eye. There was a man with strange brown hair styled up like a balloon, and the phoenix had the urge to nest within it as he stared. The human sighed, and then shook his head in disappointment. Hey! He should be pleased to be touching him! If anyone was supposed to be disappointed it should be the phoenix! He was just an ugly human after all! 

He screamed, and then began to nip at the offending hands. He will murder this human for his treason against the mighty phoenix! Hissing in joy when he saw a little blood come off the terrible human’s finger! 

“Geez Marco! Calm down. You're such a little shit when you go full bird.” Once the pain got too bad he released the furious ball of blue feathers. Watching with distaste as he strutted and screamed at all the watching eyes of their brothers. Though the phoenix had no idea these were his brothers at the moment in time. 

“Ok, where's the bird time out bag!?” Now the human had made a mistake at this point. He had turned his back to the phoenix! He shall enact his punishment for the human’s mistreatment of him! He slowly inched forward, neck elongated as he prepared himself for his attack. And then, he pounced. Nipping the man right on his butt before running in the opposite direction, and away from the angry yells of the strange balloon man. The man has felt his wrath, and he had no plans in stopping! Chirping happily as a few pirates flinched the moment he ran past them. Yes! He was god! 

“You should have seen me Deuce! The way I blasted that guy away!” The phoenix was pulled away by the sound of a new voice. Who was that? Now the phoenix normally could care less, but the moment he saw something shiny he decided it was all his business. 

He hissed, and then crouched down so he could expertly make his way to where the man was standing. Orange hat perched on his head that acted like a beacon for the bird. Then, in a blink of an eye he bursted forth. Grabbing a hold of the shiny dagger, and pulling with all his might. This was his dagger! HIS! The human should just give it up right now! 

“M-Marco!? What are you doing!? Hey! Let go!” No! Human should let go! Not the phoenix! This was his shiny now! With one last tug he pulled it off the guy’s hip, and ran with his treasure to a special secret spot. Or, better known as, behind a cluster of barrels that the phoenix now claimed as his nest. 

“Thatch! What's wrong with him!?” Nothing was wrong with phoenix! Phoenix was king! 

“Sometimes when he overworks himself he defaults to the natural bird brain of the phoenix. We don't know how that works, it just happens. He’ll be back to normal tomorrow at least.” Phoenix was normal! How dare this Thatch say otherwise! He sent a hiss in their direction, and glared as they just stared at him with tired eyes. “Well, hopefully he's his normal self tomorrow.” 

Everything seemed to have returned to some normalcy. Pirates running about, and the bright blue ball of feathers enjoying his spot away from it all. Beak chewing happily on the little diamonds as he basked in his new treasure. Yes, his shiny. He liked this shiny. Though now he wants more shinies. Enough shinies to populate his nest like a treasure wonderland. 

“Yoi!” He peeked his head out. Neck working like a telescope as he tried to spot his next victim. A few seemed to have noticed, and scurried away quickly to avoid the gaze of the terrible bird. Everyone knew to avoid Marco when he was like. All but the bird himself of course.

That's when he saw him, Deuce. The blue haired man leaning against a nearby railing and trying to scribble something within his tiny journal. To the Whitebeards it was a normal sight, but to the phoenix it was an opening. 

He flew up to the top of the barrels, and glared down the unsuspecting victim. The blue man had a shiny pen, and he wanted the shiny pen. With the confidence of a king he strutted across the deck. Eyes trained onto the only thing going through his tiny little walnut brain. He stopped, and stared up at the man. Not thinking for a second of what will even happen if he tried to take such a thing. 

“Yoi!” Quickly he jumped up, and grabbed the pen in between his beak. Wings flapping, and feathers flying all over the place as he secured his newest treasure. Yes! His shiny! His pen! His his his! 

“H-Hey! Give that back!” No! Give to him! He flapped his wings at him in a threatening way, and stomped his feet as a sign for the dumb human to back off! No one touches treasure once the phoenix has it! No siree! He claimed it! 

“Give it up. He isn't ever going to let that go now.” With a huff the bird made a run for it. Feet hitting the hard wood like a jackhammer as he made his way to hide the new wonder in his nest. Carefully tucking it next to the dagger with care, and practice. Cozy pen! Good pen! He liked this pen! He scratched the floor happily, and marked his territory so no other bird will dare to land in his vicinity. 

Now he just needed some nesting material. 

He left his cave. Neck swinging from side to side as he searched for precious soft materials to build upon. Only the best! Though he did not see any soft things. No fuzzies? He wanted fuzzies for nest! With an annoyed chortle he began to move deeper across the deck. Eyes on the lookout for the perfect piece, and wanting more than anything to build the best nest he possibly could. Bird was king! And king needed the best! 

While he was walking he had found himself within the dining hall. Its wooden walls, and floors giving it a monochromatic look that the bird did not care about whatsoever. Instead, he zoned completely on a nice sound that was wafting through the room. Singing? Not bird singing. Bird singing was better! Phoenix sang much better than human! 

He waddled to where the noise was, and peeked through a pair of double doors to see the weird hair human dancing about the kitchen. Singing a sea shanty, and preparing something on the stove that the phoenix couldn't discern. He didn't care what it was to exact, but it did smell nice. Yet, that isn't what had caught his attention the most. 

Eggs! There were eggs within the big box! Large, and white like ones the phoenix can eat and lay on. He wanted to lay on those eggs! His eggs! He wanted eggs! With a happy screech he ran to the box. Wings flapping as his eyes scanned each uniform little orb in wonder. He liked these eggs. Very good eggs! 

“Yoi yoi!” With lightning fast reflexes he grabbed an egg, and swallowed it whole. Very good egg! He shall grab more! 

“H-Hey! You put those down!” Thatch had finally noticed his little escapade, spoon in his hand waving about as he tried to force the annoying bird away from the merchandise. The phoenix just growled at him. Holding several eggs within his beak, and cheeks as he did so. How dare he! His eggs! “Drop them!” The man had lunged for him, but the bird easily dodged. Feathers now all over the kitchen floor, and tables. Marking so the world could see he was there. 

He bolted right away. Like a roadrunner getting away from a predator he was fast, and gone in a blink of an eye. Pride filled the bird as he escaped with his eggs without even a scratch on him. Yes! His eggs! With a happy chirp he gently dropped them next to his other treasures. The nest was starting to look good! Yes, good nest! Perfect for king! 

“Well! You're having a good time my son.” A shadow then swallowed the entire deck whole. Blocking the sun, and any source of light that the bird could make out. His feathers ruffling, and standing on their ends as instincts ran wild. Darkness meant storm, and storm was bad. Instead he found his feet dangling beneath him, and hands on his body. Out of everything he could have done he decided he was going to scream. 

“Yoooiii! YOI!” he kicked, and used his beak to nip at the offending hands that had trapped him. No one traps the phoenix! That is punishable by death! The bird only got angrier as the one imprisoning him refused to release his form. Only for him to stop in his tracks as a booming laughter shook him to his feathers. 

“I’m glad you still have your spirit Marco! That's my boy!” When the phoenix finally craned his long neck to see who could create such a noise he was in absolutely shock. That was a big human! Large crescent mustache, and giant face seemed like a predator to him. One big finger then reached down to pet the bird, causing a happy little chirp to reverberate in his throat. He liked this human! Good human! Big human can protect him! Very good servant! 

“Yoi!” He flapped his wings until he was finally placed down. Puffing out his chest, and glaring up at the large man that held his hostage. He can be good slave to the phoenix, but that did not mean he could touch him! No touching! 

“Alright alright. How about you go back to your nest.” The large finger patted him on the head again, and the bird just sent a nip his way in annoyance. No touching! Bad human! “I’m sorry, you never let your old man pet you though. Here, a little gift for my boy.” Something glittered in the corner of his eye, and when the boy turned he screamed in joy. Yes! A shiny! Golden treasure! 

“Yoi!” He grabbed the glittering ring with his beak, and waddled off to where his nest was starting to form. He had decided now he liked this human, but he will probably forget such a thing in a few minutes anyway. 

“Pops! Stop spoiling him! Now he’ll think it's ok to steal from us!” Bird ignored insignificant humans. Those humans were just slaves to the phoenix! Bird was better than them! 

“Now, making him happy doesn't hurt anyone.” He hurt all, and bird enjoyed it! All bow to him! A loud snore then snapped him away from his nest, and forced his neck to stare at a nearby body that had parked itself near his area. Bad human! He marked this territory! 

With an angry growl he stomped right up to the human. Orange hat over his eyes, and messy black hair all over the place. Bad human! Terrible human! The phoenix used his beak to nip at the boy’s skin, but instead found an incredible discovery. He was oozing a nice, comforting, heat. He rubbed his head against the man’s stomach, and purred in delight at the cozy feeling. Better than nest! Very safe, and nice! 

“Yoi!” He jumped up onto the man’s stomach, and walked in a few circles before settling down. Tucking his head into his wing as he cooed in delight. The warmth spreading throughout his body, and making his feathers tingle in joy. This human was nice, and he liked this human. And he was sure to not forget that this time.