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dee-writes-smut · 12 days

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Endless, Soulshattering Quiet (Eris Week Day Five)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x Tamlin Sister!Reader

SUMMARY What else are you expected to do when you lose your mate, the one person who kept you tethered and alive? Not try everything in your power to bring him back? Yeah right.

CONTENT WARNINGS angst, death, grief, graphic descriptions of pain, death, and wounds, sadness, loss, broken mating bonds, smut, war, tamlin being a good brother?, the holy trinity (angst, smut, fluff babies)

AUTHORS NOTE happy day five @erisweekofficial!!! I had the be the one person to serve some death content, did you really expect me not to with prompts like war and adventure? I promise that while I will rip your hearts out with soul-destroying angst, I will also make your legs cry with some yummy smut at the end ;)

The air was thick with smoke, a haze of ash and blood lingering over the battlefield as the war raged on. You stood at the edge of it all, your heart pounding in your chest, hands trembling.

Eris had always been a beacon of strength and resilience, but as you watched the battle unfold, a cold dread crept over you. You’d always known the risks, the dangers of loving someone so involved in war, but nothing could have prepared you for the sickening feeling that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.

He was out there.

Your mate was out there, somewhere in the fray, and every second that passed without seeing his familiar auburn hair or hearing his sharp, commanding voice felt like an eternity.

The war with Hybern had taken its toll on everyone. The Spring Court was crumbling under the weight of its losses, and yet you, Tamlin’s sister, had found solace in the most unlikely place—in Eris Vanserra. His love had been fierce, all-consuming, a fire that burned away your fears and melted the ice that had built up around your heart.

And now, that fire was out there, on the front lines, fighting for his life.

You were pacing the edges of the war camp, wringing your hands as you scanned the horizon for any sign of him. The hours dragged on, each one heavier than the last, and with each passing moment, the knot in your stomach tightened.

“Please,” you whispered, barely able to hear yourself over the chaos. “Please come back to me.”

And then, as if the gods themselves had heard your prayer, you saw him. His tall frame emerged from the smoke, his armor glinting under the pale sun as he moved through the wreckage. Your heart leapt into your throat as relief surged through your veins. He was alive.

You ran toward him, desperate to reach him, to feel his arms around you, to know that everything would be alright.

But before you could get to him, you saw it.

An arrow, dark and gleaming, soared through the air. It moved in slow motion, cutting through the fog of war with terrifying precision.

“Eris!” you screamed, your voice breaking as the arrow struck.

It hit him square in the chest.

He staggered back, his hand flying to the shaft lodged between his ribs. You could see the shock in his eyes as he looked down at the wound, his fingers stained with blood.

“No,” you breathed, your legs moving before your mind could catch up. “No, no, no.”

You sprinted toward him, your heart in your throat, the world around you fading into nothing but him. The noise of the battlefield was a distant hum, drowned out by the sound of your pulse thundering in your ears.

Eris fell to his knees, his body swaying as he struggled to stay upright. You caught him just as he collapsed, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, pulling him into your lap.

“Eris, please,” you begged, your voice trembling. “Stay with me. You can’t—” Your words choked off in your throat as you pressed your hand to the wound, blood seeping through your fingers. It was too much, far too much.

He looked up at you, his amber eyes dull with pain, but there was a soft smile on his lips, one that broke your heart into pieces. “You’re here,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, barely more than a breath.

You nodded frantically, tears blurring your vision as you cradled him closer. “I’m here, I’m right here,” you said, your hands trembling as you cupped his face. His skin was already growing cold, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. “You’re going to be okay, Eris. I promise, just stay with me. We’re going to get you out of here.”

But even as you said the words, you knew it was a lie. The wound was fatal. He wouldn’t survive this.

Eris’s hand found yours, his grip weak but steady as he brought your trembling fingers to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. “I love you,” he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face in these final moments.

“Don’t say that,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “You’re not—this isn’t goodbye. You’re going to make it. We’re going to get you home, I swear.”

But Eris only smiled, that soft, heartbreaking smile that shattered what was left of your resolve. “We were going to build a life,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “I wanted to give you everything.”

Tears streamed down your face, your body shaking as you held him closer, your hands gripping his armor as if you could anchor him to this world. “We still can,” you whispered, desperation clawing at your chest. “We still have time, Eris. Please, don’t leave me.”

His gaze softened, a flicker of sorrow passing through his amber eyes. “I’ll find you,” he promised, his voice barely audible now. “In the next life, I’ll find you. And we’ll have our time.”

You pressed your forehead to his, sobbing openly now as you felt his body growing heavier in your arms. His breaths were slowing, each one more labored than the last.

“Eris,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Please don’t go.”

The moment Eris's body fell limp in your arms, a horrible, soul-crushing realization slammed into you—he was gone.

A scream ripped from your throat, so raw and guttural that it tore through the chaos of the battlefield like a wild animal unleashed. It was the sound of pure agony, of a bond severed far too soon. The world seemed to hold its breath, soldiers pausing in the middle of the fight to glance your way as your voice echoed through the field. It was a sound unlike anything they’d ever heard—a wail that came from the deepest, darkest part of you, as if your very soul had been wrenched from your chest along with him.

The bond—your bond—shattered.

You felt it break as the last flicker of Eris's life faded. The once warm, golden thread that connected your souls was severed, leaving behind nothing but an aching void, so cold and hollow it made you want to scream again, to fill the unbearable silence with anything, anything but the emptiness.

But there was nothing. No warmth, no soft pulse of his love in the back of your mind. Only stillness. Only quiet.

The bond had been your secret—hidden from everyone, even from Tamlin, your own brother. No one knew, not the Vanserras, not your court, not anyone. It had been your decision to protect each other, to keep what was precious hidden from the treacherous eyes of those who would ruin it. But now, now that Eris’s life had been snuffed out like a candle, there was no more hiding.

Your scream—the raw anguish that poured from your lips—told everyone. His soldiers, your brother’s men, they all knew.

Eyes turned toward you, and in that moment, the truth lay bare.

Eris Vanserra and Tamlin’s sister were mates. And now, he was gone.

A stunned hush fell over the battlefield, as if the world itself were mourning his loss, as if the gods had pressed pause on this wretched war just to bear witness to your grief.

You gripped his armor, fingers trembling as you rocked back and forth, refusing to let him go, the pain of the broken bond still coursing through your veins like poison. The silence stretched on, oppressive and suffocating, pressing down on your chest until you could hardly breathe. You had felt that bond, that beautiful, fragile connection, every single day since it had snapped into place. And now…now there was nothing but this dreadful, unending quiet.

As your sobs tore through the battlefield, the silence became too heavy to bear. From the edge of the fray, figures broke away from the lingering chaos, running toward you with a growing sense of urgency.

Tamlin was the first to reach you. His broad frame, usually exuding the power and strength of a High Lord, was trembling as he knelt beside you. "No..." he breathed, his voice barely audible. His green eyes were wide, horrified as they took in the sight of you cradling Eris's lifeless body, the truth settling over him like a crushing weight.

“No,” he whispered again, harsher this time. He reached out, his hand shaking, but he didn’t touch you. He couldn’t. The shock was too great, and his mind was spinning too fast. His gaze flickered from Eris’s bloodied chest to your tear-streaked face, the anguish there too much for him to comprehend.

Lucien arrived moments later, his steps faltering as he neared. The color drained from his face, his usually sharp eyes dulling in an instant as he saw his brother’s body lying in your arms. For a long, breathless moment, he stood frozen, his mouth opening as if to say something, but no words came out. His mind, too, was struggling to catch up, to process what he was seeing.

"Eris?" he rasped, his voice breaking. He dropped to his knees beside you, his shaking hands hovering over his brother’s chest, not daring to touch the body that had already gone cold. "Eris," he whispered again, and this time, it was a plea, a desperate cry to the gods. But the gods were silent.

His amber eyes, wide with disbelief, turned to you, searching for answers, for anything that would make this moment less real. “You…” he started, his voice thick with emotion. “You—” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. He could see it now, as clear as day. The bond between you and Eris, the love you had kept hidden. He had never known, never suspected.

Behind him, Rhysand approached. His violet eyes, always so calm and calculating, were filled with sorrow as he stepped into the circle of grief. He took in the scene—Tamlin’s horror, Lucien’s devastation, and your broken form holding onto Eris as if you could bring him back by sheer force of will.

Rhys knelt beside Lucien, his voice soft, steady. “He’s gone,” he said, the weight of those words hanging heavy in the air. His gaze flicked between you and the others, understanding dawning on him in the grim silence.

“You were mates,” he said, not as a question but a solemn acknowledgment of the truth no one had seen. His voice was gentle, full of quiet sympathy, but it still cut through the air like a knife.

Tamlin flinched, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. “Mates?” he whispered, his voice cracking with disbelief. His eyes searched yours, his face pale and stricken as the truth settled in. He had never known, never even imagined his sister could be bound to the eldest Vanserra. His breathing became ragged, fury and heartbreak warring within him as his hands clenched into fists.

You couldn’t respond, your throat too tight, your sobs too harsh. All you could do was hold Eris closer, pressing your face into his bloodied armor as if you could somehow protect what little remained of him.

Lucien finally found his voice, but it was hollow, broken. “Why didn’t you tell us?” His question came out as a whisper, the anguish in his tone raw and palpable. He stared at you, as if knowing might have made a difference, as if there was something he could’ve done to stop this.

But there had been nothing anyone could do. The war had taken Eris, and it had shattered you along with him.

Rhys placed a steady hand on Lucien’s shoulder, his own grief hidden behind a mask of calm. “There’s nothing we can do now,” he murmured. “He’s gone.”

The silence that followed was deafening. The bond was severed, and with it, the world felt quieter, darker, as if all the light had been extinguished.

You had kept it hidden, thinking you could protect your love by keeping it secret, by shielding it from the cruelty of the courts and the ugliness of politics. But in the end, it hadn’t been enough. Eris had still been taken from you, and now everyone knew.

And there was nothing left but the unbearable silence where the bond used to be.

After Eris's death, you returned to the Spring Court like a shell of yourself. The once vibrant halls of Tamlin's manor felt suffocating, their earthy charm now stifling and cold. Days passed in a blur, though you were hardly aware of them. You didn’t eat. You barely slept. You didn’t even speak. Each sunrise and sunset blurred together, an endless cycle of loss that dragged on without meaning. The bond was gone—ripped away as cruelly as the life of the man you had secretly loved. Without him, the world seemed to exist in muted, lifeless tones.

Your room became a prison, its four walls confining you to the agony of his absence. You’d spend hours just sitting by the window, staring at nothing, waiting for something that would never come back. Your body ached, not from hunger or fatigue, but from the cold void where the bond used to hum with life. It was as if the very air around you had turned to ash, choking the last flicker of light from your soul.

Tamlin came to your door every day, knocking softly, hoping that today would be the day you’d speak. He’d ask if you wanted to go for a walk, eat something, maybe even talk about what had happened. But you didn’t respond, not to him, not to anyone. His patience seemed infinite, but his heart was breaking watching his sister crumble into nothing before his eyes.

Lucien tried too. He’d sit beside your bed in silence, sometimes telling you stories of their childhood, hoping that memories of a better time might pull you from the darkness. But you never reacted, your gaze never shifted. You were simply... gone.

The silence stretched for weeks.

No one could reach you. Not even Tamlin, who had always been your protector. He was the one who held you after the battle, the one who shielded you from the harsh stares of the court as they discovered the truth of your bond with Eris. The one who should’ve been the first to know about your love but only found out when it was already too late.

Now, he watched helplessly as you withered, your once vibrant spirit consumed by grief. He saw the way you flinched at the sound of footsteps outside your door, the way your body seemed to curl in on itself as though you could shut out the world entirely.

One evening, Lucien and Tamlin spoke in hushed tones in the hallway, their voices barely audible through the thick door. You didn’t need to hear their words to know they were talking about you, about how you were slipping further away with each passing day. How your silence had grown more unbearable than any scream or cry could have been.

But then, Tamlin said something that cut through the haze, something that stirred the faintest ember within your hollow chest.

“There might be a way to bring him back.”

Your heart, once heavy and lifeless, gave the faintest flutter. You barely heard Lucien’s response, but the idea—bring him back—echoed through your mind like a bell tolling in the distance. For the first time since Eris’s death, something stirred deep within you. A flicker of hope, small and fragile, but enough to push you to move.

The next day, for the first time in weeks, you left your room.

The sunlight seemed too bright, too warm on your skin after being confined in darkness for so long, but it didn’t matter. Tamlin and Lucien were waiting, their faces a mix of relief and caution as you slowly descended the staircase.

“Tell me,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from disuse. Tamlin blinked, shocked to hear you speak, but quickly regained his composure.

“There’s a place,” Tamlin said, his tone hesitant but certain. “In the Autumn Court. The Ember Grove. It’s dangerous—nearly impossible to find—but if anyone can reach it, you can.”

“You knew this?!” You approached, stopping abruptly before him, your body trembling with the effort as anger surged through your veins. “You knew there was a chance, and you didn’t tell me?!”

“I didn’t—” Tamlin started, his own frustration bubbling to the surface as he tried to reason with you. “It’s not that simple. The Ember Grove—it's dangerous. The magic is wild and uncontrollable. It could kill you. I didn’t want to give you false hope, not when—”

“When what?” You spat, your voice rising as you advanced toward him. “When I’ve already lost everything? When I’ve spent weeks trapped in this hell, barely able to breathe without him? And you knew? You knew there might be a way and you didn’t tell me?”

Tamlin’s jaw tightened, his heart breaking at the sight of you unraveling. “I didn’t want to lose you, too.”

“You already have!” you shouted, the sound of your voice reverberating through the room. “I’m already gone, Tamlin. I have been since the moment I felt that bond go silent. You can’t lose something that’s already dead.”

The room was heavy with your words, and Tamlin could only stand there, helpless in the face of your grief and fury. He wanted to tell you how much he understood, how much he hated that you’d been forced to hide your love, how much he wished things could be different. But nothing he said could change the past.

Instead, it was Lucien who stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. “We didn’t know how to tell you. It’s not that we didn’t want to help. We were just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” You laughed bitterly, the sound harsh in the air. “There’s nothing left to protect. All that’s left is this emptiness, this nothingness. I’m done protecting myself. If there’s a chance, no matter the risk, I’ll take it.”

Tamlin’s gaze softened, but the worry remained. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. The Ember Grove... it’s not just dangerous. The trials you’ll face—if you even make it to the heart of the grove—will test you in ways you can’t imagine.”

“I don’t care.” Your voice was cold, final. “Tell me where it is.”

In the heart of the Autumn Court’s oldest woods, there exists a place forgotten by most, spoken of only in whispers: The Ember Grove. It is said to be where the first Vanserras were blessed by the forest, where the very essence of the Autumn Court’s power—fire, rebirth, and renewal—originated. According to legend, within this grove lies a single, sacred tree, its bark glowing faintly with embers, its roots entwined with the magic of the land. The tree is said to possess the power to reignite life, but only for those bound by fate and blood.

The spell that will bring Eris back is not without a cost—it demands something of equal worth. Lucien tells you that the ritual involves binding your magic to the land and using the remnants of your bond as a tether to call his spirit back. It is said that the magic of the grove will only grant him life for one willing to take on his pain.

To bring Eris back, you must willingly take his death wound into yourself, allowing his body to heal while you endure the agony of the blow that killed him.

The journey to the Ember Grove was a grueling test from the very start. It began in the outskirts of the Autumn Court, where the forest thickened into a dark, twisted mass of trees. The air was different here—heavier, older, carrying the weight of a thousand forgotten spells. The ground beneath your feet felt unstable, as though the forest itself was alive and shifting, watching your every move.

As you ventured deeper, the forest closed in around you, the trees towering over you like silent sentinels, their bark blackened and gnarled. Shadows danced between the branches, and you swore you could hear whispers on the wind, voices long lost to time. The deeper you went, the more the magic thickened in the air, pressing down on you, making it harder to breathe.

The first trial came when you reached the river. Its waters were still, unnaturally so, and dark as ink. You had to cross it, but as soon as you dipped a toe into the water, icy tendrils shot up from the depths, wrapping around your ankles and dragging you under. The cold was paralyzing, your lungs burning for air as you fought to break free, but the river wanted you. It wanted your despair, your grief, your soul.

The only way out was to let go of the weight that had been dragging you down since Eris’s death. You had to release it, had to believe that he could be saved, that you could find him again. And only when you surrendered your fear did the icy grip release, letting you stumble onto the other side, soaked and shaking but alive.

The next trial was worse. As you climbed a steep hill, the air around you shifted, the forest blurring until you found yourself standing in the Autumn Court’s battlefield once more. But this time, you weren’t a bystander—you were forced to watch Eris die over and over again. Each time more brutal than the last. Each time more hopeless.

You screamed, fell to your knees, your hands clenching the earth as you watched the love of your life be torn away from you in every conceivable way. It was torture, pure and relentless. But you couldn’t leave. You couldn’t look away, because this was the trial—you had to endure the worst of your memories, had to confront your greatest fear.

And you did. For him.

It wasn’t until you reached the heart of the Ember Grove that the forest finally relented. The trees parted, revealing the fiery glow of the Ember Tree. Its bark shimmered with a heat that radiated across the clearing, and the air buzzed with a magic so intense it felt like it was burning through your skin.

You knelt before it, your body broken and battered from the trials, but your heart resolute. You whispered the ancient spell, the words foreign on your tongue, but you could feel the magic stirring beneath your feet, responding to your call.

The ground shifted, embers rising from the earth to swirl around you, and the fire consumed everything in its path. But you didn’t flinch. You welcomed the burn, the pain, because you knew what it meant—knew that with each passing second, you were closer to bringing him back.

You remained kneeling in front of the ancient, burning tree, its embers swirling faster and faster, drawn to the words you chanted in the old tongue.

You didn’t know what you were saying—only that the magic was speaking through you, commanding the earth and air, fire and spirit to bring him back. Each word felt like it was being torn from your chest, heavy with power, with longing, with desperation. The glow of the tree grew brighter, casting the entire clearing in an eerie orange light. The embers, once slow and floating, began whipping around like sparks from a fire, encircling you and the tree in a whirlwind of heat.

Your voice grew raw, your throat aching as the spell neared its end. The ground beneath you trembled, and with a final, guttural cry, you spoke the last word. The ritual had taken everything from you—every ounce of your strength, every fragment of your soul. But that final step, the one that had required you to bear the agony of Eris’s death wound—it had nearly broken you.

The Ember Tree had demanded a sacrifice, and when you pressed your hand to its scorched bark, you had felt the cold grip of death itself wrap around your heart.

The arrow that had impaled Eris, the one that had severed his life from yours, had been remade—plunging through your body with such force, it felt like the air had been stolen from your lungs. You could feel the cold metal tearing through your skin, ripping through flesh and bone as if you had been the one on the battlefield that day. The pain was indescribable—a burning, crushing weight that threatened to drag you under, to take you into the dark with him.

But through the haze of agony, something changed.

The bond.

It had been a dead thing since the day Eris had fallen—quiet, silent, a gaping void in your chest that had left you cold and hollow. But now, now it was flaring back to life. Slowly, at first, a faint spark, but then—then it grew. Warmth spread through your body, threading through the pain, pushing back against the darkness.

And then, you felt it. Him.

The embers began to stir at your feet, swirling in the air, weaving together in the space before you. With each pulse of the bond, you felt his life tethering itself back to you, stronger and stronger with every beat. The ember-born winds gathered in front of you, twisting and turning, building him back from nothing.

You watched, breathless, as the fire coalesced into the outline of a man, a figure you had memorized in every stolen moment you’d shared.

First, his hair formed—the familiar fiery strands that had once caught the sunlight so beautifully, and then his shoulders, broad and powerful, the ones you had buried your face into when the world had been too much. His chest came next, rising and falling with the shallowest of breaths, his heart beating in time with yours. You felt the bond solidify in your chest as the embers continued to craft him, filling the gaping hole inside of you as it mended itself.

Then came the details—the intimate, tiny pieces of him you knew better than your own skin. The freckles. You leaned in, your breath trembling as you watched them appear on his pale skin, one by one. There was the cluster just below his collarbone, the one you had kissed so many times it felt like yours. Your eyes traced the path of them across his body—scattered over his shoulders, across his back.

Your gaze drifted lower, and there it was—the small mole on his right ring finger, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. You had kissed it once, tracing the curve of his hand as you lay beside him. Now, seeing it remade before your eyes, you couldn’t hold back the sob that rose in your throat.

His hands, those calloused, warm hands that had held you so tightly, now twitched with life, his fingers curling slightly. You could see the lines of his palms, each crease and scar, familiar and so achingly beautiful in their imperfection.

The embers worked their way over his face, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the faint stubble that you had once teased him about. And then his lips—soft, full, and slightly parted as they took in the first breaths of his new life. You could already feel them against your skin, the ghost of a kiss that hadn’t yet been given.

Finally, his eyes. Those brilliant amber eyes, the ones that held a thousand secrets, a thousand promises. Slowly, they opened, and when they met yours, the bond flared so violently it nearly brought you to your knees. It wasn’t just his presence you felt—it was his soul, his essence wrapping around you, filling you up until there was nothing but him.

“Eris,” you breathed, your voice trembling, tears streaming down your face as you looked into those eyes, the ones you thought you’d never see again.

He blinked, disoriented, but then recognition flooded his features. His lips moved, but no words came out—just a breath, a small, shaky exhale as his hand lifted weakly toward you.

You didn’t hesitate. You surged forward, pressing your body against his, needing to feel him—his warmth, his heart, his life.

His arms, though still weak, wrapped around you, pulling you into him. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It was real. He was real.

“I thought I lost you,” you sobbed, clutching him tightly. “I thought I’d never—”

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice raw and broken. His hand cupped the back of your head, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’m here.”

You weren't able to walk after to ritual, body too weak from the stress of the powerful magic that you channeled to summon him to do much else than cling to him. You had wanted to stay there, to not move as you memorized every part of him once more just to be sure, but Eris was insistent on getting out of the oppressing weight of the forest, carrying you to an abandoned cabin just outside the powerful barrier of magic.

The cabin was old, forgotten by time, its walls weathered by countless storms and its windows fogged over with dust. It wasn’t much—a single room with a fireplace, a rickety table, and a bed that had seen better days. But it was shelter, a place to breathe after the chaos of the ritual.

Eris had carried you inside, his steps slow and measured, the weight of his new body still settling into place. You hadn’t let go of him since the ritual, your fingers gripping his tunic as if he might disappear if you loosened your hold. You couldn’t stop touching him—running your hands over his chest, his arms, up to his face, memorizing the feel of him, grounding yourself in his warmth.

The bond between you was fierce now, stronger than it had ever been, pulsing with each heartbeat as if reminding you both that he was alive—that he was here.

But even that didn’t calm the frantic desperation inside of you.

He sat you on the edge of the bed, gently prying your hands from his tunic as he knelt in front of you, his amber eyes soft with understanding. He hadn’t said much since the ritual—he didn’t need to. The bond conveyed everything, every flicker of emotion, every unspoken thought.

The air in the cabin felt too thick to breathe, the quiet too loud, like the entire world had been reduced to this moment, this space, and the man kneeling before you. The flickering light from the fire cast soft shadows across his face, illuminating the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the determined set of his jaw, and the unmistakable intensity in his amber eyes.

Eris was calm—too calm—as if he hadn't just been ripped from death and thrust back into life. As if he didn’t understand that every beat of your heart now felt like a miracle, that the bond between you was buzzing with a newfound ferocity, pulling you toward him like a gravitational force you couldn’t resist. But it was more than that. It was the fear still clinging to the edges of your mind, the terror of almost losing him. You had lost him, and now that he was back, you couldn’t bear the thought of letting him slip away again, not even for a second.

You’d spent days—weeks—since his death barely surviving, barely feeling. But now, every emotion, every sensation was alive, almost too intense to bear, and it all centered around him.

“I need you,” you whispered again, the words slipping from your lips like a prayer. “I need to feel you, Eris. Please.”

He stood up slowly, unfolding himself with that familiar, unhurried grace, and took your trembling hands in his. His fingers, warm and steady, threaded through yours, grounding you in his presence as he pulled you to your feet. Even with the weight of your desperation pressing against him, he moved with patience, every touch soft, like he knew exactly how fragile you felt.

“You’ve had me for years,” he murmured, his voice a low hum that vibrated through your bones. “I’ve never left you.”

But you did, the thought screamed in your head. You died. You left me. You were gone.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight as the storm of emotions raged inside you. He didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—what it had been like without him. The bond, once so vibrant and alive, had gone utterly silent the moment he was taken from you, and the pain of that void had been unbearable, suffocating. And now? Now it was back, fierce and unyielding, and you couldn’t handle the thought of it going quiet again.

The fire crackled softly, but the world seemed to shrink, the cabin feeling smaller as you stood before him, your hands gripping his tunic again, pulling him closer, needing the warmth of him pressed against you. The desperation clawed at you, making it hard to breathe, and the only thing that felt real, that felt solid, was him.

“I need more than words,” you said, voice trembling, your nails digging slightly into his skin as you spoke. “I need to feel you. I need to know you're here. Truly here, with me.”

He inhaled slowly, the flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. The warmth of his body seeped into you, and for a moment, you could almost imagine it was enough—almost. But it wasn't. His arms alone weren't enough to silence the fear inside you, weren't enough to quench the wildfire of need roaring through your veins. You needed to be closer, to make sure that every part of him was still real.

You pressed against him more urgently, your hands fisting the fabric of his tunic as if you could pull him closer by sheer force of will. “Please, Eris,” you begged, the words a breathless whisper against his neck. “Don’t make me wait. Not after everything.”

For the first time, you saw a crack in his resolve—a flicker of heat in his gaze as he looked down at you. The control he always held so tightly began to fray at the edges, his breath hitching ever so slightly as his thumb traced along your jaw, down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth that made your pulse quicken.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, his voice huskier now, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, his fingers curling into your hair. “For me to give in?”

You nodded, unable to form words as the bond between you thrummed with the intensity of your need. The bond flared, every beat of your heart echoing in his chest, every shuddering breath mirrored between you. It was like a lifeline, tethering you both together, pulling you closer until the space between you disappeared.

He studied you for a moment longer, his amber eyes darkening as he searched your face, as if weighing the gravity of what you were asking. Then, with a soft exhale, he leaned down, capturing your mouth with his in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

The kiss was consuming, a fierce and unrelenting thing that stole the breath from your lungs and left you gasping. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that matched your own, the calm control he’d maintained for so long finally giving way to the fire simmering beneath the surface. He kissed you like he was trying to burn away the last remnants of death, to remind you that he was alive—that you both were.

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened, as his tongue slid against yours, tasting, claiming. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, your fingers desperate as you clung to him, trying to bridge the gap that still felt too wide. You wanted to lose yourself in him, to drown in the sensation of his lips, his touch, his presence.

But it still wasn’t enough.

You pulled back, breathless, your lips tingling from the intensity of the kiss, and looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Please,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible. “I need all of you.”

For a heartbeat, he hesitated, his gaze locked on yours, as if he could sense just how much you needed this—needed him. Then, with a soft growl, he scooped you into his arms and carried you toward the bed, the soft, worn mattress creaking under your weight as he laid down.

You straddled Eris's lap, his body now fully alive beneath yours, the familiar warmth of him grounding you after the terrifying emptiness of his absence. As you sank down onto him, the sensation was both a relief and a reminder—he was here, with you, alive. The pressure of him inside you was overwhelming, but in the best possible way, as if it was the only thing tethering you to the earth. Each movement sent shivers down your spine, the desperation of lost time making everything more intense, more vivid.

Your hands roamed over his chest, fingers trembling as you felt his heartbeat strong beneath your palm. The reality of him alive, warm, and solid beneath you made your breath catch in your throat. "Eris," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion, "I thought I’d lost you."

His gaze met yours, filled with the same mix of emotions—relief, hunger, and something deeper, something that words couldn't quite capture. "I’m here, love" he murmured, his hands coming up to cup your hips, steadying you as you rocked against him. His voice, roughened by the strain of all that had happened, held a promise in it. "I’m not going anywhere."

His grip tightened, and his hips met yours in a steady, unhurried rhythm, each thrust a reassurance that he was real, that you had brought him back. "I feel you," you breathed, leaning forward, your lips brushing against his neck. "You’re alive, Eris. I need this, I need you."

Eris’s response was a low, guttural sound, his hands sliding up your back with both a tenderness and a hunger that mirrored your own. “I need you too,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I never stopped wanting you. Even then... I was holding onto you.”

The words sent a rush of heat through your body, the weight of what he was saying settling deep in your chest. Your movements became more urgent, the need to feel him, all of him, consuming you. You pressed yourself closer to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you began to ride him faster, desperate to close the gap between what had been and what was now.

"Don’t stop," you gasped, your voice shaking with a mix of pleasure and emotion. "I need all of you. I need to feel every part of you, Eris."

He groaned, the sound raw and full of need, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he pulled you down onto him. “You have me,” he rasped, his eyes never leaving yours. “Every part of me is yours.”

The rhythm between you grew more intense, the fire in the hearth forgotten as the heat between your bodies took over. The feeling of him inside you, of the way he moved with you, was everything—proof that you had him back, that he was yours. His lips brushed your skin, the warmth of his breath sending shivers through you as he whispered, “I’m not letting go of you again. I swear it.”

You clenched around him, the pleasure building to a crescendo as his hands roamed over your body, guiding you, grounding you. "I love you," you gasped, the words slipping out as you lost yourself in the rhythm, in him.

Eris’s eyes darkened, his grip on you tightening as he thrust deeper, harder, his voice strained with both pleasure and emotion. "I love you too. Always." The intensity of his words was matched by the force of his movements, his body answering your every need, your every desire.

When the release finally came, it washed over you like a wave, pulling you under as your body trembled against his. Eris followed soon after, his groan low and rough as he buried himself inside you one last time, his grip on you never faltering.

In the quiet that followed, you collapsed against him, your head resting on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. His heart, steady and strong beneath your ear, was a reminder that he was here, that you had brought him back.

ERIS WEEK TAGLIST

@littlest-w01f @mp-littlebit

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icycoldninja · 3 months

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hey hey, love your writing a lot, first time ever requesting anything 😅 i thought reader comforting the DMC boys after a nightmare might be nice, those poor lil guys have gone through so much and i just wanna care for em

So do I 🥲

Sparda boys + V x Reader nightmare comfort headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante had another one of those awful nightmares where he relives every single traumatic incident that has ever taken place in his life all in one night.

-The loss of his mother, the supposed loss of his brother, the battle he had to have with his previously assumed dead brother, losing his brother again, etc., etc.

-It's honestly no surprise that he woke up screaming, covered in sweat and shaking like a leaf.

-You were immediately up and at his side, rubbing away the sleep in your eyes and wrapping the scared man up in your arms, resting your head against his shoulder and soothingly whispering to him that it was alright.

-Dante believed you, and melted into your embrace willingly, still shaken, but comforted in the fact that you were there for him.

-You ended up being the big spoon for the rest of the night, threading your fingers through his snowy white hair and assuring him you loved him, and that he was safe.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil had a really vivid dream of the day he lost his mother and presumably Dante, which wasn't all that surprising--these things happened nearly every night.

-Still, Vergil was scared. He hated the feeling of being so helpless and weak, forced to watch as his home burned down and demons ran him through with their swords. Everything hurt. Everything ached. All Vergil wanted was to wake up, and so he did.

-He rocketed upright, heart racing, forehead damp with sweat. He turned and saw you groggily rising from your nest of blankets and breathed a soft sigh of relief, glad that those tragedies hadn't happened all over again.

-Wordlessly, Vergil scooped you into his arms and mumbled a soft "it was nothing, good night" to silence your inquiries, assuring you he was fine, even if he actually wasn't.

-Whether you saw through his lies or not doesn't matter; Vergil will cling onto you tightly, as if you're his lifeline, shivering slightly as he does so.

-All he really wants is comfort from you, either verbally or non-verbally. Hold him, kiss him, tell him you love him, just ground him in reality and make him remember those dark times are in the past, that he's here now, and that he's safe.

□ Nero □

-Nero dreamed of being eaten alive by demons, not at all a pleasant experience, even if it wasn't real.

-The pain of being gnawed and chewed on was somehow so realistic, despite the fact that this whole scenario was dreamed up by Nero's imaginative mind.

-Just as Nero was sure he was dead, he woke up, gasping wildly for air. He opened his eyes and, seeing darkness, thought he really had been swallowed by a massive demon.

-Then you sat up and asked him what's wrong, reminding him that he was in his bedroom, and since you were there with him, everything must be fine.

-You then coax him into lying back down and wrap yourself around him, your head on his chest and your arms around his torso.

-Nero felt at ease with you cuddling up to him, so he was able to close his eyes and drift off to sleep again, this time having actually pleasant dreams.

● V ●

-V had dreamt of falling apart right in front of your eyes. He'd watched, helplessly, as you screamed and sobbed, clawing at his disintegrating form in a desperate attempt to save him, which you couldn't.

-He saw how watching him die broke you; as a result, he began to break down and cry as well. He hated seeing you like this--the last thing he wanted was to leave you behind in this horrible world.

-When he awoke, V didn't believe he was alive. He thought he'd just ventured into the afterlife and would be judged very soon.

-Then he saw your concerned face hovering over him, and thought he'd seen an angel. When you spoke, asking him if he was alright, V was sure he'd met an angel.

-He readily confessed what was troubling him, ending up crying into your shoulder at the end of this revelation. He was scared, shocked, and very sad, all at once. He needed you; needed to be with you, needed to be surrounded by you.

-This is how he falls back asleep, curled up in a ball and trapped in your warm embrace. V's never felt so safe.

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marbl3z · 11 months

Text

Xiao drabbles as I suffer from insomnia.

i really love Xiao, like. It's so much sometimes, I wanna write him but sometimes I start choking up on my words and everything becomes 10x more difficult, I'd possibly do everything I could to protect him. Like everyone has that one character they love more than love itself and for me that's Xiao.

Comfort drabble, SFW, romantic elements, established relationship. A bit of angst. Mention of death.

Xiao is sensitive, like in battle he doesn't think about being touched as much, but when it's you. Gently tracing his cheek with your thumb, your lips on his. The soft tug of your hand on his lithe waist, oh how his limbs turn to jelly and it takes everything in his power not to melt in your touch.

Xiao sometimes will go missing for days and it has always worried you, but you know it's okay, he's okay. You feel it on the breeze, the occasional butterfly leaf on your nightstand or sometimes a flower picked freshly from a field, it reminds you that he's alive.

When he comes back late, your reading in your bed, the overthinking had gotten too much for you and you decided sleeping wasn't an option anymore. He teleported in your room, nearly making you scream.

"Sorry.." he was the first to speak, you immediately could tell something was wrong... you sat up, climbing out of bed and opening your arms before him.

He didn't say much, just furrowed his eyebrows and closed his mournful eyes and basically melted in your arms. He knows he can't bring back his family, friends, things can't be the same as they once were. But, heavens knows he would do anything to bring them back.

"It'll be okay," you mumble against his ear, rubbing his back gently. He doesn't cry. You know of his karmic debt, how the memories of his family slain before his very eyes, how much torture and pain he has delt with.

"..."

"Xiao," you whisper against his head, hugging him close.

"hm."

"You've done so much for Liyue, my hero," you run your hands through his hair, he tenses. "Do you want to lay down for a little bit? I know you don't need to sleep, but your muscles are so tense.." he reluctantly agrees and lays with his head on your chest as you softly massage his shoulders.

Xiao will hold your hand as you sleep, watching your sleeping frame. Sometimes he'll reach over and brush your hair to the side and admire from his side of the bed. Other times he can't help but press a soft kiss on the back of your hand and then get embarrassed about it a few moments later.

His hearing is insane, he can hear anything and everything, like. Dude, you can't sneak up on him, he hears your steps, recognizes them immediately. You tried surprising him with a hug but it immediately backfired by him turning around mid lunge and he just gave you the most confused look of your entire life.

Sometimes though, you're lucky. He'd get lost in thought, his mind filled with memories of his family, wars he's been in, Lantern rite, etc. You wrapped your arms around his hips, your head on his shoulders, it snapped him back to reality in a instant.

"what were you thinking about?" You asked him.

"...memories," you didn't pry any further, only hugging him slightly tighter, he didn't mind it at all. He closed his eyes as his relaxes in your hold, his hand intertwined with yours.

"I asked them for Almond tofu for you,"

He rolls his eyes, "you didn't have to do that,".

"hm, but you've done so much," you blow into his ear which makes him shiver pleasantly. "Let me treat you to something lovely, yeah?"

He nods slowly.

He stares at the moon, longingly. His tired eyes blink slowly as his lip quivers. He hates getting to this point, he knows emotions are "human", as you like to call it. But it pains him, drains him of energy Everytime he does cry.

His heart feels as if it's shattering, the flashbacks of his brothers and sisters flood his mind, the domestic moments, pulling pranks, laughing with each other. Daydreaming of the future, oh, how he wishes he could've prevented their demises.

"I'll see you all within the stars once I have done my oath, my brothers and sisters..." he'll whisper to himself, clutching his polearm as a shooting star flies past.

He doesn't indulge himself in philosophies and legends of that humans, but he lets himself make a wish. He wishes, humans and adepti— won't suffer with the unbearable sins that he has to carry until his final breath. That night he teleports to the Inn, the warm, lively atmosphere long since died once the sun had set. It was quiet, you and the others were asleep in your respective rooms.

He appears in your room, watching you engulf yourself further into the soft blanket on the bed. You were having pleasant dreams, it calmed his heart and mind. He brushes your hair to the side, tucking it behind your ear. Pressing a soft kiss to your head, he debates joining beside you, just to lay there. There was no reason to sleep, but his muscles ached and he was afraid you would have a nightmare if he got too close.

I hope you enjoyed this, I enjoy writing for Xiao but I get too self conscious sometimes so I never post it.

#junesl1ght_#Genshin drabble #Xiao drabble #Xiao fluff #Xiao comfort #Xiao x reader #fluff #genshin fanfic #gn reader #xiao angst

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f1nalboys · 1 year

Text

Bedside Prayers - Lester Sinclair

Lester Sinclair x Fem!Reader

enjoy this dark little fic! icky yucky lester <3 check out the bo fic that follows the same overall premise hehe

WORD COUNT: 2079

WARNINGS: dark fic. heed the warnings fr <3 she/her pronouns used once, lester calls reader his girl, angst, whump fic basically, canon typical violence, dark!lester, emotional abuse, physical abuse, stockholm syndrome, reader wants to die and shocker that doesn't happen, threats of throat slitting, descriptions of previous wounds and violence from lester, reader is compared to prey, mentions of previous victims, mentions of the wax figures and bo's treatment of past victims, kidnapping, violence, no happy ending, dub-con at the end just to be safe though nothing happens? idk, proofread but im a little guy so i could've missed something.

The candles were almost out. You watched them from the corner of your eye, watching the slow drip of wax roll down the side, dropping onto the metal dish underneath it. In another world, on another day, with another person, this could be romantic. A cabin tucked away in the woods of Louisiana, a home cooked meal followed by drinks by the fire, slow and tender kisses, gentle and nervous touches. It was romantic, you had felt that stir of butterflies in your gut when he had held his glass of whiskey out to your lips and watched you swallow it, purring out about how good you had done, but it shouldn’t be.

Another ten minutes before the candle would melt, the nail that had been pushed into it falling, signifying your end. You were hoping, praying, you could distract him long enough to allow it to happen. You remembered your first night here, wrists and ankles bound to the creaky bed frame, the handmade quilt scratchy on your bruised and scratched flesh. “This,” Lester had said, looking over at you with a sick grin, the cut on his lip you had given him splitting open once more. “Is to tell me when it’s time for you to die. I don’t blow this candle out in time and it falls, I’ll slit your fucking throat right then and there. I’d treat me kindly if I were you.”

He had sat with you, staring at the candle as it burnt, only blowing it out when the nail had begun to dip and you had begun to cry, tugging at your restraints, begging for him not to kill you. He sat forwards, blowing out the flame and plucking the nail out before digging it into your skin, cutting and cauterizing the wound in the same second. “One day, sweetheart,” He said over the sound of your screaming. “You’ll wish you hadn’t begged to stay alive.”

Lester made good on the promise the first few weeks. He wasn’t mean, not as mean as he could’ve been, but he wasn’t nice. Each time he hurt you, he made sure to tell you that had he left you in that town with his brother you would’ve been fucked and killed, turned into one of those statues. “Dontcha get it? Being here, this is the best place for you. For you to be safe. You just gotta be good for me.” His words often directly opposed his actions and at times it was hard for your mind to understand.

How could he tell you that you were safe with him when he was the one hurting you? How could he tell you he loved you when his knife was sinking into your flesh, carving out his name, carving your will out of you, one thin piece of flesh at a time? How could he hurt you until you thought that he had pierced your lung with your rib and still whisper praise about how well you had taken his punishment in that voice of his and still get a weakened smile and those fucking butterflies?

Maybe he did love you, and maybe you really were safe here hidden away with him, but it had gotten to the point where you decided that safety and love weren’t worth it, not if it felt like this.

Nine more minutes.

“When do you think you’re gonna go into town again?” You ask, eyes moving away from the candle towards Lester, fingers tapping on your thigh to count the passing seconds to your possible escape. He stops whistling, turning around to look at you with a toothy smile. He was digging through his dresser drawer and you try to swallow back the annoyance at him messing up your hour and a half of work.

“Not sure, sweetheart,” He says, pulling out a pair of socks and closing the dresser drawer with his hip. “Why? You needin’ something?” He sits on the edge of the bed slipping the fabric onto his feet. It was getting colder, nearing winter, and you realize you’ve been here almost six months now and you suddenly feel sick.

It feels like just yesterday you had gotten into that truck with him, thanking him for being so kind to take you to the town your friends hadn’t come back from. He had given you a sly smile, a knowing one, and told you that it was his pleasure.

You shrug. “No, not really. Just wondering.”

“You tryin’ to get rid of me?”

“No, Lester, of course not.”

“Good,” He says, feet planting onto the ground but his wiry body twisting to face you. “Because I’d hate if you were. Haven’t had to use those ties in a long time, right?” He says it with a small laugh, as if he’s recalling something funny from your past together and not the reason for the scars covering your wrists and ankles. You force a smile, knowing that frowning or, god forbid, voicing your dislike would result in a punishment.

He hadn’t had to punish you in a few months and reminded you of that fact every chance he got. When his lips were on your neck, he’d let his tongue swipe over the thin scar that dragged from the base of your neck down to your shoulder, so gentle unlike the sharpness of the blade he had used to make it. Sometimes, late at night when he couldn’t sleep, he’d drag his fingers down your bare skin and point out each little nick he had given you, recalling what you had done to deserve it.

Dropping and breaking his coffee cup resulted in the scar on the palm of your hand he had created with the shards. Scratching at him in the car when he tried to kiss you for the first time resulted in the cut by your lip where he had headbutted you. Trying to find a way to leave the first night he hadn’t tied you to the bed resulted in the thick straight scar on your side from his knife.

The ones he left on your heart, your soul, your will to live and to fight were always left ignored, buried underneath his praise and covered in cobwebs, only bothered on those late nights you were able to really think about them.

Seven minutes. “Don’t want that,” You finally say and he chuckles, standing up and walking into the bathroom that was connected to the bedroom. Sparing a glance at the candle, fingers twitching with anxiety, you try to keep the conversation going. “What kind of shampoo did you get me last time?”

“Uhm, let me check…” Silence for a second and then he’s saying the brand and you nod as if you cared. “I like that one. I’m almost out, so I think I might need more of that. Do you think they have a matching conditioner?”

You can hear him flush the toilet and then the tap running before he answers. “Not sure, sugar. I’ll keep an eye out for it, maybe ask Bo if he’s got any lyin’ around. You know, you sure are chatty tonight.” You freeze. It’s true; normally you abided by the rule of only speaking when spoken too, always afraid of saying the wrong thing to him. “I like it. Glad you’re finally settlin’ in, sugar.”

He’s brushing his teeth now and there’s still three more minutes and it only takes him a minute and a half to brush his teeth, another half a minute to get into bed and twenty three seconds to blow out the flame and pluck out the nail out the candle and your coffin. You try to wrack your brain for something, anything, that could distract him for just a little bit longer, the sink running, taking any plausible idea down the drain with the murky water.

“I think I love you.” It tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it and you try to ignore the small sliver of truth in it, instead focusing on your fingers tapping into your leg, trying not to speed up or slow down, the seconds feeling like they were purposely digging their nails into the ground to hold on just a little bit longer. Lester stands in the doorway of the bathroom, mouth dropped open and eyebrows halfway hidden by his hair. If your heart wasn’t hammering out of your chest, you might have laughed.

He says nothing, just walks towards you and crawls into bed, swinging his leg over yours, trapping you under him. Lester’s hands are on the headboard beside your head, planted firm, and his eyes are wild and crazy. They remind you of what he looked like after a good hunt, when he’d come home with a wild animal strapped to a rope, thrown over his shoulder. You were the prey and he had caught you.

“Yeah? You’re in love with me, sugar?” He asks lowly and the room is getting dimmer and dimmer as the flame gets lower. You nod your head. Only thirty seconds left before your release. He grins wildly, leaning down and kissing you, tongue slipping into your mouth. He tastes like toothpaste and dip, a combination you have gotten used to these last few months, had even begun to crave in your time apart in some sort of sick need for the connection.

You kiss back. His right hand leaves the headboard and rests onto your neck and there it is. Clink. The two of you pull apart and look over to the side table, the candle wick low enough to almost be engulfed by the wax. The nail had fallen. Lester huffs, letting go of your neck and moving off of the bed. “Damn thing,” He mutters, blowing the candle out. “Now, let’s get back to it.”

“But… the nail fell out.”

“Yeah, it did. So?”

“I thought… when it fell out you would…” Even in the darkness, you can see his face shift, understanding. Your heart is hammering out of your chest when he nods. He’s silent. You watch as he walks over to the dresser where his Bowie knife laid in its sheath and he pulls it out and your heart is soaring and you smile, really smile, for the first time since you’ve been here.

You can see him hold the knife in his hands, slowly turning it as if it were new, as if he hadn’t seen it, as if he hadn’t used it, as if he hadn’t killed with it. Lester turns around, holds the knife in his right hand at his waist, and walks over, eyes staring daggers into your own. You wait. You wait as he crawls into the bed, taking the position he had just been in, leg thrown over yours and free hand on the headboard.

He raises the knife, placing the serrated blade against your throat, gently. Teasingly. “Thought that I’d slit your pretty little throat, right?” He asks, voice low, breathy. You stare him in the eyes. You wonder how many other people had been in this position before you, wonder how many lives had been cut short with this very knife in this very bed by this very man.

The thought of it used to make you sick, would send panic ripping through your gut. Now all it did was bring you a sick sense of peace knowing you would join them. You nod.

Lester grins, digging the blade in just a little harder and you swallow, the nick of the knife sending a sharp pain through your neck. “That was the plan,” He hums and you close your eyes, waiting for the blade to dig in deeper, for him to pull the knife across the thin flesh of your neck and cut you open. It doesn’t come. “Good thing you’re in love with me.”

“What?” Your eyes pop open as the knife is removed, tossed away somewhere behind him, the dull thud of it hitting the hardwood floor making you jump.

“You didn’t really think I was ever gonna kill you, did you, sugar?” He tsks, shaking his head, knife-free hand dragging a finger down your cheek. It hurts just the same as if he had cut you. “Can’t kill the girl I love now that she loves me, now can I?” When he kisses you, you kiss back.

It’s the closest thing to death you can get to now.

#f1nalboys works #f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x you #slasher #slasher x reader #slasher x you #lester sinclair x y/n #slasher x y/n #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #how 2005

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marvel-starwarsfangirl · 5 months

Text

Ep. 14 "Flash Strike" Review

Wow this is way late. First off, I loved the animation and it looked genuinely real at times. TBB is to date the best looking animated show (not counting the "Tales" shorts). Those jungle shots were stunning. And the music! The music in the beginning was epic and it got my heart racing.

Spoilers below just in case

Rampart is just the gift that keeps on giving. Seriously, what was that scream? I was dying laughing 😂. He once again provides the comedy in these dire hours. However, his conversation with Crosshair was intense. I've already covered it, but basically: Rampart doesn't understand how some people can change. And ofc he was the one to mess everything up. Classic Rampart. Also, please Cross, you don't have to prove anything to Rampart. I get you're concerned that the man vanished, but the loser can take care of himself.

I did love watching the brothers fight side by side as usual. When Wrecker got thrown by the dryax, my heart melted when Cross and Hunter immediately went over to help him up. Also, y'all notice that the slice went all the way to Wrecker's skin? That was chilling. I hope Wrecker will be ok. I did love Crosshair's convo with Wrecker. Yes, he's scared and internally having several mental breakdowns, but he's doing it for Omega. He loves her more than anything. When he says he "owes her," it's his way of telling Wrecker that. Cross has never been one to be openly emotional about things. His actions show where his heart truly lies.

Omega was incredible this episode. Her "they found me... my brothers" just hit the spot. She knows that they will always come for her and will fight through hell and back for her. That's the level of love and trust she has with them. Also shoutout for her leadership skills and sneaking skills. Omega has grown so much and the impact of her brothers on her is so noticeable. You know the moment she sees the Zillo, she's got a plan cooking.

Hemlock isn't an idiot? Villain being competent? Well, that's both satisfying and scary.

ECHO!!!! Sweet Echo back at it, serving us with peak Arc Trooper content. Seriously, I love him so much! I also love how he now looks like Fives and the rest of his OG squad. The last Domino is carrying the banner with pride (he's fine relax 🙃). His convo with Emerie was golden. He's come so far since reciting the reg handbook back to his brothers word-by-word. There is so much meaning behind Echo telling Emerie that following orders blindly isn't the right thing to do. It might be Emerie's job, but it's putting the lives of others at stake. It's wrong. And having it be Echo who tells her that is so important. Crosshair fits better as Rampart's narrative foil due to the imperial past and prison sessions. But Echo being Emerie's narrative foil is incredible. Echo is such a beautiful person inside and out. He better make it out alive.

Anyways, I can't wait to cry with y'all on Wednesday. See you then!

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb rampart #tbb hemlock #tbb spoilers

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countryclubkook · 1 year

Text

Him Or Me Pt.2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Thornton!Reader

Warnings: language, death, drugs, alcohol, toxic Rafe, spoilers for obx 2, angst, slight sexual innuendo at the end

A/N: the long awaited part 2 is finally here, it took me forever to write and i’m still not happy with it so there’s a very good chance i’ll delete this and end up redoing it but in the meantime I hope it’ll suffice. Writers block is truly the worst thing in the world, I hope I did the first part justice in this and hope you all enjoy. The timeline in this is a bit different than the one on obx for story sake!

A few weeks had passed since everything with Topper went down and to say shit had escalated was putting it lightly. Everything was much more intense and you didn’t know if you were going to make it out alive by the end of this all.

John B had killed the sheriff according to everyone in town and had a massive search team looking to bring him in. This only backfired completely when he and Sarah drove their boat straight into the storm and presumably died trying to escape by going towards the storm. That’s what you believed until you overheard Ward and Rafe talking about what Rafe did and how he was the one to kill Sheriff Peterkim, you were sick to your stomach at the thought of the same hands that held you at night being responsible for taking away someone’s life and stumbled back into your room before throwing up into the trash can.

“Baby? Fuck are you okay?!” Rafe rushed to your side to hold your hair back and watched in confusion as you smacked his hand away. The look of pure fear in your eyes and face told him that you heard the conversation. You knew the truth and you were scared of him.

“You killed her Rafe, you framed John B! What the hell is wrong with you?” you screamed at him while backing into the corner wanting to be as far away from him as possible.

“Hey!” he watched you flinch and immediately regretted it “i'm sorry for yelling at you, but you gave me no choice. You didn’t ask me why I did it, you act like I'm some kind psycho killer when I'm not okay? I was protecting my dad just like I protected you when your brother was doing all that shit to hurt you” he watched you grimace at the memory before he continued, “I couldn’t let her hurt my dad and now he’s safe because of me. Sarah is gone and this is my chance to step up and make him proud. Don’t you want him to be proud of me and for us to be a happy family baby?” he cocked his head to the side and slowly walked to where you were before crouching so he was eye level with you.

“Well, of course I do Rafe but you still-“ his hand moved to squeeze the side of your face, not too rough, just enough to make you stop talking.

“I saved him, I saved us baby. If my dad died, we wouldn’t be together right now. You would be alone again, I did this for us” he sounded so sincere and you wanted to believe him so bad.

“Tell me what happened, why you felt the only choice you had was to kill her” he had you where he wanted.

“She was going to shoot him, said he killed John B’s dad with no proof other than a compass and something those fucking pogues said. He would have died over something that wasn’t even true” his eyes welled up and you couldn’t help but bring your hand to the side of his face watching him instantly melt into your touch.

“Do you believe me baby? Please tell me you do, I don’t want to lose you, I can’t lose you”

The next words spilled out of your mouth before you could even think about what you were just told, “I believe you. I’m so sorry I didn’t Rafe, I'm just scared. You’re the only person I have left”

“I know baby, i’m not going anywhere. I fucking love you” he said before pulling you into a kiss.

That conversation with Rafe happened almost a month ago now and your relationship had taken a turn for the worst. What once was a perfect relationship full of love and a man that would do anything to protect you had turned into a toxic relationship full of pain from a man that grew to be a stranger to you. The arguments became more frequent and he was becoming more and more unhinged as each day passed by, his father only adding on to it all. It was like walking on eggshells around him 24/7 and you hated it, you were alone even when Rafe was right there because talking to him only ended in screaming matches or him being too high and wanting a quick fuck to distract him from whatever the hell happened that day. Topper still wanted nothing to do with you, anytime he happened to see you at the country club he’d quickly turn away and leave. But you couldn’t blame him, he warned you and you chose Rafe over him, your own brother.

One night you decided you’d had enough, Rafe was off doing god knows what all the time and getting high more frequently and it was exhausting. You decided you were going to talk to him about it tonight and give him an ultimatum, you or the drugs and whatever the fuck he deemed more important. But the universe always seems to work against you and had other plans, the universe being Ward Cameron and his untimely death.

Now you couldn’t have known what happened, you hadn’t been at Tannyhill when it happened and it wasn’t all over the news yet so nobody had said anything. You knew they had been onto them and that Rafe had been arrested but apparently you were expected to have superpowers and know that Rafe was released from jail and Ward had blown himself up. That’s how you ended up here having yet another fight with Rafe.

“God you’re so ungrateful, you know? I mean Topper dropped you like a lost fucking puppy and I took you in, my family took you in, and you’re tired? I work my ass off to provide for this family, you included, and this is how you treat me? I just lost my father. I was just thrown in jail and my dad took the fall for me making me more of a fucking disappointment, sorry if this isn’t all about you for once” you rolled your eyes at the Topper comment, he always threw it back in your face that he is the one that took you in after what happened, that he was the one that was there for the aftermath. You knew you should have let it go, his large dilated pupils and the small remnants of white powder under his nose alerting you he was high out of his mind. But you just had enough and snapped back.

“If it wasn’t for you Rafe, Topper wouldn’t have even done that. Everything is all your fault! None of this shit with your dad would have even happened if you didn’t kill the fucking cop! God I should have listened to Top when he told me you’d just hurt me. I should have chosen him, at least then I would still have a family” you scoffed and went to walk away before his hand roughly grabbed your wrist.

“Watch how you fucking speak to me. I’m all you have left now, without me you have nobody. What did Topper call you again…. A lying whore? Maybe that’s really what you are, just remember sweetheart, you’re absolutely nothing without me” his voice low and a sinister smirk on his face when he saw tears run down your face.

“I hate you” you yanked your arm free before running into one of the spare bedrooms and locking the door, climbing into the bed before sobbing into your hands at the harsh reality.

You heard a soft knock and sat up in bed rubbing at your eyes. You must have fallen asleep at some point, the argument from a few hours prior hitting you like a ton of bricks again. Maybe if you ignored the person on the other side of the door they’d go away. A few minutes went by without another knock and you assumed your plan worked…until you heard the lock turning and the door opened to reveal the last person you wanted to see.

“Go away” you didn’t want to see him, you didn’t want to look at him, you didn’t want to be in the same room as him, nothing.

“Please,” his voice cracked before he continued “just let me talk” you hated yourself for how easily you gave in.

“talk” you mumbled out and motioned for him to sit.

“I’m so sorry baby. I’m just under so much pressure and now my dad is dead and I’m fucking lost. I never wanted to hurt you, I didn’t mean to fuck this up” he was on his knees in front of you breaking down into tears.

“Rafe…” you sighed knowing you’d forgive him and move on like you always did. It was a toxic cycle but the desperate hope that your Rafe would come back prevented you from leaving.

“I know, if you never want to speak to me again I understand. I hate myself for what I did and said, how I fucking treated you, I always fuck everything up. You were right when you said everything is my fault” what he was saying was partially true, but he also knew in his very fucked up mind that he had you in the palm of his hand. If he broke out the tears and the sob story then you’d believe him and stay. It wasn’t right and he knew that, but it never seemed to stop him from doing it anyway.

“You hurt me..A lot Rafe. This is getting exhausting and I don’t know if I can do it anymore, this isn’t healthy and you know it” you hadn’t even realized you were crying until you felt the wet drops fall on your thighs.

“I know, I just love you. I’m going to get better okay? I’ll get my shit together and get clean and take over the family business. I’ll be a better man, I’m going to make you proud baby, please just give me another chance. I love you more than anything” he moved closer to you, still on his knees, and placed his hands on both sides of your thighs.

“One more chance Rafe. I love you so much it hurts, you fuck it up or hurt me again and i’m done for good. This new you scares me and I just want my old Rafe back” you placed your hands on his face but knew you would come back if this happened again. He knew that too, but he would play the part and make you believe it would be different.

“I promise, I'll get better. I love you so much baby” he said with relief before moving to test the waters and kiss you.

You were reluctant to give in but couldn’t resist and kissed him back with passion. He made you feel important again that night, claimed every inch of you as his over and over again, but it would happen again. He’d send you love bombs after the war and you’d both pretend it never happened. This was your new life as sad as it was, you chose this. That’s all you repeated to yourself each time it happened.

But fuck were you in over your head. You wanted Topper back in your life, you wanted your room at your house, you wanted things how they were, you didn’t sign up for this shit but it was too late now. You just didn’t know what else the universe had in store for you and just how much your life was truly about to change.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks netflix #obx angst #outer banks #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x thornton!reader

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roseyrays · 2 years

Text

༻THINGS THAT PROBABLY HAPPENED IN THEIR LIFE༺ all stars

riddle wasn’t allowed to watch some kid shows as a child because his mother said that it will "damage" his brain and study time

trey accidentally tripped over the flour bowl and got flour all over him when he was a child

cater probably wanted to dye his hair as a kid and tried to use the paints from the garage to dye his hair

ace got hit in the balls once while playing basketball

deuce accidentally dropped an egg as a child and cried for the next hours, he also hosted a funeral for it

leona played as the king during play time with his brother as a kid

ruggie bit someone’s arm to get food

jack once accidentally whipped someone with his tail

azul went ice skating with the tweels and he kept falling all the way and landed on his head, he never wanted to go ice skating after that

jade ate a poisonous mushroom but is somehow alive still

floyd bumped his head on the very low ceiling thing for the door (???) while chasing someone

kalim thought all the coins in his house are chocolate and tried unwrapping them

jamil played as the door during play time

vil forgot to fix his hair in the morning and just walked around all day with his hair all messy

rook would chase around small animals as a child

epel found a worm in his apple and screamed so loudly that it echoed

idia would cursed under his breath when in public but would loudly cursed when he’s in his room

malleus thought it was a good idea to melt ice cream so he could just drink it

lilia has dark humor and would laugh at the wrong times sometimes

silver once slept in a tree and it took them an hour to get him down

sebek cried so loud as a baby that the neighbors ears were broken

these are all just hcs and are for fun btw (didn’t do ortho cuz he’s a robot)

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soft--dragon · 1 year

Text

Returning Familiarities

Set in the 2012 TMNT universe during season 3, much more wholesome than what we were given during Leo's recovery period from the big fight with Shredder

Word Count: 4,006

Warnings: Mentions of post battle injury/trauma

There isn't much tickle content in this one, but it's very wholesome overall :)

The farmhouse was a welcome breath of fresh air from the busy wildness of New York City. The turtles and humans were much more used to screaming cars and crime at every single turn, but here, it was bird song and frog bellows.

Leo found himself relaxing into the location much more once he was supported by a crutch and able to explore it a little. His mood however, wasn't always the best. He often found himself moping or zoning out, unable to do much of anything with his damaged leg and weak body. The lack of training was annoying to say the least, but there was some good that came out of being out of commission.

He'd been able to spend more quality time with his family. Often, Mikey would encourage movie nights and they'd cram around the small TV to watch old cartoons or lame action movies and make fun of them. Leo was content to simply listen to his family, grateful for the fact that they were alive after everything. Heck, he was lucky to still be breathing. He sipped on his water, basking in the comfortable warmth of his friends in the farmhouse.

Casey and Mikey were exchanging little comments throughout the show, earning laughs from everyone else at the jokes - though Leo only really smiled. That was until Mikey said something incredibly out of pocket.

"Do you think Chris Bradford ever realised how bad his name sounded? Like come on, the name reeks of a pompous American kid living in his mom's basement."

There was a sudden splutter, turning everyone's attention to Leo who was putting down a glass and had a hand pressed over his mouth. Before they could ask if he was okay, Leo swallowed his mouthful of water and started laughing.

It was almost comedic how everyone in the room froze, staring at their leader who was in fits of breathy giggles, eyes pressed shut and smiling so wide it looked close to painful. Leo leant back in his seat, his lingering giggles playing with his words as he spoke, "God Mikey, that was awful." He wiped at his eyes, giving his younger brother a warm grin, only to blink at the wide eyed stare the orange clad turtle was giving him.

"What?" He looked at everyone else and seemed to shrink in on himself under their mutual staring contest with him. "What? What's wrong?"

April was the first to get over herself. She smiled gently and shook her head, "Nothing's wrong, Leo," she reassured. "It's just been a while since we heard that."

"Heard what? A joke?"

"No," Donnie's shocked expression had melted into a fond look. "Your laugh."

"...Oh."

Leo wasn't quite sure what to do with that. Sure he'd been out for three months but he'd been awake for weeks now. He'd laughed at some point.

…Right?

The air was growing uncomfortable, and Mikey, ever the one to break the silence, launched into a new tangent about how the chickens were plotting to kill him. That caught Casey off guard and he instantly grabbed onto the new topic.

The attention shifted off of Leo, but he zoned out of Mikey's passionate proclamation of a chicken coop coup. Had he seriously been so damaged in the fight he hadn't laughed in literal months? The others had looked so spellbound at the noise, but Leo had caught the hopeful, soft look in the eyes of his friends too. So that was probably a good sign, right? He hoped so. He didn't want his messed up throat to have changed his laugh, he didn't realise how badly his friends had been waiting to hear it.

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

Throughout the weeks at the farmhouse, Leo let himself drop his 'mandatory' leader profile, letting himself exist without forcing himself to act fine. Not like his family was buying it anyway.

He spent time with Mikey in the kitchen, offering suggestions for recipes and soft words of encouragement when Mikey needed it. Mikey dropped a couple of silly jokes here and there, and it really didn't take long for Leo's sense of humour to show itself as he muffled small chuckles into his hand. Mikey's face lit up with glee at the sounds, making Leo's chest ease a bit. It looked better than the melancholy that had mutually settled around the house. After a while, he let his hand drop from covering his mouth, his soft giggles filling the air. Even if his throat had been messed with, he saw the tension escape Mikey entirely every time his voice was peppered with mirthful titters. He counted it as a win, on both of their parts.

As Mikey stirred the batter in a bowl, Leo read over the recipe his little brother was using, eyes half lidded and body relaxed in the cosy atmosphere of the kitchen. "You really have improved with your cooking, Mike," he mumbled sleepily, "proud of you."

Mikey smiled brighter than the sun, and Leo was sure if they had been mutated with tails that Mikey's would've been wagging a mile a minute.

"Thanks dude, that means a lot!" He beamed. "Come a long way from worm and algae cakes."

Leo chuckled softly. "Those days weren't the worst honestly."

"Yeah, at least in those days I didn't have to try and figure out what human measurements were. They're kinda weird."

Leo's brow furrowed at that. "You do know what the measurements mean, right?"

"Uhhh…"

Leo's eyes went down to the paper he was reading and bit his lip to stop a smile from forming. He needed to be serious right now. "Mikey?"

"Yeah, bro?"

"How much salt did you put in this?"

"Um, one and a half tablespoons? Just like the recipe said."

Leo stared at him, lips pressed together in disbelief. "Mikey. It said one, or just half a teaspoon."

Mikey paused in his quick whisking to look at Leo. "For real?"

Leo gave a single bemused nod. "I’m not kidding."

Mikey blinked then shrugged. "Welp," he hummed. "Can't be any saltier than Donnie after losing a sparring match."

Leo actually snorted at that, slapping a hand over his mouth but Mikey already heard it, bouncing on his toes in glee. "Awww dude!"

"Shush, that didn't happen, Mikey-"

"That was so cute! You haven’t snorted since we were kids!"

"Mikey be quiet-!"

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

Hanging out with Donnie and Casey in the barn was much calmer than Leo expected. Well, calm for them at least. Where he expected them to butt heads and exchange insults every few minutes, they tossed each other tools and made light hearted jokes. Leo sat to the side on a hay bale, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere they'd clearly had been working in for a while now. It was surprising how much people could mature over three months while you're out cold. But Donnie and Casey pulled him into their little discussions, asking for opinions or ideas even though Leo knew next to nothing about their projects. It was nice, surprisingly, just existing with them. However, with their combined humour and general attitudes, Leo was pretty sure he was going to die.

"G-Guys stop plehease I cahan't breathe-" he wheezed, a hand pressed over his stomach which was starting to ache with how much he'd been laughing.

Casey, in a similar state, was slumped against his car project, dirty hand pressed to his forehead as he barked with laughter. "I'm not messing with you, Leo! Donnie literally tried to eat a freaking table he was so tired! And that wasn't even the worst of it!"

"Oh, be quiet, Jones," Donnie grinned, throwing a rag at the boy who caught it dutifully. "You're gonna ruin my reputation as the only sane one on the team."

"Donnie, when we were kids you made a bomb to get Raph back for calling you a nerd!" Leo gasped through his snickers, wiping at his eyes that had gathered moisture.

Casey swung around to Donnie. "You did WHAT?!"

Leo didn't notice Donnie and Casey keeping a tally chart of times they made him laugh - kind of a competition to see who could get him to laugh more. Donnie won in the end, but Casey blamed that on the fact that they grew up together. Little cheater knew Leo's sense of humour from birth. The winner didn't matter though. Seeing Leo throw his head back in a fit of bright cackles at Casey's screams of disbelief was worth so much more than bragging rights.

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

April had been trying to train more with her tessen and telepathic abilities, and as much as Leo wanted to spar with her, there really wasn't much he could do in terms of physical stuff. Instead, he did stretches with her, - it helped his aches anyway so it was a win win - coached her through katas' and improved things where he could. His small corrections did seem to help her, the smile she sent his way when she did something perfectly never failed to make Leo smile back with an enthusiastic thumbs up. He tried to ignore the pang in his chest from having to sit on the side lines, wanting more than anything to be up on his feet and training too.

Her telepathic training however, was much more fun for the pair of them. Leo, while expected to be the mature one, was cut some slack while recovering. And because of that, no one really expected him to take that slackened expectation and run with it. He and April were a rather surprisingly chaotic duo.

As training, they'd play harmless pranks on the others. Using April's telekinesis to move objects to scare people, and making Mikey's water balloons blow up in his hands before he could throw them. Mikey swore the house was haunted by a ‘KillJoy Ghost’ who’s afterlife mission was to thwart Doctor Prankenstein. They just let him believe it, it made for some rather entertaining segments of Mikey trying to recreate Ghost Busters to catch the KillJoy Ghost. They would come clean after Mikey eventually broke something in the future - which surprisingly hadn’t happened yet. They also used April’s powers to float Donnie's tools when he was up at ungodly hours, doing this to trick him into thinking he was hallucinating from lack of sleep - therefore forcing him take a nap. Things like that were counted as training so April could have better control of her psychic abilities. However, there were times when Leo kind of wished she didn't have them.

They'd been collecting eggs from the chicken coop while the birds themselves tried to eat Mikey's ankles a fair distance away. Leo had finished his side of the coop and put down the egg basket, flicking his eyes to his youngest brother to make sure the chickens weren't really trying to kill him. The chicken coop coup may actually have been legit. Something soft and fluffy brushed against the back of his neck and Leo yelped, girly and high pitched. He slapped a hand over the sensitive skin, spinning to look at April who was still tending to the chicken eggs. He looked back again, for a sign of a leaf of something that could've brushed against him. The same sensation flicked over the back of his knees, a squeak pulling from the turtle and looking down to see what on earth it was. A floating chicken feather.

"April." He looked at her with a half-hearted glare.

The girl giggled, peeking up with a smile. "Sorry, I couldn't resist it." Her eyes then took on a playful look. "Didn't know you were ticklish, Leo."

Leo raised a hand in warning. "Don't you dare." It sounded weak even to him.

April apparently did dare because the feather suddenly rushed up to dance along the underside of his chin and neck once more. High pitched giggles leapt out of Leo instantly, shoulders shooting up to protect the sensitive skin the best he could. April cooed under her breath as the turtle squirmed in place, trying to stop his laughter but ultimately failing miserably.

Leo tried to swat the pesky feather away, but April had improved with her abilities and sent it zooming to another location before Leo’s hand was even close to it. “Aprihihil! Quhihiit ihihit!” He giggled, hunching in on himself and swinging at the feather whenever it fell into his sightlines.

“I’m not doing anything,” April replied innocently, swirling the feather around Leo’s open armpit and grinning when he practically squealed. The big bad leader of the Ninja Turtles was defeated by a feather. It was pretty cute.

It was when she brushed along his knees and ankles that his body finally collapsed under the sensations. Leo curled into a ball on the grass, giggling and squeaking like the child he was as the feather circled him like a vulture, occasionally swooping in to tickle the turtle. April was internally fawning over Leo’s endearing reactions, not having expected the guy to be this ticklish. It was lucky most of the boys were inside lest Leo die of embarrassment from succumbing to this playful barrage, at least Mikey was too far away to hear them.

She didn't tickle him for too long, backing down after a minute or two to let him breathe. Leo stayed huddled on the ground as he rubbed at the attacked spots and tried to stop his lingering titters, though they seemed permanently intertwined with his voice box now. When sufficiently calmed down, he sat up and pointed at April with a faux annoyed glare.

"Once I'm at full strength again,” he promised playfully, “I am so going to get you back."

April laughed and leaned against the coop. "We'll see, Leo," she grinned, catching the feather that had returned to her. "I may be more powerful by then, could probably take on all five of you boys."

Leo puffed out an amused breath. "Probably," he admitted. Then his smile got evil as a thought crossed his mind. "Think we could get away with doing that to Raph as training next time?"

April's answering grin was a recipe for disaster.

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

Raph had put himself in charge of Leo's recovery back to full strength. At first, Leo was incredibly disheartened as he could barely walk a few metres without needing a breather, often snarling venom at his own body for betraying him. Raph however, wasn't at all condescending or brash, instead at Leo’s side with a steady hand and confidence that the fatigue wouldn't be forever. True to his word, with Raph's frequent encouragement and training, Leo was on his feet far faster than he expected, forgoing the crutch when he could, even if Donnie disapproved. Raph would die before he admitted it, but seeing Leo in such excitement when he could walk farther made his chest warm with pride. His brother was stubborn as a bull, the recovery was expected, maybe not in such a short time frame, but expected all the same.

Something Raph had insisted on was getting them to go on small hikes or walks through the woods, taking alternate routes each time for different terrain, but never straying far enough that they’d get lost. You only make that mistake once. Their necks still twinged every time they thought about April’s killer pinch and lecture on getting home safely. She certainly filled the role of ‘Overprotective Sibling’, Leo was honestly impressed he could almost be outdone. Almost.

The pair were doing another trek through the forest together, conversing to fill the bird song speckled woodlands with a little more noise. There was no sign of Bigfoot and that hunter that got enamoured with the cryptid, and Leo was grateful that they’d disappeared. That whole situation was weird to begin with, but the jokes that came from the experience were almost worth the nightmare fuel.

“Okay, but imagine if she and Donnie actually did like each other,” Raph swung a stick he’d found in front of him. “Imagine the kids that would’ve come from that relationship.”

“No thanks,” Leo shuddered. “Just be glad it wasn’t some kind of mutant naked mole rat or something. I don’t think I could’ve handled that.”

“Can’t be any more different from Casey,” Raph chuckled, earning an amused snort from his brother and an eye roll. “No, no I’m serious Leo, think about it.”

“I don’t want to think about it-”

“Too bad, I’m making you think about it.” Raph was suddenly in Leo’s space, grinning widely and punching at his shoulders gently. “A massive naked mole rat, right? Just give it shaggy black hair and a hockey stick, boom, Casey Jones.”

“Stop. Stop. That’s just weird-” Leo almost wheezed at the thought, pushing away Raph and trying to walk away, but Raph kept jumping in front of him and didn’t stop poking the bear.

“They have similar behaviour too! They get so violent when something outside of their colony tries to get close - I saw a documentary with Donnie about it - and Casey is just like that! Think of how many times he’s attacked random strangers just because they tried to hurt any of us.”

Leo was struggling to keep himself together. He forced himself not to laugh at Raph’s sudden hyperfixation on comparing Casey to a naked mole rat of all things as he answered. “Are you honestly suggesting that Casey is secretly a mole man?”

“With how much he digs himself into holes then yeah, I’d say that our resident, anger ridden, hockey loving friend is a naked mole rat.”

Leo couldn’t stop the laugh that burst free from him, determinedly trying to put as much space between himself and his red coded brother just so he could escape this conspiracy conversation.

“Hey! I wasn’t done! I wanna give you more examples!”

“I don’t want to hear them.”

“You laughed!”

Well, that was true, but Leo didn’t want to egg Raph on about this lest he actually try to see if Casey was a mole man. “It was the wind.”

“The wind-? Are you saying that I’m not funny?! No. No, no, no. Leo, come back here-”

Leo was already walking as fast as he could manage deeper into the woods, careful to mind roots and rocks so he didn’t trip. He heard Raph chuckling from behind him and his footsteps getting closer.

“Those naked mole rats use scents to identify each other, and we already know Casey knows what we smell like from a mile off because of the sewers. Plus he definitely knows what April smells like cause of his crush on her-”

“I’m not listening to this.”

“They also use high pitched screams to tell others that there’s danger. Have you heard his screaming before? You gotta admit that it’s accurate.”

“Not listening!”

“And hey, I just remembered that most male naked mole rats work for most of their lives and don’t breed, which is accurate for Casey, right?”

That one made Leo choke on air and almost stumble. “Oh my god, Raph! That is so wrong!” Leo couldn’t stop the giggles that fell from him as he shook his head, trying to push the thought out of his mind.

“But I’m right about this!”

“I don’t want to think about Casey’s body count!”

“In murder or getting lai-?”

Leo swung around and grappled to put Raph in a chokehold. “Stop talking about it!” Leo pleaded through barely kept back laughter, his smile matching Raph’s grin as they tussled in the middle of the forest.

“Never! I’ll make you see the truth!”

“You’re such an idiot!”

Raph managed to hook his arm around Leo’s good leg and force him to the ground, rolling onto his shell to put his brother in the same chokehold that Leo had just attempted.

A surprised squawk was wrangled out of Leo. “Hey!”’

“I’m just trying to open your eyes man.”

Leo’s chest was warm as laughter spilled free from his mouth, his heart lighter than ever as he playfully wrestled with his brother. He roughly dug his elbow into Raph’s plastron, getting a grunt from the teenager and making him lose his grip. Leo used it to force Raph off of him and pin him face down on the grass.

“Stop talking about cursed Casey concepts!” He ordered, pressing Raph’s arm to his carapace and holding it there.

Raph tried to kick at Leo from his face down position, but he couldn’t reach. Sometimes he was grateful for being a short turtle, this was not one of those times. It took fifteen seconds of his arm being bent awkwardly that he finally smacked the ground twice to yield. Leo let go immediately and lay down by Raph on the leaves, their shoulders almost touching. Raph grumbled light-heartedly and kept his face in the grass so he didn’t have to face any gloating. Leo chuckled softly and patted his brother’s shell, partially a condolence for the loss and a comforting gesture. The birds continued to sing unbothered above the pair, making the forest feel beautifully serene. Raph breathed in deeply. As much as he enjoyed crime fighting, it was actually kinda nice being away from the constant noise and battles. Maybe when they defeated Shredder they could come back here for holidays? That sounded nice.

“...I actually got you.”

The awed words stirred Raph from his musings to look at Leo in surprise. Leo was grinning up at the canopy, a spark in his eyes that hadn’t been seen for a long time. He found himself smiling as he rolled onto his back too and punched his brother’s arm affectionately. “Told you you’d be able to take me down again soon enough.”

Leo chuckled. “Yeah.” He then scoffed and pressed the skin between his eyes with his thumb and index fingers, a disbelieving smile on his face as he muttered. “And I can’t believe it was over Casey Jones being a mutant naked mole rat.”

Raph’s laughter rang through the forest, Leo’s following a moment after as they lay side by side in the grass, marvelling at the ridiculousness of their prior conversation.

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

April had written in a diary for months since their arrival at the Farm House, and she could confidently say that she now had a favourite section of the journal. It was when Leo had recovered so far that he had forgone the crutches for a solid week and could do something he hadn’t been able to since he woke up.

"Guys! Look at this!"

Leo was laughing as he ran, jumping small distances and being able to continue running. The boys and their humans cheered him on, whooping and clapping as he spun in the air and regained his footing.

"Yes Leo!" Mikey ecstatically pumped his fists into the air, looking close to joining Leo in his sprint with how much he was bouncing up and down on the spot.

Leo spun on his heel and boosted straight for his family, arms outstretched and mouth open in a wide grin. In a smooth motion, he swept Mikey into his arms and spun him around in a tight hug, laughing into his shoulder in pure glee.

"I was running, guys! I was running!" He gasped, eyes squinting with the force of his smile.

"We saw!" April grinned proudly, moving to wrap her arms around the pair of laughing brothers.

The others swarmed around them, joining the hug and grinning at Leo's lingering giggles, the excitement in his chest making his heart feel like it was pounding a mile a minute, or that may have been the exercise aftermath. Either way, Leo didn't care. Wrapped up in the arms of his family, he tipped his head back and whooped loudly in victorious glee, his leg not even twinging in the slightest. His family shared a soft look at the oldest turtle brother, his laughter contagious and relieving to hear unbridled, so carefree.

Finally, after months of a slow recovery, it seemed to be turning around for them all.

#my fanfic #tmnt 12 #tmnt #fanfic #this is mainly just fluff #i desperately need leo to get more hugs #he went through a lot #fluff #tmnt tickle #2012 leo #2012 donnie #2012 mikey #2012 raph #2012 april o'neil #2012 casey jones

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davekat-sucks · 5 months

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The homestuck cafe's menu just reminded me of a great 4/13 story I have! I want to share it for people to read! For one 4/13 that I celebrated, I had a friend who held a party at her house and made a bunch of shots themed for all the trolls, beta kids, alpha kids and the antagonists. The colors of each drink were on point. I made 30 rice krispies treats that were shaped and colored with food dye to look like casey and they were MASSIVE. I brought gushers too! Candy corn?! You think we wouldn't have that shit!?!?! I believe it was the 9th anniversary, no epilogue yet.

We rewatched all the major flashes and only about three of us there actually read the whole story, three read a good chunk of it. We cosplayed too. I was Roxy. Most people who came had no idea what homestuck was and they just talked and drank in the kitchen where the drinks were. Must have been about 20 other people there just watching a few of us cheer and yell at a screen in the living room. Make her pay is my favorite flash, I always get so fucking into it. Make that 8itch pay. We did the whole How Do I Live bit like it was karaoke. The part where Jade enters the game, what a song! Fucking sunsetter played at some point, jamming out to that shit! My favorite! At Cascade I was pointing like crazy at how Sollux sacrificed himself for some ungrateful pieces of shit who don't give a fuck about how he just melted his brains! When Jake died protecting Jane in game over, I was so drunk that I screamed "SHE WOULDN'T DO THE SAME FOR YOOOOU!" My other friend had her meltdown when Tavros was killed "HOW DARE SHE!?" And Collide, what a high! what a let down! GO JAKE KICK ASS! EAT COOKIES! GO KARKAT DO SOMETHING! DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!!!! WHOOOOA! Everyone was screaming for Dad! I was the one screaming shit like "DECAPITATE YOUR BROTHER DAVE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" Gamzee is in the fridge and I'm like "BURN IN HELL!" Gotta get a lighter out for when it shows all the beta kids and their homes! Someone is out here yelling "DAVE MARRY ME!" LORD ENGLISH IS STILL ALIVE YOU DIDN'T KILL HIM!!!! DAVE GET YOUR ASS IN THERE AND FIGHT!

I really wish I could have known what it was like to see things from their perspective! What they imagine Homestuck is actually about from that experience. It really must have been like that tiktok. The epic. mac game commentary where a guy is commenting on random objects like a unicorn and someone signing a CD with a pen. We were screaming over good music, digital collages and a story they can't hope to make sense of. No one ever tried to explain anything. It was pure chaos! Homestuck having bullshit moments just to anger people and bring them joy in the form of videos is what we loved about this stupid story! I still love it!

I would feel embarrassed I got so crunk over Homestuck infront of people who were strangers to me but it was their choice to come. They were warned that the experience would be like a fever dream and they came for that! They got to watch a few friends from high school get the band back together then get drunk and high on life! They got to watch people love and hate every single thing happening on screen and yell like we were watching the big game! They got to watch idiots celebrate the best and shittiest webcomic that ever existed! If that is their only experience with homestuck, more power to them.

#homestuck #Homestuck Day #413 #happy 413 #Homestuck 413

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across-violet-skies · 7 months

Text

Febuwhump day 15: "who did this to you?"

Whumpee: Hyrule

Whump Rating: 8/10

TWs: blood, restraints, severe burns/being burnt alive, attempted murder

It had been a rough week.

After a surprise portal, the Chain found themselves stuck in Hyrule’s Hyrule, wandering through a forest that smelled of decay and rot. The monsters were relentless as they traveled, and Hyrule was running on empty trying to keep his blood from spilling.

Really, it was a miracle they even made it to a town at all, especially one that allowed the traveler to stay. It was quite clear that Hyrule was not popular in his time, with the way villagers and other travelers treated him. Before they were allowed to stay in the inn, several of the locals insisted on checking Hyrule over for any cuts or scrapes, refusing to allow cursed blood to sully their little settlement. They were only accepted once Time and Warriors had convinced the innkeeper that Hyrule was unharmed, and his blood wouldn’t leave his body.

The traveler went to bed early that night.

The one thing about the inns in Hyrule’s time was that they were all single rooms. The rooms were cheap, at least, since they had to pay for nine of them. It was even easier for them to leave Hyrule to rest and relax, hidden away from prying eyes and angry townsfolk.

Or, at least they thought so.

Never underestimate an angry mob, Hyrule thought to himself, struggling against heavy ropes that bound his arms and legs. They have no mercy for those who oppose them.

The sky was dark, only the north star visible through the haze that covered this world. The forests had eyes, trained hungrily on the brunette boy bound and gagged, tied to a thick iron pole. He screamed and cried as his flesh burned from the contact, fae blood pulsing through his veins as his desperate attempts to be heard were muffled by the large gag shoved in his mouth.

They were just outside the town limits, where monsters roamed free. A group of villagers stood around the pole, watching with darkened eyes as Hyrule sobbed, skin sizzling as it melted against the iron pole. Below him, wood was stacked up high, the smell of gasoline penetrating Hyrule’s nose in a way that made him choke and cough, tears streaming down his face.

He had no magic left to give. He had already been exhausted upon arriving at the town, and a few hours was hardly enough time to regain the magic required for any of his spells. He couldn’t even heal himself or throw up a shield as iron seared his back, melting the skin there until only muscle remained. It was beyond painful– Hyrule felt faint even before smoke filled his lungs, dangerous heat licking at his ankles as he hung above a raging fire.

As if the iron pole wasn’t torturous enough, they were burning him alive, too? At least his blood would burn with him.

Hyrule scrunched up his nose, ignoring the agony to try and shimmy further up the pole. No, he can’t give up that easily… what would Legend think? Wild? Time? Warriors? Did he really want Wind to have to see this? Four? Twilight? Sky?

He couldn’t give up. Not yet. No matter how badly it burned, he had to try and live. If not for himself, if not for his world… then for his family. His brothers. Hyrule coughed around the gag, eyes watering from all the smoke wafting up into his face. He had to break free somehow… the flames were getting closer.

As if the Goddesses had heard his plea, the clouds opened, spilling droplets onto dead grass and decaying wood. The villagers ran back to their homes, a few spitting at Hyrule before turning tail.

The rain dampened the fire, but did not put it out. However, with the pole slickened with rain, Hyrule managed to slide further down, carefully trying to burn the rope that bound his legs with what remained of the fire. Every movement was torture, but Hyrule remained strong, breathing heavily through his nose as the rope finally burnt, allowing him to shimmy further down to try and burn away the ropes around his wrists.

Once he was freed, Hyrule wasted no time jumping away from the iron pole, ripping the gag out of his mouth with a sob. His body wanted nothing more but to collapse, but he knew doing so would be a death sentence. While the rain certainly helped cover the scent, his blood was exposed to the air, and it wouldn’t be long before monsters came after him.

Hyrule stumbled, making his way back to town dazedly. Every inch of him burned, but his determination burned brighter. It was still dark as he swayed woozily, pushing open the door to the inn as he tried to get back to his room.

He was so close… but his body couldn’t take it any longer. Hyrule collapsed in the hallway, creating a loud thud as he made contact with the wooden floor. Awake, but only just, he laid there, unable to force his body to move any further.

Warriors’ door was the first to open, with the Captain holding a defensive position. Upon spotting Hyrule, he gasped, running toward him and slamming a fist on every door he passed.

“What the f-” Legend blinked, staring at Hyrule with surprise. He crouched down beside the traveler as well, frowning. “What happened to him?”

Warriors shook his head. “I don’t know! I heard something from the hall, so I went to check it out, and he was just…” He gestured at Hyrule’s limp form helplessly.

Legend sniffed, wrinkling his nose. “Do you smell that?” He questioned, narrowing his eyes. “It almost smells like…”

“...burning flesh…” The Captain inhaled, pressing his lips together. Making brief eye contact with Legend, Warriors carefully lifted Hyrule’s tunic, only to drop it immediately after. The skin on his back was burnt beyond recognition, red with white bubbles in some areas, and fully black and burnt away in others. It was nauseating, to say the least.

Legend gagged, turning away. “Fucking-” He shook his head, humming uncomfortably. “What the fuck.”

Time was the next to appear in the doorway, staring silently at the scene for a moment before he turned, disappearing back into his room. He returned quickly, shoving a bottle of red potion into Warriors’ hand.

The Captain was quick to feed it to Hyrule, sighing with relief as the severe burns on the traveler’s back healed over, the skin turning a sensitive pinkish color. The traveler took heavy breaths as the potion fixed the burns on his back, soothing his wounds.

“Traveler.” Time stood over the three of them, expression stern and fierce. “Who did this to you?”

Legend helped Hyrule sit up, carefully wrapping an arm around his back for support. The traveler flinched at the movement, and Legend backed away with a grimace as memories of burnt flesh swirled through his head.

“It’s fine,” Hyrule mumbled, holding a hand to his head dizzily. “It wasn’t… it’s not their fault.”

The Veteran scowled. “The villagers?” He guessed, wrinkling his nose.

Hyrule nodded slowly, avoiding eye contact as he shuddered. “They’re not monsters. They’re just scared.”

“Why are you defending them?” Legend huffed, baring his teeth in frustration. “They kidnapped you in the middle of the night, ‘Rulie, and then you come back like this! How are they not monsters?”

The traveler shook his head, staring down at his hands. The burnt rope ends rested in his lap, still looped and knotted around his wrists. Hyrule closed his eyes, exhaling. “I wasn’t supposed to come back,” he whispered, barely audible. He shook his head, tears pooling as he relived the recent memories. “I was never meant to come back,” he continued, slightly louder.

Legend was seeing red. “Those bastards tried to kill you?” He balled his hands into fists, scrunching up his nose. Hyrule winced, shrinking in on himself.

Time set a hand on the Vet’s shoulder, keeping him from getting up. “Nobody is going out there. We have better things to worry about right now,” he insisted. Time smirked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “However, I do think a lesson could be taught to the people who did this.”

Warriors raised an eyebrow, nodding. “I like what you’re getting at, Old Man.”

“Hm.” Legend shrugged, nodding. “Fine, I guess.” He looked down at Hyrule, exhausted and miserable. “But I’m taking him to my room for the rest of the night. I don’t want any more surprises.”

“Good idea,” Warriors agreed, standing up. “We can work on a plan tonight while he rests. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

Time nodded, offering a hand as Legend and Hyrule stood up. “Rest well, Traveler.” The Veteran slung Hyrule’s arm over his shoulders, helping him to walk back to Legend’s room. Once the door had shut behind them, Time turned to Warriors, expression cold yet fiery. “Rally the troops, Captain. We’ll need as much help as we can get.”

By daybreak, Legend and Hyrule were being ushered out of the inn, all nine of their number awake and ready to go. Time smiled, nodding at Wild as they stepped outside, packed up to leave.

“What the…” Legend trailed off, staring at the scene. All around town, various objects were floating, tethered to purple sacs.

Wild put his hands on his hips, beaming proudly. “Octo balloons!”

“As much as I’d love to stay here and watch, I think it’s in our best interest to leave now,” Warriors pointed out. “Traveler, think you’re okay to walk and navigate today?”

Hyrule nodded, still staring up at all the octo balloons. From barrels to chairs to even part of a fence, all sorts of things floated through the air. While their inconvenience certainly wasn’t on the same level as what the villagers had done to him, it was funny, and nobody had to suffer (well, other than him) because of it. He cracked a smile, exhaling. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

–> support me on ao3!

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday15 #tw blood #tw restraints #tw burns #tw burned alive #tw attempted murder #linked universe #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu legend #lu wild #lu time #linked universe fanfic #ao3 #riv writes

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