#to continue forward no matter how many people try to bring me down

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 1

Masterlist - Part 2

A light zap of electricity made your cheek tingle, urging you awake. Sleepily, you opened your eyes and were greeted with a rundown room with no furniture. The strange sight woke you up immediately and you sat up.

What the hell? This isn't your home, fuck, this doesn't even look like somewhere in your city!

As you surveyed the surroundings with more urgency, thoughts of the day before came to mind.

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You were only supposed to drop off the money from the scams to your boss. Your forte wasn't fighting yet when you entered the rundown building, there was tension in the air.

Your boss glowered at the woman across the room. Before you could even ask one of your coworkers what's happening, guns were drawn. In less than 5 seconds the building became a mess of fighting, gun shots, and noise.

Trained instincts of running kicked in and you were already slipping past brawls trying to get to the nearest exit. The money was already dropped off, your boss couldn't hold shit against you.

Just as you got close to the window, a lanky man shoved you. You only stumbled back and raised your fists. You didn't like to fight but after years of living less than legal, you've learned how to fight long enough to escape.

In 10 minutes you were already walking down the sidewalk with bloody knuckles and a bruised foot. The other guy must be worse since you threw him into the window before escaping.

It's just your luck that a police car pulls up beside you. Stopping, you flash a smile to the officer as he rolls down the window.

"Sorry to bother you so late but I noticed that you're a little hurt. Do you need me to bring you to a hospital?"

What he's really asking is what got you hurt, but you keep your cool and answer with cheeriness.

"It's really nothing. I was just at the bar down the street with a friend when some people started getting rowdy. They got kicked out before anyone could really get hurt but I still got a little banged up."

You point to the bar that you passed by that's in full swing. The officer eyes you for a moment before asking a follow-up question.

"And what about your friend? Where are they, are they okay?"

Your tone drops a little as you reply. "Their wonderful partner picked them up so I left. I mean it's not like I have any lover to pick me up. What can a poor single person like me do?"

The officer instantly becomes bored and says a quick goodbye before driving off. You roll your eyes at the predictable action and continue walking home. Lying has become a natural habit for you and you've become damn good at it.

You finally get home to your shitty studio apartment in the seedy part of the city. Locking the door, you trudge to your computer as you ignore the screams from other apartments. You boot it up and start eating the cheap fast food you picked up.

First you check on the scam ads you posted to see which poor sucker fell for it. You forward the card information to another coworker and consider yourself done with work for the day.

Were you a bad person for being a scam artist? Yeah. Did you wish that you could have a normal job that doesn't involve hurting people? Hell yeah. Have you ever been able to? Nope.

You click the little Paimon app to run Genshin to distract yourself from those meaningless thoughts. You've been stuck in those loops long enough to know it's useless to dwell on them.

The mindless commissions are just what you need to relax. You smile at the sight of Bennett's idle before farming for the most annoying materials; Handguards.

You finish combing through most of the Inazuma islands before teleporting to Seirai Island. The statue of the seven heals your party from any damage that occurred.

Leaning back in your chair, you stretched your arms, sighing as the tension is released from your body. Deciding to turn in for the night, you exit out of Genshin.

Well, you tried at least.

No matter how many times you clicked, it just wouldn't exit. Brushing it off as a bug, you just shut down the device.

Instead of shutting down, the screen showed the doors to Celestia. With no prompt, the doors opened and the white flash shined into your eyes.

Cringing at the harsh light you waited for it to stop.

It didn't.

It got brighter and brighter before it completely enveloped you.

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

Feeling more awake after remembering, you look around the house. Other than the creaky bed you were on, nothing else was in the house. You stand up and nearly trip over a bag at your feet.

Opening it, you find nothing but you decide to take it just in case. That's when you notice that your knuckles are completely healed. No blood, bandages or pain.

You check your body and see that although scars have remained, all your minor cuts and bruises have healed without a trace. Feeling creeped out you try to leave the house. The nearly broken door takes a good amount of strength to push open but you do and stumble out.

The sight of purple thundering skies, floating rocks, and a statue of the seven shocks you. You stumble on the squeaky plants and hard cobblestone as you get closer to the edge.

White trees with purple leaves, blue grass and Naku Weed surround the ground. It's the same area where you tried to log off. There was no way you were in Genshin Impact; Shit like this only happens in fiction.

Hallucination, death, dream, or pulled into a fictional world. Your mind whirls those four possibilities. You stomp on what should have been your bruised foot. It's painful, but not as much as a bruised foot.

With death and dream off the list you walk to the small tree with purple leaves. An Otogi tree, your mind helpfully supplies. You press a hand against the bark and feel the leaves carefully. The sensation is too real and you're too steady to be hallucinating.

You must really be in Tevyat. You were never attached to Earth but being suddenly thrust here is still a bit jarring. You look at the statue of the seven and contemplate your next decision.

From what you remember, anyone who isn't from Teyvat should be allowed to take elemental power from the statue. Biting your lip you approach the statue and place a hand on the gold accessories.

You marvel at how the statue glows at your presence but when you look at your hands, you feel no difference. It seems you wouldn't be a main character in this world either.

Shrugging it off, the excitement of actually being in Teyvat started to well up inside you. You walk down the desecrated dirt and cobblestone path as you admire Seirai Island.

While walking you freeze at the sight of two Fatui soldiers at a camp. You could fight people and escape, but Fatui soldiers? Fuck no. You didn't plan to die this fast.

You sneak along the houses to your left all while trying to remember Seirai's layout. If you wanted to survive in this world, you would need to get to civilization. You needed a boat cause there was no way in hell you were swimming in water that could be struck with lightning at any moment.

You follow the left path that seems to lead to the shore. Fuck, a mirror maiden is walking the same path right towards your direction. With some fast thinking and only a small dose of panic, you scale the rocks on your right.

They were thankfully small enough that your minor skills could be utilized well enough. Breathing heavily, you lay down on the soft blue grass. You close your eyes and open them swiftly at something tingly but smooth on your nose.

It's an electro Crystalfly. Purple and beautiful. You lay there mesmerized before it flies off gently. You stand up in a daze and struggle not to blindly follow it.

You walk along the cliff's edge while being careful not to fall. You can't risk going onto the grass in fear of a spector chasing you. Yet another thing that can end your new life.

Once far away enough from the mirror maiden, you slowly climb down and feel relieved at not breaking a bone. The path splits into two and you contemplate which one would lead to the Waverider.

Logically you know the chance of the waverider working for you was small, but the chance of you finding an intact boat was even smaller. Your train of thought is broken by the sounds of machines whirring from the right path.

You curse yourself and start sprinting down the left path to get away. Forgetting the existence of Ruin Sentinels almost cost you your life, but due to your panic, you almost sprinted straight into a different Ruin Sentinel.

Skidding to a stop, you hastily walk around it while sweating bullets. Thankfully it didn't notice you and you praise your good luck. You walk more alert to the waverider but stop at the teleport waypoint.

Out of simple curiosity, you touch the teleport structure. It glows similar to how it did in the game. But instead of red turning blue, the blue turned gold.

A smile forms on your face as your mind races with the possibilities that this could mean. Excitedly, you run to the waverider and touch it. Its blue turns gold and a boat is summoned onto the water.

It's not the same boat as the travelers, in fact you would even say it's better. Climbing into your boat you marvel at how much space it has. There is a small screen in the middle with a handprint.

There is no steering wheel or any other controls. You put your hand on it and say the first island that comes to mind. "Take me to Kannazuka Island."

The boat begins to move and you sit down on the couch. The whole boat feels luxurious to the point where you feel out of place; as if you're the sole piece of dirt on it.

But you don't have to be trash anymore. This world is kinder to people that couldn't finish school or can't stay in one spot. You wanted to try a normal job, maybe set up a stall or shop. Work as a normal, legal worker, or even become an adventurer. If reckless Pallas could do it, surely you could.

No more lying, no more crime.

The boat stops and you get off as you try to remember which part of the island you stopped at. There's a waverider and a teleport waypoint close together. That's on the right side of the Tatarasuna also known as the place where Kunikuzushi died and became Scaramouche.

After tapping both the waverider and teleport waypoint, you walk closer to the main part of the island. You remember farming this place for the handguards which explains why there is no Nobushi.

After passing the broken down ship part, you spot a tree with lavender melon. Excitedly and with hunger you get close and pick the lowest hanging fruit.

It's juicy and unlike any fruit you've eaten before. Which isn't a lot since fruit is expansive. You stroll down the shore as you finish the fruit.

You recognize the area on the left as a place where a quest had a fight. Walking on it you smile at seeing it in person. It's really amazing how you're actually here. And holy shit is that Ei?

The archway made of rock that leads into Tatarasune has Ei standing right there. You freeze and your breathing slows down as you try not to be noticed.

Ei was a complex character meaning that she will cause a lot of trouble for the peaceful and lawful existence you planned to live here.

As you try to walk away casually you hear her mutter something interesting.

"I could have sworn I felt their presence somewhere here."

Ei locks eyes with you making you freeze. You should greet her with her long ass title but there was no way you remembered that. Instead you give a small bow and speak politely.

"Please forgive my intrusion. I hope I haven't-"

"How dare you."

"I'm sorry wha-"

"Who are you? Which nation are you from? How dare you show such disrespect toward Their Holiness?!"

Her glare is firm and her voice grows louder. Gaping at the sudden hostility, you take a step back when she starts to pull out her Musou-no-something.

Ei's words are barely registered in your brain as you scramble for a way to escape.

"Someone with the same face as the creator is an anomaly. No one has ever been born with their face yet you, a mere human mortal, has it. I shall sacrifice you to them for impersonating the creator's image."

It's like her one track mind as a soldier has taken over Ei again. You yell the first thing that comes to mind that can help you escape while pointing behind her.

"OH MY GOD, IS THAT MAKOTO YOUR TWIN SISTER?!"

Ei freezes and immediately whips her head to look behind her. You don't hesitate to book it back to the boat.

'Just keep running, just keep running.' You sing frantically to yourself as you hear Ei chase after you. You yelp in pain when lightning starts striking your heels with every step.

She's toying with you, you realize. She wants to know how you could possibly know about her sister. She won't kill you yet but you know she won't hesitate to harm you severely.

The boat comes into view and you jump into it. The water that you splashed in, in your hurry makes your feet hurt more.

"Do you think that boat can protect you from me?"

You sit on the floor and try to think up a solution but the pain coursing through your body is hindering you. But you already know that you can't drive the boat or else she'll destroy it.

"Tell me how you know her name. How do you know her connection to me? How much more do you know about us?"

None of your regular tactics can work on her, not without risking death. You look at your lap for some kind of solution and notice your hands glowing. A small plan begins to form and instead you answer her with a distraction.

"Do you truly believe that I'm the only person alive that knows about her?"

Ei goes silent and you take advantage of the time to try to figure out what's happening with your hands. As much as you hope you gained elemental powers, you doubt that it can actually help you when an archon is trying to harm you.

You feel like spiderman as you make various hand gestures with your hands trying to figure out what the deal is with the glowing. It's the simple gesture of putting your hands together and pulling them apart that makes the glowing leave your hands and form a small screen.

"Did Celestia send you down here? Did you have a mission from them to use the Creator's form to dig up information?"

As the screen glows white and shows the Genshin Impact logo, your breath hitches. Your only hope is to let Ei draw her own conclusions from your answers as you hope your new power can help you.

"Celestia, huh? If Celestia themself took on the form of the Creator for their plans, do you think they would succeed?"

Thunder strikes louder after you say that. The logo leaves and shows the traveler on the beach in Mondstadt. You don't think about the weirdness of that before teleporting Lumine to where you are at.

"What are you implying-"

Ei's words are cut off as the sound of teleporting rings through your ears unlike the game audio has ever done before. On the screen the traveler stands next to a gold teleport waypoint with Ei nowhere to be seen. You smile at the implication.

You look out the boat and don't see Lumine there. You look back at the screen only to find it gone. You make the gesture and the screen reappears. It's only when you look away from the teleport waypoint that the screen finally loads.

Lumine is still standing next to the gold teleport waypoint. After teleporting her back to the beach you close the screen. With the Ei threat somewhat subdued, you feel safe enough to collapse on the couch.

Lazily you tell the ship to sail to Narukami Island, Ei would still come after you. Anywhere is better than your present location. An idea forms in your mind and you clarify. "Bring me to Amakane Island."

Your mind processes the information of a Creator, your resemblance, the screen, and new threats. The first step is clear as day. The little shop on Amakane Island that sells masks is your first stop.

Hello anybody that reads this. I have started another fic series. Again. There is a large chance that I'll get burnt out and not finish it. But I hope you enjoyed this. The next chapter should have what I really wanted to talk about which is Oracle!Reader.

Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl [Edit: This chapter has been updated by my dear editor on 8/19/23]

[allzelemonz]

A Test: Slade Wilson X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, violence Warnings: Unhealthy relationship, power dynamics, mentor/protege, Reader is referred to as younger, forced masturbation, hand job, anal fingering, left unsatisfied, voyeurism, first time anal penetration Summary: During the usual sparring session of your training Slade gives an unexpected order.

Learning under Slade is not easy. Constant training, lacking privacy, overwhelming expectations. But you signed up for it. Still, your body aches from sparring, your head hurts from keeping up with tactics, nothing is ever rested and well. Everything is a constant test. Including now, dead center of the training room with fresh bruises all over your skin and sweat soaking through your clothes. For a moment you think you’ve misheard him because you’re so tired, but he’s just standing there waiting for you to follow orders.

“What did you say?”

Slade crosses his arms, looking down at you like you’re some little insect. “Play with yourself.” He repeats.

“I… w-what?” You stumble over thoughts.

Slade steps forward, putting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing enough to make your knees bend in an effort to relieve the pressure. “Get on your knees, pull out your dick, and play with yourself until I say you can stop. Understand, kid?”

Before you can manage an answer, he pushes you down. You land hard on your knees and feel the shock all through your body. Slade takes a step back, crossing his arms and looking down expectantly. He’s tested many things before and this is just another. Something about commitment or loyalty or some other value he expects of his protégés but doesn’t bother with in return. And there will be consequences if you don’t comply or if you fail, there always are.

Your hands tremble as you move them to your pants, fingers finding the button. Slade picked the gear you train in, heavy cargo pants so you’re ready for the Deathstroke armor in the field. At the moment you’re just thankful it has a zipper so you don’t have to pull anything down. Him seeing your dick is humiliating enough.

Trying not to look at him, trying to forget he’s there, you follow your orders. You bring your hand up to your mouth and spit, then lower it down and fish out your flaccid dick, holding it firmly and starting to stroke. The cold air feels odd, the burning gaze on your head is worse. No matter what you think of, no matter where you look, you know Slade is there watching. His orders were to continue until he said to stop, and knowing Slade he’ll make you stop just before you’re about to finish. So, in a way, you’re kind of glad you can’t get hard.

Slade doesn’t share the sentiment.

“Pants off.”

His voice makes you jump and you dare not look up at him for fear of upsetting him. He must be in a mood today given the pain you now feel in your ribs from sparring just moments ago. Best not to do anything that could make that worse. So you follow orders, tugging your pants down and kicking your boots off before returning to your kneeling spot on the floor.

Just as you’re about to continue, Slade speaks. “Look at me, kid.”

Humiliated, heat in your cheeks, and bare from the waist down, you look up at your mentor. For a moment you wonder what it would be like if you’d been chosen by Batman or Green Arrow instead, men with mercy. But Slade’s cutting eyes slice those thoughts like his swords do people.

“You’re mine, kid.” He says, showing nothing but sternness in all of his expression. “Every piece of you belongs to me.”

“Yes, sir.” You breathe out, mind still trying to make sense of this test but still knowing how he likes your responses.

“So when I tell you to fuck yourself, I mean it.” Slade’s eyes look over you for a moment before they float back to your own. “Both ends, boy.”

Your heart drops, air choking itself in your throat. You’ve never done that, always been too scared to. “Slade, I—“

“Fingers in your mouth first, I’ll teach you.”

Your mouth opens slightly, no sound coming out despite effort to protest. The looming idea of what Slade might do in the face of disobedience with this new context open, you raise your hand and timidly suck on a few fingers.

“That’s a good boy.” Slade chuckles. “Get them nice and coated then reach around and feel. You’ll know it when you find it.”

For a moment the image of Slade doing this to himself crosses your mind because how else would he know how to do it? 

Slowly, you pull your fingers from your mouth. For a moment you eye the way they shine in the light, then you follow orders. It feels humiliating, but that’s probably what Slade wants. Killing, dying, pain, are all easy but embarrassment is hard to take, especially in front of a superior. Your fingers slide along skin, poking between cheeks until they brush against a spot that makes you sit up straight. Your spine tingles and you can hear Slade chuckling but you keep your eyes fixed on the floor. Carefully, you poke around and manage to push a finger inside of yourself for the first time. You grit your teeth, not wanting to show weakness of any kind in front of Slade.

“Both ends, kid.” Slade scolds.

You will your other hand to stroke again, the dual sensations becoming overwhelming quickly. It hurts to fuck yourself on your fingers but there’s little tingles of pleasure in there when you push deep enough and with the new sensation, you dick finally starts to harden.

“Stop.”

You freeze, looking up at Slade with trembling muscles and twitching hands. Finally turned on and he makes you stop.

“Take a cold shower and don’t touch yourself for a month.”

He doesn’t say more, just turns and leaves you alone in the room with your dick in your hand and skin hot with need that you’re not allowed.

[ga-yuu]

About Ikegen Management Team Message!

The fact that Ikemen Genjiden Management Team formally send out a statement to thank everyone who send them supportive and kind messages after the announcement of EoS and saying that they themselves are sadder than the players itself really makes me think that Ikemen Genjiden must have been their passion project. This really feels like a shut-down that is forced rather than planned like Ikemen Revolution. Correct me, if I'm wrong, because Ikemen Revolution suddenly stopped releasing new trailers for their game out of nowhere, and sometime after, they formally announced their EoS. Usually, an EoS of a game means that, a new game announcement is right around the corner. Ikemen Revolution was killed to bring out Ikemen Villains. But I feel like Ikemen Genjiden's EoS is out of nowhere. I don't really think they planned this to happen, at least not this year. I don't know. Everything really feels sus, because they just released Kurama and Ibuki's sequel and everything was going well. Let's just wait and watch if there will actually be an announcement for a new Ikemen game this year or not.

According to them the management team haven't changed since the start of the development of the game, which means, every single member in the management team has longing memories for this game.

The story is about Rikka was already in development 2 years before the game's launch, and he is meant to be the counterpart to Tamamo and the starting point of the whole Genjiden story. According to the Management team, the story hasn't even reached its full potential yet. If the game was still on-going, we would have been able to see more crazy things unfold. It's sad that no matter how many kind words and encouragement to continue the game we sent, nothing will change because at the end of the day, it's a business and this is a strategic decision made for making profits.

The management team, did say that they will try and release as many stories as possible before the end day. So lets' look forward to that.

I really love the management team of Ikemen Genjiden. They are so creative and passionate about Ikemen Genjiden that it saddens me that the game did not get the recognition it rightfully deserves. People were asking for the English release, but they don't seem to understand that if the Japanese market doesn't do well, they won't be releasing it in English. That's why I have always been saying people to go play the Japanese app if you're that interested to play the game. But whatever. This was bound to happen someday.

When I saw the introduction of Rikka, I had hope that this game would at least go on until Rikka's story is released but I guess it did not and that makes me even more sad. Rikka is such an interesting character and I'm still dying to know more about him. I wish, if they are not going to release a main story, they at least release an event of something or give out free stories about Rikka just so that the fans could learn more about him. The fact that everything about this character is now going to disappear in fucking space.....I'm sad. I'm really really sad.

I wish that this Management Team really gets the praise that they truly deserve. I hope this same Management Team, comes together again and create new game which could be even better than Ikemen Genjiden. This Management Team has the potential to create stories that truly touches one's heart and soul. A MC like Yoshino who is so beautiful and lovable than any MC I have ever seen in my life. Eccentric but lovable suitors with very unique and some of which have never-before-seen personalities. Hilarious brain-dead nonsensical humor. Amazing and heart-touching dialogues. Beautiful music. Beautiful art style. Best cast of VAs ever. Everything about this game is so positive that I'm dying from the inside when I see my child slowly dying.

I love you, Ikemen Genjiden Management Team. You guys are literally the GOAT!!! I really hope you guys do well in the upcoming years and have more opportunities to shine!!! I'll always pray that upcoming projects get recognition it deserves!

[chimkin-samich]

Hi!

I have had a block for both writing and drawing for several years. I look at your works with longing in my eyes and think how wonderful it would be to draw regularly again. I was never particularly talented and had many gaps in learning to draw, but I enjoyed it. Now I don't know how to start drawing or writing. My laptop is full of unfinished stories. I have lots of ideas for drawings, but it's hard for me to get down to work.

Therefore, my question is: Do you have any advice for people who haven't drawn/written for several years and would really like to get back to it, but can't motivate themselves, have no ideas, etc.? Or quite the opposite. They have lots of ideas, but for some reason they can't draw anything?

Greetings and have a nice morning/day/evening/night!

Hello! Sorry it took so long to respond, I wanted to make sure I could respond properly to this so I thought it over a lot, I’m going to put it under a read more cuz it’s gonna get long lol

I (sly) am kinda in the same position as you at least when it comes more to art, writing ive kinda cracked the block but still trying to break through the ice, all the art on our blog is Ferals art, I only complete the line work and shading (but not always) I haven’t drawn any of my own stuff in probably a few years but I’m trying to get back into it cuz I miss it as well, I completely get the whole feeling of looking at Feral’s art and wanting to create my own but finding it so difficult to do

For the art aspect my plan is to start at square 1, start how I first starting drawing, which for me was to look up refs, animals and draw them by sight, just to get back into the groove of trying to bring back that muscle memory, maybe you started by tracing images, you could trace only the rough outlines and then shade and detail them, just something simply and easy, you probably won’t be happy with the results (I know I certainly won’t be with my own) but it’s a start

Look up things that you enjoy, draw your squad, incorrect quotes to do with ocs maybe even draw them out, try and keep it simple, you don’t need to create a masterpiece on the first day back, any attempt is a step forward even if you dislike it, try it out at least once a day everyday, a simple doodle just for fun or to exercise your muscle memory again, the first part is gonna be hard and messy, that’s totally ok! All that matters is the attempt!

For the writing aspect try and keep it simple as well, focus on making short one-shots or even just bullet point dialogues, your old unfinished writing isn’t going anywhere, when you feel comfortable enough to attempt to continue it just go for it!

I had a big gap in my writing periods and sometimes I still go a few months with out touching any of my stories, blocks happen and are normal, something that I try to get back into is read other people’s work, both to see the writing style and to get some inspiration to continue my own works

When I actually get down to actually writing my story I just dump down the story as I think it, I just keep writing even if it looks messy and grammatically incorrect to at least get the story moving and progressing. After I have the rough story down, is when I go back to correct spelling mistakes, add more details/dialogues or events in between to create a much better flow for the story

I usually do this multiple times for each fic I create, usually in between pauses (either due to blanking on ideas or just cuz I wasn’t feeling it) so whenever I reopen my doc, I just reread and add on, then I do it again one or two more times once it’s completed

I struggle a lot with perfectionism when it comes to my art and writing, and unfortunately it’s a big killer for my motivation, especially when I see others that make better works than me. I’ve been slowly unlearning that urge to make everything perfect, by just allowing myself to have messy and rough works, it’s not always going to come out how I want it but at least I got it as close as I could in the moment with my current skill level

I like to tell myself, the more I keep doing it, the more I’ll improve, and I’ll always be able to come back with more ideas and skill to remake this better than my first attempts, just because I did it doesn’t mean I can’t try to do it again

Being easier on yourself does wonders (I know easier said than done unfortunately 😭) but your practically having to relearn skills that have gotten rusty, even if you were doing great before, your gonna have to build back up to that point, it’s just like exercising a muscle ✨

I hope this was able to help! I wish you much luck in your journey back into art and writing!

[roosterr]

guardian angel ✹ ch 4

note: ran out of nik gifs lol. this chapter beat my ass, it took me so much longer to write than the others, im actually kinda glad its over with lmao. but anyway, this is the final part in the series, so i really hope you enjoy!!

pairing: nikolai x gn!reader

word count: 3.9k

no use of y/n, no description of reader

readers callsign in kilo '0-9'

summary: you find yourself in the middle of the lions den, with no real idea of when, or if, help will arrive. you better hope nikolai finds you fast, or you might not live another day to endure his less than appropriate flirting.

warnings: canon-typical violence, descriptions of injuries, minor character death, a little bit of angst, also a little bit of fluff, poor duolingo knowledge of russian, nik still flirting with you even though you're both kinda dying,

ao3

[three]

sitting tight in the back of the van, kattan opposite you staring holes into your head, it starts to seem more and more like you're missing something. he's watching at you with a look that's a lot more satisfied than it should be. you're already aware that you fucked up by getting in the van, but then you were under the impression that you were in control. now however, with every passing second, every bump on the road, you feel it slipping through your fingers.

as the van slowed to a stop, it became clear to you that waiting for backup to arrive was not an option – you weren't even sure they'd be able to find you, but to save your sanity you chose to ignore that thought. you had a job to do, and no matter what was about to happen, you needed to make sure baranov died; you could worry about everything else later, including how you were going to get out of this.

the door slides open to reveal baranov, who sharply gestures for you to get out. with a sideways glance to kattan, you step out into the cold air, skin prickling from the temperature or from the unease you're not sure.

you watch as they share a quick glance, and suddenly you're all too aware of how out of your depth you really are. you're not sure what they communicated, but there's no way it can be good. for a moment, the three of you just stand there, waiting for someone to make the first move, break the silence so tense you can almost feel it weighing you down.

"well?" you ask, raising a brow and looking between them with distrustful glare. they meet eyes again, more obviously this time.

"you wanted to see the weapons, they're inside." kattan says, gesturing to the warehouse behind him. it's surprisingly well kept, looking distinctly less run down than you'd expected, but still you feel the fear building in your chest. you absolutely did not want to go in there, but unless you were prepared to fight them – and however many people they have waiting inside – it looked like that was your only option.

"remember what i said," you begin, curling your nails into your palms so hard your worried you might draw blood, "if you try anything, you'll–" 

"we remember." baranov cuts you off, burning your attempt to stall until you could figure out what to do. "go inside." they way he stares at you, like he sees right through you, right through the mask covering half your face, sets off a fight or flight response in you.

"...you first." you utter, meeting baranov's glare despite the uncomfortable feeling under your skin. he gives you a suspicious, questioning look before you continue, "i don't like people walking behind me."

baranov clicks his tongue, and you see him pointedly roll his eyes as he turns around and marches through the door into the warehouse. kattan stays put, regarding you with the same unnerving look from before.

you bring your hands up to your hood, your mind drawing a blank for any more excuses to stall. you sigh quietly, and take a few hesitant steps forward. when kattan sees you move, he turns and goes through the door ahead of you. as you reluctantly follow behind him, you spare a glance back to the road you came down, hoping – praying – that your comrades find you before it's too late.

the inside of the warehouse is filled with various crates and locked containers, which you can only assume are all filled with less than legal merchandise. the lights above you flicker every now and then as you follow kattan deeper into the building. times like this make you wish things could just be easy – if this op had gone to plan, you'd already be sound asleep in your bed by now.

kattan comes to a stop next to baranov, in front of an open crate. "there." kattan crosses his arms over his chest, nodding his head to the crate with a stony expression.

you gulp, taking a cautious step forward and examining the weapons inside. the crate is full of a seemingly random assortment of weapons – not at all what was mentioned in the intel you'd gathered. 

you feel your stomach drop all the way to the floor.

"is there a problem?" baranov snaps. your eyes must've betrayed your thoughts.

you refocus your expression, instilling whatever confidence you have left into your voice as you reply, "this isn't what we agreed–" 

"enough." he cuts you off, taking a stride forward as you step back. "this game has gone on long enough, sergeant." baranov hisses, watching your wide eyes flit between the both of them.

"...right." you mutter, removing your mask and shoving it into your pocket, "i guess i was a little optimistic."

"i'll admit, you're committed. but," kattan steps forward as well, pulling a gun from his waistband and pointing it at you, "i'm afraid that won't save you this time." he gives you a smug smirk as he takes yet another step closer to you.

"afraid not." you grit your teeth, muscles tightly wound as you follow kattan with your eyes. you think back to the look he had in the van earlier, and realise with a surge of anger that they'd both known the entire time.

you look to baranov, closing the weapons crate with his back turned to you. looking back to kattan, with his cocky smirk as he slowly advances on you.

just one more step, a little bit closer–

you swing your arm up, grab kattan's hand holding the gun and push upwards, narrowly missing taking a bullet to the face. he struggles to wrench his arm free, but you pull him forward and use his momentum to shove him to the ground on his stomach. you bend his arm unnaturally behind him, causing him to reflexively loosen his grip, enough for you to snatch the gun from him. without a moment of hesitation, you press the barrel to the back of his ribcage and squeeze the trigger.

the gunshot echoes through the warehouse, and your ears ring with the aftershock.

a wet cough escapes kattan as you push yourself to stand, a pool of crimson already forming underneath his body. you turn around and raise your arm to shoot baranov too, but you find the place where he was standing empty.

"fuck!" you groan, your eyes scanning the area nearby for any trace of where he could've gone. he could be hiding around any corner, and in a warehouse literally filled with guns, you didn't like your odds.

before you could think too much about it however, the sound of heavy footfalls reaches your ears from further into the warehouse. you could tell they were getting closer, and in a split second of panic, you decide to take cover behind a stack of crates before they see you.

just as you duck out of sight, you count five armed men coming around the corner to where you were just standing. you focus on calming your breathing and your rapid heart rate, watching as one of them crouches and inspects kattan's body. the rest of them look around, presumably on the look out for you.

you lean more around the corner, bringing your gun up and pointing the barrel squarely at the man next to kattan's body – the one closest to your hiding spot.

with a deep breath, you pull the trigger and hiss a curse as he moves at the last second and clutches his leg where you hit. you fire two more shots at the others, hitting one in the chest and cursing again as the other narrowly misses your target.

the remaining three finally gather their senses, returning fire at where you hide and forcing you to take cover again. your breathing has picked up again, blood rushing in your ears and drawing out the sound of bullets flying towards you.

there's a pause, but before you can react, a hand grasps your shoulder from behind and slams your shoulder back into the crate. you try to point your gun at the assailant, but he rips it from your grasp and tosses it to the ground out of reach, pointing his own gun at you as you struggle. 

shit– one of baranov's men must've crept up behind you in the chaos.

he shoves you to the ground, restraining your arms behind your back and clicking a pair of cuffs far too tightly around your wrists. he pulls you roughly onto your feet and shoves you back out into the open, where baranov and the other two men stand waiting.

"you two– watch the perimeter." baranov commands, never once taking his chilling glare off of you. the other two nod, before turning and disappearing the way you'd came in.

baranov brings your attention back to him by stepping forward and gathering the front of your hoodie in his fist. for a moment, he holds your stare, giving you that same cold look that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

with a disdainful scoff, he pulls you from the other man's grip and shoves you to the floor again, dropping you aggressively against a metal shelving unit that makes your vision blur as your head collides with it. you blink, ears still ringing and a warm wet feeling growing on the back of your head.

"you are such a pain in my ass, kilo 0-9." he growls, crouching in front of you and watching as you try to regain your senses. a pained groan leaves your throat, and you squint at his unfocused figure at your feet.

"...i try my best," you mumble, subtly tugging at the cuffs binding you. to your frustration, even dislocating your thumb wouldn't help you to get out of them they were so tight. "...but maybe i'm just a natural–"

"заткни пасть!" baranov roars, delivering a harsh slap to your face. your head snaps to the side, your vision once again swimming and the sick feeling in your stomach only growing stronger. "i will make you pay for what you did, you annoying little доносчик." he stands again, his form towering over you and his shadow blocking the flickering light from above.

“i had everything, i was on top of the world. i’d finally gotten everything i’d ever wanted,” he begins, nothing but pure malice in his eyes as he glares down at where you sit, still reeling from your head injury, “until you took it all away from me!”

"and for what? a paycheck? a pathetic little sense of victory?" he spits, kicking your leg as he slowly paces before you. "i worked all my life for that empire! and you burned it all to the ground, like it was nothing!"

you feel hot blood trickle down the back of your neck, the urge to vomit still not leaving you, and you pray to anyone who would listen that somebody finds you soon, because with the way your vision is still blurred at the edges, you don’t think you’ll get out of this on your own.

baranov abruptly stops his pacing, running a had through his hair in an erratic display of anger. “i thought killing you would be enough, that revenge would satisfy me, but i’ve changed my mind, sergeant.” he’s not shouting anymore, instead his voice is low and quiet, but no less threatening. he turns his head to look at you from the corner of his eyes.

“you see, simply killing you would be satisfying, of course. that was my original plan; lure you in with something i know you self-righteous hero types can’t resist,” he says, waving his arms to emphasise his words, “but then it would be over. you would be dead, and you’d never be truly sorry for how you wronged me.”

even through the fog in your mind, you feel a cold dread building inside you. baranov turns to face you fully.

“so, thats why i’ve decided instead to make you suffer.” he crouches down again, closer than he'd been before.

“i will make you watch," he grabs your throat, pulling you closer still, "as i destroy the things you care about, just like you did to me.” his voice is just above a whisper.

“commander karim,” he squeezes your airway, “the american,” squeezing tighter as you desperately try to breathe in, “and of course, your precious little pilot.”

“no…” you wheeze, rattling your cuffs as you squirm in baranov's grasp. the edges of your vision darken for a moment, and you let your unfocused gaze drift from his sharp grin.

behind him, in the shadows of the stacks of crates and shelves, something catches your eye through the blurriness. a glint of reflected light from the yellowish bulb overhead, behind the man who'd dragged you earlier. you seem to be the only one to notice the fourth presence.

“they will all die, because of you.” baranov finally releases you, once again shoving you back against the metal shelving. you cough once, twice, your breaths ragged and eyes glaring daggers at baranov as he stands again to tower over you.

“you won’t…” you draw your legs into your chest, glaring up at him with renewed defiance. he takes one menacing step towards your curled up form, that insufferable smirk still pulling at his lips.

“oh,” he chuckles darkly, “i will.”

you scoff, and with all the force you can muster, you shoot your legs out to collide with one of baranov's ankles. he stumbles back, regaining his balance a few paces away from you, but he's a second too late – the figure in the darkness has already leapt out and sunk their blade into the neck of baranov's guard, ripping it out of his flesh and throwing it in baranov's direction.

you watch as the knife ricochets off a stack of crates and clatters to the ground next to baranov, already struggling to get your cuffed wrists in front of your body in your dazed state. the mystery person tackles baranov before he can fully recover, sending them both tumbling to the ground and grappling for control over the other.

your heart practically soars when you realise it's nik, pinning baranov to the ground and landing a blow to his face that felt extremely personal.

somewhere in the struggle, baranov gets a hold of the knife, swinging his arm and catching nik in the stomach just below his vest before you can warn him. your head is pounding, the ache from being thrown around earlier catching up to you and making it that much harder to focus.

baranov rolls them over, on top of nik now as he clutches the laceration with one hand and resists baranov's attempt to stab him again with the other. a grunt escapes you as you finally manage to get your cuffed wrists over your legs, feeling the muscles in your shoulder stretch painfully – another injury to slow you down, but you couldn't think about that right now.

despite the pain clouding your senses, you push yourself up to crouch, wobbling slightly before you find your balance. for a second you watch the pair grapple with each other on the floor, mind racing to think of a way to help nik without allowing baranov to hurt him any further.

you have to get them off each other, is the only thought you can come up with, so before you can hesitate you launch yourself onto baranov's back, hooking the chain of your cuffs in front of his neck and dragging him backwards with all your weight.

the knife falls to the floor again, out of reach of either of you. with all the strength you can muster, you pull the cuffs towards yourself in an effort to cut off baranov's airway. he thrashes in your hold, desperately trying to wedge his fingers in between the metal and his flesh. but in your slightly concussed state, he manages to catch you off guard and throw his head back, landing a strike to your nose, which stuns you enough for him to rip himself out of your grasp.

your head spins all over again, eyes watering and blurry as you feel baranov twist and pin you beneath him. his hand goes to your neck, and through your distorted vision you see his other pull back in a fist aiming squarely at your face.

you flinch, bracing to be hit, but the impact never comes; nikolai sinks the knife once into the side of his neck, and again into his chest, before grabbing his body and shoving him off of you.

you watch as baranov sputters, your own chest heaving as you take in some much needed air. nik searches through baranovs pockets, pulling back with a tiny silver key in his hand – the key for the handcuffs. he takes your bruised wrists into his hands, his touch unbelievably gentle, unlocking the cuffs and discarding them to the side.

he slumps down beside you, close enough thar his shoulder touches yours, and his hand cradling the stab wound on his stomach. a moment passes where neither of you move, still reeling from your injuries and the fight as you massage the raw skin of your wrists.

"thank you," you murmur once your vision finally stops spinning, shuffling to face nik and placing your hand on his arm, "you saved my life…"

"does that mean i'm your guardian angel now?" he chuckles, groaning when his abdomen shifts painfully. your head pulses, your own injuries catching up to you, but that back of your head seems to have stopped bleeding so you decide it can wait. you'd rather take care of him first anyway.

"i guess it does," you give him a weak smile in return, before undoing the straps of his vest, "now let me patch you up before your bleed to death." he chuckles again, sitting up so you can lift the vest over his head and set it down on the floor. you turn to the side, looking through the different packs until you find the one with basic medical supplies; bandages, disinfectant, and sutures – though you sincerely hoped you wouldn't have to do any stitching.

you hear nik move again, and the shuffle of fabric, and look back at him to find him pulling off his shirt. completely and utterly distracted from what you were doing, you feel an unmistakable heat rise to your face as you study the way his chest rises and falls, a thin sheen of sweat–

"if you wanted to undress me, all you had to do was ask," nik's teasing voice breaks you out of your trance. your eyes snap to his, the amused expression he wears only making the embarrassment worse.

"oh, shush…" you mumble, look back down to the medical supplies in your lap and willing your heart to slow down – he was still injured, you needed to take care of that before it became a problem. you grab his hand and place it on your shoulder, "just tap me if it hurts too much, okay?"

"конечно." he gives you a small, reassuring squeeze. you smile tightly, and begin to disinfect the laceration. thankfully, it wasn't too deep, so you wouldn't have to demonstrate your awful stitching skills. 

despite the circumstances, he looks ethereal above you; his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut, his rippling muscles glistening with sweat and a firm grip on your shoulder. it takes everything in you to concentrate on patching him up instead of gawking at the way the dim light of the warehouse hits the shape of his body.

after successfully stopping the bleeding without getting too distracted, you finish up by securing the gauze with a tight bandage. you look up from your work to find nik already looking at you, with the same look in his eyes from the night before, when you watched the stars together.

"i'm so glad you're okay, милая." nik smiles, cupping the side of your face with the hand not covered in blood. you feel the warmth of him seeping into your clammy skin. his touch has a calming effect on you, instantly soothing your overactive mind.

"i'm glad you found me," you smile back, leaning into his palm and bringing your own hand up to cover his, "sorry for getting us into this mess in the first place." you mutter, your gaze falling to the floor with a twinge of guilt.

"there's no need to apologise, дорогая." he caresses your face with his thumb, tilting your head slightly to bring your eyes back to his. you give him a meek nod, and mirror the tiny smile he wears.

you move to sit next to him again, sighing as you rest against the cold shelves. the two of you sit in relative quiet for a moment or two, listening to your own exhausted breathing and the hum of the lights.

"nice aim, by the way." you nod your head towards baranov's body.

"really?"

"yeah," you reply, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, "knife went right past him."

nik laughs, airy and tired, and lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulders "ah, now you're making fun of me." he chuckles, looking at you with an amused light in his eyes.

"that's the second time you've missed, isn't it?" you tease, feeling his arm tighten around you.

"тихо…" he grumbles, shaking his head with lightheardted disapproval, "but for the record, i'm glad i missed the first time." his gaze softens as he examines your faces, his other hand coming back up to cup the side of your jaw.

"you better be." you murmur, suddenly very aware of his still bare chest as he pulls you closer to him. 

"after all, if i'd shot you," his voice is just above a whisper, the space between you so small you can feel his warm breath on your face. with the hand on your jaw, he brings you even closer, resting his forehead against yours as your eyes flutter closed, "i would never get to do this."

without another moment of hesitation, you feel his lips against yours, passionate yet gentle as you sigh into him. your arm comes up to loop around his neck, his hand moving to the back of your head to press you further into the kiss. you're momentarily reminded of the ache in your head, but it's an afterthought as you press yourself flush against him.

the heat in your chest, your face, your whole body, is burning, heart racing faster than you'd ever felt it as nikolai's mouth moves against yours. you feel his stubble prickle against your skin as he tilts his head further, his tongue swiping across your lips.

when the need for air gets too much, you reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, nikolai chasing your lips and giving you one last peck before you get too far away. he smiles warmly at you, coaxing a similar expression to light up your own face.

"so, are farah and alex coming to get us, or…?"

"my hero…" you whisper, earning a grin for nik as he strokes your cheek with his thumb. you rest your head in the crook of his shoulder and chest, revelling quiet in the moment between the two of you; and for the first time in a long time, you feel a genuine spark of happiness ignite in your chest.

"...бляаты… i will tell them i found you…"

[justmochi]

past lover

pairing :: eden x seokmin

word count :: 1.6k

synopsis :: seokmin tells eden about his dating history

time :: october, 2020

a/n :: so i wanted to be a bit imaginative and try out something new. you know how i write my ocs talking about their dating past but never from her endgames pov so i wanted to test it out. OFC I HAVE NOOOO IDEA about dk's dating history so this is purely fiction!!! have fun reading and lmk what you think c':

taglist :: @cafemilk-tea @cixrosie @moonlight-additions @cosmicwintr @astraw-astro @ateezjuliet @fromfreesia @succulentmom @kimhyejin3108 @enhacolor @multiplums @alixnsuperstxr @meginthebuilding27 @kang-ulzzang @hybesunstone @allthings-fandoms @itzy-eve @choihaneul @strmiu @angie-x3 @Kaitieskidmore1 @evaalopezzzz

“You’ve never told me.” Eden decided to press on. They were a year into their relationship now and there have only been brief mentions about Seokmin’s dating history. He knew so much about her past heartbreak, even tagged along for most of it, but she knew almost nothing of his.

“What?” He turned his head, looking up at her. He lay between her legs, his jacket covering her from touching the grass.

After having dinner, they decided to just walk wherever their feet would take them. They ended up at Han River, having their own patch of grass to themselves and taking in the beauty of the evening. The bridge was so bright and how it shone onto the water was breathtaking. If they had known they would’ve ended up here, they would have packed a basket fit for a picnic.

She squeezed her arms tighter around him, removing her attention from the people passing by to him. A curve tugged on her lips, leaning down to press her forehead to his. “You’ve never told me about her. The special girl.”

He scoffed, looking forward again and folding his hands over his stomach. She could feel him tense under her touch.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m just curious is all. You’ve seen me at my ugliest moments and I wouldn’t mind knowing about the lucky girl who brought you to me.” She stops for a moment, rearranging her words. “Well actually, that would make her unlucky because she’s missing out on a wonder of a boy.”

He chuckled nervously, bringing one of his hands up to tap along her wrist. “I don’t think she really sees herself as lucky.”

“That’s impossible. Anyone would be so lucky to be loved by you.” She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he mustered up even the slightest smile. “Tell me. I’d love to know.”

He took in a deep breath, shifting underneath her as his butt grew numb after being in contact with the hard ground for too long. Not even the jacket was a good enough cushion for them. “I met her in 2017. We were having a company dinner and she was one of the waitresses. I could tell she was from my hometown from her dialect, so that made her all the more interesting to me.”

“Ooh, so she was from your hometown.” Eden showed she was interested. However, knowing that another girl had his heart before her made her a bit jealous. She tried not to harbor too many bad feelings toward the girl because she was fortunate enough to have scored Seokmin. It didn’t matter though because he was hers now.

“Yep. That was enough to draw me in.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, Continue.” She patted his chest, rocking them back and forth gently.

He cleared his throat, smiling. “I decided to shoot my shot. Live on the edge for once. God, I humiliated myself just by asking for her number. She was three years older than me. She was about to become a teacher too. After a week of talking, I was really naive and fell hard. And a month later I decided to open my heart to her. I wanted to give her my love, my support, my patience. I wanted to give her my heart. I really would’ve handed my heart to anyone during that time. I didn’t care about the consequences as long as I had someone to call mine.”

She gripped him tighter, resting her chin on top of his head as she listened. By the way he was talking, he was going to suffer a heartbreak like hers. And that thought killed her.

“She was just getting out of a relationship that broke her heart. That should have been my first sign. But I wanted to help her heal by showing her that I had so much more to offer. So we started dating. I was patient throughout our whole relationship but it felt weird. She was always emotionally unavailable and I felt like I was walking on eggshells around her. She wasn’t mean or jealous or whatever normal couples go through these days. It wasn’t loveless because I did love her, but it wasn’t mutual. And I could feel her try to reciprocate my feelings at times but she wasn’t a good liar.

“She got busy. I had assumed it was because she just started teaching. I was right in some sense. We had schedules so I got busy too. I didn’t know how to tell her that I wanted to take a break. I thought I was a coward for wanting to take a break, but I didn’t want us to drift apart like everyone else. But then she beat me to it and said her ex wanted to get back together with her and she was going to do it. And she did it all over text.”

Eden didn’t even realize she was crying. Not until the tears fell off her face and onto his hair. He looked up to make sure it wasn’t raining. When he saw her glassy eyes, he quickly broke free of her arms and onto his knees.

“Hey, don’t cry!” His features softened as he cupped her cheeks, wiping the tears away. “This is my heartbreak. Not yours.”

“I’m sorry,” She blinked away the tears, bringing her hands up and resting them over his. “I just- I wasn’t expecting this.”

It was hard to imagine him loving anyone before her. But he did and she didn’t feel the same way about him. The thought of someone like Seokmin having so much love in him that he wanted to share it with another person. And they took advantage of it. He wanted it to so desperately work out but she betrayed his love.

“It’s okay, E. Really. I’m fine now.” He kissed her forehead. “I was sad and heartbroken. It hurt a lot after we broke up but I know my worth and heart now. The right person would come around eventually.” He found her gaze, smiling as their eyes met. “And you did.”

Eden smiled, shaking her head as she sniffled. “I did.”

“Yes, you did.” He sat flat on his bottom again, letting go of her face and finding her hands. He squeezed them firmly. “We had been broken up for a few months when I met you. And that night when you had told me your name and we both knew who each other was, I felt whole again. I fell for you in no time but you were unavailable and so I dealt with it. I kept everything to myself because I didn’t want to mess up what we had. It was the most precious thing I’ve had in my life. I wasn’t going to overwhelm you when everything was still so fresh for you. I wouldn’t make the same mistake. Keeping you close as a friend was better than not having you at all.”

She leaned forward, her head pressing into his chest. “I just- I can’t wrap my head around someone hurting you. The thought of you being hurt like that, I hate it.” She groaned, getting over her tears and only feeling anger towards the girl. “You’re the sweetest person I know. How could anyone stand to live with themselves if they hurt you?”

He let out a soft, quiet laugh as he placed his hands on her arms, rubbing up and down. “I can't hate her for breaking my heart. It could have been much worse. It taught me a lot of things.”

She raised her head, wiping her tears and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “Well, I do. She’s gonna find out everything she’s missing out on and it’s gonna be too late for her.”

The wind picked up, blowing against their cheeks as Seokmin snorted. He brushed her hair out of her face, closing in to give her a kiss on the nose. “You’re cute, you know that?”

She rolled her eyes, leaning in to give him a long kiss on the lips. When she pulled away, she caressed his cheeks with her hands, making sure his gaze was on her. “Whoever she is, I hate her but I also thank her. No one loves like you do and that is her loss. She will get her heart broken again and realize just how lucky she was to have been with you.”

The blood rushed to his cheeks, trying not to stray away from her eyes but he couldn’t help it without how flustered he became.

She smiled but gained her serious expression again, pressing her thumb to his mole. “But now you’re mine. And I am never going to let you go.”

He rested his palms on her neck, eyes falling to her lips as the corners of his curved upwards. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me.” He tips his head forward, capturing her lips and tasting the faint saltiness of her past tears.

She kisses him back, hands falling down and pressing against his chest. Their surroundings were blurred out. There were few people around them but they couldn't care about whoever saw them. All that mattered was them. 

When they finally pulled away to catch their breaths, Eden pressed her forehead to his, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. But now you’re with me and I’m gonna love you like you deserve. You’re never getting rid of me, Lee Seokmin.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[currentlyfckingurmom]

Real Cowboys Don’t Run

Natasha Romanoff x female!OC

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit, eyepatch.”

“I think you’ll find yourself talking in no time, cowgirl.”

She smirked, feeling the dried blood on her face crack with the motion. The pain was excruciating but she’d never show it. She’s been through worse interrogations. Torture that not even SHIELD—corrupted as they are—could match.

“How about we start with a name?”

She merely yawns, looking around the dark concrete room.

“No? Alright then. You like steak? Lobster? Been a while since you ate.”

“I could go for some Mac n cheese. The box kind.” She says blankly.

“Really? You are not kidding right now?” She merely shrugs. “Fine then.”

He leaves the room and she’s left alone with nothing but silence and the metal cuffs digging into her skin. She breathes slowly, ensuring no aspect of her body language changes. She knows they’re watching.

2 hours and 43 minutes later—she counts each second that passes—a redhead woman stalks into the room. She sits carefully in the metal chair across from her. She does nothing but stare for 57 seconds. “Who are you?” The redhead finally asks. The blonde offers no response. Not even a twitch. “How about a name? Doesn’t even have to be a real one.” Absolutely nothing.

Natasha doesn’t show it, but she’s unnerved by the steely exterior. Never before had she been unable to read someone. She had perfected the art of body language at a disturbingly young age. Interrogations were her forte.

The stare down continues, neither party giving an inch.

“Look, I don’t know who you are. I don’t care. I just want to know why you were sneaking around that facility. If you pose no threat, you’ll be free to go.”

The blonde knows that’s a lie. They would never just let her go. But she won’t show it. Never give them anything, because a good interrogator will use anything and everything against you.

“Well since you’re feeling a bit shy, I’ll carry this conversation for the both of us. We tried to run prints but they’ve been burned off. Likely hydrochloric acid, according to forensics. Was it forced? Or did you do it willingly? Made killing a little easier, did it? One less thing to worry about?”

People usually jostle when she brings up the subject of murder, but the woman doesn’t move an inch. Natasha is having fun with this, though she knows she shouldn’t be.

“And then there’s the fact that you simply don’t exist. We ran facial recognition, DNA, toe prints, everything. Searched millions of records for something that might resemble you. Absolutely nothing. So tell me, where did you come from?” She leans forward.

The blonde woman smiles. “A farm.”

“Ah, yes. The cowgirl. I like the hat. And the belt buckle. It’s a cute touch,” she gestures to the silver buckle at the woman’s waist. “Tell me about this farm. Are we talking a normal farm? Or a place that breeds serial killers and mercenaries?”

“Cows. Potatoes.”

“Cows and potatoes. Nice. No serial killers?” The woman shakes her head in denial. “So why talk now? Why tell me this and not the goons who spent hours trying to beat it out to you?” The blonde offers no response. “C’mon, just tell me. Weak spot for beautiful women?”

The woman smiles slightly at that. It’s calculated, Natasha thinks. “Because no matter how much I tell you, Natalia Romanova, you will never get what you want. You caught me because I let you. You will never know who I am because I am no one. I am a ghost. Merely a puppet in the shadows. I cannot be broken. Believe me when I say many have tried and failed. I will tell you this much: I am not HYDRA, but I am not on your side. There are no sides in this game, Agent. I do what I need to. It has nothing to do with you. Never has, never will.”

Just like that, she leans back in her chair, her face set in stone once more. Natasha nods and leaves, refusing to show the anxiety she feels about the fact that the woman knows her name. Her real name.

One hour and twelve minutes later, several agents enter the interrogation room. They unchain her from the chair, leaving the cuffs on her wrists. After a bag is placed over her head, she’s escorted to another room. This one is a cell. With a toilet and even a blanket. There are no windows, but it’s an improvement. The cuffs arw removed and she is left alone in the cell.

Eventually a tray of Mac N cheese and a bottle of water is slid through a slot in the thick metal door. She eats it without worrying about poison, knowing they would’ve killed her by now if that’s what they wanted to do.

~

Tucked in the corner of the cell, she breathed deep and slow as she let her body sink to the floor before pushing through her pinky fingers, raising her body back up. Her feet remained still and straight in the air as she went through the exercise, determined to stay in shape throughout her captivity.

She slowly moves into a planche, loving the way her muscles strain with the movement. When the door beeps and clicks and the redhead enters, she doesn’t flinch. Agent Romanoff leans against a wall and watches.

The blonde woman moves into a tuck planche before sitting on the ground and taking a swig of water. “You like watching, do you?” Agent Romanoff says nothing but smirks. The blonde stands and wipes her face with a towel, leaving the rest of her body sweaty in her black sports bra and sweatpants. She watches Romanoff’s eyes as they move down her body, taking in the tattoos and scars.

“That’s a lot of scars for a cowboy.”

“I’ve been in my fair share of rodeos.”

“Touché. Do the tats mean anything?”

“They mean everything. But you’d never be able to figure it out.”

“I know. You’re an enigma. I’ve learned that by now.” She unlocks a door, revealing a basic shower. “Get cleaned up. You stink.”

When the blonde emerges from the shower—feeling much better, though she’d never admit it—there’s a fresh pair of sweatpants, underwear, and a t-shirt waiting for her. She gets changed and takes a seat on the concrete floor.

“Get up, we have places to be,” Natasha says as she enters the cell.

The blonde doesn’t budge. “Were you standing out there watching me change? That’s a bit creepy, Agent Romanoff.”

“You’re a prisoner. You’re being watched 24/7.” The woman’s smirk tells Natasha that she already knew that.

She stands and follows the agent out the cell door. “No cuffs?” The blonde asks.

“No cuffs. Don’t make me regret it.”

The woman chooses to remain silent, following Natasha through the maze of white hallways. They arrive at a conference room, a familiar man inside.

“Eyepatch! Nice to see you again.”

“Cowboy. Wish I could say the same.”

“Why did you drag me out of the comfort of my cell?”

“Well, glad to know you’ve settled in nicely. We’re done with these games, cowboy. We’re gonna sit down and talk like adults.” He gestures to a seat across from him and the woman takes it, showing no signs of nervousness.

“How may I be of assistance to you, Director Nick Fury?”

“You are very good. I will give you that. But I am better, Hallyn Chase.” He tries to shock her with the knowledge of her name, just as she’s done to them.

Hallyn remains stoic for several seconds before bursting into laughter. “That’s it? Seriously? I’ve been here for two weeks and all you’ve got is my name? That’s cute.”

“Your name is all I needed. Now we can have an actual, civil conversation. So tell me, Hallyn, why were you at the facility?”

Hallyn sighs, shaking her head with a click of the tongue. “I needed information. A friend of mine went MIA a while back. Just trying to find him.”

“Does this friend have a name?”

“Well, yes, he’s not an animal,” she states obviously.

“You’re not gonna tell me his name, are you?”

“No, no I am not, Eyepatch.”

“Well I appreciate the honesty. Moving on. You’re very skilled. What’s your background?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Can’t you?”

“You know I can’t. And I won’t.”

“I gotta say, my first impression of you was military. But there’s no record of you. So special ops maybe? CIA even?” He asks the question even though he’s already fairly certain of the answer. He slides a picture across the table to her. Three MARSOC uniforms stand side by side, weapons in hand. Every face and name is blurred out. Hallyn merely raises a brow. “That’s you in the middle, is it not?”

“At one point that was me. Not anymore.”

“That’s what I thought. So you enlist in the marines, go into special forces, and kick ass. You get promoted to a team that’s so secretive, even I don’t know the name. Maybe you still work for them, maybe you’ve gone rogue. I don’t know. I don’t care. What I do wanna know is if you are a threat to me and my organization.”

“Nick Fury, the only threat to your organization is the one that’s already penetrated it.”

His eyebrows furrow. “What are you talking about?”

“I think you know. I think you’ve suspected it for a while but didn’t want to believe it. But Steve Rogers cut off one head. Another one was bound to grow back.” His one good eye goes wide as Hallyn leans back in her seat. “May I go home now?”

“Does someone like you have a home?” Romanoff asks.

“No,” she answers honestly.

“You can stay here for the time being. Under close surveillance. Play this smart, and you just might find that I can be a useful ally.”

“I don’t need an ally.”

“Maybe not. But I guess we’ll see.” He nods at Romanoff and she grabs Hallyn’s arm, signaling her to stand. Hallyn gives Fury a nod before following the redhead.

Natasha leads Hallyn to a different floor in silence. They end up in a basic bedroom with a small attached bathroom. The walls and bedspread are white, much like a hotel.

“This will be your room for the time being. There are cameras in the bedroom and directly outside the door. None in the bathroom, don’t worry. You will be heavily monitored, but behave yourself and you just might earn a bit of leeway.”

“Really? That’s it? You guys snatch me up, beat the shit out of me, lock me in a cell, and then give me a bedroom and freedom?”

“Yes. Because for some reason, Directory Fury seems to trust you. Frankly I’m not sure what he sees.”

“Me neither. But I will not betray you, Agent Romanoff. You are not my mission.”

“What is your mission?”

“I’m not quite sure anymore.”

She hesitates for a moment. “What happened to you?”

“That’s a conversation for another day.” Hallyn answers vaguely.

Series Masterlist

[quinloki]

Hiii! I wanted to ask about Thatch, Sanji, and Killer with Nyotaimori, body painting, and service kink? Thank you so much! I love all of these fun combinations of characters and kinks

Oh I have been looking forward to this once since I first saw it in my notices <3

And yes! Yes - I am enjoying all these combinations as well ^_^ It has been educating, entertaining, and Fun! (and everyone's been good too, so no one's wandered in harshed someone's mellow.)

Alright, for those - like me - who didn't recognize the term - Nyotaimori is the act of eating sushi off someone's naked body. I remember seeing it once in a movie some many years ago (probably when I was too young to be watching said movie, honestly XD ) and today I learned what it was called \o/

Alright, let's get cooking with some cooks from the Grandline and see how much or how little, they like to play with food (and with their food) in the "bedroom" <3

Thatch:

Nyotaimori - FUCK Yes - This man spends months perfecting making sushi once you suggest this activity. It wasn't a specialty of his before hand, but it's about to be by the time all is said and done. The main event is hardly even the actual main event. The time spent before hand kind of steals the spotlight. Thatch insists on matching the subtle and gentle flavors of the sushi assortment to your taste, this smooth bastard. If he's not in the kitchen, or on duty and dealing with work, he's kissing, licking, and eating you out, and he's always talking about flavor combinations.

the day of the main event he's picked out specific soap and shampoo for you and arranges everything on you just so. It's not overly artistic in appearance, but the taste and scent combination is almost perfect. Of course he shares, but about halfway through there's garnish and sushi on the floor and you're in his bed.

Body Painting - Yes - Just a little less enthused for this than the Nyotaimori. Edible body painting is fairly restrictive - bright colors often come with strong flavors, and finding harmony and balance is a little difficult. Thatch isn't much of an artist either, his cooking is almost completely functional - nutritional and efficient. I mean, neither Pops nor his boys are concerned about a dressed plate - they're barely concerned about dressing themselves the open-shirt heathens.

But the evening turns into more of a matter of the two of you, uh, finger painting one another, and it doesn't take long for it to turn into a messy romp of moans and pleasure. Culminating in giggles and laughter as you're trying to figure out how to make it to the bath in your body-paint slathered state.

Service Kink - Sure - Thatch is more than happy to serve you. He'll ham it up and put on a terrible french accent, and talk all fancy pants about the sauces and ingredients in the dishes he brings you. He'll rub your shoulders, and your feet and grin like a dork the entire time.

The blush on his face is worth everything when you serve him a few days later. You wax poetically (and probably incorrectly) about the dishes you did your best to make, and rub his shoulders while whispering praises into his very red ears.

Sanji:

Nyotaimori - FUCK Yes - You almost laugh. Almost. But walking into the private room set aside for your date night, you see Sanji covered in well-prepared sushi, and completely naked - save for a tie. You should've seen it coming, Sanji feeds people, he doesn't often get fed. You happily let him walk you through the process, eating in the order he suggestion. His voice cracks the first time you lean down and eat straight from his body, instead of using chopsticks to pick up the item first. That adorable red face continues to walk you through the meal.

We'll say that he certainly, uh, rises to the occasion and by the end of your meal he obliges your request that he fill the role of dessert.

Body Painting - Sure - It's not the most efficient use of food, and the waste associated with it does dampen some of Sanji's usual energy. An artist in a few different ways, painting wasn't ever a really strong suit for him (plate service, dancing, and instruments like piano and guitar are his creative outlets in my head canons). He quickly catches on that the quality of the artwork is hardly the concern, and his favorite part of the whole thing were the arrows and instructions you painted on yourself.

Service Kink - Oh god you totally saw this coming - SANJI?! With a Service Kink? None of us - okay, okay, we all saw it coming. He excels at it, and he really enjoys lavishing you with service and attention without having to worry or consider anyone else.

When you flip the tables on him (heh), he actually needs a few minutes. So completely overwhelmed by the gesture you nearly end up scraping the session. Sanji doesn't receive service, he gives it, and it took a good twenty minutes to get the emotional tangle sorted out. You're just glad he's open with you enough that he didn't try to play off being overwhelmed.

In the end he rated you 13/10 - would recommend to everyone except Zoro. The marimo simply wouldn't appreciate your amazing-ness.

Killer:

Nyotaimori - Yes - Killer has a little bit of a panic moment with this - he's not a sushi chef. He's barely a chef chef. He's a hobby chef with a focus on pasta and years of experimenting to make him a decent ship's cook that's efficient and effective enough to keep a bunch of rough necks fed and free of scurvy. He makes DELICIOUS food, don't get me wrong, but there's no formal training anywhere in his past.

In the end, everything turns out fine. There's an extra layer added, since you requested to be blindfolded for it. There was just something embarrassing about laying there without moving, but the blindfold might have been a bad idea, because Killer is hard to detect when you're looking right at him. The light touches as he enjoyed his meal turned into the final touches before he enjoyed his dessert >.>

Body Painting - FUCK Yes - Surprisingly artistic, Killer rarely has a chance to create artistically - he's just too busy. Painting flowers on you, licking his "mistakes" away, (edible paints, of course), accidentally smearing places to fix them over and over, teasing you with the softest flicks of the brushes, you both revel in the quiet intimacy of it.

I sense this morphing into like, suspension shibari + painting, at some point. Decorative knots enhanced by scenes painted on your skin. (whew).

Service Kink - You could imagine the look on Killer's face at this suggestion without even having to see his face. But, there's no letting the overworked and underappreciated second in command even consider serving you. The whole night was about serving Killer. You coordinated the crew for the day, had others take care of the meals, and moved the blonde hunk from one venue to the next to relax. A long hot bath, shoulder and neck rubs several times throughout the day, brushed out his hair a few times. Fed him snacks and pampered him. He fell asleep a couple times and you just made sure he didn't stay in an uncomfortable position for long when that happened.

Oh god he didn't even know.

Kinky One Piece Head Canon

[freedomfireflies]

Mr. & Mrs. Hey Soul Sister | Part 4

“All right, let’s go over the ground rules.”

With a crack of your knuckles, you settle back into the cushions, ready to recall your list as Harry crosses his arms and prepares from the other side of the sofa.

He nods his chin toward you. “Fine. Go.”

“Number one…I don’t like you.”

His smirk deepens as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “Got it.”

“Number two…this—” You lean forward, gesturing between your bodies. “—is not a marriage. This is a business deal. You don’t want the bad press and I wouldn’t mind getting my mom off my back about dating.”

He quirks his brow upward, clearly amused. “Right.”

“Right. Number three…we give it five months and if I’m right and you’re just as fucking annoying as I think you are, then we’re getting a divorce. End of story.”

He hesitates, mulling over the proposition before he nods and straightens up. “Fine. Yeah, fine. But I have some conditions myself.”

A bit surprised, and eager to hear what he could possibly have come up with, you snort, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” His eyes find yours. “For starters, if we’re gonna do this, then we need to commit. No half-ass-ing it.”

Offended, your jaw drops. “Hey. I’m not the one with commitment issues here—”

“Second, you’ll need to come with me to a few events,” he carries on. “Couple premieres, a few parties, and at least one show.”

“Yeah…no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going to be paraded around like a trophy,” you argue, and he snorts.

“Trust me, darling, you’re no trophy,” he corrects and your eyes narrow. “The whole point of the lie is selling it. If you don’t act like my wife, no one will believe you really are. Which brings me to another thing.”

You wait, fingers tapping your thigh.

“You need to move in with me.”

“What?” A frown finds your lips as you lean back. “Ew. Why the fuck would I do that?”

One shoulder bobs up. “Listen, no matter how quiet we try to keep this, someone is gonna find out. And I’d much rather they think we’re a happily married couple than figure out what really happened. Because if they do…it won’t be pretty.”

“Oh, yeah? And why is that?”

Now, his expression softens. “They…look, people aren’t always…nice. No matter what I do or how many fucking times I ask people to fuck off…they talk.”

Confused, your brows pull together. “Okay?”

Sensing you don’t quite understand, he continues. “They’ll say shit. About you. Dig into your past, make up a bunch of bullshit about who you are and things you’ve said. Try to prove we’re not together.”

“We’re not together,” you can’t help but remind him and his eyes roll.

“Whatever, you get my point.” He pauses, pulling his lip between his teeth. “Look, the whole PR bullshit has followed me my entire career. Can’t leave the house without someone either thinking I’m fucking every girl around me or I’m only dating them for attention.”

Your heart begins to sink, your sympathy going out to him. “Oh.”

“Yeah. And I know we’re not together and I know we don’t like each other, but I just…I don’t wanna give them any more reasons to start shit, you know?” He glances down, deep in thought. “And I married you for a reason, even if I was drunk. Clearly, I knew I liked you enough to wanna spend my life with you.”

Despite the scrunch of your nose, you have to admit he’s got a point. You might hate his taste in music, but even drunk you still thought it was worth it.

That he was worth it.

“All right,” you finally mumble. “Yeah, deal. I can play house. But…if I agree to move in, then I’ve got a couple more rules.”

Pleased, he smiles again. “Of course you do.”

Your arms cross. “I want my own room.”

“Fine.”

“And I’m not calling myself Mrs. Styles.”

“Deal.”

“And I want a ring.” Your grin grows wider. “It doesn’t have to be a real diamond, but it should at least look like a real diamond. And sparkly. And big.”

He’s entertained by this, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he nods his chin at you. “Didn’t picture you as the flashy type.”

“M’not really,” you agree with a nonchalant shrug. “But people have expectations of you. And one of those is a big shiny-ass rock for your darling wife.”

His smug smile is indicative of his agreement. “Fine. Anything else?”

“I’m not sleeping with you again.”

The room grows quiet now. His eyebrow pulls up. “Oh?”

You hold steady, clearing your throat. “Yeah. Earlier was a mistake. I was upset about the meeting and your cologne smelled nice, but I’m over it and I’m not falling for it again.”

For some reason…amusement. “You sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be fucking sure?”

He doesn’t seem convinced. “I don’t know. Honestly? I think you’ll cave within the week.”

You lean forward. “Is that a challenge?”

“It is,” he agrees, getting closer as well. “In fact, I’ll make you a deal. If you don’t cave, I’ll get you a real diamond ring. Biggest one they have. And once we’re divorced, you can sell it and get that car you want.”

Immediately, you’re reminded of the Lamborghini Miura you’ve had your eye on for years. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and suddenly, maybe the stakes of his little game are a lot higher.

“Okay,” you murmur, shifting in your spot. “And if you cave?”

He snorts. “I won’t cave.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that, sweet boy,” you purr, watching the way he swallows. “Face it, darling, you can fight it all you want, but you’re nothing but a pathetic little whore. And if anyone is going to cave…it’ll be you.”

He hums, eyes flicking between yours as if rolling your response over in his mind. “If I cave, then you don’t have to come with me to any events. You’ll be free of your wifely duties.”

It’s tempting, seeing as you hadn’t really adored the idea of cameras flashing in front of your face. And despite yourself, you outstretch your hand. “Deal.”

He eyes you closely as if waiting for one final condition, or perhaps looking for any deceit. When he finds none, he takes your hand, shaking it once.

“All right,” he declares, rather smugly, if you do say so yourself. “Then you better get packing, wifey. We’ve got a lot to do.”

He stands from the couch, striding past you and toward the door to your apartment as you watch him go, your heart hammering in your chest at the challenge you now face.

Because it’s not just about being his wife anymore.

It’s about making him break.

And you’re going to make him break if it’s the last thing you do.

Next Part:

~ Mr. & Mrs. Hey Soul Sister pt. 5*

~ Part 3 here!

~ Other Harry Blurbs

[halos-top-alien-model]

Sangheili Bracket Finals

Special propaganda below:

Thel's mind was still on the textual transmission sent to him when a sudden visitor broke his train of thought. It was one of his staff, letting him know that Admiral Lord Hood was making a sudden call request. Already suspecting what brought that on, he gave his approval. Only a few moments later, he was connected to Lord Hood via small holographic messaging - and couldn't even get a greeting out.

"I sincerely apologize for the overreach in boundaries that intern caused. I swear, the unauthorized decision to send that does not reflect at all what the UNSC stands for, and we greatly respect our alliance with the Sangheili."

Thel raised a hand. "I can perfectly see that, Lord Hood. For what other reason would your people be holding an... 'popularity tournament', if not out of respect?"

The grim line Lord Hood's mouth formed suggested there were other reasons, but Thel chose not to pry. Although, admittedly, it did make him curious on just how somehow could intend disrespect over a popularity contest. Perhaps because the nature of only one winner could be seen as an insult to all the losers? Even if most Sangheili did not particularly care about humans' opinions on themselves - either as a species or as individuals - it was probably safe to keep this secret, just to be safe.

"Civilians can take matters down... interesting routes, on social media," Lord Hood continued. "It was already a trend to run these contests over everything imaginable. When someone got the idea to do this with all the known Sangheili individuals, it was decided to hold off on addressing it. No need to bring further attention to it.

"But no one could've imagined someone trying to actively bring it to your attention."

He was clearly mortified. A bit embarrassed, too. And while Thel would love to throw him a bone and allow him to quickly put it out of mind, there was a thought he just couldn't leave unspoken. It was all that had been on his mind in between receiving the "tip" on the contest and Lord Hood's call.

"I see it as a compliment, that so much of your population can see me - and others of my people - so positively, in spite of how young our alliance is. There is one piece of feedback, though, that you could perhaps forward to... 'social media', on my behalf."

Thel could almost swear the shading of Lord Hood's holographic face got brighter, lighter in color. "I can try and pull some strings. Depending on the message."

Leaning closer on his desk, resting his elbows on the surface and interlocking his hands, Thel began, "I can understand why so many humans would vote for me in the case of a popularity poll. I am the one with the closest relationship to your kind, with the most cases of notable - peaceful - interactions, outside of my Covenant career. I am possibly the only Sangheili much of your kind even recognizes on an individual-level.

"But I must make a case for my opponent, Rtas 'Vadum. His leadership and diplomatic abilities surpass my own. He has a way of connecting with those hostile to him in ways I have yet to replicate - the Prelate that initially sought personal vengeance being one such example. It is the reason I trust him so much with the task of searching for the lost San'Shyuum - he is perhaps the only one capable. Capable in finding them and capable in forging peace. And while I am sure his crew are loyal to the Swords of Sanghelios, if they ever had to choose between myself and their shipmaster, I am also sure what their choice would be. And he has earned that loyalty.

"I also must point out his accomplishments - which hold less awkwardness than my own, particularly in the context of relations with humanity. He is the reason the Flood did not infect my fleet at the first discovered Halo, emerging the sole survivor of a perilous situation. His actions at the second Halo, I truly believe, ensured the strength of the Separatists that went on to aid humanity. It was him that did a lot of the rallying, it was him that claimed the crucial Shadow of Intent, and it was him that held our forces together in my absence. Again, his ability with words were valuable in maintaining morale, during the final hours of the Covenant. And his tactical mind, in emerging victorious when the odds were 3-1 against him.

"In conclusion... I feel the victor in this little contest should be him. Not me."

As Thel had explained his reasoning, Lord Hood had crossed his arms, eyes intently focusing. Maybe not necessarily on the Arbiter. When he finally had the opening to speak again, it seemed that he had become the one who couldn't help but let a pressing thought out.

"Really? Him? You're arguing he is the better leader, military man, diplomat - than you? And humanity should recognize that?" His arms uncrossed and went to his sides. "Do you know that to some, laying even a finger on Earth is more egregious than glassing dozens of colonies - even glassing Reach?"

"That is why I said less awkward." He should have braced for this skepticism, especially from Lord Hood. After all, he and Rtas did have a verbal spat that one time. Perhaps Lord Hood could never forgive Thel, but he certainly could maintain peace around him. There were valid reasons - not related to duty - as to why those two's paths never crossed again. Surely, Rtas would feel a bit of the same - he was not apologetic for Africa's partial glassing back then, he certainly wouldn't hold any regrets now. Not with anything related to the Flood.

"Although..." He sighed. "I can see why having a Sangheili other than you receive positive recognition is diplomatically valuable. If the peace between our species is centered solely on you, then it risks falling apart as soon as you're gone."

"Yes... there is also that angle to this."

"I will forward your argument to my colleagues and leave the choice up to them. They're the ones who deal with civilian matters more, anyway."

A funny thing about jointly occupied territory, is that it sometimes meant alien access to humanity's Waypoint - the interstellar network where the current iterations of social media called home. Such access would mean becoming aware of discussions of aliens online - including a certain popularity contest. And such awareness might warrant, to some, the passing of knowledge via word of mouth or transmissions. Even if no one directly told the Arbiter about the contest, it would have reached his ears eventually.

Just like with the Arbiter, there were those curious as to what Rtas' reaction would be like, and it thus reached him, too.

"Of course the Arbiter would win their approval," he said. "He deserves it. His higher reputation amongst humanity aside, he deserves it. He is the Arbiter, the one who freed our people from the Covenant's lies, the one who resurrected the Swords of Sanghelios, the one who proposed the Concert of Worlds. There is nothing I could do that he could not do better.

"Why is this even a contest? Amongst humans, no less? It was his word that kept me from glassing their entire planet, just to stop a Flood outbreak. It was his word back then that caused many Sangheili to ally with humanity, rather than fight both the Covenant and humans. It is his word now that continues to keep many Sangheili from seeking another war. Because he has proven his wisdom, and he has proven his honor. Those who continue to doubt either are fools that hold our people back. And their leaders cannot even match him."

"Well, hold it right there," Stolt, one of his most prominent subordinates despite being an Unggoy, cut in. "Have you seen the rest of this? The Arbiter is trying to convince these humans to vote for you."

Admittedly, he barely even started. When he saw it was nothing but a meaningless popularity poll human civilians were running, he stopped giving it much thought. Partially, it was due to already being convinced of the outcome - that the Arbiter would reign supreme and he would hardly been given notice. The only reason he wasn't questioning the fact that he was even named in this poll in the first place was due to there not being very many notable Sangheili in the human public eye, as far as he could tell. But he and the Shadow of Intent had played an important role in the end of the war, after the alliance had been forged. It wasn't completely out of the question that he garnered a bit of human attention over that - and not just from ONI spies.

It also wasn't out of the question that the Arbiter would speak of him around humans and make them more aware of his existence... such as now. He skimmed through what had been sent until he reached that part, quickly absorbing it.

Then he shook his head. "He is far too humble. A good chunk of this is mere exaggeration. How he even got the impression I was this grand, I have no idea. I am only doing what he asks of me to the best of my abilities. He deserves no less than that, and that does not make me superior. He would excel at all the same tasks had he the time to do them - it is only I who succeeded, because someone had to in his place.

"Besides, he is forgetting some of his own accomplishments that have nothing to do with humans. When he first became Arbiter, he passed his first mission with flying colors. I honestly did not expect him to even survive, pulling off the stunt he did - selflessly cutting the safety cables of that mining facility to draw out his target, while allowing all my men to retreat to safety. He did that knowing I would not come back for an Arbiter - he did it unaware that anyone would."

"Ah, but that was a mission to kill 'Heretics', right?" Stolt said again. "I'm sure the bitterness of knowing they were right all along and didn't need to be killed is why he would never even think that a merit."

"The target is irrelevant. The sentiment of his actions is what matters." Leaning back into his shipmaster's chair, he continued with a softer voice, "And he is wrong. About his talent for speech. And Infinite Succor... The fact I was the only survivor should say enough regarding my leadership in that moment. And the fact I was able to go back into the field, to command troops again... should say enough regarding his ability to speak to those under him. He has earned more loyal soldiers than I - and not entirely because he meets more people than I."

Clearing his throat, his voice hardened again. "Take the colony of Om'a'Varo, for instance. Those who settled on Rak. I believe it is not just him being humble that he's selling himself short - he takes the cases where his words are not enough to be a failing on his part, and not the failing of the other's mind. There are some who will just not listen. But he has gotten many to do so."

"So what I'm hearing is... we need to send in our own message to the humans to counter his?"

Rtas huffed. "That will not be necessary. Even with his endorsement, the humans will still choose him. I am certain of that. In the time we could draft a pointless transmission, we could be using our time and systems for more important tasks. This conversation, too, holds little worth - the only value being a stronger reiteration of what is already known."

With that, Rtas was finished with the subject. Well, almost, maybe. It crossed his mind to maybe, instead of sending his passionate argument to the humans, sneak a bit of the sentiment in his next report. Not obvious enough to distract from the report's actual content, but subtle enough to let the Arbiter know fully well that Rtas had heard him - and strongly disagreed.

[outisgivingpac]

How you see yourself 🦋 How others see you 💌

This PAC is rather straight-forwards ☺️ If you enjoyed it or find it helpful in any way, feel free to let me know and like/reblog this post. Be mindful that I only read the current energy, and as this is a collective readings, not everthing showed up is applied for everyone. For personal reading, please check out my pinned post. You can also support me through Ko-fi!

My Masterlist

✨Pick a pile/picture you feel most drawn to ✨

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3. Pile 4.

Pile 1: 6 of Wands reversed, The Empress, King of Cups reversed

For those who picked this pile, it seems like you have a quite unfair perception of yourself. You see yourself as what you are not (yet), and define your value based on your flaws. As it goes, you could have a low self-esteem, and think your mere existence could drag other down like a burden or liability. Or, you could also be an over-achiever, who set the bar unrealistically high and won't give yourself the satisfaction unless other people give it to you first. You could also identify as the wallflower or the blacksheep in your community, who could disappear and no one would notice. On the contrary, others seem to see you as someone they could rely on. They can trust you to give them emotional comfort, as well as to give them helping hand in practical matter like, taking care of them when they're blackout drunk haha. Anyhow, they see you as someone with a big heart and has a lot to give without calculation. Hater would say you're too kind, but it's their problem for not being able to handle honest affection. What I can see clearly, there is a gap between the public you and the private you. You tend to try to give to other people all the while your own cup is empty, and that couldn't be healthy in the long run. For the record, this could be due to you associate the quality of being helpful as your worth. Know that your loved one would love to be your confidant to you as you are to them. Also you could use some more of "sorry, I'm not available" and focus your energy to replenish and work on your own projects.

Pile 2: Temperance, 10 of Cups, 3 of Cups

This pile really radiates such a joyful energy 😄 To others, you embodies the bigger than life spirit, or someone who is living their dream. They would look at you and scratch their head for how you're able to pick yourself up after a bad day, seeing the positive side of every situations, and having fun even during the most uneventful period. Your good vibe is really infectious. Meanwhile, you simply see yourself who have a good inner balance. You have your own worries, fear and sadness. But you have your own support system and a strong emotional foundation to work around negativity. The most prominent mindset you possess is the idea of "having enough". You know what enough looks like to you and won't let other's definition affect your view of it. Truth is, you're someone who are just simply pleasant and fun to hang out with. You could be extrovert, saving others from the pain of breaking the ice. By nature, you're curious, open-minded and non-judgemental, you get a lot of your drive from meeting new people and having stimulating conversations. I really have nothing negative to say about this pile, so just an advice: seek out people with whom can have fun and tell silly jokes, but also can talk about serious and heartfelt matters.

Pile 3: Knights of Wands, The Chariot, Five of Swords reversed

As it seems, you see yourself as someone who is passionate, creative and goal-oriented. You know you have many great ideas as well as the courage and motivation to bring it to reality. At the same time, you're aware of your weaknesses, the most prominent one would be sticking to a long term project that you initiated. You tend to burn yourself up fast in the beginning stage, and take a lot of time and effort to regain the drive to continue later on. The people in your life can see your ambition shining through. To them, you're really resilient, focused on your work and could be really stubborn or single-minded on having your way. They feel like you're always working on something big, or heading somewhere they can't follow. I feel a quite sad energy from them, like they want to be there and help you, but they don't know how (as you don't tell them) and just fear they will just disturb you. In reality, you could have experience certain failure or betrayal in the past that changed the way you work completely. Someone could wronged you, or criticized you so harshly. On the other hand, you could be the one who cause the communication break-down among your group of people. Anyhow, this painful experience led you want to never end up in that place again, and every decisions you made, you made it avoid that mess and protect yourself and those you care for. I heard some of you could have developed the lone-wolf/stoic mentality because of it. An advice I could offer is to sometimes get out of your head and see things for the bigger picture a little bit. And that the survival mode will only serve you until a certain point, typically till you get out of the dark tunnel. Beyond that, you gotta let go of it in order to live.

Pile 4: 9 of Swords, 10 of Wands reversed, King of Wands

For people of pile 4, it seems you've been carrying a lot of stress and responsibilities on your shoulders. You're really self-aware of your negative side: you know you overthink a lot, and often be pessimistic/dramatic. On the other hand, you're afraid your appearance would reflect the inner stress and gloominess and would drag the mood of the whole room down. But guess what? You're over-complicating it again. Yes, people can tell that you're in a stressful/sensitive period, but it doesn't affect them as much as you might assume. They just know you have a lot on your plate at the moment and won't bother you with other stuff. So before you classify yourself as a burden, let me tell you no one thinks of you that way, but simply wish you would come out to the other side unharmed so you all can have fun and enjoy life again. Now, let me hype you up. You possess all the best quality to be a good leader: you have a great vision, you're committed, humble, inspirational and courageous. Before you roll your eyes and think you've never been in the leader position, know that you're at the least the master of your own life. You have been working the hardest to become best version of yourself. Whatever the dream or goal you have in mind, know that you have what it take to get yourself there. Don't lose your heart, look at your journey for how far you have come, instead how far you still have to go yet.

Source for the art I use:

1.Sheila Norgate, "Raven with Issues", 2006

2. Aubii, "Daisies in Love", @autumnalwood

3. SiIIIda-Japan

4. Oska . "Cosmic Geometry"

[carefulfears]

Thoughts on the X Files Revelations episode and what it brought to the mulder x scully relationship?

okay i just rewatched this one so y'all are gonna get some exhausted bullet-point rambles from me <3 much love

1/

the first thing that i noticed while rewatching is that when mulder and scully are speaking with "saint owen" in the attic, mulder is standing with them and engaged in the conversation until it turns to scully's personal religion.

when owen points out her cross necklace, mulder turns to face the wall while they discuss it, only barely peeking back for his smartass church joke.

this almost reminds me of the way he tends to freeze and avert from loss (his mother's hospital room in herrenvolk, scully in the ICU in redux ii, emily's coffin, the little girl's body in paper hearts, etc); he often tries to avoid realities that he isn't prepared for, as though he's surprised and bowled over every time.

in this moment here with owen, he's being avoidant and catty, but it similarly appears that scully's faith is something he's taken aback by, even just in evasion.

2/

after owen is killed, scully begins the autopsy, and mulder continues his comedy routine/bible lecture.

when scully says that she believes in miracles, she believes that god's hand can be witnessed, mulder asks, "even if science can't explain them?"

this is really the core conflict of episodes like this, that center around faith or religion. neither of them know how to move forward outside of their roles, and so much of scully's position depends on only adhering to what science can prove. it's what she's told him so many times over the years in response to his own theories, and both of them waver in the loss of that absolutism.

a couple of episodes earlier, in nisei, she told him that believing is the easy part, that she needs proof, and he had responded, "you think believing is easy?"

part of what makes faith-centered cases difficult for them both is that mulder doesn't have it, and believing is easy for scully.

mulder spends his whole life wanting to believe in something that would allow the kind of comfort people find in faith. it isn't easy for him. it's hard to always be seeking.

he needs proof in order to believe too, but scully has her beliefs without the science that she holds him to, without the burden.

later, in gethsemane, she tells him that proving extraterrestrial life is not her dying wish. and he asks, what if you could prove the existence of god? wouldn't you try, like i try?

she says no. that god can't be proven or disproven, and it doesn't matter to her.

in revelations, he shuts down her claims of faith, and doesn't consider her point of view. when he leaves on another bad joke, the pause that she takes before returning to her work is so telling. this isn't how they interact with each other. something is different, with this case, with this topic.

the look on her face and the way she squares her jaw is almost of someone who's ashamed/afraid to speak up, who's biting her tongue. this isn't what she does, with him, either. and it has a different connotation on rewatch, with the things she says later in the series about authority.

3/

in conversation at the motel, things haven't changed. mulder is still a laugh-factory, dismissing any explanation with religious connotations. scully is still watching him and learning from him, as she has been since day one.

when she finally just snaps and asks, "how is it that you're willing to go out on a limb whenever you see a light in the sky, but you're unwilling to accept the possibility of a miracle?"

he responds instantly, "i wait for a miracle every day. but what i've seen here has only tested my patience, not my faith."

he waits for a miracle every day. it wasn't that long ago that we saw him weep in a church.

"well, what about what i've seen?"

what about what she's seen? what about what she believes? what about her experience?

4/

in the end, mulder's being a sweetie, bringing her coat and asking if she's okay. it worries him when she's not being logical. when she's acting like him.

he says it, in all souls, another faith-based role reversal: "i’ve never seen you more vulnerable or susceptible or more easily manipulated and it scares me because i don’t know why."

i hate to see people call him hypocritical for this; they both do it. they adhere to their roles so strictly, and there's something uneasy for them that comes with watching the other stray from what they find solidity in, whether that's belief or rationalism.

this scene captures the intent of the script so well, it is sad. this is a sad episode. she's watching him and learning from him and she knows that she cannot share this experience she's having with him.

5/

in one of the series' most affecting scenes, scully goes to confession for the first time in years. not to confess, but to confide. the language in this scene is so specific and emotional, as she tells the priest that normally she can talk to her friend about things but she cannot talk to him about this.

that's such an isolating place to be in, for your closest person and your most pressing struggle to be so at odds.

she tells the priest that she believes she saw things that helped her to save a life, but she wonders if she even saw them at all, because her partner didn't see them. he didn't believe. and usually he believes in everything.

that's such an isolating place to be in, for your hopeful seeker to turn a blind eye.

this isn't the last time that scully will be in this position, so alone in what she experiences, wondering if it's even real if mulder doesn't see it too.

and this scene sets the tone for so much of her character, as she confesses that she is afraid. that maybe god is speaking, and no one is listening.

i know this one is less thought-out than usual, if there's anything here y'all want to chat more about/go into deeper just shoot me an ask. kisses.

scully in this episode is something i've dabbled around with a bit in my writing before here.

[seraphimcollections]

stars aligned | chapter 5 | Namor x Wakandan!reader

Chapter 5

summary: finally Namor and Thulile can speak face to face with no bars in between

word count: 1.2

warnings: none that i can think of, but please let me know if i missed anything.

author's notes: hiiii everyoneeeee i am so sorry for the late post. my cat passed last week and i've been desperately trying to keep everything together. i ended up dropping my winter class which is probably the only reason i was able to work on this. again, i'm so sorry for the late post!

| ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4 |

______________________________________________________________

Thulile gently moved the thin linen curtain before stepping into the hut. Immediately Thulile could tell the temperature went up a few degrees, bringing her hands up to hold herself. Thulile blinked in shock seeing Namor gently wave his hand to grab her attention. 

“I figured you might have been cold,” Namor said with a small smirk, “my people can withstand the frigid temperatures of the deep, you land-dwellers, ah, not so much.”

Thulile’s eyes caught on the small fire pit at the center of the room. Seeing Namor’s seemingly lax demeanor, Thulile slowly approached it, thanking Bast for its warmth. A shiver ran down her spine, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it. Thulile tensed as Namor came to stand across from her and the fire. Namor held out his hand, a small hand-binded book and pen in his hand. Thulile eyed it skeptically. 

“Again, until I am able to understand your language, this will have to suffice,” Namor said. “And I am sure you have many questions.” 

Thulile took the small book out of his hand, flipping slowly through the pages. Namor kneeled to sit on a carved stool, gesturing for Thulile to do the same. Thulile did so, propping the book on her knee and scribbling her first question of many. 

“This is Talokan?” Thulile held the book up for the king to read. 

Namor leaned forward, his hand on his knee holding him up. 

“Yes, a small part of it,” Namor said, “I’m afraid you would not be able to withstand the crushing weight and freezing waters to see the heart of our kingdom. If I would even permit it.” 

Thulile didn’t waste time as she wrote her next question before holding it up. 

“You attacked the ship, why?” 

“You know the answer to this question, espio,” Namor said, “that ship was in Talokan waters, searching for vibranium which put my people in harm’s way. So, the intruders had to be dealt with, but you, wrong place, wrong time perhaps.”

Thulile’s brow furrowed before ducking her head to write more. Namor took this moment to gaze over the small woman, scrutinize even. He noted how she filled out the dress nicely, the fabric sometimes clinging to her hips. Her dark bronze skin glowed in the flicker of the firelight. Some of her braids fell over her face as she scribbled, her focused expression almost… adorable. Namor snapped out of his thoughts when Thulile raised the book once more.

“Then why keep me here? You could have ‘dealt’ with me like the others, but you didn’t. Why?” 

Namor smirked. Finally, you ask the right question, espio, he thought. 

“That is a loaded question, isn’t it, Wakandan. Because of your king’s decision to reveal the raw power of vibranium, shifting the balance of power. Others have tried, which I know for certain you are well aware of, and will continue to try to shift the balance in their favor. Now, it is up to Wakanda to set things right. It’s only fair.” 

Thulile watched as the flame ignited in the man’s eyes, her eyes falling down to his bare feet, to his wings. Namor followed her lingered gaze, his lips curling into a smirk. 

“It is a mutation,” he started, “long ago, my mother and my ancestors were nearly wiped out by a mysterious illness. The elder discovered a strange flower that grew underwater, not too far from here. He fed this strange herb to my people, they began to…change, evolve. My mother was pregnant with me when she ingested it, and I was born in these waters. Able to breathe underwater and soar through the skies, that is why my people call me Kukulkan, the feathered-serpent god.” 

Thulile blinked in disbelief, before snapping out of her awe and scribbling down more. 

“You and your people, the language you speak, it’s not something I’ve seen before. It’s ancient, Mayan I think…how old are you?” 

This question seemed to cause the man to chuckle, smiling whole-heartedly.

“Is it not rude to ask someone’s age on the surface?” He said. 

Thulile blinked, her cheeks warming much to her dismay. 

“I am centuries old, many moons older than any of you land-dwellers. You are smarter than I thought to say that my people are of Mayan descent,” Namor gave Thulile her due credit. 

“And you never went up there? After all this time, why?” 

To this question the fleeting warm flicker in Namor’s gaze was extinguished. A frown came to his silenced lips. Thulile looked over the man’s pained expression, finding more than just pain, but a fiery anger. 

“When I began to age slower than my mother, she became sick. Many say it was her heart breaking for the home she could not return to,” Namor’s eyes spelled unimaginable hurt, and as much as Thulile wanted to deny how this mere expression pulled at her heartstrings, she could not. 

“So when she did pass, she wished to be buried on the surface, in the soil of her homeland, and I did as she wished, but what I found there,” Namor glared into the flames, “well, what I witnessed was the true face of what you call ‘humanity.’”

Thulile’s brow creased as she tried her best to understand as Namor continued. 

“Colonizers, Spaniards had come to claim what they thought as their own, destroying the people and the land as they went, in the name of a loving God,” Namor spat, shaking his head. “They had desecrated my mother’s home, and so they paid for their sins with blood.” 

Thulile’s eyes went wide as a chill went down her spine. He did all of this as a child? His power was unmatched, rivaling Wakanda’s own protector. Though that title had seemingly gone with the last to carry it. Thulile tensed as Namor’s eyes landed on her’s once more, a twisted but pained smirk on his full lips. 

“A priest among the bloodshed called me ‘el niño sin amor’, a child without love,” Thulile could see the man reliving the memory behind his dark eyes, “and so I have been called this since, Namor. Because I have no love for the outside world.” 

Silence fell between them, Thulile’s heart heavy from the mutant’s words. Thulile let her head fall in thought, her hand moving faster than her mind could contemplate. Gulping, Thulile revealed her writing. 

“It must be so lonely.” 

Namor’s turmoiled expression changed into shock. He had not expected such a question. He looked up into Thulile’s eyes, his breath catching in his throat, seeing her gaze staring deeply into his, reading each and every emotion spiraling in his dark eyes, waiting for his response. Namor felt like he was being washed over in the morning sun under her honey eyes, so innocent, so pure. Thulile tilted her head seeing Namor speechless. 

“That’s ridiculous, I am not lonely, I have my people, my kingdom,” Namor broke eye contact with a nervous smile. 

Thulile quickly scribbled her response, “perhaps, but you have lived centuries. You are a protector of your people, that is a heavy burden that many can’t begin to fully understand. I feel sorry for you.” 

Namor read and re-read over her small handwriting, trying to find the punchline, finding none. He lifted his gaze to look at Thulile as she wrote a single word, before handing the people over to Namor. Thulile held up her hand, her palm facing her and her middle finger bent, gesturing gently up and down. Namor’s gaze fell down the paper in his hands, finding the key. 

“Feel.”

[calamari-ao3updates]

Warning! Long-ass post

SO!

Turtle Hot Pot is coming, don't worry, I've just got other things to get off my chest first.

After losing my drafts I just didn't do a whole lot in regards to that fic, but I'm getting back on it and have another chapter 7 ready to be finished up. Problem is, the drafts that got deleted had all the funnies. Now they've turned into crumbs of angst.

So yeah, very much looking forward to the reactions to that hehe

Anywho, I have a lot of hours on the Sims 4, most of it building houses as a way of literal fanfiction. This house is no different :D

Started building Aprils farmhouse from the 2012 series and that kind of spun out of control. Like, small farmhouse turned giant mansion out of control. 64x64 isn't nearly big enough...

Note: Early build/accidental screenshot of the house. I am in pain. The house is based roughly on and built most like this house but there are definitely some changes made to the final build.

I now have a 2012!FutureAU (like so many others-) and it is just Not Letting Me Go. I can't draw for the life of me so I'm writing a fanfiction to appease the turtle overlords while continuing the build. Which is actually kind of fun to have a visual of the place I'm writing about.

Anyway have Donnie's laboratory!

Completely finished with a small med bay, reinforced room for his wacky inventions and an observations/chemistry lab for all kinds of extra-terrestrial things Mona brings in. Her latest find was a weird-looking plant thing, hence the plants in there.

Some headcannons I gathered for Donnie's laboratory throughout my time being hyperfixated on turtles:

Kirby O'Neil gifted the farmhouse to the boys on one of their birthdays (idk which one, either eighteen or twenty-one) and gave them full permission to tear down the house and rebuild it. Simply because you cannot expect four mutant teenagers to live in a tiny house when their social network reaches into literal SPACE, nor did he want these kids to have families and expect all those people to move into the sewers of all places.

It's a big mansion, and took them three years to build and furnish the house alone. (I'll show snippets once it's furnished :P the backyard is a hot mess right now-). Afterwards they tore down the barn and rebuilt it, however the insides were custom-crafted with specialized materials (because labs).

All materials were procured via either Bishop or Mona.

The finished lab has a couple of different sections to it, as requested by both Donnie and his brothers.

The main area

The main area of his lab is where he does most of his tinkering. Either he's shoulders deep into blueprints or looking through data and whatnot, he's most likely to be found here right away.

Donnie's favourite nook in his lab is under the stairs. Usually the one place to find him late at night, illuminated by the one lantern on the back wall and the one desk lamp on the counter.

Casey decided it was also the perfect place for a fish tank, because it was away from his doohickeys and whatchamacallits. No one's complained and the fish are all thriving to Casey's surprise.

One of Donnie's most proudest trinkets is the portal, albeit secured and looked at regularly by both him and professor Honeycutt. It's known to boot up randomly and definitely isn't involved in bringing a past version of our 2012 boys into the future ;) hint hint

The Reinforced "Ticking Time-Bomb"

Raph loves referring to this place as a "ticking time-bomb", no matter how many times Donnie tries to tell him the walls are made from a special material scientists use for heat-resistant, explosion-resistant and all kinds of-resistant laboratories back on Mona's planet.

If you can't find him anywhere else, try your luck here. He might've bitten himself into a set of blueprints or experiments he absolutely couldn't wait to try.

The Med Bay

Note: ignore the succulent planter squares on the wall, I might change those. Don't like them a whole lot.

The only place he has to force Leo to step foot in. It's mostly used for routine check-ups or have Leo walk on the treadmill (bc his knee is a rice krispy and can crack so loud it makes Mikey think he'll start glowing in the dark).

Chloe made him the sunset painting (bc I headcannon her to be an art major) and Raph crocheted the plushies on the couch in case one of the kids ever have to come here for check-up and they need a buddy ;)

The desk has postcards stuck above them, Mikey being the cause behind it. He thought the space was too boring and "it needed some rizz" when asked why. So he one time asked Karai what he should hang up there and she's been sending them double postcards ever since. One for the kitchen on their fridge that has her message on it and another for Donnie's wall that only says "for the rizz".

Donnie has reportedly not tried taking them off or stopping them.

Also, peep Ricky in the corner. Guess who gave him that name.

The Lounge

Note: the blue line going through the wall on the right side is from a roof. Don't worry about it. It definitely isn't an overhead cover for Raphs chickens.

Where his brothers hang out if they want to hang out with Donnie :D

I don't know if you can tell from the first photos, but Donnie has stuck black and yellow security tape to the flooring leading from the door to the stairs. He decided that if his brothers wanted to hangout with him, they could do so in a designated space, reachable via a path that doesn't put them or his inventions, experimentations and research at risk.

The paintings were once again made by Chloe, waiting to be hung up somewhere. Leo and Raph collaborated on the ceiling planters (Leo brought the plants and Raph crocheted the strings) and Mikey stuck a hell of a lot of flower decals to the walls (and might have snuck in the unhealthy amount of butterflies, which Donnie definitely is pretending not to have known)

The toy bin is to keep the little kiddies busy and there's two pet beds in there in case Chompy decides to grace him with a visit.

The item display is definitely Casey's dumb idea and the sunflower rug definitely didn't come from Shinigami.

Donnie also decided to make the space functional aside from recreational and brought a corkboard up there, he might've asked Slash for help with that one. They needed to stick evidence somewhere, and Leo wasn't allowing it in the house. Raph and Donnie are found regularly up here, trying to crack cases they were given access to.

Mikey and Chloe regularly stick drawings up there, only to have them disappear. They got concerned Donnie was throwing them away until Raph showed them one of Donnie's many filing cabinets on the third floor; their drawings neatly sorted and safely tucked away in the various binders needed to contain them all.

If Donnie started finding more A4 drawings than other sizes pinned to the board, there definitely wasn't a reason for it.

There aren't cockroaches in the game, so let's pretend this spider is one.

Because of course Donnie has his little spyroaches roaming his lab, keeping an eye on things alongside Metalhead. Raph despises them, but has learned to tune them out.

If they hide while he specifically is hanging out at the lab, it's definitely not because Donnie has instructed them to do so.

The Observation/Chemistry Lab

It's mostly used for observation and testing of various subjects brought in by either Mona or Bishop.

He holds both video logs and written logs of his observations. It's also the place where he produces the retro-mutagen in small quantities.

The nozzles on the wall are a safety measure against harmful chemical fumes and are stocked with a generic neutralizer developed in collaboration between him, Mona and experts in the field from her home planet.

The Archive

Donnie's files on past projects, researches and all kinds of tidbits of information. There's a lot.

Anyone browsing and taking out random binders will find them filled with gibberish, words bordering illegible and photos of things that don't seem real.

If you find a shelf filled with binders containing art, you definitely didn't stumble upon his little treasury.

And that's about it!

I have a lot more headcannons but I've been working on Donnies lab in the Sims for two days, the story itself since the weekend. I really needed to share and remembered I had an entire blog dedicated to TMNT and my AO3.

I should really use this more often...

[littletxt]

So I got an idea for a request.

I have really bad night terrors and wanted to request caregiver Taehyun comforting you after you woke up from one being small?

~princess 🐰

💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛

💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛

Wc: 936

Taglist: @pinkheadflowers @sweetiehyuka @woonie-muffin @desatando-me @ethie @djdudjdjkw @chariottie @kiki-woo

Night Light

There’d been no particular reason for them to start back up. It could have been the most suffocating, heavy and humid summer heat. Or, maybe it was the stress of moving away from the security of the place you and Taehyun had called home for so long, along with a new job, new people you weren’t comfortable around and new names you’d have to learn. But more than likely it was the lack of time you’d had to regress, to be vulnerable and safe with your Daddy. It’d been weeks as you packed up your whole life to start over somewhere new. No particular reason for them to come back, but far too many.

Jumping out of his sleep, muscles tense and ready as his eyes searched foggily searched in the sea of black that was your bedroom, only lit by a single yellow, heart-shaped nightlight. Reaching out to find the switch to the bedside lamp at your first sound of distress, Taehyun was prepared to take on the world for you. Whether that meant putting years of boxing experience into practice with a swift bonk to someone’s face or taking the weight of your anxieties head on, he’d do anything for you. With no danger in sight, he relaxed for only a moment until another cry left your lips, poured then pressed thin, and you trembled and fidgeted in your sleep. A thin sheet of cold sweat covered your anguish-twisted features as your hands tightly gripped the sweat-damp fabric of the thin sheets you'd traded out from your usual comforter to cope with the hot summer nights.

Pushing down that deep ache in his heart he turned to you, stroking your reddened cheek and wiping the sweat from your brow.

“Princess….hey. Wake up, baby.”, he gave a gentle squeeze to your clammy, trembling hand before pulling you easily into his arms, rocking you softly against his chest until you woke. Breaking from the deeply rooted claws of your night terror, your breathing became frantic as you grasped, delirious, to anything and everything around you.

“Hey, hey! Daddy’s here… I’ve got you. I’m right her. Open your eyes, pumpkin.”, Taehyun spoke clearly, loosening the tight grip of his arms to allow you to look at him, watery, wide eyes rapidly shifting over the features of his face. The pure terror on your face, he couldn’t imagine, no matter how many times over the years you’d told him, how truly awful it’s hold must be. You’d think he’d have gotten used to it by now, the nightmares being more common on muggy evenings like this one. Though he never could, it did help that he knew exactly what to do to help you through it.

Taking deep breaths until you followed along, he squeezed you tight again, grounding you, bringing you back to him. When your ragged breaths calmed to short hiccups he loosened his hug and stroked your hair in repetitive, slow motions.

“Same one?”, his voice was soft and unfeigned, strained with emotion. No matter how badly he wanted to take your pain, he couldn’t. But that would never stop him from trying. A weak nod was all you could manage as you rolled over into his chest and cried. Not a little, but endlessly tears fell as you tried to hold back your sobs.

“Baby, hey. Sit up.”

Letting him pull you up to look at him, you sniffled with your puffy red cheeks and nose, grumbling a bit, knowing full well what was coming.

“You can cry, Princess. I know it’s scary. It’s so so scary and Daddy wishes he could be there to protect you each and every time. It’s not real, but it really feels like it is, huh?”, Taehyun leaned forward, kiss your forehead, continuing to stroke your hair as you nodded. You’d never needed to say much with him, he knew you better than you knew yourself.

“Daddy will always be here when you wake up. And Princess knows that Daddy would never ever let anything hurt you don’t you, baby?”, he giggled at the way you fought off a smile, finally relaxing for a moment. But only a moment, a distraught expression returning, your brows wrinkling, eyes watering once again.

“‘m sorry…”, your head fell, tears dripping one by one, each a blotted stain on his yellow shorts. Fully sitting up in bed with you he raised your head, holding your chin steady between his fingers. Those big brown eyes demanding your attention, but his soft, loving expression was ever more attentive.

“No, Baby. Never apologize to me for this. You have nothing to be sorry for. This is Daddy's job. and Daddy loves his jobs.”, he kissed your cheek, caring very little about the salt taste of your tears. Each line made you shy away, a blush creeping up on your cheeks., “I don’t want days off or holidays. I wanna spend every second taking care of you, Princess. That’s my job. I love you, pumpkin."

His voice grew softer, more tender as he spoke, caressing your heart in the safety of his love. Rubbing his nose against your cheek, now dry, he pulled you into his arms again for a brief minute. Imagining the sweltering heat was hardest on you, he knew his body heat certainly wouldn’t help. His natural, smiley expression greeted you, calm and tender-hearted.

“Now, let’s go cool you off with a shower, Princess.”

With another dutiful nod, a sniffle and an intertwining of his slender fingers between your own, you let yourself slip into that comfortable vulnerability, safe with your Daddy.

“Good girl.”

🧸End note: I know it took my forever, but here it is. honestly I was so afraid of how this would come out because I wanted it to be perfect for you 🫶 I love youuuu 🥺💛💛 I hope this was okay for my first fic in a while.💕

🧸Masterlist🧸

[spellboundspectre]

under his skin--chapter  two

suguru getō x female!reader; 18+ only, minors do not interact

content: taking a bath together, slightly intoxicated reader, wedding night sex, multiple orgasm, squirting, over-stimulation, praise kink, slightly mean dom suguru, domestic fluff at the end, slight dubcon (just to be safe)

word count: 6.6k

a/n: thank you so much to everyone who read, reblogged or responded to chapter one, it means so much to me! i hope y’all continue to enjoy chapter 2.

previous chapter | masterlist

You never wanted to get married.

 It was too permanent, too volatile and far too terrifying for you. Years of providing for your family had taught you that no matter how much you trusted someone, they could still stab you in the back.

 It’s not like it mattered anyways. On the rare occasions you tried to date, you only made it past three or four dates before you never heard from them again. Baggage has a way of scaring people off.

 So many times you told yourself it was for the best.

 Falling in love was appealing, there was no denying that. But after the way you watched your mother fall apart after your father died, you were afraid of loving someone so deeply.

 When he first died, months would stretch by without her leaving her bed. Seeing a woman who was ordinarily so independent become a shell of her former self terrified you. You weren’t the eldest child, it shouldn’t have been your responsibility, but you were the only one who stepped forward when she needed help. 

 At first she was grateful, overwhelmed with pride that one of her daughters would step forward to take care of him. But as her coping mechanism turned to more and more addictive substances, her gratitude turned into entitlement and your siblings followed suit.

 Often, you told yourself you didn’t mind. You loved your six siblings, you loved your mother. 

 But you were so fucking tired. 

 Raising your siblings was grueling, ungrateful work. Keeping your mother on track with all her various obligations was tedious. Difficult conversations often fell to you. Instead of a loving older sister, your younger siblings saw you as an old crow who loved to say no. 

 It was fine, you reassured yourself. 

 The world always seemed to take from you. Long after you had anything to give, it would take. 

 Take, take, take. 

 So of course something like this would happen. How perfectly ironic that just after your youngest sibling graduated high school, just as you were beginning to entertain the idea of living your life for yourself, something would get in your way. 

 Every time you think you’re seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, it was just another train coming to run you down. 

 It was just perfect timing that your cursed energy ate through the first ring your father gave you. There was another, stashed away for an emergency hidden in the depth of your closet. It was only an afternoon, five hours at the most you cursed energy wasn’t masked. And it was just the amount of time needed for the clan elders to track you down. 

 And then you met Suguru, and for once, someone offered something to you. 

 While his demands gave you pause, what he offered was too valuable to pass up. It wouldn’t bring your father back from the dead. It wouldn’t give you back your childhood; but it would make all your suffering worth it. 

 That was good enough for you. 

 Suguru had equal capacity for clueless and kindness. Previously he mentioned having two young daughters, and judging by the way they clung him through the reception, his daughters loved him very dearly. At least if you had a child with him, they would be well taken care of. 

 That being said, you didn’t think he would want to try for one right away. 

 “So shy,” he whines as he presses another kiss to your neck, ”Do you want to take a bath first? Relax a little?”

Your voice catches in your throat. 

 “I–” you gulp, “Yes, actually. A bath sounds nice.”

 “Good thing I booked us at an onsen. And our suite has its own private bath,” he points to the balcony door. “I’m going to get some sake, and then I’ll join you.”

 A firm suggestion and a subtle hint. He wants you naked by the time he arrives back. With a nod, you make your way outside. 

 Suguru is only the third man who has ever kissed you, as you’ve never had the time or interest to pursue anything more. The experience you do have is extremely limited and your stomach twists and turns with anxiety. 

 At least the view is nice, you think as you begin peeling away the layers of your uchikake. 

 Stones the color of a stormy sky are stacked in one corner of the enclosed yard. Water noisy trickles down them and flows into a koi pond with pale pink lily pads sprinkled on its surface. Paper lanterns on strings hang from four posts in each corner of the yard, and their glow gives the back patio a picturesque feel.

 More stones create a ten foot rock wall surrounds the back patio of your suite, protecting you from any would-be peeping toms. You fold your garments and set them on a stool, it’ll have to do until you can get back home and return them to the box in your mother’s closet. 

 The water is pleasantly warm when you test with the tip of your toe. Even more so when you submerge yourself down to your shoulders. The onsen is far enough from the city that light pollution doesn’t drown out the twinkling of the stars in the sky. In mesmerizing fashion, they illuminate the sky with a glow that rivals that of the moon. They almost look like millions of pin pricks on black paper.

 “Enjoying yourself?”

 He seems to be in no rush as he digs a carton of cigarettes from the sleeve of his haori.

Languidly, he pours himself a drink of sake without offering you any. You make a face without realizing it and Suguru chuckles softly. A menu is presented to you and your husband opens it to the dessert section. 

 “You’ve drunk enough on an empty stomach,” he says as he lights a cigarette, “Eat something if you want to drink more.”

 Your brow arches in confusion. 

 “It’s our wedding night,” Suguru reminds you between drags of nicotine, “I want it to be memorable, and that can’t happen if you’re too drunk.”

 The small gesture of kindness is enough to warm your cheeks. You hide your face behind the menu and hope he doesn’t notice. 

 “The cheesecake looks nice,” you mumble after looking over your options for a few moments. 

 Suguru hums as he plucks the menu from your hand and gives it a once over. In a few strides, he returns to the suite and you can hear him ordering over the trickling of the water. He waits for a few minutes before room service knocks at the door.

 When he returns, you avert your gaze to give him privacy as he disrobes. You don’t look up again until you hear the splashing of water and feel him close to you.

 Suguru tuts as you reach for the spare fork, electing to feed you himself. His eyes are transfixed on your lips as they drag over the length of the fork. 

 “Is it good?” your husband asks.

 You nod as the creamy texture of the cake spreads across your tongue. 

 “Get a strawberry, too.”

 He presses a berry to your mouth. Your lips open brush against his fingers as he places it against your tongue. His tongue darts out to lick the faint trail of your saliva from his finger.

 “Is it good?” he asks as you’re mid-bite.

 Dumbly, you nod as the tart flavor of the berry mixes with the creamy texture of the cake.

 When you finish, he offers you a warm smile a cup of sake. It only takes a small sip to reawaken the rest of the alcohol in your belly, and you’re grateful he made you eat something before drinking more.

 Suguru drinks silently beside you in the relaxing waters for a bit. You don’t mean to, but you can’t help but admire how handsome he is.

 At least your kids won’t be ugly.

Another sip of sake has you feeling bolder, and more aware of the fact that you know next to nothing about your husband.

 “How old are you daughters?” you ask.

 “Thirteen.”

 “They didn’t seem to like me,” you sigh.

 Suguru chokes on his sake.

 “They’re at an age where they don’t like anyone,” he says in a pained voice, “It’s not just you.”

 You take another sip and nod.

 “So what am I supposed to do now?”

 Suguru turns to face you, “What do you mean?”

 “We have to give the appearance of a proper couple, to make sure no one asks questions,” he says, “Unless you’d like for you mother to come prying in our business.”

 It’s your turn to choke on your drink.

 “Yeah, I’ll take that as a no,” he says as your try to clear your throat.

 “No, please God, no,” you beg.

 “Then we’ll have to give a convincing act,” he teases, “You should always call me darling, or dear.”

 “Ok,” you say, too tipsy to really focus on anything he was saying.

 “Kiss me before I leave for work every morning,” he asks in a low voice.

 You slowly nod in the affirmative.

 “Do you understand?” he presses.

 “Yes.”

 “Yes?”

 “Yes, darling,” you reply with a dopey smile.

 After finishing the last bit of your drink, Suguru takes your cup and places on the edge of the bath. He scoots a little closer to you.

 “Can I kiss you?”

The request catches you off guard. In your drunken state, you struggle to reply elegantly.

“I—I uh,” you stutter, “If you want to you.”

“I do,” he insist as he cups your jaw.

Suguru closes the distance between you with unshakeable confidence as your stomach does somersaults inside of you. His lips are soft when they touch your, his kiss is delicate and you sigh against his mouth.

Instinctively, your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer. His arms seeks out your waist. He breaks the kiss and you whine.

“I think it’s time we got out,” he says, staring at you ravenously.

He wastes no time in removing himself from the bath, and with ease, he lifts you by your underarms and places you on the ground beside him. Long legs close the distance much faster than yours, and you have to almost jog to keep up with his pace.

Suguru drapes himself on the futon and pats the spot next to him. You try to conceal your naked form from him as you sit next to him, and he tuts at you again.

“Why are you hiding from me?” your husband whines, “I want a good look at my wife.”

His hand latches behind your neck and pulls you in for another kiss. You melt against him, and Suguru wastes no time taking things further.

His kisses grow more fevered as he travels down the column of your neck. Each one is hotter than the last, his tongue sneaks out a little more to lap at you. You can feel the pressure of his teeth against your flesh, dull sensations until he grows restless and he begins to nip at you. 

 The bite of his teeth isn’t exactly painful, but it’s enough to make you gasp. Suguru immediately pulls you closer, coils his arms around you tighter. Gingerly, the pads of his fingers glide down your stomach until they reach the patch of curls that grow between your legs. 

 He sighs in your ear when he finds how wet you are. Gathering your juices on his fingers, your husband spread it along your labia. Suguru hyper-fixates on every breath you take, each little sigh and flutter of your lashes. Your legs inch wider and wider as he continues to play with your pussy. 

 “Does that feel good?” He whispers in your ear. 

 His warm breath tickles at the shell of your ear and you nod slowly in response. 

 “Huh?” your husband whines, his fingers slowing, “Well if you don’t speak up, I’m going to assume you don’t like it.”

 Suguru teases you in a sing-song voice, and by the time he’s finished speaking, his hands have left you entirely. A whiny sigh leaves you and the curse user laughs. 

 “What do you want me to do?”

 “Touch me,” you urge. 

 Suguru coos at you and strokes your hair.

 “Where?” he asks innocently. 

 You bite your lip in frustration and raise your hips to draw his attention back to them, but still he doesn’t move. 

 “Touch my pussy,” you plead in a hushed whisper, “Please.”

 He seems delighted at your request, long fingers seeking out your cunt the moment the words leave your mouth. 

 “Was that so hard?” He mocks.

 Suguru’s fingers curve along the swell of your pussy lips, pressing gently at first to gauge your reaction. A small gasp leaves you and you maintain eye contact with your husband, a silent plea for him to keep going. 

 Slowly, he works his fingers inside of you. Suguru starts with one, savoring the way your walls cling to his digit and coat it with your slick. When he thinks you’re ready he pushes another finger inside, and another. Your husband stares at the sight of your stretched out hungrily. His cock is twitching against his stomach with need.

 All the while, your cunt is fluttering around him. Your back arches painfully against the futon as your breathing grows more and more ragged. Each minute is better than the last, each touch feels more pleasurable. Suguru plays your cunt with expert precision, knowing just where to touch, where to linger to have you on the verge of orgasm.

 Broken cries and breathy moans are all that pour forth from you.

 His thumb gathers some of your juices before pressing against your clit to rub tight circles and you shatter in seconds.

 “You look so cute when you cum,” Suguru praises.

 How? You think as you wail obscenely. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you have to blink several times to rid your vision of little white stars.

 Hunger getting the best of him, Suguru doesn’t let you ride out the full length of your orgasm. As soon as your breathing is more steady, he slides down your body and latches his mouth to your spasming pussy.

 Suguru laps at your cunt wildly as you writhe beneath him. Already your back feels almost uncomfortably arched, your legs spread as wide as your body will allow so that he can lay between them.

 Your husband's hands hold your thighs open. Each trail of his tongue through your lips sends sparks through your brain. Your clit is still overloaded from your previous orgasm, and even though his tongue hasn’t touched it, you can still feel faint tremors of pleasure. 

 Suguru moans against your sex as he slurps the slick from you, growing louder and louder with every passing moment. Obviously, he’s enjoying himself. So lost in giving you pleasure that he drowns in his own.

 At first you think you’re imagining it, even when pleasuring yourself you could never have two orgasms back to back. By the time the tip of his tongue is prodding at your clit, you’re already halfway to your next climax. 

 Your husband gives you a few teasing licks, letting his tongue hand from his mouth as he does. Suguru only gives you a few seconds to adjust to the sensation before he latches his lips to your cunt and sucks. 

 The back of your head digs into the futon as you let out a high pitched moan. You can feel the corners of Suguru’s lips curl in a smile. 

 Your fingers claw into the sheets as your pulse races between your ears. He’s trying to kill me, you think, he’s trying to give me a heart attack and kill me. 

 Your body squirms and twists under his hold, but for every bit you tremble, the curse user is quick to mold himself to you. He presses himself so closely that for a moment, you forget where he ends and you begin. 

 The coil  in your belly snaps before you even realize how tightly it’s been wound. The haze from your previous orgasm hasn’t yet cleared and yet your husband’s tongue submerges you in ecstasy all over again. 

 Your breath stutters in your chest, lungs failing to remember how to function. Pelvis arching against Suguru’s mouth, you cry out. He lets you ride out your climax on his tongue, the once rapid licks now slowed to a gentle lap. 

 By the time he finally pulls away, you’re a boneless heap. Your chest rises and falls almost steadily, with the occasional shaky breath. All you can do is gaze at him dreamily. 

 “You good?” your husband asks smugly. 

 You mumble in the affirmative and the corners of Suguru’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. 

 His hands roam along your thighs, stroking your heated skin until you relax completely in his grasp. Your husband allows you to catch your breath, waits for the blood to drain from your cheeks. 

 You’re nearly half-asleep when he pats the outside of your thigh. 

 “Ready?” your husband inquires, “You didn’t think we were done yet, did you?”

 Sheepishly, you shake your head.

 Of course not. 

 Suguru is quick to slide his fingers back into your wet heat. The pads of his fingers rub against your sweet spot without mercy. Unsatisfied with the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, he decides to fasten his mouth to your cunt once again and firmly strokes your clit with the flat of his tongue. 

 Panting wildly, your hips buck against his face and Suguru pushes you against the futon with a firm hand to your belly. Not only does the motion keep you still, but it intensifies the sensation of his fingers stretching you open. 

 It’s so much harder to contain your moans this time. Your entire body burns with embarrassment at the thought of the staff listening in as Suguru ravishes you. The idea doesn’t linger though, when Suguru realizes you’re not completely focused on him, he bites at the junction where your thigh meets your hip. 

 “Pay attention to me,” he whines, “It’s my wedding night, too.”

 Once your eyes return to him, so does he return to your cunt. He’s definitely enjoying this, you realize. Perhaps it’s lust, or even pride, either way, the things he’s doing to you feel absolutely divine. An ironic choice of words, considering the severed heads that lie only a few feet from your sweating bodies. 

 You should probably be scared of him, maybe you should even be plotting a way to escape him. Instead, you weave your fingers through his hair and push his head even closer to your cunt. Again, he groans against your flesh, his tongue growing even more rapid in its assault. 

 Your orgasm builds and builds, it blurs your vision with tears, it tells you to grit your teeth until finally it bursts. 

 Suguru stares at your drenched cunt in awe. 

 “I’m sorry,” you sob, “I’m so sorry, that’s never–” you hiccup, “that’s never happened before.”

 Embarrassed, you cover your hands with your face. Your husband scrubs his hand down his chin, gathering the drops of  your orgasm in his palm before licking it clean. 

 “Can you do it again?”

 You peek at him through your fingers. 

 “I don’t know,” you squeak. 

 He palms at his cock to alleviate the way it aches. 

 “You want to find out?” he asks cheekily as he gives his length a few short strokes, “Don’t you think I’ve earned a little fun for myself?”

 He doesn’t wait for you to answer. He’s restrained himself all night, and he can’t wait a second longer.

Suguru manipulates your body into position with ease, his hands rest behind your knees as he pushes them back until you’re nearly bent in half. He keeps you that way with one hand, using the other to stroke his cock before lining it up with your cunt. 

 Violet eyes are transfixed on your pussy, the tip of his tongue peeks out from behind his lips. 

 The butterflies in your stomach are going wild with anticipation that even after how much Suguru has stretched you out, it’ll still hurt when fucks you for the first time. 

 Lucky for you, your husband can see the worry behind your eyes; and while he’d love nothing more than to rut into you like an animal in heat, he’ll force himself to be gentle. 

 Well, gentle enough. 

 His cockhead slaps against the lips of your cunt, making you flinch. He rubs it into your skin, coating the head with a mixture of your juices and the pre-cum that’s been steadily leaking out of the tip of his cock. This continues until Suguru notices you leaning into his motions, moving your hips in time with his cock. 

 “Not quite done yet,” he says in a soothing voice when you cry out at the stretch.

 He waits for you to moan, waits for you to whine for him, waits for you to want it as much as he does. 

 You tilt your hips and catch his cockhead in your folds and it’s all the invitation Suguru needs to start inching his cock inside of you. His thrusts are shallow at first, only penetrating you with his head and pulling right back out. 

 The slow, methodical way he works himself into you has you hungry for more. The leg that he isn’t holding back coils around his waist to pull him closer to you. By the time he’s fully worked his cock inside you, you’re a panting mess, on the verge of your next orgasm. 

 “You’re taking me so well,” purrs your husband.

 Suguru can tell the signs without you saying a word–not that you could, you’re in a fuck-fueled stupor. Your moans rise an octave the closer your bodies get until you’re wailing mess. Cunt gushing around his cock, you soak his pelvis with your juices.

 Proud coos flow from his mouth and dance around your ears, the edges of your mouth curling into a dopey grin. His arms cage around each side of your head as he shifts his weight to better pound your pussy.

 “You’ve got one more left in you,” he growls, “Give it to me.”

 His lips never more than graze yours. Instead, he uses them to coax your mouth into staying open and releasing a steady stream of whimpers and moans. 

 Suguru thumbs your clit harshly as he inches his cock inside of you. Biting his lower lip, he presses more of his weight into his hips, pushing his cock into your velvet walls until at long last, your hips meet. His thumb leaves your clit, only to be replaced by the bone of your pelvis. 

 As he grows closer, his lips brush against yours. The huff of his laugh has air brushing against your face and you taste the faint remnants of sake in the air. 

 “Feels so good,” your husband breathes into your mouth. 

 Suguru drinks up every little noise that spills from your lips. They start off as chaste kisses. His lips never stay on yours for more than a breath. As he works his cock deeper inside you, his lips begin to linger.

 His tongue explores each inch of your mouth. The hands holding your body in place begin to travel up your body until his fingers interlock with yours. He gives a gentle squeeze to make sure you’re still lucid, and you squeeze his hands back in return. 

 Between heated kisses, puffs of his breath fan over your face. Despite the heat of lustful coupling, the amount of skin you have exposed has you feeling cold. Without thinking, you lean into him further in the hopes that more of his warmth will sink into your bones. 

 His cock feels massive inside you. It stretches out your cunt in a way that should be painful, but yields nothing but pleasure. There’s a vein on the underside of his cock. It drags so deliciously against your walls as Suguru ruts into you.

 Never do his hips cease their rhythm. Not yet.

 You can barely breathe with how much his cock stretches you. As he pulls out, you manage to catch a few shallow gulps of air. His fingers could never prepare you for this. Such an addictive type of ecstasy you know he’s ruined you forever.

 The more he pumps his cock into you, the more your cunt pulsates around him. You can’t tell if it’s the end of the last orgasm, or the start of another. All your nerves are overshot, overloaded with lust.

 And it feels so damn good for Suguru. The motion of his hips begins to stutter as his cock pulsates inside you. With each time he drags his cock from you, Suguru winces, as if he’s in pain. 

 Suguru’s almost disappointed when his balls start to rise with his impending orgasm. But then he remembers he booked this room for a week. He’ll have plenty of time to enjoy you.

 As many times as he likes.

 With a final thrust, Suguru empties his cock into your pussy. The way he moans, his jaw slack and eyes squeezed shut makes your heart flutter. His arms tremble as he holds himself above you as he lowers himself gentle as not to crush you.

 “You did so good for me,” he pants into your ear. 

 For a short while, the two of you catch your breath. There’s no strength left in your body when Suguru finally pulls out. The two of you hiss at the loss of contact, but it isn’t for long. 

 Your husband flips you onto your stomach and pushes that cum that leaks from you back into your abused cunt. 

 “Ready for the next round, darling?”

By the time you check out of the inn, you’re walking with a slight limp. The staff are polite enough to avert their eyes, and you’re grateful for the small kindness. 

 Suguru is eerily quiet on the drive back to Tokyo. Not that you handle conversation at this point, anyways. You can’t even glance at his profile without being reminded of the filthy acts you took part in less than twenty four hours ago. 

 Much like the drive there, you spend the drive home in and out of sleep. The lurch of the car shifting into park coupled with the absence of the engine’s rumble rouses you from your nap. Suguru unfastens his seatbelt and is quick to navigate to the passenger side of the vehicle to open the door for you. 

 “Feeling more rested?” He asks cheekily. 

 “I–,” you bite your lip as heat rushes to your face in embarrassment, “Yes, thank you.”

 Your husband cocks his head, waiting for you to finish the sentence properly. 

 “Thank you, darling.”

 A traditional home, you think as you walk closer, somehow it suits him. 

 The shoji doors open to reveal his–now yours too–daughters peeking at the two of you behind the lattice frame. You can tell from their body language that they’re ecstatic to see their face again, but far less sure of how they feel about you. 

 “Nanako, Mimiko, we’re home,” Suguru says as he walks up the driveway with you on his arm. 

 “Welcome home,” they mumble, their eyes never leaving you. 

  The first few weeks in your new home aren't as easy as you hoped it would be.

 You always thought you’d feel an overwhelming sense of relief when you finally escaped your family. Or content, maybe even remorseful.

 But instead you feel nothing.

 As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Suguru was right about you. You were angry. Angry at your family, angry at your clan, but mostly you were angry at yourself for letting it all happen.

 If anything, you feel lost.

 The people responsible for ruining your life are dead, the people who leeched off you for years were far from you. Still, your anger persisted, and with no outlet, all you were left with was confusion.

 After a few weeks, Mimiko and Nanako are no longer convinced you’re an intruder in their home and have moved on from their previous hostility to mostly ignoring you. 

 Small progress is still progress, right?

 Every now and again, they take you up on your offer to drive them to school, but only on mornings when it's raining. It’s probably meaningless, driven by their desire to stay in dry clothes and not any urge to spend more time with you. You take it as the smallest measure of acceptance. 

 There’s little variance in your days, each day begins and ends the same. 

 Like the first night, you prepare dinner as your daughters work on their school assignments in their rooms. Suguru arrives home and you eat in silence as the girls tell their father about their day. Your husband is the only one who speaks to you or asks questions about your day. 

 Once finished, Suguru helps you clear the table and you all retire to your rooms for the evening. Unless of course, it’s a Wednesday night and you and your husband spent an hour–usually two–trying to expand your little family. 

 While the girls are in school, you have the house to yourself. At first, it’s liberating to have so much time to yourself for the first time in years. But after reading every book you’ve been meaning, after watching every show you’ve heard good things about, after cleaning every nook and cranny twice a day, you’re still left with a sinking feeling in your stomach that creeps up to your throat. 

 The acrid taste of loneliness. 

 You’re too old to cry over hurt feelings, so you tuck it away. Push it down until it’s easier to forget.

No matter how much time you spend in this place, no matter how much you try to burrow yourself into this new life, deep down you know this isn’t your home. Suguru seems to be the only one who wants you here and it’s only because of the deal you made. 

 So you cling to him. You cling to the role you have accepted for yourself. Wife and mother. You kiss your husband when he leaves for work, you make bentos for your daughters even if they come home just as full as they were when you daughters left for school. 

 Still, the taste lingers. 

 That’s why you’re caught off guard when Nanako approaches you after school as you’re preparing dinner.  

 “Hi,” she says timidly, her hands shift picking at the edges of her cardigan and crossing over her stomach. 

 “Hi..” you reply, you try to make your voice sound approachable, but it sounds like you’re trying to calm a wild animal. 

 “Are you busy? Tomorrow?” She stumbles over her words. 

 You let out a small laugh, you’re never busy and she knows this. 

 “I think I can find some time for you. What’s up?”

 Nanako’s features contort to display a range of several emotions from relief to panic. Her brows raise then fall, her mouth twists into a tiny shape as she realizes she has to explain the situation to you. 

 “Ok, so it’s going to sound a lot worse than it actually is. And I just want to preface this by all by saying, I don’t think I didn’t anything wrong and this girl–this–”

 You set down the vegetables you’ve been preparing and give her your full attention. She freezes immediately. 

 “I–,” her breath catches in her chest as she tries to speak again, “It’s just–”

 “Nanako, what happened?” You ask calmly. 

 Nanako takes a deep breath before launching off like a bullet train. 

 “This annoying girl in my class is always starting the worst rumors about me and Mimiko and telling people about how awful I am and now she’s lied and said I’m this horrible bully and I’ve never done that, I’ve wanted to, but I don’t. And now she’s got the whole school thinking I hit her, when I didn’t, and my homeroom teacher freaked out and told the principal. But not a single one of them will even listen to me when I try to tell my side of the story.”

 Each word comes out faster the last until they all blend together in a flurry of hysterics. 

 “Ok Nanako,” you raise your palms to her to try to calm her down, “Let me think for a second.”

 “Ichinose made fun of us, Nanako said something back, Ichinose hit her, and Nanako made it a quick fight,” Mimiko says as she walks past the both of you to get a drink from the refrigerator. 

 “Thank you,” you say under your breath. “So you need a parent to come speak with the principal and the teacher and the parents?”

 Nanako nods, avoiding eye contact with you. 

 “Ok, what time?”

 ~*~*~*~

 Years of speaking to teachers on behalf of your siblings has you feeling cool-headed as you make your way into the school. Nanako, unfortunately, isn’t feeling nearly as calm when you find her waiting in the hall outside the principal’s office. Sweat has formed on her brow, her legs and arms are crossed, wrapping around her body. Anxiously, she chews her bottom lip and stares at her knees in hopes that no one will see her or speak to her. 

 Across from her are two women whom you assume to be Ichinose and her mother. As you get closer, they both throw you a sour look. You force a clipped smile in response and take a seat next to your daughter. 

 “Hi,” she groans.

 “Hi,” you reply. 

 It’s quiet for a bit, nothing but the hushed tones of her classmate talking to her mother and far-off droning of a teacher giving a lesson. 

 “Thank you,” Nanako says, breaking the silence. She uncrosses her arms to pick at a string coming loose from her cardigan. “For coming here. I would have asked Papa but….”

 She trails off without finishing the thought, not that she needed to; you both know how intense his reactions can be. 

 “Don’t worry about it,” you assure her, “I’m kind of glad you asked.”

 “What? Why?” Nanako’s brows knit in confusion. 

 “It’s nice,” you shrug, “Makes me feel included.

 Nanako blinks before realization sweeps over her features. Her body weight thuds against your shoulder and she rests her head against you. 

 “It’s hard adjusting to a new home,” she mumbles. 

 A huff of a laugh slips out and you bite your lip to muffle it. 

 “Yeah,” you sigh, “But yelling at some prick parent and their prick kid? I don’t need to adjust to that, it’s very much in my wheelhouse.” 

 Another five minutes go by and the four of you are called in. Nanako’s classmate and her mother say nothing to you as they pass by, and you’re polite enough to ignore the comments you hear them exchange.

 As you walk into the cramped office, Nanako is at risk of suspension, possibly expulsion. By the time you walk out, Nanako’s teacher and principal have assured you her classmate’s teasing will be dealt with appropriately in the future, and Ichinose will be taking an “absence” from classes. 

“Holy shit,” Nanako breathes as the two of you leave campus. “You—I.. Are you a witch or something? You knew everything to say to get them to back off. It’s like you were inside their heads.”

“Like I said,” you toss your arm over her shoulders as you walk to the car, “I’ve got plenty of experience. I have three younger siblings who have gotten into much worse trouble than you and I got them out of it, every time.”

Nanako pauses for a bit.

“You didn’t have to do any of that though. You’ve only known me for a month, and I,” she sighs, “I haven’t exactly been welcoming to you.”

Shrugging, you fish the car keys from your purse.

“It’s fine,” you say.

“No, I’ve been an asshole,” Nanako says sadly.

You glance up at her from your bag and see she’s on the verge of tears.

“Oh sweetheart, no, no,” you say soothingly as you rush to wrap your arms around her. “I’m a stranger in your house, it’s ok if you take some time to warm up to me.”

Sniffling, she nods against your bosom.

“We’re family now, right?” You ask, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Again, Nanako nods and squeezes you before letting go.

“What do you want for dinner?” you ask, unlatching the door handle.

Nanako uses her sleeve to wipe away the tears and snot that have settled on her cheeks before responding.

“Can we get take out?” she says meekly.

The energy of the house changes dramatically. Instead of the hushed sounds of dishes clattering, Suguru returns to a home filled with the sounds of laughter and chattering voices. You’re regaling the girls with a story about the time your brother thought it would be a good idea to fight his teacher.

Seamlessly, Suguru slips into the chair next to you and rests his hand on your thigh for the duration of the meal. You can feel the warmth of his hand through your thick, winter tights. The heat radiates from his palm and flows into your skin.

You manage to feign a cough to hide the giddy laugh that bubbles up. A sip of water to clear your throat, a bite of fried chicken to chase. Suddenly, that taste at the back of your throat is less potent.

Nanako and Mimiko insist on helping you with the dishes.

“Will you make me lunch tomorrow, please?” Nanako asks from the hallway, “And thank you for today.”

“Yeah,” you say in a clipped voice. “I can do that.”

“Okay, thank you,” Nanako says heading upstairs, “Goodnight.”

You mumble out a goodnight in return before throwing your hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs that spill forth.

When was the last time someone told you thank you?

As you lay in bed, you replay the moment over and over again in your head. Just as your eyelids are becoming too heavy to keep open, a knock sounds against your door.

“Are you still awake?” asks your husband in a low voice.

You shoot straight up and grab the nearest article of clothing to cover yourself, “Yes!”

“Just a minute,” you call out.

The sight of him nearly makes you gasp. Hair undone and still damp from his bath. Judging from the way his cheeks are tinged red, you wonder if he sat in the hot water too long. The dim light of your lamp illuminates his features in the most dramatic fashion; emphasizing his long lashes and plump lips.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” the edge of his lip turns up in a smile.

He seems to tower over you even more in the low light. One of his thick arms is braced against your door frame, the other rests against your sliding door. Despite having your whole room to your back, you feel caged in by him.

“Oh, for dinner? It was actually Nanako—”

“No, for what you did for her,” he corrects.

Blood rushes to your face and you avert you gaze demurely.

“You don’t uh,” you coyly chuckle, “you don’t have to thank me.”

“But I want to,” he insists, “May I come in?”

You cast a glance over your shoulder at the mess of your room.

“Um, it’s a little—” you groan, ”Cluttered at the moment. I haven’t finished unpacking.

“I don’t mind,” Suguru says warmly.

“And..”

“And?” he repeats.

“It’s not our usual night,” you say, “darling.”

He smiles at the pet name.

“Does that matter to you?” he teases, “If you don’t want my company, you can just say so.”

“No,” you implore eagerly, “I wouldn’t mind at all.”