#write yer own if you want something specific

[anamelessfool]

Comments suggesting I end my fic with love, happiness, understanding and a full sense of self for the characters only double down on my efforts to make Reader an absolute doomed mess in this narrative, let's fucking goooo

[writersdrug]

Thinking about Simon with a goth! gf, and introducing his team to you.

Warnings: cursing, very slight nsfw, pda

Typed this up on my lunch break, not thoroughly proofread, ending is meh but it's been rotting in my brain so I had to push it out. Feel free to send me asks about this headcannon, I'd love to write more about it! <3

Simon insists on dragging his team to the nearest pub after a particularly rough day, offering to buy then a round of whiskey. They are all reluctant at first, complaining about aching backs and heads, and Price saying that the missus was expecting him.

Then Simon mumbles something about how his girl would've loved to meet them.

"Yer wha' now?"

"My girl."

Suddenly, Gaz's headache is gone. "Must've just been dehydrated, I suppose." Soap's back feels much better, after being able to sit in the car for just- five minutes, now. And Price? Apparently, the missus was at a dinner raffle for her charity- thing, and he'd just now remembered.

So, drinks and a quick bite at the pub you worked at. It was settled.

Simon leads them in shortly after parking the truck. The other three quickly scan the room for anyone who stands out. As Simon brings them to a booth in the back, they all take a seat, heads on a swivel for some pretty thing to come bouncing over and latch herself onto him.

"Gonna hit the head." Simon says. "I'll put our drinks in- she'll bring 'em over, she'll be done with 'er shift soon."

As he leaves, Soap, Gaz, and Price all sit there in a few moments of observatory silence. It's much harder to sample the crowd, they realize, since there's apparently no dress code for the servers. Johnny eyes each person like a hawk, until he sees a potential pick.

"Tha' one." He says, nodding towards a busty, long-legged blonde. Price and Gaz follow his line of sight to her as she leans against the bar, playing with her hair and laughing at something her friend says. Her bootcut jeans and frilly top accentuate her curves, and it's obvious that every man in her vicinity is ogling. "Twenty on 'er. Seems like he'd be into swimsuit models, eh?"

Gaz humms, scrunching his nose disapprovingly. "Nah, mate- too simple."

"Feck is simple 'bout 'er?"

"I mean for Simon." Gaz corrects Soap. "Don't think he'd want someone so... ditzy- no offense to her." He adds. "I think he wants a girl who can hold her own, in the physical and the figurative sense. Someone..." he narrows his eyes, searching through the crowd of people. "Like her."

He discretely points to a woman across the bar. She's playing darts with a few people, and hits the bullseye perfectly just as Soap and Price look her way. Her tank top and cargo pants show how defined, yet lean her muscles are. She looks like she could last a few decent minutes in a brawl. "I bet on her."

"Well I'll raise ye forty - I ken LT wants someone more... passive."

"Forty it is, then. I'd love to have you pay my bill tonight."

"If I may..." Price chimes in, leaning against the back of the booth with a smug look, arms folded over his chest, "I'd love to get in on this little game o' yours, and walk away with eighty pounds t'night - because you're both wrong."

Soap smirks. "And how's tha', Cap?"

Price smooths his fingers over his mutton chops. "Well, for starters, I'm a bit ashamed o' you boys. Neither of those girls actually work here, do they? Mm?"

Gaz groans, letting his head drop against the wall behind him. It takes Soap another moment, but then he remembers Simon saying this was where you worked. The whole point of them going to this specific pub was because you'd already be here, on the clock.

"Shite..." he mumbles.

"Alright, sir." Gaz says defeatedly. "Lay it on us."

Price leans his elbows on the table and points his finger straight ahead; Gaz and Soap both follow it to the bar, where a sweet-looking girl is punching orders into a server tablet. She has long, silky, red hair, and a petite frame. She smiles so kindly at every patron who speaks to her, and when she makes their drinks, she is quick with it, still engaging in conversation as she shakes the mixer with a powerful arm. Despite the crowd, she seems to be managing fine on her own.

"Her." Price says, tucking his hand back onto the table. "Y' see that face? The way she talks to 'em all? How she's soft and tough at the same time? Imagine that birdie tucked under his wing, eh?"

Soap and Gaz can imagine it. She's a cute little thing, a social butterfly, it seems - the perfect polar opposite to Simon that just might be the perfect fit.

"And I know he's got a thing for redheads." Price adds.

"Piss off, how d'ye ken tha'?" Soap grumbles.

Price shrugs. "Call it intuition."

Simon comes around the corner, carrying several glasses of neat whiskey. "Sorry-" he says, setting a glass in front of Price, and handing out the others as he sits down on the end of the booth. "She's on 'er way now."

"No worries." Price says, trying to hide his smirk. "Didn't know y' were into redheads, Simon."

Simon pauses, looking down at the table in confusion - then he chuckles. "Yeah, s'pose I am. How did y' know? Did she come by already?"

Price laughs. "No, son. We were just sayin'-"

"Hey baby!"

You turn the corner and lean down, squealing as you throw your arms around Simon's neck and kiss him. The other three look on with shock, and Soap is about ready to throw this random woman off of Simon, until he holds you just as tightly and kisses you back.

Price's smirk falls right onto the table when he realizes that he is just as wrong as the other two.

You're Simon's bird. Simon's raven. Black, styled hair, with black lipstick that is currently smudging Simon's chin. You have a choker - no, several chokers, wrapped around your neck, as well as a tiny corked bottle filled with red liquid that makes Soap and Gaz nervous, dangling from a chain. Long, black-painted fingernails, with small spiderwebs decorating the tips, caressing his face and the back of his neck. Your arms and legs are covered with torn fishnets and small tattoos, and you're wearing a black number with a corset, paired with studded Doc Martin's.

You finally pull away and look at the rest of them. "Sorry- nice to finally meet the lot of you." You say, shaking each one of their hands. Your eyes are striking, with full, dark lashes, eyeliner, and red contacts. Gages and a bull ring, too. Soap feels a shiver run up his spine when he looks at you head on, and Gaz hasn't picked his jaw up off the floor since you came around.

"Erm-" Price clears his throat, "pardon us- call me John. This is Kyle, and Johnny." He gestures to the other two, still watching you with a mix of curiosity and awe.

"I've heard so much about you. It's good to put names to the face." You say with a smile, shaking the other two's hands. Gaz manages to smile a bit, but Soap has the same shocked expression plastered onto his face.

Simon has a love-drunk, black-smudged smile on his lips as you sit down in his lap. "She's been wantin' t' meet you all for a while, now. Sorry I kept 'er a secret."

"To be fair, I'm usually hard to find." You say, grabbing a napkin and wiping the lipstick off Simon's face. "I'm either here, at class, or roaming around and people-watching... at night, of course. People are more interesting when it's dark out." You traced a fingernail along his jugular as he stared up at you.

"John 'ere knew you were a redhead."

"How?! Oh my god- are my roots showing?"

"Nah, luvie, he's just observant. 'S our job." Simon places a kiss to your forehead. You smiled, leaning into the kiss.

"Oh, kitchen's about to close. You wanna split a burger, Si?"

"Sure, get what you like."

"'S no onions ok?"

"Fine w' me - chips?"

"You know it." You giggle, making a show of squishing his cheek and biting it. You turn to the rest of his team with a smile. "You boys hungry?"

Price is the first one to speak, taking a heavy breath in, causing Soap and Gaz to finally snap out of their trance. "Erm- whatever you get, we'll do the same. On us tonight."

"Oooh, you sure?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. Simon looked at Price curiously.

"You positive, cap?"

Price nodded. "Lost a bet."

Simon looks even more concerned. You pat his shoulder and stand up. "I'll go punch it in, be right back." You give him a peck on the cheek, and begin to walk away - Simon's attention returns to you as he hooks a finger in the chain choker around your neck and tugs you back.

Soap, Gaz, and Price all watch, stupefied, as you land back in Simon's lap with a giggle. He grabs your chin between his thick fingers and kisses you on the lips, shamelessly letting his tongue slide past your teeth and squeezing your thigh. You laugh into the kiss, letting him devour you for a moment, before tapping his cheek and breaking away.

"I got fifteen minutes to put everyone's order in, Si."

"That's plenty of time, dove."

"Yeah, but then kitchen will get mad for doing it last minute, and I don't want-"

He chuckles, gently shoving out off of his lap and smacking your rump through your skirt. "You're fine, go on."

You smile, then disappear behind the booth, boots thudding against the hardwood floors.

Simon looks back at the three of them - Soap is staring between you and him, a blush covering his face. Gaz immediately turns to look at the wall, scratching his chin, and Price is gazing into his whiskey, though there's a lingering surprise in his eyes.

"So- what bet?" Simon asks, adjusting his hips; Soap notices his hand reaching down to palm at the fabric over his groin. "I don' remember bettin' nothin'."

"We weren't bettin' on ye pullin' her out ye pockets, LT." Soap comments, trying to avoid Simon's eyes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out forty pounds, slapping it onto the table.

"It makes sense..." Gaz, chimes in. "With your whole skeleton look, she fits you."

Simon slowly smiles, understanding what they had bet on. "Oh... I see. Lemme guess - you thought I's with someone more... simple? Lile that blonde at the bar, is tha' right?"

"Tha's what I said!!" Soap exclaims, dropping his fist to the table. "You got te give me credit fer pointin' t' a swimsuit model first, aye?"

"Oh- because every bloke on earth is shallow enough to care about swimsuit models." Gaz scoffs. "I at least picked someone who didn't look so bloody helpless." He gestures to the girl playing darts with her friends. "You don't even know if the other girl's a model."

"Well, one can imagine..."

"Feel as though I's the closest..." Price mutters under his breath, making the other two glare at him.

"Ye were not."

"Get off your high horse, cap-"

"Well- try this." Simon leans on his forearms with a smug look on his face. "My bird? She's a model, and she's a black-belt in Judo, and-" he looks at Price- "she's a natural redhead."

They all look between Simon and you, as you stand behind the bar and punch their orders in, laughing with the other redhead. Their eyes would drop onto the table if they were any wider.

"You sly dog-" Gas comments with a chuckle.

"I don' believe ye." Soap says, crossing his arms. "Wha' kind o' model?"

"Lingerie."

Price chokes on his whiskey.

"Bullshit." Soap snaps. "Pictures or ye lyin'."

"Nah." Simon sighs, leaning back in his seat and daking a sip of his whiskey. "Not the ones I have, at least. But pick up the last "Bloodletting" magazine, and she's there."

They all sit there, a bit dumbfounded, watching you walk back to the booth. How on earth did someone like Simon land someone like you?

Simon's full of surprises, even in his personal life.

[whateveriwant]

Hey! I love your writing so much, and I was wondering if you could do 141 HCs with an albino GN!reader? Or a reader with tics but not tourettes? Either or!! Have a lovely day!

I'm sorry it took me a little while to get to this, anon! I went with the second option!

Ghost

Can you say 'twinsies'? Because Ghost definitely can 👯‍♀️

I can totally see Ghost having tics of his own – motor ones specifically, mostly confined to his face, but you wouldn't know it because they're always hidden by his masks

Thus, when he first notices you ticking, he immediately clocks it for what it is and he (almost giddily) thinks to himself 'Finally! Someone who gets me'

Because of this, he quickly becomes your second shadow, following you around everywhere like a little big puppy

Naturally, he'll get incredibly protective over you, especially when it comes to people who stare or make comments under their breath or even outright approach you and ask something rude regarding your tics

If he catches anyone doing anything of the sort, then he goes into scary dog mode real quick: arms crossed over his chest, head cocked to the side, an intimidating silence as he glares with a gaze so menacing it could melt steel

Price

With a man as sharp and attentive as Price, much like Ghost, he takes instant notice of your tics

And as protective as Price is, he'd probably get fairly concerned about you to the point where he even pulls you aside one day to have a little chat

He knows that… tics, he thinks they're called, aren't necessarily indicative of anything health-wise, but he just wants to make sure that you're okay; that there isn't anything he can do for you

Even after assuring him that you're perfectly fine and healthy and good, that doesn't stop him from looking out for you like you're his own flesh and blood

Similar to Ghost, if he sees anyone staring or making snide comments about you, then he's definitely going to step in and shut that down

However, rather than giving them an I'll tear your spine out through your throat look à la Ghost, he'll mutter something in their ear – the specifics of which you're unsure, but it always has them making a swift, shaky-legged departure

Gaz

While he too notices your tics, Gaz would never ever mention them out of respect for you and your privacy

He would wait for you to be the one to bring it up, should you ever choose to, that is. And if you never do, well, that's a-ok to him. Whatever you're willing to divulge, he'll be there waiting without pressure or judgment

However, if you were to talk to him about it (and thus invite a conversation) then prepare yourself for a barrage of questions

He doesn't ask them meaning to be offensive or intrusive or whatever; he's simply curious. He just wants to get to know you well, and that means knowing what makes you uniquely you

Unlike the other 141 men, if he notices someone bothering you about your tics, he's not going to directly (more like aggressively) confront them over it

Instead he'd harmlessly distract them, drawing their attention onto himself until they've completely forgotten all about their interest in bugging you

Soap

This man, bless his heart, would be totally, astoundingly oblivious of your tics even if they punched him in the face

In fact, the closer you become with him, the more he finds himself unconsciously start to mimic them

Kind of like when you like someone and so you start mirroring their movements/patterns of speech? Yeah, it's like that but with your tics

Of course, if you were to say something about it (and especially if you said it made you uncomfortable), he'd immediately apologize, explain how he wasn't even aware he was doing it, and make sure he never does it again

Like with Ghost and Price, if Soap noticed someone being rude towards you, he'd go into guard dog mode, but he is the most feral by far

He'd be all up in their face, furious, practically foaming at the mouth as he yells to "Mind yer own fuckin' business while you've still got workin' legs to mind with!" … only to turn to you afterwards all sunshine and rainbows like he didn't just tear that person a new one 😇

[trashlama]

Heeeeeyyyyy.... guess who's ADHD can't let them write for shit?~ This bitch✨~

I suuuuuucck guys I know! I did a poll and everything just so I would have to write some of these! I just couldn't help but get side tracked.... My brain is in the LMK and Spiderverse fandoms!!! Though I will say I basically got this Rise Donnie x Big Mama Assistant req almost done. Almost I say. We'll see if I post it in the next two days and not something else random instead.... I suck lol

Anyways— here's my 3am thoughts from the other night that I'm finish up tonight ironically at 3am again. Soooo bare with me these are basically a bunch of summaries/plots/not fully flushed out possible one shot ideas I might do. Probably could've re-read it a couple more times buuuuttt it's about to be 4 now so....

I hope you guys enjoy!

Sorry this is long↓ I don't own these memes. I've never claimed to do so. I just come across them on Pinterest when I'm on break at work and think they're funny so I like to share them. If I mistakenly put one on here that I shouldn't have please let me know! I like to respect people's wishes. And if you could add the creator names too that would be great so the same mistake isn't made twice. Sorry for the inconvenience that my sharing may cause. I hope you have a good day.

+++++++++++++++++++

Sooooo I was going through the Across the Spiderverse tag(specifically Miguel O'Hara) because you know he's hot. Priorities— Anyways— I kinda had an idea. Brahhzz what if I just took the whole Miguel kidnapping his dead wife/lover's alternate dimensional copy deal that everyone has been throwing around and introduced a new take on this tale?

We all know that the Spiderverse is very open to a wide selection of possibilities and versions of Spiderman and we're all aware that the same thing applies to other characters as well. Soooo who said that Y/n has to be a civilian/or a version of Spiderman for this idea to work?

My fellow peeps I introduce to you Earth 2099 Miguel O'Hara x  Villain/Alchemax worker/Morally Grey scientist Reader!

I can kinda see this playing out in a few ways.

1.)Villain reader investigating the strange phenomenon that occurred a couple months before hacking the multi verse and stirring up trouble. Miguel intervenes and takes what he wants.

For the last year since the bizarre phenomenon in downtown Brooklyn you've been stirring up more trouble than you typical due to collecting the materials needed for your "experiments" to figure out what that phenomenon really was and what the hell was Alchemax —your ex-employers— were up to with your research. With some finessing of the illegal kind you figure out what the corporation was up to. Before being fired you had discovered the existence of the multiverse however before you could investigate any further you were let go. Now that you have your research back you're able to Doc Octo this shit and break into the multiverse. If you could pull this off nothing was stopping ya' from fulfilling yer goal and maybe scoring some fame while you were at it. After some convoluted ass science mumbojumbo. You manage to Doc Octo this shit and break into the dimensional web that held the spider verse. Inside the alternate universe you immediately start messing up shit straight off the back as soon as you fly through the colorful portal. Miguel is quick to pick up on this anomaly and sends some Spiders out to handle the issue. Long story short— they fail. Forcing Miguel's hand to go and correct the anomaly himself. Only to find that it was you. Her. His dead wife/or dead lover. The only problem is that you're obviously not a good guy. Miguel being Miguel will try to rationalize it to himself as he demolishes your equipment/suit that you're not his Y/n, you're a villain, he can't keep you without risking a whole universe just for his selfish desires. However as he stood over your defeated helpless form. He decided. If one anomaly can exist and not destroy existence why can't another? There were ways around this. There had to be. Holding you in his grasp again the hero wasn't sure if he could let you go once again....

2.) You're an inventor/scientist that works at Alchemax/or your another rogue scientist . Either way you're looking to get into the Spider verse. Since the phenomenon from a couple months ago you've been intrigued by the strange occurrence. The news labeled it a "strange weather occurrence" however you knew that wasn't the case. If you're working at Alchemax you've known about the phenomenon since the beginning. If you're an inventor/scientist (with some grey morals) you found out after some research and trespassing. Either way your tinkering pays off thanks to the help of some stolen tech from Alchemax and an interesting glitch from the hacked tech. You eventually have yourself a fully operational universe hopping watch. And where do you end up? Right in the middle of Earth 2099. Miguel is immediately alerted of your presence. An obvious stranger to this Jetson world you find yourself quickly apprehended by a small group of spiders/or Miguel. Either way the red & blue leotard nosferatu as soon as he catches sight of you the dude is all over you. Miguel may be a man who would like to believe he is in control of himself and his rash decisions buuuuttt that's gonna be a nah. Never had the Spiderman ever expected to speak to an alternate version of his dead wife. Especially in person. Every time he's stolen a glance it was from a distance or behind one of his various monitors. He couldn't risk ruining another verse. However somehow regardless of his attempts to keep his desires at bay you've still managed to break past that last thing that was keeping you from him. Now that you're here the thirty year old wasn't sure if he could let you leave him again...

3.) What if instead of breaking into the multi verse. Alchemax employee/Morally Grey scientist Reader! is lured into the multiverse? In your home verse the Miguel who you had married was dead. Struggling with piling debt and depression you choose to bury your problems under research into the weird phenomenon that occurred in downtown Brooklyn a few months before. During this time of trial and error you figure out how to access the multiverse thanks to some misplaced Alchemax files and risky choices. The documents aid in building the device that would aid in your plan to find your ex-husband's alternate universe copy. All the while you were walking right into Miguel's clutches. Cause like you Miguel was having an equally hard time getting over his family's death. Although they are gone the widowed father couldn't help but, search for his loved ones amongst the various worlds that rest at his finger tips. He needed them. He needed you....and you needed him. Although you guys weren't from the same earth you both can replace the pain that was birthed from this tragedy and regain something more. Just be a family.... Hopefully you want to play his game because Miguel couldn't watch from the sidelines any longer.

Alrighty guys that's all for now! Sorry if they're a little all over the place. Regardless I hope you guys liked them and I hope you guys have a good week!

[fallout-friends-react]

Hi! Not really sure how to ask these things lol.

Would you be up for writing a fo4 companions react for a gender non specific (or even simply not mentioned) sole, getting shot in the hand and have to amputate a few fingers? If that’s too gory, I understand! Thank you!

Thank you for reading, farewell, have a good day.

Cait: The adrenaline of a firefight kept Sole from realizing their own injury. When things died down, Cait pointed to their hand. "Lost something, haven't ye?" Sole raised their bloodied hand to their face. One finger gone, and another just barely hanging on. They yelped and scurried about, hoping to find their lost appendage. "Shut yer pie hole. Come 'er." Sole handed over their,, hand. Cait took the dangling digit in her hand, and yanked the thing right off. Sole screamed directly in her face. "Oh please, I did ye a favor."

Curie: There's no one better to be with when you get injured. When Sole's hand was injured they were sure they were going to lose some, if not all fingers. Such is the way of wasteland life. "Oh calm down I've got you. No need to worry at all." Her voice was so confident and reassuring, Sole couldn't help but relax a little. Curie expertly administered first aid, and was even able to reattach some fingers they would have otherwise lost.

Codsworth: Sole and Codsworth found themselves suddenly swarmed by molerats. Jumping this way and that, their teeth audibly chomping as they went. One molerat managed to get hold of Sole's hand. They yelped. Codsworth dealt with the rats at hand, as quickly as he could. He quickly approached Sole, who was on their knees, holding their hand. "Is everything alright sir/mum? Are you perhaps injured?" Sole held up their hand, missing exactly one finger. All three of Codsworth's eyes focused on it. "Oh dear." He said sadly. "Unfortunately I don't have much for that right now. Which would you rather have?" He held up two arms. In one, a flamethrower, presumably to cauterize the wound. In the other, a box of sugarbombs. Sole couldn't help but laugh. "I'll take the sugarbombs thanks."

Danse: After swiftly dispatching a group of super mutants. Danse lowered his guard. It lasted seconds. Sole was screaming his name. Danse's mental alarm ringing in his ears, he quickly ran over to them. "What is it? What's wrong?" Sole held up their hand, which was a few fingers less than normal. Evidently a mutant that had been blindly spraying bullets in their direction, actually hit them. "Oh. It's just that." As he was administering first-aid, Sole yelled, "JUST THAT?! I'VE LOST SOME FINGERS!!!" Danse sighed, "I know plenty of fine brothers that have lost far more than that. You'll be fine soldier."

Deacon: Sole and Deacon were wandering around downtown Boston. Sole's guard was way too far down, considering their surroundings. A shot rang out, followed by a burning sensation in Sole's hand. After taking cover, Sole realized they'd lost a pinkie. After a string of curses, some of which Deacon had never heard, he picked up their lost digit. "Think I could get a good amount of caps for this?" He laughed.

Dogmeat: AAA BARK BARK ARE U OK BARK BARK

Hancock: Sole and Hancock stumbled into some dilapidated old bar. After handling a group of Gunners, they needed a moment to collect themselves. Hancock propped himself on the bar counter and laughed, "well that was fun." He looked back at Sole, who was looking at their hand, dripping blood. "Oooh." His pitch lowered. Sole slowly approached him, and silently showed him their hand. A couple fingers dangled. It was gross. Without saying much, Hancock took out a knife from his back pocket. "Do you want me to do it, or do it yourself?" Sole clenched their jaw, they knew it needed to be done. They plopped their hand on the bar table and closed their eyes. Hancock sighed and readied himself. "Alright then."

MacCready: MacCready is no stranger to wounds, especially those caused by firearms. That's just part of the job when you work for the Gunners. Funny enough it was that same group that caused his current predicament. Sole was panicking. A gunner aimed at the hand that held Sole's weapon, and they hit their mark. MacCready was holding Sole's bloodied hand in his own, trying to figure out a way to help. "Would you PLEASE STOP moving." MacCready thought he said it sternly, but his voice was shaky. He was panicking just as much as Sole. Turns out, in his case, no amount of experience prepares you for emergencies.

Nick: Sole and Nick, minding their own business in the wastes. A peaceful day, it seemed. Until a lone super mutant sicced its mutant hound on them. Nick scuttled behind a tree, and took care of the super mutant. Sole, on the other hand, was slow to the uptake. They didn't realize what was going on until the hound had already taken a chomp out of their non-dominant hand. Thankfully both were eradicated before any more injuries were sustained. "We sure made quick work of that huh?" Nick smiled, until he saw Sole's hand. Looking at where their fingers should have been, all he could say was, "well would you look at that."

Piper: After fending off a gang of raiders, Piper slumped down on the ground next to Sole. "Christ, I don't know how much more of this I can take." She was clearly out of breath. Sole's silence made Piper sit up and check on them. They sat, staring at their hand, blood pooling on the ground between their legs. "Blue, are you-" Sole moved their shaky hand closer to Piper, causing her to lurch away from them. "GET THAT MESS OU T of my FACE." She squealed. Sole begged for help. "Oh god I'm gonna be sick..."

Preston: Some unorganized raiders attempted to attack the well fortified Sanctuary. Sole, Preston, and several other residents dispatched them quickly, but not before Sole got hurt. They called out to Preston, making him quickly spin around to face them. He'd never seen their face go pale like that. One of their fingers was hanging on by a thread, assumed to have been caught by a stray bullet. Preston quickly took up their dripping hand in both of his. "Preston I- what do I-" their voice was shaky. "General." "but I-" "GENERAL." Preston seldom yelled. It caused Sole to focus on him. "It'll be okay. Let's see if we can find someone to help you out here, alright?" His calm voice reassured Sole.

Strong: Strong liked to complain, but he didn't like listening to Sole complain. The fight between them and some rogue robots had long since been over but Sole was still screaming about having a couple fingers lasered off. Luckily for them, it cauterized the wound. "I just can't believe this, it hurts so MU-" Sole was cut off by Strong screaming at them. "STOP TALKING. PUNY HUMAN WEAK. STRONG NEVER LOSE FANGER. BE QUIET." He groaned loudly and stomped off. Sole was stunned........"fanger?" He had misspoke.

X6-88: Sole squealed loudly. Their own bullet ricocheted off a steel barrel and somehow hit them in their own hand. They were shaking, "X6 I- what,.. what do I do! I don't think these fingers are gonna make it. Shit I don't know if I'm gonna make it." X6 didn't respond. He was busy cleaning up what Sole missed. "X6 PLEASE." After finishing the job they left for him, he stood over them. "You'll be fine. The institute doctors can make you new ones." He said flatly.

[dearmailman]

Heya!! Just wanted to say that I am obsessed with yer acc and I love it to bits

Also, if you’re comfortable, do you mind writing a fic with Eddie taking care of a small Frank? Only if you’re ok w it

Hope you have a good weekend either way!!

I'm glad you're enjoying my account, neighbor! Enjoy the softest thing I've made yet!

Eddie slips through the front door tiredly after a long shift to a silent house - not unusual, but not exactly normal. As he hangs up his hat he gazes around confusedly. Frank usually meets him at the door with a kiss and tea, seeing all is well. So, he concludes, all must not be well.

With a nervous smile, he walks through to the kitchen, calling to his husband. "Frank? Hello?" He finds everything downstairs empty. Upstairs his calls still don't get anything, so he enters their bedroom. His panic melts as he sees Frank there on their bed, laying on his face on the pillows.

"Hey, hon. All well?"

Frank silently waves an arm at him, and Eddie suppresses a chuckle. He goes and sits beside him, which gets Frank to roll over stiffly onto his back, frowning so much it makes Eddie smile in amusement.

"You okay, sweet?"

"I'm fine." Frank speaks as stiffly as he lays, glaring at the ceiling. Eddie hums, and leans over him, setting a hand on each side of his head.

"One," he prompts.

"Two," Frank sighs.

"Three."

"Four."

"Five!" Eddie takes a deep breath, and Frank copies him, letting them out in unison. "Is it a 'too loud' day or a 'too quiet' day?"

"Too quiet," Frank groans, setting his own hands over Eddie's. "I keep trying to do things but none of them are enough 'thing', it's all so vapid!"

"Careful, sweet, you'll get your head goin'."

"I'm fine, Eddie. With you here I can find something or other to do."

Eddie's eyes flit around their room with a hum, until his eyes fall to a set of wooden toys on the desk, seemingly tinkered with earlier today. He smiles, and sets his forehead on Frank's own.

"Need a play day, Frank?"

Frank sighs, deflating. "That's definitely something to do, at least."

20 minutes later, the remaining distress in Frank is gone. Eddie and he are making magazine collages on the floor, Frank wearing much less professional clothing in the form of shorts with butterflies along them, and one of Eddie's sleep shirts. The wood toys surround them along with a few plush toys. Eddie peeks at Frank's paper - having told him to make a mood board of how he feels - and smiles to find a combination of specific species of beetles with a word cut from paragraphs of text glued next to each of them.

"What does all that mean, sweet?"

"Beetle and a word that relates to me... and to the beetle."

Eddie points. "The blue one is.... 'disdainful'?"

"Yes," Frank nods, his face scrunching up. "Does Gibbifer californicus not look disdainful?"

"Ain't that one called 'the pleasing beetle'?" Eddie smirks.

"I'm surprised you remember.... Being pleasing all the time is disdainful-"

Eddie cuts him off by rubbing his hair and laughing. "I think you're too small for big fancy words like that."

Frank's face pinches, considering it. "I'm not that small yet..." He meets Eddie's eyes, loving the happiness and peace he sees there. "Maybe being pleasant all the time isn't that disdainful."

"Uh huh," Eddie teases. "Well, the fella needs a new word now! I'll go get y' juice if you can work real hard on that for me?"

"Okay," Frank focuses hard on the pages as Eddie slips out. He stares so hard at the words, most of them stop making sense. He sets his mouth into his palms, propped on his elbows. This 'pleasing beetle' is difficult, wordless, and annoying.

He rubs his eyes hard. He feels so big, with all the worries and troubles, yet so small at the same time. He feels like a crowd of scribbles is filling his brain.

A large, gentle hand pulls him out of his worries, like a bright light clearing away fog. Eddie is smiling at him- he's always smiling at him. And sometimes, like now, he smiles back.

"Made some orange juice!" Eddie holds out a sippy cup with pill bugs and snails patterned on it. Neither of them remember what catalogue they ordered it from, but they're glad they did. It's Frank's favorite cup, actually probably his favorite thing he owns in general. He accepts it happily.

Eddie moves right beside him, sitting down and pulling Frank into his lap. Frank lets himself be held, tiredly resting his head on Eddie's chest. Eddie starts humming the way he often does, discordant and distant. He rocks the two of them softly, just the way Frank likes. If he didn't feel small before, he definitely does now.

He pats Eddie's cheek. "Cartoons, please Ed?"

"My, when did I go back to 'Ed' status, love?" Eddie touches his chest in mock disbelief. Frank pats his face repeatedly and Eddie guffaws under the onslaught. "Okay, okay, I'll get cartoons goin'!"

The two end up on the couch while the T.V. plays, Frank laying against Eddie's chest half asleep. Eddie rubs his back rhythmically, watching his face. Frank's eyes are closed, and for once there's no tenseness in his shoulders or way of holding himself. He just looks at peace, unbothered. Eddie hardly ever gets to see him unbothered, and is about the only one who gets to at all.

"Eddie? Why are you staring?"

"Because I love you∼" he says in the sappiest voice he can muster. Frank snorts out a laugh, that particularly happy one he does that's so ugly it's handsome. "It's true, I do!" He kisses Frank's forehead four times in a row before releasing him. Frank hides his face in his husband's shirt, stifling his embarrassed laughter.

"I love you too, of course I do." Frank yawns and relaxes again, drifting sleepily. Frank takes Eddie's left hand, their rings clicking against each other.

"Wanna play some more, hon? If things are still too quiet, 'n all."

"I think... I think I'm fine right here. I like this show."

"Uh huh, of course, the show," Eddie teases, but he sets his hand back on Frank's back and closes his eyes. They both settle again, clinging to each other sweetly. "I love you, my little baby."

"Love you, Eddie."

Cartoons play on through the hours, even when the pair are sound asleep. Even asleep, their hands stay latched loosely. I will be here for you forever, it seems to whisper where their skin touches.

sfw interaction only

[wishing-stones]

how do you write for the guys? do you have specific ways you write for them or rules?

Yeah actually I have several things I keep in mind while writing them

When I write dialogue for Killer, I bear in mind that he's the quickest to act-- whether this is a reaction to something said, or actually doing something, he's almost always the first one to comment. He's also pushy, casual, and tends to order rather than ask. He speaks in proper case and with modern turns of phrase and slang. He's good with backhanded compliments and if that doesn't cut it, straight-up insults. He's also very sarcastic and throws quips and witticisms around freely.

Dust always speaks in lowercase and occasionally drops 'g's on the ends of words. He's quiet, so he doesn't get as much dialogue as the other do unless he's giving exposition, which he does from time to time. He's scarily observant, and doesn't miss anything. Sometimes he comments on it, sometimes he doesn't. He might even comment on it later.

When doing Axe's dialogue, I tend to make him contract words and not enunciate as clearly. He drops letters or has different words he uses (yer instead of your) to get the kind of gruff, deep rolling voice I have in mind conveyed properly. He's smart, too, but he's good at playing to those who would underestimate him for the head injury. That does affect his speech patterns, too. He'd sound a lot like Dust, otherwise. He also speaks in lowercase.

Cross is probably the one I'll have the hardest time answering this for. He's pretty upstanding and wasn't ever lazy, so he speaks in proper case. He's kind of similar to Killer in that he throws around modern slang and turns of phrase, but not as often. He's fairly reserved in what he says unless he's comfortable with the person he's talking to. He drops letters on occasion, but it's usually if he's not in his usual composure.

Baggs is the smartest person in the room at any given time. He knows it, too. (Or at least, he thinks he is and he's not usually wrong about it.) He speaks with proper case and lots of dictionary words. He doesn't tend to dumb down what he says unless someone asks for it in simpler terms ('English, Doc?') at which point he'll reiterate in easier terms to understand. He alternates between using contractions and not; if he's speaking quickly or around people he's comfortable with, he'll use them a little more readily. If not, he tends to use the extended forms (do not vs don't, cannot vs can't, etc.) OR if he's gotten wrapped up in some lecture or another while he's explaining things. He liberally abuses pet names, too, but the sweeter they are, the more likely it is that he likes the person he's referring to.

Nightmare almost never uses contractions. If he does, they tend to still sound very proper. ('I'll not, I've a(n),' etc.) He will use them if he needs to speak quickly, or if he's under great duress-- instances where he drops the propriety and becomes no-nonsense. He also uses large words, and his speech patterns are very antiquated. He tends to wax on about things before getting to the point of what he's saying, too, so sometimes I have characters call him out on that to make him stop. He picks his words carefully, and almost always says what he means. He also very rarely curses. (Damn is the most common).

And, just for kicks, the others;

Dream, similar to his brother, speaks in a pretty antiquated way, but he isn't afraid of using contractions. He doesn't do it all the time, but he isn't allergic to sounding slightly more casual (which... he's teased Nightmare about in the past). He also swears. He knows the impact of a well-timed F-bomb, and subverts other's expectations of him often. He takes great pride in doing so, actually. He is annoyingly observant and tends to skirt issues and doesn't speak plainly unless whatever the topic is deserves bluntness. He often leaves verbal breadcrumbs, cryptic comments, and noncommittal responses if he wants someone to come to their own conclusion.

Ink is incredibly casual in his speech patterns and use of colloquial phrases and slang. He speaks quickly, and if he's not putting up a front for whoever he's talking to, is annoyingly smart and accurate. He doesn't beat around the bush like Dream does and places value in being upfront. (Unless he's actively lying, which is hard to pick out anyhow because if he is, he just doesn't talk about it). He doesn't tend to think about things before he says them, which leads to trouble sometimes... but it's usually harmless. He doesn't insult unless it's petty. He speaks in proper case.

Blue speaks in uppercase, unless he's in an enclosed area (indoors, usually) where he switches to proper case for his 'indoor voice'. While not yelling, he is naturally loud. He speaks pretty casually, but is careful about what he says. He doesn't like being mean or hurting feelings, but... it doesn't mean he's incapable of it. He is just as sharp as any of the others and, similar to Dream and Axe, plays off of other's expectations of him being nothing more than an excitable recruit in over his head.

Error... is difficult. I hear his voice when I type his dialogue, so I place em-dases wherever I hear it skipping. He tends to skip more if he's under stress, angry, excited, or otherwise feeling a big emotion. I've typed his dialogue in zalgo text in the past, but I feel like using dashes is much better for readability and conveying to readers where I hear the skips. As for how he talks, he's pretty casual, swears often, tends to use shorter words (so he doesn't garble them) and doesn't... really use a lot of slang. He knows it, but he doesn't often use it. He speaks in proper case.

[dotchi18]

I SAW YOUR POST AND I AM HERE™

request for mammon with bluebell please (or ivy if you'd like, it's up to you ^^)

ANYWAYS I ALSO WANTED TO SAY HI

hi~`

Eeeeeeeeeeee! Hi! And Thank you Cup, I appreciate you being here and making a request! ;w; 

Sorry if it took a while, I just saw it in my inbox and it says it was dropped in 78 days ago? I had no idea ;-; 

But I will of course do as you ask!

I decided to go with your Sentient!AU, I hope you like it!  

Yandere!Mammon x Reader

Bluebell (Humility, Gratitude)- “ I’ll be your humble servant, if only you let me.” 

----

Life was a stressful mess as of late. 

Writing plenty of essays to get into college, with a lack of response from the counselor in helping, school still being something to focus on, it was just very stressful overall. 

At least there were other things to focus on, mobile games mostly being the focus as you sink plenty of time into Genshin Impact and Obey Me. 

Lately though any attempts to play Genshin was leading to the screen freezing after a minute or two, so most of the time you invested in Obey Me, and specifically your best boy Mammon. 

It seemed lately like whenever you entered the app, he seemed happy to see you, in his own Tsundere way. 

It was another night after a long day and you simply settled into your bed with a mug of tea and your favorite snack as you opened said app. 

“ Oi! Took ya long enough to come back! What th’ hell are ya doin’ all day?” The demon pouted, dressed up in his causal clothing on the Homescreen with his room as the background. 

Lately it seemed as if where everything else in life sucks, the game decided to bless you with Mammon cards to make you feel better, and you were quickly filling in getting his outfits and any backgrounds and soundtracks related to his cards as one played faintly behind Mammon’s voice, 

“ I guess it doesn’t matter, yer here now.” 

You were unable to stop a smile from coming onto your face as you pecked your finger onto the screen as if in a kiss on his head, giving it a small tap. 

“ Ya know givin’ me more affection wouldn’t kill ya yanno?” Mammon’s sprite blushed as he closed his eyes, shying, making the warm feeling curl more inside you. 

Deciding to humor the one behind the screen, you planted a kiss on your phone. 

Of course, being that it was a phone screen and you were you, the kiss took up most of his body, but you heard his laugh soundbite, pulling away to see his big goofy grin and blush.

“ Ya know fer a human ya sure are cute!” 

Realizing what he said his blush remained but he became more begrudging, wiggling in his place, “ I-I mean... Jeez, Ya really know how ta catch The Great Mammon off guard!” 

He tried to scold, but ended it a little lamely, making you stroke his hair with a finger as you turned your attention to your energy levels, not seeing the demon give a small frown at the change in attention. 

Lately with these new high-powered cards you’re getting you’ve been tearing through the Lessons, deciding it wouldn’t be too hard to tackle this next arc in this one single night. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Pulling everything together on the battle segment, you chose your three most high-powered cards at the time, Mammon, Asmo and Beel. 

Well, your most High-powered cards were all Mammon for the most part, but you wanted to fill in all the spots to make sure you could move along. 

Clicking the ‘Battle!’ button, you heard a Mammon soundbite that you had never heard before, but because you didn’t speak Japanese, you had no idea what he said. 

All you knew he said was ‘You’ and ‘them’, letting you know he was speaking to you probably about the others before the battles started.

The three brothers were dancing, but the only one with a sound bite actively sounding was Mammon as he danced his heart out against a mini boss. 

You set the boys special moves off as fast as you could, and Mammon’s powers set off, zombifying the competition. 

Sighing, you melted against your pillows, pleased for the nearly 100% triggering of the powers that had also been happening recently. 

You kind of wished the zombifying would work on real people, like your counselor. 

You had mentioned it out loud before, considering he was stressing you out with his procrastination and there was no one else around to hear you at the time. 

After all, wouldn’t it be super nice if something happened so you didn’t have to request a new one and the new one might actually get everything done on time? 

Sure it wasn’t a perfect solution, being accepted on the spot by the college itself would be, but when one had to dream of things more plausible one came up with stuff like this. 

Blinking back from your thoughts, you looked to see the ‘Win!’ sign hanging up with a pleased but flippant Mammon saying something before the ‘Surprise Guest!’ popped up. 

Clicking on it, Mammon popped up again, “ Ya know, ya don’t need those guys, right? Only me. I only let ya pick ‘em ‘cause they can’t do anything.” 

It was a weird quote, but you simply rubbed his face, making him blush and dip his head down, something you did two more times to a burst of hearts before he shifted from side to side in your hold. 

“ Ya know ‘m gonna see ya real soon. Don’t pick anyone else, okay? Promise me.” 

He watched you and your indulgent smile before giving a nod.

" 'll take that as a yes then."

The surprise guest ended and you got to the next story section, where you were talking with Satan, having a small laugh over something.

It started getting a little flirty, before it gave you a prompt.

- I'm so glad we're friends.

- Betray Mammon.

' What the Hell is this?' A small shake of the head and you pressed 'I'm so glad we're friends', letting down Satan gently as he expressed assurances of being glad they were friends too.

You exited from Tasks as the Home screen loaded up.

" I shouldn't have to mess around with stuff to let ya know that kissin' somebody else is betrayal, right? Good."

This was getting very weird.

" Oi." He called softly from in the phone, taking your attention, " Ya know, The Great Mammon isn't one people can just push around.

But... I can be at your beck and call if only ya let me."

" What are you saying?" You finally answered out loud, " This is... really weird."

" 's not weird Treasure."

He assured as the phone started glitching, and heating up in your hands.

" 'm headin' out. Just give me a second alright?

And remember, ya promised me ya wouldn't pick anyone else.

Not my brothers.

And not any of them outside.

Wait for me. 'll be there soon."

Your entire phone winked out, screen black.

You nearly jolted as you pressed the buttons, holding them down and tapping on them, only to get no response.

You rolled to your side and plugged in the charger, hoping it would do something as you checked the time on the alarm clock

It was way too late to go out and get it looked at by anyone.

Running a hand through your hair, you decided to work on everything when you woke up tomorrow, slumping down into your bed, yanking the blankets over yourself as you settled in, mind still racing as you fell into a fitful sleep.

Not awake to feel the weight of a new body beside you, a hand being placed over yours with a kiss being planted on your forehead.

" Hey there Treasure."

[two-raccoons-in-a-trench-coat]

Bleach has sucked me in once more.

And since I can't find the very specific found family trope I want to read about, I decided to write it myself.

Where Gin gets turned into a child and Aizen becomes Rosa from that one B99 episode. ------

Out of all the possible outcomes Aizen had calculated when the Hougyoku had suddenly activated, finding Gin sitting in a pool of his now oversized clothes blinking at him in complete confusion had not been one of them.

Nor for Gin to turn to him and look at him without a single flicker of recognition. Aizen would be impressed by the Hougyoku’s considerable power and thoroughness if it hadn’t happened to Gin.

Oh, he knew the boy was planning on killing him (or at least, attempt to), but the fact that Gin hides it so well… well, it’s impressive. Aizen can really only admire him for it—and after all these long years Aizen really has become quite fond of the boy. A part of him has been dreading the day Gin will turn on him because no matter how fond, Aizen will cut him down without any hesitation if he stands in his way.

But now that calculating look on that grinning face is gone. Almost like he doesn’t know him at all.

How far back did the Hougyoku de-age him? Aizen frowns thoughtfully, thankful that his Espada keep well out of the way of this place unless he summons them here. Gin looked spooked enough as it was.

He kneels down with Gin still half a room away and smiles in that soft, comforting way that used soothe Hinamori-kun, and once upon time, Gin (not that the boy would ever admit to needing comfort).

But the Gin before him now only looks at him dubiously. And remains pointedly silent. Smart boy, even as a flicker of anger licks at Aizen’s heart because someone so young shouldn’t have such hollowed, suspicious look on their face when confronted with nothing more than a smile.

The unfairness of it makes something in his chest bristle.

Soon that unfairness will be confronted, Aizen promises himself (promises Gin, who is still watching him carefully).

“Hello little one,” he says softly, “do you know where you are?”

“No.” Gin cocks his head at him. “Should I?”

Aizen can’t help but smile at the borderline belligerent tone—even small, and alone, and lost somewhere so unfamiliar, it seems Gin will always have that bite to him.

Who taught you that? He wonders. Who wounded you so much that even the slightest hint of kindness inspires such suspicion in you? Because he would dearly like to tear that person apart.

“I suppose not,” he replies mildly. “Would you like me to tell you?”

Gin’s whole posture changes, his reiatsu flaring much like a pup trying to bare its milk teeth; it would be amusing if Aizen knew what had caused such a reaction. He frowns, concern creeping like weeds through his ribcage—his reiatsu is bristling with fear.

“I ain’t suckin’ yer cock. Ain’t nuthin’ ya can tell me that I can’t find out on my own,” Gin snarls at him.

And Aizen—Aizen feels like he’s been punched through the chest, disgust coiling hot and then cold in his stomach as he suddenly understood what made someone so young look at the world with such distrust.

And Aizen doubts that Gin has even hit his thirtieth year (if he were human he would be no older than seven)—the fact that he knows what “sucking a cock” even means… just the thought of it turns Aizen’s stomach.

He wills his reiatsu under control and forces his anger away. Now is not the time to lose his temper. Later. When he has space and Gin is safely tucked away he’ll find a few thousand ants to crush, and maybe a mountain or two.

But now Gin doesn’t need his anger, it would only frighten him—he needs kindness that doesn’t come with strings attached, and most importantly he needs patience.

Aizen breathes out, tucking his anger away as he carefully brushes against Gin’s prickly reiatsu with his own. The boy stills. Aizen knows his own reiatsu is sharp, like touching shattered glass—he can soften it of course, make it warm and soft like he did for Hinamori-kun, but Gin needs to trust him and even for as young as he is, Aizen can’t risk him sensing something off about his reiatsu and trying to flee.

That would only lead to disaster.

So Aizen lets Gin feel him out, lets his young, untrained reiatsu poke at him curiously like he’s trying to find his measure. Clever boy. Aizen hides a smirk, no wonder Gin was hailed as a genius—there were fully grown shinigami who couldn’t use their reiatsu like this.

It was truly remarkable to see it one so young.

“May I know your name, little one?” Aizen tries again.

This time his question isn’t met with a towering wall of suspicion, but Gin’s bare shoulders were still hunched defensively. It was a long moment before he answered.

“Gin,” he said quietly, “Ichimaru Gin.”

“Gin. It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Aizen Souske.” He lets his reiatsu tangle more firmly in Gin’s, allowing the boy to truly feel his intentions when he speaks because if Gin believes nothing else, he needs him to believe this. “And you’re safe here, I promise.”

“I…” Gin looks at him, startled, “believe ya. Why do I believe ya?” He asks almost to himself.

Aizen smiles at him fondly. “You can feel my reiatsu, right? Well, reiatsu can’t lie,” it was why he got so good at masking it, “when you can feel someone’s reiatsu—if you’re good at it—you can feel those persons intentions, whether they’re lying for instance.”

“And ya ain’t…lying?” Gin asks, sounding so painfully hopeful it makes something in Aizen’s chest twinge.

What an odd feeling. He pushes it away with a reassuring smile. “I’m not.”

He watches Gin twitch when he feels the truth of his words resonate through his reiatsu. And it is the truth, untainted by pretty, empty words—he will slaughter anyone, even Tousen, if he dares to lay a hand on Gin with the intent to hurt him.

“And ya’ ain’t gonna ask me too—”

“No.” Anger slams through his reiatsu before he can stop it and Gin whimpers beneath the weight of it (a sound that stabs Aizen through his ribs like a hot blade) before he manages to reign himself in.

“No,” he says more gently, “never. No one will ever ask you for,” he can’t even bring himself to say it, “that.”

And anyone who does won’t live long enough to regret it.

He sees Gin swallow hard, a mixture of hope and fear on his face.

He doesn’t move from his kneeling position as he holds out his hand. “Come Gin, you will never know fear or hunger again.” You will never again suffer under the uncaring cruelty of the Soul Society.

Gin doesn’t move for one long moment, but suddenly his reiatsu is tangling with his as Gin gets shakily to his feet, naked as the day as he was born and reaches for him. Aizen has him in his arms in a flash, Gin’s adult haori wrapped around him like a blanket. He cradles Gin tight against his chest and some distant part of him feels something click into place though he has no name for it or the sudden feeling of rightness that flows through him.

[princesscolumbia]

Ānzhuōniichuan - Chapter 1: That Butterfly Died a Long Time Ago

Thankfully, this particular idea is not a megawork waiting to happen, just a novel's worth of ideas and arcs that came to me while I was putting the finishing touches on Double Isekai ch. 9.

Summary:

Thousands of years ago, long before anyone keeping records even knew of the place, Jusenkyo created one of the more exotic pools in its repertoire. This pool would go unnoticed and undiscovered...until an idiot hauls his son through China under the guise of a martial arts training trip.

Notes:

As of the time of posting, all Romanized Chinese is provided via Google Translate, which we all know sucks. If you know enough Chinese to spot and make corrections, please do so in the notes and I'll make the adjustments as I get the chance. Note about pronouns: Kickin' it old-school with this one; When Ranma's (and others with gender-related curses) in male form, male pronouns will be used. Similar for female form and pronouns. There's simply going to be too much going on at various points in this to provide the necessary cues via narrative at all the places to show which body they're in without breaking the flow. (Plus, and this is a teeny spoiler for something that comes up later in this fic, Ranma is gender-fluid and bi for this one) (...I know, I'm writing a Ranma that's not a purely Sapphic transwoman? Me?! Who'd have thought?) Oh, one more thing; this has a single change to the established Ranma 1/2 canon timeline. Yup, just one. Good ol' butterfly effect means that this one change means a LOT of little differences crop up over time, and the change happening thousands of years prior means that there's a LOT of these little oddities. If you're reading and say, "Wait, that didn't happen that way..." it's specifically because of the one alteration cascading through time. ...claiming full credit and ownership of the OC, though. 😎

Preview under the cut:

"Pops, get yer furry ass BACK HERE!" shouted the now cute, short, and girly martial artist. Not cute! Rough and tough and manly, damnit! The ground they were running across was shifting, which made sense. The entire valley was littered with spring pools, it wasn't surprising that the soil would be loose. That said, she and her currently panda father were far too skilled as martial artists to let some loose topsoil hinder them.

Surprise human male to the face...not so much.

Ranma's one real thought as she took a human person's mass to her torso and head was, Hey, he looks familiar! just before he impacted with her. She felt them both slam into the weak soil and the entire surface started to shift. Thinking quickly, she grabbed first a handful of grasses, then a handful of the shirt the other boy was wearing and held on as what turned out to be the embankment of a bluff, not quite a cliff but close to it, that overlooked a section of the Pools of Sorrow. She felt her shoulders nearly yank out of their sockets as gravity hauled the boy down into the valley. Remembering the abject terror she experienced not minutes before as she surfaced from the source of her own life-altering change, she was not going to let that happen to anyone else if she could help it. "Grab on!" she shouted, "Hold on to something!"

The boy (Why does he look so familiar?!) shook his head to clear it and looked around before looking up at her, "It's fine, I'm a martial artist. Just drop me, I'll land in that water down there."

"Nononono!!! You do NOT want to land in that water!" she felt more than heard the grass she was gripping in her other hand starting to tear. She may have a fairly sizeable handful and her grip was trained by no fewer than four obscure martial arts her old man had dragged her to over the years that focused on weirdly specific stuff like that, but grass was grass was grass and this wasn't going to hold up under their combined weights. "Trust me," she practically shouted, "Falling in this water is very bad!" She glanced around herself, trying to find anything that would give her purchase to keep them from taking another dunk. Unfortunately, when the ground beneath them gave way, not only did it break off some of the bluff and take them down with it, the remaining earth, an almost wet clay from what she could tell, was angled away from her. She was basically being held aloft by tearing grasses and her wrist as she held the training ground's next apparent victim over what looked like a fairly out-of-the-way pool. Right over it. As in, even if she managed to swing him somehow, she wouldn't be able to get him far enough out to avoid landing in the water.

"I can swim, it's okay, really! Don't hurt yourself on my account, miss!"

"I'm not a 'miss,' you idiot!" At his baffled expression, she started getting a little frantic and it was coming out in her voice, cracking an octave higher than she liked, "I woke up with a dick and no boobs this morning!"

He seemed to get it, at least enough to react the way she intended him to, eyes going wide. Unfortunately, just as he was raising his hands to grab onto her wrist, his shirt tore. In Ranma's defense, it looked like it was an older shirt that had seen one too many days on the road.

Ranma felt like time was going in slow motion as the boy fell to the water. This particular pool didn't have a shoot of bamboo sticking out of it, so that potential fall hazard was, thankfully, not there. On the other hand, if he was a martial artist like he said he coulda grabbed the pole...not like it matters now... As the splash pattered to the ground and surface of the pool, she realized that this particular pool wasn't as deep as the one she had fallen into...not that it made any difference in the end result. Huh...I guess there's two girl springs...? she thought absently. The freshly minted girl made her way slowly to her feet, water coming up to about her thighs. The torn shirt was substantially more filled out in the chest than it had been previously, and the girl's previously black hair was now a shockingly pretty green color that somehow looked right on her and made the black and yellow bandana on her head stand out in a very cute and attractive way. Well, at least the springs make some real lookers, she thought. "Oh, jeeze!" she hollered down, "I'm so sorry!"

The girl looked up and Ranma could swear her eyes kinda flashed at her, but that was probably a trick of the light.

Just then, the guide managed to run down the path between the springs. "Mister customer...! Oh, another customer! Not need run so much! Was going to..." the man clearly wasn't nearly up to Ranma's fitness level as he stopped and huddled down, hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

As though everything else that happened weren't enough, she heard the sound of the grass tearing further and had just enough time to say, "Oh fu~!!!" before she felt gravity get its revenge and yank her down. She managed, by sheer dint of the training her father had put her through, to reflexively grab onto the one thing between her and the pool, which was the other teen's backpack. She found herself practically wrapping around it like a particularly affectionate vine, not wanting to test what happens when you fall into two pools on the same day.

Which was, apparently, a valid concern. "Aiyah!" gasped the guide, "Mister customer be very careful! If fall into two pools the..."

...which was exactly when the straps on the backpack, sized for the brick of muscle and bone the other girl had been not five minutes before and not the willowy (if well endowed) form the other teen had now, chose that moment to fall off her shoulders and drop Ranma in the fairly shallow water.

As she surfaced (not hard to do, she merely had to sit up...though that task was made a little harder by the surprisingly heavy pack that planted her firmly on the spring's floor), she heard the guide say with a very disheartened voice, "...curses mix..."

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!" came a voice that sounded light and willowy as a hand reached down and hefted the pack from Ranma's body. This freed up her hands so she could rub the water out of her eyes and she looked up and saw the new face of the other teen...and found herself oddly transfixed, even if just for a moment. It wasn't quite like when she saw a pretty girl and her heart skipped a beat, or at least it was different enough from that feeling that she could identify it as different, but it wasn't anything she could remember feeling with anything or anyone else before.

"'S'okay, it aint like I didn't already take a dunk. Guess I'm just now double-girl or something." She took the other new girl's offered hand and together they waded their way to the dry bank.

"Very strange, not sure what spring customers fall in..." the guide's words trailed off as he scratched his head.

Ranma looked back to the pool and then at the guide again, "Aint it just another girl spring or somethin'?"

The guide shook his head, "Customer no understand; only one of any type of spring in all valley." He pointed at the spring right next to the one they had fallen into, "That Spring of Drowned Pig, tragic story of pig who fall into spring and drown over 400 year ago." Both Ranma and the other girl looked at the still water with alarm and very deliberately moved to stand over next to the guide, "No be another Spring of Drowned Pig until this one dry up or get buried and another pig drown in different, fresh spring. Mister Customer," he indicated Ranma, "Already fall in Spring of Drowned Girl, but I not see this spring before," he pointed at the still rippling waters, "Look like bluff fall, uncover spring, I think? Not happen often, but surprised spring not buried when bluff fell."

"Well, whatever," she sighed, "I...need pants. Can you get me back to my pack? And, I dunno, maybe help us find a cure or somethin'? We're both supposed t'be guys."

"Ah, yes! Mister Customer and other customer run away before I could explain; curse only part time. You always be cursed, but get normal body back with hot water." The two girls blinked owlishly at him, so he clarified, "Cold water now turn you into cursed form," he waved up and down at their new bodies, "Hot water turn back into mans. I have kettle at home, will change you back."

They both heaved a sigh of relief, "Well," said the new girl, "It aint a cure, but it's not as bad as it could be."

"Oh, gods!" exclaimed Ranma, "I thought I was stuck like this forever! Lead the way, sir, I need pants!"

(Read the rest at AO3)

[ingravinoveritas]

The fact Michael put hands on David in the office writing scene and proceeded to say he would have 'torn David to shreds in seconds' whilst in feral Sheen mode *yer, I dont think anyone thought of them fighting when he said that*. I mean I know most of staged is scripted/directed by Simon but oh man, my brain stopped working for a bit. Also the Damsel in the tower (David forever the pretty princess) and the big spoon dialogue made me laugh so much.

Hello, Anons! Thank you for writing in to share your favorite bits of Staged with me. I’ve had a few other Anons write in to share their opinion of the show overall, but I wanted to group these together since they’re referencing specific moments in the episodes.

Anon #1: I caught that moment in episode 4, too. Here’s the visual, for those who haven’t seen it yet:

What was so interesting to me is that there were two specific instances in this season where Michael and David very deliberately enter into each other’s physical spaces/touch each other, seemingly without prompting. This was one, and then the scene where David touches Michael’s arm that Anon #3 mentioned is the other:

We could sit here all day and discuss what was scripted vs. what wasn’t, and whether Simon wrote these little moments of contact into the script, but my immediate gut feeling is that he didn’t. It’s one thing to write the words on the page, but Michael and David are the ones who bring those words to life and imbue the situations in the show with their own chemistry and connection. And it seems to be their natural instinct to be in each other’s space and to touch.

I think we sometimes forget how important touch is to human beings. It can be a way of grounding someone, of saying, “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here for you” when a person is having a crisis or a difficult time in general. Depriving someone of touch who needs it can also be tremendously harmful, mentally and emotionally, so I found it very lovely to see Michael and David giving that to each other so freely. (We got a hint of that from the hug at the NTAs last year, but this seemed to be even greater confirmation.)

I also thought it was very interesting that, of everyone in the third season, Michael had the most on screen physical contact with David, and the married vibes between them were played up so strongly. David seemed to be physical in equal measure with Georgia and Michael, but for Michael, those intimate touches only came from David. And the “old married couple” line completely fits with Georgia repeatedly calling Michael David’s “other wife” in real life.

...Which leads me to the moment you mentioned, Anon #2. I was entirely entertained by this scene at the beginning of episode 5, with Michael and David eviscerating each other’s careers, albeit quite playfully. It actually reminded me of a very similar scene in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, where Matt Damon and Ben Affleck do the same thing, re: each other’s careers. (If you haven’t seen it, you can watch that scene here starting at the 2:00 mark.)

The difference is that with Matt and Ben, it noticeably has the feeling of two best friends taking the piss out of each other, but with Michael and David, it very much comes across as that “old married couple” vibe instead. It’s playful teasing underpinned with so much love and affection and something...more than what we see with Ben and Matt, especially with how Michael laughs. Difficult to say whether it was improvised,  but I absolutely believe Michael’s laugh and David being pleased at making Michael laugh were both genuine. 

So many choices were made in this season (the “damsel in the tower” line gets me too, because I swear that is right out of an MS/DT fanfic I once read). The “big spoon” question nearly knocked me out of my seat, too, particularly because a) They answered it; and b) The response wasn’t something like, “Oh, I’d have to ask Georgia about that” but rather Michael and David answering without hesitation, thereby heavily implying that they have, in fact, spooned with each other. Amazing.

I appreciate you all sharing your favorite moments with me, and getting to talk about them definitely made me smile. (Also, Anon #3, if you need a link to watch Staged season 3, please DM me and I can help you out there.) Thanks for writing in! x

[vinjaryou]

💕 Thank you for sharing those writing questions with me, my dude. They're very good. Also, I have a few here for you in return! 1. Share a song that makes you think of [fic title] 5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write? 18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

you're welcome! I have quite a few memes in my drafts that I need to post/answer, eep, lol (and I might have reblogged your latest one too, XD)

a list of fanfic writer asks

1: share a song that makes you think of...

Did you have a specific one in mind you wanted to ask about? For this one though, I'll go with a more recent piece - both Godsmack's Under Your Scars and Seal's Kiss From a Rose both get me thinking about kintsugi. To get a little more specific, the former when Reilena notices the peek of one of Vincent's scars that he's tried to hide, and then when he gives her permission to undo his shirt and bare some of them to her, and the latter is when the piece turns more tender and sweet heat, the quiet end of the song going with Vincent's silent 'thank you' as they fall asleep in each other's arms.

5: what's a fic idea you've had that you will never write?

That is a very good one, because I'll generally jot down any idea I have, it just depends on whether or not it ever GOES anywhere, so I can't really say I'd NEVER write it, lol. I have notes for a werewolf AU - literally just a single scene - and then a random Tekken/FFVII scene that I still kinda want to put to paper just because I really like it (and it hammers in that Vincent Valentine would make more sense in the Tekkenverse than Akuma ever would, yes I am still very salty about him being randomly stuck in the Mishima storyline no I will not get over it, lol).

I have a bad tendency to put fics on indefinite hiatus more than just not write them - I have 3 multichaps that have been abandoned for different reasons, but I still have the notebooks and writing for them if I ever wanted to pick them back up (and I still know how one of them ends, even though I never wrote the actual ending, lol).

That said, I have a couple AUs with a former RP partner that I've put on a permanent backburner because they bring up pretty iffy memories. So I think we'll go with that. I'll never write (more) for those; the notes and scenarios that have been written will just stay in their folder for now.

18: what's one of your favorite lines that you've written in a fic?

'If it is a sin to love another, then may I be forever damned.' Wrote it in an unfinished Ancient Egypt Yuugiou canon/oc fic literal decades ago, and it still sticks with me to this day. Will I ever manage to work it into another fic? Hopefully, because I feel that it could work with Vincent and Reilena, too.

For a couple more recent ones...

“You deserve to live, to love and be loved, Vincent. You have atoned enough.” - Lucrecia Crescent, to sleep, and dream of the sweet

---

“Can’t, or won’t?” Bluntly asked as he held an ashtray out, waiting for Vincent to drop the spent cigarette butt inside. Setting the plastic tray back on a nearby table, Cid leaned against the wall beside his friend, his own cigarette still stuck between his lips. “Maybe I don’t know yer entire life story – you keep that shit locked up tight, and it ain’t my place to ask just now – but what I do know is that we don’t have a lotta time left, and if you don’t do anythin’ now, it’s gonna be one more thing to add to yer list of regrets before our final showdown.” - Cid Highwind, if i had asked you out that night

(taking liberties with that last one, because I just really like how bluntly Cid tells Vincent to go say something dammit, XD)

[theapocalypseisonlythebeginning]

snippet from today's writing session for Bad People or Good People? a Clementine joining Rick's group AU story <3 there's some good angst in this chapter 🥹 (this is just a draft, so some of the sentences are a little rough still, and I still need to add Daryl's specific voice to some of his dialogue <3)

“Punching kids… That what you’d call fatherhood?”

“Nah man I just-“

“You just nothin’. I don’t care if this hurts me. This is for a kid. For the group. It’s worth it. And I ain’t need no thanks.”

“You’ve changed, little brother. And I don’t mean since I left, I mean in the past week or so.” Merle’s voice was not angry, it was not provocative. It was strangely quiet. “But you’re gonna get yourself killed if you keep going this way.”

“I won’t. ‘Cause I’ll have ‘em.”

“Will you?” Merle’s anger flared up again. It wasn’t at Daryl though. “Will you? You think they will keep accepting you? Relying on others ain’t good. You gotta be on your own. Be with blood. With me. It’s always been like this. People will never accept us, man!” Merle sighed. “She’s fucking great, alrigh’?” To say that those words shocked Daryl would be an understatement. “She’s a damn good kid. But you gotta be smart ‘bout this. Second that girl stops wanting yeh as someone to take over after that Lee fellah, yer expandable again.”

“Nah…” Daryl said, trying to shake the words off by shaking his head, and turning away from Merle to keep collecting his stuff. “Ain’t that what always happened, little brother? Yeh got used and then when someone better came along, yeh were nothing?”

There was no answer. The words had clearly gotten through to Daryl. And so Merle victoriously stepped back and let his baby brother pass him by.

Yet, despite having won that argument, Merle felt his victory didn’t last long.

His smirk faded.

“So you her dad now?” Merle called after Daryl, who did not stop walking… but who definitely tensed up at the question. Making Daryl feel worse didn’t make Merle feel better either. Annoyed, he punched the wall and walked off in search of something to get high on…

[starssunsoftheinfinite]

Hi hi!!!!!! :3

I wondered if you had any time to write and I don’t mean to disturb you, but I want to request a story where its Loki x Latino trans male reader?? Also where the reader is a demigod as well?? (Like son of Aphrodite or something if you want to include that as well)

Maybe where it takes place in 2012 and Loki attacks New York and it goes on to where Loki is imprisoned in SHEILD’s airship, and the reader is an agent there who’s tough but cracks sort of under pressure. Like he listens to scene kid music (i.e artists such as Millionaires, Ghost Town, MCR, Falling in Reverse, Flyleaf, Attack Attack!, etc) that he listens to when he’s at work. Also, have the reader with top surgery please. Oh and could you also include some Spanish words that the reader says once in a while? And with the scene kid music, maybe you could add onto that sort of thing lyke where Loki eavesdrops on the songs or sumthing? X3

And when the reader meets Loki, Loki teases him and yknow, does the same with how he did with Natasha, but this time the reader feels a weird connection to Loki and gets out as soon as he can. Time passes on, and it gets to the scene where Loki and Tony converse but instead of Tony, its the reader who talks with him. (Also I’m not sure if you’re comfortable writing smut, and you totes dont have to, but if you can, could you lyke……write one with sub reader in this scene?? And if not, thats totes fine, maybe have Loki keep calling him pet names yknow?)

I think that's all but if you want to add more, lyke yer own inspo n whatnot, feel free!! also srry this was kinda long XD

LOKI x Latino!transman!demi-god!READER

Hi! Sorry, this took so long, I had writer's block for a little while but this really helped get my brain working again. and I do not speak Spanish so while I did include Spanish words and sentences I did have to use google translate so just in case they got horribly butchered There is a key at the bottom of the fic that has what each of those words was supposed to be dfuihgiugt

warnings : Sexual content (Hand job performed on the reader), mention of top surgery scars (they are touched), implied but not stated lack of bottom surgery.

Names used : Y/N, 'darling', 'pet', 'little one' Request specific aspects : Reader is a transman, the reader is Latino, the reader is a Demi-God, reader listens to scene kid music, reader speaks Spanish on occasion

Read over by me and corrected with the help of an app.

2,321 words

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Look at you. Little Demi-God." A voice called, silky and alluring. Everything was dark, you couldn't feel yourself. It was like you were nothing in a pool of nothing, only there to listen to the voice. "Does it bother you? That you are not one or the other? That you are stronger than your human companions yet you cannot even imagine what I, a God, could do?" The voice spat with a laugh that echoed through the nothing. If you were something you'd shiver. For a moment you felt somewhat there, you had a form again if only for a moment. "What I could do to you?" The voice whispered in your ear and it felt as though the only reason you had a body was so it could whisper to you. Another voice echoed through the emptiness, a voice that was much more familiar to you. "Y/N?" the second voice called and you felt a light touch on your shoulder. The first voice, the alluring one laughed and then it was gone. As was the nothing.

Your head jolted up and you looked around frantically. "Hey, Y/N. It's just us. You dozed off." Steve spoke and you took a deep breath, pulling the headphones still playing My Chemical Romance off of your head and settling them on your neck. "mierda- Yeah sorry.." You pushed out quickly, shaking your head quickly and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Steve nodded and gave an understanding smile "No, it's alright. You have been working quite hard lately. I'm not surprised you needed a rest" He chuckled, gently patting your shoulder. "Right right.." You chuckle and Tony's voice rings throughout the room like he has a microphone, he was always good at making people aware he was there. "Ah, Sleeping beauty's awake. Just in time too." He hummed and you raised your eyebrow, sitting up a little in your seat. "Oh?" You questioned and Steve picked up where Tony left off. "While you were resting Loki was apprehended. We have him in a holding cell currently but… We need some to talk to him." Steve explains as he gestures to you. You sigh "and you want me to do it?" Thor nods and gestures to himself "As much as I'd like to he isn't going to talk with me and if he does he will likely just get aggravated. But you are not only very intelligent and resilient but you are a Demi-god. To Loki they are all 'mere mortals' but you? You may not be a full God but you're close. He may be more willing to speak if you aren't mortal."

You could understand that. It would make sense that he'd want to talk with someone more like him in that aspect, especially given how he seems to treat humans. You thought for a moment and then nodded. "I'll do it but I can't promise I'll be able to get anything from him. "You say, setting your phone and headphones on the table and getting up from your chair. Natasha furrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms "Be careful down there. Don't let him get in your head." Natasha says in a way that to most would sound like a command but you knew it was concern. "Don't worry, viuda. I'll be just fine." You say, giving a firm and reassuring rub to her arm accompanied by a small smile. Natasha flashed one back.

It didn't take long to get to the room Loki was held in, though it was a bit tedious. So many doors requiring palm scans or badges. It's understandable security but such a hassle. You approached the pair of doors and pressed your palm to the scanner, thankfully for the final time, and finally entered the room. You took a quick glance around, getting a feeling for your surroundings before your eyes landed on the cell. You said nothing and raised your eyebrow. Loki stood with his hands behind his back and stared at the wall. You couldn't see his face though you had a strange feeling that he was grinning. You made your way closer and with each step, you felt the world around you become less of a concern like your mind was purely fixated on the God before you. Loki chuckled and you froze. He turned to look at you and it seemed he planned to say something but stopped, instead tilting his head and giving you a curious look. "You seemed so confident walking in. What's wrong, pet?" Loki cooed and you felt your back straighten out and your mouth goes dry. "I-" For the first time in a very, very long time, you were completely lost for words.

You formed so many sentences in your head but none would leave your mouth, 'Lord you're pretty', 'Kiss me' 'who do you think you are? Calling me pet?', 'fuck m-', maybe you should stop there. You blinked repeatedly and took a deep breath "Look. I'm not going to- " Loki cuts you off. "You may want to keep your thoughts in check, little thing. Wouldnt want anyone to find out what goes through that pretty head of yours, now would we?" Loki whispers with a sly smile. Your eyes go wide and he laughs softly "Yes, pet. I see everything going through your mind. I weaseled my way in long before you came here for me. Don't you remember? That dream you had? It was so difficult getting you to doze long enough to get in with that music in your ears. What was it? My Chemical- oh what does it matter." Loki spoke and with each word he got closer to the glass and seemingly without even realising, so did you. You stared into his eyes, enamored with his beauty, and yet with every second that passed your breathing got quicker and quicker and quicker until- "Sshh… breath." Loki whispered to you and your body relaxed like its only want was to do as the God said. "Thats it.. Good boy."

You felt so enamored by Loki, he was so alluring. He was so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful and his voice settled deep within you whenever he spoke. God, he was so perfect- no. You cut your thoughts off, managing to slip from the mental grasp he had for a moment. "Stop that- I" You spit stepping away from the glass "Get out of my head get-" It felt like no matter how hard you tried you couldn't finish a sentence. "Oh but pet… It's so nice in there. So many thoughts. " Loki cooed, tilting his head. You stumble backward, landing on the floor where you sit for a moment. "Careful, pet. " Loki mocks but before he can say anything more you scramble towards the door and leave, his laughter echoing through your head.

Quite a lot of time had passed since that interaction and you hadn't seen Loki since. You had made sure of that. you did all of your work from behind the scenes, not daring to go out in the field again after what had happened. You still dream of him sometimes. You kept your work away from the fight, up until now that is. The fight was ruthless and worse than anyone could have planned for and they needed you. Unfortunately, they needed you here, in Stark tower, alone with him.

You stare at Loki with stern eyes, spinning a butterfly knife in your right hand and holding a gun in your left. "Long time no see, Pet." Loki hummed and you almost toppled, almost. You clenched your jaw. While those dreams were slightly annoying, they did allow you to get accustomed to Loki's ways. "Te voy a destrozar, Serpiente" You snapped, managing to push down the urge to allow him to bend you to his every whim. Loki tilted his head and smiled like a challenge. He stepped closer and you stepped back. This little game went on until your lower back pressed against the bar and in response you raised your knife and pointed it toward Loki, keeping him at a distance.

The space was only kept for a moment. Loki lifted his scepter and gently guided the knife down, stepping closer to you. "Now now, little one. Calm yourself. "He's so close you can almost feel his breath against your face. He stares down at you and moves his spare hand to the knife. "Drop it." He commands and without thinking you drop both the gun and the knife. "Oh good boy, I didn't even have to ask for both. So good for me" Loki whispered, reaching up to hold your face. "Look at you. So desperate. " Loki gently turns your face in various directions, as if inspecting his food. You feel heat begin to pool in your stomach and your face goes red. What would everyone think of you? If they saw this? Saw what Loki could do to you? Loki slowly pushed his knee between your legs and you gasped, your hands gripping the edge of the counter. "So needy." You feel his breath close in on your neck and his hand tilts your head back but before you feel contact he speaks. "Tell me you want this." Loki commands and your breath hitches.

You are silent for a moment. You have never wanted something more and yet you falter. You consider it for a moment, fearing what others may think if they ever found out. Loki sensed your worry, bringing his mouth to your ear "No one will know. It will be our pretty little secret. " He reassures and you hesitate for a moment before nodding as much as you could in his grasp. Loki only chuckles. "No, Darling. I said tell me. Say it. I want to hear you." Loki purred, you could hear the smile in his voice. "Please." You manage to say, unable to look him in the eye. "Look at me." He demands but you do not comply. His knee presses firmer to your crotch and your eyes dart towards him "Good boy. now speak up. Use your words." He always knew just the right things to say, didn't he? "Please, I want you- please" You begged, your words divulging into soft moans as Lokis knee moved against you.

Lokis scepter now leaned against the counter, leaving his hands free to roam. And roam they did. His hands slid up your shirt and you shivered at the frigid touch, Lokis fingers barely brushing against the skin. He traced your sides and up to your top surgery scars, dragging his fingers along them. "such pretty skin, so perfect" he whispered as he pressed kisses to your neck. His left hand kept tracing your scars whereas the other rose a small bit to toy with your nipple. You gasp, the combination of your neck getting marked, your nipples being touched and Lokis knee against your crotch all combining to create a wonderful sense of pleasure.

Loki continues this for a few seconds more before chuckling. "I know what you want, pet. I know what you need." Loki whispers, nibbling at the shell of your ear. The hand tracing your scars slides down, stopping just below the band of your trousers. Loki looks to you for confirmation and you nod profusely. He slides his hand under the band and into your boxers, getting close to your cock but pulling away, teasing you. You whine " por favor te necesito" you pant and he chuckles. Two of his fingers slide down to your cock and begin to rub at an agonisingly slow pace. His mouth pulls away from your neck and Loki stares at your lips as he strokes at your cock. "Kiss me." You say and for the first time, Loki seems a little shocked. "Kiss me niño bonito" you hum, the visible shock giving you confidence. A wicked smile crossed Lokis face and within seconds his lips were pressed to yours, his tongue finding its way into your mouth rather quickly. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers sped up, your hands moving to find their place in his hair, gripping it tightly. The actions pulled a small moan from Loki and you smiled into the kiss, giving his hair a small tug in response. "You are getting confident pet" He pulls away from the kiss momentarily to speak before immediately pressing your lips together once more. Your hips buck slightly and your moans get louder and less controlled, one hand in Lokis hair and the other trailing down his back. "And you are getting close too. I can feel it." He chuckled. Lokis fingers sped up once more, keeping the new speed consistent and moving from your mouth to your neck. Your neck was already riddled with bruises and Loki planned to add many more. "That's it, closer, pet. Get closer for me." Loki said, practically pleading. You gasp and moan, feeling heat pool in your stomach "Yes, Good boy, cum. Cum for me, pet" Loki panted as though he was just as excited about your climax as you were. "That's it, be a good boy and cum" Your head flings back and your knees feel weak. You feel Lokis arm snake around your waist and his fingers leave your cock. You can't help but close your eyes. "Good, so good for me. You did so well." He praised and you smiled weakly. "Such a pretty smile. " he cooed. "I know you're tired. The pleasure from a God, even to a demi-god such as yourself, feels quite stronger than from a human. " Loki chuckled and you simply nodded. "eso fue increíble.." You mumble and you feel yourself being lifted into Lokis arms. "Rest, pet. Sleep." He says and you do just that. You allow darkness to overtake you and the best sleep of your life.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Spanish Key :

That was amazing - eso fue increíble

pretty boy - niño bonito

please I need you - por favor te necesito

I'm going to tear you apart, Snake - Te voy a destrozar, Serpiente

widow - viuda

shit - mierda

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

check out my pinned post for some guidance on how to request one shots or story ideas <3

[sparrow-orion-writes]

Home Sweet Home

OC Kiss week, Day 2: Food

Ship: April/Ember

WIP: Neon Glow in Gold Dust

Word count: 481

Synopsis: April's memories of his childhood tend to come and go.

--

The sound of the door slamming shut reverberates through the almost-silence of the apartment; the telltale sign that April is home. Under the bubbling of he pan, the man bounds into the kitchen and heaves in an over-exaggerated inhale. “What is that smell?”

“That’s what happens when ya actually use yer cooker,” Ember mutters dryly, his deep voice trying to be disguised by the sound of the bubbling pot. Still, with an amused smile and a raised eyebrow, he looks over to his approaching partner, “…to cook food, just to clarify, not to brew science experiments that could be classed as war crimes.”

April shrugs loosely, resting his head on Ember’s shoulder. “It smells nice.” It has a floral quality to it that reminded him loosely of his childhood. The calming smell of spices and burnt herbs floating over him, he closes his eyes like a melody is soothing him to sleep. Ember does not disturb him; he is more than used to April’s ability to float off elsewhere.

April thinks of a home that never was quite a home, sat at a table that he never felt welcome at, sipping broth from a cracked bowl in the setting sun. The cold chilling him to the bones as he held his dinner close, protectively, small hands cradling sustenance like a godsend.

He shivers and opens his eyes. Ember presses a kiss to his forehead. “Are ya alright?”

“Yeah.” The way he says it, breathless and exhausted, tells them both that isn’t the answer he wants to give. Ember brings the wooden spoon up to April, he tastes it without blowing on it, refusing to wince as it burns his lips. “It tastes nice.”

“Thanks.” There’s a quiet, untamed silence, for just a long moment. But it lingers long enough that Ember isn't quite sure how to break it. When it comes to April, he rarely does. “D’ya wanna talk ‘bout it?”

April hesitates a moment, staring at the surface of the pot, before sighing. “Sometimes I forget things, and then things bring them back, but I’ll forget again anyway.”

“I get that.” He sips some of the stew himself, humming in appreciation “…d’ya wanna talk about…what specifically?”

“Oh, the usual, my parents were dickheads.”

Ember laughs, shaking his head, moving to turn the cooker off. It’s a rusty old thing, but he still treats it with an abundance of care. “Yeah, we knew this,” he takes April’s hand in his own and presses a kiss to his knuckles - something that he's half sure he picked up from Ari, because he swears he never used to be this gentle.

Then, April never used to be this gentle with him, either. It's funny how things change.

"Dinner?" Ember gestures towards the pot.

"Good idea, we can save the trauma for dessert!"

"Oh my g-"

"-It was funny!"

"Just eat yer fuckin' stew."

--

Taglist:

@gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream

@careful-pyromancer

@captain-kraken

@livvywrites

If you like my writing and would like to read more, you can now add yourself to our taglist! (Or just let us know if you want to be added)

[sekhisadventures]

Aziguni's Lucky Number

Valdrakken, the Roasted Ram

Shalandrae sat at the bar as Nitika examined her arm. It had been a few days now and their adversary had yet to reappear, but after that incident Nelen and Grimo agreed that it was almost certain that she targeted Shalandrae because she was alone… and so they all decided to pair up whenever heading out for the time being.

Groups of two, minimum, and never leaving without one of Grimo’s new devices.

With the help of the engineers staying in Valdrakken he was able to replicate his device and made enough for at least half of both Avalon and Savage United now, though it was slow going. Making them small enough to wear on the wrist yet sensitive enough to detect Dissonantia’s demonic allies was tricky work and required some specific materials which weren’t as easy to obtain on the Dragon Isles as they might have been closer to Orgrimmar.

It also didn't help that some people couldn't wear one. Shalandrae's shapeshifting power would render one absorbed into her body (and possibly break it) when she transformed, and Nelen had much the same issue. His own robes were spelled to change size when he became a worgen, but such magic would interfere with the watch's sensors.

At the bar with the night elf and tauren were Nelen and Leza, the former going over a spellbook with the latter to describe the finer points of conjuring foodstuffs from pure magic. The vulpera girl had been eager to learn that one as soon as she could. No vulpera grew up in Vol’dun without experiencing the lean times as it were, and the ability to feed her family with arcane energy alone was something she wanted to master as soon as she could.

Further up the table was Zhan-min, the pandaren man writing in a leather bound journal. His own brewing notes. He and Jaie had been talking recently, and she was trying to talk him into doing something specific. While the pandaren man was hesitant, he couldn’t deny that Jaie’s idea had merit… but he hadn’t quite shared with the others what exactly she wanted him to do yet.

After several long moments and a few gentle prods to gauge Shalandrae’s reaction, the tauren woman nodded, “Well, it looks like besides some spots on your arm still being slightly lighter than the rest you’re almost healed. Should go away in a day or two.” she said, releasing the druid’s limb.

Shalandrae gingerly felt over her arm as Nitika added ‘as long as you don’t pick at it’ under her breath, the elf rolling her eye at her. “Yeah, I know… but yeah, Sekhi and Dareley did good work. I blacked out after Dissonantia ran off, but apparently she’d made a real mess of me.” she frowned. “Bilescourge… ugh… saw too many of those damned things on Argus…” she sighed, then looked up at the sound of hooves approaching through the large stone building. “… huh, speaking of Argus…” she murmured with a grin.

Aziguni was walking towards them, the draenei woman smiling a bit awkwardly as she approached, and as she drew close Shalandrae noticed something different about her outfit.

“Hey, um… Aziguni… where’s your tabard?” asked Shalandrae with a raised eyebrow. Ever since she’d met her, the draenei had worn the tabard of the Dragonscale Expedition… but today it was missing.

Aziguni chuckled a bit nervously, “Well… about that…” she began…

Expedition Field Headquarters, Some Hours Earlier

“A formal complaint against me from the Reliquary?!” demanded Aziguni as she stood in a large tent, across from a dwarven man wearing a loose comfortable top, trousers with lots of pockets, and sturdy boots. He had a long thick beard of black hair running to grey and a monocle in one eye.

“Lass, I get where yer comin’ from aye, but… well…” he took a breath, “A few of th’ other members of th’ Expedition stated they felt… unsafe… given who you’ve been associatin’ with lately.” he nodded, resting his hands on a large table between them.

The table was covered in maps, various bones and samples of rock and stone, a few plant clippings, several pictures taken with a S.E.L.F.I.E. camera of native wildlife, and the like… but in the middle turned so Aziguni could read it was a scroll bearing the seal of the Reliquary.

“… who I have been associating with…” she replied icily, “This is about my brother, isn’t it Balfir?” she looked down at it, then up at him. “Du’thaes and Zelan are behind this, aren’t they?” she frowned.

The dwarf shook his head, “Lass, ye know I cannae answer that. Th’ whole point o’ these sorta complaints is that they’re promised anonymity ta avoid retaliation. All I can tell ye is that they’re in th’ Horde.” he nodded. That much was obvious given that it was the Reliquary making a complaint. Until recently the Horde and Alliance were at war with each other, so the Dragonscale Expedition had set up this system to address issues before they became outright battles.

She stood up, looking at him, “I see… and what does the Explorer’s League say about this?” she asked, keeping her voice as even as possible.

Balfir sighed. “Honestly lass, I’ve been gettin’ rumblin’s from our side as much th’ same. I understand he’s yer family ‘n Velen vouches for ‘em… but…” he paused, thinking for a moment, “… I cannae pretend that there ain’t a lot o’ people on both sides who’d be happy ta see th’ Eredar bugger back off ta Argus.”

Aziguni shook her head, “I cannot believe this Balfir… are you honestly telling me that to satisfy this I would be expected to cut ties to my own brother?” she demanded, throwing up her hands.

Balfir frowned, “Aye, that be th’ lot of it… Again, I understand where yer comin’ from lass, but yer brother is a bloody man’ari! I sympathize, but…” he began.

She scowled, “Yes… and now I am being asked to choose between him and my work for the Explorer’s League and the Expedition. Is that it?” she asked.

He nodded firmly, “Aye lass. That be it.”

She looked down at the notice one more time… then reached for the strap holding her quiver on and undid it, dropping it on the floor.

“Er… lass?” asked the dwarf, looking shocked at her actions.

“Shut up.” she snapped, pulling her tabard off over her head, then tossing it on his desk in a heap. “If I must choose between my job and my family, then there is no choice to be made.” she replied, pulling her quiver back on and turning to go. “I have worked for the Explorer’s League since I first arrived on Azeroth, but now that my brother is… an undesirable… I am being confronted with such a decision. Give my regards to Brann and the others…” she nodded curtly, turning to leave as Balfir goggled at her.

As she left she paused, seeing three elves standing a ways off. Zelan, Du’thaes, and Erimisa… the ones she had encountered after helping Malgum with his injury.

She smirked, gave them a very rude gesture, then whistled as she walked off towards the path out of the camp. As she did Eocundo and Muaaqi made their way over to her and followed alongside her on the road back to Valdrakken.

The Roasted Ram

Aziguni sat at the table with a fresh mug of moonberry wine, blowing out her lips. “In hindsight I may have still been a little testy given everything that had happened since Malgum arrived… but… yes… I am no longer affiliated with the Expedition, or the Explorer’s League at all.” she sighed.

Shalandrae nodded in understanding… to both sides of the story infact. She was willing to at least attempt to tolerate Malgum’s relation to Aziguni, now that the two of them were… well… ‘giving it a try’ as they decided the morning after Dissonantia’s attack, but she also saw where those who complained were coming from too. While it sounded like those Aziguni suspected of it were doing it out of malice, she also believed that there were those with genuine fears and concerns towards the man’ari.

After what she’d seen of Malgum’s ‘felfury,’ she couldn’t deny those fears had merit… even Aziguni was worried seeing that, though her concerns were more helping her brother control and contain such awful powers, possibly even removing them somehow.

Leza huffed at them, the young vulpera piping up. “That’s a buncha yeena crap Aziguni. They can’t just expect ya ta drop your brother like that. I don’t care what he did, family is important!” she nodded firmly.

Nelen nodded, “Mm… that’s easy to say when you haven’t been to Argus apprentice… but… yes, Velen trusts in Azraal and his followers so I’m willing to at least give them the same chance the Alliance gave my people.” he nodded. To say that the worgen were not immediately accepted by the Alliance would be an understatement. The late King Varian Wrynn himself had originally tried to block them rejoining their former allies, and if not for Anduin’s persuading and Greymane helping the Varian with his own less literal but no less problematic inner beast the Gilneans may well have been on their own.

Shalandrae had moved next to Aziguni after her tale had begun, the druidess holding her hand with her uninjured one, a look of concern on her face. “So… what are you going to do now?” she asked.

Aziguni shrugged, “I… honestly do not know Shalandrae. The Explorer’s League gave me a salary for my aid since arriving on Azeroth. Now that this is gone… well…” she winced. At the time it had seemed so clear, but gear needed repairs and both herself and her two companions needed feeding, nevermind that she went through a LOT of arrows. Being a hunter could get very expensive.

Zhan-min however was grinning, the heavyset pandaren man leaning back in his chair. “Well I got a dang good idea for ya gal.” he said. “Back home in Halfhill, we believe a lot in ‘lucky numbers,’ and given how ya’ll are an item now… well…” he smirked, “Maybe its just a goofy ol’ Pandaren superstition, but they say that seven is a good number fer… relationships. ‘specially new ones.” he nodded.

Nelen and Shalandrae looked at him, then the druid shrugged. “Okay… seven… what?” she asked.

Zhan-min’s grin widened, “Ain’t it obvious girl?” he pointed to himself and held up a finger. “Me…” he jerked a thumb back at Nelen and held up another, “Th’ boss back there…” he pointed to Shalandrae and held up a third, “Ya’ll…” then he held up a fourth, “Jaie,” a fifth, “Sam,” and a sixth, “Dareley.” and then he looked at Aziguni meaningfully and nodded slow.

Aziguni blinked in confusion, then it dawned on her as she pointed to herself and replied, “… seven?” she asked.

Zhan-min laughed, “Well why not? Seven is a dang good number for couples, you two are a couple, ‘n if you join us that makes seven of us!” he grinned, gesturing to them and nodding, then adding in an almost offhanded way, “Also ya’ll’re definitely on Dissonantia’s shit-list now that she knows yer th’ one who drew her picture… sooooo… yeah, probably best ya’ll stick close ta us if ya can.” he turned, looking back at Nelen, “Well? Ya’ll agree with me right boss man?”

Nelen scratched at his beard, “I can’t deny that you make a good point there. I don’t follow Pandaren Numerology myself, but seven is a magically significant number… and, yes, now that Dissonantia knows who you are…” he frowned, looking at Aziguni, “Honestly you’re lucky she didn’t come after you already. From what Shalandrae told me she was murderous even by her standards.”

Shalandrae was grinning. She had grown closer to Aziguni after what had happened and while they two were still feeling things out… she did know that the idea of the draenei woman being around more often was something she was quite happy with. “Well, I think we both know you have my endorsement… and probably Dareley’s too.” she nodded, “He and I tend to agree on most things.”

Aziguni chuckled a bit, “Yes… er… I have noticed you and Paladin Steelhammer have a very… um…” she began.

Shalandrae snorted a bit as Nelen chuckled and shook his head. “No!” replied the night elf, “No no no no no by Elune no! Its not like that… Dareley and I are just… well… we’ve known each other since Northrend and… yes, we’re just very very good friends. We founded Avalon together… but… yeah, he’s… not looking for a relationship with anyone.” she nodded.

“Don’t worry Aziguni, you’re not the first one to make that assumption about them. They do rather come off like an old married couple sometimes don’t they?” asked Nelen as Zhan-min gave a loud belly laugh as only one of the Pandaren could, a real belly laugh where he jiggled all over.

Shalandrae gave Nelen an annoyed look, but she didn’t deny it with more than just a small shrug.

Aziguni blushed in embarrassment at that, hearing Leza giggling as she shook her head, “Well, now that we have that cleared up… yes, if you are offering I would be quite pleased to join Avalon. Is there… um… any official documentation? An orientation process? A new tabard?” she asked quizzically.

Nelen shook his head, “No no, none of that. The only one of us who wears a tabard is Dareley, and its his old Argent Crusade one from when he was in Northrend. We’re fairly informal. Unless anyone objects, you’re in… and I doubt Sam would complain… and I know Jaie wouldn’t.” he smirked. Jaie had been telling him a few times how frustrating it was to watch Aziguni and Shalandrae dance around what was clearly a budding relationship, especially when she had trouble finding anyone who wasn’t… well… Jaie found most non-pandaren women to be ‘too skinny.’

Aziguni smiled at his words, nodding, then settled in next to Shalandrae as Nelen ordered them a fresh round of drinks.

“So… Zhan… seven is ‘good for relationships?’” asked Leza, “Uh… how does that work?” she asked.

Zhan-min looked at her, then frowned and stroked his beard, “Huh, yeah guess it must sound odd ta someone who ain’t from Pandaria. Its… um… Pandaren is a kinda… tricky… language fer outsiders ta learn.” he explained. “Lotta overlap in words ‘n how ya’ll say a word can change what it means.” he nodded to the young vulpera, “Our word fer seven sounds th’ same as ‘even’ so people think it’s good fer couples ‘cause it means an ‘even’ relationship. Fair, both people carryin’ their share o’ th’ load… ya’ll get me?” he asked.

“Oh… neat.” she giggled, her tail wagging, “Do ya got a lucky number?” she asked curiously.

He grinned wide, “Sure do! Nine’s mah lucky number, ‘cause its th’ same word we use fer ‘alcohol!’” he laughed, taking his mug as the barmaid came by with a fresh tray.

Aziguni chuckled along with the others, then looked around at them “Oh, um… I did mean to ask… have any of you seen Malgum?”

At this the laughter slowly trailed off. Shalandrae, Nelen, and Zhan-min looked between each other, then Zhan-min shrugged as Nelen and Shalandrae shook their heads in response.

Aziguni frowned, looking worried, “Oh… I was hoping… I haven’t seen him since he ran off after Dissonantia in the Azure Span. I mean… I know he’s probably fine… a man’ari is a very hard thing to kill…” she replied, tapping her finger against the table anxiously.

Nelen shrugged and nodded, “Mm, yes that is true… well, I’ll ask the others when they come back in if they’ve seen him anywhere…”

The Twisting Nether, Dissonantia’s Lair

“’ow much bleedin’ longer is this gonna take Gremori?” growled Dissonantia. Binding Malgum and forcing him to return with them had been difficult, nevermind keeping the spell active enough that he couldn’t invoke the felfury again once his strength returned.

“It’ll be done when its done Dis! This isn’t easy! Eredar skin is tough!” she replied, holding a long, sharpened demon fang in one hand and a jar of felblood and other foul ingredients in the other as she dipped the fang in it, then went back to work.

Malgum snarled around an improvised gag that Dissonantia had Cenoon make when she’d gotten sick of his cursing and threats, which the Incubus had crafted together worryingly quickly. Malgum’s body was uncovered above the waist and his arms and back now sported the beginnings of several large tatoos that glowed a sickly greenish glow.

“Good bleedin’ fing yez know how ta do this…” she grumbled, annoyed she had to rely on the felsworn’s skill.

“Damn right it is. We ink these right and you put your spell in them, and Malgum is as good as your puppet!” she laughed as the captive eredar snarled around his gag and thrashed about, causing her to step back until his strength ran out, then continue her work.

Dissonantia grinned wide, “Mmhm… lookin’ forward ta seein’ th’ bleedin’ look on Nelen’s face when I send that ball o’ felfire ‘n crazy at them!” she cackled.

At this point however, Gremori paused, then looked back at her, “Uh… Dis? You… can’t let him do that.” she warned.

Dissonantia sat up and frowned, the witch seated in her throne as she held one arm out, maintaining the control spell that kept Malgum from calling upon his fel-cursed strength. “Wot? Why th’ feck not?!”

Gremori sighed, “The felfury burns everything. That’s why that whole part of the Azure Span went up like that. Anything around them is burned up, including them. If Malgum uses it, then it’ll burn away the tattoos too.” she explained.

Dissonantia scowled, “Well feck… looks like me new toy is gonna be missin’ one of th’ best bits.” she frowned, “Well, at least he can deal with that draenei bitch that helped Nelen make all those feckin’ wanted posters.” she smirked as Malgum growled and cursed, his words rendered unintelligible by his gag.

“Eh? Wot was that Malgum?” she taunted, “I couldn’t quite hear yez, boyo. Speak up! Didja say ‘I wanna strangle me sister ta death with me bare hands?’ Tsk tsk… patience! Gremori gotta finish yez’s pretty new tattoos first…” she grinned wide, watching Malgum strain against his chains as he bellowed oaths of retribution and death around his gag again.

Dissonantia smirked, a new slave under her direct control… and unlike the black dragon Nitika couldn’t free this one. An’she’s light would burn Malgum as much as the markings, maybe even kill him.

Yes, controlling a dragon was a good idea, but she decided to stick to what she knew… and what she knew was demons.

Next Story

Previous Story