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koisuko · 1 month

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Is it alright if I request mk1 characters with a reader who is a black panther, tiger or lion? Platonic, of course.

Lost motivation for this one, and it’s been sitting in my drafts for a million years so I’ll only do these three fellas.

TW: potential mentions of animal mistreatment, gn reader, slight gore

ft: Liu Kang, Raiden and Kung Lao

Liu Kang

Being a god, he had seen his fair share of unusual things, big and small, yet even this took him by surprise. Walking through the woods near the Wu Shi Academy, his bright glowing eyes took in the serene environment around him, centering his mind and relieving the stress simultaneously.

It wasn't long before he was stopped in his tracks, a bewildering sight before him, a sleek black panther. Your fur bristled down your back, your ears folded as you bared your sharp canines to him in fear. Your fur was slightly tinted red, flesh wedged between your teeth, and a brown leather strap circled your neck. A now broken chain connected to a loop in the collar, a gash severed your side in your fight for freedom. You were once a pet, a toy, your existence solely for the entertainment of humans, your mother slaughtered in front of you and your siblings sold at auctions. You were subjected to cruelty, the sick treatment of your kind made your stomach churn, you weren't about to let it happen again.

You bared your teeth once more, a deep guttural hiss left your throat, this human was strange, his eyes bright like headlights. If you weren't so afraid, you would be curious, his aura felt..safe, comfortable, yet you didn't let up on your defenses. You didn't dare move, the gash on your side stinging and irritated. Dirt festered the wound further from your earlier scuffle with your captors.

The human put his hands up, kneeling down to your level with a smile. He didn't move forward yet strangely, he didn't run away in fear. You nearly gave in to your curiosity, but the memories of similar behavior from your captors only to be met with betrayal lingered in the back of your mind, freezing you in place. Your hissing ceased, your breathing still rapid, reflecting your inner battle and fear for your life.

“I mean you no harm.” Just his voice in itself brought you a small amount of peace. Slowly, you stepped closer towards him. Your nose held high to sniff the scent carried through your nostrils from the gentle breeze of the forest. He didn’t smell like your captors, no, quite the opposite. Sensing your unease, he stood, taking a small step back. “Come, let us tend to those wounds.” As he began retreating where he came, you followed silently behind.

Raiden and Kung Lao

“No way, that has to be a beetle!” Kung Lao brought his finger to point at the small bug, having harshly removed it from its cozy home while farming. “Look at that, see?” He gestures to the shiny bit on the back, “definitely a beetle.” Raiden rolled his eyes at his antics, “we have more important things than this debate, Kung Lao.” He tilts his head, raising a brow at his best friend. “Oh come on Raiden, just admit that I’m right,” Kung Lao brought one hand to sit on his hip, while the other gripped the hoe, leaning his weight on it slightly. Raiden didn’t even entertain the idea. Instead, he simply rolled his eyes before resuming his vigorous harvest of cabbages.

Kung Lao had a witty reply at the tip of his tongue, ready to further irritate his friend. Until a sudden commotion reached their ears, causing them to perk up and look to eachother with confusion. In the center of the village, a crowd had formed. Various villagers stood in a circle with their arms raised in defense at the thing in the center of it. Children who were once playing, now cower inside their homes. “What’s going on here?” Raiden asked, a villager running in fear had stopped to answer him, “tiger!” Perplexed, the two men looked to each other before pushing their way through to the center. The villager certainly wasn’t lying, there in the center of the group was a tiger, whipping around with massive teeth bared in defense. Its ears were flattened, stature low as if ready to run at any moment. It didn’t seem to be looking to hurt anyone, more like it looked afraid and confused.

Raiden and Kung Lao pushed further towards the center, standing before you with outstretched arms and palms foreword to convey their means for peace. “Everyone stand back,” Kung Lao ordered, not once taking his eyes off you. They didn’t look at you in fear, their eyes wide in both shock and awe. What a magnificent creature, Raiden thought to himself while he admired your stripes and fearsome display. The group surrounding you slowly became more sparse and spaced out, easing your stress only a little. You brought your focus to the two in front of you, another guttural warning sent their way. “It is okay, we mean you no harm,” Raiden took a small step towards you, hoping that if you were to run away from him that it would be in the direction of the nearby forestry. You were not hurt, but had followed a goat towards the village and had been found by terror ridden villagers. Their shrill shrieks and shouts had coaxed you away from your home and unfortunately, right in the center of human territory.

You never had a good relationship with humans. The last experience being trapped in a cage, poked and prodded until you snapped at them, only to be punished for such behavior. A interaction burned into your brain, forever tainting your view on such beings. They took another slow step, causing you to tense up and hiss aggressively, the hairs on your back bristling. “Hey, we want to help, we won’t hurt you,” Kung Lao uttered, he kept his hands up and held a submissive posture. Raiden followed suit, mirror Kung Lao to, in theory, say they mean no harm in a language you understand. You took a second to glance to your right, where you could see the luscious greenery of the forest, peeking through two humans stood side by side. All you have to do is wait for the right moment, and bolt for safety between them.

Raiden could see you look, he glanced as well to meet where you were looking. He knew what you wanted, and was willing to help. He pointed slowly towards the two in your way, still keeping a heavy gaze in your direction, “you two, move to the side — slowly.” They did just that, moving at a snails pace to avoid causing you further panic. All the while, you were stiff and still, unsure and frankly, feeling unsafe. Raiden gestured to where you were looking with a steady hand, “we won’t hurt you,” he spoke softly. You stayed completely still for a moment, weighing your options and stalling out of fear. Was this a trick? Humans always play tricks, but what other options do you have?

With a surge of adrenaline, you burst into a sprint towards the entrance to the woods. As you neared, you slowed your pace to a trot before reaching a full stop, just before the entrance to your home. You turned to give one last look to the men. A small huff flaring your nostrils.

Raiden and Kung Lao watched you retreat into the forest, disappearing behind the shrubbery. A smirk played on Kung Lao’s lips, elbowing Raiden in the side, “so, still think it’s not a beetle?”

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crimsonkenjii-writes · 1 year

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Soft fingertips travel across Aizawa Shota’s rough jawline. The small hairs on his face scratching your skin as you hold him. His eyes closed as his silently enjoys the attention. His scratchy scruff now against your palms as you fully hold his face. Your thumb softly grazing over the small scar underneath his eye. It felt coarse compared to the undamaged skin surrounding it. Your thumb slowly tracing up and down it as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer into his lap. Shota always looked so at peace when he was finally in your arms. Home alone with you, all his responsibilities gone for the moment as he basked in your gentle, attentive treatment. It was almost cat like, as ironic as it was. How you would hold his face in your hands and he would just close his tired eyes, pushing himself more into your touch and seeking the warmth your hands would provide. Turning his head to press a small kiss to the center of your palm with chapped lips. His larger hand reaching up to hold yours. The calloused pads at the base of his fingers presssd against your knuckles. Shota’s hand easily enveloping yours. His eyes slowly opening to stare into yours, a serene look that nobody else but you ever saw. His eyes seemingly full of light despite how dark colored they really are. Slowly leaning in to place a delicate kiss on his forehead, whispering to him in a volume that no one else but Shota could hear. Causing the ends of his lips to barely rise into a soft smile. “You’re too kind to me, you know that?” He’ll whisper back before leaning in once more to place a kiss on your lips.

#shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota drabble #mha drabbles #aizawa fluff #aizawa x reader #aizawa drabbles #aizawa imagine

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lancermylove · 1 month

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Moments of Love (Oneshots)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Mammon, Satan x gn!Reader

Warning: None

Word Count: 965 (Mammon), 1453 (Satan)

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As the roadway turned around a gentle curve, small buildings lined the streets, nestled intimately together like a collection of vibrant boxes arrayed along a serpentine path. The charming town that was cradled between two majestic mountain ranges radiated a sense of tranquil seclusion. The air was invigoratingly fresh, and the sun shone brightly—a picturesque setting for exploration or simply taking in nature's beauty.

Despite the town's enchanting and serene ambiance, Mammon initially cast a skeptical gaze at the storefronts and buildings. The simplicity of a small-town festivity seemed lackluster compared to the grandeur he envisioned for a romantic retreat. He wanted an extravagant experience at a secluded resort with private beaches, sumptuous spa treatments, and luxurious amenities. You, however, preferred the small town's peaceful allure and retro charm. So, to make you happy, the demon gave in to your wish to celebrate the vacation there.

"We will be staying here," you exclaimed as a cottage came into view.

The cottage was nestled amidst dense foliage, offering privacy and seclusion accompanied by the soothing sound of rushing water from a nearby river. Mammon nodded but softly sighed in resignation. What was he supposed to do? He didn't care for the lush forest, didn't want to observe the wildlife, and definitely didn't want to ruin his expensive shoes by hiking the muddy trails. Although, he didn't say any of this out loud for your sake. 'Anything for your happiness,' he repeated over and over in his mind. While you excitedly explored the cottage, Mammon leaned against the porch railing, absentmindedly staring at the trees.

In the evening, you and Mammon ventured into the town. Much to your shock, the town had transformed into a tableau of romance, illuminated by candles and adorned with festive embellishments. The townspeople had gone above and beyond in their efforts to create a romantic atmosphere, bringing a feeling of intimacy and romance to the town. Heart-shaped lanterns and strings of white beads hung from the trees and buildings; streetlights had been draped with white and red velvet ribbons and sprinkled with rose petals; candles had been tucked into every available crevice.

You were taken aback by the transformation of the quiet, quaint town into a romantic wonderland. As you walked arm in arm with Mammon down the dimly lit street, you caught glimpses of couples sitting on benches, sharing intimate conversations, and kissing beneath the flickering lights. The atmosphere was truly romantic. Though you could feel Mammon's reluctance to openly admit his surprise, you noticed his slightly widened eyes wandering around.

Eventually, the two of you discovered a secluded hill offering a panoramic view of the area. The town below, bathed in the moon's ethereal glow, sparkled like a trove of gemstones scattered across the velvet of night. Countless flickering candles in the town cast a gentle glow across the area while the stars above choreographed a silent ballet in the expansive sky. The air was perfumed with a blend of nocturnal blossoms and the earthy scent of the surrounding woods. It was as if the universe had conspired to create a cocoon of romance exclusively for you and Mammon.

Nestled amidst this dreamlike setting, you spread a plush, soft blanket on the grassy underlay. Inside the pink wicker basket, an assortment of delectable treats and a bottle of fine wine were set beside two crystal glasses. For the final touch, you turned on a lantern and put it in the center of the blanket. Mammon looked at the setting in awe as a small smile graced his lips. "Man, you've outdone yourself."

"Only the best for a night like this," you replied affectionately, genuinely wanting to give him an unforgettable night. The two of you savored the curated selection of cheeses, fruits, pastries, and chocolates for a while as you made small conversation. Just as the velvet cloak of the night wrapped itself more snugly around the world, the distant horizon came alive with a sudden burst of color and light; fireworks of all sizes and hues erupted against the dark sky, painting it with streaks of red, blue, gold, and green.

Your eyes widened with delight, and a gasp escaped your lips. "Look, Mammon! Isn't it beautiful?"

Your boyfriend turned his gaze toward the spectacle, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah," he whispered. However, his gaze returned his attention to you, the reflected light of the fireworks dancing in the softness of his eyes. He enjoyed watching your reaction more; the more excited you grew, the more drawn he was. Reaching his hand to your cheek, he gently brushed your skin with the back of his fingers.

"The fireworks ain't got nothin' on your beauty," he whispered, his soft murmur caressing the edges of your right ear.

Surprised by his unexpected words, you slowly turned your head in his direction as your cheeks grew hot. One look into his gaze and the world receded; the sounds of the fireworks, the scent of the blooms and earth, the sparkling stars, the softness of the blanket under your legs - everything was gone. It was just you, Mammon, and a gentle breeze lightly tussling your hair.

Little by little, the two of you leaned in. Your heart pounded against your chest as the anticipation built. What felt like an infinite moment ended when your lips melted into a tender kiss, but the tenderness only lasted momentarily. You could feel the rush of blood through your veins, the butterflies in your stomach, and the heat rising in your body. With your lips still locked, you slowly leaned forward onto his body until Mammon's back was flat against the plush blanket. It was going to be one the longest and most romantic nights of your life.

The warm smell of coffee and waffles wafted through the air as Satan, disguised in his professorial guise, stepped into the quaint local café. Red and white streamers adorned the ceiling, fluttering gently in the warm breeze from a nearby heater, adding a festive yet somewhat gloomy atmosphere. Each table bore a small, delicately crafted heart-shaped statue, its glossy surface reflecting the soft, ambient lighting that cast a cozy glow throughout the room. Despite the romantic setup, the café was surprisingly devoid of patrons. This emptiness seemed to echo Satan's own sentiments as he found himself alone on a day traditionally celebrated with loved ones.

"One large black coffee," he ordered, his emerald eyes not meeting your gaze or even looking at your face once.

Wordlessly, you handed Satan a large black coffee, its dark, rich aroma wafting up in the cozy cafe. He gracefully accepted the cup, his fingers brushing against yours momentarily, sending a surprisingly warm tingle through your hand. He then made his way to a secluded corner table that offered both solitude and a view. As he settled into the chair, his emerald orbs drifted out of the window.

Outside, the city pulsed with life, unaware and indifferent to the turmoil within its walls. People passed by in a blur, each absorbed in their own world, their laughter and chatter distant and foreign. Satan's gaze deepened, reflecting a weariness that seemed to span eons. The weight of countless memories, of love lost and solitude endured, pressed heavily upon him. He cradled the cup of coffee in his hands, seeking warmth in its black depths as he grappled with an emptiness and a silence more profound than the void from which he once emerged.

With its quaint heart-shaped panes, the window framed snapshots of the world outside, where young couples meandered by, their hands entwined, their laughter and easy conversations floating in the air like music. The sunlight radiated a warm, golden hue over these shared happiness vignettes, highlighting the lovers' closeness and ease. Each couple seemed to exist in their own little bubble, a sphere of shared joy and connection that Satan found both enchanting and heart-wrenching.

He observed how their eyes sparkled with the reflection of someone who saw them as their whole world and how their bodies leaned into each other as if drawn by an invisible force. For a moment, Satan allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to share such a bond, to feel the joy of being deeply connected to another soul, to experience love not as an observer from the shadows but as an active participant in the light. Yet, as he watched these displays of affection and unity, his ache deepened.

While Satan was engrossed in his contemplation, you stole glances at the enigmatic stranger who had just entered your café. His presence was striking—blonde hair that fell just right, fair skin that seemed to glow under the café's lights, and deep emerald green eyes that held a universe of stories untold. Your heart fluttered as you observed him from behind the counter, his brooding demeanor only adding to his allure.

Seeing him so lost in his thoughts, so utterly alone, stirred something within you. You wanted to reach out, to offer a gesture that might pierce his solitude, even if just for a moment. Determinedly, you selected a heart-shaped cookie from the display, meticulously iced in white. It was a small token, but one infused with the warmth of human kindness. Approaching his table with a tentative smile, you placed the cookie before him, disrupting his thoughts with a gentle touch of reality.

"I thought you might enjoy this," you softly said. "The cookie is on the house, a little gift for White Day. I hope it brings a bit of sweetness to your day."

Satan's world momentarily paused the second his eyes landed on your face. The simple act of kindness, paired with your sweet smile, pierced through his haze of loneliness. As you return to the counter, he observed the lightness in your step and the bounce of your hair. After composing himself and finishing the cookie, which he found surprisingly delightful, Satan rose from his seat. With a newfound confidence, he approached the counter and slightly leaned against it.

"Excuse me," he began quietly, "Thank you for the cookie. Your kindness brightened my otherwise gloomy day. Would you…allow me the pleasure of taking you out for a coffee once your shift ends? I realize we're in a coffee shop," he added with a slight, charming smile, "but perhaps a change of scenery could provide a fresh backdrop for what I hope could be an enjoyable conversation."

His eyes locked with yours, a silent plea for companionship laced with a hint of hopeful curiosity as he waited for your response. Your heart skipped a beat at his unexpected invitation.

"Well," you whispered, a playful glint in your eye, "since we're already in a coffee shop, how about you try making a coffee for me instead? It's not every day we allow someone to come behind the counter."

Satan's expression shifted from hopeful anticipation to mild astonishment, clearly taken aback by your counteroffer. After a bit of hesitation, a smile broke through his surprise. "I accept your challenge," he declared, a spark of excitement lighting up his eyes. "I hope I can brew a cup that lives up to your standards."

With a nod, you beckoned him behind the counter, aware of the rules you were bending but too caught up in the moment to care. The café was empty, and no cameras to record the event, so the chances of you getting into trouble were slim. Your gaze followed his every movement, from familiarizing himself with the coffee machine to his gradual shift from hesitant to confident. To your surprise, Satan grasped the essence of coffee-making rather quickly.

"You seem quite at home with all of this," you remarked, unable to hide your admiration. "Have you worked in a coffee shop before?"

He glanced up, a hint of pride in his smile. "Not exactly. But I have a friend who owns a coffee shop, and I've lent a hand a few times. It's an enjoyable change of pace from my usual… engagements."

With a final flourish, he presented the latte to you, the surface adorned with an intricately designed foam cat, its whiskers and eyes crafted with impressive precision. "I hope this meets your approval."

Taking the cup in your hands, you were charmed by the artwork and the gesture. "This is amazing," you admitted, genuinely impressed. "I think you've just set a new standard for our lattes here."

One sip and your taste buds were shocked. It was as if all the flavors had been perfectly balanced to create a symphony of flavors in your mouth. "Are you sure you're not a professional barista in disguise?" You joked.

Satan's laughter momentarily filled the café with a different kind of warmth. "Perhaps I've missed my calling," he replied with a twinkle in his eyes, suggesting he was enjoying this unusual interaction.

As you took another sip, a dollop of milk foam stuck to your upper lip, unbeknownst to you. Satan's gaze lingered on the unintended mustache, and a playful smirk formed on his lips. "I must say, you wear that white mustache quite well," he teased.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and delight as you quickly wiped away the foam. But you were not prepared for Satan's next words. "I was half expecting you to ask for my assistance," he whispered, his voice dropping a few notes.

With a mischievous smile, you took another deliberate sip, ensuring a new layer of foam decorated your lip. "Well, I might just take you up on that offer," you replied, locking eyes with him.

The air between you and Satan became charged with a new spark, something neither of you expected. His thumb brushed against your skin, softly wiping away the foam, but he purposely touched your upper lip. The contact sent a ripple of sensation through you, your breath hitching slightly in response. The world seemed to pause around you both, the hum of the coffee machine and the distant city sounds fading into a hushed backdrop.

His eyes were deeply locked with yours. A mix of curiosity and a hint of something deeper was reflected in his emerald gaze. The blush that colored your cheeks was mirrored on his. It was as if time slowed, allowing you both to linger at this threshold between casual interaction and the potential for something more profound. There was a hint of a beginning, a promise of a story yet to unfold.

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➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

#obey me #obey me oneshot #obey me nightbringer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #mammon x reader #mammon obey me #satan x reader #satan obey me

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hometoursandotherstuff · 4 months

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Welcome to the Temple of the Living Goddess. Isn't it interesting how lately, there've been a rash of "cult-y" places for sale? The 1995 hacienda style home in Santa Fe, New Mexico has 9bds, 6ba, and is $1.95M. This property has been on the market for over 2 years.

Outer doors open to a long hall. (Does the dog convey?)

And, then you walk down to these arched stained glass doors with a heart. As you can see, "Temple of the Living Goddess" is written in gold over the arch.

I would feel uneasy here. This actually looks like a church. The description says that there's a "retreat building," so I'm guessing that this is it.

Not sure what this large space is.

There are 3 treatment rooms, so maybe this is one of them. I don't know what they're treating.

And, this is clearly a kitchen. A very Zen kitchen- it's so serene.

This is the hacienda style residence.

The living room has tree trunk beams and a nice Pueblo style fireplace. I like the built-in shelving, too.

The kitchen is nice- love the tiles.

So many large homes have these bunker rooms.

One of the baths is large and has beautiful tile.

There are 3.47 acres of land with fruit trees and flagstone paths to walk. There's also a 3 bedroom casita.

The property is zoned for several permitted uses including a potential B and B, family compound, religious facility or retreat center. Several other conditional or accessory uses are available with approval of the County of Santa Fe.

#unique property #spanish style homes #houses #house tours #compounds #home tour

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laduenadelswing · 3 months

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A hot spa date

One evening, you decided to treat yourselves to a relaxing spa day, seeking solace in the soothing warmth and pampering treatments. You entered the spa's serene ambiance, the air filled with the calming scent of lavender and the soft murmur of classical music.

Vox led you to a private treatment room, its walls adorned with soothing images of waterfalls and lush greenery. He helped you into a luxurious robe and left you to enjoy the tranquil atmosphere while he prepared for his own treatment.

When he returned, they found themselves drawn together, their eyes locking in an unspoken dialogue of desire. They exchanged a knowing smile, their hearts pounding with anticipation.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Vox suggested they try the couple's massage room. Your heart racing with excitement, eagerly agreed.

They stepped into the intimate room, its air infused with the delicate scent of jasmine. The massage table, covered in plush white linens, was positioned in the center of the room, bathed in soft, warm light.

A skilled masseuse greeted them with a warm smile and guided them through the ritual of relaxation. As the soothing strokes of her hands worked their magic, Vox found himself drifting into a state of blissful tranquility.

However, as the massage progressed, Vox couldn't resist the temptation to steal glances at your alluring form. He watched as her muscles relaxed, her body yielding to the gentle touch of the masseuse, and his desire for her grew stronger with each passing moment.

When the massage ended, Vox and you, their bodies feeling refreshed and their senses heightened, stepped out of the room, their hands intertwined. They wandered back to the main spa area, the lingering scent of jasmine clinging your their skin.

As they sat in the comfortable lounge area, sipping on herbal tea, their eyes met again, and the spark of desire ignited within them. They knew they couldn't resist their longing any longer.

With a shared look of understanding, they rose from their seats and slipped away, hand in hand, their hearts pounding with anticipation. They made their way to a secluded corner of the spa grounds, where a private Jacuzzi awaited them.

They stepped into the warm, bubbling water, the soothing jets massaging their weary muscles. The soft moonlight cast a romantic glow over the scene, and the gentle sounds of the surrounding landscape filled the air.

As they sat there, enveloped in the warmth and tranquility of the Jacuzzi, their eyes locked once again, and they knew that the moment had arrived. They leaned in towards each other, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss that ignited a fire within them.

The world around them faded away as they surrendered to their desire, their bodies moving in perfect harmony, their hearts beating as one. The passion was raw, untamed, and utterly consuming.

In the depths of their shared embrace, they found solace and fulfillment, a love that transcended the boundaries of the physical world. They were two souls entwined, forever bound by an invisible thread of affection.

#hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #spank me daddy

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lephamquynhnhu · 4 months

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Panacea

Chapter 3: The last remnant of epics (First Half)

Dan Feng x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: The reader has a default name, OOC, mentioned blood, violence. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: ~1k7

Summary: He met you on a drizzling day when hydrangea fully bloomed on its field. Amidst the sea of mild pastel petals, Dan Feng never thought the flowery domain that intertwined your fate was the precise thing withered with you. They said he was a dragon, a hero, a sinner, but never a person with love, hatred, sorrow, or joy like everyone else in this world. However, it was a demi-truth. He committed the cardinal sin because of you.

Note: Do you like...pain?

"The patient has been in a coma for 72 hours from being discovered. Hemoptysis with unknown cause and her condition refuse all drugs even cloudhymn does not meet the treat's purpose ."

Dawn breaks at the East horizon, shining fragile sunbeams on a nightingale at your window, where eglantine baths in the late-winter breezes. The bird tilts its head toward a man who closes the medical file to sit beside your headboard. Its black eyes shimmer at the sight of Dan Feng slowly stroking your hand to check the pulse in serene silence. He now understands why you wear gloves all the time, to conceal these wrinkles that dedicate the unrecoverable illness. His cloudhymn failed to cure because all your living circuits were damaged, and ADN is no longer to repair. Imbibitor Lunae always knows that mortals are frail and short-lived, including you, but he refuses to give up on you this early.

Therefore, he gambles his last hope in this brewing dose. A thin stream of smoke from your china cup leisurely dissolves into the air that swirls off his mind as the High Elder found your limp body sprawled onto the garden with blood had already dried and a pale complexion. His immovable spirit wavered for the first time when he realized none of the treatments adapted to your status. Initially, the Long Scion intended to hospitalize you at the Alchemistry Commission, yet a mysterious veil shrouded your identity, causing him to change his mind since Dan Feng attempted to search for records or used medicine as a reference to develop an appropriate method. He spotted a polaroid dyed in time hue and a small glass jar that lay neatly in the last drawer, which led to another surprising event after analyzing those items.

The stagnated content in that container was an inhibitor serum that does not register in any medical history. As for your polaroid, five people stand at an old ruin, and four of them wear cheerful smiles on their vague faces when a center girl gives two peace signs with her indifferent look. Dan Feng could not tell if she was you since a sandy filter tainted the photo's plane, and most of her broken features were faint. Besides, the line "Memento mori" was written in sea penmanship on the verso, which intrigued his curiosity no less because it means "Remember that you [have to] die" in the Latin language.

However, Imbibitor Lunae takes a respite temporarily from his unbelievable hypothesis to prioritize your current problem. He only simulates 70 percent from the unclear formula in two days since your condition is on edge. Judging at purple veins spread over your face like a spider web indicates that the High Elder's acupuncture is about not sustaining the ebbing circumstance. Just as Dan Feng distraughtly caresses your wilt hand, the convulsion symptom breakthroughs the limit and takes control of your body. Ignoring the heat that overwhelms his mind and burns down his tongue, the Long Scion immediately drinks the brewing herbs to drench you. No words can describe his elated expression when your eyelids flutter open, and all the dreadful symptoms withdraw promptly as the medicine kicks in, restoring your ruddy complexion.

Winter passed, Spring came, and another circular cycle of linear time started as your pear blossoms halo underneath the silver moonlight. All corners of the Shangri-La immerse into argent moonlit, which creates a luxuriant spectacle as you and Dan Feng sit on the terrace together for flower viewing. The ambiance brims with the sweet aroma of Spring's breath while ethereal petals litter the ground densely, woven like a florid rug. Looking at his space-out figure with the sheen liquid that gleamed beneath those green eyes, you cannot help but inquire about his tangled thoughts. The High Elder merely inhales a long exhalation and shakes his head to gulp down the mild spice of apricot wine.

"Nothing, I will bottom it up even if it is poisonous." - Unchanging his visage, Dan Feng's chiseled Adam's apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed it, earning your joyful giggle. Undeniably, the High Elder possesses an awful sense of humor.

Fireflies start lighting their green phosphor glims in the epiphyllum bush to attract your concentration. It is rare to see them at this time because fireflies usually appear in the Summer season, and no exception to the Shangri-La. As a result, you want to catch some and contemplate your new moon cactus at a close distance. Imbibitor Lunae still nonchalantly refills his cup with his eyes fixed on your animated silhouette before a dark cloud flies through, obscuring the shining moon.

Three deafening sounds reverberate through the house that seethes the vicinity as soon as the surroundings drown in darkness. In brief seconds, an unreversed upheaval occurs to change everything upside down. After the noise of his broken cup was the metal collision, and the sound of sharp tool stabbing in the wood followed up.

"So, is it you? Bai Lin the tyranny?" - Dan Feng is the first person to raise his voice, arousing the sedate blank. Combined with the silken peary light engraving dark and bright contrasting plates on the Long Scion's face, the cyan orbs glow like cat eyes under his shadowy bangs. However, there is no sliver of hostility in his gaze. A shallow cut on his cheekbone gradually emerges in a thin scarlet line when the black cloud leaves, rendering the full moon.

On the opposite side, a glimpse of the familiar figure materializes from a cyclone made of thousands of heavenly petals who points her sword toward him with a decisive look. Gripping the conceptual blade manifested by winds is Wrath of Mandala, which was once a replica of Three Grand Divine Weapons that is eligible to kill immortals. You eventually discard the camouflage to reveal your true identity and vigilantly stand still.

Even though answering his question is the smoothing melody of your wind chime hanging on the porch, Imbibitor Lunae knows his hypothesis is correct. In millions of possibilities, the Long Scion never expected or believed that he would meet a phantom from the past who attempted to assassinate him like this. In brief moments, you took advantage of the darkness to fly daggers at his position, but Dan Feng neutralized the first one by throwing the cup and summoning his spear to counter the second one. Nevertheless, he failed to completely evade the last dagger due to the poison that affected his body. The High Elder wonders if you orchestrate this scheme from the beginning because this atropin agent originates from Datura Metel. Maybe he was the worm in your garden that you mentioned. Nonetheless, your apricot wine is innocent, but not his ceramic cup.

"I ask of you, all of our memories are fake?" - Dan Feng exhales as blood cascades to his chin like a tear, feeling the paralysis sensation strike through to depress his central nervous system.

"Whoever aware of Devourers of abominations...MUST DIE!"

Avoiding to give him a direct answer, you hiss your carved motto and dash forward with the windy blade. Under the rousing battle of you and Imbibitor Lunae, pear blossom falling frenziedly as a downpour, those petals whirl around you two akin to a mad maelstrom when your masterful swordsmanship keeps tearing the air to pierce his defense. Like a death choreography under the flowery rain, sparklets flicker at your weapons crash underneath the bright moonlit, and the ground gets plowed every time your slashing form sweeps through. Staring into each other fiery eyes, you know the High Elder has reached his limit and is struggling to measure your intangible sword. Even in a weakened state, Dan Feng is still one of the most capable warriors, proving that the title Imbibitor Lunae is not a vainglory. Nevertheless, he cannot swing his spear as usual as the action slows down precisely 0.2 seconds due to the poison. Even with a small amount of poison, that condensed extraction is far enough to work well.

In finality, the balance battle skews to your side when you seize the opportunity to cast out his spear, causing it to fly aloft and implant into the mangled soil afterward. Imbibitor Lunae's irises squeeze to the limit when your sword tip awaits with the moon background.

"Those memories are real, and I rejoice to stay with the person named Dan Feng." - Your mind screams while darting forward, ready to bore a hole in his heart. Upon the force of the unparalleled wind that drives the High Elder's long locks thrown back when receiving a lethal strike with scattering petals disassociate.

Amidst the poetic colonnade of pear blossom, time seems to stop flowing, and two people stand motionless as a long sword means to saber through the man's body, intending to strip him of permanent life. However, her sword tip barely grazes his chest.

"Why...why you didn't dodge it when you were capable of?" - The voice nearly inaudible under your breath with the gaze downcast while Imbibitor Lunae remains silent with his solemn expression.

"If you dare not, I will lend you my strength." - Dan Feng abruptly grabs the conceptual weapon to stab it through. Flabbergasting at his decision, you pull back the blade instinctively, making the dripping blood from his hand follow the line to stagnate at your hilt. Finally, you unsummon the sword when you see a scarlet circle blooms on his attire.

Kneeling on the ground, you blankly stare into the hollow voidness, and so does the High Elder, but he crunches down to pull you into an embrace. Biting your lips to prevent the honest desires from cascading like a waterfall, you want to resume staying by his side, and you also want to continue waking up by his side.

"Your mission has ended for a long time, Bai Lin." - Dan Feng softly whispers behind and pats your head, his voice soothing the aching heart. It is a mystery why his hugging feels so gentle even after your death match. Although you are soon aware that this moment will come, tears compete to fall out of your eyes corners. An igniting sensation besieges the bridge nose when you helplessly cry on his shoulder.

"Feng...please kill me or hand me over to the Yaoqing." - You weakly vocalize after a long serenity. Because life is sometimes tragic, we decide to sacrifice for something better. However, there are still shortcomings among his paragon virtues, and stubbornness is honorably one of them.

"...You will die if you don't."

"A double coffin doesn't sound that bad."

"Fool."

Ah, life is sometimes tragic.

#honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #dan feng x reader #dan feng x you #hsr dan feng #hsr dan feng x reader #dan feng fanfic

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genshinemblem564 · 5 months

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Sagau: A god's closure + world building

World building, possibly, it's here if I need it

Characters: Hu Tao

This came about from a journey to the "border" with Hu Tao. As an immortal being who grew up as a mortal, your own mortality, or lack thereof, began to weigh on you. When you finally reached your destination, you and Hu Tao were surprised to find a massive gate where you distinctly remember there wasn't one, and in front of it stood a hulking being which resembled an Anubis.

"Anubis": Ah, your grace. To what does this watcher of souls owe your visit? Ah, but forgive me, your memory is not fully intact, so I imagine you must have many questions.

Warden: I am a being known as a "Warden" as I am a protector of the kind and good willed souls that pass through here, while making sure the evil spirits remain trapped in their prison. This gate you see is the gate to the after life. You may note that it was not here upon your last visit, both it and I were revealed by your desire and divine power. Now may I ask, what is your desire?

You shake yourself from your shocked state and state the purpose of your journey.

(Y/N): I-I wish to know, can I visit my friends once they're "gone"? I may be immortal, but I was raised as a mortal, so bonds come to me much easier than they do the archons and other immortal beings.

Warden: I see. Well, to answer your question, yes, you may visit the afterlife whenever you like .

You breathe a sigh of relief as the weight that had been on you the entire journey here finally lifted.

Hu Tao: Oooh, hey, big fella, would you mind describing the afterlife a bit? I'm just "dying" to know more about it.

(Y/N): I'm also rather curious.

Warden: Very well. The afterlife has gone by many names, you may choose to call it whichever you like, but it serves as both paradise and prison. You may recall I said I am "a" warden, there many more of my kin beyond this gate. This place was made by you in your past life to be a paradise to all, and that meant making it a prison for others, and I must say your past self understood mortals well, as there are many aspects to this ever expanding plane. First, I should explain that this gate's destination changes depending on your soul. Good and neutral souls enter a serenity inducing room where servants attempt to lift the weight of their past life, and just beside that is a therapy center as some spirits are more tormented than others. Meanwhile, evil souls are brought straight to the prison, where they are kept until further notice.

(Y/N): Sorry to interrupt, but what is a neutral soul?

Warden: Hmm. I suppose you would say they are those who mind their business, or perhaps they are broken souls who could have done more if life had provided better circumstances. In short, while these souls are not "good" by some standards, they hold no malice within then. Thus, they are neutral. Pranksters, such as your guide here, are also labeled under this category, while good at heart, they are still trouble makers disturbing the peace and thus require disciplinary action should their pranks get out of hand.

You nod and smile in acceptance to this answer, feeling relieved for all of the broken people you've heard of. Hu Tao kind of huffed as if she thought he was describing her.

Warden: On the note of broken souls, there is also a rehabilitation wing of the prison per your command. In your words, "Evil is a disease. Those who are born with it may be beyond saving, but those infected by it are curable with proper treatment." So far, these words have proven true. Many a Rotten soul has been cleansed of malice and given freedom from their torment. Speaking of the prison, the only other thing of note is that it is ever changing in size to house the ever changing number of inmates, but this is true of all aspects of this realm. Now, onto the more pleasant aspects of the afterlife. As stated before, your past self understood mortals well and constructed many districts, with the souls making new ones with each generation. The first is the obvious housing district where the souls live or rather have more personal family time as, if you wish to be technical, no one "lives" here.

You and Hu Tao chuckle a little at his little joke.

Warden: Second, there are the working districts as, surprisingly, many souls find satisfaction in hard work. These souls do jobs such as farming, cooking, many different types of artistry, engineering, construction, smithing, and sales despite there not being a currency here. These districts include the market, the entertainment district where concerts and plays are held, the foundry where all metal is worked into a new shape where it is promptly sent to either the workshop where it is used as machine parts, or the ones made into weapons will be sent to the coloseum where the souls who yearn for battle can relive their glory and have crowds of adoring fans cheer them on for it, and then there are the self explanatory farmlands and restaurants.

(Y/N): That's, um, a lot.

Warden: Quite, and there's still more. There are also the springs and gardens for those seeking a moment of peace, the banquet hall often used by the warrior spirits after a thrilling match as they revel in each other's glory, then there is the central plaza which the souls have taken to calling Festival Street as all of the realms festivities are held there, the archives where those who seek to learn can go to hone their craft. Also, since many people seem to ask, yes, the souls of animals are sent to paradise as, while a lot of animals do kill, it is most often during a hunt or defense, and they are not all malicious. Pets will often wait outside this gate for their owner or one of them if they had multiple, wild and farm animals are led to separate biomes that are suited to them. These biomes are also popular spots to take a trip. Ahem, sorry, I'm just so used to being interrupted by that question that going so long without answering it felt weird. Anyway, back on topic, there is also the museum, along with the archives it is used to preserve the truth of this world's history, not the glorified mess they teach in schools. There are many more human desires that I can list districts and buildings for, but I feel you and your friend would like to make it home before the end of the season, so this will be the last of what I say provided you don't have anymore questions. It may not surprise you that many of the souls within this realm are quite religious, so much so that there is a statue of you, er, your former self in the central plaza, with many smaller shrines to you and other deities scattered throughout the numerous districts.

Hu Tao thanks the warden before turning to leave.

(Y/N): Just one more question, I promise this will be quick. As I've stated before, immotality can be costly on one's soul. This holds true even to those born with it. My question is, would I be able to give others the ability to visit?

Warden: If that is what you desire. I take it this means I will be seeing a few of the archons soon?

You nod and thank him for his time before finally leaving with an extra spring in your step. Once outside, Hu Tao stretches rather loudly.

Hu Tao: Mmmmh. Man, that took forever, but I think we both got something out of that. You got peace of mind and i got a new appreciation for my work.

(Y/N): A "new" appreciation? You enjoyed your work well enough before, I dread to think of what you'll do now.

Hu Tao: Oh you. Don't some archons to visit?

(Y/N): Maybe later, we were in there for quite a while, and all that listening made me rather hungry.

Hu Tao was about to comment before her stomach growled, causing you both to laugh as you made your way back to the harbor.

___________________________________________

Well, that was a massive info dump, definitely longer than I anticipated. I haven't seen anyone tackle the subject of the reader's lack of mortality, and the idea of a creator who can willingly traverse both the realms of living and dead has been rotting my brain, I also wanted the ability to give the archons a bit of closure, at least the ones who lost someone dear to them. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that rather lengthy info dump

#genshin impact #sagau #sagau headcanons #sagau imagines #sagau brainrot

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thepsychewrites · 1 year

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The Complexities of a Black Hole — Pt. Two

A Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Series

Summary: You and Bucky leave for Wakanda, only he doesn’t know you’ve tagged along.

Warnings: This series and my entire blog is 18+ ONLY. MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. Frequent use of heavy and descriptive language. Mentions of sedation and anxiety drugs, brief/vague mention of a needle, brief mention of blood and violence, self deprecating thoughts, allusions to depression, angst, fluff, a tired and hangry Bucky (yes it needs a warning).

Word Count: 4K

A/N: GUESS WHAT TIME IT IS?? TCOABH TIME!! Yes, I’m aware I suck and this is a few days behind schedule BUT I’ve been adjusting to some new meds this week and I’ve been getting so much done (including prepping for my uni finals) that posting this was at the very back of my mind all week :,) BUT ITS HERE, and I’m excited for y’all to read this part <3 ENJOY BABES🫶🏼😚

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Wakanda.

Fifteen minutes ago you had never even heard of the place, but now the word rattled around in your brain, pestering you with each passing second.

Wakanda.

A concealed nation hidden deep between the vast mountain ranges and lush forests of eastern Africa, and home to the most scientifically advanced technologies the world had ever known. It was a place of serenity and hope, a glimpse into a glorious future. From what T’Challa, the man in the burgundy outfit, had said of it, Wakanda was a place that could heal even the most damaged of souls. A place of permanent renewal.

A place to start over.

They want to take Bucky to Wakanda.

Despite the method being meticulous and requiring careful execution, T’Challa described a way to rid Bucky’s head of the words that plagued him. The words that sent him on a rampage. The words that made him fight a war that could never be won.

There was just one stipulation.

Bucky would have to live in Wakanda for the time being.

T’Challa couldn’t give an estimate on the exact length of the stay, saying it might only take weeks, or if the treatment didn’t work as planned, possibly even months or as long as a year. There was an isolation period Bucky would have to endure first, the details of that part vaguely stated. A look crossed Steve’s face at the mention of it, somewhere between apprehension and uncertainty, but he would have to lock away his doubts for now. They’d have time to resurface if things went south.

You couldn’t bear the idea of going months without seeing Bucky, the thought alone making your stomach churn. He’s been your closest friend since joining the team… the person you’ve spent so much time with, shared so many memories with. It would be unbearable. You knew it would be for the best, Bucky needed help. But it didn’t make the idea any more tolerable.

To add onto that hurt — Bucky was refusing to see you. He had apparently been awake for a few hours now, only allowing Dr. Cho and Steve to be around him. It’s nothing to do with you, Steve said during one of the many times he came back to check up on you, he just needs time.

Now, standing a few yards away, Steve and T’Challa quietly discussed the process of moving Bucky to Wakanda. The less-than-subtle glances both men were sending to where you sat didn’t go unnoticed. You were sure they could feel the anxiety radiating from you, the wringing of your hands and the bounce of your legs giving it away completely. But each time they looked over at you it made that feeling grow tenfold. Were they talking about you? Were they getting annoyed at your incessant stare on their backs? Did they think you were eavesdropping?

Finally, the quick glances turned into full on eye contact from Steve, T’Challa patting his shoulder before swiftly departing, walking back toward the center of the Compound. Steve waited to speak until he sat down beside you, a comforting hand landing on your knee.

“He thinks this could really work.” Steve started, his focus trailing to your overly-bitten bottom lip. “But… there’s something else.”

You perked up at his words, brows knitted in confusion. “What is it?”

“T’Challa thinks it could be beneficial for Bucky to have a friend there with him. A familiar face.” Steve was treading lightly, unsure of how to ask a favor of this caliber. “Someone to help so he doesn’t get so… lonely.” He released a heavy sigh, looking right into your eyes. “When Bucky first got here… he followed me around like a lost puppy. Where I went, Bucky went. What I did, Bucky did. It took him weeks to finally feel safe enough to sleep in his own room. I don’t want him to feel abandoned again. And I would go, or have Sam go, but…”

“You have a lot going on here.” You finished for him, understanding where he was coming from. Steve was constantly needed, and even if he didn’t want to admit it, he was the glue to this team. If he were to leave to keep Bucky company, the sturdy structure he had built around this place would surely crumble.

Steve found both of your hands, pulling them into your lap and closing them in on his large ones. “I think you should go to Wakanda with him.” He finally blurted out. “T’Challa said his sister would be ecstatic to have someone so versed in astrophysics around. Plus, I think Bucky would much prefer to have you tag along than Sam or myself.”

His volume lowered to a whisper. “He seems to have grown pretty fond of you. I can’t remember a time I’ve ever seen Buck so… at ease around someone else.”

Mentally cursing at how right Steve was, you hoped he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks from his statement. It was evident there was another implicative remark lingering on his tongue, but he slowly closed his mouth before it could spring free.

Were the feelings you harbored so deep in your soul for one of your closest friends that obvious to everyone else? Maybe it was for the best that Steve stopped while he was ahead, because should he have let the words come to fruition, there’d be no hiding from the truth.

Because how could you blatantly deny the fact that you felt something more for Bucky? You’d walk to the edge of the universe and back for the man, so of course you’d stay with him in Wakanda. Time wasn’t a factor. Whether it took thirty days or thirty years, you’d go if asked. And this wasn’t something you were willing to pass up.

“You don’t think he’ll be mad if I come along? I mean… he isn’t really up to talking to me now. You know better than anyone how he gets about this stuff. Bucky’s always worried about people seeing him in a bad light, and I don’t want him to be upset with me.”

“Can I tell you a little secret?” Steve leaned in close as if he was relaying exclusive information. “Bucky could never be upset with you. You said it yourself, I know him better than most. So believe me when I say that he’d never hold anything against you.” His eyes caught yours in a sincere look. “You should go with him.”

You took a second to breathe, trying to digest all of this chaos at once. It was making your head spin, but it was obvious what your decision would be.

“When do we leave?”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Two hours later you left your bedroom, most of your belongings stuffed in three large suitcases and one duffel bag. You decided to leave behind most of your unnecessary trinkets and memorabilia, only bringing along the most important, top priority things… if a stuffed animal lion and your endless amount of journals counted as top priority. Finding your way to the hangar of the Compound, your stomach lurched at the reminder of events that occurred only hours prior. Visions of Bucky being dragged through, his head hanging down and blood dripping from his sides. It seemed like an absurd renaissance painting you’d see in the Louvre, taking your time to gasp and stare at its gruesomeness. Yet you were certain you would never be able to rid your mind of that memory.

Two gigantic aircrafts were stationed in the hangar, a woman standing outside of each, their heads shaved and their chins held high. Both were holding spears, a stoic expression on their face. Steve was talking to Sam outside the smaller of the two aircrafts, their conversation cutting off as you neared.

“Heard you were leavin’ too, Y/n.” Sam said as he wrapped his arms around you, swaying a bit as he held you close. He always gave the best hugs, besides Bucky of course, something you had realized very early on in your time with the team. “Wanted to see you off.” With a quick squeeze he let go, looking down at you with glossy eyes. The two of you had grown quite close in the last few months, so he wasn’t just losing Bucky for the time being, but you as well.

To quell your own tears, you playfully bumped his shoulder with your fist. “You better come and visit, Sammy. You know I can’t go that long without seeing your annoying face.”

That lightened the mood, both Sam and Steve laughing at your words. “I’ll come see you as soon as I’m allowed.” He assured.

The air seemed to grow thick as you looked at Steve, his head hanging low but his eyes trained on you. “You ready?”

Truthfully, no, you weren’t ready to leave your home behind. Sure, you had said your goodbyes to the rest of your friends and team earlier, and sure you had most of your things packed for this departure. But there never comes a time in life when you’re truly ready for anything, right?

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

With one hand on your back and his other reaching for the handle of your largest suitcase, he led you onto one of the jets, another woman stationed inside with her back to you. The craft was astonishingly advanced, fitted with a dark clean and sleek interior, making Stark’s quinjets look puny and outdated in comparison.

You could feel the soft humming of the jet rumbling beneath your shoes, the actual sound far too quiet to register in your ears. The inside was glowing with soft hues of orange and blue, strips of soft light wrapping around the center of the jet where plush seats stuck out. There was just enough light to see your way around, but not enough to strain your eyes. Dark wood paneling decorated the interior, carved out from a tree probably native to Wakanda, as you couldn’t place the grain elsewhere. The woman standing inside turned to you and introduced herself as Nakia, a friend of T’Challa’s. You could tell she was curious, her eyes studying you intensely. Her head was covered in a green print scarf, a beaded necklace holding the same shades of emerald laying flat against the bottom of her neck. She, along with the woman who stood guard outside, Okoye, as she was soon introduced, would be the ones taking you to Wakanda.

Okoye smelled of orchids, her presence warm and comforting. Tattoos marked her shaved scalp, the dark lines curving over her head in an intricate pattern. You quickly learned she was the general for Wakanda’s elite group of royal warrior guards, the Dora Milaje, her status most likely portrayed within the tattoo. She wore numerous gold bands around her neck, the precious metal dripping down further in platings that covered her shoulders and arms. They spoke briefly of their home, their words continuing to fill you with hope, your body feeling lighter and lighter by the second.

Steve said a quick goodbye, as he would be leaving on the other aircraft with a sedated Bucky, T’Challa, and another royal guard. The flight to Wakanda would only take a few hours, Nakia relayed, as the jet was apparently able to travel at incredibly high speeds. You pondered over the logistics, but there were many things in life that existed and were plausible far beyond your comprehension, so you ultimately let that thought fade out as you took a seat near the cockpit.

“So your friend,” Nakia broke the short bout of silence as Okoye got comfortable in the pilot chair, the jet slowly starting to move forward. “How long have you known him?” She didn’t have to name Bucky for you to know that’s who she was referring to.

“About eight months now. Kinda seems like a lifetime, though.” You laughed softly, wringing your hands together as they sat tense in your lap. You wished more than anything you could see him right about now, knowing he was freaking out internally about this whole fiasco. Bucky hated when everyone’s attention was turned on him, even the good kind of attention. He always felt scrutinized under people’s heavy glares, and despite being over six feet tall and possessing a body close to that of Hercules, he had become a master at making himself look small and non-threatening during times like this. But just as a fully grown saint bernard cannot shrink to the size of a chihuahua, Bucky could only do so much to hide himself away from the judgment the world pressed upon him.

“He must mean a great deal to you if you’re coming all the way to Wakanda for him.” Nakia remarked. From your peripheral, you noticed Okoye shaking her head at Nakia’s words. She was a curious woman indeed.

But, as much as you wanted to deny what she was insinuating, you couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “He’s one of my best friends. I couldn’t not come, you know? Bucky has a long road ahead of him, and I want to be there to help however I can.”

“You are a good friend. I am sure he will be thankful that you are accompanying him.” Okoye interjected, her gaze steady and facing the open sky. She let her words settle before speaking again. “We will reach home by nightfall. Try to get some sleep, both of you.”

Okoye was right. You were creeping on two days with no sleep, a drowsiness deeply settled in your bones from the lack of shut eye. Watching Nakia as she laid out across the seats opposite of you, you sent her a tight lipped smile before resting your head against the wall. You bent your knees close to your chest, your hands sandwiched between, and let the promises of Wakanda lull you to sleep.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

There was a cruelness that Bucky’s mind possessed, and recently its main goal was to taunt him at every turn.

He was the elephant in the room. The burden those around him had to help carry. The man that deserves no sympathy.

So why did they want to help him now? After he relapsed again and nearly tore his two friends to shreds? His arm was gone, the appendage he had come to resent – a weapon given to him, revealed as if it were a birthday gift… as if it were something he should be thankful for. Bucky was only thankful when it was forcefully ripped from his shoulder, the pain amounting to nothing compared to the relief that filled him when he looked over to see it dangling in Steve’s hands. Even if that relief was short-lived.

Now all he could feel was dread.

His body was feather-light, having been pumped with anxiety medication to keep his restlessness at bay. On the other hand, his eyes were practically nailed shut, the meds forcing him to sleep off the events of the last thirty six hours.

But even as he floated in and out of reality and a dark, dreamless state, the dread that clung to his limbs weighed him down. He was basically a brick being cemented into place. Bucky didn’t even realize that the stealthy aircraft carrying him like precious exotic cargo to Wakanda had landed, too drugged out to feel more than a distant beating of what he could only assume was his half-dead heart.

It was only when he heard the familiar rumble of Steve’s voice did he slightly perk up from his hunched over state.

“Buck? Buck…” Steve slowly called for the umpteenth time, his arm stretched out and gently patting Bucky’s back. “Bucky, we’re here.”

A pinhole of white flooded into Bucky’s pupils, the dim lighting of the jet's interior still too much for Bucky to adjust to. His hand automatically attempted to shield the source, but the pinhole only grew wider. It took a second, but once it clicked that Bucky was trying to block the light with his left hand and not his still-in-tact right, his face burned with embarrassment. Too groggy from the drugs, he opted to give up, blindly relying on Steve to help him sit upright and stand, the entirety of his weight pushed into Steve’s side as they stumbled off the aircraft.

Wakandan air smelled sweet in the spring. Like the runny nectar of a honeysuckle blossom, it was almost tangible, the sweetness. It’s the first thing Bucky noticed as his feet hit flat, solid ground. Socks — they had literally left Bucky in only a thick pair of black wool socks, his toes digging into the smooth, frictionless floor below him to stabilize his movements. A babbling river rushed by somewhere in the far distance, his senses heightened as his eyes were still slammed shut.

In a few seconds Bucky had gone from leaning against Steve to sitting down in a cushioned chair, his body no longer weighing heavy on his bones. He didn’t like this, incoherently muttering, “I can walk,” as his head lulled to the side before he jerked it upright. “Stop it — Steve stop, m’fine… lemme walk.” Bucky snapped impatiently, knowing it was Steve pushing him from behind in whatever wheelchair they shoved him in. Bucky thought he had protested a bit more, but he could feel his teeth scraping against one another as he grinded them together in his mouth while they entered an elevator of some sort.

Steve was talking to someone in the elevator, probably T’Challa, Bucky thought, as his hearing was still muddled and his brain foggy. He had quickly ditched the attempt to open his eyes fully, settling for the dull shadows he could see behind his eyelids instead.

At the faint ding of an elevator bell, some commotion started, a few people came to ask Steve mindless questions, and the sterile smell of a laboratory invaded Bucky’s nose. He didn’t notice being moved from the wheelchair, nor being laid in an observation bed of some sort. At one point he swore he felt a few pricks and prods across his forearm and hand, but he gave it little thought as he swam in and out of consciousness.

This time the sleep he fell into wasn’t dark and desolate like before. He wasn’t floating in empty space. This time he heard a voice soothing his nerves, a sweet voice of something familiar. A voice that belonged to an angel, perhaps, something gentle and reassuring, cooing at him from nearby. An image was conjured before him, something pulled right from his memories, as he had been there before. He wasn’t alone in some tiny laboratory bed, no. Bucky was back in your room at the Compound, the flickering scenes of The Princess Bride playing on in the back as you laid against his side, commanding his attention whether you realized it or not. Never once in the last seventy years had Bucky dreamt of something so pleasant, so calm. He wanted to stay here forever, in your room, on top of your bedsheets, right next to you. So, he stayed. Bucky stayed in that memory for as long as he could hold onto it.

When he finally woke a few hours later, Bucky swore he could smell your perfume as if it was lingering in the air around him still.

“Morning pal.” Bucky heard from outside the room he was in.

He quickly sat up at the sound of Steve’s voice, carefully scanning around the room and taking in his surroundings.

Plain white walls. A full size bed pushed into the corner where he currently laid, a blue and red quilted blanket strewn overtop of him. A door leading to a small bathroom in the suite was to his right. A quaint desk was pushed against the wall opposite his bed, a stack of books, a leather bound journal, some stationary, boxes of puzzles, a small Philco tabletop radio, and a lamp organized on it. One window jutting out next to the bed directed Bucky to a stunning view of the Wakandan landscape and the nature that lies beyond, and one long rectangular window was placed in the wall that faced the hallway of the laboratory. One door that led out was directly in front of the bed a few feet away, a small window carved near its top and an opening at its bottom.

Food, Bucky thought, That’s what it’s for. His stomach rumbled at the reminder of the calories he had not eaten in God knows how long.

Bucky glanced back toward the faint voice, finally seeing Steve standing stoic outside the window near the door, his hands shoved in the tight pockets of his jeans. “How are you feeling?” Steve asked, his expression never wavering.

“Tired.” Bucky answered, a short truth being all he could manage for the time being. He tried to gather himself a little more, but Steve caught his attention once again.

“Are you hungry?”

Bucky’s head picked up, his eyes set on Steve’s. “Starving.” He called. Bucky watched as Steve reached down, light pouring in from the opening at the bottom of his door as a tray of food slid across the floor toward the bed. Bucky perked up at once, throwing the quit to the side as he stood up for the first time in hours. He swayed slightly, gaining some stability as the smell of the food penetrated his senses. He grabbed the tray from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, inspecting it.

A large, still sizzling steak was cut into bite sized pieces, paired with steaming mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables that gathered along the side of the plate. Also on the tray was a cup of applesauce, two oranges, and a bottle of water. Bucky promptly dug in, using the plastic utensils to shovel the food in his mouth. Through his bites he kept glancing at Steve, waiting for something else to come from the man. But, being as considerate as he was, Steve stood in silence and waited for Bucky to finish his meal.

Bucky chewed down the last of the green veggies, sipping his water quickly before wiping his lips off with the sleeve of his shirt. “So, what’s my sentence?” He asked jokingly, but still curious to how long they wanted to keep him locked away in this room to observe him.

“Fourteen days, Buck. Try to think of it as a break… a short vacation if you will.” Steve tried to reason.

“Oh, yeah. All the best vacations are spent locked indoors being watched like a hawk twenty-four-seven for two weeks straight.” Bucky huffed, turning his head to gaze outside the window. “But at least I got the best view in town.” The jungle outside vibrated with life, a low mist flowing through the tall trees, large soaring birds squawking in the distance.

“If this is what they think is best, I’ll get through it. I want these words out of my head… for good.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, taking in Steve’s large frame as he peered in at Bucky like he was looking at a sickly dog at the pound.

Steve nodded. “You’ll get through it. You’ve gotten through worse.”

The two men shared a comfortable silence. But another sentence lingered on Steve’s tongue. He watched in as Bucky dropped his head, the stump that was left of his silver arm laying stiff against his side.

Maybe Steve should keep this to himself, maybe it was better if Bucky didn’t know.

“Also,” Shit – the word slipped out of Steve’s mouth too quickly to swallow it back down.

When Steve refrained from saying more, Bucky got impatient.

“What is it, punk?”

Steve pushed his hands further into his pockets. “I uh,” He cleared his throat next, attempting to buy time or find something rather unimportant to say instead.

Bucky raised his brows, his heart beginning to pound louder from this odd behavior. Steve had to spill.

“I didn’t come alone.”

PART TWO PLAYLIST

🌿Songs that inspired this series🌿

— Spiriteaux

By Tony Anderson

— Welcome to the Jungle

By Novo Amor

— In Between Breaths

By SYML

— Still

By Ola Gjelio

I recommend listening to the songs in order as shown above. A master playlist will be linked at the end of the series.

Spotify Link to Chapter Two Playlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series #the complexities of a black hole #tcoabh #tcoabh series #thepsychewrites

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serenitymaliburehabcenter · 9 months

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ihathbenobiwankenobied · 1 year

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rip skull (the clone and obi-wan’s)

Part Eleven of 212th Medic Skull Has Had Enough on ao3

Summary:

Obi-Wan is concussed, it’s Cody’s fault, and Skull doesn’t have time for this banthashit.

(Or, another follow-up to Skull's infamous run-in with the 212th's newest secret couple. This time, Obi-Wan get's a concussion at a party and as a result, the rest of the 212th gets in on the secret)

Word Count: 4,000 (exactly)

Skull received the text comm message at two in the morning from Waxer. He was awake– of course– because he couldn’t sleep knowing that he was going to be called anyway. That’s what usually happened when the 212th were involved.

It had been decided by Waxer and Boil’s one collective brain cell that there would be a celebration in the Negotiator’s refectory to celebrate the destruction of the droid factory on Corellia. It was the same factory where Skywalker had destroyed the kriffing Sith artifact that had brought Kenobi to his knees, so Skull hadn’t been opposed to its disintegration.

However, he wasn’t exactly on board with a planned celebration that Waxer said would involve– getting karking wasted– and that was it.

Skull wasn’t exactly the– getting karking wasted– type, so he had respectfully passed. Regardless, he knew as well as anyone, where alcohol was involved, someone would get injured and at least one medic would have to be in their right mind if that happened.

So, Skull took to his quarters and set about reading an article he had discovered on a newly developed form of bacta treatment.

Hours later, the first comm came in.

General. Come get.

Skull’s eyebrows rose as he eyed the message attempting to decipher it before he sent a response. It either was an attempt to trick him into going to the party, or a very poor attempt at describing an injury.

What? Why?

He settled on the question, hoping he would get a response before he started pulling on clothes. To his surprise, within seconds, a response appeared.

Can you get him? Think Cody broke him.

Skull audibly groaned and shuffled underneath his sheets where he had settled in bed for the evening.

Fine. Get him sitting or something, please.

Skull sent his response and pulled on a set of blacks and some boots. He took his medkit from where he had tucked it by the door, and began the fairly long walk from the medical wing down to the refectory.

The roar of music and men yelling could be heard from far down the long hallway, reminding Skull once again how much he enjoyed the serene silence his own quarters had to offer. He hoped he would only have to deal with it for a few minutes, probably drag Kenobi back to his quarters to sleep off the alcohol.

Turning the corner into the refectory, Skull frowned. The room was dark except for the glow of red and orange lights that had been strung around the room. Pounding music that Skull could feel deep in his chest filled the room guiding the movements of many of the vode where they swayed in the center of the makeshift dance floor.

He peered around the dark room, ignoring the odd comment about how he finally decided to show up, and tried to find the General. That failing, he looked for Waxer instead, finding him across the room standing beside a long table that was filled with the various spoils of the 212th’s missions to different planets and cities.

Waxer laughed loudly, breaking away from the group that surrounded him, and stumbled toward Skull with a sloshing Trandoshan ale in hand.

“Skully!”

Yeah, he was wasted. Waxer knew Skull would handcuff him to his medical bed if he used that name on any ordinary occasion.

Skull took a step back, shielding his blacks from the splashes of ale that slid over sides, “Woah, how about you just– stand still.”

Waxer obliged for the most part, save for swaying where he stood, giddy smile spread across his face. “Sorry.” He slurred out and Skull held back another sigh.

“Where’s the General?” He asked pointedly, still eyeing the perimeter of the room for a sign of him.

“He’s right over–” Waxer pointed toward the far side of the room where several tables had been pushed against the wall, then frowned. The General wasn’t there. “Or, um, he used to be there?”

Skull rubbed a hand over his forehead, cursing himself for not just coming to keep an eye on things anyway; it would probably have made his life easier.

“Do you think he left? Was anyone with him?” Skull asked, doing a final sweep of the space and finding that the General was not, in fact, in the refectory.

“I don’t know… Cody?” Waxer shrugged, frowned, and waved his arm toward the door. “Guess someone better find him.”

“Amazing train of thought, Waxer.” Skull grumbled and turned on his heel.

He headed in the direction of Kenobi’s quarters figuring it was a good start. Though he hadn’t seen the General, much less Cody, drunk before, he figured that neither would let themselves get drunk enough they weren’t semi-aware. Hopefully, that meant one of them had made the rational decision to get to their quarters.

Skull walked for some time, listening for any chatter in the halls and checking in empty rooms to no avail. He was close to giving up, and instead heading in the direction of Cody’s quarters instead when he heard a loud thump, and an equally loud groan from up ahead.

Raising an eyebrow, Skull headed in that direction, preparing himself for an inevitable sight.

He rounded the corner and nearly tripped over something on the floor before he steadied himself and took a step back.

On the floor, General Kenobi sat with his back pinned to the wall, knees raised to his chest, and head hanging downward. Beside him, Cody sat with an arm extended, tissue in hand. He was pressing the tissue against a bloody gash that grazed the side of Obi-Wan’s forehead.

“Skull?” Cody murmured, eyes hazy when he looked up at Skull.

“Yeah that’s me. What the hell happened?” He crouched down, placing his kit on the floor.

Obi-Wan didn’t move, just kept his head lowered between his knees. Skull opened his kit, already reaching for gauze to replace the tissue.

“Um–” Cody averted his eyes, then closed them, “I don’t think I wanna say.” The words were slurred out, indicating Cody had more to drink than he usually did. Skull was confused by the answer.

“Why not?” He asked, then gently tapped on Kenobi’s shoulder, earning a groan from the man.

“Just– don’t want to say.” Cody answered in a whisper, head lolling to the side and eyes closing. Cody was tired– clearly– and Skull was beginning to think he wouldn’t be useful at all when it came to extracting information. Instead, he decided to focus his attention on Kenobi.

“Cody, can you hold this against his head instead?” He held out the gauze. Cody took it and and shakily placed it against the still mildly bleeding wound. Skull wasn’t worried, it looked like it was beginning to clot, but before he could use bacta, it needed to stop. “And Sir, can you look at me?”

Skull touched Obi-Wan’s shoulder again with a gentle hand, trying to coax him to look up.

Another groan.

Skull waited a moment, contemplating trying to press his hand underneath the General’s chin to pull his head upward, but Kenobi very slowly began to raise his head.

Skull wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t for the General to look so… confused?

“Erm– Skull?” Kenobi asked innocently, almost like he had not heard the conversation Skull and Cody had been having over his head for several minutes. He was squinting, not quite looking at Skull’s eyes. Blurry vision, Skull made a mental note.

“Yes. Sir, how are you feeling? You have quite the gash there.” Skull pointed toward the gash where Cody still held the gauze. Skull was sure it was done bleeding, but if it was keeping Cody occupied for the time being, he wasn’t going to tell him to stop.

“...not good.” Kenobi answered after a long pause, and shifted uncomfortably.

Great. Wonderful detailed description Kenobi.

Skull sighed, “In what way, General?” He hoped whatever effect the alcohol was having on the conversation wasn’t going to render Kenobi as useless as Cody had been.

“Don’t feel good,” Kenobi repeated, then, without warning, turned away from Cody and vomited just a few inches away from Skull’s shoes.

Oh kriffing hells.

Skull held his breath for a second waiting for a second retch, but thankfully, it didn’t come and Kenobi sat back up slightly. Cody looked on with something like confusion, sympathy, and disgust written on his face. Skull knew the Commander didn’t have a particularly high tolerance for watching others vomit.

“Cody, go over there and comm a janitor.” Skull demanded, pointing down the hall. Cody didn’t move for a moment, then seemed to decide getting away from the alcoholic smelling vomit was a better idea.

With him out of the way, Skull pulled out the extra disposable towels he kept in his medkit and placed a few over top of the puddle and used another to wipe Kenobi’s lips off. Usually he would hand it over to the General himself, but it didn’t seem like Kenobi was very much in control of his own movements.

Well, at least he knew one of the symptoms included in not feeling good.

Making quick work with the tube of bacta and a small bandage, Skull covered the gash on the side of Kenobi’s head.

“Alright, General. Other than nausea, why else don’t you feel good? What hurts?” He simplified the question, hoping a direct answer might result.

“Just–” Kenobi cleared his throat, and screwed his eyes shut, “It’s bright.” He settled on after a moment. “Head hurts. ”

“Did you hit your head? Is that how you got that?” Skull pointed at the gash and Kenobi looked confused.

“What?” He reached up and touched his head, “Oh.”

“Did you hit your head?” Skull asked again and Kenobi looked no less confused, so Skull turned toward Cody who now stood looming over the two of them, already done with comming the janitor. “Cody– did he hit his head pretty hard?” Skull repeated to the Commander.

“Yes.” Finally, a straight answer.

Skull had already made the mental conclusion that what he was most likely looking at was a concussion, but it helped to have an explanation for how it happened.

“How hard? And against what?” Cody swayed on his feet and stared at Skull with a wide-eyed, unblinking expression.

“Um– yes hard.” Skull looked at him expectantly, and cleared his own throat.

“Alright,” Skull began when Cody offered no further explanation; he was going to have to ask again once they had gotten the General back to his quarters and comfortable before he tried to ask again, “Help me get him up, then. We need to get him laying down before I head back to the medbay for a stretcher.”

Cody’s eyes somehow got even wider, “A stretcher?” He slurred out.

“Yes– seems he’s got a concussion. I’ll need to run a scan on him to see if there is any bleeding in his brain.”

“He’s not bleeding anymore.” Cody said. Skull ran a palm over his face and ignored the drunk idiocy that rolled out of Cody’s mouth. Really, he wasn’t in the mood.

“Just– help me.” Skull demanded, and hooked a hand under Obi-Wan’s armpit, coercing Cody into doing the same.

Obi-Wan immediately scrunched his eyes closed, a slight whimper emerging from him as soon as they lifted him into a standing position. “Feeling alright, Sir?” Skull asked, though he knew the answer was probably no.

“Dizzy.” Kenobi answered and kept his eyes shut. “Need’a sit.” His words came out slowly, and he attempted to bat away Skull’s arm where it was hooked over his shoulders.

“Sorry, Sir, but we need to get you to your quarters. Just a short walk away.” Skull hated to have to make him walk, but he wasn’t about to leave the drunk and concussed General on the hallway floor for anyone to see.

In Kenobi’s own words, that would be rather undignified.

So, Skull and Cody pulled him towards his rooms. The General barely reacted, his feet unsteady beneath him as they brought him into his quarters, heading straight for the bed.

Skull helped Kenobi to sit, demanding Cody just sit on the bed and wait for me to get back.

He positioned a trash can between the General’s feet and quickly left to head toward the medbay to retrieve a stretcher. To his surprise, he was able to make it there and back in only twenty minutes, and in another ten, following another round of retching, they were headed toward the medbay.

“Cody– I’m asking again now because in about two hours you definitely won’t tell me– what the kriff happened?” Skull stood with his arms crossed just outside of the room where Obi-Wan was receiving his scan. Skull pointed to a chair when Cody stumbled over his own feet.

Cody sat heavily, an unusually dramatic sigh leaving his lips, “We didn’t mean for it to happen…” Cody muttered, words trailing off.

“I’ll ask Waxer if you won’t say.” Skull threatened when Cody’s sentence did not continue. Skull crossed his arms over his chest and waited with as neutral of an expression as he could manage.

“Fine. Fine.” Cody began with a huff, “You know the tables? The round ones that are–”

“Yes, Cody, I know of the karking tables in the refectory.” Cody blinked rapidly, turned his head to the side, and then continued like Skull had never interrupted.

“I guess we were um– kissing– on top of one.” Cody’s voice was quiet and his eyes were trained on the floor between his feet. Skull could hardly hold in his shock. While a number of the vode in 212th knew that Cody and the General were a couple, many did not; it wasn’t exactly advertised information. Of course, if they had been publicly making out in the refectory, now the whole kriffing 212th knew.

Not-drunk Cody was going to have an absolute fit.

Skull was going to have a fucking field day.

Holding in his laughter and schooling his expression, Skull continued, “And?”

“And Obi-Wan might have… fallen off? Backwards.” While Skull was equally amused with Cody and Kenobi unintentionally outing their relationship, he wasn’t quite as amused with the information of how exactly Kenobi had sustained his concussion.

“You know, Cody, I thought you and Kenobi were a little more responsible than everyone else, but I stand corrected.” Skull said, shaking his head. He watched Cody’s lips sink into a deep frown, eyes screwed shut.

Then, unexpectedly, Cody’s eyes opened again and tears slid down his cheeks rapidly. He sniffled and wiped away the tears with the backs of his hands.

If Skull had been shocked before, he was even more shocked now.

Cody was a weepy drunk.

“Cody, It’s alright.” Skull managed to say, hoping it would soothe his alcohol-addled brain. “It’s not just your fault.”

Skull went to stand next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back. After a couple of minutes, Cody stopped and looked up, frown still written on his face and eyes red, “Is he almost done?” The Commander asked.

“Soon.” Skull answered with a sigh.

It was another twenty minutes before Kenobi’s CT scan was complete and Skull looked over the results the second it finished. He’d set the General up in the nearest room and guided Cody inside to sit with him while he reviewed the results.

To Skull’s relief, there wasn’t any bleeding in the General’s brain. He had been worried by the state of Kenobi in the hallway, but alcohol had certainly contributed to making the concussion seem worse than it was. Regardless, he knew Kenobi was bound to complain about the five days of bedrest that Skull was going to impose on him.

“So no bleeding in the brain, but we will need to talk about care tomorrow morning when you both are sobered up. Now– let me take you back to Kenobi’s quarters.” Skull offered the General a hoverchair and a mask to keep out the brightness of the hallway lights. To Skull’s surprise, he accepted without complaint, other than a disapproving grunt.

The walk was silent for the most part, save for an occasional half-assed question from Cody, and Skull was more than happy to watch the pair settle into the General’s bunk. While it was as disgusting as usual to watch them curled up in each other’s arms, Skull was willing to give them a pass since they weren’t quite aware of how blatant they were being.

Skull grabbed a glass of water for Kenobi from the kitchenette, forced him to drink half of it, inserted a hypo of a light painkiller into his neck, and made an exit with an eye on the clock on his way out.

Skull cursed under his breath and sluggishly made for his rooms, eyes closing for a few seconds here and there as he walked.

Wasting no time, he set an alarm for five hours later and crawled into bed.

Cody felt sick the second his eyes opened. Nausea swelled in his chest as he lurched from the bed, making for the refresher without a second thought.

He emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet the second his knees hit the floor and found that all that came out was a liquidy substance that smelled something like a mix between acid and alcohol.

Right. Alcohol.

Cody groaned, head pulsing as he remembered the events of the night before. He’d had at least three too many, but it wasn’t enough to make him forget everything.

Obi-Wan. The party. The concussion. Skull.

It flooded back with a river of shame. Typically he wouldn’t drink more than two or three beers, and that was if he did drink, but somehow Waxer convinced him to try some Corellian Vodka he’d purchased.

It turned out Corellian Vodka was stronger than other types. Cody mentally reminded himself to murder Waxer the next time he got the opportunity.

Cody stood, nausea somewhat at bay, and hobbled to Obi-Wan’s bunk to find him still fast asleep on his back. He flicked on the light and sat on the edge of the bed, hand crawling up to look underneath the plaster across the side of Obi-Wan’s head.

Beneath it, the skin had mostly healed, but Cody could see the outline of a gash and large red mark that would certainly evolve into a bruise. Cody replaced the bandage and was about to try and find a bottle of painkillers when he heard a gentle knock on the door.

Mind still foggy, he trudged to the door and flung it open. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t Skull who was armed with a medkit and a tray with two to-go cups in it.

“Morning, sunshine.” Skull muttered with false-cheeriness and a smug smile that Cody still hated with a passion. “Going to let me in?”

Cody wished he had the energy to protest, or even slam the door back in Skull’s face, but instead, he stepped aside.

Skull headed straight for the bed and placed the medkit where Cody had been laying before. “I’m not sure how much you remember, but Obi-Wan got a concussion last night.” The medic rifled through the kit, then produced an IV kit and what Cody could tell was a hydration pack.

“I remember.” Cody muttered, his voice more gruff than usual, “And you’re here for what reason?” He said, sitting at the bottom of the bed by Obi-Wan’s feet.

“To give you some instructions for care. He’ll be on bedrest for five days.” Skull said and Cody watched him make quick work of pulling Obi-Wan’s arm out from underneath the covers to fix the IV. Just then, Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open. He immediately squinted, then covered his eyes with his hands.

“Kriff.” Obi-Wan swore, and Cody’s eyebrows rose without his permission; Obi-Wan hardly swore.

In an almost comical repetition of events, Obi-Wan ripped his arm away from Skull and tumbled out of bed on unsteady feet to head toward the refresher.

On any other day, Cody would have followed him there to rub circles onto his back, but this time his own stomach would betray him. Instead, he stayed put and watched Skull shake his head.

“What?” Cody bit out shortly from between his teeth.

“The two of you are going to be the death of me.” Skull said, tone matter-of-fact, then shrugged.

Cody cringed at the sound of Obi-Wan’s own stomach contents being expelled into the toilet.

A minute later, Obi-Wan appeared from the fresher. Underneath his eyes there were dark blue circles, and his face was much paler than usual. He continued to squint, which prompted Skull to flick off the overhead light in exchange for the dim lamp on the bedside table.

“Welcome to the land of the living, Sir.” Skull said, and Obi-Wan grimaced as he settled back into the bed, “To catch you up, you have a concussion, and you’re hung over. Now, Cody, get his tunics off, will you?” Skull continued and he fiddled with something in his medkit again.

Cody did as requested, even as a headache pounded inside of his skull. He was sure whatever Obi-Wan’s head felt like was millions of times worse.

Obi-Wan let out a soft whimper as Cody helped him.

“It’s alright.” Cody whispered in his ear, low enough Skull wouldn’t hear and gently ran a hand through the unruly strands of copper hair on Obi-Wan’s head. Obi-Wan practically melted into his touch and Cody felt bad when he pulled away.

“How are you feeling this morning, Sir?” Skull asked as he fixed the IV in Obi-Wan’s arm and attached the hydration pack to a portable pole he’d produced from his medkit.

“Quite… bad, actually. My head hurts.” Skull snorted softly. Cody watched Obi-Wan take fistfulls of his hair, his breathing uneven and pained.

Skull said something else, something Cody wasn’t paying attention as he tried to work out what had exactly happened to cause the concussion. He racked his brain for what felt like hours, but came up short. He recalled being in the refectory, and surrounded by many drunk brothers, but there was no clear picture of anything that stood out to him.

“Cody?” He heard suddenly, and Skull was looking at him, unblinking.

“Oh– um, sorry.” Cody murmured and cleared his throat when his words continued to come out in a deep grumbled tone.

“I just need you to listen for another moment.” Skull said. “Now– make sure he’s resting and sleeping, and keep him hydrated. I’ve brought you caf and Kenobi a decaffeinated tea to start. He can have one of these hypos each day for three days, then just regular painkillers should do the trick. Also, keep the lights dim or off. No datapads, Kenobi.” Skull handed Cody a plastic bag with the three hypos, “Any questions?”

Cody didn’t say anything, just shook his head, and immediately regretted it when pain spread up his neck.

“Great.” Skull stood and snapped his medkit closed, then briskly headed for the door, “Oh, and one more thing, Cody.”

There was that smug smile again, the one Cody couldn’t stand on a normal day and especially not when a hangover was involved. Cody narrowed his eyes.

“Seeing as you haven’t mentioned it yet, I though maybe I’d enlighten you to how exactly the concussion happened.” Cody’s heart skipped a beat. “You told me last night you and the General were making out in the refectory, on a table, and Kenobi fell off.”

Kriff. Fucking kriff it all.

Skull said the words flatly, like they didn’t shock Cody to his very core.

The whole 212th knew now. Everyone knew.

“Fuck!” Cody loudly groaned into his hands, ignoring the way Obi-Wan winced.

“See you later, boys.” Skull called as the door slid closed behind him.

Fuck, Cody didn’t know who to murder first, Skull or his entire battalion.

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nita-sharma · 2 months

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What is the duration of the retreats at Fazlani Nature’s Nest? Retreat durations vary, ranging from weekend getaways to week-long immersive experiences. Participants can choose the retreat duration that best suits their schedule and preferences.

Are the retreats suitable for beginners in yoga? Yes, the retreats at Fazlani Nature’s Nest cater to individuals of all levels, including beginners in yoga. Experienced instructors provide guidance and support to ensure a fulfilling experience for every participant.

Can women of all ages participate in the retreats? Absolutely, women of all ages are welcome to participate in the retreats at Fazlani Nature’s Nest. Whether you're in your twenties or seventies, there's a retreat program tailored to meet your unique needs and preferences.

Is accommodation provided at the retreat center? Yes, Fazlani Nature’s Nest offers comfortable accommodation options for retreat participants. From cozy cottages to luxurious villas, there are accommodations to suit every preference and budget.

How can I book a retreat at Fazlani Nature’s Nest? Booking a retreat at Fazlani Nature’s Nest is easy and convenient. Simply visit our website or contact our team directly to inquire about availability and make a reservation for your preferred dates.

#women's wellness retreats in india #hormonal balance yoga retreat experience #hormonal rejuvenation retreat #hormonal balance yoga retreat #hormonal balance retreat

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petsgrooming · 3 months

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Tailored Elegance: Top-Tier Car Dog Grooming Experiences in Dubai

Welcome to Cut On Car Pets Grooming, where we go above and beyond to enhance your furry friend's style and health through innovative and convenient Top Dog Grooming Services experiences in Dubai. Immerse your beloved canine in the epitome of Luxury Dog Grooming Services designed exclusively for your pet's comfort and style in the heart of Dubai. Indulge in a World-Class Car Dog Grooming experience that seamlessly combines convenience with unparalleled pet care excellence.

Unearth the Pinnacle of Car Dog Grooming Services in Dubai, meticulously crafted to elevate your furry companion's aesthetic appeal and overall well-being. From personalized brushing sessions to specialized treatments, our mobile grooming oasis ensures that your pet emerges in style, radiating confidence, all from the convenience of your car's location. While our expertise lies in Car Dog Grooming, we extend our exceptional services to cats, rabbits, and birds, ensuring a diverse array of grooming options for your cherished pets in Dubai.

At Cut On Car, your pet's happiness and health take center stage during our Car Dog Grooming Sessions. Upholding the highest standards, we take proactive measures to eliminate fleas and prevent infestations directly at your car's location, transforming grooming into a stress-free affair. Our cutting-edge grooming techniques, featuring innovative solutions such as cold-weather powder or liquid products, guarantee your pet's comfort and cleanliness without the need for a traditional wet shampoo bath during our exclusive Car Dog Grooming Sessions.

Our team of professionals not only excels in grooming but also in pampering your furry companions, providing treats and creating a serene environment during their car dog grooming sessions for an enjoyable experience. Put your trust in our dedicated team, unwaveringly committed to meticulous care, ensuring your pets feel secure and cherished throughout our Mobile Dog Grooming Services in Dubai. Embrace our proactive approach to flea removal and infestation prevention, allowing your pets to unwind and Savor the grooming experience right at your car's location.

#CarDogGrooming #MobilePetGrooming #GroomingDogOnWheels #ExpertPetStyling #TopNotchPetCare #dogGrooming

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abotlipfiller · 7 months

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Enhance Your Smile: The Art of Lip Fillers in Santa Barbara

Introduction

Santa Barbara, known for its stunning beaches and picturesque landscapes, is also a hub for beauty and wellness. When it comes to enhancing your natural beauty, one treatment that's gained popularity is lip filler injections. Lip filler santa barbara are the go-to option for many seeking plumper, more defined lips. In this blog post, we'll explore the world of lip fillers, why Santa Barbara is the ideal place for this treatment, and what to expect from the procedure.

Why Lip Fillers in Santa Barbara?

Santa Barbara has earned a reputation as a beauty destination for a variety of reasons, making it the perfect location for lip filler treatments.

Expertise: The city boasts a plethora of highly skilled and experienced cosmetic professionals. Santa Barbara's practitioners are often at the forefront of the industry, ensuring that you receive top-notch care and results.

Natural Aesthetics: Santa Barbara is known for its commitment to enhancing natural beauty. Lip filler treatments here are geared toward creating a subtle, harmonious look rather than an exaggerated or artificial appearance. This ensures that your lips look enhanced, yet still in sync with your facial features.

State-of-the-Art Facilities: The city is home to numerous state-of-the-art clinics and medical centers, equipped with the latest technology and facilities. This ensures your lip filler procedure is safe and efficient.

Beautiful Surroundings: The serene beauty of Santa Barbara makes it a calming and rejuvenating place for your cosmetic treatments. The picturesque landscapes can help you relax and recover after your lip filler procedure.

The Art of Lip Fillers

Lip fillers, also known as dermal fillers, are cosmetic injections designed to enhance the volume and shape of your lips. They are a non-surgical solution for achieving fuller, plumper lips. The primary ingredient in lip fillers is hyaluronic acid, a naturally occurring substance in the body that helps retain moisture and adds volume to the lips.

The procedure is relatively simple, with minimal downtime, making it a popular choice for those seeking a quick and effective way to enhance their lips. It usually takes less than an hour, and you can go about your daily activities immediately after the treatment.

What to Expect

Before the Procedure:

Consultation: Your journey with lip fillers starts with a consultation with a qualified practitioner. They will assess your needs, discuss your goals, and formulate a treatment plan tailored to your unique facial structure.

Pre-Treatment Instructions: Your practitioner will provide you with specific pre-treatment instructions, such as avoiding certain medications and alcohol, to ensure the best results.

During the Procedure:

Numbing Cream: To minimize discomfort, a numbing cream or local anesthetic is applied to the treatment area.

Injection: The filler is strategically injected into your lips to achieve the desired volume and shape. Your practitioner will use their expertise to ensure a natural and balanced look.

After the Procedure:

Immediate Results: You will notice the results almost immediately. However, there might be some initial swelling and bruising, which should subside within a few days.

Recovery: There is minimal downtime associated with lip filler treatments. You can resume your daily activities right after the procedure.

Duration: The results typically last from 6 to 12 months, depending on the type of filler used and individual factors.

Follow-Up: A follow-up appointment may be scheduled to assess the results and make any necessary adjustments.

Benefits of Lip Fillers

Enhanced Volume: Lip fillers provide a noticeable increase in lip volume, giving you fuller, more plump lips.

Definition: They can help define the lip borders, creating a more attractive and youthful appearance.

Rejuvenation: Lip fillers can reduce the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles around the mouth, helping to rejuvenate your overall facial look.

Minimal Downtime: The non-surgical nature of lip fillers means you can return to your daily routine without significant disruption.

Natural Look: Santa Barbara's emphasis on a natural aesthetic ensures your results will enhance your beauty while preserving your unique features.

Conclusion

Lip fillers in Santa Barbara offer a perfect blend of expertise, artistry, and natural beauty. If you're looking to enhance your lips, this picturesque coastal city is the ideal place to do so. The expert practitioners, state-of-the-art facilities, and a commitment to subtle, natural aesthetics make Santa Barbara a top destination for lip filler treatments. Embrace the art of lip fillers and unlock a more confident and beautiful you in this stunning Californian paradise.

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