#do i dare add in some more ship names

[unholyhelbig]

i would love a one shot of nat interacting w ronnie! maybe r is caught up doing a job for nat and nat has to pick ronnie up from school and domesticity w r ensues?

Title: The Carpool Lane [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You get caught up while running an errand for Natasha and aren't able to pick your daughter up from school. You ask Natasha to do it and she has to grapple with some big feelings.

[a/n: Hello! I promise you all that the last official chapter of the Oversight is going to be posted soon. It is a very heavy one so here is some fluff in the meantime! Also, I'm opening my requests again, so feel free to send some my way.]

Warnings: None that I can think of other than horrible grammar, but please let me know if I need to add any!

Check out the full Oversight universe

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven]

The air in the home office had become sticky and cloying. It often did when the sun decided to shine as strongly as it did. Natasha kept her books clean and clear of dust but often times there was only so much she could do. Large particles floated in the crossfire of a golden glow. It almost pained her to wrench the window open and disrupt the flow.

It was difficult for Natasha to keep focus when she could hear the sounds from outside and feel the soft breeze on her skin. She was often known for her dedication, for her focus and her ruthlessness. But on afternoons, she was stuck doing mountains of paperwork when she’d much rather be doing you.

Natasha often drifted into hazed memories of the whimpers that escaped you, your breathless swears interlaced with the intoxicating way you moaned her name. She liked teasing you until you begged for her, until you needed her more than you needed breath, until you arched your back and cried into the thousand thread count sheets.

Of course, her favorite thing was to bring you to the very edge with her just her delicate touch and her sultry words. You’d come undone underneath her, coated in sweat and ready to please as an orgasm rocked through- an annoying ringtone.

Natasha had shoved her phone into the bottom drawer of her desk to gain some focus. It clearly wasn’t working. Her nails scratched across the rich oak of the desks surface before she pawed around.

Yelena had set her ringtone to the loudest, most obnoxious blowhorn she could find. She claimed that Natasha was losing her touch and often couldn’t hear anything past her own thoughts. And so, what if that was the case? Natasha quite liked her thoughts lately.

“Romanoff,” She drawled, voice dripping with annoyance.

“Hi,”

It took one breathless word from you and everything else was forgotten. There was worry in that single syllable and it made Natasha’s world spin for only a second before she got her bearings. She could do this. She was in charge.

“Tell me where you are.”

“You know where I am, you sent me here yourself.” You chuckled in a low whisper. Natasha had sent you to collect rent from your usual charges. She knew your pattern and could hear the low hum of the row of washing machines behind you.

While she prided herself on her ability to train you into the perfect protector with a quick hand a vicious tongue, she wouldn’t dare change a thing about your soft spots. You had particular one for the family that rented the apartment above the Soapsuds laundry mat and ran it seamlessly.

It was nearly impossible for you to say no to the elderly woman that took up residence with her son. She’d make you tea and you’d indulge in cookies as she regaled you with her charming stories from the 40’s.

“She’s a trained killer, ma, she doesn’t have time for this!”

Natasha heard the son’s accented voice muffle it’s way through the phone. She scoffed, and switched her phone to her other ear. You must have put your palm over the receiver because you were garbled too.

“I absolutely have time for this Miss Vazquez.” You returned to your conversation, voice whispered once more. “I don’t have time for this, Nat. I don’t want to break her frail heart. Could you possibly… pick Ronnie up from school?”

Natasha had been rendered silent, which wasn’t a feat that was often achieved in a shocking manner. Usually, if a Romanoff was quiet, they were busy calculating and it was better to avoid the storm brewing behind their eyes. This wasn’t the same kind of soundlessness.

She had to pick her jaw off the floor. Veronica was your entire life, and though Natasha came in for a close second, you would do absolutely anything for that child. You’d walk through fire, and it was testament to your growing trust with Natasha, having her pick your daughter up from school.

“Nat, baby” your voice came through the phone “did I lose you? If it’s too much I can get Darcy to take a later lunch. It’s not a problem at all. I shouldn’t have asked, you’re a busy woman and-“

“I’d love to.”

“Huh?”

“I can pick her up, y/n, really.”

Her palms started to sweat, and Natasha never sweated. She stood up and started to pace the length of her office, entering and exiting the large stream of light that vented in through the window. She listened carefully as you told her word for word how to enter the car line, and what mothers to avoid entirely.

“I’ll call ahead, let them know you’re safe to pick up Ronnie. Thank you for doing this, Natty. I appreciate it.”

She smiled, biting her thumbnail. She stopped at the window and peered out at the newly installed swing set at the edge of the property. So many little things had changed in Natasha’s life over the last year. There were children’s books strewn over the tables and art supplies that Ronnie loved to draw with. This was an extra step. This was the extra step that made her fingers itch for the ring hidden in the false bottom of her desk.

“Darling! Would you like to hear about the night I had with Robert Kennedy?”

“I would love to, Miss Vazquez!” You called back, lowering your voice once more. “I love you, I’ll see you at home. Dinner is on me.”

You had hung up the phone a few moments ago but Natasha kept it against her face for a few moments as if it were an anchor. She had to pick up Ronnie. She had to pick up Ronnie. Natasha was on her feet now, searching the large living room and foyer, and even the nightstands by her bed before she grasped at her keys and sprinted out the door.

Veronia was a girl of very little words, but she was comfortable enough around Natasha to curl into her side during movie nights, little fist clenching onto the fabric of her shirt. Most of the time, she’d fall asleep before the end of the film and Natasha would stare affectionately as you scooped her up and took her to her room.

Now, Natasha sat in the parking lot of the school with blood rushing past her ears. Somehow, the gaggle of mothers that lingered by the release doors were scarier than anything she had ever faced before.

She’d been shot at least four times and had survived them all. She had pulled the trigger herself more times than she could count, but all of curious eyes landing on her sleek black car made her nearly sweat through her t-shirt.

Natasha stalled as long as she could before taking the tentative steps across the asphalt lot. There was a small patch of green grass that seemed to be overwatered if it still held its vibrant color during a late heated day.

Her sunglasses were down over her eyes and she feigned looking at her phone, though she eyed each and every parent that lingered. They were openly staring at her, and she heard a few hushed whispers, absolutely no attempt to muffle their judgements.

“Don’t pay them any mind.”

Natasha startled, not noticing the woman that had sidled up next to her. Her skin was pale, her hair a pitch-black color that must have heated her up on a day like this. She stuck her hand out and Natasha took it carefully, shaking it. “Jessica Jones.”

“Natasha Y/L/N,”

The woman was apprehensive to use her own last name. While she kept a mostly low profile, there were still some people who would clock the name as something familiar. The last thing she needed was someone targeting you, or God-forbid, Ronnie. The words fit perfectly into her mouth like a sweet candy.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, and apparently neither have the vultures with the way they’re circling.”

She couldn’t help but smile “I’m… new. My partner got a little tied up at work and asked me to pick up her daughter.”

“Ah, so you’re that Natasha.” She must have flushed awkwardly, nervously, because Jessica seemed to backtrack. “Nothing bad. There are moms like the women over there who put their entire being into making everything perfectly beige. Then there are moms like y/n and I. Imperfect.”

Natasha’s eyebrows lifted. Each woman that flocked towards the front of the glass doors, waiting excitedly for their children to spill out did have the same look about them. They all wore leggings and different colored pastel shirts. Each one had the same highlights and haircuts, and apprehensive stares.

“We’re out here a lot together, and it was pretty obvious when things started to change for her. With you around, the smile actually reaches her eyes you know?”

The statement warmed Natasha greatly and made the box in her desk weigh heavier on her mind. Of course, she didn’t want to think too much about it, but she also wanted to make sure that you were happy, something you reassured her of over and over again.

Natasha opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the barrage of tiny feet on the sidewalks and grass. There was a sea of runny noses and crinkled papers slathered in different primary colors.

A small boy with dark ringlets of hair crashed into Jessica’s legs clumsily and she let out a large huff of air in response, scooping him up into her arms. He had the most startling blue eyes like his mother and gave Natasha a gap-toothed-goofy smile.

Natasha was searching the crowd for your daughter. It wasn’t like she would call out, that was much too vocal for her and Natasha didn’t blame the girl in the slightest. Through the sea of kids, her eyes locked on Ronnie’s and she gave her an encouraging smile and a small wave.

Veronica’s expression lit up as she dashed the few feet that was separating them. Natasha had the foresight to lean down enough to dampen the impact of her hug. It was quite the rare occasion to be embraced by her, so she savored the spring scent of her.

“Your mama got caught up at work and asked me to pick you up.” Natasha explained, leaning back on her heel, she brushed a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear. “What’s that?”

Natasha gently pointed to the picture that was in Veronica’s hand. Her chest welled with pride at the drawing and she would say that it was miles better than any other kid she saw run out with their artwork. Yelena had been right; Ronnie had a beautiful gift that Natasha would pour everything into for as long as she wanted to call it her craft.

This particular scene was a rendition of the large house, too big to fit within the confines of the paper. There was six figures that vaguely resembled each person Natasha knew and loved. A clear grouping had been established.

Kate was smeared in a purple color with dark locks of hair.

Yelena had been drawn next to her, hand and hand.

Clint stood close to them- but not too close- with his signature deep look.

What called to Natasha the most was how Ronnie had grouped her. There was a figure by the edge of the page that was clearly you, down to a tea, and a shorter figure right next to you that was unmistakably Ronnie. The two figures held hands; and on the other side, with her signature deep auburn hair and green eyes, stood Natasha. Her fingers were wrapped around Ronnie’s in the photo, too smudges of color that made the enforcers heart thrum harder than it ever had before.

“This is beautiful,” Natasha breathed, struggling not to let the water that built up in her eyes drip down her cheeks. That would be weird. It would freak Ronnie out. “I love it.”

“You do?” The girl asked.

“I do. In fact, it’s getting framed and hung up immediately.”

It was rare for Ronnie to speak, but it was a prize each time she did. Just like you, Natasha had begun to understand her body language and everything she said with her eyes. It was something she would grow out of, or maybe she would speak with just her art.

Either way, Natasha read her loud and clear.

It was well past ten pm by the time you had pulled yourself away from the laundry mat. You ended up eating dinner with the family despite your repeated refusal. It was some of the best food you have ever eaten and though you missed the quality time with Natasha, the vodka coating on the pasta would have you reeling for weeks.

The house was mostly dark by the time you returned, and you were careful when you let your keys drop into the dish by the door. A soft golden light streamed down the hallway, leading to the kitchen.

Natasha would often partake in a glass of red wine, a record playing softly in the background. It was her time to unwind, to do the dished from dinner and breathe out the stress of the day. Just like any office job. Sometimes she’d use the time to scrub away blood from under her nails as you waited patiently and took sparing sips from her glass despite denying wanting one of your own.

The sink wasn’t on, and the kitchen was mostly silent save for a faucet drip here and there. Natasha leaned against the counter and stared at the moonlit swing set in the yard. It was bathed in just enough pale light to make out the shapes drifting in the light breeze.

You came up behind her, snaking your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. She shivered against the coolness of your skin, but hugged you tight against her center with a comforting and raspy hum.

“Thank you for picking up Ronnie today,” you mumbled into the side of her neck, “And getting her to bed. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Natasha turned in your arms and had a bit of a pout to her expression that you weren’t expecting. You lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at her. You wanted to kiss that frown right off her lips. You wanted to lull her into a state of content after the long day you’d had.

Almost timidly, she said “We’re a family. That’s what we do.”

God, how long you’d wanted to hear that. This time, you didn’t hesitate to close to the distance between you both. You kissed her softly; you kissed her with so much love that it left you dizzy.

You’d scared away partners before with the prospect of having a daughter. Most of the time, you wouldn’t’ even bring it up until a third date, when you were close to sure. But even then, you’d be left at the restaurant, or the bowling alley, or the movie theatre by yourself once the words left your mouth.

Nothing about your relationship with Natasha had been conventional, however, and each day she shocked you with her tenderness and care for someone she had no responsibility towards. Just letting you and Ronnie move in had been enough. Parenting her? Loving her? It felt beyond reality.

She chuckled into the kiss, running her fingers down your jaw. “I love you too, detka.”

“Mm, seriously, thank you.”

“Do you want to see something?”

You lifted your eyebrows suggestively and earned a light-hearted smack to the shoulder. She wormed her way out of your embrace and crossed the large kitchen to the fridge. When you’d first moved in, it was blank. There was a single wedding invitation tacked up with a magnet for joining the Murdock and Natchios families in matrimony, but even that had been years old.

Now there was something new.

Something that had unmistakably been crafted by Ronnie. The photo was a beautiful mix of colors and mediums and at the very corner in, in blue crayon, were two words; My Family.

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

#Natasha Romanoff #natasha romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Marvel Reader Insert #Clint Barton #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Katelena #yelena x kate #Black Widow #Marvel #Hawkeye #Request #mafia au

[heartofwritiing]

could you write wilbur soot confessing his love to a crush? 👉👈

something about how he's been pinning after this crush for so long, but the crush seems a bit avoidant or something

but that's because the crush also has a crush on him and is very very shy qpwimsmanssjslslek sorry im not good with requests

You and me need never be, lonely again.

Paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader

authors note: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you don't mind the reader being a content creator and i’m sorry she’s not super shy because im not really sure how to write shy lol but i hope you like the request! I just thought it would add to the idea and I've wanted to do something similar to this for a while! This is a request back from august. I am so sorry this took me so long to get out. I've been going through some shit irl but I'm finally starting to come back to writing because I genuinely love it and posting on here since it is my safe space!

line from this prompt list

warnings: friends-lovers, reader lives in the US, brief description of anxiety, the reader sends mixed signals, swearing, kinda angsty, happy end, super unedited!

"No! That was such bullshit!"

The voice of Tommyinnit ran through the speakers of your computer causing you to let out a chuckle that you were the reason for his outburst.

You were playing Gang Beasts on stream with some of your closest friends, and you had grabbed Tommy's character and thrown him off the map by picking him up.

Laughter rang out amongst the group as the screen card popped up saying your username won. You cheered as everyone groaned but dispersed into 'ggs' then that's when everyone started to bid goodnight. You hadn't realized it had been four hours of streaming and playing games, showing the good time you were having with friends.

"Alright chat, that's gonna be it for me today! Please remember to click the follow button if you're new to stream that way you'll know when I go live! byeee!" You did your outro, quickly closed your stream down, and logged out of Twitch.

It was an uneventful stream session, thank god. You’ve noticed more and more how your chat gets when you even mention wilburs name.

“you logging off completely y/n/n?” Ranboos voices asks through your earbuds.

“No, I’ll play a few more rounds if you guys are down,” you respond.

“HELL YEAH!” Tommy boasted. “IM GONNA KICK YOUR ASS THIS TIME Y/N/N!”

“Oh, it’s on gremlin child!” you replied.

Wilbur listened to this conversation on his end, letting out a chuckle. He honestly doesn’t know why you make him laugh so easily. Anytime you threw a genius comment toward Tommy that was deemed insulting, or calling him a name Wilbur fell for you more and more. If only he had the guts to tell you.

You as well wouldn’t admit it but every time Wilbur laughed all you could feel was butterflies punching your stomach and a smile that made your cheeks hurt. You were also falling hard for him.

After about another fifteen minutes, Tommy and Ranboo had bid their goodbyes for the night and ended their calls. You were left in call with Wilbur, the silence could be cut with a knife.

Knowing him for two years was hard. Wilbur was everything to you. He was funny, smart, charming, and overall made you feel comfortable. Something you thought you’d never have with anyone. Having to only talk on call and video made things easier for you. On call you could hide your blushes and smiles from him, but not from your chat who caught every interaction between you and Wilbur when you streamed. The constant ’Wilbur x name confirmed?’ tweets and comments in your twitch chat were recently repetitive and you wondered when you became such a beacon of attention. It gave you such anxiety to have all eyes on you when you wanted to spend time with your best friend.

It was getting obnoxious to the point where you debated making a tweet to get the fans to stop shipping you both, even if you were dating it was no one’s business. Still you never dared to say anything out of fear of stans coming at you in anyway. You didn’t need to draw more unwanted attention to yourself.

“You logging off? it’s getting pretty late for you,” you spoke up.

“Yeah, we both should, by the way what times your flight tomorrow?”

Right, you were flying less than eight hours from now to finally meet your friends inperson. You all had planned this for months, booking hotels and flights, making a whole deal about it. Then you really wouldn’t be able to hide from him for a whole week.

“Around seven-thirty,” you reply.

He hums.

“I’ll let you get some rest, see you tomorrow night darling,” his voice purposely going lower on the ‘darling’ part that you almost didn’t catch it, making your knees go weak.

“N-night Will,” you stutter, end call and slump back into your desk chair trying to calm your racing heart. Meanwhile Wilbur all the way across the ocean in Brighton has a smile plastered across his lips.

About a plane ride, a train ride and car ride later, you are stood in the hotel lobby in Brighton waiting for a late Tommy and Wilbur to arrive. You were super nervous to meet them. Having only been friends for what was a short time, it felt like you knew them for years, so why was this so scary?

You debated in your mind about texting them to see if they were close by, but you didn’t want to come off as annoying and impatient. You wanted to make a good first impression, but again these were your friends. Why were you shaking with nerves?

You fiddled with your thumb’s absentmindedly until you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump out of your skin. You spin around to be met with a cackling Tommy who is clucking his stomach from laughing so hard at your reaction.

“Fucking gremlin child,” you huffed under your breath, not realizing the evident blood rushing to your cheeks from being startled so easily.

“It’s nice to hear you say that in person,” a deep voice said from behind Tommy. You shifted your eyes to see a very tall Wilbur, who was wearing his round glasses pushed up his nose and curly hair fluffed to the side.

His dark sweater selves rolled up to revel his arms tucked into his side as he gazed at you with a soft smile. Finally after two years of being separated by seas, your best friend was standing right in front of you. It was surreal to say the least.

You laugh and jump forward to embrace him. The number of times you’d tease him over-call about his height made you regret your words. He towers over you as he bends down to your level to give you a long awaited hug. His arms are soft, yet firm as they wrap around your back and cage you into his embrace.

You both pull away, both grinning from ear to ear. He looks down at you with a hint of something behind his eyes, he seems to be genuinely happy to finally meet you in person. which makes you blush at the thought of him looking forward to this moment since you told him you wanted to come here. You're quickly brought out of your moment when Tommy speaks up behind you.

"So he gets a hug and I don't?!" his tone slightly offended.

"Yup, cause you're annoying," you bring a hand up to flick his forehead, causing him to let out a irritated noise. you had only just met him in person but something compelled you to do that. Maybe it was just a reason for you to break the ice and it was working because you all broke out into giggles.

“Im just kidding Tom,” you motion him into a hug.

Wilbur just stood observing the entire interaction between his two best friends. He was thrilled to finally have you here, he couldn't wait to show you all his favorite places, hang out, and get to know better in person. Finally.

The two boys had managed to drag you to the beach, and even though it was freezing Tommy insisted on going to the arcade to try and win another 'vlog gun'. After suffering through loosing a few games, Wilbur managed to win you a little stuffed cat that you promptly named Mr Whiskers.

It was endearing to watch him struggle at most of the games so he could get enough tickets. It was all worth it in his eyes to embarrass himself by losing ski-ball to you, twice, he saw the evident blush on your cheeks and the look you gave him. As if he hung the stars in the sky just for you. It made his chest hurt in a good way.

The rest of the night went smoothly for the most part. More and more, Wilbur had been getting more touchy with you. Though you didn’t mind it at all, maybe he didn’t realize how much he was putting his hand on you as you walked side by side as he led you through crowds. How he held doors open for you. It was sweet.

Maybe he was doing it just to be nice. That small voice in the back of your head telling you thats all it was. Because thats what friends do.

Eventually, the three of you met up with Ranboo and Charlie. They were just how they were online, which made meeting them a whole lot better. Walking around Brighton, making inside jokes and teasing each other. You hadn't been this happy in a while. You can remember the last time you genuinely enjoyed yourself, your friends were the product of that. You were fortunate to have found them when you did. Quarantine was hard on you, much like the rest of the world. So when you were invited to join a group game call, you couldn't pass up the opportunity. That night, something had clicked between you and Wilburt specifically. Then you started to join more calls with the gang and the rest was history.

Sometime in the night, you found yourself walking behind with Wilbur by your side chatting about nothing in particular. Until the comfortable silence filled the air between you, you took a moment to take in the nightlife of Brighton. The street lamps guide your way through the beachside and the pubs on the corner were starting to fill up. As if the city was somehow more alive at night.

"I'm really glad you came," Wilbur speaks, sincerely.

You stop your wide-eyed gaze to look at him and smile softly at him.

"I am too," You gush. "I'm honestly considering moving here,” Now he’s smiling.

Wilbur's brain starts to go a million miles a second. His heart leaped at the thought of you living closer to him. Seeing you in person everyday seemed like a dream come true. He begins to slow his step and a frown replaces your smile. Your own thoughts running rampant now, assuming you might've freaked him out by voicing that you wanted to move here so soon after meeting him in person. Maybe it made him uncomfortable. it was too soon to say something that bold. You had only just met him in person today.

"Listen, Y/N..."

You stopped and your brain got the best of you with his tone. You shouldn't have said anything like that to him. It was too soon.

“I don’t want to sound cheesy, but I need you to know how I feel.”

Oh... OH.

You knew what this was leading to. Realizing why he was acting the way he was all day.

"I like you, more than like you. You're funny, beautiful, smart, and everything I could've hoped for in a best friend. But I can't keep pretending I don't think of you when we aren't talking, or how when I look at you my chest hurts."

Wilbur liked you. Really liked you. You would jump for joy and shout to the rooftops about how much you reciprocate his feelings but something in the back of your mind told you not to. The doubt in your mind from yourself, both your fans online judging. It made you slowly start to panic. You felt as though you weren’t good enough for him.

You saw the aftermath of when his fans shipped him and Niki together. It almost ruined their friendship. You didn’t want that.

"Please say something?" he stops his rant to notice you are staring up at him with blank eyes.

"I-uh," you stutter. "can we maybe not do this now?"

His face falls and it instantly crushes you with regret. His disappointment shows as he gives you a forced smile and nods.

"Y-yeah, let's catch up with everyone, Tommy wants to do this big stream at his place." he gestures for you to move along with him, all while you feel horrible for doing this.

You wish you could take back what you said. You know you've hurt him, It's painfully obvious when he doesn't talk to you for the rest of the walk. You glance at him a few times but he keeps his eyes forward and stoic.

If only you didn’t let your anxiety get the best of you. You had to talk to him at some point, but for now you pushed it aside. The rest of the group didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension between the two of you, if they did nothing was remarked about it.

As you continued the journey to Tommys flat, you and Wilbur still walked silently side by side. With what little courage you had, you reached out your hand and held his in a moment of truce. Giving it a gentle squeeze with your fingers to seal the deal that you would talk later. You heard his soft inhale at the contact and he squeezes back. Your shoulders drop from the weight of tension being lifted off. Maybe, just maybe this ment this conversation wasn’t over.

Back at Tommy’s, the monitor in his cramped bedroom with everyone packed together like sardines; shows the twitch chat flashing by with viewers comments.

“WELCOME BACK TO THE STREAM EVERYONE!” Tommy shouted causing you to hold your ear in slight pain.

“God Tommy, could you be anymore loud?” you wince.

“Look who’s here chat!” he gestured to you with his hands, ignoring your complaints. You waved at the webcam as chat went crazy. He introduced everyone else as they all broke out into a chorus of conversation.

Wilbur was mostly quiet on your left, an occasional sarcastic comment made here and there. You could practically feel his eyes buring into the side of your head. Hopping chat wasn’t noticing how he was looking at you, your eyes shifting to your lap to fidget with your fingers.

Out of view, Wilbur reached over and took your hand picking at the skin around your nails. You had stopped your nervous tick and opted for squeezing his hand. Nobody seemed to notice the sudden shift in both your behavior.

Suddenly you felt tense, the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on you made your mind start to spiral.

Letting go of Wilburs hand, you quickly had excused yourself and walked out of Tommys room and into the kitchen.

Everyone had a mix of concerned and worried expressions as they watched you leave the room but didn’t say anything about it. Wilbur had followed you in pursuit. He found you in the kitchen hyperventilating Your panic had taken over and now your lungs were paying the price for the burning sensation from not breathing.

“it's okay,” he took your face into his hands and held you. “just follow my breaths.

he took a breath in, and you followed.

When you came to your senses, Wilbur had asked you what was wrong and you just began to cry. Everything came rushing down on you.

“Im sorry. I-Im sorry I shot you down earlier, Im sorry for h-hurting you. I-i,” you stuttered over yourself. Wilbur shakes his head at you. He probably thinks you’re such a mess.

“I don’t understand, I know you like me too, so I don’t understand why you rejected me after I poured my heart out to you. Then you go and hold my hand while we're walking.'

Wilbur was right. Playing with his feelings was selfish and cruel. He was completely in the right to question you. You were practically flirting with one another all day, and then you shut down his advances of trying to open your relationship.

“I do wanna be with you.” you sniff. “I'm just really scared.”

"Why darling? It's just me, your silly old Wil." he pokes at your sides causing you to let out a giggle. Your best friend, who looked at you with the prettiest chocolate eyes, who stayed on call with you all night when you couldn't sleep. The only person you told your deepest fears and dreams to.

You take a shaky inhale as you begin to explain. "I don't wanna ruin our friendship, we have something I've never experienced with anyone else in my life. I care about you too much to let me be a distraction in your life, and I am scared that the fans will-"

Wilbur interrupts you with a hand on your arm.

"The fans? darling who cares about that, I care way too much about you to even care about what strangers think. It's no one's business who I, or you for that matter have a relationship with." he clarified. "I love you and nothing or no one will ever change that."

Those three words made your heart leap in your throat.

"Y-you l-love me?" you stutter in disbelief.

"Yes, of course I do."

Tears roll down the apples of your cheeks as you lean forward to engulf Wilbur into another hug. His arms wrapped around your back reciprocating your embrace. your face buried in his neck as you inhale his cologne and your tears dampen his skin.

"I love you too Wil," you whisper.

He squeezes you closer to him in return and this time you don't hold yourself back...

-

taglist: @trashcanduck @ax-y10 @mysticalsoot @idontreallyexistyet @loonalvjy @toastyliltoasts41

#wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur soot x reader #fanfiction #mcyt fanfiction #wilbur soot x fem!reader #x reader #request #anon request #writing #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot fanafiction

[kredenakrejn]

Last update: 02.02.24.

Welcome on my blog :D

✦ About me

My name here is Kredena or Krejn I love nicknames too :3

My Sona's ref (I'll add it later)

Multifandom artist Mostly UTMV stuff for now But I also like: RotTMNT, LMK, HelluvaVerse, MLP, Tadc and many more!

B-Day on 13 of April

She / They

I am Aroace (Aromatic / Asexual) Maybe a bit Pan and Demiromatic too..? 'Am not sure

I will die / bite for my friends (they are like a family to me.)

Sometimes I use "we" but I am just one person here It's just sometimes more comfortable to write like that

I sometimes have problems with knowing what emotions I feel at the moment I sometimes over-react just to be silly Or sometimes I just feel empty

I work at McDonalds (save me) on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and every other Sunday

No problem with saying stuff about myself, just someone needs to ask

✦ Side Blogs @Krejn-UTMV-Art @Bad-Sanses-SMP

✦ Other Socials Twitch YouTube I have literaly the same name everywhere where I am, to make it easier for you guys)

✦ Boundaries

If I say "I love you" I don't say it in a romantic way I only say it in a platonic way. So don't you dare think 'am flirting with you.

DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY ART ANYWHERE You may reblog it (some people think it's the same as reposting, but it's not.) You may use it if it was a gift for you You may use it if you asked me before that (but you NEED to credit me.)

If something is not clear about me Plz just ask I get sad when people just assume stuff about me

Plz do not use any images, gifs, or videos with smol children, when you talk with me They just disgust me, I can't help it

If you gonna hurt even one of my friends, you gonna have a bad time buddy.

Plz, don't add ship tags when there is none of 'em on the original post

✦ Personal Tags #Ask #Krejn's Art #MySona #MyOC #Not my Art #MaFren #Krejn's Talk #Krejn's Post

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

If you like what I create, plz consider supporting me on Ko-Fi! I will be making doddles for every donation :3

Before donating, plz note:

I have work, so I will not be able to draw the same secound you send me a donation

I will not draw N5FW, T-C3ST or PRO5HIP stuff, so plz do not ask me for it

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Yes I am @kredenadark Some may be curious why I will no longer be active there Well, explenation under the cut

My old discord account got hacked, tho I was able to buy my data back (*cries*) I did not feel safe on my old accounts, so I decided to make new ones where I could, or change every emile and password I had I tried to recover form my old blog whatever I could, for some time, I will be just rebloging my old stuff, so I will not lose it too Becouse of the fact that before re-instalating my windows, I saved my files on the pendrive the wrong way, all the stuff from my laptop is gone, so all my WIP's are lost, sorry, I was not able to show them to you

#MasterPost #Krejn's Post

[stormy-river]

Transcripts from the Humanity Hotline 6

I usually put words up here... huh... what to say... (Thanks for all the continued support on this silly little project of mine)

----

Operator: "Hi, my name is Mindy. How may I help you today?"

Caller 1: "Greetings, Mindy. We've had a human on board for a while now, and everything has seemed fine so far, but a few minutes ago I passed by his workstation and he was listening to music, and I heard some of the words in the song and now I'm concerned for the safety of my ship and crew. I don't dare repeat what I heard, but it was about a violent mutiny."

O: "Alright, this has happened a few times before. For now, I don't think you have anything to worry about, but I would like to get some more information before ending the call."

C1: "I will provide whatever I can."

O: "Great, I don't think this will take long. Do you know what the name of the song is? Or if not, can you ask the human?"

C1: "I don't know the name, but Phil should be on break, and I can add him to the call if that is alright."

O: "Sounds good."

Caller 2: "Hey, Captain! What's up? Who's on the other line?"

C1: "Greetings, Phil. This is Mindy, and we are discussing a concern I have from earlier."

O: "Hi! It's Phil, right? I'm Mindy from the Humanity Hotline. I have a couple questions for you."

C2: "Oh... what did I do this time?"

O: "Don't worry, I have a feeling it's a misunderstanding. I'm told you were listening to music earlier. Is there a specific song or playlist you were listening to?"

C2: "Um, a pop playlist I made a few weeks back."

O: "Is 'Tricked-Out Ships' on this playlist?"

C2: "Yeah, it's a banger. How'd you know?"

O: "Just a hunch. Have you listened to the lyrics?"

C2: "Eh, not really. They're kinda lost in the music, right? Should I look them up or something?"

O: "Please do."

[Approx. 3 minutes removed for lack of necessity.]

C2: "This.. is awful. The song is ruined."

C1: "You mean to tell me that humans will listen to music without knowing what they are listening to?"

O: "Not every human, and not every song, but it does happen surprisingly often."

C1: "Interesting. Thank you for your help, Mindy."

C2: [rustling and humming sounds]

O: "Happy to help. Is everything alright, Phil? There's some static or something."

C2: "Oh, it's paper. I'm writing new lyrics so I can enjoy the song again."

End Transmission

#humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans and aliens #humanity hotline

[jean0farc]

‎ ‎‎Honor Among Thieves

Captain Hook x Fem! Reader | 2.5k

⎯⎯ summary ‣‣‣ “On an ordinary summer day my friends and I are having fun at the beach when suddenly Captain Hook and his pirates come seemingly out of nowhere and attack, causing chaos. I try to escape, even so much as to reach the car my friends and I used to get there, but I get caught and by one of the pirates and taken.”

⎯⎯ content warnings & tags ‣‣‣ dubcon, penis in vagina sex, creampie, fem! oral receiving, dom! Hook, body worship, fingering, breast kink, praise, dirty talk and pet names.

⎯⎯ requested by ‣‣‣ the wonderful @disney-girl67.

⎯⎯ banner credits ‣‣‣ the lovely @cafekitsune.

The intensifying heat of the sun today was rather unbearable for my liking—I had to make sure the amount of sunscreen I applied was just right for my skin in regards to basking in the summer heat. Thankfully, my best friends had some spare bottles of lotion perfect for our trip to the beach. We’ve packed just the best meals suitable for our picnic date; it’s been a while since we’ve taken a week off of an exhausting day of work, and an opportunity arose when we were given a discount to a beach getaway!

I drew a satisfying breath, taking in the fresh breeze that blew from the east side of the coast. Apart from the overwhelming heat of the sun, it was quite refreshing to take a time off of the monotonous city where industries and businesses collided in chaos. The palm trees danced lively by the breathtaking view, the birds chirping happily as we booked a stay at the chalet nearby.

“So, Ashley, what do you think of this spot so far?” I asked.

“It’s perfect,” my friend smiled. “Summer is a godsend, especially these days. The weather may be humid, but other than that their services are properly managed. I can’t stand always having to work under our boss lately. So I’ve decided to take a leave!”

“May I add that this particular sea stands out because there’s lots of treasure underneath.” my other friend commended. “Rumors say there used to be pirates here, but I believe they’re long dead after getting shipwrecked.”

“Pirates?” I asked, sitting upright, fixing my bikini. “Wait, are you saying, this place isn’t safe for visitors like us?”

“Relax, friend,” my other friend spoke, laughing. “It’s just a scary story spread all across this village. I’m sure that with all the legal authorities becoming more aware of the troubles they cause, they're probably thrown into prison by now.”

“Good, good.” I replied. 

“Anyways, I think now is the right time to go in for a dive! The deeper, the better!” 

“Wait, guys, but-“ 

My friends ignored me this time. They left me without any explanation to stay, leaving me to rot in my own thoughts of whether there were potential thieves roaming around the place. But I’ve decided I won’t back down. I left the patio, without any other reason to make excuses for why I refused to go in for a swim. Out of guilt, I just kept on going, leaving all my worries behind.

My friends and I ran towards the seaside, happy and carefree of the world’s stressors. We even threw some handfuls of sand at each other and splashed some seawater the moment we went for a swim. 

I found it difficult to keep up with my friends this time, the way they swam around the beach and took pictures of the glittering waters. But I dared not to be a killjoy as of this moment, I complied with their requests to have fun regardless.

As we swam recklessly by the sea, I noticed the sight of a large, wooden ship approaching from a distance, seemingly approaching towards us. I felt all along that my gut instinct was right. I tried my best to not falter at first, but knowing they could kill if we didn’t surrender our belongings was something I was truly terrified of. 

“Ashley! Lottie! Mary!” I called out. “There’s a ship approaching! Let’s gather around and leave!”

“[Name], you’re being incredibly ridiculous.” my friend Mary laughed. “Those can’t be pirates! It looks like a normal ship!”

“But-“

My friends ignored my pleas, so I had no other choice but to leave the seaside. I was deathly worried about their wellbeing since pirates aren’t to be trusted regardless, but I started to give less fucks about others and focus on my own needs. This is it. I left my friends and made my way back to the beach house, running half naked and sweaty from the intense blanket of heat that filled the air.

“Take a closer look, Murphy,” scoffed a pirate from the ship as he used his binoculars to zoom into the sight of my friends swimming. “We eating good tonight, aren’t we?”

“Damn right. Nothing more than a bunch of bombshells worth taking in for the night.” Black Murphy laughed loudly. “James will surely be having fun by the end of the day. From what I understand, he’s already by the shore holding some random bitch hostage.”

“Right! Hah. The Captain should consider himself lucky.”

And there I was. I finally arrived at the beach house, surprised to find the door to our room locked. Pleas of someone could be heard from inside, and I didn’t know what to do other than bang the door from outside. The voice was muffled, which made me realize that whoever the captor was turned out to be someone not to be messed with.

My heart raced upon this discovery. Who could have possibly thought there was someone else inside the compound? I tried using all of my strength to open the door. I tried, and tried, and tried…..

And with all my brute force, I managed to successfully pry the door open. I was then met with an unexpected scene.

There in the corner of the room stood a tall, dark figure dressed in red, while his other hand was replaced with some sort of hook. He apparently was holding some sort of knife with his other hand, and it turned out that the identity of who he just killed was the manager of the beach house me and my friends stayed in. The figure took a step forward, revealing himself to be none other than a pirate captain.

I tried to leave, but another one of his pirates grabbed me by the wrists from behind, pushing me to the ground and swiftly locking the door from outside. It was unknown as to how this happened, but I knew from the bottom of my heart that this was coming. 

“Looking as gorgeous as you always were, lovely stranger.” the pirate spoke softly. “Say, are you perhaps here for a trip?”

“Um, yes?” I hesitantly replied. “Who could you be?”

“That doesn’t matter, my dear. In fact, your name doesn’t matter to me either. Say, what are your thoughts about a relationship of give and take? Worry not, for I won’t harm you, as long as you do exactly as I say.”

“Huh????”

“I came here to claim five million bucks from this entire resort. Provided you and your friends do exactly as we please, your lives shall be spared.”

“What???!!!” I protested, attempting to get up and reach for the door behind me. “No, I must have known…!! You-you must be the captain!!! Please, captain, spare our lives!!!”

“Why, if it isn’t the right answer, hm? My name is Captain Hook, I also go by the name James. Though this info won’t matter by the time I’m done with you.”

I froze, unsure of how to react in the face of such a threat. I attempted to stand up, only for the captain to kneel on one knee and unfasten my bikini straps. 

“Please…..” I begged. “Let me go! I’ll do anything!!!”

“Is that so? Why then, don’t resist.” Captain Hook smirked.

I frankly hated how this was turning me on.

He moved his hook down my breasts, groping it with the thin piece of metal while his other hand caressed my cheek. 

“Such a beautiful, sensitive little thing.” he cooed. “Gods must have sent you to serve as my personal pet.”

Tears formed in my eyes as I disobeyed his request and resisted the captain’s touch, only for him to pull me inward. He kneaded on my breasts gently and leaned closer to suckle on my nipples, which was already hard at the sight of his tall stature. He swirled his tongue around it, moaning gently as the sounds of sloppy slurps filled the room.

I hated how good it made me feel. I shivered at the thought of a random stranger’s face up my breasts, but there was no denying that he was extremely good at it. A part of my mind wandered on the scenario where he claimed a number of bodies. From the charm of his facial hair surrounding his features, to his enigmatic smile, it left me with chills—and they weren’t exactly that of the bad type.

He didn’t stop, oh, he didn’t. The more I held back a moan, he just kept sucking in long slurps that left me soaking in my arousal. My breath hitched at the sight of his unshaved face lapping and salivating against my breasts, carefully caressing it as he pulled away.

“Mmmmmhhhh~”, I groaned in frustration.

“What a cute, desperate pet.” Captain Hook whispered. “If all it takes for you to grow wet is to have someone suckle on those stress balls, then you must be a really needy whore after all.”

“Please……I need it….I need it so bad!!!” I protested, desperate for release.

“Eager for my cock?” Captain Hook asked. “Well, you might want to exercise a little patience, my dear. Good things don’t always come in easy packages. Now, let’s take this off from you, shall we?”

With that, he tore my panties off with a clenched fist, leaving my naked form to sulk in hopelessness and frustration. He wasn’t the type to give warnings, for he was quite straight up with what he wanted to do. He was all powerful. That only gave way for me to feel worthless and pathetically needy for his touch.

“Mmmmmm……already this wet? Hah. How pathetic.”

He didn’t give warnings, indeed. I knew he had it in him when he dove into my cunt, kissing the nub gently as he rubbed his finger against it. I felt as if I was about to squirt too early, but I held it in. Then comes the hard part. The fingers. He stuck two fingers in me, forcing his way in without any form of lube or prep. With the burning pain slowly melting away into pleasure, I let him swirl his tongue around my clit without any form of inhibitions after all. The captain yapped and lapped at my vaginal fluids, overflowing to an extent of it streaming down my cunt. It felt warm, pleasurable, and on top of all that, I felt like I was about to catch feelings for the man.

His digits began curling upward, making me wince at the length of his fingers, yet still aroused. The slight curve didn’t bother me in the slightest. It felt so good, and I for once didn’t mind squirting and cumming all over his face for all I cared.

“Ahhhh, I’m close,” I moaned. Captain Hook drove his mouth deeper, giving my clit a rough suck before pulling away. Leaving my entrance gaping with fluid, he chuckled smugly.

“You taste divine, pet. Hmmm….I think you’re ready to take all of me now. Just relax.”

Captain Hook let go of my figure, turning to his pants as he pulled the upper section down. I wasn’t expecting the sight of at least ten inches of trouser action, and I grew hopelessly frustrated by the fact that it still wasn’t shoved deep in me. 

“Now, now, dear.” Captain Hook spoke. “This won’t be lasting quite long. After all, you’re already this close.”

Spreading my legs wider, the captain rubbed my clit with his cock, enabling me to make use of my energy in humping right back. I held the throbbing length, and felt its texture before he slipped it right inside me with force.

”AGH!!” I squealed.

“What, don’t you like it?” Captain Hook asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Keep going….It burns, but, keep….going!”

“I see. Well, then who am I to deny you what you want.” 

With one thrust, he drove his cock inside me and started to slowly rock in and out of my cunt. It felt euphoric, really, the way he handled me roughly and recklessly without any filter. To compensate for his efforts of ramming through my walls, I fucked him back.

My breasts wobbled as my body grew used to the pleasure judging from the growing speed of his thrusts. He was brutal, violent, just like any other pirate would be when faced with an incoming threat. Gripping my cheeks tightly, Captain Hook used his superior strength to lift my limbs upward to gain a better access towards my core. He kept hitting, and hitting the spot, so much that I could feel myself cumming in less than five whole minutes. I arched and mewled against his grasp, the sounds of skin slapping against skin becoming more apparent. I began to develop no care for whoever overheard our little affair going on. All I needed was to reach completion at the hands of this charming stranger.

Captain Hook was also growing desperate over time. His moans grew more animalistic, muttering a ‘yes’ repeatedly as he was about to lose composure. When I felt a tinge of pleasure spark from within my heated core, that was when he chose to pick up speed. He then leaned closer to feel my neck with his face, leaving hickeys all over as he continued to bite down the layers of thin skin. I yelped in pain for a moment as the sensation slowly turned into pleasure the way he bit on the right spots. 

If only he could see my face right then and there, I would have been humiliated from that point onward. Then he did.

“Ah, ah, ah, no looking elsewhere.” Captain Hook muttered under his breath, panting hard. “Eyes on me. Show me how much you crave this feeling.”

“I—Mmmmmmhhhh….!!! Please, I’m….I’m gonna…..”

“Hold it off, little one. Have your master do all the work.”

With all his strength, Captain Hook grabbed my hips tightly, the hilt of his cock ramming in and out of my heat. The slaps against my ass were wet and loud, our moans matching each other like a symphony. 

“Agh!!!! Captain!!!” I trembled in excitement. “Ahhhhh~”

I wailed his name (James) as Captain Hook thrusted so deep into my core. My walls fluttered and throbbed hard that it was almost a crime for him to pull out of me. I shook against him, crying like a bitch in heat as I felt like the whole world had just shattered before my eyes. Captain Hook spurted his seed balls deep in me, his cum surrounding itself all over my dripping cunt. I let out a deep sigh, realizing the whole mess I’ve been engaging with in the company of a complete stranger.

“Hah……Hahhhhh……..”

Captain Hook didn’t even budge, his cock already retreating from my walls in a slow, yet steady fashion. 

“Such a filthy, disgusting little mutt.” he said, putting his cock back in and leaving me to sulk by the edge of the doorstep. “Get up.”

Captain Hook grabbed my cute, pink bikini, tossing it before my face.

“What is your name?”

“[Name].”

“You did well, [Name],” he said. “Judging by the looks of it, you owe me several nights of complete entertainment. Come outside when you’re ready. I’m more than willing to bring you into my ship.”

#captain hook disney #captain hook x reader #captain hook x you #disney villain x reader #x reader #dubious consent #disney x reader #disney smut #peter pan smut #captain hook

[andrea-lyn]

atla rec post the third! this round basically all zukka recs!

atla recs - part 3

noble blood by lupus (khaleeseas)

The Southern Water Tribe was no place for a firebender...or even a Fire Prince for that matter. And yet here Zuko was, not only in the South Pole’s capital itself but in the Royal Palace, protecting the tribe’s Chief after a failed assassination attempt. Chief Sokka, his old friend and a man who was intelligent and witty, yet kind of a dumbass. A man who was brave and strong and kind. A man who Zuko was utterly failing not to develop...personal feelings for. __

aka: a kind of roleswap AU with Southern Water Tribe Chief Sokka and bodyguard/mercenary Zuko.

it's more about the things that you take with by winterfire22

it’s been a few years since zuko took the throne, and he's doing his best. but there are some things missing.

enter his new ambassador program, and an opportunity to reconnect with an old friend.

before we jump ship, let me teach you how to stay afloat by eurydicees

He doesn't remember when his feelings changed, just that, somewhere between the fires of his homeland and the ocean of Sokka's pirate ship, he fell in love.

In which Zuko learns to swim, Sokka falls in love, and the sun and ocean remain as steady as ever.

in silence; ripen, fall and cease by aiyah

Zuko reaches out with trembling hands and tucks it behind Sokka’s ear.

“A pretty flower for a pretty boy,” he whispers.

- - -

[or: this is the story of an ikebana artist and the man who visits him.]

zing by meteor-sword (vaenire)

“I’ll just put away the rest of the treats for them. Toph, hold this will you?” He hefts Zuko’s bag over to her before Toph can protest, and she has a mind to drop the bag at her feet before she feels something interesting inside the bag. As her seismic sense ran passively through the bag, she sensed something small; it was heavier than the parchment but lighter than the bag of coins-- giving a feedback of vibration somewhere between glass and limestone.

//

Like usual, Toph sees this coming when no one else does.

gold in the air of summer by leopardfringe

Sometimes, Toph likes to ask about colors. Not often—people generally aren't great at explaining them to her, but her newfound metalbending abilities have left her curious.

(This, of course, has nothing at all to do with how she doesn’t even need her feet to know who's crushing on who in this group. Nope, this is just purely for research, and definitely not because she's sick of them dragging their feet.)

the stars go waltzing out in blue and red by tristanyvaine

Zuko falls in love with Sokka in the Southern Water Tribe. Sokka falls in love with Zuko in the Fire Nation. It spirals from there.

or: (Zuko thinks a lot about blue, words, love, and Sokka // Sokka thinks a lot about red, touch, love, and Zuko)

To Be Named, To Be Known (To Be Loved) by Erisenyo

Zuko needs tomorrow to be perfect, but when one person is so many things to so many people--My Lord, Fire Lord, Nephew, Zuzu, Sifu Hotman--how is he going to find the time to make sure everything goes exactly right?

Or,

Five titles Zuko has earned himself + One more to add to the list. If he can just get through this Very Important International Celebration first...

this ultraviolet morning light by GallifreyanFairytale

“Sokka?” Zuko’s voice is quiet and raspy as he shifts just enough that Sokka lifts his head up from Zuko’s shoulder. The confession Sokka had ready to go dies on his lips at Zuko’s expression - at the red he can just barely make out in Zuko’s eyes. “Sokka, I… need to tell you something.”

Sokka swallows and nods silently, not trusting his own admission to not slip out if he dares to open his mouth. Zuko must be confessing the same thing Sokka wants to. Which, admittedly, Sokka hadn’t actually planned for, but it’s fine. He can adapt to this. He just needs to shift a few words around in his brain, and--

“You’re my best friend, you know that right?”

And why does Zuko’s tone make this sound like a break up?

OR

sokka and zuko break up, make up, go undercover, thwart a rebellion, watch the sunrise, and change the course of fire nation history. not necessarily in that order.

the stars sighed in unison by spellboundrose

For some reason, Zuko can't stop looking at Sokka out of the corner of his eye. It must be something about the way the moonlight reflects off his skin—or maybe how his eyes, such a vibrant shade of blue, glimmer like the stars above them—

Oh.

Oh, no.

(Or, five moments under the night sky and one beneath the sun.)

everything and nothing at once by tristanyvaine

See, everything would be fine if Sokka was here, because if Sokka was here then Zuko wouldn't be thinking about him over and over and over again while he misses him from the stupid ponytail to his weird Water Tribe shoes.

signs of light by beachytablecloth

And now, out of breath from running, Sokka can feel the anxiety beginning to overwhelm him, stitching his sides and pounding in his ears.

“It’s Zuko,” he finally gets out, panting. “He’s missing.”

or,

Zuko gets kidnapped; Sokka falls apart.

A Predictable Story by mindbending

"On this night, you shall share a kiss with a great love of your life!”

That lying, scummy Aunt Wu predicts a grand romance for Sokka. To disprove her "fortunetelling" once and for all, Sokka decides to spend the night with least romantic person he knows.

Zuko.

Boomerangs and Rainbows by mindbending

At Sokka’s behest, the Gaang skips rescuing Zuko during the Siege at the North Pole. Instead they leave him, unconscious, buried in the snow.

In completely unrelated news, Sokka’s haunted by a ghost now.

little taste of heaven by loserlesbian

"His mom had given him a diary.

No, not a diary–– a journal, she had specified. He knows it’s a diary. Zuko thinks she only called it a journal because she thought that Zuko wouldn’t use it if she said otherwise. A diary is for feelings and angst, but a journal was for working through your problems without all that mushy, gushy stuff. It was for writing out simply what was in your head, nothing more, nothing less."

or, zuko through the years, struggling with himself and his sexuality.

#atla recs #zukka recs #avatar the last airbender #fic recs #zukka fic recs #sokka/zuko

[itsjaywalkers]

for the drabbles me n you 71 (jokes....unless..)

but seriously rosekiller 60—i think it fits their vibe perfectly

i seriously considered writing a silly drabble for u and me.. greatest ship of our generation etc etc

but anyways !! here u have some rosekiller darling <3

60. "Before you decide to murder me, let me explain..."

If you asked Barty how he ended up pinned to the ground, right next to an open and half-dug grave, and with a scalpel to his neck, he wouldn't know what to tell you.

He knows it started with the disinheritance. Or maybe it was a bit later, when Regulus had told him he couldn't keep hiding in his dorm room, because his neighbour was starting to get suspicious, and he couldn't afford to be kicked out, now that he had also stopped being a trust fund baby. Not like he behaves any less spoiled.

Barty is convinced that it had nothing to do with the risk of getting discovered, and everything to do with that brainless rugby player who has started coming over. Regulus keeps insisting that it's just for uni, because they have a project together, or something, but Barty has caught that stupid jock ogling his best friend more times than he can count.

And there's also that one time he climbed Regulus' dorm window a bit earlier than he had said he would, and had seen the rugby dude lifting his shirt for some unknown reason and Regulus touch his abs with a ridiculous amount of awe. Like it was the first he was seeing a human body.

Barty still wishes he had recorded it. Regulus keeps trying to gaslight him about it but he knows what he saw. Unfortunately. He still has nightmares.

The point is that Regulus needed him out of there, and Barty also had jumped at the chance of getting away. It was fun, at first, interrupting their alone time and being the target of all those murderous glares Dave—or whatever his name is—kept sending his way. But it was beginning to grow old. The fear of Regulus poisoning his food or choking him in his sleep was getting a bit too real—he gets so cranky when he's horny but doesn't get any.

It's not like it's Barty's fault. He used to take care of that for Reg, because he's a great friend like that, but, well, after that one incident of Barty eating Regulus out and Regulus moaning that stupid jock's name, he refuses to lend him a hand anymore. Literally.

Not being able to rely on Regulus' dorm room, Barty needed money, and he needed it fast. So, technically, it had started with the disinheritance. Because like everything else in Barty's life that goes wrong, of course his father is somehow to blame.

Although, and watching the angel straddling his hips and who's about to slit his throat open, Barty isn't sure he'd say this is going exactly wrong.

"As much as I'm enjoying this, blondie," Barty starts, voice a little strained. "I think the scalpel and the whole threatening my life is a little unnecessary. We can have a conversation like grown ups—"

The angel presses the tool against Barty's skin a bit harder, abit deeper, and he has to bite his tongue to repress a groan when he feels the first drops of blood trickle down his neck.

Is this doing it for him? Really? It's not the weirdest thing that has managed to turn him on, but it's about to get very awkward if he pops a boner all of a sudden.

"Or not," Barty rushes to add, chuckling hoarsely. "We can totally talk like this. The dirt is actually pretty comfortable, and it's such a lovely night. I'd dare to say it's even kinda romantic."

The angel tilts his head to the side, brown emotionless eyes blinking down at him. "Are you flirting with me?"

Blondie's voice is empty, lacking any form of inflexion, but so smooth and so soft it's genuinely doing things to Barty.

"Depends. Is it working?"

He blinks at Barty again. Somehow, the gesture looks more condescending this time. The angel cuts him a bit more, and Barty hisses.

"What do you think?"

"I'm taking that as a maybe," Barty retorts, managing a little smirk.

Barty really has no survival instinct. He might actually die tonight, and yet his brain doesn't seem to be able to get with the program.

Not like Barty can blame it. If his killer looks this pretty, then he has no complaints. Or not as many as he should, at least.

"You were nosing around my grave," the angel states, squinting his eyes slightly. "Why."

"Your grave? I don't know if that's right, blondie, you look quite alive to me—"

The angel exhales loudly through his nose, and then moves the blade to the side of Barty's throat, as if getting ready to properly cut.

"Wait, wait," he exclaims, attempting to grab blondie's wrist and then remembering both of his hands are being crashed by his own back. "Before you murder me, let me explain..."

He pauses, leaves the sentence hanging and stares up at the angel with what he hopes are convincing puppy eyes. They've never worked on Regulus, but then again, he's a heartless man who only gets moved by his Prada slippers, so it doesn't really count.

Blondie doesn't say anything, just continues watching him with the most deadpan expression Barty has ever seen in his life. But his throat is only bleeding just a little, and he's still alive, so he'll take it as a win.

"I didn't know it was your grave, blondie," he assures him, and it feels a bit weird, not having to lie to defend himself. Most of the time, he's done whatever they're accusing him of and worse. "Really. Maybe you should put some sort of sign, something that actually stakes your claim, so people like me don't get confused—"

"You shouldn't be digging up graves anyway," the angel cuts him off with a pointed look.

Barty arches an eyebrow. "I'm not sure how I feel about a bloke who's literally threatening me with a scalpel judging what I decide to do with my free time."

"You said you were gonna explain and I'm not listening to any explanations." The angel rolls his eyes so hard Barty is momentarily concerned. "My hand is getting sore."

"You know how it'd feel less sore? If you dropped that cute little knife, or at least put it away from my face—"

"You have thirty seconds to talk before I cut your neck open."

"Okay, okay!" Barty sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. "It really was nothing personal, blondie. I just needed a body, a recent one, with all its organs intact, so I could sell them for an insane amount of money and pay for a room in the uni accommodation."

The angel finally looses the grip on the scalpel, the pressure becoming bearable. "You're digging up graves because you're broke?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Barty confirms with a shrug. "It's easy money. And I have experience digging up graves." He stops for a second and then he adds, "don't ask."

"I wasn't going to."

"So? Truce?"

Blondie gives another one of his slow blinks. "Not yet. How good are you with dismemberments?"

Barty doesn't miss a beat. "As in, having enough stomach to watch them or doing them myself?"

"Both."

"Quite good, I'd say. If I have the right tools, that is."

"I can provide them."

"Can you? Really?" Barty questions with a lazy smile. "Why would a cute, murderous thing like you need someone who knows how to dismember bodies for?"

"That's none of your business," the angel replies, raising his chin. "It's just for a little project I'm working on."

A project that includes referring to random graves as yours? That needs dead bodies' limbs?

Oh, this guy is absolutely batshit insane.

Barty wants him so ridiculously bad he's starting to get dizzy.

"You can have the organs," blondie adds, after Barty takes a little too long to answer. What can he say, he's a little busy fantasising about bending the angel in half and having his way with him. "They're of no use to me. I only need the limbs. And a head."

"Tempting," Barty admits, nodding. "But the question is, can you afford to hire my services?"

The angel finally puts the scalpel in his jacket's pocket, sitting up slightly and crossing his arms over his chest oncee the blade is away. "Afford? An amateur grave-digger's fee can't be that high, especially when you're this desperate. I'm sure I have enough money to—"

"Woah, woah, no one said anything about money, blondie. That's what selling organs illegally is for," Barty chuckles, squirming until he can free his hands from behind him. Still, he's gentle enough to not jostle the angel in his lap too much.

"Then?"

"A kiss?" Barty bats his lashes for good measure.

Blondie glares at him for a few long seconds, and when Barty is about to laugh it off, assure the other boy he was just joking and simply agree to his insane business proposal, the angel leans down.

Barty is sure that blondie only intended it for it to be a peck, but he's nothing if not an opportunist, and the moment the other boy's lips touch his, he rushes to deepen the kiss. Surprisingly, the angel allows it, opening up his mouth all sweetly when Barty licks at the seam teasingly, and tangling their tongues together.

He lets Barty explore a little, shuddering when he hums lowly into his eager mouth, but then he pulls away, the back of his hand coming up and rubbing furiously at his lips.

It's too dark to tell, but Barty could almost swear the angel is a bit flustered.

"Happy?" he grumbles, slightly muffled.

"Very much so," Barty says, not bothering to hide his shit-eating grin. "That's only the payment for a limb, though, blondie. So, if you need more..."

"It's Evan," the other boy correct him with a huff, finally putting his hand away from his lips. "And don't push it. I have to see how good you are first."

"Barty," he introduces himself in response, offering a handshake that Evan accepts, if a little begrudgingly. "I can assure you, I won't disappoint."

#silly little drabbles #rosekiller #s tag

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! If it's okay to request could you do another part of this request (Elita One's twin sister w/ Sg Blackarachnia)?

The reactions/interactions of Starscream's clones;

Or Reactions/Interactions of Dinobots (you can add other bots/cons, Wreck-gar, Soundwave, or other)?

also, if it's okay to make one of them as a separate request?

(PS. I apologize if I’ve been putting in a lot of requests. feel free to reject this. Also, take your time, and thank you so much!)

The Queen is back!

The second part of this request is coming soon, don't worry!

Hope you enjoy!

Elita One's Twin sister reaction from Dinobots and Wreck-Gar

SFW, Platonic, Hinted romance, Cybertronain (techno organic) reader

TFA

Set Pre- Sentinel and Elita reunion.

Buddy needed some space.

She and Megatron had gotten into a petty argument that day.

What was it about? She couldn’t tell you.

She just knew that she was angry and well she was good at holding grudges.

Was fighting with the Decepticon leader the smartest thing to do? Probably not

But she knew Megatron, he wasn’t that kind of mech towards her.

She decided to leave the base at night and go on an evening stroll.

Buddy walking by the docks still a bit fuming.

“Stinkin’ Megatron… and his arrogant, dumb face… and big frame… and lovely red optics… I’m losing it, aren’t I?”--Buddy

“I’m losing it!”

Buddy jumping nearly 20 feet in the air.

“Who’s there?!”--Buddy

Figure on the junk ship waving.

“I’m losing it!”

“…”--Buddy

Buddy swung up to the ship and made her way towards the figure.

She was surprised to see a mech sitting in the center of the pile playing around with the junk.

Buddy asked if he needed help.

He just starts playing with junk.

That’s when Buddy noticed his pede stuck on one of the ships gears.

How wasn’t he in pain!? At least complaining?

“Primus how aren’t you scream?!”--Buddy

“I can scream if you want!”—Wreck-Gar

“Maybe don’t do that.”--Buddy

Buddy pulling on his pede over and over again trying to get it out.

One last pull, Buddy yanked it out landing on another pile of junk.

The mech belly flopping on the junk next to Buddy.

“This is fun! Fun! Fun! Wreck-Gar having the best time with new friend!”—Wreck-Gar

“Wreck-Gar? Is that your name?”--Buddy

“Yes! I am Wreck-Gar and I Dare to be Stupid!”—Wreck-Gar

“… well, you’re not wrong I guess.”--Buddy

“And you are?”—Wreck-Gar

“Oh, I’m Buddy.”--Buddy

“Buddy? Buddy. Buddy!”—Wreck-Gar

“Yes, that’s my—”--Buddy

Wreck-Gar stands up and marches around happily.

“I like the sound! Buddy! Buddy! Buddy! Buddy!”—Wreck-Gar

Wreck-Gar gets down on one knee in front of Buddy.

Buddy backs up a bit with the most surprised look on her face.

Wreck-Gar pulls out a little box from his subspace.

“Wreck-Gar! What are you doing?”--Buddy

Meanwhile with Megatron…

Megatron tossing and turning a bit in his berth.

His servos clenched into fists.

Back at the docks…

Wreck-Gar opens the little box revealing two friendship bracelets.

“Buddy, will you make me the happiest bot on this junk pile… and be my Best Buddy for life!”—Wreck-Gar

Buddy sighing with so much relief, slipping the bracelet into her subspace.

“Sure Wreck-Gar, I’ll be your friend.”--Buddy

Back at the Decepticon base…

Megatron sighing so hard he falls back to sleep.

The two talked for a bit more before Buddy decided to start heading home.

Wreck-gar simply waves bye before going back to his junk crafts.

Strange bot indeed.

She continued her walk when she heard a bunch of footsteps heading her way.

Quickly she hid in one of the open cargo containers.

It was fine.

Until they closed the door.

Sure, Buddy could have easily gotten out, but she didn’t want to freak out the human dock workers.

The best ones were hard to find now a days and she didn’t want them to suffer for her mistake. She thought to herself that it would be fine if she stayed there for a bit.

She could go for a nap anyways.

Buddy thought she slept for a couple of minutes max.

Not an entire hour!

Buddy rubbing her helm a bit while sitting in the container.

“Maybe I should get more sleep… Nah.”--Buddy

Buddy looks around the container.

“I should probably start opening the—”--Buddy

SNAP!

Suddenly she felt the entire container go on its side and a short free fall before it hit the ground.

Buddy now truly freaked out kicked the opening, shattering its locks and ran out.

She was not expecting to find herself waist deep in water.

Carefully she wadded to the nearby shoreline.

Once she got to the shore, she panted a bit before looking back at her old container.

The chains that were supposed to be holding the container were rusty and broken.

Maybe they snapped while the ship was out.

Good news for Buddy, the ship didn’t travel too far.

Bad news for Buddy, she couldn’t swim to shore.

The downside to having an organic part.

She figured that she would radio in for help in a bit.

Afterall, she hadn’t been on this island before. Maybe there was a new type of bird or cute animal she had seen in those nature documentaries.

So, she wandered into the bush.

It wasn’t as exciting as she thought it would be, but it was defiantly a nice spot to come to clear one’s mind.

A mighty roar pierced the once tranquil night.

Buddy nearly jumped out of her frame when she heard it.

She turned to run the other way when the roar came back sounding more in pain.

…curse her medical coding…

That thing was going to get her in trouble one of these days.

She carefully trekked deeper into the bush following the sounds of the anguished roar.

Buddy was not expecting other Cybertronians.

Certainly not ones who had animal alt modes.

It did make her feel a bit comfortable seeing other ‘odd’ alt modes out there. Sure, they were techno organic like her, but still, it was nice.

If she remembered the one movie about Dinosaurs correctly the two bots on the side were a Pteranodon and a Triceratops. The hulking figure laying on the ground behind them was a T-Rex.

The smaller ones took notice of Buddy and stood in front of the larger being.

Like they were protecting it.

Buddy raising her servos in the air.

“I mean no harm.”--Buddy

The two dinos look at her confused.

“Umm… I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help.”--Buddy

Dinos look at each other, hesitantly, before making a way for Buddy to come in.

Buddy makes her way to the hulking T-Rex laying on the floor in the pain.

Buddy starts walking around slowly inspecting him.

“My name is Buddy. I’m here to help you.”--Buddy

The mech huffs in pain.

Buddy scans his joints.

“I like your alt modes. Having a car alt mode is overrated.”--Buddy

The mech huffed again, but it sounded more amused.

Then she found the problem.

A thick branch had wedged itself in between some of his important joints.

With one swift motion, she took out the branch.

The mech then stood up testing his joints.

Then he transformed and the others followed.

… Buddy was really hating how small she was right now.

The biggest one looked down at her and patted her back strut so hard she was sure that something came out of place.

Buddy trying to recover from the pat on the back.

“You’re welcome big guy.”--Buddy

“Grimlock better thanks to you! Grimlock strong again!”--Grimlock

“Grimlock? Is that your name?”--Buddy

Grimlock nods and points to the others.

“That Swoop! He flies highest! Other is Slag! He shortest of Dinobots! Me Grimlock the strongest and King of Dinobots!”--Grimlock

Buddy just trying to soak in everything.

Grimlock picks Buddy up and places her on his shoulder.

“Grimlock!”--Buddy

“Buddy now part of Dinobots.”--Grimlock

“Wait what?”--Buddy

The four of them walked further into the bush talking and having good laughs.

They did this until Buddy realized that dawn was fast approaching.

She asked if Swoop could give her a ride back to the mainland to go home.

They weren’t happy that she was going home, but Buddy promised to visit them as much as she could.

This seemed to make them happy enough.

Swoop was careful flying her and landing on the docks before returning.

Buddy walked into the base as the sun was coming up.

Thank goodness everyone was still in their habsuites.

Buddy finally saw her beautiful berth and fell face first on it.

She sighed a bit before finally closing her optics.

Buddy opens her habsuite taking in the sight of her lovely berth.

She smiles as she faceplates on it, sighing, and closing her optics.

SLAM!

Lugnut burst into her door.

“WHAT IS IT!?”--Buddy

“Why aren’t you in the med bay? You are usually there by now.”--Lugnut

“… So, you decided to come to my room and wake me up… because I wasn’t up?”--Buddy

“Umm… yes?”--Lugnut

“…”--Buddy

Buddy gets up from her berth slowly walks up to Lugnut.

“Buddy?”--Lugnut

Buddy swiftly picks up Lugnut over her helm and starts marching down to the main room.

“Buddy unhand me!”--Lugnut

“Quiet Lugnut or I will throw you across the room.”--Buddy

“Hehe, I’d like to see you try.”--Lugnut

Everyone just stares at Buddy holding Lugnut above her helm and throws him across the room.

Buddy turns to everyone.

“I will be in my room for the next four hours. No. One. Is to disturb me unless it is a life-or-death situation.”--Buddy

Buddy turns on her heels and marches back to her habsuite and slams the door.

“…”--Everyone

Starscream looks at Megatron.

“That’s who has your spark in a chokehold?”--Starscream

“Ye—No!”--Megatron

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfa x reader #tfa wreck gar #tfa dinobots x platonic reader #Elita One's twin sister

[luveternals]

paring: 1. john 'soap' mactavish x top male reader, implied soap x ghost (spoiler: if you ship them, sorry) rating: mature, MDNI cw: death, blood, depiction of killing, mention of war, major character death(i guess), morally grey reader, obsession, non explicit sexual content. tell me if I missed anything else. disclaimer: all mistakes are my own. I never played cod. I don't know bananas about the military. and i'm not doing research bc I literally don't have the time to fall into another rabbit hole... ⁓ ⁓ ⁓

Just watch from afar. You tell yourself. You will not get anything other than that. Because you know if you dare to get too close, there’s a chance it won’t end well.

You lean against the railing, sweat dump hair sticking to your forehead. He is on the other side of the training grounds, muscles working as he tackles his opponent to the ground.

The grin spreading across his plush lips. The look of surprise that replaces it when the other flips their position. The loud, beaming laugh that bubbles from deep inside his chest when they clap hands, and he gets pulled back onto his feet.

Gorgeous.

Someone calls your name, and when you snap out of whatever trance you’ve fallen, you find you’ve moved closer to the scene at some point.

You shake your head and redirect your body to the person demanding your attention. Your new captain waves his hand at you.

It hasn't been more that a few days since you've been reassigned, landed away like an object, and already they are sending you out with a squad you know nothing of aside from the little written info given to you before you moved to this new base.

You figure they don’t care for tests when the results are destined to be useless in the face of real life.

You only have time to glance over your shoulder, and he’s already leaving, walking further and further away from you. And you suppose there's never been any chance for him to ever notice you to begin with.

-

The building as eerily quiet, nothing like the deafening chaos that had broken the moment your squad had revealed itself to the enemy.

There is a body laying at your feet, eyes staring emptily at the ceiling while the hole between them drips gore into the dusty floor. The gun in your hand is cold despite the echoing ‘bang’ still ringing in your ears.

“All clear,” a voice whispers into your earpiece. “Meet you at exfil, everyone,” another adds.

The face of your victim is smooth, years away from any wrinkles. You pause for a second, taking in every detail.

The gun burns in your trembling grip despite the gloves, blood pooling at your feet. He hadn’t been wearing a helmet, terror now frozen in his empty gaze. His inexperience showed in his lack of scares and wrinkles, expression made macabre with the fresh hole shot between his eyes.

“Was that your first?” someone had asked when you made it to exfil and found your seat in your team’s assigned vehicle. You didn’t bother answering, they had their own regardless.

Your first kill. You tucked your gun away and ignored it for the rest of the ride.

You step out of the building, clothes sticky with wet filth and feet leaving dark stains into the ground. But the gun is steady in your hands, the next bullet ready to be fired. The mess left behind is nothing but an unfortunate aftermath.

“What a face,” someone from your team says the moment you find yourself at exfil, “seen the devil?”

“The last kid I killed,” you say with a hum, “iIt reminded me of the first time I shot someone.”

“Your first kill was just a kid?”

You don’t bother to give an answer.

-

It’s three years later that you meet him officially.

You’ve never dared to get anywhere close to him, and simply learned about him instead.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish.

Nothing about him changed. To say he seems to have walked out of your memories it’s an understatement.

What’s different now though is the people that are part of his team.

The TF141. Who hasn’t heard of them?

Respected for their efficiency, infamous for the stories that circulate about them.

You stand to attention when you notice them making their way towards you.

The captain is the first to shake your hand, but Soap is, of course, the one that has your attention zero on him.

“I’ve heard of yah,” he says, and you have to fight the urge to beam. Has he? “Efficient, strong-willed, with nerves of steel. Say, he’s gonna be the perfect babysitter, ay Lt?”

Soap turns to beam at the looming figure that steps to stand behind him and fire burns into your vein, angry and ugly.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. The person Soap seems to be the closest to.

“You’re gonna scare him off, Johnny,” Riley only gives him an unimpressed look before shifting his attention to stare at you. Friend of foe?

It's ridiculous how the two of them standing so close sends the urge to clench your hands into fist through your body.

They’ve been a team for years now, it’s only natural for them to grow close.

Logically, that would be it. But you find yourself hating the mere idea.

“It’ll be a pleasure to work with you,” you say, gentle smile grazing your lips. It doesn’t reach your eyes and whether Soap sees it or not, you know Ghost does.

You let it spread wider until it turns into a dangerous smirk.

-

Being pinned to the floor with a gun to the temple takes you by surprise, but it’s a natural reaction before your logic replaces it. You should have seen it coming, you’ve grown overconfident in your skills during the years, too cocky even.

The odds had never been in your favor. They knew somehow of your plan and now the 141 has been sent to scatter.

You’ve lost sight of the others, your comms stolen by the enemy.

There are bodies littering the floor, abandoned weapons taking up the little remaining space.

“I’m gonna love this,” the bastard pressing you into the floor hisses into your ear.

Bang.

When it comes to a fight, skill is not the only factor that comes into play.

you jerk to the side and pain blossom through the side of your head, still you throw your weight back and the man falls off you with a surprised shout.

You jump him, elbow falling against his throat, and steal the gun from his slacked grin.

The echoing bang sends stars into your vision and splatters his brain into the floor.

You stumble onto your feet, hand flying up to press against the side of your head. The ringing against your ear makes you squint and when you feel a new presence enter the room you spin around on instinct and fire your weapon, body slamming against the wall as someone throws their weight against you.

Click.

The magazine is empty.

“I suppose I should count ourselves lucky, you and I, hmm?”

Riley is holding your knife against your throat, your gun aiming at his chin.

He slips your knife back into its holster and steps away to look around the room. “You could have stabbed the shite out of him before he’d even had the chance to shoot you. Afraid of knives or someth'?” he asks, and you know he’s making fun of you despite his mask hiding his expressions.

You pull your hand away from your head and stare at it. Blood stains the glove and drips down your face, but the bullet had only grazes at the skin of your head. “Not the kind weapon I care for.”

-

“They are made to be used,” Captain Price says through the comms. “You don’t carry them just because,” he says, and despite the disinterest Riley is currently exerting, you know he purposely had a hand in this.

“When we get back we will brush over your combat skills.”

You feel like a child, adults staring you down after they found out you haven’t done your homework. Not a soldier making his way back thorugh an abandoned building to meet with the rest of his team.

“There is no need for that, sir,” you say with a sigh.

“Then why haven’t you used it?”

No one is immune to trauma. And in some degree we all know we’re suffering from it in some way or another. We either don’t want to acknowledge it or are simply too broken by it to realize we’re under it’s influence.

You fall silent. It’s not that you don’t know how to answer. Nor is it that you’re too broken by the sweet, soulless voice that whispers into your ear like a devil on your shoulder without its angel.

It’s the fact that they would not understand. Perhaps, their gazes would soften with sympathy, perhaps they would harden with disgust.

Still, they wouldn’t understand. To do so they would have to experience it for themselves. And you know there only little chance for it to end as it did you.

And so you let them find their own answers; they have them of their own, anyway. Assumptions are good enough for it.

Like always.

-

Perhaps, you’ve lost your touch. Perhaps, it’s the alcohol easing your guard to relax, attention stolen away by the pleasurable warmth spreading through your limbs.

He can sense your eyes on him tonight. And each time he turns to meet your gaze with a confident, amused smirk.

Right now, he leans against the bar, perfect body stretching against the counter as he moves to press his lips against your ear, “is staring all you gon’do?” he purrs, hot breath sending chills down your back and straight between your legs.

You’re frozen in delighted surprise. Your voice cracks when you find it again. “It depends.”

“Hmm,” he chuckles, finger tickling up your throat to press against you Adam's apple, “on what, pray tell?”

Initial shock gone, it’s your time to smirk. You take his hand in yours and press a kiss against his palm, then run your tongue between two of his fingers. “Am I your first choice tonight?”

He falters, body going rigid at the words. His attention flicks to the side, gaze staring somewhere just past your shoulder.

You can feel the intensity of his first choice burning a hole on the back of your head.

You shove the bitterness aside and pull you man closer by the hips.

“It's okay, darling. I’ll show you how you got nothing but to gain from this.”

The way out of the pub and into your room is a blur of heat and hunger. He lets out a loud groan, gripping your shoulders as you press him against the door, lips sucking possessive marks down his throat and chest.

He flips your position and slams you against the wall, hands pulling at your clothes and lips biting against your own.

You smile and push him away. “Impatient.” with a second push he falls onto the bed, legs spread open and chest heaving with anticipation, “is this what him breaking your heart makes you feel?”

He tenses for the second time this night, hesitation washing over the lust hazing his gaze. But you're already climbing onto the bed, pulling him closer by the knees and wrapping his legs around your waist.

“Don’t worry, darling. Once I’m done with you, you won't have any energy to do anything but think of me.”

-

The air is knocked out of your opponent, back hitting the mat below your feet with a dull thump.

Soap groans and huffs out a laugh as he claps his hand into yours, and you pull him to his feet.

“Cap, I think he doesn’t need the knife after all,” he says and slips his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer, so he can grin at you. His gaze is heavier than it has ever been, touch lingering longer and longer the more he finds reasons to touch you.

“I know how to use it, It’s just not my preferred weapon,” you say, “I find using it a little too… personal.”

-

Other knives are different from the real thing. They might be duller, sharper, newer, older. But they are not the same thing.

You hold it under the moonnight, letting it shine as it reflects under it. The handle has long lost its colors, the design dulled and smoothed over by time and use.

You circle your hand around it and for some reason it feels out of place now that it fits the shape properly, making the grip more comfortable, firmer, steadier. Your fingers feel like they don’t belong there, like they are too large now, too callous, too stained.

You let it spin around your fingers, and it moves with too much grace and elegance, too much confidence, you much will to kill.

Not like the first time you’ve welded it. When the moon shone through the window like a witness. When your fingers trembled as wet warmth spread over them. Your breath came out quicker, harsher, punching through your lungs with panic.

You were clueless back then, armed only with knowledge taken from science lessons at school. Guided by repressed rage, pushed over by fear.

Your real first kill.

The knife spins faster, only to sink into the wood of the window frame when you stab it into it.

-

Nothing is going to turn out tonight. This Is how they’ve put it when they’d sent you out on stakeout. Your presence here is a simple, mostly useless precaution.

You watch him from the table, posture leaned against the chair into a careful, lazy slump.

While you're open about your staring, he’s on the balcony, eyes scanning the streets below. Still you can feel his attention on you, muscles tense as neither of you outright acknowledges thick the tension weight over your heads.

The knife is a solid weight against in its holster, pressing flat against your thigh when you tense your leg. You reach below the table and play with the handle.

This night is not going to end like everyone expects it. You know.

He shifts his position and this time turns to meet your gaze head on, eyes scanning your expression and jaw clenching st what he finds.

Neither of you is waiting for the enemy, no. He knows.

-

141 finds you standing in the middle of the room. Gun warm in one hand. Knife stained red in the other.

Two bodies laying on the ruined carpet at your feet. Only one their foe; neither your friend.

-

They hold a funeral for him. Only his closest friends are permitted to assist. He had no family left.

They let you in when you show up with the rest of the team.

You suppose you shouden’t be surprised. They see you as the one who’d avenged their friend.

-

Soap clings to your clothes, desperate lips pressing against any part of your skin he can reach.

You try to enjoy the feeling, bask at his touch, but the salt you taste on his lips sends an old, familiar raging fire through your veins.

Despite being out of the picture he still stands in your way.

-

—

Name: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Status: KIA

His and his teammate's position had been compromised. Suspected cause of the mission failure is that someone set an ambush before their arrival on site. Attacker has been eliminated but whoever gave the information away is still to be found and caught.

—

You read through his file, brushing over the official story given to explain his death.

He should be grateful, wherever he is now in his afterlife. You’ve given him an honorable death, all things considered.

You do regret not getting your money back before getting rid of that mercenary.

Carefully, you slip the file back where it belongs, wiping away any trace that would tickle suspicion out of the most perceptive eye.

You’ve played this game for longer, than anyone could have ever guessed. The other player none other than yourself.

As you’ve known since the very beginning, you've let yourself step too close to the edge, and now it’s not your heart that’s gotten broken, by your mind.

Obsession.

You’ve fallen, and have no intention of climbing back up.

He is yours now, whether he knows it or not. He belongs to you, body, mind, and soul, whether he wants it or not.

~ ~ ~ thank you for reading! hope you liked it. tell me if there's anything I should fix, as I already said, I don't have the time to make this more accurate with research, but I'm more than open to suggestions and constructive criticism.

#story day #john soap mactavish #x top male reader #call of duty #top male reader #dom male reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #male reader #cod x reader #johnny mactavish #reader insert

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Isle landmarks

Port - divided in between three crews, heavily regarded as a very unpleasant area by, well. Almost everyone else. (Important to note: this goes for every single area of the Isle.) Lives at night a lot.

Jolly Roger of Captain James Hook

Scattered Hope of Captain Harriet Hook. Comparatively safer to be around, you might find some goods "accidentally left out" if the Captain's feeling it.

Lost Revenge of Captain Uma Triskelion. Safest of the pirate ships unless you are allied to Mal or insult Uma. (...You know what, I take that back.) Also, it's a cult.

Chipp Shoppe. Firmly under the rule of Lost Revenge.

Hook's inlet. That's a fancy name for a building that port adults go to pass out in by the morning at that brings substantial money to Captain Hook. (His kids are not allowed to work there. They kept stealing from the counter more than they sold.)

Serpents prep, aka the school Captain Hook was forced to fund after dr F refused to deal with two if his children at once. They've got sea ponies and surprisingly good curriculum.

The centre. Counts as, well, semi-neutral territory?

Tremaine salon. The only actual neutral territory on the Isle. You see, if you fight by the Tremaines, you won't get your hair done. (this works because the Villains and their kids are vain as fuck and value their style over their lives. Literally.) Also, Tremaines treat most of their customers as particularly annoying cats.

Mad Maddy's Apothecary. This could count as neutral territory but Mim's are playing favourites. One rule: Do NOT make out in the Apothecary.

Rose Garden of the Queen of Hearts. Yeah no. Do not go near if you like your life.

Dragon Hall, AKA the school Dr Facilier funded for very innocent and inconspicuous reasons that have nothing to do with the other Villains owing him for babysitting their brats and molding the young minds to his picture, how dare you even suggest that.

The Arcade. Funded by Dr F too and operated mostly by his daughters. Also no ulterior motives on this one. (If little kids don't come to school, they're at Arcade. It's always good to know where the kids you're paid to keep alive are.)

Storm Hall. A mostly abandoned building slightly off-the-centre that Isle kids use for official gang meetings.

Frollo's church. Later, it's ruins. The building has suffered from entirely natural structural instability ever since the first Isle kids learned what matches are. While Frollo's alive, it's unsafe to be around if you're a girl, person of colour, or of magical heritage.

Yes, there is a problem of Frollo's being entirely too close to Dragon Hall. Dr F had it under control! Really!

The Market. Yeah. Market. With very reasonable prices that are not theft at all.

Maleficent's Bargain Castle overlooks the market and her goblins provide security for shopkeepers who are willing to pay a steep price. No one's sure why Maleficent tolerates the market so close, she hates people.

Jafar's Junk Shop. If you lost something, there's like seventy percent chance it'll end up there. I've got nothing else to add.

Gaston's Duels Without Rules, slightly off the main market. And yes. It is without rules. Do not ask about the blood under the dumpsters please.

Hell Hall. Few streets down but still close enough, you'll know by the screaming. Close enough for Cruella and her minions to get the finest fabrics whenever she wishes.

Witches Academy. Yes, it is entirely too close to the market for how flammable the stands are. However, the Mims are doing what they do best and being bitches on main.

Landmarks

The End Of The World. Steep cliff on the off-side of Auradon, favourite hang-out spot for Isle kids. Who says they hadn't spent hours there looking into the waves and contemplating life, they're lying.

The Skull Rock. On the Isle for Reasons. Y'know, a generation of kids robbed off their childhood? Magic banned off? (The Isle of the Lost is Neverland and it's your problem now.)

The Jungle. No. Do NOT. You do realise that's where all the tigers and snakes and lions and wolves dwell. Also called the Zoo by kids who like dark humour and/or have a deathwish.

The Caves. There's an entrance to Hades' cave somewhere. Do not try to find it (unless you are Celia Facilier), he's on vacation and doesn't wish to be disturbed.

Other

Castle Across the Way. Is not close to the centre or the market to be counted as such. That's because the Evil Queen refused to interact with the commoners and looked substantially scarrier than Lady Tremaine while communicating that.

The Hun camp. Do NOT attempt to find it.

#disney descendants

[erisenyo]

now you’ve got me thinking about zhao and how yucky disgusting he is and we all love angst here… perhaps “did i do good?” with zhao and zuko (i refuse to say the ship name because 🤢) or maybe instead/in addition to, “you’re a weapon and weapons don’t weep”

For this prompt game! (And also this one!)

Content Warning: Zhao being a creep, implied underage, blood, implied threat of sexual coercion (no one gets hurt, it's just Zhao's POV, so.)

“Come now, Prince Zuko, it’s not like you to be so reticent.”

“Fuck you, you stupid worthless—”

“There it is,” Zhao sighs, enjoying the fury in the little demon’s voice, the nice contrast it makes to the impotent way he keeps twisting against the metal cuffs holding his hands behind his back and anchored to the wall.

“I knew you had an opinion somewhere in you, you always do,” Zhao smirks, delighted when the little brat actually hisses at him. “You researched is so extensively, after all,” he says, making his tone sympathetic even as he feels a rush of satisfaction at the way those gold eyes track him around the room, exactly as it should be. Zhao is the one to watch, Zhao is the power in the room.

And now Prince Zuko will know it. Will acknowledge it. Agni, the way the boy had been so dismissive of Zhao’s suggestion to share information, dismissing of him—

“All that time wallowing in backwater ports and begging for scraps of rotten parchment,” Zhao muses, shaking his head, “And where did it get you?” he lets a curl of the amused pleasure he feels enter his voice for the way it makes the little brat spit and jerk against his restrains again. “Captured trying to break into an allied Earth Kingdom noble’s house, bound like the common criminal you apparently are, and chained up awaiting my authority.

“So tell me, Zuko,” he says, letting his voice go hard, “What do you think now? Did I do good? Up to your standards?” he hisses, shoving the boy back against the wall and thrilling at the startled grunt it gets him, at how easy it is, at the way he can just keep his hand against the brat’s chest and press. “Did I do it the way you would have, Prince?”

“Don’t touch me,” the brat snaps, jerking once, uselessly, chin up and somehow managing to look down his nose like he isn’t panting for breath under Zhao’s spread hand. “You’re a coward, is what you are,” he spits. Clearly the worst insult he can come up with, Zhao thinks, amused. “A lazy, worthless coward who’s done nothing to deserve—”

“Tsk tsk,” Zhao interrupts, fire thrilling at the indignation on the boy’s face at the interruption. “This conduct is quite unbecoming a prince, don’t you think? I would have thought your dear uncle would have educated you better than that,” he chides for the pleasure of watching the brat’s expression screw up in outrage. Always so expressive. It always makes Zhao want to see what other faces he can drag out of him. “Or at the very least your father.” Oh, that was a good one, and the way Zhao can feel the boy’s chest hitch— “You should know by now that a true leader delegates,” he says, greedily watching the brat’s face as he adds, delicate, “Though some lessons…”

“You—you—fuck you, don’t—you don’t dare talk about the Fire Lord that way,” the brat snarls, nearly spitting sparks as he struggles with renewed vigor, shoulders moving as he twists against the cuffs behind his back, straining back against Zhao’s hand with such lovely, useless fury. “My father—”

“Yes, what would your father say?” Zhao interrupts, sliding his hand up the brat’s chest, excitement pulsing in his fire at the way the boy cuts himself off. “When I return with information on not just the Avatar, but the weakness of the Northern Water Tribe?” The information on the Avatar being next to worthless, of course, which makes it all the more delicious how desperately the little demon chases after it.

“Do you think he’ll offer his thanks and admiration?” Zhao murmurs, letting his fingers gentle as they drift up the boy’s neck, feeling the rapid beat of his pule.

“Will he think I’m worthy?” Zhao runs his thumb over the lower ridge of the scar, fascinated to see it so close. Agni, the ridges and dips of it, the force that must have been used, the way the boy just knelt there and took it—

“Will he tell me I’ve earned great honor?” Zhao smirks, tone pitched low, enjoying the naked hate in the boy’s eyes, enjoying the impotence of it, the thrill of having something so wild and dangerous trapped, forced into submission by him.

“I’m willing to share, you know,” Zhao murmurs, leaning in, excitement twisting in his gut at the way he can hear the boy breathing fast and tight. “For a price, of course, you know how these things work” he adds, inhaling deep like he can smell the fear, closing his eyes to savor it. “I know your ship’s budget is small—” he traces the edge of the scar, fire itching to gather in his hand. “—but I’m sure we could come to some sort of arrange—”

Zhao cries out as pain suddenly explodes through his nose, reeling back and tripping over the chair he’d set up to in front of the prince in case he wanted to take his time, blinking in disorientation and realizing that the brat headbutted him.

“You little shit,” Zhao spits, taking in the blood trickling down the boy’s face as he glares back, the brat breathing hard and triumphant and clearly not understanding his current position. “You are going to regret that,” Zhao promises, wiping blood off his face. His nose fucking broken, and Zhao was willing to show mercy, but now—

“Prince,” Zuko snaps, enough growling command in the tone that Zhao pulls up short before he can catch himself, rage sparking in his chest at the satisfaction on Zuko’s face as he catches the motion. Zhao snarls back, hauling himself to his feet only to pull up short again at the sudden clank of metal on metal, one heavy cuff hitting the floor as fire blooms in the boy’s suddenly free hand.

“That’s Crown Prince little shit, to you,” Zuko snarls, Zhao scrambling the rest of the way to his feet and calling his own fire, knowing that fire to fire he far outclasses the brat.

Except the sneaking little demon has no honor, not even the pride and decency of the lowest of firebenders as the chain comes out swinging instead, the brat fighting more like a feral creature than anything human, let alone anything that claims to be royal, as he throws himself at Zhao with the single-minded intensity and disregard his own self of the truly insane and Zhao should have never sent his men from the room, should have known the little fuck would be more trouble than he was—

Zhao goes down, flat on his back, the kind of fall firebenders are trained never to take. And Zhao has plenty of training, and in any decent fight he’d have more than enough time to swing back to his feet even with the breath knocked out of him by the fall and the brat’s ridiculous kick—

But this isn’t a decent fight, it’s a common brawl. And the little demon slams into him with enough force to slam Zhao’s head back down against the metal decking.

“Don’t worry, Captain,” the little demon pants, crouched on Zhao’s chest and grinning like some savage, blood on his teeth and dripping down onto Zhao’s face. “I’ll make sure to tell everyone exactly how good you did,” he promises, his chain-wrapped fist swinging down the last thing Zhao sees.

#asks and answers #ask game #Truly just content warning for Zhao POV. He is a messed up man #Zuko #Zhao #Implied one-sided Zhao/Zuko #fic writing #my writing

[sane-omblog]

My MCs! (NB design)

Neros(whatever prns) thought being with Zeri will help him with the attendant duty but it all turned out opposite...

Zerios(He/Him) aware that he add more work but it look fun so it won't hurt, right? He will help them clean up afterward!

Neros' name us just me trying to extend my name by added random syllabus and I like this one best

while Zeri's I want it to be twisted from the word serious bc he is not serious at all (also it can be read both as Zee-rios and Zeh-ri-os he himself not even sure what's correct)

Ship name

#neromeon (Neros × Simeon)

#zeromon (Zerios × Solomon)

Funfacts!

They are cousins! And Neros is older than Zeri by 2 years

Neros got the choker from Solomon to prevent them from turning to a sheep and Zeri got bracelet

In demon form, they're both tail-demon!

Neros is a dog person, Zeri is a cat person but they are both inu-kei

Neros is glorifying Simeon too much that they don't dare to touch him(or looking in his eyes) meanwhile Zeri is too fond of every kind of physical affection that first thing he does is hug Solomon

Zeri love oversized clothes and any easy-to-wear clothes so his every day looks is just some sweater with sun on it

They both have terrible handwriting...

Neros chose this clothes bc they think the leash thingy looks cool, later find it useful to punish the brothers

Zerios loves when Solomon call him just Zeri (he do only when they're alone)

Neros is tone deaf, and they can't even clap the hand in rhythm for happy birthday song. Zeri also need it to be vey obvious to tell the difference.

Another differ is Zeri has it better by he can tell that the there's a noise in voice or this person has higher voice but Neros can use their sense to tell(most of it is wrong tho)

Zeri kinda got bad taste bud so he's not picky(and willingly eat Solomon's food) but Neros got weak stomach and upset it easily so they're a picky eater

In swd Neros has longer hair and Zeri has it shorter but they cuts it at the end bc the weather matter tho Zeri is too lazy to.

They both dyed their hair(Zeri naturally has brown hair and dye it highlighted)

#MC; Neros #MC; Zerios #obey me mc #obey me nightbringer #art

[nrhshm]

Heyy! Idk if this is where you’re supposed to request so I apologize if it isn’t. I was wondering if you could write something about Zoro and a pregnant s/o??? Only if you’re comfortable with that ofc! Thank you 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Sup anon. Ask are open yeah~ I'll get with it quickly🤭🤭

.

Zoro with a pregnant S/o

.

○ S/o taken female

● Spoiler free

○ Sfw

.

A heartless beast of a swordsman? Not till his s/o shows him the positive pregnancy test... oh boy-

° You will be his one and only priority at the moment, postpone the swordsman dream for a bit, he needs to make sure you're safe at all times. Piercing eyes will follow you at all times, the moment you trip over something, he'd race to keep you away from the harsh impact. Some good ol' scolding will happen soon after, one smile from you and this tsundere's face will never get colder. He can't stay mad at you for too long, and you know that pretty well.

° Zoro will stand against his s/o wanting to leave the ship,

"I told you no! Anything you want I'll get it for you."

"You think I can rely on your sense of direction?"

"Oi!! I said I'll do it!"

"But the things I wanna buy are uh... personal."

"So? Just list them for me and I'll be off. Bandits are everywhere, I can't let you and our child get hurt."

° He will also be your self-employed bodyguard next to you, smaking Luffy to the head whenever he steals food from you, and his captain grumbly obliges.

° Sounds pretty uptight no? Wait till you hear the actual fluff.

° Napping will most definitely shoot up, there's just something about wraping his bulky hands around your overgrown belly that gives him comfort, he instantly relaxes and gets intune with the embryo's movements. Soon enough, a smile sneaks onto his lips, feeling a sense of protectiveness over his soon-to-become family. The moment you came into his life was something he recalls fondly, as clear as the day. And now, he has a new upcoming set of memories to add to his album.

° During nap times, Zoro's thoughts will drift off to baby names. What should they be called? Whether it's a boy or a girl, he knows that they'll take on the name of Roronoa, and the pride of a swordsman, they'll grow up under his care and influence.

'How far-fetched...' Zoro's smile grows. The baby's not even born and he's already thinking about their future! No. He doesn't want to ruin their childhood like that, he'll try to help them naturally grow, learn and live their life to the fullest.

° Pirates and Marines are sworn enemies, so expect Marines to be tracking the Strawhats and attacking them on the spot. Once the first cannon hits the Sunny, Zoro's attention whips to you. You fall with a hard impact on the ground, a nasty marine approaching you, Zoro's eyes widen in rage, and at this point he gets all yandere and instantly slaughters that asshole daring to lay a hand on you. Soon after all is said and done, the strawhats race towards your figure. Chopper takes the lead and immediately checks your body for injuries, then drags you to his infirmary for pregnancy checkups. The marimo, guilt and anger overwhelming him, leans on the door of that same room, patiently waiting for the said results. He'd refrain from eating, a dumbell in hand as he brings you a well cooked palate Sanji has made, swallowing in his heating rivalry with the cook and asking him for more.

° Zoro will NEVER leave your side. The moment you went into labor, he immediately rushed to find Chopper. You were in pain, and all that Zoro could do was hold your hand and whisper reassuring words to ease off the pain.

"You're strong, you're strong Y/n. You can pull through, come on-"

Of course, count on the ship's doctor to get things perfectly done, a wailing baby held gently in his arms. Chopper grins proudly at his achievement and hands the baby over to you, the crying mother as you hold you new bundle of joy as close as you can. Chopper cleans up and leaves to call in the others, Zoro on the other hand, was bewildered. You watch his widened eyes, his parted lips and rigid figure. It's his first time going through such an experience and let me say, he's a total mess of emotions.

You hold the child towards him, through your fatigue you manage to smile weakly. And he immediately rushes to your side, a hand holding yours, and the other carefully cradling the newest addition to the strawhats. The baby is instantly pacified in his fathers arms, clinging onto his shirt tighter. And almost reflexively, Zoro's other arm holds the baby closer to him, the feeling of protectiveness washing over him.

Flashbacks kick back in, that time you got injured by the marines, that time he failed to protect you both. His family, his new reason to fight and live. He grips the bed railings tighter, fist shaking and breaths getting deeper. A new resolve pinned to his billboard of thoughts, a new alteration to his mighty goal of his journey.

"I will become the world's greatest swordsman, to protect my family."

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece scenario #one piece fanart #one piece fic #op zoro #one piece zoro #ronoroa zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #pirate hunter zoro #zoro x reader #one piece strawhats #straw hats pirates #strawhatday #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy #mugiwara no luffy #one piece nami #ussop #straw hat sanji

[i-mybrunettelady]

scenes of an arson site

Summary: Pact airships go down, taken by Mordremoth's vines. Elandrin is on one of them. Content warnings: mentions of violence and all around bad times. Spoilers: HoT

I

It starts with a headache. 

Then there’s screaming. Thorns, so much fucking screaming. 

And then the airships go down. 

II

It takes him a minute to realize he’s conscious again. His eyes refuse to see clearly, so he closes them. He’s not in this primordial darkness anymore - there’s light, so much light around him, flashes of color, sounds he can’t parse out. His mind feels heavy. 

A thud of footsteps. A person comes close. “Is he awake?” He can’t say who asks the question. It’s all a jumbled mess. 

“Looks like it. He isn’t still anymore.” 

“Maybe he lost his marbles, like the rest of them.” 

“Spirits, no! Shut it! Arcanist Elandrin, are you with us? Can you hear me?”

Elandrin.. Elandrin.. That’s a cool name. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He squints at the all-consuming daylight and mouths the name again. Elandrin.. Elandrin.. 

Something in his mind tugs as realization sharply comes. Elandrin screams as he’s suddenly thrown back into his body that lays in his own sap, his ribs burn, and the tug holds for a bit until there’s a hand on his forehead and he slumps down again, panting like a sylvan hound. 

“Told you he’s with us,” a norn woman voices. Elandrin looks at her. She has blood on her face. “Here, drink some water.” She makes a face. “Plants need water, don’t they?” 

He swallows the cold liquid greedily and loudly. A bird screams above him. It smells like ash, blood, fire, and cooked meat. His hands scramble to get a hold of the flask as he downs the rest of it. 

“What the fuck happened?” he croaks and frowns at how wretched his voice sounds. He’s covered in a blanket; he feels the remaining pieces of his torn homegrown clothes tickle his bare bark. He assumes the blanket is more for modesty than for warmth. Have these people never seen a dick before? He dares not laugh at their moral constraints, if only because he knows it’ll sound like he’s choking.

“Oh! You’re awake!” a human woman in Vigil gear turns with a disapproving face. “Are you one of them?” 

“One of who, for fuck’s sake?” 

“You planty fuckers all went insane on that ship and almost killed us all!” the human all but yells and Elandrin snickers. 

“I am not fucking insane, you dimwit. I have no idea what’s going on, but I do know that my ribs hurt and that I need a mender.” He looks around and sees he’s the only sylvari in the camp. Aside from the yelling bitch, there’s a norn woman who gave him the flask, a bald asura with yellow eyes, and another norn, who’s cradling a broken arm. 

“Go find one yourself, you wretched Mordrem,” she adds and Elandrin sits up harshly, only to bend forward as the sharp pain pierces his ribs. His mind aches with a new weight he knows hasn’t been there before. Part of him wants to be afraid, but he’s too offended to care about it. 

Him, a Mordrem? Him, a sylvari, a Dreamer, secondborn of the Pale Tree, to serve Mordremoth of all things?! Him, an ugly monster? 

“Juliana, stop,” the norn woman says wearily and extends her hands to help him lay down. He shakes his head and groans his way onto the ground. “He isn’t a Mordrem. He’s one of us. If he was, he would’ve killed us right away.” She laughs nervously. “Wouldn’t be an issue for an elementalist of his caliber.” 

“What’s your name?” Elandrin asks the norn woman. 

“Skadi. Skadi Runarskin.” 

“Mm, and which order?”

“Priory, Arcanist. I.. I attended your classes on fire elemental magic techniques before the airships sailed.” He looks at her, and her big, wide eyes and the dark circles under them. Brown hair sticks to her forehead. Her face is utterly unmemorable. 

“And where are the airships now?” 

Skadi waves her hands. “Gone,” she says with a gravel in her voice. “Vines came from the sky and dragged us down. Sylvari on board, they.. They started screaming and attacking people. I don’t remember much.” 

Neither does he. All he remembers is the falling and the screaming. “Huh,” he says. “Unless Juliana shuts her mouth up like a good little girl, I will start attacking too.” 

Juliana growls. “If I ever see a sign, I’m killing you.” 

“Just try.” 

Oh, but his body’s tired. He lies back, feels his ribs throb, and blinks at the sun. 

I can make it stop hurting. 

The fact the voice isn’t his own should scare him. But he’s too tired to be scared. The tug lessens and he falls into a temporary, dreamless sleep. 

III

The man with the broken hand is the first to go. His death was quick, or so Elandrin saw. They’d attracted a Mordrem ambush; thankfully, there were so few of them, now ashes on the sparkly, green grass, but they got the guy well before they could become so. All it took was one swing and he was gone. 

He had no chances anyways. 

They’re making a burial for him. Elandrin never really understood burials, the same way he doesn’t understand namedays or marriage. Or surnames. He chooses to sit while they recite some meaningless words for his soul, Skadi, Juliana and the asura, and watch. The dead norn’s gear is so ill-fitted that Elandrin can only steal the shirt that reaches his knees, but it’s solid gear. As solid as gear comes when you’re lost in the jungle, anyways. 

“Raven guide your spirit, my friend,” Skadi whispers. Elandrin wonders why she’s sad. She hardly knew him. And even if she did, he’s a casualty of war. Grief has no place here. He thinks of Trahearne, and swallows a lump in his throat. 

Where is his friend, anyway? 

“They will find us here,” he says. Juliana looks at him. She looks like she wants to throw her helmet at him. 

“This was our second ambush in a week,” she snaps. “You’re attracting them. You’re sending out pheromones, or whatever the fuck you plants have. They’re sensing you like a fucking dog.” 

“Sylvari don’t have pheromones, not like you people do,” he replies and presses his hand on the ground to get up. His ribs haven’t stopped hurting, but he’ll be damned if he lets them see that. “Maybe they’re hunting you.”

I can make it stop hurting. Come to me.

The voice has been a constant, too. It came after the tug; he feels like it eats parts of his mind in morsels, like pieces of Elandrin-shaped fruit, a darkness he can’t shake off, no matter how hard he tries. It sends terror down his spine at night, when his glow is the only thing keeping him away from the darkness around him. It makes him curl in on himself, in spite of the pain, and breathe in the grass and the leaves and the blood to keep him from giving into it. 

The voice promises freedom from that, too. But it doesn’t feel like his own, so he doesn’t trust it. He doesn’t trust Juliana, or Skadi, or the little armored rat. He doesn’t trust anything but the pain in his ribs, the pressure in his gut, the ache in his body, and what remains of his mind. 

Get away from me, he says to the voice. 

Then it roars and he has to bite down his hand to stop from screaming. 

Mine, mine, mine, it roars, and he cries into the grass and the leaves and the grave of a dead norn. 

“Go fuck yourself,” Juliana says. 

I can kill her for you, if you’d let me. 

Skadi cries later. Elandrin watches the light catch on her tears and feels the urge to lick them off her face. Does her blood taste sweet? His tastes like honey; his is a desert. Norn blood probably tastes like licking metal. 

Be mine, Elandrin, and you won’t have to cry anymore. The world will be yours to burn. 

He resists, and cries anyway. 

IV

The asura disappears next. Dead, alive, Elandrin doesn’t know; the fucking jungle wants to kill them, and they’re running for their lives, and his concentration is shamefully weak as is, so he’s too focused on the magical warmth on his fingertips to notice where small things are. It’s like a bug. He never bothered to learn their name either - asura names make him snarl as he’s saying them. 

They’re irrelevant, just as the leaves he’s crunching beneath his feet are irrelevant. It’s getting harder to tell the difference anyways. 

“We should go back for them,” Skadi says. Her voice sounds distorted, high, and her words are hard to make out. He’s squinting, trying to catch the features of her face. It reminds him of a tree - brown on brown on brown, like a sylvari he once knew. “They could need our help!” 

“It’s no use,” Elandrin says. His voice sounds off to his own ears; he blinks himself awake from a stupor. Skadi’s face is long and scarred, she has overgrown eyebrows and dark circles around her bloodshot eyes. “The jungle has them already.” 

“How do you know it, Arcanist?” Skadi cries, hitting her fist on the ground. “Eissa’s research isn’t yet finished! They studied dwarven magic. They had siblings back in Rata Sum. How are we supposed to go back to them and tell them Eissa is dead?” 

Eissa can be reunited with their siblings when all is returned to me. 

Elandrin digs his fingers in his ribs. The bark is dark, sensitive to touch and he growls - in pain, at the voice, he doesn’t know. 

Go fuck yourself, I’m not becoming one of yours. He vaguely recalls that sylvari can become Mordrem. His chest tightens and he looks up at the sky, the clouds, the all powerful sun, and the endless expanse of tall trees and breathes. 

He almost fits there. Those leaves up above look better than his foliage does now, decaying, half pulled out, struggling to glow the way it did. He wants to be a tree, he wants to not think, he wants to have beautiful leaves again. He catches sight of one half singed leaf and breathes out. 

He wants to have beautiful leaves again. 

“The same way we were supposed to go back to our siblings in the Grove and tell them our bodies are now their live experiment,” he says darkly. “They have to pay for that.” 

Skadi swallows. Juliana sighs and pulls out a gun. 

“I should shoot you,” she says. “You’re destroying yourself. You’re obviously deranged. Soon enough, you’ll be one of the Mordrem.” 

Elandrin snarls. “Just try it.” 

The asura can pay. Juliana can pay. Let me in, and they can all pay. 

Elandrin gasps. Night spreads around them, big and tight and oppressive. His head feels like it’s about to burst. His mind feels like a half-eaten apple that’s home to a couple of worms. He bites his hand and cries when the pressure tightens and holds, and between the two sensations, he falls back into the refreshing pool of darkness beneath. 

When he mercifully wakes up, he runs. 

V

The jungle burns around him. The jungle burns, and his eyes prickle, and his skin feels like it’s on fire. He doesn’t know where he is, or what he’s doing; he watches the miserable, half-dead leaves on his head dangle before his eyes. 

The struggle and the pain can stop, little one. All you have to do is let me in. 

He roars and digs his nails into the ground. They break and he digs even harder, yells until his throat hurts, hurls sounds in the air as the dead remains of his enemies burn around him in a half-circle. Mordremoth screams, but Elandrin screams harder. 

He’ll scream himself to death if he has to. 

The ground shakes as someone approaches. Fire doesn’t seem to hurt them. There’s a hand on his face, and claws that don’t tear, and Elandrin stops screaming. His throat burns as he cries, and writhes in the corner, in the ashes of those that wanted to kill him, and he smells sap around him and is just aware enough to know it’s his own. 

“Master has been looking for you,” the person says. “You’re still struggling.” They sound gentle and Elandrin sobs harder with as much breath as he has left. 

“Please,” he rasps out. It all hurts. His head, his mind, his body, it’s all one big point of pain. 

The person kneels down. Elandrin looks at them. Hands hold their face, and they’re big. It’s blurry, but it’s as if the fingers part and reveal the soft browns of what’s a sylvari eye. 

“It can stop, the pain,” the person says softly. “Just let go.” And then, in a voice he thought long gone, “I hate seeing you in pain even now, El.” 

He doesn’t know what it is. One last punch comes from deep within, from the memories he tries so hard to bury down, hazy in the smoke. He grasps it and holds onto it. The figure then leans in, licks his tears with his forked tongue, and presses his petal-soft lips to Elandrin’s forehead. 

“Adryn,” Elandrin croaks. His whole body shakes. He loved Adryn, once. He loved their nights together. He loved the way Adryn laughed. He loved holding Adryn’s hand and making him fire constellations. He loved the way Adryn’s bark felt against his own, naked, his lips on Elandrin’s face, and the way he held him close, and he can almost hear himself laugh again the same way he did then. The sound comes distorted, off, and he can hear his own angry words and the tremble in Adryn’s voice. 

He loved Adryn, once. But as he loves all things, himself included, that too ended up in flames. 

“All you have to do is let go,” Adryn says. 

Elandrin stares at the night sky, caught between death and life. The fire can’t catch him, but he hopes it will. 

With one last push, he wishes the jungle would burn down with him. 

VI

“Arcanist Elandrin! We found him!” 

“Is he dead?” 

“Don’t think so! Come on, I need a hand over here! Hurry up! Do we have menders on the squad? I repeat, do we have menders on the squad?” 

There are voices. Steps. Rustle of leaves. Pants of worry, and hurt. Metal against metal. Clinking of armor. 

“Elandrin, are you with me?” 

He struggles to locate the voice. His eyes might as well be sealed shut. 

“I’m here. For fuck’s sake. Just listen to my voice, okay? I know you’re with us. Just listen to my voice, yeah. Good. Like that. I’m here. We have menders on the squad. We’ll get you up in no time. It’s just some healing magic. Feels a little invasive. Not much I can do about it. I’m sure you people have a better word for it.” There’s a hand on his face. He sighs as it guides him. The pain subsides. “Elandrin? Yeah, knew you were with us. Dwayna have fucking mercy on you. Who fucked you up like that?” 

His eyes open slowly. There are claws on his face, but the face that greets him isn’t monstrous, nor the eye familiar. The face is pale, human, with bright, purple eyes. 

“It’s me, Alysannyra. I know I’m not your favorite person, but who fucking cares right now. I’m healing you until the menders come. You’re not dying on me - you hear me? You’re not dying on the Pact. You’ll want to singe my eyebrows off later, but I’m not letting you die, you hear me?” 

Alysannyra..? 

“You’re coming to. Great. Glad to see you’re as destructive when you’re unconscious as you are when you’re awake. All this ash is very becoming of you.”

He raises a hand. It shakes but he holds it up. Alysannyra.. He can’t recall a single good thing about her, but right now, her body feels soft and safe. He touches her nose and his hand drops down again. 

“Not a mordrem,” he says weakly, when someone else kneels down beside them. 

“Good to hear. Thought I’d have to put you down if you suddenly go all monstrous on us.” 

He shakes his head. 

He made it. He’s alive. He could cry, if his body willed it. 

Not a mordrem, he thinks to himself one last time before darkness takes him again. 

But this time, the hands he falls into are safe. 

#gw2 #inspo birb has come to town #elandrin aien #vague alysannyra #gw2 writing #gw2 fic #guild wars 2 #gw2 hot #heart of thorns #gw2 sylvari #gw2 mordrem #IT'S OUT IT'S OUTTT

[bcbdrums]

What are your Soul Eater ships besides Spirit/Stein?

Oh boy LOL well. I actually don't have too many? Not that I think about seriously. I'll name the ones I think about seriously and then the couple I think about casually. This is gonna be a non-spoiler post with just brief overviews, but I'll mention both anime and manga.

Soul/Maka - I mean. They hit hard in both canons. Easily the most shippable and I'm delighted to ship them. Dare I use the term soulmates? Yes, yes I dare. They're utterly perfect for each other. I could ramble on for thousands of words about why but that would take too long in this post, so I shall save it lol.

Spirit/Stein - Also love them in both canons. I think anime shipping is easier even though they technically get less time together than in the manga? There's reasons for that. Also I find I'm more drawn to them as a platonic ship, but 'eyyy ain't gonna say no to the romance. I am drawn to them because of the whole story... You've got these two dysfunctional adults with some crazy insane history together and we get bits and pieces and more questions than answers and just what happened and I desperately need to know, and I need them together. These two hold me utterly captive with the potential for their stories.

Stein/Marie - Still ship in both canons, but manga is far more shippable and this is why I find Spirit/Stein easier in the anime, because you cannot deny Stein/Marie in the manga. I haven't even finished reading it yet as I write this and I'm just. Whoa. He...actually loves her. I didn't see it coming. And they ALSO have tons of off-screen story that leaves more questions than answers and I direly need to know! Another huge wash of potential.

Black Star/Tsubaki - I mean... Come on. It's right there. In both canons again. But it's the sort of ship where...they don't get romantic till they've grown up. Not for some years later, as late teens or young adults, and then it's sort of an...oh yeah of course we're in love, sort of thing. I don't give tons of thought to this ship, but it's definitely got me.

Kid/Liz - I really do not think about this one hardly at all, but glimpses again in both canons caught my eye. I see this more as a one-sided unrequited love thing on Liz's part, except it's not actually unrequited and it would shock the living daylights out of her if he ever showed any sign of sharing her feelings. Which of course he would some day, heheh. But yeah I barely give thought to this one at all.

Ox/Kim - Don't think about them, but yes very good. Also canon in the manga, woo.

Ox/Harvar - Don't think about them, but they remind me of SoMa.

I think that's it? That might be all I've thought about ship-wise? Hmmm... If I think of more I'll come back to this post and add to it.

Thanks for the ask!!

#soul eater #soma #franken stein #spirit albarn #death the kid #maka albarn #black star #kim diehl #tsubaki nakatsukasa #soul x maka #spiritstein #TsuStar #ox ford #kimial diehl #harvar d'eclair #maka x soul #kid x liz #steinspirit #crossstitch #stein #spirit #death scythe #tsubaki #liz thompson #man i doubt i tagged this properly oh well

[misscrawfords]

Strong Girl Nam Soon is falling into that sweet spot for me between being good and entertaining enough to make me invested in it and having sufficient flaws to make me deeply frustrated.

So obviously I'm going to analyse it way more than it deserves!

I think

The characterisation (or lack of it) of Nam Soon herself. Quite a lot to delve into here. She started off with a really intriguing origin and character with lots of directions in which she could go in... and she just hasn't developed at all really. She starts up very idealistic and naive which is understandable considering her upbringing. She acts charming in a childish way. She is rash and thoughtless but fundamentally good-hearted and on the side of the underdog and uses her powers for good. All of these are qualities that make sense in who she is but she is very immature. The show keeps these qualities but instead of interrogating them and allowing her to mature realistically while suffering inevitable set-backs and challenges to her idealism, she keeps all of this, is somehow incredibly attractive to both the hero and villain (despite her child-like tone and mannerisms - I genuinely find this so odd) and adds being a super spy to her list of accomplishments. (Surely being a good spy is literally the opposite set of skills to being good at brute force and not thinking before you act?) Dare I say it... she's a Mary Sue! Which leads onto the second issue with Nam Soon which is she is both over-powered and not given enough to do with her powers. The first few episodes showed her frequently using her super strength and it was very cool and superhero-like and fitted the apparent theme (and name) of the show. But she's rarely used them in the latter half of the show. Meanwhile she also has super speed, super vision and I'm sure something I'm forgetting. If she's got these skills, she needs to use them frequently and to advance the plot or it feels quite pointless. Instead, we see her playing the role of a spy which feels totally OOC. How is she so good at lying all of a sudden? It doesn't fit at all with the character we were introduced to in the first couple of episodes. Someone who just builds a ger in the middle of a public park and beats up everyone who tries to stop her without any thought for consequences is... not going to be good at a danger-filled spy mission in a high security mafia joint. Right???? It's hard to care too much about Nam Soon because there seem to be no consequences to her actions, she doesn't seem to respond realistically to what happens around her based on her own established character, and she doesn't seem to have developed from the beginning to close to the end of the drama.

Second issue is the way the romance(s) are being played. Look, I'm happy for the grandma and all and I think it's lovely she's getting a romance with sweeping soundtrack and dramatic moments but it is a bit odd that this is the relationship that is getting the most attention in the show. Nam Soon and Hee Sik are adorable and I can get behind a cute relationship without ridiculous manufactured impediments but very little attention is given to it and just as Nam Soon's character is very static, so is the relationship. There are no issues between the pair of them (and there easily should be) and their relationship doesn't seem to impact the other at all and make them grow individually as well as together, which a really good fictional relationship should do. It's cute - and that's it. As for Ryu Si-o, hmm, another puzzle. I'm usually behind villain romances and redemption arcs (I'm a Reylo shipper, for goodness sake) but I'm struggling to see it here. Mainly because Nam Soon acts so childish, I feel a bit icky shipping her in a relationship that is so adult coded. I know she's an adult (I'm not some weird purity shipper who can't deal with a bit of an age gap) but the way the actress plays the character makes her come across as so immature that I just can't read it romantically. And she has no interest in him. Nothing he says seems to sway her or interest her. She's a good little foot soldier and nothing else. Which is very boring, but that's the characterisation... Frustating. And don't get me started on the bizarre way Nam Soon's family is gunning for this "you have consummate this relationship and have strong girls when you're 22". Any normal person would be running for the hills! Why is this not creepy and an issue? Very bizarre.

The way the characters are forced to be unbelievably stupid to make the plot work. Like, it seems TOTALLY unbelieavable that Nam Soon has not been caught. She's really unconvincing as a spy - why is nobody running better background checks on her? How has Si-o not found Nam Soon before? Like, with his resources, it can't be hard! Why is nobody suspicious? Why did the police department let their supervisor lick a known deadly drug then believe him when he said he was okay and not take him to hospital etc.? Absolutely clown behaviour. Why does Geum Joo take the trouble of putting bodyguards around her family because they are all in danger but her closest confidante doesn't come into work on a very important day and won't answer the phone, just texts to say "she's ill" and Geum Joo is like "Sure, that sounds legit"? Why did nobody communicate about Nam In and the symptoms of the drug? The whole Nam In plot altogether... Why are the men in the family not just "not strong" but completely emasculated and massive losers? We're apparently dealing with wealthy and successful people but they're all behaving like complete incompetents! Which would be funny if the show had retained the comic tone it started with but it's got quite dark and so it's tonally off.

Okay. Enough whinging. Under the cut, I'm going to give some suggestions for how I would rewrite aspects of the show to try to make it less frustrating. (I'm so close to writing fanfic but I know I won't haha.)

First, the things I'd definitely keep:

The grandma's entire plot

Geum Joo being a total badass

Nam Soon's initial characterisation (and her plaits)

Cute romance with Hee Sik

Si-o's characterisation and tragic backstory

The drug plot - I don't mind it at all

In other words, I'd keep the show telling the same story but I'd alter the characterisation.

Nam Soon would have a lot more inner conflict, which she can have without losing a fundamentally optimistic outlook. She finds it very hard to living in Korea. Her homeless friends play a much bigger role and she dedicates herself to trying to make social changes to make society more egalitarian and is continually frustrated by her inability to make progress within the system. It leads to clashes with her mother after an initial honeymoon phase of being reunited who cannot understand why she can't just throw money at individuals and consider it done and why Nam Soon even grows to resent her own family's wealth. It also leads to clashes with Hee Sik, whose role as a police officer means he is upholding the very social order she finds so unfair. On the other hand, it drives her towards Ryu Si-o who she discovers knows more than anyone else in her life about destitution and who is willing to operate outside the law to effect change.

I also think it would be very interesting to have Si-o discover very early on who Tsetseg is. She is a terrible liar and not sneaky at all so he realises first that she is planted as a spy but she is so obviously terrible at it that he is more amused than angry and then he digs around and realises she is Nam Soon. He realises all this before/as he develops feelings for her. He decides to keep her around to keep the enemy close but quickly finds her straight forward attitude which comes through despite her best intentions and frustrations with many of the things that frustrate him too compelling and he ends up getting distracted from his business with the drugs in order to do big bad mafia villain type things like funding soup kitchens. And of course, social justice warrior Nam Soon who is learning about class inequality and really trying to do something about it is shown to mature by her dropping her childlike tone and mannerisms over the course of the show.

Honestly, can this end up being a Hee Sik/Nam Soon romance when he has so little he can contribute to her development? I'm honestly not sure. It depends how far down the redemption path you're willing to take Si-o. And I don't know how the show will end but redemption by death is so boring...

More exploration of strength and how Nam Soon and Si-o parallel each other. Oh botheration, no matter how I try to look at it, they ought to have the most compelling dynamic for a ship! It's just Nam Soon's mannerisms that stop me shipping it. :( On paper, it's a no brainer! Maybe I'll just plan a superhero/villain original romance instead!

Anyway, I just wish this show made more sense and was more coherent because I do like it enough to be engaged and invested. And the ideas and initial characters were so cool. Geum Joo - what a bamf! A whole series about her but without her strange lack of attention to issues with people near her... or deal with it properly as a significant character flaw.

#strong girl nam soon #long post