#no idea if someone has thought of this already

[purple-babygirl]

yours to hurt, yours to love

Pairing: (dom)!Bucky Barnes x (sub)!f!reader

Word count: 8,050

Summary: They had a deal. She would surrender her control; he would take it. Love had no place in such a relationship, did it?

Warnings: 18+ Content: friends with benefits, blowjobs, lots of cum, cum eating, cum in pussy, unprotected vaginal intercourse (don't do that), mentions of cheating, angst, crying, dom x sub dynamics including a sir kink and the use of puppy as a petname, BDSM features including begging, following orders/instructions, mentions of ropes, being tied/suspended, mentions of edging and overstimulation and the use of toys, ass whipping with a belt, mention and use of a safeword, chocking, two insecure idiots being in love, metal arm kink, fingering, rubbing of cock on pussy, multiple orgasms, aftercare. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: this is a self-indulgent fic I wrote simply because I wanted to read and now it's finally done so I'm sharing it with you, babies:"💜💜 I just started at a new job and it's very tiring and energy and time consuming so I thought I'd post something before I get swept up in the real world of numbers and targets and not being broke. I really hope you like this one and I love you all with every bit of me💜

~

As most one-night stands start, they had met at a bar.

She was sitting all alone with her palm hugging a beer bottle, her face carrying the saddest look. She had turned down every guy that had tried to approach her that evening.

Bucky had been watching her all night, lost in deep thought as she barely raised the warming bottle to her lips, the melancholic look marring her features never leaving.

She had only smiled once that night, and it was for Bucky.

She was snapped out of thought when a louder song abruptly came on, startling her back to reality and that was when she saw him.

The most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on had his eyes on her from the other side of the crowded nightclub, and she found herself smiling at him.

He quickly turned his gaze away, suddenly shy that he was staring.

She wanted to ignore the man, telling herself she had a lot on her plate already, that it would likely be a mistake to go talk to him; that she needed to keep her distance from men for a while at least. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t ignore him.

Even with his back to her, his presence was too strong to simply be ignored.

So she disregarded her minds’ screams and went to talk to him.

Bucky almost chocked on his drink when he saw that it was her who had approached him, but he managed to compose himself.

“Were you ever planning on talking to me?” She teased with a smile as she sat down next to him at the bar.

And just like that, they were talking.

They talked about anything and everything, the deepest things as well as the silliest.

She was so easy to be around and she actually made the man laugh.

She had no idea, but Bucky didn’t think he had even cracked a smile in weeks.

Before she could decide what was right and what wasn’t, she had her lips on his, and before he could overthink it, Bucky was taking her back to his place.

It has been a long time since the man had had the chance to like someone, and he liked her even more when she didn’t make him feel bad about himself that night.

The metal arm didn’t faze her.

She didn’t ask intrusive questions or even let her gaze linger. She treated it just like his other arm, wrapping both around her back as she straddled Bucky on his couch, making out with him like she has been waiting for him her whole life.

But that wasn’t the only reason Bucky appreciated her so much that night.

She had gotten on her knees for him, both of them fully naked at that point, her boobs swaying lightly as her hand pumped his hard cock, lubing him up with his pre-cum.

Her hands were magic and he didn’t want to tell her that he was too close to exploding just from her soft hand palming his tip.

She had barely gotten Bucky in her mouth when he had started cumming all over her.

The sight of his fists clutching the couch, mouth open as groans left his chest while copious amounts of cum covered her mouth, chin, neck and boobs had her wetness dripping down her bare thighs.

When he was back on earth again and his vision was no longer black, Bucky started apologizing profusely when he realized what had happened.

He had come way too fast. All over her. Without her getting to finish even once. He didn’t even get to touch her down there.

Bucky thought she was definitely going to leave.

“It’s okay,” she said with a kind smile as her clean hand caressed up and down one of his thighs, “I don’t mind.”

And before Bucky could explain that it has been a long time for him, she was collecting his cum off her skin with her fingers and slipping them into her mouth, maintaining eye contact with the man and almost giving his old heart an attack.

Bucky stared with parted lips, cock already hardening again, as she shut her eyes and moaned over the taste of him.

She had managed to eat every bit of cum that had gotten on her face and neck before Bucky unfroze and lost it.

He grabbed his shirt and hastily wiped her chest clean of his cum before eagerly carrying her to his bed.

He thought her surprised giggle as she called him a “caveman” had to be the sweetest sound he had ever heard until he pushed his cock in her and her wail of his name echoed throughout the quiet bedroom.

Bucky was hooked on the sight of her, the taste of her, the smell of her, and the feel of her.

Her walls were hugging his cock so tight that he thought he wouldn’t be able to get the rest of it inside. Her hands were scratching at his back as she tried to adjust to his size with a silent scream on her face.

“Relax,” Bucky had told her softly.

It was a simple word, but it was the most exhilarating thing when she had immediately listened, her pussy muscles relaxing for him at once, thighs spreading wider to accommodate him better.

Bucky was amazed by her ability to listen to instructions; it awakened an unmatched feeling inside of him.

Once he was buried to the hilt inside of her, Bucky wanted to see what else he could make her do; how much she might obey, so he stayed still.

“I’m ready, you can move.” She had nodded to him, thinking he was waiting on her.

But that wasn’t why Bucky wasn’t moving. He knew she was ready, her juices were ruining his sheets for heaven’s sake.

“I mean, if you ask nicely enough…”

He was just giving it a try, and if she didn’t go along with it he would still give her what she wanted—

“Please,” she begged, eyes pleading as she wiggled her hips, “please fuck me, Bucky.”

Fuck.

Bucky couldn’t think much after that, his body moving of its own volition as he pulled out and slammed back inside her pussy.

It was one thrust. One single thrust had her arching her back and shouting out his name.

He completely broke down, fucking her with abandon, just wanting to hear more of her; feel deeper inside of her.

The bedpost slammed against the wall repeatedly as she screamed with every hit of Bucky’s cock to her g-spot.

The way she was scratching his back, whining, wailing and writhing under him as he pounded her into his bed should’ve and could’ve been enough for Bucky, but he couldn’t help but want more.

“Open your eyes,” he gave her another command, knowing it might be hard for her to manage that one with how deep he was giving it to her.

But her eyes were instantly on him, fighting to stay open as his fat cock filled her up again and again.

“Keep looking at me,” Bucky had told her, his right hand coming up to wrap around her neck.

He was slow and gentle, just waiting for her to stop him or refuse what he was doing.

But she had managed to surprise him again because instead, her hand had come up to his, fully wrapping his palm around her throat before showing Bucky the right amount of pressure to apply.

Fuck, she had to be an angel sent specifically to him from heaven. It seemed like whatever god was up there had finally had mercy on him.

She wasn’t only okay with Bucky’s hand being on her neck, she was showing him how to choke her as his cock fucked her raw within an inch of her life too.

Bucky felt his thrusts stutter as he almost came at the sight of her: mouth open with nothing but his name coming out of it, throat held in his palm and eyes battling to stay open as they rolled back in her head, her pussy chocking his cock.

And when he thought she couldn’t get anymore perfect, she started screaming out a request, “can I please cum? Please, Bucky!”

She was asking his permission to let herself feel the pleasure he was so willingly giving her.

Bucky felt high as he groaned, “cum”, and watched her hand hastily come down to rub her clit once, twice before she fell apart around his cock.

Her thighs involuntarily clasped around Bucky as they shook with the rest of her body, her orgasm hitting her like a thousand trains, making her back bow.

Bucky’s hand tightened around her throat the slightest bit as he felt her pussy shutter around his cock and felt himself get closer to his own release, thrusts becoming erratic.

“Please cum inside me, Bucky. Fill me up with your cum, need it,” she pled and the man could only take so much.

Bucky came and he came hard, proving the cum he had painted her body with earlier to be just a sample of what his cock really had to offer.

When they could both breathe normally again, she found herself in his arms, pitching him an idea, too satisfied and full of cum to stop herself and rethink.

And to her happiness, Bucky actually agreed.

~

When they first started that type of deal, she said she didn’t want a relationship.

Bucky respected that and he was okay with it because although he liked her very much, he knew he wasn’t the relationship type himself. He didn’t believe himself fit for romantic relationships. He thought he was too messed up for such stuff.

And she was just like him.

She didn’t know how to be loved; didn’t know how to receive love. She didn’t think she deserved it. She didn’t think she was worth it. Never thought of herself as beautiful enough or attractive enough or lovable enough.

So the dynamic they came up with was their best option.

They were going to be friends with benefits. Except, the benefits were much more extreme than the usual, vanilla sex that would come to mind. So friends with benefits with a fun twist.

After being manipulated for so long, Bucky wanted nothing but to be in charge of his life, body and mind; to be in a position of power where he had the upper hand.

She, on the other hand, needed her freewill to be taken away from her. Being as responsible as she was in her everyday life, she would get too exhausted; drained. She wanted decisions to be made for her as she only obeyed and conformed. She wanted to be used until her head held no thoughts of her deadlines or tasks.

She wanted choking and spanking and bondage. She wanted domination.

Bucky needed to feel in control, and she needed to give up control.

Take mine, she said, take my control away and make it yours.

It was a perfect match. They had clearly communicated their boundaries, wants and needs. They had established their roles, likes and dislikes. And they had agreed on a few simple rules:

It was strictly sex; only sex.

No kissing on the lips no matter what.

No cuddling afterwards even if aftercare took place.

No strings attached.

The safe word meant they stopped; no questions asked.

Bucky wasn’t exactly on board with number 2 because he knew what her lips felt like on his and he wanted more of that. But she said it would only complicate things; that it might get feelings involved and they couldn’t have that.

So he agreed. He really just wanted her to be as comfortable as possible.

And they had almost done it all in 6 months. She had let Bucky tie her down, spank her, choke her, use toys on her, edge her, overstimulate her, fuck her in every position known to humans and on every service that could take their weight and Bucky’s pace.

But deep down, Bucky knew that she still needed more even if she had claimed otherwise.

He knew that she was frequently going on dates in between their sessions, desperately searching for the one that would manage to sweep her off her feet and magically change the way she looked at herself with his unconditional love.

So when she sat with him that one day and told him she wanted to stop what they were doing because she wanted to commit to her new boyfriend, Bucky wasn’t surprised. He was heartbroken, but not surprised.

And so he let her go.

He didn’t want to. He never wanted to. But Bucky knew that he couldn’t give her what she wanted, and so he was going to let her have it with someone else. He needed her like the air he breathed, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand in her way.

Bucky was addicted to her, yes, but he wasn’t going to be selfish and get in the way of her possible happiness with that new boyfriend whoever he was. He just hoped that that new man deserved her.

~

The real surprise came when Bucky opened his door one day and she was standing there looking like an abandoned puppy three months after their last meeting.

Three months without her that have been torture. Three months during which Bucky couldn’t bear the mere idea of bringing another woman to his bed. Three months of replaying their intense scenes in his head with his hand down his pants.

Oh how he missed seeing her choke on his cock. He missed her begging for him to touch her, to relieve her heavy shoulders of everything they had to carry. He missed seeing her come for him so hard that tears would start rolling down her face.

But now she was here, and she didn’t look okay. And it made Bucky realize that he has mostly missed her being her.

“I need you, Buck,” she whispered and he instantly opened the door wider for her.

Bucky let her inside and she climbed on his lap the second he sat down. He held her in his arms on his couch for as long as she needed, internally aching to know what had gotten her looking so dejected.

He knew it had to do with the new man in her life and he could only calm himself down by imagining his fist slamming against the faceless man’s nose.

“What did he do?” Bucky finally broke the silence, making her pull her face from his neck and look at him.

God, she looked so hurt, so broken.

He wished he could fix it, but how could he when he himself needed fixing?

“If I ask you for a favor, would you do it for me?” Her faint voice asked instead, pulling away from their hug.

“You know I will,” Bucky replied without reluctance.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He would do anything for her. He would kill again for her, burn down whole cities and cross oceans on his bare feet for her if she asked him to.

She got up from Bucky’s lap, getting down on her knees before the couch just like the first night he had brought her home, “I want you to punish me, Bucky.”

“What?”

Where did that come from? She wanted to start a session? Now? In that state?

“I want you to spank me. Punish me.” She repeated calmly.

“Doll, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Bucky tried to remind her, wanting her to know that whatever that man did to ruin his relationship with her wasn’t her fault.

And he wasn’t seriously about to give her a spanking when she looked like that, so small and worn out and wounded.

“Please, Bucky.”

Damn, she begged so sweetly. But he just couldn’t.

Bucky never thought he would say no to a scene with her, especially a passionate one, but he couldn’t hurt her even more than she looked to be hurting.

That was not what they did this for.

“Doll, get up. Sit down and talk to me,” Bucky said softly, trying to lift her up by the shoulders.

“Buck, you said you’d do it.” A sad frown settled upon her delicate face with a look that Bucky knew well.

She was getting more heartbroken at his rejection. She really did want this. She needed it and she could only come to Bucky for it. How could he keep turning her down?

“Okay, doll. How many?” Bucky asked despite himself, rubbing his palms together.

“Not with your hands,” she said with a smile, getting up and walking inside the bedroom to his closet.

Bucky carded a hand through his long hair as he waited for her to come back with whatever item she was choosing, knowing this was going to be the hardest time he has ever had to cause her pain, even if it was pain she wanted and asked for.

“With this.” She left the belt she brought on Bucky’s lap as she got back to her place by his feet.

“Doll, this is the thickest belt I own,” Bucky told her, wanting to intimidate her into changing her mind.

He needed her to change her mind. He couldn’t hit her with that thing. Not today. Probably not ever.

“I know.” She nodded with the same sure smile.

“Doll, why?” Bucky touched her cheek tenderly, desperate to understand.

If she would just talk to him, he would do his best to fix it. He probably couldn’t, but he was ready to try.

“Please, Bucky. For me, I need this.” She, again, avoided answering his questions.

“This is gonna hurt, doll,” Bucky warned, examining the belt in his lap.

Damn, it was heavy.

“I know. That’s the point.” She nodded in acceptance, “I need it to hurt.”

“Doll.”

“C’mon, Buck, we’ve done this before. You’ve had me dangling from your ceiling for god’s sake!”

He remembered that day. It was a week after she had gotten promoted and everything was becoming too much for her.

She had Bucky suspend her upside down from his ceiling as he spanked her rear raw before getting her down and fucking her into oblivion until all she could worry about was if she would be able to take another orgasm.

She looked even sadder today, and she was asking for far less.

Maybe he could give her what she wanted.

“How many?” Bucky asked again with a clenched jaw, seeing that there was no way he was going to change her mind.

“As many as it takes for me to cry,” she replied and her answer sent a pang into Bucky’s chest.

So that was it. She needed to cry and she couldn’t. She just needed to cry; to give release to her pent-up tears.

Bucky knew that crying was something that she struggled with. He knew that one of the things she loved about what they did was the fact that she could cry during it all; during a spanking, an edging or even an intense orgasm.

But couldn’t it be done any other way this time? Maybe he could make her watch a sad movie or something?

“Doll, if it’s about you crying—”

“Bucky, please,” she stopped him, shaking her head with determination, “please give me this. I need it.”

If she could, she would have cried to get him to say yes faster.

Bucky sighed, glancing at her one final time before asking, “do you remember your safe word?”

“Red.” She smiled gratefully, adrenaline already pumping through her blood in anticipation.

Bucky slipped the hairband on his wrist down to his fingers, pulling his hair in a low bun before taking his shirt off, leaving himself in his white tank top.

Keeping his eyes on hers, he ordered: “strip and get on the bed, puppy. You know your position.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She jumped up, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“What was that?” Bucky’s tone was deeper and his eyes darker.

It has started.

“Thank you, sir,” she quickly corrected herself.

“Go.”

One nod of his head and she was running to the bedroom to do as she was told.

As she took her clothes off, folding them piece by piece and leaving them on the chair in the corner of Bucky’s bedroom, he was outside readying himself for what he was about to do to her.

Bucky had pledged months ago that he would give her anything she needed or wanted during their sessions.

Leaving her fulfilled made him feel fulfilled and the first time he had his bare cock in her, Bucky knew he was wrapped around her littlest finger. It seemed like he was the one in control of those meet ups but control was actually always in her hands.

Now, if what she needed was a spanking to make her cry, Bucky knew how to give it to her, but he didn’t want to. He knew this belt was going to hurt a lot and he wished she would’ve chosen something less bad.

But a deal was a deal and he couldn’t back out now that he knew she was waiting naked on his bed.

She heard Bucky’s heavy steps coming closer and tried to regulate her breathing, reminding herself that she wanted this, that she begged for this, that she deserved this.

She trusted Bucky with her life, not just her body. She knew he was going to stop the minute she said her safe word and that made her a little calmer.

“You ready, puppy?” Bucky asked, gliding the tip of the belt across her bare ass from one cheek to the other.

She shivered, fixing her gaze on Bucky’s bedpost as she whispered, “yes, sir.”

And just like that came the first spank.

But it didn’t hurt, not like she had expected, not at all.

Bucky was going easy on her; too easy.

She didn’t like it.

“Harder, please,” she begged, lowering her head and sticking her ass out.

“Doll—”

“Bucky, please, you promised,” she pled, her voice thick with frustration at her inability to get what she needed from the one person who could give it to her.

Another spank came, a little stronger than the first, but still not enough.

“Did your arm get rusty in those three months?” She threw angrily, raising her eyes to glare at Bucky, “hit me like a man!”

Bucky knew she was just trying to rile him up, make him angry enough so that he would actually hurt her and even though he didn’t want to, he decided he would finally give her what she came for.

“Fine,” Bucky growled, pushing her face into his pillows by the hair and she immediately gave him a full view of her lower half, ass in the air and thighs spread.

He wasn’t going to be able to look at her face as he hurt her this time.

Bucky took a deep breath before finally giving her a real whip and she gasped at the force of it, “is that what you wanted, puppy?”

“Getting close,” she moaned, her words muffled into the pillows as she wiggled her ass for him.

Another similar spank hit her and then another and another until suddenly her body was getting hotter and her butt sorer.

She needed more. Just a little more to break the dam and get suffocating thoughts and burning tears out.

“More, please, sir,” she begged, voice so desperate that it had Bucky swallowing.

He gave an experimental whip on her thighs and she let out a startled scream.

“What’s your color?” Bucky asked at once, hesitant that he might have actually hurt her.

“Green.” Came her reply as she looked up to Bucky, “green, sir, please.”

She was begging for more of this.

Bucky recomposed himself and spanked her thighs with the belt again and she wailed out a “yes, thank you, sir!”, urging him on.

For the first time ever, however, Bucky was not enjoying this. He was not enjoying causing her pain and he was not enjoying knowing that he was supposed to make her cry by the end of it all.

His whips got faster and harder as his thoughts ran wild with worry, just wanting to get this over with as her moans and cries egged him on.

“Color?”

“Green!” She would answer every time he checked in with her.

Pictures of her boyfriend in bed with another woman flashed throw her mind and she stuck her ass out more, hiding her ashamed face in Bucky’s pillows. He let her touch him the way only she was supposed to touch him. He made her shout out in pleasure the way she never did with him. He made her scream his name; the name that was supposed to only roll off her tongue during intimate times.

Her mind kept replaying it all, making her squirm and stick her butt out further. She wanted it all to stop.

She needed this. She deserved this. She was stupid.

“Thank you, sir,” she muttered, a lump finally forming in her throat.

It seemed like whatever had happened this time, had been so bad that the normal amount of whips weren’t enough to get her mind off of it. She was still her, well out of sub space and still very much aware of the ache in her heart.

She needed that ache to move somewhere else, preferably to her ass.

“More, sir, please.”

Bucky’s shoulder started to slightly ache as he kept whipping her, again and again, just wanting it to be over so he could comfort her after as he heard her sniffles, and finally, with a particularly harsh spank on her lower thighs she screamed out, “red!”.

Bucky’s arm stopped immediately, dropping the belt on the floor as he listened as her soft cries get louder.

She burrowed her face in his pillow and let it all out, sobs wracking her entire body as she cried her bleeding heart out.

“Doll,” he whispered, regret filling him at the sight of her body trembling with each wail she let out of her chest.

He looked at her lower body and her ass and thighs were a crime scene, her skin painted in angry red welts all over.

“Please, leave me alone, Buck,” she wept, her face still hidden in his pillow.

“Let me take care of you, doll—”

“No, no. Just leave me,” she pleaded without turning to him.

“At least let me put something on your skin—”

“Please just leave me alone. Please, Bucky,” she sobbed harder, her fingers clutching the side of the pillow as she let her tears flow.

Bucky reluctantly left the room, giving her the space she asked for as guilt ate away at his heart.

He shouldn’t have listened to her. He shouldn’t have done that to her.

It was only when he sat down on the couch outside that he had realized how hard he had actually whipped her. His right shoulder ached, a few strands of his hair were out of place and sweat had forced by his hairline. All the realization did was make him feel more terrible about himself.

He knew he has done it before so many times, but this time was different.

She came to him hurt emotionally and instead of helping her feel better, he ended up hurting her physically too.

She did ask for it, but he could have said no. He could’ve insisted on not doing it.

The sound of her cries seemed never-ending and was absolutely heart-wrenching to listen to. Bucky could all but cover his ears to prevent it from reaching him as he beat himself up for causing it all again and again.

She winced as she sat up on the messy bed, hand on her naked chest as she tried to calm herself down, still hiccupping while her cries slowed down.

God, she had needed this so bad. She had needed it for days and she was so grateful for Bucky for giving it to her.

Being able to cry and let everything out was a blessing that people didn’t appreciate enough; one she was kind of deprived of and had to do a lot to get to enjoy.

When her heartbeat was somewhat slower and her tears have ceased, she slowly pulled herself down the bed and on her wobbly feet.

She looked out to the living room from the bedroom door to see Bucky back on the couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands and she knew he was blaming himself.

So she wiped her tears as much as she could and went back inside. She opened the drawer she knew too well and pulled out the Calendula cream Bucky had bought specifically for her.

She carefully walked to Bucky. She didn’t want him to feel guilty so she made sure not to wince as she took her steps.

She had wanted this. She had asked for it because she had needed it and he only helped her. She wasn’t going to let him berate himself for that.

She left the cream on the coffee table and gently removed Bucky’s hands from his face, guiding him to rest his back on the couch so she could sit herself back across his lap.

Bucky stopped her, standing up to take his pants off so that the material wouldn’t rub against her sensitive skin.

She smiled, her heart lurching at his gentleness and thoughtfulness.

He let her manipulate him into position, closely watching her red-rimmed eyes and swollen nose and lips as she made herself as comfortable as possible on his lap, the new lashes covering her behind out of his sight for now.

Bucky hugged her close, his hands stroking up and down her bare back as she pushed her nose in its place in the crook of his neck, “thank you.” She breathed gratefully.

Bucky only patted her back, pulling her closer in reply. He knew she meant her thanks, but he was still mad at himself for doing it.

She pulled back and let him take her in for a second before leaning in, making Bucky swallow.

“Now fuck me,” she whispered on his lips, grinding down on his covered cock despite the pain it gave her every time she rubbed her inflamed skin on Bucky’s boxers.

“Doll, I think you’ve had enough for today,” Bucky sighed, softly trying to get her off of him.

“Please, just once. I won’t ask for anything else.” She pleaded, her hands clutching the material of Bucky’s tank top, not wanting to leave his lap.

She didn’t want to be away from him. She just got here.

“Doll, give me the cream so I can take care of you,” he demanded, trying to maintain a stern tone so she would listen.

“You can take care of me this way too!” She whined, needy and desperate as she ground herself harder, smiling when she found him hard beneath her.

“I can’t, doll. I can’t. You’re hurt.” Bucky shook his head, gently pushing her to the side and getting up before she could straddle him again.

“Please, Buck,” she croaked out, on the verge of crying again as she grabbed onto his waist, “please don’t walk away.”

“Do you promise not to try anything if I sit back down?” He asked although he knew the answer.

“But I need you!” Anguished tears rolled down her flushed cheeks, “just one orgasm. Please, just one.”

Her constant begging was making Bucky’s cock leak inside his briefs, hard as a rock as he tried his best not to give in.

He had missed her so damn much, but this wasn’t right.

“Doll, come on, quit it. You’re hurt—”

“I haven’t cum in three months.” She cut him off, sniffling as more tears left her eyes, “he— he couldn’t— please.” She begged yet again, her hands cravingly clawing at Bucky’s tank top, wanting him to be close again.

“What?!” Bucky sat back down, wiping her tears away as he took her back into his arms.

She nodded in shame as she cast her eyes down, burrowing her face in his shoulder, “he couldn’t make me cum”.

“Not even with his mouth?”

“Especially not with his mouth,” she muttered, hating the memory of a different man touching her.

“And you didn’t get yourself off?”

She shook her head, still embarrassed as she hid from him.

“Why not?!”

“Couldn’t touch myself without your permission.” She looked up to him, her teary eyes sincere.

Bucky let himself just look at her for a beat longer.

She was with another man that she supposedly wanted to be committed to, but she still followed Bucky’s rules during that relationship.

“I can make you cum, doll,” Bucky said, his gaze darkening, “but I have one condition.”

“Anything,” she whispered, desperate for his touch, his lips, his cock.

She had missed Bucky beyond compare.

“Allow me to break a rule.”

“What—”

“I need to kiss you, baby.”

She smiled, her heart relieved despite its fluttering as she answered by pressing her lips to Bucky’s.

He laid her on her back on his couch, careful not to rub himself against her lower region as he devoured her lips. Bucky sighed on her lips, the first taste always the best.

He hasn’t tasted those lips in nine months, since their very first time together. He remembered them tasting of beer back then, but today it was chocolate lacing her tongue.

It was Bucky’s turn to be desperate as he ate up her whimpers, his tongue dancing with hers as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to gobble her up, get as close to her as possible, taste every inch and swallow every whine.

He realized he couldn’t get as close as he wanted without his boxers scratching the welts on her sore skin.

Bucky pulled away for a second, leaving her to chase his mouth as he chuckled.

She whined, making grabby hands at him.

When he was done taking his boxers off, he got back on top of her, tenderly pushing her legs to her chest to keep them from bumping against the couch before slotting himself between her open legs as his mouth found its way back to hers.

“I can’t believe I let you take this away from me for so long,” he groaned, biting down on her lower lip.

She moaned in reply, pushing her hips up so she could get his cock to stroke against her.

She couldn’t believe she had deprived herself of those kisses either because she knew that she had fallen for the man anyways.

One swipe had Bucky hissing as he felt how wet she was under him. He has needed her for so long, not letting himself find any kind of relief with another woman in her absence.

“Do you want my fingers, doll?”

“No, no, gimme your cock, Bucky, please,” she pleaded, squirming on her back on the couch, pushing her hips up.

“I can’t do that, baby. You know it. It would be too much,” he sighed, his thumb stroking her cheek.

“Bucky, please. I can take it. I’ve taken worse!”

“I can’t. I can’t hurt you anymore, doll.” Bucky admitted, his hand sliding her hair behind her ear.

“Bucky,” she whined and his eyes gave her a firm look, making her shut up at once.

“It’s either my fingers or you get nothing, puppy. What do you want?”

“Your fingers, sir,” she replied obediently, pulling her legs further against her chest to give him all the access he would need.

“That’s a good puppy.” Bucky smiled, thumb circling her swollen clit.

“Please,” she breathed, already throwing her head back at the simple touch.

Bucky chuckled, though he was internally fuming at the fact that she was with a ‘man’ who didn’t make her cum for three whole months, “ready for the first one, puppy?”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded quickly.

Bucky carefully slipped two of his metal fingers inside of her dripping cunt, groaning at the tightness he has missed so much, “I know this hand’s your favorite”.

“I thought you said one!” She moaned in surprise, pushing down on his fingers still.

“I meant first orgasm, puppy,” Bucky laughed, scissoring his fingers inside of her, opening her up exactly like he knew she liked.

And when he curled his fingers just right? She was wailing out the yes’s and thank you’s like it was the last time she would ever get fingered in her life.

“Fuck, baby, squeezing my fingers so hard already,” Bucky groaned, the tips of his vibranium fingers nudging her sweet spot with every indulging thrust, massaging and abusing until he saw her thighs quiver with her first orgasm.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she squealed as Bucky let her come down from her high, fingers slowing down their movements without leaving her leaking pussy.

“Thank me when we’re done, doll.” He smirked, twisting his fingers inside of her.

Bucky got them out for a second only to slip back three fingers instead of two, feeling her cunt hungrily swallow them as she cried out at the delicious stretch.

He bit his lip, shaking his head as he got to business, “fuck, I’ve missed you so much”.

~

“How we feeling, puppy?” Bucky asked her as he saw her legs tense again.

“So good, so so good, sir. Thank you,” she sobbed in pleasure, feeling her thighs shake for the fifth time that afternoon.

“You’re such a good puppy, cumming so hard for me,” Bucky groaned, feeling the pull of her pussy as he tried to take his fingers out, moving them on her clit instead, “keep cumming baby”.

“I can’t take anymore. Please, I can’t.” She shook her head as she tried to squirm away from Bucky’s skilled fingers.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky chuckled, raising one hand up in surrender as his other went into his mouth.

She was gasping for air as she let her legs go, grimacing when her ass touched the couch. She raised her thighs back up, opening them when Bucky hovered over her body for another kiss.

His cock swiped against her sensitive pussy, making her clench when she felt how hard he was. Bucky was so hard it must be getting painful by now.

“Bucky, I can do one more,” she said against his lips.

“Oh you getting greedy on me, puppy?” Bucky smiled, instantly complying as he brought his hand down between their bodies.

She shivered at the mere tracing of his fingers on her pussy lips, “not with your fingers.”

“Come on now, baby, I thought we’ve already talked about this,” Bucky said, ready to pull away from her body.

“You don’t have to put it inside.” She held onto his waist with all her might, “just rub it on me. I can take that.”

“Baby,” Bucky hesitated, his resolve getting weaker as he imagined the feeling of her silky, drenched pussy under his cock.

“Please, Bucky, just rub it on my pussy. Use me. Make yourself cum.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Bucky whispered, getting hold of his cock.

He swiped the tip between the lips of her cunt, moaning lewdly at the feeling he had missed for months.

She was so wet, so sensitive and so soft.

Bucky was never one to cum fast; not after his very first time with her. But she looked so good under him, already fucked out of her mind. She felt even better and he could only handle so much.

He couldn’t believe she was going to make him cum this quick just by letting him nudge her pussy with the tip of his cock.

“Fuck, baby, this beautiful pussy’s gonna make me bust and I didn’t even get to fuck her!” Bucky groaned, feeling his abs get taut as he tried to hold off his orgasm for as long as physically possible.

He didn’t know where to look; she looked gorgeous everywhere and it was making it harder for him not to cum right then and then.

“I’m cumming,” she gave a shout before shaking underneath him for the sixth time.

“Fuck, yes, cum for me, doll.” Bucky groaned, squeezing at his base to hold his orgasm off.

“Slip the tip inside me, Buck,” she begged, still catching her breath and writhing underneath him needily as if he hadn’t just given her five mind-blowing orgasms on his fingers.

He shook his head, trying to focus on not cumming.

“Please, Bucky, just the tip.”

“Shit, don’t say stuff like that.” Bucky’s head tipped back as he closed his eyes for a second to keep from staring into her imploring ones.

“Please, Bucky. Give me your cum. I missed being filled up of your cum so much.” She begged further, “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I never doubted you, puppy.” Bucky opened his eyes, pressing his lips to hers at once.

“Then give it to me,” she moaned on his lips, holding his face close to hers by the cheek, “give me all of your cum, Bucky. Fill me up until I’m leaking all over myself and your couch.”

“Fuck, doll, I can’t hold back anymore. You wanna be filled up? I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled, popping the fat tip of his cock inside her pussy.

She arched her back for Bucky, desperate to feel more of him, “thank you.”

She missed this cock stretching her to her limits so bad. She missed its girth and its veins and the hot cum it paints her walls with.

Bucky could all but let go at the first clench of her pussy, feeling his cum shoot inside of her until it had filled her up to the brim.

He watched her sigh in satisfaction, a smile spreading on her sweet face as Bucky’s hot load filled up her pulsating cunt.

Bucky reluctantly slipped out of her, watching his cum leak out of her ruined pussy, “oh thank you, doll.”

She couldn’t keep her thighs off the couch anymore, body limp and exhausted. She hissed once again when her raw skin touched the rough couch but didn’t pull her legs back up.

Bucky sighed, kissing her forehead lovingly before going to the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean her up.

He tried to be gentle as he moved around her skin, wiping away the cum and the sweat. He went to leave the cloth in the bathroom and when he came back, she was tiredly perching herself on his lap.

Bucky smiled, taking the calendula cream from the coffee table to finally rub some against her marked butt and thighs. Aftercare was the most important part and he wasn’t about to forego it.

“How the hell did he fail at making you cum?” Bucky couldn’t help but ask as his palm rubbed circles on her sore skin.

“I guess it was me and my unorgasmable pussy.” She chuckled, making Bucky even madder at the man.

He had caused her to think there was something wrong with her and her body?

“Seems pretty orgasmable to me, doll. He’s the one with a broken penis.” Bucky grunted, focusing on keeping his touch gentle on her skin.

“Could make the other girl cum just fine, so not that broken.” She mumbled into her forearms as she rested her chin on them, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

“What?”

Now Bucky really was angry.

“He cheated on me.”

Her voice was so sad, so shattered.

“Doll,”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if there was even something to say to make this better.

“Yeah, found them together in his bed and everything. They do try to cover up with the white bed sheet just like the movies.” She chuckled again.

She was making jokes, trying to make light of her pain like she always would, but Bucky wasn’t laughing.

“Doll, I’m so sorry. He’s an asshole.”

“It’s fine, really. Doesn’t come as a surprise to me that I wasn’t enough for him.”

“It isn’t fine and you are enough. You’re everything.”

“Bucky, you don’t have to—”

“Be my girl.”

“What?” Her head whipped back so fast, thinking she must have imagined the words.

“Forget about the rules and the deal and forget about our fears. Be my girl, doll,” Bucky repeated.

“Buck, I—”

“I know I’m messed up beyond repair, but if there’s one thing I can’t mess up, it’s loving you, doll. And if I suck at it, let me die trying my best for you.”

“Why’d you have to go and talk about dying now!” She sat back up, not waiting for her skin to fully absorb the cream as she straddled him again.

Her body was hot all over as she took it his words; words she had imagined him saying while standing alone in the shower so many times before that she’d lost count.

“Be my girl.” Bucky smiled, “let me love you like you deserve, doll.”

“You—”

“Yes. I love you,” Bucky admitted, shrugging, his blunt nails clawing at the small of her back nervously.

“You love me love me?”

“I love you love you.” His palms flattened against the small of her back as he nodded with a bigger smile.

“I love you love you!” She exclaimed angrily, “why didn’t you say anything!” She punched Bucky’s chest.

“Ow!” Bucky laughed, holding her hand midway before she could hit him again, “I didn’t think I deserved you.” He kissed her fist.

The gesture left her quiet as a smile formed on her face despite herself.

She cupped Bucky’s cheek and kissed his lips softly, “you’re an idiot.”

“Still think I don’t deserve you, doll. But I can’t pretend like I’m not madly in love with you anymore.”

He tried to deepen the kiss but she pulled away, shocked.

“Bucky, what are you talking about? If anything, I don’t deserve you!”

“Baby, you deserve the whole world.”

“I don’t want the whole world!” She threw her hands in the air, “just one idiot who would hold me on his lap after a good spanking,” she mumbled shyly, making Bucky laugh.

“This one idiot is all yours if you’d have him, doll.” Bucky’s smile was for once reaching his eyes as he brought her in for another kiss.

“I love you,” she repeated, throwing her body around his, holding him tight, fearing it might be a dream.

“I love you too, baby. I don’t deserve you but fuck I love you so much it keeps me up at night like a teenager,” he confessed in her hair, his big hand pressing her closer to him.

“Stop saying that.” She looked him in the eyes, “you deserve everything good in this whole universe and then some. I just hope I could be enough.”

“Could be enough— doll, you’re enough. You’re just right. The exact amount. You’re it. You’re the best for me and the only one I want.”

She didn’t know what to say to that so she put her lips on Bucky’s again and let the kiss demolish her fears and insecurities.

She was in Bucky’s arms and she was enough. She was safe and loved.

This was Bucky. Bucky, who was never intimidated by her professional success. Bucky, who has met her at her worst. Bucky, who has never done her wrong. Bucky, who has gotten to see the real, raw her and never turned away.

It was in that very moment that she realized that running away from Bucky to find love with other men was the worst crime she had committed against herself because now the mere idea of being out of this man’s arms and heart was too illogical and incredulous to even consider.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated on her lips as they caught their breaths.

And she could see it all in his loving, blue eyes as they adored every inch of her face: she was home and she was never getting lost again.

~

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#dom!bucky x sub!reader #dom!bucky #dom!bucky barnes x sub!reader #dom!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x female yn #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x reader smut #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky oneshot #bucky barnes one shot

[pinkiemachine]

Diana Prince and Steve Trevor

Okay, okay—yes—I am taking a lot of influence from the 2017 live action film, but I thought they did a pretty good job (minus the moustache. If you know, you know.) Anyway, I did make some changes. First off, Steve is British. There was a very distinct difference between the mindsets of the soldiers depending on which country they were from, and I’d prefer to explore WW1 through the eyes of a British soldier rather than American. I’m also still deciding whether or not to keep him a spy or to make him a pilot because, while at first glance at the movie, the idea of him being a spy sounds all cool, it really only serves one purpose and it’s at the beginning of the film and then him being a spy almost loses all meaning (except for that one scene at the party). I then thought that making him a pilot would be a better option because, hey, he crashes onto Themyscira in a plane, doesn’t he? And come on, you do need to be taught how to fly those things. Anyway, that aside, Steve’s personality: He’s a relatively stand-up bloke who just wants to go home and take care of his mum. It’s 1917, which means it’s been roughly three years since the War’s started. His dad’s already died in the service of his country. His older brother too. He can’t risk dying now, someone’s gotta come home to his mother and take care of her.

When his brother and father enlisted, they were all for serving. Everyone was. They were promised an easy war. A noble war. An opportunity to stand up to tyranny and let righteousness prevail. What they found instead was Hell. WW1 was unlike anything the world had yet seen—some of the things—the weapons—invented and used in this war are downright creative in their ruthlessness and twistedness. Steve’s done. He wants out. He’s not coming back.

Diana, on the other hand, still has not seen active combat. She’s battle ready and gung-ho to jump into the middle of this war… but Steve rebukes her. Their story is one about maturity and the nature of right and wrong. Is it right to fight? What’s the right way to fight? Is WW1 really justified when you look at how many men had to die? Just the nature of war, in general. A big topic, I know. But if you’re gonna write a WW1 story, write a WW1 story. And you know something, after reading about it all, the Wonder Woman movie seems downright PG by comparison.

Diana proves to Steve that there is still good in the world, while Steve teaches Diana to be wary of those who are not so good. Diana helps to bring a little joy back into Steve’s life after everything he’s been through, and Steve teaches Diana about some harsh realities of the 20th century. They balance each other out nicely.

#fan art #art #dc #dc comics #Wonder Woman #Diana prince #diana of themiscyra #Steve Trevor #Diana x Steve #Wonder Woman x Steve trevor

[kaivenom]

One piece DILFs asking you to live with them... HCS

(obviously, we know they sure have better houses than us)

Characters: Mihawk, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Smoker, Shanks.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

Him living in a big island castle means that you already had many things on there and you spent many days with him on a row.

The other thing is that when you aren't on the castle, you both spent many time separated, due to his work and yours.

That times when he goes back to the castle and you aren't there and he has to ask you to come and wait days or even a couple of weeks to come, that's when he decides he needs you all the time.

You both were taking breakfast, he was reading a newspaper and you got up to heat your tea/coffe/milk.

"You should spent more time here."

"I already spend a lot of time here."

"Yeah, but i mean... all the time."

"Are you asking me to move in with you, permanently?"

"Kind of..."

He is a lonely, tough men, he really wants to come to the castle after his shichibukai job and find you, but leaving is rough exterior is difficult.

You got close to him and take out his newspaper, you give him a little kiss on the cheek and accept his offer.

Moving all your things from your village to his island was difficult and of course a little hard to explain to people, because you couldn't say you are dating that man.

But moving all your things was worthy, even when you already had a lot of your things there.

Sir Crocodile

He is a bussiness men, a very dangerous one.

He likes to spoil you with gifts and affection and since he has a lot of berries, he buys you so much clothes that you both decided to keep them in his house, so you already had clothes and other things there.

He is a little control freak of HIS things, so he hires people to follow you and keep you safe, as he says.

That makes you upset, so you confront him on his office.

"Why there are so many people following me?"

"I told that idiots to be discreet, i will fire them."

"That doesn't matter, why?"

"Because i like to keep my inversions safe."

"That's what i am? well, inversions are kept on hidden lockers, so what are you going to do next... lock me?"

"Do you want to live with me?" you didn't know how to answer, "you are more than an inversion and i will have peace on mind if you sleep every night with me and my security alarm."

You thought about it for a moment and nodded slowly, every second the idea sounded better.

You spent the night in his house and when you were the next day preparing yourself to go get your things, all of them were already on the front door.

Apparently your powerful bussiness boyfriend had sent his staff to broke into your house and get all packed.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He doesn't ask you, he informs you.

You had a really good night with him, there was a moment when he got jealous over a dude but after that everything was perfect.

When you both ended your night things, you decided to back to your house since you had to work early tomorrow.

You open the door and find that all your things were gone, you thought someone broke in, you were almost crying and were about to call Doflamingo (since he is the king of Dressrosa he is the better person to call)

Then a large figure appeared behind you.

"Hi little thing." your breath paused from the shock.

"Why are you here? You have something to do with these?"

"Of course, you really thought someone could break in my girl's house? do you think i would let you go home without my supervision?, you underestimate my possesiviness towards you."

"And why? you are mad because of that guy on the bar? that's why all my things are gone?"

"Partly yes, your things are not gone, they are on my palace," his arms lifted you from the ground, "seeing that stupid man made me realize that i need to keep a better eye on you... that's why this isn't your house anymore, so lets go home."

Even if you wanted, you couldn't say no, you don't know how are you going to adapt to these new change but you have no option.

Smoker

He is a marine, which means he is a very traditional man (on my perspective), under his rough marine reputation, he want's to do things right with you.

All marine officers have a big house provided by the goverment, he has a estable job, paid vacations and all the requirements to be a good choice partner to live with.

So after thinknig all of that, he decides to make a plan to ask you out.

He makes dinner for you both, not anything fancy, he is a direct man and he doesn't want you to think he is going to propose to you... yet.

The dinner was in his house, and was one of the best dates you both have, even if he couldn't cook the meal right.

"So, i was thinking... i am a man with a stable job, a high rank, a good salary, a good house."

"Are you going to propose?" you couldn't believe it, it felt like it was to soon.

"No, if i wanted to kneel with a ring i would have taken you to the best restaurant i could, like the Baratie or things like that."

"Who would have thought you are such a romantic man."

"I am not."

"Clearly, then what?"

"I am trying to ask you to move in with me."

"We both are marines, i have the same privileges as you."

"Yeah, but i am one rank higher than you, which makes me the one who would ask you to move in." he looks so proud about it.

"Fine, but what we do with my house?"

"We do the paperwork and we should receive a contribution for it and maybe we can't take our next vacations together to a nice island."

"You never take vacations, you love your job more than me."

"Believe me, if this happens, then we will take vacations together."

"Okey, then you should help me to move in, come on." you were already getting up to start moving, the excitement was making you not see things clear."

"I think we can do that tomorrow, now i want you to stay here." he took your hand and sat you on his lap.

Shanks

He is pretty fast to ask you in and well, moving in has two meanings: joining his crew and moving to his quarters.

The first one is really fast because he is a pirate and doesn't spent to much time on a village.

After trying to delay as much as possible his leaving while he thinks about asking you or not, he decides to give it a shot.

"(Y/N)-chan, do you want to live a big pirate life?" he says while passing his arm around your shoulders with a big smile, he looks like he is trying to recruit you to a cult.

You accept and now you are a part of the crew, you have your own quarter on the ship and you like being with the crew.

After a couple of months, you start getting involved with your captains, you were worried about what your crewmates would think about it.

He is worried too, he knows that everything is all fun and with no strings while you both have your different spaces. He knows once you moved permanently to the captain quarter, it would be official and irreversible.

That situation lasted a couple of weeks more till he couldn't wait anymore.

"Hey, sit down," he was waiting for you with a cup of sake, "i konw we've been doing things."

"If that's what you want to call it, then i am dissapointed."

"I mean, this isn't official to the rest of the crew and the world, even if it is to me," he interviewed his fand to yours, making you see you are important to him, "and i don't know if you are ready to take the next step, cause if you do, you will be known as "Akagami Shank's partner," he makes a dramatic pose, before going back to his serious face, "i want you to move to my quarters, if you want to be publicy known as..."

"Yes, i want, even with your stupid snores and your cold feet, i would like to sleep next to you every day."

"Ahhhh, how great it's to hear that... i don't know what i have done if you said no." he gave you a kiss got back to his dramatic being again.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x you #op #op x you #op x reader #op imagine #smoker one piece #smoker #smoker x reader #smoker x you #smoker imagine #shanks #red hair shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks imagine #red haired shanks #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile x you #crocodile imagine #sir crocodile x you #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile imagine #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo x reader #donquixote doflamingo x you #donquixote doflamingo imagine

[bitterchocoo]

Can you do Boothill with a male reader who has the abilities of Absolute Solver from murder drones

Male reader went missing after the ICP destroyed Boothill's homeland. Many years later, Boothill and the other met male reader but male reader already got possessed by the Solver

I want an angst with a happy ending story please

Absolute

Boothill | M. Reader as the Absolute Solver [Murder Drones]

----------

"The flesh demands invitation."

----------

"What are you doing all smiling like that?"

"Huh? Oh nothing."

[Name] narrowed his eyes at Boothill's words, not believing it. He says it was nothing, but his scans say otherwise. The other can't help but laugh at [Name] expression, those neon [Color] eyes that narrowed on his visor. "I was just thinking about what to get my daughter."

"I see, got any ideas yet?"

"I'm thinking..."

Without saying anything else, [Name]'s visor changes to that of a shopping list. "Well there are countless gifts you could get from across the galaxy so—"

"Wait wait wait!"

His visor glitches and goes back to normal. [Name] looked at Boothill for a second seemingly confused. What was that about?

"I want to make it special."

"Oohh.." [Name] blurred out as he finally understands. "If you're going to handmade it. I could help if you like."

"Heh, thanks [Name]."

For as long as he knows [Name], the robot is a kind person who's happy to help those in need. He was a joy. Everyone was. Everyone on his home planet was a joy, like a small neighborhood. Everyone gets along with one another, there's rarely any conflict it's just a nice and welcoming place. Home.

Therefore [Name] didn't deserve this, none of them deserved this. It's outrageous. What did they do? What kind of sin did they commit to have on this planet. Their home. Destroyed in such a way.

As Boothill look at the surrounding fire and destruction of his home, he began to search around the area. Any place he thinks people will be at. Anywhere.

There are at least survivors right? Surely there are some people who survived this.. who saw the attack an immediately run towards a safe place.. surely..

Right..?

But nothing..

Boothill find nothing but ashes and ruins of once someone's home.

Everything..

..is destroyed.

Why.. why does this have to happen? He was happy. They were happy! What did they do to deserve this?

SCREW THE IPC!!

----------

"Upgrading models? cutting maintenance costs? There are many reasons the client may wish to disassemble a drone individual or a series after a period of use. Following these two simple steps is key to avoid—"

"Incompletely disassemble drones may occasionally reboot from software death alone. More than undead federal fine hazards. Its corrupted AI carries an increased risk of future errors."

.

.

.

He stood there completely motionless. How is he supposed to react to that? After so many years...

Staying at the Express may be the best call for him. It's a free ride after all. Not to mention everyone is quite nice. Dan Heng was even willing to show him the Data Bank but...

This is one of them..? One of the information they've obtained during their travels? Don't get him wrong, it's useful, incredibly useful. But... if Boothill were to obtain such knowledge long ago..

He would have properly disassembled him.

To prevent such a fate from happening to someone he holds in high regards. If he were to do that... none of this would have happened!!

He—it screeches as it tries to get out of its restraints. That's not him. That's not [Name]!!

This was just another planet. One where the Nameless has set their sights on. They thought it was just another Stellaron Crisis. But... this is not the work of a Stellaron.. but the work of a drone that's not been properly disassembled.

It continues to screech as the researchers expose the drone to the artificial sunlight. It screeches in pain and agony as the researchers run around, trying to put a stop to this... thing..

He can't watch this.. he can't watch this any longer.

Without saying another word Boothill leave the Cathedral to get some fresh air. He can't. He just can't watch that.. whatever they were doing to someone he cared for.

----------

"MacGuffin." The robotic voice echoes throughout an empty.. bloody.. ruined.. Cathedral.

Is this the type of thing the Nameless has to handle? Not the Absolute Solver no no... Fighting for your muddle fudgling life! Dodging an attack Boothill ready his revolver and shoot the claw-like thing.

It laughs at their attempts. It's six against one and yet they're losing how pathetic! "Thank you for the new host." It stated casually before narrowing avoiding an attach by Himeko's laser with a smirk on it's face the Solver summons it's claws once more and began it's onslaught of attacks. In a blink of an eye, all of them experience multiple near death situations left, right, and center. Fighting someone who can regenerate is cheating! They could be here for all of eternity!

Where's the cure!?

Its perpetual grin seems to widen every time any of them try to harm it which of course never worked as the Solver's regeneration rate is incredibly high. It laughs, summoning a miniature blackhole that was quickly disabled by Welt as he attack the Solver. "Have any of you find it get?" "No, we're still looking!" March replied, firing an arrow at one of it's claws while looking around for the crucifix that holds the data. The cure for the Solver. "Well I'm sorry, but fighting while searching is not easy!" Caelus cuts in, looking around the place as he ducks under the benches to avoid a stray attack. "Just focus on searching, we'll try to cover you!" Dan Heng stated firmly, using his powers as a  Vidyadhara to at least land a critical attack on the Solver.

With each attack the Solver just keep regenerating! But each time they themselves is inching closer to their own demise! Boothill took cover as he reload his bullets while looking at his surroundings for any potential threats. But something else caught his eye..

It's the crucifix!

Quickly taking it from the bloody floor, Boothill examine it for a moment, making sure it's the real deal. After a quick and swift examination, the usb connector pops out at the bottom of it. It's real alright. The cure for the Solver and the key to ending this nightmare.

"Cover for me!" He signaled before making a run for it. The Nameless did their best to keep the Solver at bay until Boothill does the finishing blow and slammed the crucifix usb model straight into the drone's visor and just like clockwork it let out a glitched robotic groan as it tries to take out the crucifix and in its efforts the cure done it's job. Motionlessly throws crucifix away the drone immediately slump to the floor.

Looking amongst themselves, the Nameless stood their ground not knowing whether the fight is over or is the Solver playing tricks on them. With caution Boothill slowly approached his old friend. Surely he's still there right? The Solver is dead. The patch worked! It has to work! Or else it....

Kneeling in front of him Boothill extended his hand. Waiting for a respond from the other. Anything! Much to their surprise the drone took the other's hand, slowly looking up, revealing it's---no, his neon [Color] eyes on his visor while the crack where they inserted the patch is slowly being healed. Yes! It worked! Letting out a dry, pained laugh Boothill gave [Name] a tight embrace. He's back. His old friend's back.

#seme male reader #top male reader #x male reader #x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #hsr boothill #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x male reader #murder drones #absolute solver #murder drones absolute solver

[artdeco-zweig]

hitting partners | patrick zweig

part one

patrick zweig. even the way his name sat in your mouth annoyed you. everything about him did, from his smug smirk, to his attitude he convinced everyone was charming. everyone but you. you saw right through him. patrick zweig was nothing more than a privileged rich kid who never had to work for anything he got. and even worse, he believed he deserved it.

you on the other hand, devoted every moment of your life, since you were 8 years old, to tennis. you breathed it. you worshipped it, like a god. your family wasn’t wealthy, but they were good enough off to afford a tennis coach for you, and your equipment. but that was it. you sacrificed every birthday, christmas, and any other gift worthy milestone for tennis. and you were good, great even, though still young, and bursting with potential. but you would never be a prodigy. where you lacked natural talent, you made up for in discipline and utter devotion to your craft.

something patrick zweig could never even begin to comprehend. patrick was passionate about tennis for all the wrong reasons. he wanted to be great, the best even. but he had no desire in becoming the best. there was no work ethic, no diligence. potential? sure, tons of it. but no backbone to fulfill it. patrick zweig played tennis like he thought the trophy already had his name engraved into it.

and now? now he was your hitting partner.

you had never spent much time considering a career plan besides tennis. for that reason alone, the idea of college never really excited you. you weren’t interested in playing girls with no chance of going pro. matches that didn’t challenge you felt like a waste of time, and a risk of injury not necessary to take. you wanted to be a tennis player, a professional tennis player. so you started touring as soon as you graduated high school and were eligible.

unfortunately enough for you; that was also patrick’s plan. you first bumped into one another at the Tampa Bay Challenger tournament. it was both of your firsts. you watched the men’s final, zweig vs. tornids, and that was when your annoyance began. you had heard of patrick before then, seen his playstyle, you knew the reputation he held. his nickname of ‘fire’ following him into professional play. but without his ‘ice’ counter part, he played more like an inferno.

throughout the final match, you witnessed him smashing his racket to bits, audible swearing, and a brief verbal altercation with a line judge. none of these things were particularly character damning offenses, but they showed a lack of respect for the game. tennis has always been a clean sport, elegant almost. the behavior and temper of the players directly impacts the scoring of the matches. he was giving points away over anger. anger at himself no less, as he was the one tanking in the final set. you found it embarrassing. you knew you could be a bit of a prude with the seriousness you placed on tennis, and its equally prude rules at times. but it was all you had, all you had ever known. and watching someone as naturally talented as patrick zweig, throw games away got under your skin.

at the after party, later that night, you had the displeasure of meeting mr. zweig. you, the women’s Tampa Bay Challenger champion, and him, the men’s runner up. your managers knew each other, so they insisted you meet. you decided to play nice, as patrick had never done anything to you; his play style just had a way of annoying you. your managers briefly pointed to one another before occupying themselves with a conversation with each other.

“patrick zweig, it’s nice to finally meet you” he said outstretching his hand. “and congratulations” he added, as he nodded to the glass trophy settled atop your manager’s table next to you.

“y/n, yes, we must have just missed each other during juniors” you said as your hand, gently reached out and shook his. the gesture feeling a bit formal, but appreciating it nonetheless. his hand was warm, and much softer than you expected. your fingers ghosted past one another, almost aching not to be separated. before you could start out a lie about how he played well and had an unlucky break in his match, he met your eyes directly and asked

“do you always play so timidly, or was that just today?”

“excuse me?” you blinked at him and cocked your head slightly, thinking he must have misspoken and had a different intention behind the question.

“I mean your play style” he continued with no hesitation. “you looked like an entirely different player for the final set. you looked scared, almost shy. you didnt even really celebrate when you hit the winner” he had looked away from you by now, eyes drifting as if he was replaying your every move from the match in his head.

“do you always play that way?” he finished, eyes finding yours again. when he saw your furrowed brows, and blank eyes staring back at him, something washed over him. maybe it was a hint of regret, sorry for the way his question must have sounded, but you were in no mood to pay that any attention.

“actually patrick” you started, eyes locked on his, practically spitting the words down his throat. “i play to win. which i did. which i usually do” you placed your drink on the table, keeping a cool tone, despite the anger bubbling within you. “maybe if your play style were a bit more adaptive, or you showed any hint of control, you would as well” you retorted with a smug smile fueled by the signs of annoyance, your mention of his loss left all over his expression.

“hm” was all he could muster before he picked up the drink you had placed on the table next to you both. your eyes never parted, as if who ever looked away first was resigning the match. his hand steadily brought the glass to his lips and he took a big sip of whatever it was you were drinking. as he placed the glass back down, he smirked slightly, seeming almost fueled, or intrigued, by this rather polite argument. you broke the silence as you wanted to limit any possibility of him getting the last word.

“i have practice early tomorrow, so i need to get going. im sure you have an off day scheduled tomorrow, so please do enjoy the party.” you turned on your heels, perfume catching the wind and blowing right into patrick’s face. you walked away, swaying, content with how the conversation ended in you favor. a tiny part of you wanted to turn around, wanted to know if he was watching you walk away. the larger part of you, somehow, already knew that he was.

two hours later in your hotel room, showered and tucked away for the night, you brooded over his line of questioning again. how dare he? after everything, after how hard you worked, after securing your first professional tournament win, people like patrick zweig still questioned your skill… scared? shy? you were none of those things. you were a tennis player. the very thing patrick had yet to prove himself to be. yes he was talented, incredibly so. but he played tennis how he wanted to. you played tennis how you needed to.

you stirred, unable to drift asleep, thinking about him. you were hung up on the idea that he was willing to ruin your night, question your skill, despite having more than proved yourself just hours prior. hung up on the way he stared back at you, fire burning in his eyes. god, he was so annoying. somewhere, deep down, you were also hung up on the slight shine of your lipgloss painted across his bottom lip; where he had laid his lips a top the gloss stamp yours left on the rim of your glass.

#guys help is this good #are we intrigued #do we want more #enimes to lovers #my favorite #challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig fic #patrick zweig imagine

[lokicraft]

Self indulgent idea about task force 141 rescuing a wrongly-kidnapped scientist/researcher reader. Gender neutral reader, implied American reader implied violence and torture, implications about the reader looking young (I imagine the reader being between 20 and 30 years old). I see it as future tf141xreader, but feel free to imagine otherwise and/or take this idea and run with it as you please. MDNI.

————

Imagine you are a government researcher. Technically a government employee but you are pretty low on the ladder, just starting out at a research laboratory on a small military base. You are so excited to start working with your supervisor/PI, a very influential scientist who has their fingers in a lot of research pies (some more secret than others).

But you have nothing to do with the secret stuff. You’re more interested in environmental research (of which the military does have to pay at least a little bit of attention to, so you work with what you get).

You’re getting out of the lab late one evening, having to stay even after your PI left to clean glassware (your least favorite task). You lock the door to the research building and walk to your car, only to see someone else parked next to you. The hood of their car is open and they look distressed. You don’t recognize them but it’s not like you know everyone on base. So when they ask you for a jump start you agree and start rooting around your car to pop the hood. You just got your hand around that pesky lever when you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head and everything goes dark.

————

You wake up in a dingy concrete room with your arms and legs tied to an equally dingy chair. You are shocked, panicking and in pain, but through the ringing in your ears you hear shouting from outside the room.

“What do you mean that’s not Dr. Scaffer?” An angry accented voice shouts.

“It was bad intel!” Another voice insists, same accent as far as your fuzzy brain can register, “we did not get any physical description, only that they would be the last one out!”

“A head research scientist with top secret clearance won’t look like a kid who just got out of college!” You hear a muffled bang - your heart stops beating in your chest - but the voice continues, dismissive, “I have to do everything myself.”

He enters the room.

————

Two hours later, not that you can really keep track, you are left alone again. Significantly more injured from what you just went through (your brain cannot even ponder the word “torture” through the unceasing static of your thoughts), you realize that you are going to die. Whoever kidnapped you grabbed the wrong person, and unless they want to know about the water quality of the watershed around base you don’t have any information they want. You are no use as a hostage, and you are going to die. You can only hope it will be quick and painless—

You can’t breathe, you were never good at handling stress.

At least when you’re unconscious it doesn’t hurt anymore.

————

Recovering VIPs is well within their capabilities, Gaz thought to himself as he recounted the brief they were given a short two hours ago. But usually if it was a researcher they were rescuing then their area of expertise would be weapons technology, or infectious diseases, or something that’s not water chemistry. It’s not his job to judge, it’s his job to get you back home where you belong. However the judgmental voice in the back of his mind can’t help but kick in, remembering the profile photo they were provided of you.

“They’re quite a cutie, no?”

Gaz is knocked out of his thoughts when Soap catches up to him, both fully geared up and heading to airstrip. Wheels up is in 15 minutes, and Gaz is sure their Captain and Lieutenant  are already in the transport. While Ghost is probably just sitting and “brooding” as Gaz likes to call it, he gives Price a 50/50 on being on the phone with Laswell. Their Captain probably wants to know how a young researcher got kidnapped from an American military base only to end up as a hostage in Russia. Hell, Laswell probably wants to know that too.

“Time ta go save us a bonnie researcher!” Soap proclaims picking up the pace and rushing in front of Gaz. It’s obvious Johnny shares the same thoughts as Kyle when it comes to your appearance, only one is better at keeping those thoughts to themselves.

“Yeah let’s make sure we get them back alive” Gaz responds, his sharp mind working overtime to calculate how long your captors will keep you alive once realizing you are not a spring of top secret information nor a high profile bargaining chip.

“Of course we will mate,” Soap declares, his sober tone almost catching Gaz off guard, “with LT back on the roster we’re at full strength again, n’one left behind.”

Gaz agrees with the sentiment, and taps Soap on the chest lightly as they approach the transport.

“No one left behind”

————

Thanks so much for reading, this is my first time writing something like this so I’m still trying to get the character’s ‘voices’ right and all that. If you decide to build off this idea please tag me! I appreciate y’all 💚

#cod mwii #task force 141 #tf 141 x reader #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #fic idea #text post

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

Six days in a row and you’re ready to keel over. Amid your busy schedule, you hadn’t a chance to fill your quickly dwindling cupboards and fridge. So, after a ten-hour shift on your feet, running all around the tables and between tea rooms, you expend the last of your strength on a quick trip to the shop. 

It isn’t too far out of your way. It’s just a half-block away from your stop. You could wait until tomorrow, your day off, but you’re dying for a strawberry shortcake mochi before you tuck into bed. The rest of your night isn’t too unusual; you’ll be happy to fall asleep to an episode of the same old sitcom that you know by rote. 

You yawn over the bask hooked over your elbow. You have your mochi and a few other staples to get you through; eggs, oat milk, and your favourite brand of granola. You rub your forehead as a stitch threatens to imprint itself permanently. Tomorrow you’ll do a proper shop. 

You stop just before the cashier and peruse the discount shelf. Those chocolate-covered gummy worms are deadly. You shouldn’t. 

You reach for the package, eyeing it up, blinking away another yawn. Those will only have you waking up with a sore tummy. 

“You’d be better off with the dark chocolate, or even the peanuts,” someone says. The timbre is dulcet but firm, and strangely familiar. 

You look over at the figure standing around the side of the shelves. You fear you might be hallucinating as you stare at Raymond. He has a square of protein chocolate in hand but sets it back where he got it, making certain it and every other bar is straight. 

“Oh, hi?” You stammer.  

The tea shop is busy and you’re certain you’ve probably crossed paths with at least one customer outside store hours, but never like this. If anything, you both look the other way and carry on. Instead, he’s intent on you, shifting to face you fully as he sets his shoulders, clutching his hands before him. 

“Though I do suppose you’ve already got the ice cream, it hardly matters what else you add to your lot,” he muses. 

You look in your basket then at him. Is he judging you? Mr. Black Tea, plain. You hang the bag back on the hook. As you do, he steps forward and you shuffle back on your heels. He pulls the bag in line with others, rescinding his hand with a flutter of fingers. 

“If you’re in the mind for something sweet, there’s a place near here, it has a sticky toffee pudding more worth the expense,” he suggests. 

You don’t know what to say. You haven’t seen him since he muttered about your apron strings. In the two weeks after, you assumed he might not come back. As particular as he is, you thought you’d gone egregiously over the line. And yet, you’d forgotten about him for all the other bodies passing through the door. 

“Thanks, I’ll look into that,” you say. 

“Mm,” he hums and his eyes flit up and down behind his lenses, “you sound different.” 

“Do I?” You reach to scratch your neck. 

“You look different too.” 

You tilt your head and give a confused grimace, “well, I...” you glance down, “suppose I'm not wearing my apron.” 

“Must be it,” he agrees, “you sound tired.” 

“I guess... yeah,” you take a breath and let it out slowly.  

It’s strange. He’s not a customer here, there is no need to please and yet you feel you must. You poke the tip of your tongue out then hide it behind your lips. 

“Not in a bad way,” he assures you.  

“Right, thanks,” you say in a fracture, “that’s nice, but uh, I... I’m just on my way home.” 

“I know,” he says. 

“...so then I’ll just be--” you point towards the checkout and falter, “what did you say?” 

“Yes, down Trafalgar. I know. It’s late,” he peers over towards the transparent walls along the front of the shop, “these parts aren’t too safe this time of day.” 

“Trafal--“ you begin but can’t finish, “Raymond.” 

He blinks, his expression scarily placid. 

“Details,” he says evenly, “it is best to keep note of them. It is dangerous not to mind them.” He raises a finger, “one might not notice the shadow that walks behind theirs or the window they left open in the kitchen.” 

Your lip trembles as your heart sinks, “have you... have you been following me?” 

“Following... that sounds sinister,” he gives a crooked expression, “no, no, I would consider it... I keep you safe.” 

“Safe. From what, exactly?” 

He narrows his eyes and his lips straighten thoughtfully.  

“Well, from men like me.” 

His words turn your blood to ice. Men like him. What does he mean? 

“I...” you take a step back and he moves with you. You put your hand up to stop him as you still, “Raymond, do not come any closer.” 

“You don’t understand, I wouldn’t hurt you,” he says, “that’s what makes me different. Not like those other men.” 

“I mean it,” you warn him. “If you come any closer, I will make a scene.” 

Your adrenaline courses through you. You’re awake now. The yawns have dissipated and your eyes are wide. 

“Ah, and that’s where I am like the other men,” he shrugs, “it doesn’t matter if I come closer to you right now. Hardly matters. Because I can wait. I have waited. And when I...” he steps towards you and you put the basket between you, his stomach pressing against it, “come closer, you will not even see me coming.” 

You stare at him, horrified. His blue eyes gleam and he reaches to straighten his glasses. He smirks and his brows draw up coyly. He leans in and you lean away. Then suddenly, he backs off and tugs his cuffs straight, then fixes his tie. 

“Don’t forget to close your window,” he says as he spins on his heel, “wouldn’t want some nocturnal creature creeping in.” 

You gape after him as he saunters off. You can’t quiet move as disbelief has you stuck to the spot. It’s all so sudden. So unexpected. How could you ever predict something like this? The uptight man from the tea shop, a stranger really, a face who disappeared for a whole fortnight, and he’s just shaken your entire world into disarray. 

Men like him? You don’t even know who he is. Only his name and how he likes his tea. 

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #dark!raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #the gentlemen #series #drabble #au #sweet and spicy #to a tea

[l3irdl3rain]

this whole gofundme thing has turned into a giant nightmare and I’ve learned my lesson about raising the funds before actually having said procedure done. I’ve got some ideas about what to do going forward but just wanted to throw them out to the masses before I send out any official gofundme update.

Gofundme won’t help me refund the money because it’s already transferred to my bank account. I think someone could probably report me on there for misusing funds but I don’t think that would look good for me? That’s a last resort if I can’t figure out how to get this solved. Idk if there’s any actual repercussions for that for me but I do not think I want that.

I can’t contact everyone who donated individually bc gofundme doesn’t tell me everyone’s email / phone number. However I’m thinking I could send out an update and give my own contact info? And then I could give people the option for what they want done with their money. I could offer a refund through PayPal, donate it to another person’s animal related gofundme me or a rescue, or I could set it aside for my other pet related costs.

I had said in the gofundme that any money not put towards Persephone’s treatment would be set aside for future pet expenses. But that was when I thought I’d have maybe $100 extra or something small. Not when I potentially might not be using ANY of the money for her.

Idk guys this is a nightmare for me lol. Because I would hate for people to feel like I swindled them. So I’m just throwing shit out there to see what you folks think.

#my post #not pets

[meownotgood]

more mermaid reader x sailor aki. part 2 of this. ignore how long this is... my... brain worms...

aki returns to sailing a few days later. granted, it's in a much smaller boat: one of his spare fishing boats he used before he saved up enough to purchase a proper one. the ocean can never keep him away for long, no matter what it chooses to throw at him. the familiar sun warms his skin, his lungs filled with breath after breath of the sea. rays shimmer off of clear, cool water. it's hard to believe, almost, that this sea was once rocky and wild. that pelting rain, strong winds, and salty depths almost claimed him.

the water is clear enough, in fact, to allow aki to easily spot a glimmer of green scales and a long, damaged tail.

you've been swimming not far from the shore for a few days now. aki figures you can't head back into the deeper parts of the ocean; you're weak, after all. he can spot you for brief moments amongst the rocks and seaweed, but each time he brings his boat in your direction, you disappear as quick as he noticed you.

aki is beginning to question if he's even capable of helping you in the first place. he doesn't fault you for being scared, for not trusting him. he can hardly think of a reason why you'd choose to save him, really. but if he doesn't get you out of this cove, someone is going to notice. someone with much worse intentions.

so aki throws himself back into his boat and sails into the water, again and again. to little success, of course. after days of trying, the closest he ever gets to you is a few feet away; you hover close to the surface of the water, your hair flowing around you, stray nets of fishing line caught in the mess of your tail. your eyes meet his. aki remains still, wonderment in his gaze. but when he reaches out, fingertips hesitantly skimming the surface of the water, you twist and dive deeper, vanishing into the distance.

he's almost ready to give up. to accept you don't trust him, and leave you to your own whims. until, when he's taking a break from searching, lying back on his boat and watching puffy white clouds pass, he manages to spot a shimmer in the very corner of his vision — aki turns, to see you're already staring at him. head tilted, soft eyes on his, your fingers delicately holding the edge of his boat. you let go as he sits up, but for once, you don't disappear. you swim back a bit, and you eye him up and down, the same pinch in your brows he remembers seeing before. but for once, you stay.

aki feels like he's just struck gold. his heart pounds, and he holds as still as possible, trying to think of something to say, something to do. he has his hair half-up, shell-shaped earrings glitter on his lobes. you notice he has nothing in his small boat, save for a brown pack in a far corner. you examine him cautiously, anyways.

"hello," aki manages. he cringes at how nervous he sounds. can you even understand him? he's known sirens to be able to imitate human speech, but mermaids are completely different. they have their own manner of speaking, and they try to stray away from humans whenever possible. your expression changes slightly when you hear him speak. he can't tell if you have any idea what he's said or not. you look annoyed, almost, the fins on your ears pulled back like a cat about to hiss.

raising out of the water a bit more, you give him his first clear view of your face. parts of your shoulders and chest are textured with the same layer of scales as your tail. you raise your hands above water, and you sign.

aki wishes he paid more attention when he was a kid, to the sign language lessons his parents tried to teach him, because then, maybe, he would be able to speak to you freely. his parents were fishers too. they spent every sunlit day on the ocean, up until when they passed away. there's no use in communicating with mermaids, aki thought — he doesn't care to understand them when they have no interest in people.

and yet, you are different. you're here. you saved him. the storm on that fateful night could have taken him, just as it had once taken his parents. when his brother went out to look for them, only to never been seen again, aki prayed for the cruel ocean to have mercy. he hated it. hated the smell of the sea and the whisper of calm waves, but it was all he had left.

it would drown him some day. he knew it would have him in the end, grasping him in dark watery clutches, like how it took everything he once cared about. when the water was choking him, invading his lungs and promising to be his coffin, until his vision was fading into frothy nothingness, he wasn't afraid of death. the ocean is a home for those with nothing left to lose. still, you saved him from that fate.

why, why was his family left to die, while he was made to live?

he's not sure. there probably isn't a reason. no god is taking pity on him, nor the universe, nor the ocean itself — even though its fierce waves should be punishing him. this is his fault. he's the one who toys with death, who doesn't give a damn towards his own well-being. he's the one who got his brother killed.

all he knows now, is that if he gave up here, if he let you die, he'd only be allowing another sacrifice to be in vain. mermaid or not, it doesn't matter. he wouldn't forgive himself.

your mouth presses into a line. your tail sways, while you gesture to him, to yourself. aki takes a moment or so to grasp what you're trying to say. I know who you are.

blinking, he stares at you with slight confusion. your palms cup together, and they imitate the bob of a vessel on waves. boat. your fingers splay and cross over, matching the crosshatch pattern of mesh, before you reach out and imitate a large shape. net. you make a gripping, stabbing motion. harpoon.

"oh," aki swallows, gaze darkening. "I... I get it."

he tries to formulate a response as quick as possible. you watch, wide-eyed, as he clumsily — endearingly, somewhat — attempts to recall what signs he knows. safe, he demonstrates, with a swift movement of hands clenched, arms crossed over. and then, help, followed by an awkward point to himself. he swears under his breath sharply, stalling, struggling to remember. until finally, he signs hastily: sorry.

your gaze scans him, unreadable. he begins to move slowly, his eyes kept on yours. he reaches back, he grabs the strap of his bag. abruptly, you flinch, dipping below the water slightly.

"no, no, it's okay," aki reassures, holding up his palms. you freeze, and perhaps you can understand him, or maybe it's just his smooth voice reassuring you — but still, again, you don't run. thankfully. aki places his bag in his lap and fiddles with the zipper, shaky, nervous hands struggling to do it right.

"I brought supplies. to help you," he says; he digs around his bag once he has it open, he grasps a roll of gauze and takes it out to show you. "see? don't know how well this'll work, but-" he shows you a small bottle, "I brought disinfectant," another bottle, this one is clear, with liquid sloshing inside, "fresh water." then, he pulls out a large hunting knife, the blade sheathed in leather. still, you know exactly what it is. "to cut the fishing line."

your eyes are wide. you tense, you retreat into the water on instinct, leaving just the top of your head visable.

"it's okay, don't run- no knife? alright, okay. that's fine."

aki stands, the boat wobbling slightly from the shift in his weight. you lift up again, just in time to watch him chuck the knife as far as he can into the ocean. it hits the water with a slight plip, only to sink down until it's gone from view.

"there. I won't hurt you, I promise." his gaze meets yours again, and you seem to breathe deeply, relaxing. your expression carries a hint of understanding. aki kneels down, close to the boat's edge. "it's alright if you don't trust me. but please, at least let me repay you. come here, I'll pull you up."

he extends a hand out towards you, and you give him one more quick once over. carefully, hesitantly, you swim closer. aki admires the way sunlight shimmers in the scales on your cheeks, the way your finned ears twitch in interest. you reach up, your delicate fingers brush his — warm, you are warmer than he thought you'd be. delightfully warm. you take his hand, your palm is soft, yet slippery. aki grasps back, and he pulls.

you're dragged up, as aki heaves you onto the boat, making the whole thing sway and his brows knot from the effort. he grasps both your forearms to make it easier. when the weight of your large tail finally rests down in the boat, he's stumbling back. the entire boat is shifting, and you're falling forward as he's losing his footing.

aki tumbles onto his back with a huff, you settle on his chest — oh, how your poor heart races, pattering to a rapid rhythm between your ribs. your hair drips with water, echoing a steady noise when droplets hit the wooden deck of his boat. his palm idly presses to the small of your back as he sits up.

his touch, the reserved sailor you saved that night, with long dark hair, and handsome features you found unforgettable. he was alone when you decided to follow him. sailing alone, late at night with only the light of the moon and the lanterns on his ship to guide him, while thunder rolled overhead and promised sleeplessness to come. he was either a reckless idiot, a self-sabotaging fool, or both. the dark water hid you from view as you followed in the wake left by his ship. you weren't intending to meddle, but when lightning struck down and his boat crumbled, when he went plummeting into the deep, were you just supposed to leave him to the waves?

should you have just let him die?

you pondered it, while hiding in the rocks of the cove, busying yourself with trying to pull splinters of driftwood from the gash in your tail. you have no allegiance to humans, especially senseless ones. you could have left him so easily and never once turned back. but —

aki glances up at you, lightly catching his breath. and he smiles. his eyes crinkle, his lips tip upward. the way he looks at you is the softest, most genuine thing you've ever known.

you've been hiding all your life. you have never been familiar with anything but the depths, and the occasional ships that drift past. you know humans are dangerous. you haven't spoken with your own kind since you were a child, but you've witnessed what they can do, you've been told they'll hunt you if they see you. for your tail and your scales and the glory; you shouldn't have saved him, that much is obvious. everything was telling you that you shouldn't have.

but aki is the first human you've ever met, and the first person to ever smile at you. in a singular moment, all of your regrets disappear, to be replaced by tender, heart-pounding warmth.

"hello," he repeats, breathing a slight sigh in satisfaction. god, he did it, you trust him. adrenaline runs thick in his veins. he has a damn mermaid in his lap, of all ridiculous things.

he allows his gaze to trail over you. he examines your tail, delicate fins tangled up in fishing line. most of your tail looks salvageable. with the missing section of your end fins, you'll likely never swim the same. but once the wound is given a chance to properly heal, he thinks you could definitely be able to leave the cove.

your arms have scales, your wrists and waist are adorned with pearls and shells tied to form makeshift jewelry. around your neck, you're wearing a familiar, rusted silver pendant.

aki reaches towards you, gazing at you gently. your eyes narrowing, he notices when you flinch, and he stops, but you don't move. instead, you allow him to reach close enough to carefully grasp the pendant around your neck.

his thumb runs over the engraved surface. he knew what he saw glinting around your neck wasn't just his imagination. "my locket. you found it."

you eye him silently, for a moment. then, you push away from his chest. you sit up, curling your tail around yourself. aki props up along with you, and you begin to reach back, searching for the clasp on the necklace. you sign one-handed, by pointing to your forehead, then to him. for you. you hold out the necklace, aki's palm outstretched to take it.

for you. his heart skips a few beats at that, somehow.

although, first, you're carefully prying the locket open. you place it into his palm, facing him. your fingertip points to the small picture on the inside. a black and white photo, torn and faded, of a young smiling boy with short, black hair.

you point towards aki next, brows raised. you?

"oh, no," aki shakes his head. he closes the locket, and he puts the necklace into his back pocket.

brother, he signs with both hands. he takes a steady, shuddering breath. then, he glances away for a second. his next sign is done much slower. almost as if every word is formed in earnest. thank you.

you hesitate. a part of you wants to tell him you're welcome, another part of you is set on just staring at his pretty face until he notices. in the end, as aki's dumb, soft smile makes your heart race faster, your lips are left to purse into a pout.

you, you're pointing. foolish, you gesture hastily, almost angrily, with your thumb and your pinkie finger. your temple is knotted, droplets of water shimmer over your skin. then, you sign something he doesn't recognize. some form of movement that certainly carries a hint of disdain, pointing to him first, before two of your fingers press to your palm.

you demonstrate the sign again when he has no response, no reaction besides a small smirk — moving faster, hastier this time. he only shrugs. you breathe a frustrated exhale, and decide to spell the word instead. recalling what you've read from dropped books and drifting bottles, you picture the letters, and you let your hand carefully sign each one.

h- u- m- a- n.

aki shakes his head. he points to himself, he signs instead: a- k- i.

aki. you've never heard such a thing before. his name, perhaps? in that case, you don't think you'll be able to forget it.

"my name is aki," he murmurs. the breeze from the sea rustles his dark hair. it brushes over your cool skin, and you blame your resounding shiver on that, instead of his voice. finally, he points to you, this time. "and you?"

#was not expecting to write about him all day but... here we are #aki possesses me too easily #he'd be so handsome as a sailor... his hair up and perhaps with slightly tanned skin.... GAH!! #content that caters to myself. I love you #aki <3

[petew21-blog]

Family fun

"Hi, I'm Simon and I'm an alcoholic." Haha. I'm just kidding. I'm just a normal nineteen year old kid still living with his widowed father and his three brothers. Today I was suppose to go on a trip with my 4 friends - Michael, Nathan, Daniel and Connor. I was ready to leave, but suddenly my - always happy and kind dad - started screaming about me not doing enough for our family, not doing chores and he banned me to go on the trip. I texted my friends, but only Connor replied:"Better luck next time. C ya". Then my dad even took my phone from me. I have no idea what I have done, but I didn't question him right now. Maybe later when he cools off.

My brother Alex came downstairs and offered me to go with him to the store. He acted different. I can't tell why, but he kept teasing me, which he usually doesn't. He is the quiet one.

We got into the store. I went to get some vegetable and when I got back to him. He was standing there completely naked

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Hurry. Give my some clothes!!! I lost them!"

"How can you just loose your clothes you're wearing?!?"

"Doesn't matter. Give me something."

I gave him my jeans, my shirt, leaving me only with my socks, sweatshirt in my hand and my boxers. He put on the rest and then laughed as he took the sweatshirt from my hands and ran away.

I was standing in a storeonly in my underwear. How embarassing. Alex was standing outside of the store with a phone in his hand already recording and laughing

"What the hell is wrong with you today?"

"Haha. Nothing. Just... enjoying life."

We returned back home. Alex went to show my other two brothers how he humiliated me. I went upstairs to find my father in my bathroom completely naked. He held my phone in his hands and tried to take a nude.

"DAD! What are you doing?!"

He wasn't even shocked and kept trying to get a good photo.

"Oh hey, I was going through your phone and I found this Grindr app where most of the profiles had pictures like this. I thought that maybe it is a dating website and I might have a chance. Maybe I'll find someone there."

THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING

"Dad, please. Go away. And don't install that app. I'll explain that to you later."

He checked himself out again and then winked at me

"Don't act like this isn't the dick that made you. You owe me for that, you know"

Has everyone gone crazy this morning or what the fuck is happening?

I went downstairs, ready for some more weird stuff. But fortunately my two brothers - Joe and Kyle fought. Thank god. The most normal thing in our family that could be happening right now. I sat outside on the porch just briefly watching them fight.

But suddenly the fight turned into this

They made out passionately as many couples in love do. But THEY ARE MY BROTHERS!!!

"STOP! SOMEBODY EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!!!"

All four of the stared at each other back and forth. My dad was the first one who started laughing, then the rest did too.

"What's so funny? Have you all lost your mind?"

"Oh come ooooon. It's just a prank, BRO" said my father

"Besides, would your brother that you secretly have a crush on let you do this?" Alex came to me and placed my hand on his abs, just going up and down and finally going down.

"How... Connor?"

"BINGO! You figured it out. We swapped bodies with everyone in your family just to mess with you. We discovered we could do that last night when we arrived at the campsite, but we decided to surprise you. So, what do you think?"

"Wait. What about my dad and my brothers? Where are they?"

"In the campsite hopefully. But they keep calling your phone, so that's why we took it from you. Seems like we might have some explaining to do. So, until we give these bodies back and might never use them again?" All four of them smiled.

I couldn't believe how perverted my freinds are. And I couldn't believe I didn't really protest.

A story from the inbox: Hello! I love your stories😍😍😍 can u write a story about some friends are doing prank by body swapping with his male family members?

[nyonyen]

INSTINCTUAL

nyen x gn!reader | AO3 | DUBCON 18+ ᴛᴀɢs: somnophilia, blood kink, scratching, predator/prey dynamics, unsafe sex, breathplay, male masturbation, reader is into it, porn with minimal plot ww ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ: my dear friend who has such lovely ideas <3

Nyen wanders about the halls of the Ivory household, unable to rest with how Nyon mutters nonstop Russian nonsense in his sleep. He thought of curling up at the foot of Luther’s bed, relishing in his Master’s presence— but the door of his room was locked. Most likely due to a headache, Nyen hums to himself. He continues to stalk around when he stumbles upon one of the many guest rooms— this one being where you lay fast asleep.

You were a guest of the home, having been found by Luther on one of his late-night excursions. He had almost shot you before he realized you were stuck in some inhumane, albeit harmless, hunter’s trap. Taking immediate pity on such an unfortunate human, Luther decided to nurse you back to health— even if you had assured him you were barely injured.

Nyen and Nyon had watched you from the shadows, whispering about whether they were finally being replaced. You had stayed away from the rest of the house members on the Master’s recommendation, heading straight to bed instead.

This didn’t stop you from catching peeks at them, your eyes widening at the oddities particular to each individual. You were particularly fond of that handsome pink-haired man and his hardened stares— you wish you had more time to get to know him.

The two catmen were slow to realize that this was not a ploy to replace them— it was just their Master's ever-present kindness to the human populace. Nyen, the foremost hunter of the house, had kept a keener eye than Nyon on you. He saw how your hair framed your face, how you bit back winces whenever Luther applied the hydrogen peroxide and gauze. It was intriguing, and he felt tinges of want when he saw your expressions of pain.

Was that so wrong?

As you lay in the uncomfortable bed, staring at the ceiling, you can hear the loud whispers of the people you had just met. You thought about Nyen, as you learned his name might be through your eavesdropping. His voice, even in whispers, sounded so rough and commanding— that is, until, his Master spoke. How interesting it is to see someone so high and mighty silence themselves at the behest of someone else.

You quickly fall asleep, thoughts of taking his cat ear-like hat off flooding your psyche.

Nyen, lost in his own thoughts, finds himself at the front of your door, already hearing the telltale sounds of your chest rising and falling. He could still smell your healing scratches from the trap. He peers through the gap, Luther not allowing you to lock it fully— no one in the Ivory household was permitted. He sniffed the air again, realizing your wounds were perhaps more serious than you let on. The scent was alluring to the catman, it was simply in his nature.

His feet carried him inside the darkened room, steps quiet and calculated— albeit subconscious. You were so peaceful, so serene... so vulnerable. Nyen approaches you slowly, pushing a lock of your hair away from your face. He hadn't seen you up close yet, and it was so worth it— even in this lighting, or lack thereof.

Your hair framed your face perfectly, and your lips were slightly agape in a quiet breathing pattern. You weren’t snoring, you looked so beautiful— he wanted to make you his. His heart beats faster as he brings a finger to trace your arm, moving down towards your blanket-covered legs. Nyen fights back a smirk as he sees the blood seeping through the cotton.

He immediately lifts the blanket, paying no mind to how unseemly the act is. He watches as the gash drips softly through the bandage, you being none the wiser to its increasing. Kneeling to its level, he feels his heart pump even faster as his face approaches the injury. In this light, even with his improved sight, the blood looked like a syrup of some kind— something sweet. In his mind, there was no other option except to taste.

Peeling back the fabric, Nyen’s tongue darts out suddenly— licking where the skin had split from that crude device. The taste was metallic, of course, but had an underlying sweetness like he expected. It wasn’t anything like the gamey ratmen or the bland coyotemen— there was substance.

Luther had steered them away from eating humans for a very long time, on some principle Nyen didn’t pretend to understand— but even then, he had never tasted like human blood like this. His slightly rough tongue speeds in its licking, finding itself quickly addicted.

You stir in your half-awake state, your mind struggling to focus on the increasing wetness on the outside of your thigh. He doesn’t notice at all, only groaning under his breath as your muscle twitches— reminding him of prey caught between teeth.

Nyen feels a sick sense of excitement at this, more so than usual. He subconsciously flexes his claws into his jeans as he presses his face deeper into your flesh. You tasted so good to him, so new and perfect… he was falling in deep. His hand fumbles with his zipper as he tries to focus on lapping at the increasing blood flow— the texture of his tongue most likely the cause.

His breath comes out in a hiss as he grips the base of his cock, he hadn’t realized how painfully hard he had become— had it been since he first smelled the blood on you? Nyen couldn’t care less right now, he just cared about relieving that primal urge. He started with an experimental pump, to test the waters, and his mouth fell open in an unabashed, cracked groan.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness around you at a snail’s pace— but you are deeply aware of the pressure on your body. You hear a flurry of noises, and you quickly realize what’s happening towards the end of the bed. Nyen, even in his borderline inebriated state, notices your stiffening at his actions.

In a flash, he’s on top of you with his hand clamped over your mouth. You can’t see anything but the predatory glint in his eyes.

“Don’t… don’t fucking move, alright?” Nyen’s eyes were wild, and his voice was out of breath. It was more gravelly than you expected.

Lucky for him, you had no intentions to. Your eyes fall from surprise to desire as you see who it is that’s decided to claim you as his— that catman with a staring problem who you had just been dreaming of. Despite your obvious excitement, his hand tightens against your face, impeding your ability to breathe.

His body weighed down on yours as he straddled you, and in your squirming, you find some pleasant friction. You chase this as you take in the feeling of your oxygen being limited and this strange individual who was just masturbating to the taste of your blood— your arousal and interest had been piqued.

“Knew this was gonna be easy,” Nyen smirks at your movements, “Just stay put.”

Tentatively, he pulls his hand from your face as he slinks down your body, the blanket strewn to the other side of the room. He relishes in the feeling of your skin, still tasting its blood on his tongue. You were sure that if the lights were on, you would see his lips tinged with red.

You eagerly pull down your underwear as his head dips— expecting him to dive between your legs. Instead, his tongue laps up more blood from your thigh, and you shiver at the animalistic action. You tremble as his hand grips your other leg, his claws threatening to dig in before raising himself back up to your level with a satisfied groan.

He kneels in front of you, wiping his mouth haphazardly as his hand guides his hardness to your entrance. Painfully slowly, Nyen drags himself up and down the entire length of your wetness, urged on by your quiet whines.

“Don’t get all shy now. I knew from the moment you stepped in our house you needed to get put in your place,” he whispers, even while knowing that no matter what, Randal’s dolls will hear, “And it had to be me, right?”

“Please,” you nod, feeling your voice quiver even with one simple word.

He pushes in, paying no mind to the preparation needed beforehand. Your eyes clamp shut at the size of him, you had barely any visual to work off of. Nyen groans loudly as he bottoms out, his claws half unsheathed into your thighs.

The pain from your injuries felt almost good as he fit inside, a dull feeling exaggerated by his obvious excitement at it all. You feel the pain from your new claw marks as he moves his hands to either side of your head— leaning over you fully. He starts to pull out, only to slam back in. He laughs breathily at your surprised reaction at the pace he’s set from the get-go, but even he wasn’t immune.

“So goddamn tight, fuck…”

As Nyen continues to thrust, he licks his claws from when they had pierced your skin— tasting that sweetness that got him so worked up in the first place. You looked up at him as he did this, your eyes now fully adjusted to the dark as much as you could be— and you swore he looked divine.

You fought to keep your eyes from shutting in pleasure, but his chorus of moans right above you was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced. The angle suddenly changed as he got even closer to your face, his eyes dead-set on yours. Nyen somehow felt deeper, closer to claiming you as he had aimed.

From your perspective, he definitely felt deeper, but he was angled right towards your G-spot. A particularly loud whine erupts from you due to this, and just as before, he swiftly silences you— this time, with a hand around your neck.

You still moaned, but much quieter this time. That high you felt from his covering your mouth was tenfold this time, everything was heightened and practically immobilizing— you felt that knot inside of you tighten.

Nyen was in no better position— he had been hellbent on using you as his own, but his excited state had him almost doubling over in pleasure.

“Stop clamping down so hard, God!” He hissed, his tightness around your throat fading just a little bit. “Gonna cum all the way inside, yeah? That’s what you want?”

Nodding desperately, Nyen is right back to tightening his grip, even deeper this time— claws included. You knew very well how dangerous this situation was: in a weird house in a huge forest, getting fucked by some animalperson whose claws were pressing into your neck— but your desire rivaled that fear. Or, perhaps, they blended together.

He ogled at your willingness in this situation— even if was just stupidity, it got him the same result. It turned him on even more to see your eyes express total submission. You were truly prey he had caught, something all to himself.

With a final thrust, Nyen releases as far inside of you as he can— his hips stuttering from the intensity. Your eyes fall back as your own climax washes over you, that knot unfurling fast as light. The two of you tremble in an odd embrace— both partially covered in streaks of your blood.

As if you hadn’t slept in years, you drift off quickly underneath his body— the only evidence of your not passing away was your still rapid heartbeat. He pulls out, not noticing your lack of consciousness.

“Want me to get you a beer or something?” Nyen zips his jeans back on and fixes his hat. “I didn’t fuck you to death, did I?”

He isn’t scared, per se, when he turns to notice your state— but he did rush to the bathroom to grab the leftover gauze and hydrogen peroxide to fix you right back up. Maybe Luther won’t notice the difference in medical dressing quality.

#nyen ranfren x reader #nyen catman x reader #nyen x reader #ranfren x reader #✎

[frostgears]

We Who Serve

"Lookin' good, Coda! Got something for ya," the student mage said, rolling the shimmering violet soul gem between her fingers.

"Heya, Bree," the artificer grunted. "You look, as always, like a teenage delinquent who styles her own hair using alchemical process runoff."

"Well, I'm hardly going to wear an Academy uniform down to this end of the artificers' quarter. And I don't give you shit for wearing the same reagent-spattered leather apron every time I see you."

"It's shop gear, sweetheart. Some of us have to work for a living. And I see your gem, but it better not have a dream-junkie soul in it this time," Coda grouched. "Remember your last bright idea? Remember the one that was convinced she was still dreaming? Remember the repair work when she tried to fly? Turns out a service compulsion built right into your corporeal form doesn't do jack if your mind is so scrambled that you think you're asleep."

"Dream-junkies usually die alone and unremembered, Coda. And nobody, I mean nobody, cares about them once they start using heavily. I'm practically saving lives, right?"

"Sure. Saving lives. So where's this one from?"

"You really wanna know? Thought you promised me not to ask where the souls come from, when we started doing this thing together."

"Bree. I don't want another attempted flight on my hands. Especially not off a balcony and into the middle of the owner's gala for his daughter's debut. Lost a big client there and had to eat the repair bills. No good, get me? Another like that and we're through."

"And you'd get animating souls for your dolls from where, then? But no worries. No worries at all. This one's from far away, and guaranteed worth the juice it took to bring them here." Bree's smug smile suggested repair bills would be the least of anyone's worries this time around.

"How far away?"

"The other side of a summoning circle."

"Bullshit." The artificer folded her powerful gloved arms across her chest. "You told me you looked into that, and it'd take a dozen mages as powerful as your dean to even try."

"Oh, I didn't do the summoning. Someone else did. You see, I just happen to be in the top twelve of my class…"

Coda raised an eyebrow. "You?"

Bree pouted. It was a good pout, a practiced pout; it had been the undoing of several of her classmates. "Do I not look it?"

"Academy uniform or dancehall grunge, I can't imagine you studying; that's the real fork in the mind's eye."

"I do study! I just… study best when I've got something I want to study, that's all! Anyway. So. Here I am, right? Top twelve in my class. Invited to see, for my education, a ritual that takes place at most once a decade: the Calling of a Chosen Hero."

"That time again already?"

"Evil never rests, or so they say. Anyway, it was very impressive. The best archmages in the Kingdom chanting up a hullabaloo around this huge summoning circle carved into a slab of obsidian. Candles. Incense. Wardlights glowing like a solstice tree. And they literally reach outside the boundaries of this world, Coda, and pull a soul from another one. Very heavy shit, very potently executed. Except just as they've got the soul on this side of the boundaries so they can start building a body for them, Archmage Eldreid has a stroke."

"Well, that can't be good."

"Wasn't great. Ritual falls right the fuck apart. The slab shatters and the circle with it. For a moment the combined light of the wardflames is like a stained-glass sun, but I can see the summoned soul glittering naked in the chaos, and, well," she paused and ran her fingers through her multicolored hair, "I keep my soulcatcher on me at all times because it's illegal as hell, right? Can't leave it lying around the dorms. So, me, soulcatcher, soul… my reflexes kinda took over. Next thing I knew, the docents are rushing all us students out of the room so they can get a healer and a fire crew in there."

"Bree, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"So here's the final thing," she said, ignoring Coda. "I inquired, as soon as possible, as any nervous teacher's pet would, after the health of Archmage Eldreid and the fate of the Hero. Eldreid's gonna be fine in a few weeks. And the conclusion of the other archmages, or at least the one that could be bothered to talk to us, is that 'the Hero's soul simply returned to its own world', and that they'll have to try the ritual again in a month. Which means I have the soul of a Chosen Hero in my hand, and it's untraceable, Coda. Missing and not from this world. You've heard of what they do. Just imagine how good your next doll is going to be."

The artificer took a moment to process this. Then she nodded. "You're mental. But lucky. Happens I've been working on something special. Have a look with me, Bree."

Coda proudly uncovered a draped figure at the far end of the workshop. The doll glistened, caressed by even the fading afternoon light. Its skin was fine white matte porcelain, its many joints glistening darkly iridescent metal barely visible behind ceramic limbs, and its shape a figure of idealized human perfection that any sculptor would have been proud of. Soft cotton ropes in contrasting black wrapped every limb in complex twisted bindings.

Bree whistled. "Wow."

"A cut above the ones you've seen so far, right?"

"It's gorgeous. If it was ensouled right now, I'd be asking if she was single." The student mage bit her lip. "Wait, why's it all tied up so prettily? Coda, you absolute alleycat, is she not single?"

"Gods, the imagination on you, girl. The ropes are just to hold everything in place on the stand during assembly and storage."

"Is it done?"

"Frame was finished weeks ago, shell last week, but the cosmetic detail work took forever. I attached the last of the hair this morning, installed the eyes — so, yes, I suppose it's done."

"Then let's make it go!"

"Eager to get paid, Bree?"

"No. Well. Yes. Academy studies aren't cheap even on a scholarship. But you showed me this wonder, and now I am entirely believing my own bullshit. You're a godsdamned artist. This soul has to go in this doll, Coda. It's too perfect."

"You get the money on successful ensoulment. As always."

"Tch!"

Bree carefully marked a diagram for ensoulment on the floor, enclosing herself and the stand, then, chanting lines in a guttural voice almost entirely unlike her usual, reached around behind the doll's neck to press the soul gem into a hidden receptacle there. The diagram flared into life, a curtain of green sparks drifting upwards from the shop floor and then vanishing in directions named only by mages.

"—y'glacht nissat ephed, be thou whole and one with yourself, itisc, drah, nyen."

A shiver passed through the doll.

Clearing her throat, the mage said, "It's done," and carefully scuffed the diagram with the toe of her shoe.

It was then that the door exploded, and a blazing silver radiance filled the workshop.

"What the fu—"

"JUSTICE."

Bree and Coda could barely make out the general shape of a skeleton, winged, within a halo of silver light.

It awoke to a very loud voice, a bright light, and a body that couldn't move.

"—CRIME THAT CANNOT BE UNDONE, YET FITTING PUNISHMENT HAS BEEN FOUND FOR BOTH."

Sleep paralysis again? Can I make something move anyway? It tried to flex, found immediate resistance everywhere.

"THE ARTISAN HAS SOILED HER HANDS WITH STOLEN SOULS, BUT THOSE THAT HAVE BEEN STOLEN WALK IN HER BODIES, AND THOSE MUST BE CARED FOR. THE ARTISAN IS BOUND FOR THE TIME BEING TO CREATE NO MORE BODIES BUT ONE, AND ONLY TO SERVICE HER CREATIONS TO THE BEST OF HER ABILITIES AND AT HER OWN EXPENSE. LET HER ATONEMENT BEGIN THUS."

Silver sparks flared from the left. Someone screamed.

"THE MAGE HAS STOLEN SOULS, AN EVEN GREATER TRANSGRESSION. LET HER EXPERIENCE WHAT IT IS LIKE TO BE SEVERED FROM MORTAL FLESH AND BOUND TO HER ACCOMPLICE'S WORK. HER FLESH SHALL BE HELD RANSOM, AND HER TASK FOR THE TIME BEING SHALL BE TO SAFEGUARD AND PROTECT HER MOST RECENT VICTIM, UNTIL AND UNLESS SAID VICTIM MAY RELEASE HER FROM SERVICE, SATISFIED. LET HER ATONEMENT BEGIN THUS."

More sparks. A ripping sound, a brief shock in the air as if a taut string had snapped.

Then a hand under its chin, a face that was no face, only shining bones, and a voice that reverberated inside it.

"THIS IS NOT A NIGHTMARE, UNWILLING TRAVELER. WE REGRET THAT YOU CANNOT GO HOME. THE SKEIN OF DESTINY IS TANGLED, BUT JUSTICE MAY YET BE DONE HERE. YOU WILL BE WATCHED. GOOD LUCK TO YOU."

Then the silver light was gone.

It still couldn't move.

Later, it heard the sound of bitter laughter. A woman with close-cropped hair wearing shop leathers held a shimmering violet gem in one hand, a scroll and a carved stick in the other. She waved the objects in front of it. "Look what's become of my business partner," she told it. "She'll need a body soon. Like yours, I think. Bree liked yours. You'll help me. You don't have a choice, by the way."

She busied herself with its restraints. When a critical knot was loosened, it suddenly collapsed to the ground. It should have hurt; it didn't. It stood up, taking a proffered hand from the woman in shop leathers.

"Hmm. We should get some clothes on you. Should be a uniform your size in that box over there. Mirror on the left."

It opened the box, held up frilly black and white pieces of cloth, some vaguely recognized.

A dress? But… I'm…

It looked down on unfamiliar curves rendered in ceramic and metal, and collapsed again.

A hand hauled it back to woozy verticality.

"You'll get used to that body soon. Just stand, I guess. I'll put it on you." Hands brushed its side. Fabric dropped over its head and into a snug fit. Ties were tied.

"Better. Mirror."

It walked, slowly but more steady with each step, to the mirror.

A doll looked back at it, wearing the tight-fitting dress and apron of a maid.

It spoke, and its own voice sounded strangely musical to it: "Who am I?"

"Do they not have names where you come from?"

"I don't remember mine."

"Hmm. I'll call you after your design, then. Your name, doll, will be Lyric."

"Lyric."

"Coda," the woman said, indicating herself with a thumb.

It curtsied, feeling that this was somehow the thing to do, and then asked, "Doll?"

"Yep. But like I said, you'll get used to it. Welcome to Coda's." She sighed. "You can start by sweeping up what's left of the door."

It would have time to wonder later why sweeping felt like the right thing to do. Why obeying felt like the right thing to do. How "JUSTICE MAY YET BE DONE HERE" had anything to do with chores. But for now, it had the broom. Now was fine. It could stay in now. So it did. □

#dollposting #microfiction #we who

[dira333]

Who's gonna break my heart - Daishou Suguru x Reader

Friends to Strangers to Lovers - Title inspired by my current dopamine song "Dangerously Anxious" by MUNN

Words: over 8k so pace yourself

- 18/17

You know something’s up when Suguru enters the gym with a girl. He’s already late, but the girl’s not wearing any gym clothes. So not a new manager.

She’s one year above you and you’ve seen her around. Yamanaka Mika or something. She’s cute and bile rises up your throat at that thought. No.

“Guys,” Suguru’s grin is genuine, playful, a little proud even, “I want you to meet someone. This is Mika, my girlfriend.”

Sō immediately stands guard beside you. He’s the libero and the second-closest friend you have on this team. Well, he might get bumped up as of today. 

��Mika, this is the team.” He introduces them by name and the first-years blush under his praise. The third-years are not impressed, hitting him back with sly remarks that have Suguru blush instead.

Finally, he ends with you.

“And this is my best friend from childhood. I told you about her,” he introduces you and you have to fight everything in you not to snarl at him. Instead, you offer Mika your hand to shake, boiling inside. 

She stays around to watch. You keep your distance. 

When the first break runs around and you start handing out water bottles she slinks up beside you, asking for Suguru’s. You’re more than glad you don’t have to give it to him, couldn’t stand the risk of touching him right now. 

You manage not to talk to him about anything other than volleyball until training ends.

He leaves quickly, aiming to walk Mika home. You stay behind.

“You okay?” Sō asks quietly as you gather your things.

“Mhm,” you nod, “Just peachy. Thanks for asking.”

“I don’t like her,” he promises and you snort. “You don’t have to. If he wants to get himself a girlfriend, that has nothing to do with me. She might be nice, you know. It’s not her fault he’s the way he is.”

Sō nods, but he doesn’t seem convinced. He asks if you want to walk home together but you decline. The quiet will do you good.

- 5/4

“Well, you stink,” Daishou declares with an air of finality. He’s small for a five year old, you’re almost the same height.

You don’t blink. He starts to grow anxious, his legs twiddling as if he has to pee.

“Why aren’t you crying?” He asks, clearly annoyed you don’t react like anyone else he’s met before.

“I was waiting if you’d come up with something better,” you say, “But I should have known you don’t have any good ideas.”

“Hey!” He yelps, “That’s not fair! That was a good insult!”

You snort and his lip starts to quiver.

“No way,” someone whispers behind you, “Is Daishou going to cry? What a whimp.”

“I’m not a whimp!” Daishou declares, eyes already reddening. “Take that back.”

You turn your best lazy stare at the person who had muttered that insult. In less than a second he backs away. You might not be a pretty little girl like your mother wanted, but you know how to keep the boys at bay.

“Come,” you take Daishou’s hand and pull him toward the far edge of the playground, “I’m gonna teach you some cool insults.”

- 18/17

“What do you want?” You ask instead of a greeting. Suguru snorts into the phone.

“Wow, what hellhole did you crawl out today?”

“It’s called a period, thank you very much.” That’s a lie. But he doesn’t like that topic, so it’s always safe.

“Whatever,” he grunts, “I just wanted to ask what you think about Mika.”

“I’m not into her if that’s what you’re asking.”

He gasps before laughing. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“How did that even happen?” You ask, hoping against hope that he doesn’t hear the despair lacing your voice. He needs to believe you don’t care. “Did you pay her to do it?”

“Excuse me?!” Suguru’s affronted. “I don’t have to pay girls- You know I could-” He sighs before starting anew. “She asked me out. Can you believe it? I never had a cute girl like me before.”

That stings. But, you try to comfort yourself, he doesn’t know you like him. So maybe you’re still a cute girl in his head. Just not one he’s interested in.

“Miracles happen every day,” you tell him, working around the clog in your throat, “But I need to get going, okay? I still have homework to do.”

“Oh, okay, sure. I’ll see you in the morning. We can walk to school.”

“Yeah, okay.” You hope he forgets. 

He doesn’t.

.

Suguru’s always been touchy. He was the kid who sat on his mother's lap until she pushed him off and though he made you swear on your life that it didn’t happen, he used to be the one grabbing your hand on the way home from kindergarten.

And it used to be your thing. 

How he pulls on your arm when he’s excited or slings his arm around your shoulders, shaking you. How he presses his face against yours, eye against eye, to make sure you really got his joke. 

But you can’t help but feel sick now, at the thought of it. Because it doesn’t mean what you thought it meant. And he’s probably going to do it with Mika now.

“Hey,” he pulls on your backpack as a greeting, dragging ice-cold fingertips along your neck. You shiver and he shows a wicked grin. “Still cranky?” 

“Was I ever?” You snap back and he cocks his head, tongue slipping out as he musters you. It’s adorable and you hate yourself for thinking so.

“You wanna get chocolate milkshakes after school?”

“I’m fine,” you point out. “And you’re going to walk Mika home, right?”

“Are you jealous?” He asks and your heart stops for a painful moment until he laughs. “Come on, we’ve been best friends forever. I’m sure she’d like some Milkshakes too.”

And it’s like that, for days, and weeks on end.

Everything you used to do together is now something you have to share with Mika.

Until she breaks up with him.

- 9/8

“Can we play family?” You ask, a bit more confident in the coziness of your own bedroom. Your parents make more money than Suguru’s, you can tell. It’s no surprise he likes hanging out at your place more. You prefer it the other way, like the warmth of their kitchen and the noise, always someone around to talk. You like his older sister who teases him relentlessly and his mother who always calls you cute.

But you’ve got better toys so you’re hanging out at your place. And since it’s your place, you call the shots.

“Again?” He asks, but already picks up the Squishmallow you usually use as a kid. You own two and the other one’s sitting next to your bedroom door, playing dog.

“Today,” you declare your newest idea proudly, “I’m going to make a lot of money. I work in finance, like my dad.”

Suguru nods, gently nursing the Squishmallow kid in his arms. “Should I stay home with the kid then?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “You could make some dinner for when I come home. Do you want to have a Hobby, like Mom?” 

“Oh yeah,” he grins, “I’m going to be a famous volleyball player on the side. They only have to train and win games, so I have more then enough time to care for our kid and the dog. Do we have a daughter or a son?”

“I don’t know. What do you want?”

“I want a daughter,” he lifts her up, squinting as if he can see a real kid in the soft pink plush. “And she looks like you.”

- 18/17

It’s Sō who tells you. He happened to walk past them on the way to training, couldn’t help but overhear. 

“You’re such a bore, all you ever do is focus on club activities,” Sō repeats before you can stop him.

He opens his mouth to ask, but the gym doors open. Suguru looks positively mad.

“What are you doing?” He asks Sō, voice sharp. “This is supposed to be training. Start running!” He turns to you but you don’t even let him open his mouth.

“Suguru,” your voice is cold, clear and cuts through him like always. “Can I talk to you outside for a second?” 

He huffs. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll have to ask Coach to tell you to talk to me. You want that?”

“No,” he snarls, turning back to where he came from. “Hurry up, I want to train.”

“Warn the others,” you whisper in Sō’s direction and follow Suguru outside.

There’s a group of trees not far from the Gym that’s pretty much secluded. 

Suguru swings as if to punch one of the trees but you’re faster, grabbing his elbow and pulling back.

“We still need your hands,” you huff, “Keep it together.”

“I don’t want-”

“I know,” you pull him in, hug him as tight as he allows. “I know.”

You don’t know how long you’re standing like this, Suguru trembling like a leaf. He’s always been a crybaby, even if he’s a little ashamed to admit it.

“Want me to egg her house?” You ask, wishing that just once he’d hug you back. 

“No, that’s stupid.”

“I could put eggs into her shoes,” you point out. “Like I did with that girl that bullied you in Junior High.”

He snorts wetly. “That was amazing, but no, I don’t… I just wanted her to like me.” His face is pressed against your shoulder now and you can feel his mouth move against the fabric of your shirt when he talks. 

“Maybe I should quit Volleyball.”

“Because some girl told you it was boring? Suguru, you’re better than that.”

“Mika’s not just some girl.”

You swallow thickly, unable to snap back for the first time since you can remember. 

If only he’d say such things about you too.

“Well,” You manage after a while, “You’ll just have to win Nationals then. Show her what you’re made of.”

“Yeah,” he nods and pulls back, your sign to let go. “You’re right.”

He wipes his eyes and tries a shaky smile.

“Let’s beat Nekoma to a pulp.”

You roll your eyes. “You and that team. But if it makes you happy, we will.”

- 13/12

“Have you kissed somebody yet?” Suguru asks.

It’s a nice day out and you’re using your huge garden for Volleyball practice.

You don’t like playing it that much, but since Suguru doesn’t have that many male friends to play with, you don’t mind helping him out.

“No, you?”

“No.”

You wait, knowing he’ll eventually explain himself.

“Haizaki said it’s lame if you haven’t kissed anyone yet,” Suguru explains and leaps into the air to spike a ball.

You receive it, albeit a bit clumsily, and the ball tapers off into the shrubbery to your left.

“I told him that I kissed you,” he says instead of moving, and since you don’t really like Volleyball all that much you stay where you are. You have to move enough as it is already.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Suguru’s glaring at the shrubbery now. “Haizaki didn’t believe me at first. I showed him that picture from the festival last year. Now he thinks you’re too cute to be kissing me.”

You snort and drop to the floor, too lazy to keep standing. “Did you tell him how I bit your chin when you tried to put your arm around my shoulder for that picture.”

“No,” now he’s the one snorting. “But I should have.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you wanna kiss?”

You knew that question would come. Still, you don’t really have an answer to it. 

You put your head on your knees and pear up at him, blinking through your eyelashes until he blurs into a shapeless blob.

You don’t really care about kissing. Or boys. There’s no one in your life that’s as close to you as Suguru is. You’re friendly with your classmates, but most of what they want to talk about is boring.

Maybe you don’t want to kiss. Or think about it. But Suguru wants it. So you can at least try, right? 

“Fine,” you stretch out your hands, ask him to pull you up. As soon as you’re standing you press your lips to his.

It’s awkward, and not at all nice. His mouth is slightly open, a little wet with saliva or maybe sweat and his nose bumps almost painfully into yours.

Suguru squeaks as you move away, grabbing your hands to pull you back in. This time your teeth knock against each other and it hurts even more.

“Maybe,” you say, your face pressed against his shoulder when he’s still not letting you go, “Haizaki also never kissed a girl. Maybe it’s totally overrated and disgusting but he just thought you’d believe him.”

“You think?” Suguru asks, clearly downfallen by this failure. He always just wants to be cool.

“Yeah, you just need to be really confident when you tell him that you’re not interested in that. You know? Like, tell the class that Haizaki’s so bad in school because all he thinks about are girls. If you sound like you mean it, everyone will gang up on Haizaki. I do that too and it works all the time.”

His arms, clammy with sweat, loosen their hold on you. His adams apple is bobbing up and down as he steps back.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, voice still a little unsure, “Can we… can we play some more volleyball?”

“If we must,” you groan and his smile flickers back to life, this mischievous teasing thing you’ve grown fond of. 

He pinches your side and moves toward the shrubbery.

“Fifty receives or you don’t get any ice-cream.”

“This is my house, you know!”

- 18/17

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

 Sō’s eyebrows shoot up but you remain calm.

“Of course,” you say, following Mika out of your classroom and down the hallway into an empty classroom. You think this one’s reserved for Music Club.

“I wanted to ask,” she looks nervously to the side before continuing, “if you and Suguru… Are you… dating?”

You allow Silence to settle before you answer. The question hurts you just as much as it might hurt her to ask and if you can make her suffer a little longer, you will.

“No.”

“Oh,” she looks like she expected a different answer, as if she’s not sure where to go from here.

“Is there anything else?”

“Yes!” She surges forward, boxing you in. “I… I want to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For breaking up.”

“You’re talking to the wrong person then.”

She huffs, crossing her arms now. “Could you be any less helpful?”

“What do you want me to do?” You snap, losing the small of patience you had.

She slinks back, shrinking into herself. “I just… I kinda think it was a stupid decision. But I don’t know. Do you think Suguru liked me? Like, really liked me? You’re his best friend.”

“I don’t know,” you offer helpfully, “I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what really liking someone means.”

And you’re being honest this time, even if she might not believe you. You only know that Suguru doesn’t really like you like that. 

“Kaya… my friend… she said that maybe you’re into him and that’s why we broke up.”

You straighten, hands balled to fists.

“You broke up with him,” you hiss, “Don’t you dare pin this on him.”

“I know!” Mika howls, clearly exasperated now. “I know! I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. That’s why I’m asking you for advice!”

You stiffen, turn toward the window. You can think better when you’re not looking at her, when you can pretend she’s not looking at you.

If someone asks you about this, if someone ever dares to question it, you will deny it with everything you’ve got, but you can’t… you just can’t-

“Just come to our next game,” you tell her, voice tired. “We’re playing against Nekoma for the Qualifiers. He hates that team. You can decide there how you want to go on.” You turn and move for the door. But something just needs to be said, even if you don’t want to speak it into existence.

“And he’s not into me. Suguru, I mean. We’re friends. I just don’t have that many and I’m not used to sharing, that’s all.”

You leave her standing there, don’t turn back to look.

Instead, you go straight to the school nurse, wait until she calls your mum to come and pick you up. 

You feel sick to your stomach and even though the Congee she cooks does little to soothe that kind of hurt, you don’t argue against it.

.

Mika doesn’t ask to speak to you again.

But she’s at your match against Nekoma, you can spot her in the crowd. When she approaches the team after your loss you’re glad that the team moves away in unison.

You don’t want to be there when it happens.

“Maybe you should date someone too,” Sō offers. He’s remarkably calm about their loss. “Kuguri and you are quite similar. You could get along.”

“What?” Kuguri turns to look at you, “I heard my name.”

“You have ears,” you praise him, “Good job.”

He scowls and turns away again. 

You close your eyes, lean your back against the wall. 

“I think I’m going to focus on school work,” you admit, “Leave the Club.”

Takachiho gasps. “Leave the Club? You?”

“What?” You scowl, “Like you care. You’re leaving this year anyway.”

“Yeah, but the Club needs you!” Seguro sidles up to you, “You’re our Manager.”

“Like you can’t fill your water bottles without me,” you snarl. 

“I bet,” Numai mutters darkly, rubbing his chin, “If you’d get your ass on it, you could turn this team around.”

“Is that a dare?” You ask, stepping up to him. “Do you really think you can dare me to do better?”

“Absolutely! I bet you could get rid of these cheap tactics and get us to Nationals without Suguru interfering.”

Hiroo snorts. “You do know, Numai, that our dear Manager is worse than our Captain when it comes to trashtalking, right?”

Your smile grows as Numai’s flickers and fades.

“But,” he starts just as someone clears his throat behind you. 

“Something going on?” Suguru asks.

Looking at him feels like a punch to the throat. You can tell that he’s happy without him having to say it. Mika’s nowhere to be seen but it still feels as if she’s wrapped around him. 

The team lunges forward.

If anyone notices that you’re not taking part in their playful attack, they don’t address it. 

You sneak away undisturbed.

.

Seguro’s named Captain a few days later. 

Mika must have talked to Suguru because he’s not dragging you with them anymore. And while you had thought that there could be nothing worse than being the third wheel on one of their dates, being forgotten is so so so much worse.

School is boring you. Training is torture. You need something to occupy your mind.

- 18/17

“All alone?” Someone settles heavily on the chair next to you.

You don’t have to look up. You’d know that honeysmoothed voice anywhere.

“Not interested, roosterhead.”

Kuroo chuckles softly. “Don’t bite, Snakelet. I just want to make some friendly conversation.”

“Sure, sure. So you’re not here to scope out the competition?” You don’t take your eyes off the game. 

Below your seats the game is reaching it’s Finale. 

“Which one do you want?” Kuroo asks, mouth so close to your ear his breathe washes over your face. You don’t flinch.

“If I had to guess you want the Captain. He’s got an amazing defense. And with your stupid First-Year you’ll need some good defense.”

“Now now, don’t insult Lev like that.” Kuroo stretches, yawns and rests his arm on your shoulder. “He’s even dumber than you make him out to be.”

You can’t help but laugh at that comment. At least he’s self-aware.

“Go on,” you nudge your elbow into his side, “Tell me who I’m picking.”

“You want both Outside Hitters. They are both tall, broad shouldered and have a lot of energy and drive, so you think that would balance out your lethargic teammates. But that’s a risky move. One of them moves like he’s chugged ten cans of Monster before the game and the other feels like this game is the beginning of his murder-spree.”

“I need someone with Stamina,” you agree, “If I can get both of them, I will. If I can get only one of them, I’ll take Mr. Murderspree.”

“Good.” Kuroo grins. “I don’t want our games to get boring.”

You roll your eyes. “They’re not our games, Roosterhead. You’re graduating.”

“Ah,” he pinches your chin. “But I’m still watching, you know. From the shadows.”

You snort. “Sure. If that gives you closure.” You get up. “You can stay here if you want, I need to get going. First one to get a student to sign on your team wins.”

“Loser pays the drinks,” he calls after you.

.

You’re not sure how it happened or when. You don’t even know what to call this. 

Suguru is your best friend, so Kuroo can’t be it. Kuroo is Suguru’s enemy and you’re pretty sure you don’t feel the same way about him, so he can’t be that either.

You’d call him an annoying cousin you’re not related to if these conversations wouldn’t sound so much like flirting nowadays. 

In some weird way you think he understands you, or at least how your brain works. He’s pointed out, often enough to remember, that you remind him of Kenma. 

And you’d argue against it, but he’s never once insulted Suguru in front of you. Talking shit about Kenma feels like disrespecting that truce. Even if you feel a lot smarter than a guy who’s cosplaying a bowl of pudding.

.

“Congratulations,” Kuroo sets your coffee down in front of you before taking a seat, “Both Outside Hitters and the Setter, I’m impressed.”

“He’s more of a glorified Pinch Server, but thank you.” You drag your spoon through the foam in your cup, destroying the artwork the barista created. You’re not in the mood for little foam hearts today. “How’s your new Captain doing?”

“Terrible, but that’s to be expected.”

“Same.” You let your eyes wander through the café only to get caught on something outside. You know that jacket, that haircut, that smi-

“Everything okay?” Kuroo peers down at you. 

“Dropped my earring,” you claim, patting the floor. Outside Suguru kisses Mika goodbye and turns with one last wave of his arm before jogging of.

You get back into your seat, ignore the amused twinkle in Kuroo’s eyes and dare to think that you’ve got out of this alive - until someone appears next to you.

“Oh, hi!” Mika blinks with a smile, “Suguru just left, what a surprise! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Likewise,” you press out. 

“Hi, I’m Kuroo,” Kuroo offers her his hand, “You’re Daishou’s girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” her smile brightens, “I’m sorry, I don’t know you, are you from Nohebi?”

“No,” he shakes his head, but doesn’t disclose his own school. You don’t flatter yourself with thinking it’s because of your glaring. “Just visiting a friend.”

“Oh,” Mika rests a hand on her chest, “Sorry, I didn’t know- of course, I’ll leave you to it.” She all but flutters away. You want to leave.

Kuroo, however, leans over the table, grinning like the literal Chesire Cat.

“She thinks we’re dating.”

“I don’t care what she thinks,” you snarl.

“Oh?” His eyebrows lift to where you can’t see them. “Ohoh?”

“Not like that,” you groan, “Get your head out of the gutter.”

“What? I could date you,” he twirls his spoon between his fingers, “Don’t all girls want an older boyfriend?”

“I think it’s more about wanting a smarter boyfriend,” you point out, “So I doubt we’d fit that scheme.”

“You wound me,” he huffs playfully, “But if you ever want to make someone jealous you can call me up anytime.”

“Thanks, I already hate that idea.”

- 18/17

It’s a shame you cannot skip graduation. 

It’s not even your own but you know Suguru would never let you live it down. 

So you force yourself to smile in every picture, pretending you don’t see the second button of his blazer missing. 

Ever since Kindergarten he’s been one year above you. Ever since Kindergarten, you went out for ice cream afterwards, you paying for his on his graduation and him paying for yours the next year.

This year he asks if he can bring Mika along. You pay for him, he pays for her and when it’s time for you to pick your own ice cream all you want to do is go home and sleep.

But you can’t, so you pick the first flavor you see, not wanting to ruin the taste of your favorite ice cream with this awful memory.

“This is a cute spot,” Mika announces when you’ve found a spot outside under an oak tree, “We should come here for a date. What do you think?” She addresses you all of a sudden, “We could do a double date.”

Suguru chokes on his ice cream.

“Double date?” He asks. “Is there something I don’t know?”

Mika’s eyes widen. “Oh, was it a secret?”

“No,” you grind through your teeth, “It’s not a secret because I don’t have a boyfriend. Or date anyone. I just met someone I know while I was scouting new players.”

“Who?” He asks, brows furrowed. 

“He’s got dark hair,” Mika explains, “Kinda messy like Kuguri-”

“Kuroo?” Suguru bristles, eyes turning wide. “You went out with Kuroo?”

Something turns to ice inside you.

“Yes,” you say, “I went out with him. Who cares?”

“He’s-”

“The Ex-Captain of a team that didn’t win Nationals. Wow. How outstanding.”

“My arch-enemy!” Suguru thunders, “And you know that.”

“Please,” you huff, “He barely knows you exist.”

“Take that back!”

“No.” 

“I didn’t think-” Mika starts but you shut her up with a glare. 

“I don’t butt into your relationship,” you clarify, “So you don’t get to butt into mine.” 

“You’re dating-?” Suguru gasps for air, “Kuroo?”

“Does it matter? No. I was here to celebrate your graduation not to discuss my lovelife.”

“If you’re dating Kuroo we can no longer be friends,” Suguru bites out and you nod, get up and throw your ice cream in the trash.

“Fine. If that’s how you want it, I’ll accept. Goodbye.”

You march away, don’t look back. You don’t want Suguru to see that your eyes start to water as the ice inside you slowly melts.

.

You: If your house gets egged this week, Suguru thinks we’re dating.

Roosterhead: Oh? Buy me Dinner first.

You: I’m not dating you.

Roosterhead: I’m heartbroken. You good though? 

You: I will be after we demolish Nekoma.

Roosterhead: Looking forward to you trying.

- 19/18

Seguro and Yamamoto are shaking hands but all you care about are the glowing eyes of their setter who rest on you, unblinking.

You���ve lost this time, but you’re not giving up. It’s only a Training Match after all and as soon as you’ve figured out how to balance out your team, you’ll be fine.

Still, it sucks that you’ve lost to Kenma. Of all people.

“Hey,” Sō nudges you with his elbow, nodding toward the door. “We’ve got a visitor.”

He didn’t need to tell you. You spotted Suguru half an hour ago but decided to ignore him.

The last two months have been filled with somewhat strained communication, mostly held up by Mika who’s trying her best to mend a friendship you no longer believe in.

He’s chosen Mika over you. You’ll be able to live with that, someday. 

“Hey,” someone else speaks up from your other side. You turn to Kenma, who’s looking the other way.

“Yeah?”

“Kuroo mentioned something… about you…”

“So?”

He huffs. “I think I have an idea you’d be interested in.”

You’ll never admit that you only agree to buy into Bouncing Ball Corp because Suguru is watching you, but in all honesty, you’d probably agree to selling fridges in the arctic if it buys you a few more minutes away from him.

It doesn’t matter in the end. He stays until everyone else has left, hands buried in his pockets, nodding at the players that know him, rolling his eyes at those who don’t.

“What’s going on?” You ask when you’ve run out of reasons to avoid him, the gym empty besides the two of you.

“Can’t I come see my best friend?”

“I don’t know, are they in the room with us?”

He huffs. 

“I mean you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

You turn away, take a few steps just to put space where there used to be none.

Suguru calls out your name. There’s something in his voice, a softer, more vulnerable tone, that makes you turn around. His shoulders are down and he’s staring at the ground and you know, just by looking at him, that he lost. 

You don’t know if it’s a game or a thing, a person or an idea, but there’s something to it, the fact that he comes to you for comfort, that soothes some of the hurt.

“What did you do now, you fool?” You ask and maybe there’s something in your voice too, because he takes a few steps and pulls you in, rests his head against your shoulder where no one can see if he cries or not.

“Coach kicked me off the starting Line-Up,” he admits, “I’m just a pinch server.”

“So?” You ask, “You were a Pinch Server when you started at Nohebi. Those things take time.”

“Yeah,” he croaks, “But I also failed my first exam.”

“Mhm,” you hum, “Math?”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

He huffs. “Who says-”

“What else, Suguru?”

“I can’t get a job. Like, I’ve tried but the only shops that might take me are the fast food joints around College and the hours there are terrible. And I need to train.”

You sigh. He hasn’t changed at all.

“Have you talked to Mika about it?” You ask and you know your voice sounds a little condescending right now, but he deserves it, right? 

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want her to know,” he huffs, tensing as you try to push him away. “Please?”

“I’m not your manager any longer,” you point out. “You’re old enough to get yourself out of the mess you got yourself into. I’m not here to-”

“Please,” he repeats, but there’s a different tone to it now, “This is not why I came, okay? I just… you always know- Ugh, you just understand me, okay? I need to talk to someone who understands. Please?”

“Fine,” you let your bag slip from your shoulder, “You carry my bag and I’ll listen.”

And it’s a tale as old as time, you think, as you walk next to him, almost knocking your hip into his from. 

Suguru’s not stupid. He just gets too much in his head about how things should be like until he can no longer see the big picture. And as much as he enjoys dishing out, he cannot take a hit for the life of him.

“So?” You ask when you reach the cross roads that separate your houses, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I- I wanted to say… If you want to date Kuroo, that’s fine.”

You balk. “What?”

“Yeah,” he grimaces, “I mean, I don’t like him, but if you think he’s decent enough…”

“I’m not dating him.”

“Kenma then?”

“Just shut up, okay?” You snarl. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not- I don’t care- You know, let’s just say you won’t mind and forget about this, okay?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I want to talk about this. You’re my best friend. I’m sorry I neglected you. You’re doing a good job with the team, better than I did when I was Captain last year. And Mika… she’s sorry too. This is my idea, coming here and talking to you, but I know she feels bad too. She’s just… I think she got a little excited at the idea of us going on double dates. But it wasn’t right putting it out like that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you repeat, too stubborn to give in, “But I appreciate it. What are you going to do now?”

“Oh, study for math, keep looking for jobs,” he huffs, dragging his hands through his hair. 

“I meant today,” you snort and he blushes awkwardly. 

“Then say it like that, idiot. You wanna play some volleyball? I have the time.”

“No,” you shake your head, “But I could use some math practice.”

- 19/18

It’s weird, still. 

Suguru makes an effort to come over once a week. It helps that you can give him pointers in his math studies, but it’s not the way it was before.

He’s too touchy for a guy with a girlfriend. And though you’ve got your heart on a tight leash you can tell it’s much too easy to get lost in this until something reminds you of the truth.

So you do what everyone would do in your situation.

You ask Kuguri out. 

It goes about as well as one would expect. 

Sure, you could ask Kuroo. You’re pretty sure he’d do it, but you don’t want to ruin a perfectly fine friendship - if you could call it that.

Soon matches and exams turn up back to back and all you see of Suguru are the short messages he sends whenever he remembers.

He doesn’t forget your graduation, but ice cream just doesn’t taste the same way it used to.

You wish you could have stopped this ritual when it was still fun.

- 20/19

If someone would ask you for the name of your best friend, you’re no longer sure what you’d answer.

There’s Suguru, who you rarely talk to, yet know better than yourself most days.

There’s Sō, who’s taking the same Classes as you, who you’ve shared quite a few wins and failures with since attending Nohebi. 

And then there’s Kuroo, who’s an absolute pain in the ass, but at least he’s reliable.

“I want to get paid for this,” you tell him when you hand over the CD. “I spent a while analyzing all that footage.”

“Ah, you love doing it,” Kuroo teases, moving to ruffle your hair, “Besides you always bet on Bokuto. I’m just helping you get your money through that.”

“I do not,” you grind through your teeth. You hate him sometimes.

“Do to,” he jokes, turning when something catches your attention. “The Barista has the hots for you.”

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

“Absolutely.” Kuroo gestures with his hands before grinning. “See? He wants your number.”

“What?” You squeak, turning to look for yourself. The guy isn’t bad-looking at all. Maybe a bit less athletic than you’re used to. And he’s waving at you, gesturing in a way that can really only mean one thing.

“Well, I’m not giving it to him.”

“Why not?” Kuroo leans back, eyes twinkling. “Would you rather go out with me? Oh, Snakelet, I’m honored.”

“Fine,” you bite out, “I’ll get his.”

Kuroo’s still grinning when you come back, leaning over the table to look at your phone.

“Ah, so that’s his name. Now, I’m waiting. Text him.”

“Why?”

“Because I won’t believe you otherwise.”

“You’re sick in the head.”

“Mhm, you too. Now chop chop, we don’t have all day.”

If you say that your first relationship only exists because of Kuroo, you mean it.

.

Moriwaka isn’t all that bad. He might just be exactly what you need.

He studies Psychology, works part-time as a Barista, and collects Star Trek memorabilia, which means you have literally nothing in common and so much more to talk about.

And it’s nice, how he never once asks about Suguru - they’ve only met briefly - or Volleyball - he doesn’t like Sports - or your parents - he’s not into Finance.

He doesn’t push you either.

You don’t like being touched? That’s fine with him, he’s happy sidling up to you on the way to the Cinema - he bought two tickets for the newest Star Trek movie. 

All in all, it feels a little more like having a new best friend, just that Moriwaka likes to tell you how good you’re looking every single day.

- 20/19

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” you say, getting up from the Couch. 

“I’m pausing the movie,” Moriwaka announces, “This is the best part.”

You’d probably disagree with him if you cared enough, but it’s fine. Star Trek is important to him and he never once complains when you make him rewatch a Volleyball Game.

The doorbell rings just as you close the door behind you.

“That’s probably the Pizza,” he announces. You yawn.

The window doesn’t close properly but you don’t care, no one can see you pee anyway.

“What are you doing here?” Moriwaka’s voice floats up.

“I’m looking for someone.” You freeze, the voice too familiar. What’s Suguru doing here?

He says your name.

“Ah, she’s not here.” You can hear Moriwaka, your heart thumping awkwardly in your chest. Why is Suguru looking for you if he could just call you?

“No, no, I’m sure she’s here.”

“So what? She doesn’t want to see you.”

You fumble the door lock trying to get out. What’s Moriwaka doing?

It doesn’t take long to get out of the apartment and down the stairs, but it feels like half an eternity.

The door is open and you can hear Moriwaka before you can see him.

“I’ve seen your messages,” he announces, voice weirdly cold, “You only call to unload your baggage on her. You’re a pathetic, wet rag of a man.”

“And you’re any better?” Suguru snaps back, “You have no idea what’s between me and-”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Moriwaka announces just as you slide out the door behind him.

Suguru’s face turns perfectly blank at your sight, but Moriwaka isn’t lucky enough to get the hint.

“I’m not allowing you to talk to her.”

“I don’t think that’s your decision,” you tell him coolly. 

He turns, surprise evident on his face. But no guilt. 

“Listen, I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

He scoffs. “What? So you’re just going to let him drag you down again? He probably just lost another game. Or his girlfriend ran off or whatever.”

Suguru flinches. The breakup happened a few months ago, but he’s always been bad at taking hits. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell Moriwaka snidely, “He’s my best friend. You don’t have any say in that.”

“You’re just in love with him,” he spits out, “Right? That’s why you’re pushing me away all the time. You don’t really want to date me, you’re just passing time with me hoping he’ll suddenly turn around and be interested in you.”

Suguru steps forward, fists balled but you’re a little faster, always more inclined to use your tongue instead of your fists.

“Go,” you tell him, your calm facade your biggest weapon, “Your movie’s waiting. I’m sure Captain Whatever has some inspirational quotes for you to flirt with next time.”

Moriwaka huffs, but he’s not dumb enough to take the bait. Or maybe he doesn’t care enough either.

“Go, be unhappy if that’s what you want.” He slams the door shut behind him.

-

The night is warm, the air around you humid and heavy.

Suguru’s looking up at a nearby street lamp, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“You were looking for me?” You ask, not ready to deal with the can of worms Moriwaka just opened.

“Yeah, I…” He clears his throat. “I got… I got a deal. For the Yotsuya Motor Spirits. I know it’s only Division 2 but they’ll let me finish College while I play.”

“Oh, Congratulations,” you step forward, not really sure what you want to do, just knowing that you want to be closer.

“Thanks,” he clears his throat again, “I was… I was talking to my parents about it and when they hung up all I could think about was that I wanted to tell you. We haven’t… we haven’t talked in a while, right?”

“Yeah.” You want to ask him who’s fault that is, but really, isn’t it your fault too? After all you were the one who fell in love in the first place.

“How’d you know I was here?” You ask when he’s fighting for words, tongue slipping out between his lips as he thinks. It’s a habit he’s had since you’ve known him and altough you’ve tried to hate it, it just endears him even more to you.

“Ah,” He drags a hand through the hair at the back of his head, “I was at your place but you weren’t there. And I figured you might be out with friends, but Sō said you’re out with your boyf- some guy but he doesn’t know where that is.”

“So?” You did not miss the way he stumbled over the term boyfriend. Your heart’s beating too fast to be healthy, but there’s a smug grin on Suguru’s face now, a look that tells you this story is going into a different direction now.

“You’ve been posting pictures of your favorite drink lately and there’s only one shop in Tokyo who makes it exactly the way you like it, so I thought I’d try over here. Remembered the dude’s name too, can you believe it?”

You laugh. He’s unbelievable, so proud of himself and his most basic deduction skills.

“You did great,” you tell him, “You wanna talk a walk? I need a bathroom and I’m not going back up there.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” he ushers you along, “There’s a 7-Eleven down the street.”

-

And it feels like yesterday, hips almost knocking into each other, walking down the street.

It feels like you’re six years old again and Suguru’s walking you home from school, his hand clutching yours because even though he’s older, he’s a bit more scared of the world.

It feels like you’re thirteen, only beginning to understand that some boys are gross and some boys are cute and why your heart flutters softly when Suguru’s tongue peaks out whenever he’s lost in thought. 

It feels like you’re seventeen, heart heavy yet ready to leap, calculating all the ways a confession could go wrong - and the one way it could go right - only to miss your chance.

“He’s right, you know,” Suguru points out in the too bright lights of the store when you come back from the bathroom. 

He’s staring at the cut up fruits in the fridge and maybe he’s thinking what to get for a late night smoothie, but maybe he’s thinking the same thing you’re thinking about.

How all 7-Eleven’s are kinda the same and if they are, is this a place out of time? A place you can stay in without getting older, without the consequence of change?

“I really am a pathetic,wet rag of a man.”

“Hmm,” you make, stepping so close to him your shoulder brushes his. If you’d be a little braver, you’d take his hand. 

If you could have a chance to get stuck in time, you’d take it if it meant being with him, hands not quite touching, bare faces reflected in the clear doors of an oversized fridge.

“I swear I’m not doing this because I’m lonely,” there’s a wetness to his voice that your ears are used to, grown fond of, even. The back of his pointer finger touches the back of your hand and his skin is warm and a shiver races down your back.

“And I should hate myself for breaking up what you had with that guy, but-”

You want to turn, look directly at him instead of his reflection in the glass, but you’re frozen in place, heart thundering so loud he must be able to hear it. 

“I’ve had a crush on you since… since way before I asked to practice kissing. You’re the coolest person I’ve ever known, and I… I’m so tired of pretending that someone else can compare. I’m sorry.” He whispers the last words, hiccups softly when your hand grabs his, squeezes as tight as you can.

You’re going to cry any second, you know, but you don’t want to, even if it’s him you’re with. 

You don’t want any tears to blurr your sight when you can look at him, see him, face flushed and eyes watery, all 179,5cm of pathetic, wet rag of a man.

“Do you want to play family?” You ask, voice a little rough, eyes a little watery too. “We can even get a dog.”

He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes.

But when he leans in and kisses you, nose softly bumping yours and chuckles ringing through the air, you have to disagree with your younger self.

Kissing isn’t overrated at all. If anything, it’s probably underrated.

- 21/20

“Oh no, we have to play against you guys?” Bokuto’s voice’s too loud to ignore even in the bustle of a packed stadion.

Suguru bristles next to you but relaxes a little when your elbow digs into his side.

“Like they’re going to give you any problems,” Kuroo’s voice is smooth and sticky, clinging to your ears like caramel to the teeth. “Right?”

“Kuroo,” Suguru drawls, “You’re here too?”

“Well of course,” his grin reminds you of the famed Chesire Cat and your arm slings around Suguru’s waist, pulling him in. 

He stumbles a bit, turning to look at you. Surprise, joy and then deep adoration wash over his face in a way you’ll never grow tired off. Suguru’s hand slides into the back pocket of your jeans and you know, would there be less people around, he’d be kissing you too.

“Aww, cute,” Kuroo sings, “You didn’t hear anything I just said.”

“Should we?” You ask, “If I want to hear an asshole talk I can just fart.”

Suguru snickers even as Bokuto howls in the background, clearly excited to have a new insult to try on someone else.

But Kuroo wouldn’t be Kuroo if you could best him with one lame insult.

“Funny,” he smiles, “You’re managing today too?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Just here for Suguru.”

“And we’re going to win,” Suguru declares, “MSBY has no chance against the Yotsuya Motor Spirits.”

He says it with conviction, but you know the chances of him winning are low. MSBY have been rising to the top ever since they drafted Miya Atsumu right out of highschool. Now they’ve got Bokuto too. If they’d gotten Sakusa Kiyoomi too like they’d been planning for months, you’d bought the consolation cake already but at least he’s insistent on finishing College before he starts playing professionally. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

You’re not with Suguru because he’s got the best chance at winning the game and he knows it. And no matter the outcome of this game, there’s already a small velvet box at home that he thinks you don’t know about.

Like he could keep any secrets from you.

- 27/26

“That’s all,” you cut off your assistant’s questioning, “Everything else has to wait until tomorrow.”

“I understand. Have a good evening.”

“You too.” You cut the call and park the car, thinking for the umpteenth time that you need to start looking into the possibility of hiring a driver. Some of these calls get too intense to be held at the wheel of a vehicle.

There’s a Volleyball on the front lawn and a chewed-up dog toy. You drag your keycard through the scanner and stifle a yawn as the door opens.

“I’m home,” you call out over the pitter-patter of feet.

There’s Princess, your husky-mix and Kuroo, the little black Frenchie that his namesake gifted you at your wedding. 

“Kitchen!” You hear a voice over the Princess howling. She’s always so excited to have you back home.

“Hey,” you can’t help smiling as you step into the kitchen, both dogs hot on your heels. Suguru’s standing at the stove, Hime tied to his front. Only a tuft of her dark hair is peaking out and you lean in to kiss him first and then the top of her head. 

“How was it?” He asks, “Tired?”

“Extremely so, but everything’s going well. Even Dad is impressed. How was your day?”

“Mh, no, you’ve got to tell first,” he insists, pulling you into his side, “Because I wanna hear your voice a bit more before I tell you about the absolutely disgusting diaper change I had to go through today.”

You laugh. “Okay, so you remember Mamushi, our Client?”

“Mamushi with the thick eyebrows or Mamushi who slurps every beverage?”

“Slurper Mamushi.”

“Okay, I’m following.”

“So, this morning I got an email from him where he claims that we’re charging him too much. He gave us two options: Reduce the cost or dismiss the contract altogether.”

“Oh, that’s spicy. What did you do?”

“Well, remember how I had to cut our lunch call short? I met up with him for coffee right after and got down to business and you won’t believe it: he settled on a different contract that actually costs him more but he’s happy with it. Apparently he doesn’t like how it’s done nowadays and the old times were far better.”

“Amazing,” Suguru drops a kiss on your temple, “I would love to see the face of this man when he realizes how stupid he is. You’re a genius.”

You giggle.

“How was your day, then? Apart from the diaper catastrophe?”

“Well, I regret to inform you that Hime already has an admirer. Koji’s head over heels for her. I had to threaten him with bodily harm to get her back.”

“Oh, is that your libero?” You think, “The one with the Iro?”

“Yep, he died it pink last week.”

“Well, pink suggests he’s sensible. If Hime likes him too-”

“Don’t say that!” Suguru’s hands come down to cover Hime’s ears, “My princess isn’t going to date anyone until she’s at least thirty.”

“Mhm,” you lift your eyebrows, “And how are you going to explain to her that we had her way before we turned thirty?”

A blush works its way up his cheeks and you lean forward to sink your teeth into the flushed skin only to press your lips onto it right after.

“Love you,” you tell him, voice a bit raspy with emotion.

Sometimes, in moments like this, you can barely believe that this is how your life played out.

tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @daisy-room @missalienqueen @marti-mp4 @itsmippe @jus-jazzy @wavesofchaos @moonlit-mizukage

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #daishou suguru #daishou x reader #daishou fluff #daishou #nohebi #nohebi team

[sleeplesssmoll]

what even is gnosis and pneuma? those game terms got me so lost 😭💀. id be reviewing the convo logs but nothing comes to concrete understanding hsjsksk

Arcanists are race that contains a unique cell colony allowing them to perform arcane skills (magic, divination, alchemy, etc.). They do not follow reasoning like mankind and instead practice Gnosis. There are two defining features of Gnosis:

It can't be verified by an independent 3rd party.

It’s impossible to comprehend through reasoning.

Gnosis seems like a faith based, spiritual type thing that doesn't follow rationale. They think with mostly their hearts instead of their heads.

Pneuma analysis is related to psychubes and anamesis. I explained my ideas on pneuma analysis in this post about Vertin but here is a snippet:

Disclaimer: This is speculation using the in game context. New info could change it.

Psychubes are an element of an arcanist's thoughts and they grant stronger abilities/buffs on game. The more you ponder, the more you gain (in game description). Vertin can reflect/meditate in a process called pneuma analysis (resource stage) twice a day, where she acquires lesser Psychubes, Thought Elements, and Thoughts in Entirety. This is the main purpose, but we can dig deeper into the details of how it works (in theory):

Thought Elements: an element of an arcanist’s thoughts. There are so many ways to organize the mess: the furnace that burns and the blade that cuts…but I wish to keep it the way it is.

Thoughts in Entirety: an arcanist’s complete thoughts. As the disorganized has been organized, the darkened vision lightens, ideas are finally taking shape in my mind.

These are the building blocks for greater ideas, which would be higher level Psychubes. On the Psychube page in the Atlas, you will also see the phrase word anamnesis.

In Platonic philosophy, anamnesis is a process of rediscovering knowledge that the soul already possesses but has forgotten. Plato stated the soul has pre-existing knowledge that is brought back to consciousness through the process of questioning and recollection. However, in Christian and Catholic contexts, anamnesis is recollecting the “Passion, Resurrection, and Ascension of Jesus”. In other words, remembering Jesus’s sacrifice and honoring his memory (this is an oversimplification for the sake of brevity). In general, we can think of anamnesis as a profound reflection or recalling of events.

To summarize, the Psychubes interlap with Vertin's emotional state and have been cultivated by her experiences. She reflects, recollects, and creates stronger “impressions” (from the Psychubes). The definition for impression: an idea, feeling, or opinion about something or someone, especially one formed without conscious thought or on the basis of little evidence. These are all emotion/intuition based. Very fitting for an arcanist.

#reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 lore #ask #i hope i didn't make you more confused #reverse 1999 has a lot of terms #and many are open to interpretation so far

[in1-nutshell]

For the Ratchet and Drift adoption battle.  

The Lost light ends up on earth for some reason.  And trouble appears, Buddy’s birthparents.  Coming out of the woodwork demanding to see their child.  Now, depending on how long Buddy has been in the system, the state may have already relinquished their parental rights, but it does bring up another problem, by cybertron standards, Buddy is legally Drifts and Ratchets, Earth standards, less so.

This is just the start of an idea.  Maybe it's angst and the parents are a piece of shit who want the child who they abandoned back for some really selfish reason.  Maybe the parents truly do want some relationship with their child and poor buddy is just stuck in between the family that loves them and the family who they spent their life wishing loved them.

Maybe I just want the lost light to turn this custody battle into a fucking kangaro court.  They show up in their holoforms and Rodimus starts to boo whenever the birth parents try to say something.  He’s kicked out and the court goes into recess as they try and figure out how to hold him in contempt of court.  Luckily a good part of the remaining crew have assembled to always have someone audibly cough whenever birth parents try to speak.  Nevermind the fact that none of them even really need to breathe, holoform or no holoform.  And Ultra Magnus is acting as their attorney.  That's all I got.

The bio parents were done for the moment Magnus took on the case.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy (Dratchet's kid) meeting their bio parents again

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight angst, Human reader

MTMTE

The ship had docked again on Earth for a mandatory, in-person, meeting that Buddy needed to go as liaison of the Lost Light.

It was something simple check in that honestly could have been done online but there wasn’t any harm in some sightseeing. Many of the bots on the ship hadn’t been on Earth or hadn’t been there in a while and wanted to look around.

Buddy stayed with Drift and Ratchet.

Before they headed back to the ship, Buddy wanted to show their bot parents one of their favorite parks they used to go to feed the pigeons.

Ratchet napped in the parking lot, while Drift activated his holoform to go after Buddy.

After a bit Drift started heading back to his alt mode with Buddy trailing behind after forgetting their water bottle at the bench.

Buddy walking back to Drift alt mode.

“Hey kiddo!”

“Buddy turns around and freezes as their face collides with someone’s chest.

A familiar chest.

They push themselves off the person as another person comes up too.

“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”--Buddy

“That’s what I’d like to know.”--Drift

Buddy looks behind them to see Drift’s holoform marching up to Buddy.

He gently places his hand on their shoulder and looks at the two humans.

“A who might you be?”--Drift

“I’m their father.”--Dad

“And I’m their mother.”--Mom

Drift raises his eyebrows.

“Buddy are they…”--Drift

“My biological parents? Yes, and I thought I’d never see you again after you put me in the system.”--Buddy

Neither of the parents get the little hint of venom in their voice.

“Well, we’re here now! And its time to take you home—”--Mom

“Take them home?”--Drift

“Take me home?”--Buddy

“That’s right Pal—”--Dad

“My name is Buddy.”--Buddy

“Whatever, we’re going home now, so if you’d just come here.”--Dad

The ‘Dad’ tries to grab Buddy’s wrist, but Drift pushes Buddy back.

The ‘Dad’ narrows his eyes at Drift.

“Are we going to have a problem here?”--Dad

Drift narrows his eyes as well.

“I think we are.”--Drift

Buddy’s eyes widen.

“Listen everyone, HE is legally my main guardian. Has been with my other guardian for a while now.”--Buddy

The ‘Mom’ huffs.

“Well until WE see the paperwork, if its not justified by the court here then its null and void for us. Now get over here and—”--Mom

“And what’s happening here?”--Ratchet

Buddy smiled at Ratchet’s holoform coming overlooking more annoyed than usual.

“These are Buddy’s biological parents.”--Drift

Ratchet’s eyes narrow and stands by Buddy’s side.

“The parents that put you in the system?”—Ratchet

“Yep.”--Buddy

The ‘Mom’ starts getting more annoyed.

“That’s in the past and we’ve already settled a court order to get Pal—”--Mom

“Buddy.”—Buddy, Drift and Ratchet

“—Back to us.”--Mom

Ratchet turns to Buddy.

“Wait in the ambulance.”--Ratchet

“But—”--Buddy

“Kid, trust me. We need to have a chat with your ‘parents’.”--Ratchet

Buddy looks at them all before walking to Ratchet’s alt mode.

Buddy wordlessly goes to the ambulance while the muffled yelling was heard outside.

They just strap themselves in the back and hug themselves tightly.

Everything went so fast…

They felt their seatbelt tighten.

It’s a heavy quiet on the drive back to the ship.

When they transformed Ratchet passed them to Drift who just holds them to his chassis.

A crew meeting was called.

“So, Buddy’s bio parents want them back because, and I quote ‘We want to embrace them once again!’. Am I missing something?”--Rodimus

“That’s about it.”--Drift

Half of the bots laugh.

“Good luck with that! Buddy’s legally Dratchet’s kid!”--Whirl

“Whirl we’ve talked about the name—”--Cyclonus

“Yeah! They’re Dratchet’s kid!”--Tailgate

“…Why do I even bother with you?”--Cyclonus

“But they did bring up a point, Earth courts and legal system don’t see Buddy as their kid. Meaning to them, Buddy’s still in the system. And if they play their cards right…”--Megatron

Drift and Ratchet stiffen at the thought.

The crew starts talking amongst themselves but all feel angry at this revelation.

“We can’t let that happen!”--Nautica

“That’s why we’re going to court to fight for Buddy’s case. Ultra Magnus has agreed to represent Buddy—”--Megatron

“Those Fleshy’s are so screwed!”--Whirl

Time to take this to court.

Buddy is put into a different home while the case gets settled.

Meaning no contact with anyone.

There had been attempts by the bots to go and see Buddy, but they complied hearing that any visit could jeopardize their position in custody.

Thank goodness Magnus was there to help with the court case and legal things.

Also to help mediate the humans and the bots ‘immature’ actions.

So many of the bots in their holoforms were making obnoxious noises (cough* Rodimus and Whirl*cough).

There were more breaks because of this.

No one of the bots are happy to see the parents when come to the stand, fuming when the pair put on an act.

Even going as far as stating that Drift and Ratchet were unfit parents, not being the same species.

Something strange happens the day when Buddy is supposed to take the stand.

Everyone is asked to come back the next day for the final verdict.

All the bots are confused and worried.

Ratchet and Drift are especially worried about what happened.

Today would have been the first time the pair or anyone would have seen Buddy, and all of a sudden, the day they are supposed to take the stand no one is allowed to see them?

Something is wrong and they can feel it.

The pair find solace in each other while riding high on anxiety.

What if the court decided they truly weren’t fit to raise their human kid?

Would Buddy have to leave the Lost Light for good?

There were too many questions going through their processors right now.

The next day Magnus is updated on what happened yesterday.

The next day the bots and bio parents come in.

Buddy is sitting behind a desk far from everyone else in the room with a guard by their side.

“Ultra Magnus and the crew of the Lost Light, in the case of the legality of the adoption document of Buddy, the jury recognizes that Drift and Ratchet are the legal guardians and will be formally recognized in the system here on Earth.”--Judge

All the bots are floored and cheer hearing the news.

Ratchet and Drift smile the happiest of the bunch.

“Excuse me? What makes these aliens even fit to raise a human child, our child Pal—”--Mom

“Their name is Buddy, Fleshy.”—Whirl and most of the bots

Magnus clears his throat getting everyone’s attention.

“To begin with, you two are charged with attempted kidnapping and aggravated assault of a minor.”—Magnus

The bots behind him eyes go wide.

The parents themselves go pale.

The police start cuffing the bio parents as they squawk in shock.

“What is the meaning of this!? Unhand us!”--Mom

“You have no right—”--Dad

“IF I may!”--Magnus

Magnus ‘clears his throat and intently stares at the parents with hatred in his holoforms eyes.

“You attempted and succeeded in breaking and entering the home where Buddy had been staying and attempted to take them to an unknown location against their will. They fought the both of you off sustaining injuries to both hands and you two fled the scene on foot back to your respected household to pretend that this ‘incident’ never happened the next day.”--Magnus

The bots behind him have a mixture of shock and anger on their faces.

Drift is glaring at the parents wanting nothing more than to punch them square in the jaw.

Ratchet is trying to look over at Buddy for any injury he could spot from where he was sitting.

Magnus looks at Buddy.

“Buddy, if you may show your hands.”--Magnus

Buddy reveals thick bandages on both arms and hands.

“I do believe that is enough evidence. The biological parents are set to a new court date to address these charges. The court once again recognizes Drift and Ratchet as Buddy’s legal guardians, court dismissed.”--Judge

With the swing of the gabble the parents are escorted out screaming and kicking, while Buddy is escorted to a different door.

Once the bots are outside, they can see Buddy running to them with arms wide open.

Drift and Ratchet open their arms as Buddy crashes right into them crying and wrapping their arms around them.

Drift is crying and ratchet is on the borderline of doing so too.

Ratchet carefully looks at Buddy’s wrapped hands.

“Those two good for nothings just wanted to get me back to get my income.”--Buddy

“We can add more charges to their case.”—Magnus

“We can jump them!”—Whirl

Buddy chuckles a bit.

“I think the grapefruit sized marks are enough for now.”--Buddy

Buddy pulls out a wrench from their pocket.

“Learned how to throw from the best.”—Buddy

Ratchet hugs them again as Drift joins in a second later.

The bots all head back to the Lost Light.

Ratchet and Drift never letting go of Buddy for an instant.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #human buddy #mtmte x platonic reader #mtmte x reader #mtmte ratchet x platonic reader #mtmte drift #mtmte ratchet #mtmte drift x platonic reader

[assistant-of-drama]

What if Noah secretly likes Alejandro's evil genius plans and Alejandro realizes this?

When Noah learned that Alejandro heard him warn Owen that the Charmer was an eel, he thought that he was going home that night. What he didn't expect was for Duncan to leave instead. Noah's jaw is stilled dropped as he turned to face a smugly smirking Alejandro, sitting right behind him.

Noah was so confused and honestly, a little nervous. He went to the confessional bathroom to be alone. He didn't say anything to the camera, just simply stared out of the window and thinking to himself for 10 minutes.

Then he heard footsteps outside and the door opening. The lock had stopped working. Isn't that lovely?

He already knew who it was, before he even turned his head to the entrance. An arrogant Alejandro stood in the doorway. Noah takes a deep breath and then sighs.

"Why didn't you vote me off?" Noah asked calmly, despite his heart racing. "I know who you are. I told Owen. The others saw the video. Yet you got rid of Duncan instead. You can't trick me into being your puppet, if that's what you want."

Alejandro chuckles and gets closer. "Oh, Noah, most of the others clearly don't believe you. And you misunderstand. I don't want you to be my puppet. I want you to… appreciate my work. You seem to enjoy my plans, after all."

Noah freezes and blushes slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alejandro gently grabs Noah's face. "I saw the way you've been watching me, the way you react to my strategies. That small, satisfied smile and twinkle in your eyes, whenever I get someone eliminated. You don't truly care about the others, Noah. You like my evil plans. And I like that you enjoy them… I'll admit I was angry and confused at why you suddenly warned Owen, but I couldn't bring myself to vote you off… I just want to know why you did it."

Noah sighs again, resting his tired head on the hand. "Because he's my best friend and I don't like the way that you've been treating him… but everyone else is fair game though."

Alejandro's eye twitches, but his smile remains. "Very well then… I will be nicer to Owen… until the show is over."

Noah snorts in slight amusement. "So, how long are you gonna keep me in the show?"

Alejandro's smile turned strangely fond. "As long as I possibly can, amigo. It's almost therapeutic having someone around that actually likes my true self. Not to mention, you're one of the few sane people on the plane."

Noah smiles sarcastically at that. "Alejandro, I enjoy watching you manipulate others… that's not exactly sane behavior."

Alejandro happily wraps an arm around Noah. "You're still saner than most of them, though. You see the reality of our situation here. The others? They're all just pawns, blinded by their delusions of friendship. They don't understand that the only way to win is to manipulate and control those around them."

Noah's blush deepens and he begins feeling pleasantly warm. "God, you're heartless…"

Alejandro leans as close as he can, making his beautiful eyes all that Noah can see. "You love it…"

Alejandro's lips are so close and they're getting closer, as Noah softly whispers. "I do and I hate that I love it…"

Alejandro's lips then connect with Noah's, their mouths moving in perfect sync as their tongues dance together. The kiss feels both intense and gentle, as if they're two old friends reunited after a long separation. Noah's hands find their way to Alejandro's shoulders, pulling him closer, wanting more of this strange but addicting sensation.

Both weren't aware of a shocked Cody watching them.

When the kiss eventually stopped, Alejandro has an idea. "Why don't we take this to the cargo bay? We could spend the time alone kissing, talking or me telling you about my plans to manipulate and take out the others…"

"Oh, god yes!" Noah moans, holding Alejandro closer. Noah knows that he should be ashamed for liking someone so evil, but he honestly doesn't care. The way Alejandro talks about manipulation and control, it's like he's describing some sort of twisted form of art. It's like Alejandro has this power over others that Noah finds irresistible.

Alejandro grins manically, taking Noah's hand and leading him to the cargo bay.

#alenoah #td noah #alejandro burromuerto #total drama #schemer noah