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suzdin · 1 month

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Belly of the Beast: Part I

Dark!Dave York x F!reader

Warnings: it’s Dave, so…buckle up! No use of y/n. Homicide with a gun, reader is shot and grievously wounded and dying, graphic descriptions of murder and gore, use of medical equipment/terminology, amateur triage and medical care, Dave is a voyeuristic creep, Stockholm syndrome?, physical restraints, partial nudity, divergence from EQ2 plot and major character deaths mentioned. No mention of wife or kids. No smut this time! (Shocking, I know.) Dark themes obviously, I mean, Dave DOES kill for money, after all.

Summary: You’ve been Dave’s housekeeper for two years. When you arrive for your morning shift, the last thing you expect to see is Dave standing over a body.

This was going to be a one shot but I decided it worked better as a two parter. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4,700

Taglist: tagging the people I know for sure want to be tagged. If you want to be tagged for part II, lmk!

@ohheypedrito @kateispunk @survivingandenduring @kellybelly1978 @awilderi @oberynslady @natdeandar @daddy-dins-girl @heavennumber2 @guelyury

—

The sky is still dark, a faint slice of jagged light cast across a slate colored horizon, when you arrive for the day at Dave York’s home.

You notice his car parked in the driveway as you pull in, checking your messages to make sure you hadn’t missed anything from him, finding nothing. You frown.

Normally, he would tell you when he would be home if he knew you were also going to be there that day. He simply must have forgotten to mention it this time. It wasn’t a big deal; you could just work around him like you always did.

He was gone for work more often than not. What that entails, you aren’t entirely sure of; all you knew was that he worked in D.C. Something bureaucratic, most likely.

What was even more curious than his unannounced presence, however, was a second vehicle parked behind his.

You pull up next to aforementioned vehicle and get out, gathering your bucket of cleaning supplies from the backseat. Dave provided most of what was used, but there were a few items you preferred for various reasons, with his approval, of course. You had been his housekeeper for the last two years, servicing his home bi-weekly, and he paid you well, plus tips. You had few complaints.

Although the home was large and stately, he lived alone as far as you knew. You couldn’t recall seeing anyone there before now.

As you walk along the edge of the driveway to the side door, you note the pale illumination filtering out through the kitchen window onto the concrete, which makes sense considering the time of day. He’s most likely just sitting down to have his coffee and breakfast. You hope you don’t startle him too much.

The sun is ascending rapidly, already burning brighter in the short walk from your car to the door, providing you with enough light to get your key out.

You unlock the side door, which steps directly into a small utility and mud room. The interior door to the kitchen is drawn shut, which wasn’t unusual, but an unfamiliar noise registers as you enter, immediately followed by what sounds like chair legs scraping along the tiled floor, and Dave’s voice saying what sounds like a name. Mac? Is that what you heard?

Your mind fumbles over the original sound, knowing it’s familiar, but that you can’t quite place it, trying to trace its source. You can best describe it as a muted pop, loud enough to notice but not so loud as to sound any alarm bells. Or so you think.

You smell the strong waft of coffee and eggs cooking as you enter. And something else.

The scene that is laid out before you as you push open the kitchen door is the last thing you would ever expect or want to find, and the realization of what the unidentified sound was hits you like a freight train.

What you discover is Dave standing above a body, pistol clutched tightly in his right hand, knuckles turning alabaster, with what you’re certain is a silencer screwed to the end of the barrel.

The body sprawled across the floor belongs to a man you don’t recognize, a pool of fresh blood spreading rapidly from a single gunshot wound to the front of the skull, bone and brain matter studding the kitchen island and wall, the stink of crimson iron filling the air.

Dave’s head snaps up when he hears you enter, his face gone pale, but otherwise completely blank and devoid of emotion.

Your eyes lock.

You think you say his name. You aren’t sure, and the only reason you know you’ve said anything at all is because you feel the muscles in your esophagus stretching and vibrating, your heart thundering inside your rib cage.

You’re smart enough to deduce that this isn’t some home invasion gone awry. The unknown car in the driveway and the trained, emotionless nature at which Dave currently presents himself is testament to that.

The only option left is that Dave killed a man. And now he has his sights trained on none other than you.

You drop the bucket of supplies, the hollow sound of plastic hitting ceramic reverberating in your skull as you turn, your brain screaming at you to run, run.

In hindsight, running was a bad idea. But panic doesn’t always create rationale.

You feel your legs pumping, your lungs sucking in air. You want to scream for help but when you attempt it, the only sound that comes out is a small, strangled croak of terror. You feel like a damsel in distress in every horror movie you’ve ever seen, almost as if you aren’t actually moving at all, like you’re just running in place while the villain slowly catches up to you.

If you could just reach the neighbor’s house. If you could just… reach…

You manage to make it to the driveway, but you’re barely a few steps onto the concrete when that same muted pop registers again, and you instantly feel a sharp, burning, agonizing sting that rips right through you like a hot knife through butter, knocking you ass over teakettle just paces from Dave’s car, your face slamming hard against the ground.

You look down to see the spreading circle of blood on your shirt against your lower abdomen, a geyser of red bubbling up from the wound. And Dave is on you in an instant, hovering above you, gun trained right at your head.

You know you’re a goner. Abdominal gunshots are frequently fatal, at least according to the kind of shows you like to watch. And at the rate you’re seeing your blood spill out, you know it’s anything but good.

Before you fully comprehend what is happening, your vision already waning, you’re pleading for Dave to end your life as quickly as possible, ‘please, please Mr. York, I’ve been good to you. Please do it fast’, you choke out.

But Dave doesn’t kill you. His dark eyes bore into you, through you, and he hesitates. He’s watching you die and beg for him to put you down and yet he can’t bring himself to actually do it, regardless of how many names he’s scratched out of his ledger without remorse. Maybe because you’re just an innocent, wrong place wrong time, but he can’t seem to do it.

“Please, don’t let me suffer,” you sob as you lift a single, quaking hand that is slicked deep burgundy, and still he doesn’t put you down, only lowering the gun to his side, and you can’t help but wonder what you did to deserve to suffer slowly like this.

Finally, some sense of self preservation washes over you, and even as you’re dying, in your final throes of desperation, you start ripping and clawing at your shirt, managing to somehow tear a sizable chunk out of it, in order to make some kind of makeshift tourniquet that could potentially save your life.

Your hands shake and slip, blood pressure dropping rapidly, and your vision wanes more, the edges of the lightening sky fading and blotting away. You suddenly feel very cold and you can feel your heartbeat gradually ebbing to a slow, dull throb.

The last thing you see before your vision goes completely dark is Dave crouching over you, his face screwed up in regret.

——

God damn it.

When Dave had found out only days before that McCall was still alive, and that his old compatriot had sniffed out the details shrouding Susan’s death, Dave had lost all sight of anything else, completely forgetting you were scheduled to clean his house that day.

Had he realized, he would have canceled. It would have made things far less complicated.

But God fucking damn it. He didn’t want to kill you, his militaristic training and instincts piloting his actions when you fled instead of surrendering, intending to put a round in your skull but changing his mind at the last possible fraction of a second so that he totally FUBAR’d the shot and hit your abdomen instead. A gut shot wasn’t much better. In fact, it was worse. Way worse.

You’re still breathing when he finishes applying the crude tourniquet that you had started, which didn’t completely stop the bleeding but slowed it enough to make a difference. That way, he could get you down into the basement where he could apply proper triage.

His medical training was rudimentary and archaic at best, but it was better than nothing. And it was his best chance at keeping you alive.

Your blood soaks through the light blue dress shirt Dave is wearing as he carries you through the house draped in his arms, the one you once told him looked nice on him. He takes you into the basement and places you on his work table — which isn’t sterile — noting no exit wound as he sets you down, which can be good or bad, all things depending.

Thankfully, he locates the bullet readily enough, fishing it out with a narrow pair of forceps, discarding it into a medical pan as he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees the bullet didn’t strike anything crucial, an incredibly lucky feat.

He grabs a skin stapler to close up the wound; a messy and rushed method of closure that would leave behind a pretty significant scar, but he didn’t have the luxury of time to close the wound properly with a needle, especially considering the rate at which his hands were already shaking.

He takes in a deep breath when he finishes stapling you back together and leans over you, examining your face and body visually, his mind racing as to what he should do now. You still had a pulse. You were breathing. But you had lost a lot of blood, and your prognosis wasn’t good.

Frowning, the crease deepening between his brows, he cleans and sterilizes the wound, wrapping you up in proper dressing, which he hopes is enough to stave off any infection. He can’t risk taking you to a hospital. Especially when there’s still a dead man to deal with only a floor above.

The good news is that he knew no one would come looking for McCall, the majority believing him to already be dead, so disposal would thankfully be swift and painless. You, on the other hand, he was unsure of. He knew your parents had passed and you didn’t have siblings, but he didn’t know if there was a boyfriend or girlfriend in your life, or friends who would notice your absence.

His mind reels with every possibility. Dave isn’t a man who enjoys loose ends. Loose ends make his ass itch.

Your shirt is shredded and bloody, so he removes the remainder of it, leaving you in a soft black cotton bra. He doesn’t let his eyes wander, although, at the back of his mind, he realizes he has always found you attractive. Just as quickly as it dawns on him, he shakes the thought from his mind; it is neither the time nor place for such endeavors.

He removes your shoes but not your socks, knowing you would be cold from having lost so much blood. He might actually put one of his pairs over your own, for good measure.

After a long beat of silent contemplation, Dave scoops you up into his arms once more.

——

You wake up from a fitful sleep some hours later, in a bed you’ve never slept in before. The room around you is dark, shades drawn, a faint light flooding in from beneath a closed door.

When you attempt to sit up, pain lances through your torso and you cry out, your back hitting the mattress. You immediately realize, much to your horror, that you’re also handcuffed to a bedpost. Even if you could move without effort, you aren’t exactly going anywhere.

Your memory suddenly comes flooding back in a tidal wave of images, recalling all of the events that lead up to this point; the body on the kitchen floor, the gunshot, Dave staring down at you with a pistol in his hand.

But you aren’t in a hospital and this isn’t a hospital bed. You’re in Dave’s bedroom. In Dave’s bed.

The door clicks open and a familiar silhouette steps into the room, regarding you in steely silence. You recognize the broad shoulders right away, the thick arms, the short cropped hair.

Your pulse quickens, your body and mind telling you to flee again, even though you know you can’t, causing you to flinch with a choked whimper when he takes a step toward you.

“I wouldn’t move, sweetheart. You lost a lot of blood,” Dave explains, his voice low and soft to your ears as he approaches the bed.

Your body is trembling hard. So hard that it makes the entire bed vibrate.

He’s no longer wearing the blue shirt or black slacks from before, now dressed in a slate gray t-shirt and Adidas sweats. His dark eyes study you as he sits next to you on the edge of the bed. If you weren’t so weak, you think you would strike him.

He lifts the back of his hand to your cheek and you flinch again.

“Shh,” he tuts, “I’m not going to harm you.”

His hand presses to the soft round of your cheek, your forehead, checking for fever.

“Y-you— you s-shot me—?“ you croak.

“I reacted poorly,” Dave agrees with a small nod, his lips parted softly, “but you also shouldn’t have run.”

“You k-killed… that man…”

“I did, indeed.” His eyes grow a shade darker, his brow knitting together, lending him a sinister appearance. “But that man was threatening me. That man was going to kill me…” Dave explains, an edge of malice and contempt to his voice. “I was left with few options.”

You stare back, unblinkingly, trying to decide what to say next, if anything.

“My family will come looking for me,” is what you settle on, a wash of bravery suddenly welling up within you.

To that, Dave smirks, eyes remaining dark, hand lowering to the bed by your hip.

“What family?” Dave asks, smirk slanting even more, his tone semi-mocking. “Do you really think I would hire someone to come into my home without doing a full investigation on them?”

Your jaw drops open, hanging slack in the air, as it dawns on you that a trained killer has been right under your nose this entire time. You would scream if you had the lung capacity to do so.

You should have seen the patterns. Noticed the signs. The constant travel, the lack of personal touches to his home, the pinpricks of blood you occasionally found on his clothes that you excused for other things. That one room in the basement he forbade you from entering.

But you hadn’t, causing you to nearly pay with your life.

Truth is, Dave had picked you for good reason, and it wasn’t just because of the exemplary reviews. You were naive and trusting, you had no family, no criminal record, you didn’t work for an agency; you worked solo. Your work ethic and reliability were just cherries on top.

You look down to notice the IV needle in your hand, and you lift it in examination, your hand shaking and sputtering weakly. No… no, you really had no clue who this guy was at all.

Dave watches you for a beat before he gently grasps your hand and places it back down on the bed, regarding you with uncharacteristic softness and empathy.

You feel your consciousness starting to drift then as Dave pulls the covers back to check the dressings, finding they’re still intact and that the wound hasn’t reopened from what he can tell. He’ll clean and redress everything in the morning. For now, you need rest.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells you, stepping out of the room for what feels like only a meager blip of time to you, but when you open your eyes again, he’s hovering above you once more with a thermometer and an ice pack.

“Open up,” he instructs, and you do so obediently.

“Good girl,” Dave praises as he checks your temperature, and you close your eyes.

When the thermometer beeps, which feels like an eternity later, he frowns, exhaling a long sigh. “101.5. Here,” he says, leaning to the side where he opens a drawer on the night stand, a bottle of aspirin rattling somewhere next to your head. The sound is grating, making your head throb, and suddenly the lamp seems too bright.

He feeds you some pills and gives you a drink of water from a nearby tumbler, which you guess was also on the nightstand, but aren’t too sure.

He pulls the blanket back up all the way to your chin and places the ice pack on your forehead, staring down at you. Although Dave was the reason you were even here at all, he is treating you with a surprising amount of tenderness.

“You need to eat,” he says after a moment. “Dinner is almost ready.”

——

You must pass out again, because when your eyes reopen, Dave stands next to you with a small tray table filled with food.

“Chicken and dumplings,” he explains. “It will keep the cold away.”

You nod your head weakly as he places the tray over you. When you reach for the spoon, he stops you, blocking your hand with his own.

“Let me,” he says, picking up the spoon. “I don’t want you moving anymore than necessary.”

You have to keep reminding yourself that he’s the one who shot you. He’s why you’re in this mess in the first place. Why you’re here, injured, with a hole in your abdomen, chained to his bed.

The way he’s acting shouldn’t be trusted.

You try to resist, but he grabs your jaw with the other hand and forces it to pop open, pressing the spoon past your lips as he ladles the soup into your mouth, much to your displeasure.

“Eat,” he says softly, but sternly, his features darkening in regard.

The food is warm, as promised, and delicious. You aren’t sure of the last time you ate, not knowing what time or even what day it is, but you soon realize you’re starving. Because of this, the second spoonful is not met with as much resistance as the first, your mouth hinging open in resignation and acquiescence.

Dave’s eyes zero in on your soft lips. The way they twitch ever so slightly as they divide. The way your tongue looks so velvet and inviting…

He feeds you slowly, thoughtfully, watching your every move, his own lips parted in concentration as you take in the much needed sustenance.

By the end of it, you’ve managed to polish off about half the bowl. Seemingly satisfied with that, he makes you drink some Gatorade.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask weakly as soon as you swallow down a couple gulps of the blue liquid, your consciousness ebbing and flowing by the second. Dave looks at your face, but he doesn’t give you an answer. He doesn’t have one to give.

Part of him wishes he did.

“I have to pee,” you tell him suddenly when you notice the familiar stab of discomfort in your lower region. A realization that sends a jolt of anxiety rushing through you, your pulse racing when you watch his face fall. He hadn’t even thought of that…

His skills and equipment were limited to wound care, so of course he hadn’t put a catheter in. He wouldn’t know how even if he did happen to have one.

He deliberates on what to do. He didn’t have a bed pan. But, he was sure he could find something comparable to use.

Or he could help you to the bathroom. He has an en suite, it was literally only steps around the bed. But the space was tight. It would take some maneuvering. And he would have to be close to you the entire time. Not to mention uncuffing you from the bed.

In the end, that’s what he settles on.

“Let me help you to the bathroom, sweetheart,” he says to you, pulling the blankets back, and you are cold. So cold. Your flesh pebbling with the lick of cool air against your skin.

He unlocks the handcuffs and you massage your sore wrist and shoulder the moment you have full motion of your arm again.

“Slowly,” he instructs, his voice low and even. “Grab the IV stand.”

You do as you’re told, gripping the cool steel in your hand as you grasp his forearm with the other while he gingerly manipulates you into a sitting position. You cry out at the sudden dagger of pain that slices through your lower gut, and he does his best to steady you against him.

He did this to you, you keep reminding yourself. He did this to you.

He lifts you carefully, slowly, and you groan at the swell of pain when he places you on your feet.

“Easy, easy…” he murmurs, one arm circling your waist to keep you upright. You flinch at the contact.

You make it to the bathroom easily enough, light flooding the small room as Dave flips the switch. A bathroom you’ve cleaned countless times. There was rarely much to clean in here, save for the occasional whisker in the sink, or some light trash in the bin.

Dave was neat and fastidious, and not frequently home. You often wondered why he needed someone to clean his house in the first place.

The space looks no different than usual, but right now it feels… different. You shouldn’t be here.

He guides you to the toilet, and when you get there, you stare down at it, pondering to yourself how this is going to work.

He seems hesitant to leave your side.

“Go ahead,” he tells you softly, “I won’t look.”

You freeze. The last thing you want is to expose your body to him when he already has several advantages on you. But your bladder is screaming at you to go, especially now given your proximity to the porcelain bowl, and you can barely stand on your own, your arms and legs wobbling.

You watch as he turns his back, placing himself between you and the exit. You bend just slightly to tug your bottoms down, but it’s too much, more pain coursing through your body. You yelp, unable to even budge the fabric.

“Hey,” Dave says, turning back to face you, “Let me help you.”

“No, I—I got it,” you protest, your arms shaking, attempting it again, only to end up with the same result. “Fuck—“

“Hey,” Dave says a second time, more sternly than before, as he moves in to your space. “Let me help. I promise I won’t touch you.”

You tremble. You’re cold, you’re frightened, you’re weak. So weak. You’re in your bra, partially exposed to him already. Yet, you concede with a nod anyway. You’ll piss yourself if you don’t.

He mirrors your nod in silent confirmation and moves closer, crowding into your intimate space, his fingers finding the waistband of your leggings and underwear. He slides them down your hips and legs in unison, all the way to your knees. As promised, he doesn’t touch you more than he needs to.

But he has to look. He needs to see where his hands are in relation to your body in order to keep himself from accidentally breaking his promise of touching you in a way you didn’t consent to, and another part of him just can’t help it, either. He is a man, after all, and he wasn’t currently seeing anyone. Romance wasn’t exactly optimal for someone in his position, his attention honed in on his work above all else.

When the nights were long and lonely enough, he would, on occasion, share his bed with a sex worker, but aforementioned nights were few and far between. He enjoyed his job. He got off on it. Romance was often placed on the back burner.

But there’s just something about you. Especially now, with how vulnerable you are, that he finds irresistible.

His gaze only lingers on your bared skin for a moment, big brown puppy dog eyes roving over your soft curves, holding on to you as he lowers you down to the commode. And, god, you’re just as beautiful as he imagined, his skin heating at the sight of your soft folds.

“Call for me when you’re done,” he grates quietly as he takes a step out of the bathroom, blood rushing to certain parts of his body, shutting the door to give you a modicum of privacy, which you’re more than grateful for.

His eyes on you had not gone unnoticed. You weren’t stupid and you weren’t seeing anyone either, currently; his attention, regardless of how brief, had made your skin heat and your core pulse with need. You clear your throat and try to discard the thought.

Dave is why you are here. Dave is dangerous. So dangerous he can’t even take you to a hospital to get proper medical attention. Stop it.

It feels like you pee for ages. You aren’t totally convinced you’re awake for most of it. Eventually, you finish, even managing to wipe yourself, in spite of things, which you’re relieved for. You wouldn’t want him to do it for you; that would be humiliating and degrading.

You call for Dave when you’re done and he returns in an instant, hoisting you to your feet as he pulls your pants and underwear back up and over your hips, trying not to think about your soft cunt. You can see how hard he’s trying not to look at you.

“Good?” he asks. You nod.

Bracing yourself against him, he helps you back to the comfort of the bed. It smells like him, despite how little he’s actually in it. You hiss through your teeth as he manipulates you into position, adjusting the pillows and covers until you’re as comfortable as possible.

You’re cold. Freezing, in fact, despite it being the swell of summer.

“I’m c-cold,” you lament to Dave, crossing your arms over your chest beneath the blanket.

Dave’s lips pinch to the side in thought. “Hold on.”

He returns a moment later with an extra blanket, tossing it over you, tucking the edges neatly around your form, taking extra care to be gentle, noteably around your abdomen.

As you watch him, his face and eyes soft, his hair mussed and unkempt, you ask yourself once again why he’s doing all of this for you.

Guilt? Shame? Something else?

You don’t have much time to ruminate on it for too long before your consciousness peters away once more.

——

Dave sighs as he watches you slip back into listlessness. You’re doing better than he anticipated, but you aren’t out of the woods yet. He knows how much blood you had lost; he’d spent hours cleaning it. Not to mention McCall, the remains of which he had delivered to an acquaintance who works at the industrial incinerator on the outskirts of town, after tending to you.

He loops your hand back through the cuff on the bedpost and peers down at you. You’re so beautiful; he hopes you make it. He wishes you hadn’t run from him. God, why did you run? He doesn’t want you to meet the same fate as McCall. He doesn’t want to know what your incinerated body smells like.

Every body has a different smell, in his experience.

He gives you another dose of morphine to reduce any pain you may be feeling and to keep you knocked out for a few more hours, checking for fever again, which is currently holding steady. It was good that it wasn’t going up. Any higher and you could potentially be in trouble. He’ll keep checking throughout the night to be on the safe side.

He sighs, knowing he’ll have to stay in town for weeks, which he detested doing. He hated staying in one place for longer than required. But he didn’t have much of a choice at this point.

He turns off the light and shuts the door behind him as he leaves you to rest.

Part II coming soon!

#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #writing #fanfic #romance #dark romance #pedro fanfic

176 notes · View notes

mayhemories · 1 year

Note

Neteyam x reader (She/her pronouns)

Huddling for warmth trope please!

If You Wanted A Cuddle, You Could Have Asked

Uh-oh, I took 'huddling' and ran with it... I hope you're still satisfied with my interpretation of this trope, wanted to make it a little different but really could've gone a million different ways with this one! I have been loving all of the requests that have been sent, keep sending them they provide me with so much joy and purpose. <3

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar)

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: This fluff gets a lil spicy, !!no minors!!

Words: 1.2k

Author’s Notes:

Neteyam is 21, reader is 21. Lo’ak and Kiri are roughly 20ish. I’m gonna estimate Tuk is 7 or 8?

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Taglist: @myheartfollower @luvlykrispy

Read below the cut:

You tossed and turned in your sleeping hammock. The rains had come early to you mountain home. Usually, the forest was warm, sometimes humid. But since moving to High Camp the altitude and rain came together to create something you never really felt bred for, the cold.

You were shivering, your teeth chattering against one another in rapid succession. You felt your nose and the tips of your ears begining to burn, the pain sizzling into numbness, usually a comforting feeling to you when you were high in the sky, soaring with your ikran. But now, you just felt ill. You weren’t really one to normally care about clothes, but you were thankful for the shawl Kiri had gifted you earlier in the evening, pulling it tighter around your shoulders, bringing your knees as far as they could to your chest, in fetal position.

Yet warmth never found you.

You opened your eyes, groaning as you rolled onto your back, looking up at the waxed canvas and leather that built your tent. This time of year the sky often held the three moons, their light beautiful and full, causing Pandora’s bioluminescence to glow brighter, for longer. The waxed canvas was fantastic at keeping the light out at night.

Usually.

You quickly held your hands up to your face, shivering as you did so, hands shaking ever so slightly. You could see them perfectly, like it was the middle of the day. It was far too bright in here, you could never see your hands usually.

Your head whipped around, sitting up in your hammock you tried to find where the light was coming from.

Right above your door, a perfect circle was cut into the waxed canvas, the moonlight flooding in, brining all the cold air with it. It would be an easy fix in the morning, just a small little patch to cover it. It wasn’t unusual for the canvas to wear or damage, or even for the leather to rip over time. But this was a perfect little hole. Like someone had done surgery on your tent to let all the cold air in and to flush you out.

You knew it was late but you were so inconceivabley angry that someone had messed with your wall, and, that you were cold. So, you slipped out of your hammock, your aching legs hitting the ground and walked to the only person that could make you feel better about both things.

Slipping into the Sully’s tent at night wasn’t that uncommon for you, you would always long to see your friends, and you knew Jake and Neytiri didn’t mind waking up to you being in their home, in fact they encouraged sleepovers your whole childhood, that did not fade into your adulthood. What was surprising, however, was that the Sully’s were asleep in front of their firepit that Neytiri used for cooking. They obviously had felt the cold too, despite their tent not being sabotaged. Jake laid near the door, Neytiri’s head on his chest and little Tuk asleep on his stomach. Lo’ak was only an arms length away from Neytriri laying on his back, long lanky arms strewn across his face. You stifled a laugh when you noticed Kiri, using Lo’ak’s ankles as a pillow, green shawl wrapped tightly around her, she laid like you had only moments ago, fetal, craving warmth.

Neteyam laid on the other side of the open room, furthest away from the fire, but with a woven blanket Kiri had made him for his most recent nameday. He laid with plenty of room, and conveniently, plenty of blanket.

Neteyam had never officially courted you, or even expressed the want, or any thoughts about you at all really.

But in all your childhood sleepovers, until now, Neteyam always left space for you, you always found eachother anyway. Even if you started of opposite sides of the room, you knew that you would end up wrapped in his thick arms, head on his chest, legs wrapped up in one another.

There was one night, last summer when you awoke in the middle of the night, Neteyam spooning you, as you so often did, but his tail had wrapped itself around your thigh. You had never felt so seen as you did that night.

You made quick work of crawling under the blanket. You laid on your side, facing away from him, yet his relaxed features did not leave your mind. You knew you were freezing, you refrained from touching him, but his radiating heat helped nonetheless.

You sighed, deeply. It felt so right being here like this, with him. You did not want to think about when you would inevitably find this space filled by another, for now, Neteyam had no lover, and the space was yours.

Neteyam stirred, pulling you by the waist to be close to him, entrapping you there with his heavy arm across your abdomen. His hot breath fanned out across the shell of your ear. Your ear flicked back and forth, adjusting to the warmth and the sensitive sensation.

“You are so cold, ma (y/n).” Neteyam whispered, his voice husky with sleep. You couldn’t help but clench your thighs to relieve some tension. “Come, we can huddle together for warmth.” Neteyam pushed his body closer to yours, entangling your legs, and wrapping his other arm under your neck.

This was everything you wanted, but you were too hot for all the wrong reasons. You could feel Neteyam in every intimate way along your back and behind. His breath fanned over your ear and down your face, remnants of the intimacy causing goosebumps to rise on your exposed neck.

“There was a hole in my tent.” You whispered softly to the boy nearly asleep behind you. Surely, providing context to your late night sleepover would make the whole thing more normal.

“I know, ma (y/n).” The ghost like touch of Neteyam’s soft lips found your hair line, leaving nothing but the imagination of a kiss in its wake. “How else would I have assurance that you would come to find me in the middle of the night? Happens a lot less often these days.” You felt your stomach drop and flip simultaneously at Neteyam’s sleepy confession. You knew that this was something probably worth getting angry over, but as Neteyam’s tail wrapped around your thigh, and one of his hands ghosted over the mound of your breast, and his lips left small, barely-there kisses down the side of your face and neck, you couldn’t find it in you to be angry.

He made you feel a lot of things in that moment, across your entire body, mind and soul. But angry was not one of them.

“I will patch it tomorrow morning, I promise.” Neteyam said softly, as his tail made its way up and down your thigh, his strong thumb rubbing circles into your hip bone.

“I would surely hope so,” You whispered, turning your head, your lips a hairsbreadth apart. “If you wanted a cuddle, you could’ve asked Neteyam.” His lips were as warm as what you always had pictured them to be. Soft, but his kiss was not. His tongue explored your mouth, and though you tried to assert dominance you knew you would let this boy ruin you. He stifled your moan with his own mouth, though realising what he coaxed from you he pulled away, smiling in the firelight.

“I want to do so much more than just cuddle. But this is for warmth, and warmth only.” His smile and golden eyes were always going to be enough for you to feel warmth. It did not hurt that his body was there too.

#avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar twow #avatar domestic #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #jake sully #jake sully domestic #jake sully platonic #jake sully x neytiri

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turbulentscrawl · 5 months

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I just read the luca with a modern reader and it was so nice! Could we get a modern reader with Andrew?

heck yeah you can!

-Andrew is a tougher cookie to crack on this one because he acts like he super does not give a fuck. But, er, he acts like he doesn’t give a fuck about a lot of things. That’s kind of his go-to for new arrivals. He’ll do a bit of mocking maybe, but otherwise he just observes them, scowling, trying to judge their character from a distance.

-Your saving grace is how the other people in the manor will react to your arrival. Because, while there are some good eggs like Luca, there’s obviously going to be some extra distrust and apprehension around someone from a whole different era. You have very different educations, mindsets, opinions…things like that would get people labeled as a heretic or witch in most of these peoples’ times. If Andrew sees you being treated like you’ve already done something wrong just by existing, it endears him to you just a tiny bit. Just enough to give you an opening.

-Maybe someone says something to you at dinner—we all know Andrew’s sensitive to the word “monster”—or heaven forbid even breaks something that got brought along from home. Well, obviously you’d be upset. And Andrew can’t resist taking offense on your behalf. He’s not likely to do anything for you in the moment, but he makes a mental note. And the next time you see Andrew alone, even just passing each other in the hall, he’s…nice? Nice for Andrew’s standards, anyway.

-And after that he seems to curb with attitude with you more. It’s still a bit of a stretch to call him friendly, but it’s clear he’s making some effort towards correcting that. He stands by you more, sits near you at meals, close enough that he can hear you whenever you talk even if you’re quiet. He doesn’t say much himself, but the eye contact has to count for something! He’s listening, even if no one else is.

-After a bit, he takes some interest in your phone. It’s a really big leap in technology for him, so don’t expect much in the way of understanding from him. Teaching Andrew cellphone terminology is ten times worse than teaching your grandma how to send an email. But, uh, he thinks your magic rectangle is…nifty? Definitely not monster-ish at all.

-If you have media saved to your phone, 85% of the time he’s not a fan. He doesn’t understand modern humor at all, thinks animated shows look weird, and so much of our culture in general is overstimulating to him. Some of the music is alright, though. The calming stuff. Low-Fay? Is that it?? He thinks texting seems very handy, too, and would nose through old conversations with your friends and family if you gave him half a chance. Yes, it’s kind of an invasion of privacy, but it helps him feel a little more connected to you, to the life you had. If you ever express sadness at not being able to text anymore, he’ll take a page from Victor (baddumtss) and start slipping you written notes more often. That’s a little like texting, isn’t it? Wick is pretty fast on the delivery, too.

-He likes to use the flashlight on your phone and call Kreacher “obsolete” because fuck that guy.

-If you, for some reason, have light-up shoes…he’s lowkey enamored. Andrew is so used to getting around at night, digging those stupid tunnels despite being claustrophobic, and it’s such a hassle to have to carry a lantern and try to dig at the same time! …but your shoes have lights on them? Ingenious. Just, uh, maybe Luca can make them a little brighter?

-Yoga pants and skin-tight muscle shirts are the bane of his existence. It leaves nothing to the imagination. Are you doing this to him on purpose? Teasing him?? What do you mean that’s normal casual wear??? Put on a cloak!

#Idv x reader #identity v #idv gravekeeper #andrew kreiss x reader #turbulentscrawl #Starting a petition to get Andrew some LED sneakers #philomena's files

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beanghostprincess · 4 months

Text

The Strawhats go to an amusement park and Sanji sees the most adorable, softest, cutest, plushie of a fish as a prize in one of those Shooting Games. He loves it. It's so cute. And he has always been fond of soft things, even if the only one who has ever known this is his mom. Usopp stops next to him and asks "What? Did you see something you like?" and Sanji blushes furiously and brings a cigarette to his lips, looking away and muttering "No- No. It's stupid. Let's keep walking, I saw some food trucks right this way". But Usopp won't have that. And so he lets the crew walk away and do whatever while he stays in that Shooting Booth for a long, long while. Usually, he would just finish the game and win whatever he wants in no time because, well, he's the best sniper ever. But apparently, he just can't win this fucking game no matter how good his aim is. And he knows he's not doing it wrong. He knows it's not him.

The dude working there says that maybe he's overconfident because the game is perfectly fair. But you know, Usopp is also the best liar in the world and he just knows when somebody isn't telling the truth.

After a long while, Usopp finds the crew eating together at one of the tables close to the food stands, but he can't spot Sanji anywhere. Not until he looks around and he sees him obviously talking to one of the cooks in what seems to be his break. Of course he would ask about recipes instead of eating. Well, Usopp just waits there until Sanji finishes talking and he turns around, their eyes meeting for the first time in a few hours. Sanji's immediate reaction is to grin at him, but then he tones it down a bit and clears his throat, looking away for a few seconds. "Did you get lost on the way to here? That's more of a marimo thing to do, huh? What were you doing?"

Usopp is excited to give him the gift. Or afraid he won't like it. Or maybe just anxious. Maybe it's too much. Maybe he realizes that he has a crush on him and every effort he's made to hide it will go to waste. But it's more important to see Sanji smile, he thinks, so Usopp breathes in and shows him the stuffed animal. "I was just getting back something you forgot on the way. Nothing much."

Sanji's face is indescribable. He gasps and drops the cigarette he's been holding to take the fish from the sniper's hands. He looks at it with so much love and fondness that Usopp is extremely glad he did this. "You're an idiot." But there's no malice in his eyes when he looks up at him. "Why did-"

"A sharpshooter cannot back down in front of a challenge like this!" But he leaves his cocky speech aside to shrug and smile at Sanji back. "And you seemed to like this cutie, so I thought it'd be nice for you to have it."

Sanji stares at him deadpanned for a few seconds. "I'm buying you food."

He can't help but roll his eyes. "Shut up. You're not." Sanji always does these things.

"It's true. I'm not." He holds the plushie close to his chest with one hand while he starts pushing Usopp, his other hand on his back. "We're going back to the ship and I'm cooking you something."

Usopp wants to stop walking, but the other keeps making them move. "Sanji." He sighs. "Accept a gift like a normal person."

The only thing Usopp can see right now is the back of Sanji's head because he's walking faster than him now, impatiently leading the way to Sunny. "You're my sniper and you got me this. And I'm your cook and I will make you something to eat." He turns around for a second and grins, brighter than the fireworks around them. Brighter than any light from this festival Usopp has seen. "That's how we work. Shut up and follow me."

So Usopp follows.

When they see that same Shooting Game again, completely in ruins and a bunch of kids taking the prizes and having fun around the chaos, Usopp tries to walk faster. And faster. But Sanji stops walking, so he has to stop too. "Usopp."

The sniper looks around anxiously. "Yeah? What's up?"

"No." Sanji frowns. "You tell me what's up."

Usopp is about to lie or confess, one or the other, but full of fear of rejection anyway. Until he sees Sanji's amused expression, about to burst out laughing, and it brings his confidence back. "You know. I guess some liars just don't deserve to get away with their schemes. That's all."

And when he sees Sanji giggling and rolling his eyes, holding the fish closer, Usopp thinks he would set a thousand booths like this on fire if it meant seeing him smile.

#inspired by the fact that i have a plushie of the cutest shark and i always watch one piece with it #usopp being the literal definition of be gay do crimes #they're not dating here and it makes it even more adorable #i just know sanji sleeps with that thing every day now #one piece #black leg sanji #usopp #sanuso

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official-n3va3h · 3 months

Text

“Here I’ll hold your hand”

« Hwang Hyunjin x fem reader »

Synopsis: Of course you said yes when he asked you to go the carnival, you just might’ve forgotten to tell him one thing…

Genre: fluff, little bit of hurt/comfort byv

Warnings: heights, use of pet names, hand holding

“Yeah, sure I’ll go with you”

“Really, okay I’ll come get you at 6?”

“Ok, I’ll see you later, bye!”

You were smiling from ear to ear, just thinking of going out with him. Hyunjin was one of your closest friends, you’ve met throughout highschool and of course you had the fattest crush on him. I mean the man is practically glowing every time you look at him, he’s just effortlessly beautiful. So obviously you said yes when he asked you out to the carnival tonight, but what you didn’t tell him is your unbearable fear of heights.

Hoping he dosent try to ride any crazy rollercoasters or something, you immediately started to get yourself together.

“What time is it?” You asked your roommate, as you were still in the bathroom getting ready.

“Quarter to 6” she replied.

You stuck your head out the bathroom door with a hand full of hair and brush in the other, an annoyed almost confused look on your face.

“Really…”

“Whaaat” she said slurring her words, with a slight grin on her face

“can’t you be normal and just say the time” You said rolling your eyes and poking your head back into the bathroom.

“It’s 5:45, genius” Your roommate giggled out.

You continued to get ready trying to look your best for your carnival date with Hyunjin. You wore an off the shoulder shirt and a flattering pair of jeans to match. You slipped your sneakers on and then there was a knock at your front door.

“That’s him, girl go!” your roommate squealed pushing you towards the door

You grabbed your bag and opened your door.

There he was, right in front of you tall and handsome, smiling at you. The reflection of the sunset on his hair and facial features, made him look almost angelic.

“Hey, you ready?” he asked

You nodded, shut the door behind you and followed him to his car. The drive to the carnival was short only like 10 minutes, with some small talk here and there you were there before you knew it. You both got out the car, and you walked past the huge beaming sign.

“Carnival”

The carnival was filled with different rides, games, and food trucks.

Hyunjin immediately spotted a portrait painting stand, grabbed your hand and rushed over. Your heart was pumping and your cheeks rushed with blood.

“Omg y/nnn, we have to do this.” He said smiling pushing his lengthy brunette hair out of his face.

“Yeah let’s do it” you replied back.

We sat down on the bench in front of the lady painting the portraits and she went straight to work. Hyunjin was leaning over with one hand wrapped around your shoulder and the other holding a heart next to his face. You smiled leaning your head against his with your hands clasped together on your lap. Around 30 minutes later, the picture was finished. Hyunjin payed the artist and she handed us the freshly painted picture.

“Woahhh…this is amazing” you said peeking at the picture in his hands.

“Yeah it’s so beautiful” he said smiling. “Maybe it’s cause your in it, your smile is so adorable” he spoke staring down at you.

Your cheeks heated up again and your heart pounded so loud you thought anyone close could hear it. You playfully slapped his arm and giggled, continuing your night.

After a couple hours of playing games and eating food you both began walking towards the exit. The sun was almost fully set and the carnival and city lights shined throughout the night. The farris wheel shined brighter than everything and with everyone leaving the line was practically empty.

“Y/n look the line for the farris wheel is so short we have to ride it before we go”

Your heart dropped, you looked at the contraption as it towered over the whole fair. What the hell why did it have to be this tall ass Farris wheel.

“Oh…shit” you mumbled “don’t you think it’s kinda late maybe another time hm?” You said to him.

His smile slowly dropped and he sighed. “But…y/nnnn”

You cursed yourself in your head for letting his stupidly cute face convince you otherwise. Now here you are 150 feet in the air, gripping your seat like your life depends on it.

Hyunjin smiled as he admired the view and took a few pictures, letting the breeze brush his face. Eventually his attention turned to you.

“Y/n, are you okay?” He said with a tinge of concern in his voice.

“Y..yeah..I’m fine…just admiring” you said with a awkward laugh.

The higher you went, the worse you felt, your stomach turned, every little movement made you uneasy. Eventually you clamped your eyes shut, continuing to grip the seats.

“Y/n… are you sure your okay?” He said with his full attention on you now.

After a couple deep breaths you finally gave in to his prying.

“N..no Jin…I’m scared” you shakily sighed “I really don’t like heights”

“You don’t? …why didn’t you tell me, we didn’t have to get on” he said feeling sorry for making you get on.

“I know..I just…I didn’t wanna disappoint you…you looked so happy” you muttered still clamping the seat.

He gently spoke “Awh…love, you didn’t need to do that, just being with you is enough for me.”

Your heart fluttered. You slowly opened your eyes facing him

“Jin…you mean that?” you softly said.

“Yes genius, of course I mean it…” he replied back with a gentle tone “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t meant it”

You felt slightly better but you held your seats tight, you still were terrified.

“Hey look, try and look at all the lights instead of straight down” he said pointing out at the city. “See aren’t they beautiful.”

You slowly rose your head and stared down at the lights from all the different city buildings. It really was beautiful, but you still felt like you need to hold something, so you’d feel safe, secure almost. hyunjin noticed your hands on the seats and eventually reached out.

“here I’ll hold your hand.”

•—————————————•

A/N: stopp this was my first fic, and I decided to take it easy with fluff, this concept was soo cute to me😚😚BUT PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF ITS GOOD OR NOT. I can’t tell if I did too much or not enough😭😭

#skz headcanons #skz #reading #writeblr #my writing #fanfic #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #carnival au #carnivalcore #skz stay #stray kids au #skz fluff #skz hurt/comfort #fear of heights

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anfie-in-the-box · 2 months

Text

X-tra Dark Cream & Dark Cream Week

Notes

This time there's only one work I wrote for Dark Cream Week. But what a work that is! (Well, if I haven't messed it up like I think I did.) Be warned that it contains heavy spoilers for Turns, twists, and paradoxes!

Or does it? Only time will tell!

。。。

Eclipse

Dream doesn’t get enough sleep. These days he actually needs it to function properly, so weak he has become, as if withering away. As if dying. So far from the guardian he'd used to be, yet less naive, more experienced. Was his suffering worth it? Dream doesn’t know the answer. What he does know is that he also needs to eat, keenly aware of how brittle his bones have become underneath the liquid negativity that ruins him just as much as both negativity and positivity around. He's endlessly balancing on the thin line in between, that fleeting moment when love turns into grief, trust into betrayal, hope into despair. Then and only then his pain fades, though does not disappear completely, and there's no getting used to it.

Dream's drowsing when his chest starts hurting so suddenly and so unnaturally he screams, the sound echoing through the Anti-Void, his sight blurry. Dream screams and screams, too afraid to check the only thing that could be wrong with him. It hurts so much, but he can't do it alone, can't make himself see his sentence. He sits up, pulls his legs to his chest, and waits for Cross to return with food that now might go to waste.

Dream's not sure how long it takes Cross to get back. Dream doesn’t even see or hear him coming, consumed by piercing pain in his chest and overwhelming terror; not trembling, not moving, not crying. Not screaming anymore, either. He just doesn't want to die, he wants the pain to stop, but doesn't know how to express it. Do his pleas even matter? They never did.

Cross must recognise something is wrong immediately, and when he gently touches Dream's shoulder, Dream finally manages to snap out of it. “I was waiting for you,” Dream whispers, his voice hoarse after who knows how much time of screaming. “I wanted to be with you when I…”

Cross’ distress flares, and he asks, urgently, “What happened?”

Dream whispers even quieter, “I think the curse has taken all of my soul. It hurts so much.” Cross looks taken aback, his worry turning into fear. The emotions soothe the pain a little, and Dream sighs and resolves to continue, “I just want you here. So you could call our family. So you all could be there when I…”

“Don't!” Cross shouts, obviously louder than intended, and his voice echoes through the Anti-Void. He keeps on in a more steady tone, “Let's see your soul first, okay? We've done it so many times already. Let it be just a normal check-up.”

“Okay,” Dream whispers. Cross’ determination has always made him stronger in a way no amount of positivity ever could. They're so lucky to have each other.

Dream summons his soul, gasping and shutting his socket from pain and fear of the unknown. He doesn't want to die, and seeing his whole soul corrupted feels like it would solidify his death sentence. He's not ready. He wants a happy ending for Cross and Nightmare, Killer and Ccino. And there'd be no happiness for his beloved family if he died. He doesn't want to leave them. It hurts so much to think about, the same way his chest hurts from corruption.

Dream finally opens his good socket.

It's the most peculiar, the most mesmerising sight he's ever seen.

His soul is indeed fully black, seemingly rotten to the core. But despite the corruption, there is a gentle, warm golden light around the black apple, the same way it always used to be, only a little brighter because of the contrast of the glow and the apple itself.

“What?..” Dream mouths without a sound, too afraid to make it worse. “It's like an eclipse,” Cross murmurs, awe and fear mixed in his voice. Then he adds, “We definitely need Nightmare.”

“We need Nightmare,” Dream repeats, only registering his brother's name and a specific sound of a portal opening. He lets Cross help him stand up and lead him through the portal, his soul disappearing into his ribcage because he loses any semblance of control.

Dream manages to focus on the world around him only when the door slams loudly, someone — his big brother, it's his big brother's voice, changed so much yet familiar, comforting, — Nightmare hurries to him, asking Cross, “What is it? Why are you two in different kinds of pain?”

Oh. Dream has forgotten about the pain in his chest as soon as he saw Cross coming back to him. It hurts still, but now that there's hope…

Cross suggests they sit in the living room, and so they do, Cross gently helping Dream onto his favourite armchair. Then, he asks Dream to show his soul once again. The pain lessens somewhat.

It's less of a shock for the second time, but just as mesmerising. Cross was right when he said it looked like an eclipse. Dream's soul used to shine like a sun, then it got cursed and slowly glowed more and more faintly, but now that it has gotten fully corrupted (at least from the outside), it still glows. Can it be that there's still a part of the apple that was able to fight off the curse, to stay as pure as it used to be?..

The twins were never supposed to have souls anyway. Who knows how they work. Who knows if Dream has a chance.

“That's why you two are hurting so much,” Nightmare speaks quietly, barely a whisper. “That's why you're so afraid. Oh Dream…”

“I don't want to die,” Dream replies.

“I don't want to lose you,” Nightmare says.

“We don't want to lose you,” Cross adds.

“But the glow!” Dream exclaims in a sudden burst of energy. “It's like an eclipse! It means we still have time, right? It's not forever, right?..”

Nightmare looks him in the socket and sighs, “I don't know. No eclipse is eternal, that is true. But how this one will end, I do not know. I only know you are our sunshine, and we won't let go that easily. We'll find a way.”

Dream nods slowly. “Can I… Can I sleep here for a bit? It hurts less when I'm with you, I think.” He asks hesitantly. Nightmare and Cross both take his hands and lead him to Nightmare's bedroom.

“I'll continue researching the nature of souls, and Cross will be with you. When Killer comes back, I will send him to find the Underhelpers. They'd never give a proper answer, but a hint might be just enough. And we already know that who seeks will always find. You will be saved, little brother.”

Dream falls asleep, and when he wakes up, everything will change once again.

After all, the eclipses are not forever.

。。。

Credits

Undertale © Toby Fox

Dreamtale © jokublog

Cross © xtaleunderverse

Shattered © galacii-gallery

Dark Cream and Dark Cream Week © zu-is-here

X-tra Dark Cream © me (anfie / anfie-in-the-box)

。。。

Notes

I'm very tired, and a little anxious to post this. So just... Thanks for reading, and take care 🌻

#anfie writes #x-tra dark cream #dark cream week #dream!sans #shattered!dream #cross!sans #nightmare!sans #passive!nightmare #utmv

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nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx · 25 days

Text

Helpless part 38, devil's roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

Nico turned for the hundredth time, he checked the clock, 01:53am. He still hadn't been able to get to sleep, he stared out the window until he noticed a figure standing outside the infirmary. The doors weren't locked, he wasn't sure why but he walked outside trying to see who would be standing outside side the infirmary, by the look of it smoking at almost two in the morning. As he edged closer, still remaining perfectly silent he realised it was Will, he crept up behind him, not believing his eyes. As he got closer he realised he was crying, he sank to the floor as he brought the cigarette back to his lips, breathing the smoke in and out.

"Will, are you okay?" He said sitting down next to him,

"Neeks? What are you doing out here?"

"Couldn't sleep, saw someone outside. Will what happened?" Nico said, grasping his hand,

"Lost a patient today, she was barely seven. Isla Brown, I thought she was doing better, she said she was feeling fine, everything seemed normal, we were doing hourly check ups, she was fine at seven, then we walked in at eight and she had no pulse, she never said anything about being in pain, and we tried to bring her back but it- it didn't work. We never even found out her godly parent, I think she was an Athena kid though, she was crazy smart especially for her age."

"I'm so sorry."

"I should have been able to save her."

"You can't prevent every death, it's part of how the world work."

"But she was so young."

"I know, the world in cruel that way."

"It's my fault, I should have noticed I-"

"Noticed what? Something you still can't figure out?"

"I should have run extra tests I-"

"William. It isn't your fault, there was nothing you could do. She's happy, she's in Elysium, I can sense it, and she doesn't blame you."

"But-"

"Shh, you said you could glow in the dark, can you show me?" A faint light started to appears from around him, growing brighter quickly.

"I can go brighter but I don't want to get anyones attention."

"That's so cool, why don't you show it off more?"

"I have the most boring powers, what's glowing in comparison to having perfect aim with a bow."

"Anyone with enough practice can learn to shoot a bow and arrow, don't think anyone can just try and suddenly glow in the dark." Will half smiled

"I guess." Nico glanced down, the light had revealed a scar on his forearm, he didn't want to panic but as he slowly turning his arm around more and more scars and cuts revealed themselves, most didn't look that old and they all looked very much self inflicted. How the Hades had he not noticed before? He thought back to every time he'd seen Will, he was always wearing a hoodie or some other sort of long sleeves. Fuck, he started to panic but managed to keep his expression calm, he knew he needed to say something but what the fuck was he going to say?

"I guess you think I'm a hypocrite now?"

"What?"

"Telling you to quit drugs and smoking yet here I am."

"Why haven't you gotten help?" Nico asked, being careful around the subject, he wasn't exactly sure how Will would react and was trying desperately to not make him mad.

"I'm not worth it, even if I was I don't have the time for it."

"Wil-"

"I've never been on a quest and I can't fight to save my life, I'm not worth helping."

"Without you all of camp would be dead."

"Clearly I'm not doing too good of a job, I've lost so many patients, more than Michael ever did."

"Two wars have happened, obviously more people are going to die after a war."

"He would ha-"

"No. No he couldn't, Will sometimes people die no matter what you do. If the fates decide it you can't save them, sometimes people are too close to death and no matter what you do you can't save them." He pulled him closer, pressing his lips to the taller boy's. "Everyone's worth saving Will, you told me that, so apply it to yourself." Nico ran his finger over Will's cuts, "And please, please tell me if you ever want to hurt yourself again. William, you're one of the nicest people I know, you care for people even if you know nothing about them, I've never even seen you get mad at someone, everyone would miss you."

"You haven't seen every part of me, you don't know how many people I've hurt. I hate myself."

"Will, you can't be perfect. Nobody's perfect, everyone has different sides. You're only human."

"But I hurt them, I was trying to hurt them and I did."

"What are you even talking about?" He said, pulling the cigarette out of his boyfriend's hand and taking a breath before getting rid of it, he knew he wasn't meant to but he needed it.

"When I first came out, people started to say stuff, it made me hate myself but I wouldn't fight them. That- that was until one time a group of Demeter kids were beating the living shit out of Kayla for being les so I... I sort of fought them... I broke a few jaws and arms until Annabeth stopped me. I don't regret it but- I shouldn't have hurt them, I'm a fucking healer I'm not meant to fucking hurt people."

"You did the right thing."

"I should have called it down, not made it worse."

"You stood up for your sister, that's nothing to feel bad for."

"I still shouldn't have hurt them."

"I would have killed them, you're did a lot better than I would have."

"I'm a fucking healer, and that wasn't the only time."

"You're a person, you're whole life isn't your power, you are a living, breathing, human being who sometimes does things that aren't perfect. I don't know who told you otherwise, tell me who hurt you, and let me make life hell for them."

"Don't do that, they don't deserve it."

"Look me straight in the face and tell me you wouldn't do the same if someone was in your position."

"I- but- they-"

"Will, you deserve to be happy just as much as everyone else, I don't know why you don't believe that."

"My own blood doesn't want me."

"What would you say if Leo said that?"

"But that's different, he's brave and smart and a genuinely amazing person. He's fought and his life's been hard, he's had to work so hard for everything."

"Apply that to yourself."

"I'm worthless, no one fucking wants me, not just my family."

"I want you. Will I want you and I love you no matter how much you hate yourself I will always love you."

"You'll get tired of me soon enough, they always do."

"I swear I won't, I swear on the river of Styx I will never stop loving you William."

"Why would yo-" His sentence was interrupted by a kiss, Nico wrapped his hands around his neck, Will smelt like smoke and strawberries, he was warm even in the cold night. He wiped a tear from his eyes,

"Just being honest, come on Sunshine." He whispered, pulling him up, they walked with each other inside the infirmary.

"Will, can you stay?"

"Course Neeks." He started to walk towards the chair

"Sleep, you need it." Will wanted to protest but his tiredness got the better of him so he slipped inside the bed next the the raven haired boy, kissing him on the forehead before they both fell asleep.

***

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raaorqtpbpdy · 3 months

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Haunting With Dinosaurs (0)

Danny is summoned by a powerful occult practitioner named Victor Veloci, who wants him to bring dinosaurs back to life. It sounds absurd, but Danny is bound to him and cannot refuse, even though he can't actually bring dinosaurs back to life. Instead, he merges the ghosts of five dinosaurs with the bodies of the five human sacrifices Veloci used to summon him, restoring them to life as dinosaur halfas. And that's only the beginning.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week, Day 4: Any Fandom Dino Squad | Element

Read it on AO3 also, Watch Dino Squad on Youtube it sucks (affectionate)

Danny is slightly aged up to be 18 and a recent high school graduate, also this is a ghost king Danny AU, and obviously Phantom Planet didn't happen, but other than that, no major changes have been made to DP lore in this fic.

As for Dino Squad, I've made some pretty significant changes, but they pretty much boil down to: This is a supernatural AU, so it won't have canon-typical Dino Squad made-up science. All other changes are explained in the actual fic as they come up.

I'm lowkey assuming that the majority of people who read this will not have seen Dino Squad, so I've made sure to describe all the DS elements a little more thoroughly than the DP elements so those of you who haven't seen Dino Squad can understand what's going on.

Prologue

Next Chapter

[Warning for death, coercive control, and semi-graphic violence]

Danny was getting real sick of summonings. He'd been warned that after he officially became the ghost king, more people would try to summon him, but if he'd known it would be this bad, he would have fought harder to abdicate the title.

At least back when he was just Danny Phantom, ghostly superhero, he would be summoned to girls' slumber parties right here in Amity Park. As the ghost king, he kept getting summoned by whack-jobs and cults on the other side of the world. Plus, whack-jobs and cults never wore skimpy pajamas or asked him to play truth or dare with them.

Being ghost king didn't have any perks.

Sometimes he could ignore a summons, if it was weak and he focused really hard on it, but not this time. This time, whoever was summoning him was powerful. The pull to answer was stronger than he'd ever felt before.

He could barely resist it long enough to rinse the toothpaste out of his mouth before he was forcibly torn through space and transformed into his ghost form, crown, ring, and all. Then he was floating in the center of a summoning circle.

Wherever he was now, it was dark, maybe a basement, or maybe a cave. He didn't hear any dripping water or echo, so probably a basement. The only light came from Danny himself and five dim, candles with green flames burning low. Normally that wouldn't bother Danny, who could see in the dark as if it was daylight, but something about this darkness was unnatural. Even he couldn't see through it.

It smelled like must and blood. So much blood he could taste it when he opened his mouth, and nearly gagged.

"Finally, I have you," a voice said. It was deep and slightly accented, although Danny couldn't place what it was. Almost British but not quite.

Danny swallowed and braced himself for the metallic taste in the air before he opened his mouth again to ask, "Who are you? Why did you summon me? And can you turn a light on?"

He squinted into the darkness, trying to make out the figure standing there The light he gave off revealed only silhouettes, but it looked like just one man, tall, with a dignified stance.

"I have spent centuries perfecting this ritual to summon you here and bind you to me," the man continued.

Then he spoke words in an ancient language. Not Latin. Older. Almost primeval.

Danny hissed as he felt a burning sensation wrap around his wrists. Through his gloves he could see a red glow circling them. It became brighter and hotter for a long minute, until finally, it faded.

"What is this?" Danny demanded harshly.

"A binding spell," the man responded, holding up his hand to show a faintly glowing red sigil on his palm. "You are now bound to me. You will come when I call; you will do my bidding. You belong to me, ghost king. You belong to Victor Veloci."

Danny backed away slowly, only to stop when he reached the edge of the summoning circle and hit a barrier.

The usual freaks never knew enough to actually keep him in the circle, let alone bind him to themselves. This guy was the real deal. He wasn't just another whack-job who got his hands on a summoning ritual; he actually knew what he was doing.

It had finally fully dawned on Danny that this was not his typical summoning. This was really, really bad.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, carefully keeping his voice steady.

"I want you to resurrect my friends," the man, Victor, said.

"You have friends?" Danny scoffed.

"I did." As he watched, Victor's eyes started to glow, amber with slitted pupils. Definitely not human. "And you're going to bring them back. All of them. So we can destroy humanity and return the world to the way it should be. When we were in our prime."

"Back when dinosaurs ruled the Earth, you mean?"

It was meant to be derisive, but Victor smiled, green light glinting off wickedly sharp teeth.

"Exactly."

One by one, the green candle flames finally burned out, and the oppressive, unnatural darkness faded away to regular darkness. Now that Danny could see again, all the cards were on the table. He knew where he was, what Victor looked like, and where that smell of blood was coming from.

A corpse laid on each of the five pentagram points. They looked like they were teenagers. A few years older than Danny had been when he'd gone ghost the first time. Probably still in high school, or they would have been if they weren't here, glassy-eyed and still sluggishly dipping blood.

Victor Veloci himself was a well-groomed man with long dark hair streaked with dark red. He wore a burgundy suit, and carried himself like a respectable businessman. If it weren't for the glowing yellow monster eyes, he could have had anyone fooled.

Danny was made to listen as Victor shared his story. It sounded ridiculous. A pair of velociraptors somehow surviving the extinction of the dinosaurs, developing immortality and the ability to transform into humans. But Victor clearly believed it. And after what he showed Danny, it was hard to deny.

He told Danny that, unlike the other velociraptor, he was always supernaturally gifted. He could see the ghosts of the other dinosaurs, even speak to them. They were angry. They wished to return. And he vowed to make that happen no matter how long it took.

"And now, finally, after millennia, I have you," Victor finished. "The king of death, bound to my will. Now, you will bring the dinosaurs back to life so that we may return the world to its rightful state."

"Yeah... that's not gonna happen," Danny said, less than apologetically.

"You must," Victor insisted.

He held up his palm and the sigil their glowed more brightly. At the same time, the marks around Danny's wrists glowed, but they didn't burn. If Danny were to hazard a guess, he'd say they could only make him do things he was actually capable of doing. So he wasn't in direct defiance of his new master's orders.

"Why isn't this working," Victor hissed.

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it, I said it's not gonna happen," Danny said. "I can bring people back from the dead, but I need blood, and flesh, and bone marrow. I need DNA. I can't bring back a ghost without anything remaining of their physical form, and I can't bring anything back from fossils either. Tough luck, man."

"So what can you do?" Victor growled.

Danny looked down at the mutilated teenagers beneath him.

"I can bring them back," he said.

"I don't care about them."

"I can bring them back and merge them with the ghosts of some of these dinosaurs you care so much about," he continued. "Sort of like an overshadowing situation. You know, possession kinda."

"Will they be able to take their true dino forms?"

"Sort of? They'll still be ghost dinos, but they'll be corporeal at least."

What Danny was proposing was basically bringing these teenagers back as halfas, except their ghost forms would be dinosaurs. Which, actually sounded pretty epic, honestly. He wasn't actually sure how, or even if it was going to work, but he had to do something for these kids, and he had to do it without directly defying this mad wizard. This was the best he could come up with.

"Your proposal is acceptable... for now," Victor said. "I shall call to the spirits of five dinosaurs for you to use."

He spoke again in that ancient language. Its guttural tones sending a shiver down Danny's spine. Ghost king or not, this stuff was creepy.

A moment later, a pteranodon swooped into the room, perching at the edge of the summoning circle.

Cautiously, Danny placed one hand on the pteranodon's beak, then knelt down to the nearest teen, a kid whose only recognizable feature at the moment was a bright green mohawk. It was hard to look at, so Danny closed his eyes. In his mind, he told the ghost to merge with the teen, ectoplasm mixing with blood as the teen healed and the dinosaur was locked inside them.

For a terrifying second, he just waited. If he'd been breathing, he would have held his breath.

Then, the teen started to breathe. They were still unconscious, but they were alive.

Danny sighed with relief.

"Did it work?" Victor asked.

"It worked," Danny confirmed. "I'm ready for the next one."

In truth, doing that just once had been pretty exhausting. Doing it five times would definitely push the limits of what Danny was capable of. He might even end up passing out and turning human again. And then where would he be? But it would be even more difficult the longer he let these kids rot. He had to try.

The next dinosaur Victor called was a stegosaurus, and Danny successfully merged it with a purple-haired boy wearing a shredded button-up and a tie. Then came the spinosaurus, which he merged with a redheaded girl in cargo pants. Then a T-Rex, which was terrifying, but merged with the boy in the bloodstained Letterman jacket without issue.

By the time the final dinosaur arrived—a styracosaurus, Veloci claimed, although it looked like a triceratops to Danny, not that he was a dino expert—Danny was exhausted. He wasn't sure if he would be able to pull it off one more time. Rather than using his authority to order the ghost, it felt more like begging this time. He was desperate. Almost completely drained of energy. If he didn't turn human after this it would be a miracle.

Much to his relief, he succeeded the fifth time too, merging the styracosaurus with the last teen, a large, African-American boy wearing a robotics club T-shirt.

Somehow, and it really must have been a miracle, Danny managed to stay in his ghost form.

"Alright, man, done," Danny said.

"I disagree," Victor denied. "There are millions of dinosaurs, and you're going to bring them all back."

"Not tonight I'm not," Danny argued. "I don't actually have unlimited power, you know. And doing this takes a lot out of me. It's gonna be a long time before I get enough energy back to do it again."

"How long? A century? Two?"

"Uh..."

Danny had been thinking more like a week, but this was a pleasant reminder that the man currently controlling him was apparently from prehistoric times.

"Yeah, maybe," Danny said, rather than correct him. "If we're lucky."

"I've waited this long," Victor said. "I promised. As long as it takes."

"Right just uh... don't kill anyone until I'm actually ready to resurrect them, okay?" Danny said. "The longer someone's been dead, the harder it is to bring them back."

"I make no promises," Victor replied. "You're dismissed for now, but don't go too far. I'll call you back when I need you."

He uttered one guttural word, and Danny felt the tense atmosphere around him break. Instinctively, he knew that he could now leave the circle, leave the basement, and he did. Though he swore to himself he'd come back to rescue those kids as soon as Victor left.

Until then, however, there was someone else he needed to find. According to Victor's story, there had been two velociraptors who survived extinction. And apparently, the other one lived in the same city.

#fic #dp #dp x dino squad #danny phantom #dino squad #dinosquad #crossover #dp crossover #crossover danuary week 2024 #crossover danuary week #haunting with dinosaurs #things i wrote #danny fenton #victor veloci

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coldgoldlazarus · 9 months

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Given how much I bent normal Lego building and euclidean space into a pretzel with these masks, would you believe me if I said the main purpose of this was just to fiddle with color palettes and placement? Rambling details below:

But yeah, test designs of a more MoL-esque take on the GWP System Matoran design

I figure a proper do of system Bionicle would at least still have custom mask molds, so that's part of why that's so fucky

(Also, apparently it turns out the ball pieces I used for the shoulders and legs are long discontinued by lego and not actually compatible with mixel joints, RIP)

(Like I figured these were physically unbuildable anyway because I quickly gave up on trying to make the masks align with conventional euclidean space, and the coloration of pieces reinforce that further, but the problem goes deeper than I realized ^^; Ah well, this is more an aesthetic exercise at the end of the day.)

Rule was everyone has a primary color, a secondary color, a translucent/glow color, a metallic color, and an eye color

And those can double up in function, it doesn't have to be a full palette of five, but still that idea

And then like, the layout of said colors differs based on team:

---

For the Metru, the metallic color doubled as the secondary color and the eye and glow colors were also the same, cutting the five down to three, but then of course some Metru Grey at the joints as a pseudo-tertiary. The primary Metru Elemental color as more of a baseline, with the metallic secondary given a fair bit of prominence in reflecting their LomN and turaga designs, and then the glow kept to like, accents with low surface area. (In a more full figure I'd want that as like, basically Tron lines to add just a bit of cyberpunk to the Art Deco/Alien Dieselpunk vibes of Metru Nui.)

Also hadn't gone fully off the rails with the masks yet, so Onewa's Komau and Matau's Mahiki are still pretty simple at least, and the rest aren't too egregious yet. Decided to integrate Nuju's scope as a toa into his noble Matatu design, but it's easily removable if I copy-paste that mask over to others.

---

The Mata are pretty obviously influenced by their G2 incarnations. Particularly the like, three-pairs of shared metallic colors, (Gali and Pohatu with Gunmetal, Onua and Tahu with Pearl Gold, and Kopaka and Lewa with HF's Flat Silver,) and the like, glow color being the secondary while the secondary was relegated to more of an accent role. I just really love the idea of these six being so powerful compared to typical Toa that it shines out through the seams in their armor. For G2's other faults, I think it was a success on the character design front. (Also added their metallic color to the toes for a more armored look.)

(Decided on pink for Pohatu instead of G2's lime on a whim, but I think it works. Pink bands in a canyon wall, the sunset over a desert, and his love for his friends and villagers.)

Still, also brought things back to their original selves as well, with the eye colors, the use of black as a tertiary the same way I used grey for the Metru, the original brighter shades of their main for Gali, Pohatu, and Lewa, and similarly bringing back lime and tan as the latter two's accents.

As for how the accents were handled, I kinda split the team into two groups of three there; Tahu, Gali, and Onua, where the accent is from their G2 sets and thus goes for more of a high-contrast vibe, I relegated to the small parts again, to stand out without standing out too much. Meanwhile, with Pohatu, Lewa, where I brought back their G1 colors that are more of a light-shade complement to their primary rather than a contrast against it, I let occupy bigger pieces on their limbs, swapping position with the primary on their arms, and with their metallic on the legs. I also applied this layout to Kopaka, despite sticking with the Metru Blue from his G2 design, both for an even team split, and because I felt it wouldn't feel as weird with more prominence due to contrasting with the primary by being darker than it instead of brighter.

I kinda went nuts with the masks lmao. I feel like the Pakari in particular is kinda my crowning achivement, but probably not worth having spent so much time on it alone yesterday, and frustrating because I ultimately can't build it IRL from all the clipping. Still kinda like the moleman/gas mask vibes of how the eyes turned out. (Also went back and changed the Hau and Kakama near the end, to align better with the rest.)

---

With the Mahri, I was originally going to do the same three-pairs setup with their metallics, but then wound up opting to make those all fully personalized again like the Metru. Their main trick there instead, is being all chrome colors. Idk if it entirely lands for all of them, (I have mixed feelings on Kongu's pink instead of sharing blue with Matoro per original plan, but I didn't want to double up on only two of them and leave the rest more scattered, and I was already too married to my choices for all them) but I kinda like how it turned out.

Instead, the three-pairs setup applied to their glow colors, which I pulled from their Inika forms; the Zamor spheres and the flashing lights on their weapons. The one case where adherence to this also feels like a mixed bag is Hewkii's red going with the green chrome I gave him, giving a bit of accidental christmas vibes instead of the copper patina look I was trying to invoke, but ah well. In general, focused their glow in the shoulders and legs, both as a reference to Jaller and Matoro's translucent Inika "bone" pieces, and as a midpoint between the Metru's subtler use and the Mata's prominence.

---

Also on that note, in comparison to the prior two teams, I averted using any tertiaries like black or grey, made the metallics the most minimal parts, and really emphasized their flat secondaries as secondaries instead of accents. Same as the Mata, I split them into two different layouts for that, (which wound up falling along the same lines, not intentionally but that's how it worked out) based on whether their elemental color or personal color was the darker/brighter of the two.

(On that note, mostly went back to their Matoran color schemes with the more exotic colors, though for Hahli and Jaller favored their Mahri color schemes instead, and tweaked Kongu's lime to be Apple Green instead. Those, and Hahli's mask, are the cases where I permitted myself to not force an even split among the team, for the sake of everyone looking best individually instead.) For all of them, the brighter color always went to the stripe on the chest, while the darker went to the hands and feet; mainly the arms and masks where they're different.

For the left-hand side, where their personal color was bright and their elemental color was very dark, I opted to downplay the personal a little more on the arms, since it was instead prominent on their masks. Hahli being the exception, because a big block of lime would not have been a good look, and I really wanted its brightness to pop out from the underlayer of her otherwise very dark colors.

Also like what I did with Nuparu, having his orange mask intact overall, but keeping the sort of "internal" area of the sidevents and eyes black for contrast, again a bit of that moleman look to go with his gremlin inventor personality.

Then the other side, where the personal color and the color on the mask was darker, I instead let the brighter elemental one take prominence on their arms and the back of the torso, which also just ties in nice with the original clean mctoran color layout. Not as much to really comment on with them.

Also, I played fast and loose with their eye colors, since those were always homogenized some amount in each of their incarnations but inconsistent across them, and I wanted to maintain everyone having their own separate eye colors like the other two teams. (And the eyes being different from the glow color like the Mata.)

So Jaller now has dark blue and Kongu has azure; Hewkii's supposed to be apple green, (though as with Whenua, I had to use the same color as Onua's dark green, since this was the only green glow shade aside from lime that didn't just look washed out and/or too blue) while Nuparu is lime, since he alone was mostly pretty consistent in that. Hahli got red for her later Barbarian arc, while Matoro got a softer orange, both for contrast with the frosty blues of Nuju and Kopaka, and just cozy vibes to match his kinder personality.

---

So, yeah. Clearly a good use of the past two and a half days lmao.

May also do Takua and the Chronicler's Company, the Disk Metrutoran, and maybe even the Voya Nui resistance team at some point? Though for now, need to focus on other stuff I'd been distracted from by this.

#not a reblog #bionicle #bonkle #bonkles

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shelbgrey · 10 months

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Dating Eleazar Denali Headcanons

Paring: Cullen!Reader X Eleazar Denali

Summary: just some dating headcanons for my favorite Spanish vampire from Alaska

Warrings: there's a few NSFW headcanons in here so be aware.

🩵Eleazar denali series 🩵twilight master list

Your the newest addition to the family, you joined around the 90s (in the twilight timeline). With you being the newest member you and the Denalis didn't interact as much.

After Carmen cheated on Eleazar with Demetri, he moved to Forks with Tayna, Kate, and Irina in tow.

Then he saw you again for the first time in a while. I think the two of you always knew there was a connection or mate bond but never acted upon it due to obviously reasons.

He spent his entire first week at Forks talking to you and during that time he fell harder for you.

You couldn't help but fall for his charm, he just knew how to make you blush.

When Your 'brother' carlisle found out he was pissed, the family has never seen him that angry. He's very protective of you and when he heard the Eleazar was your mate he punched him.

“stay away from her”

Esme has to pull him away and talk some since into him. “they're mates... And they're happy”

Him and Eleazar made up and Carlisle spent over two weeks apologizing for his actions. It's all water under the bridge because Eleazar understood where he was coming from and carlisle knew Eleazar would treat you like a queen.

“I love her”

“I know you do”

Your engaged by the time Bella shows up. To put it delicately she the reason your wedding kept getting put off. James, birthday gone wrong, newborn army, ya know 'normal' stuff.

You got married after the newborn army problem ended. “yeah you think we could get married now? Just a thought”

Eleazar secretly gets really tired of the Bella and Edward drama, so he made sure you got your wedding first. You guys have been waiting too long.

He loves your eyes, especially when you were human. He loves how innocent and soft they looked, they're so gentle.

I wouldn't say Eleazar is a prude but he's definitely uptight and is the serious one out of his coven, but you bring out a softer and brighter side in him. He loves how you can make him laugh and being him out of his comfort zone.

You can always make him laugh, no matter what. He's the serious one in the relationship and your the bubbly one.

Tayna calls you the golden retriever of your relationship and Eleazar is the black cat.

Your the only one who can call him Eli... Maybe Tayna but other than that your the only one who gets the pleasure to do so. “she's the only one who can call me that that”

It's the small things that matter most. He loves dancing with you to your favorite songs. It brings a softer side to your guys chaoic lives.

He never was much of a dancer before meeting you though, but you changed that. It first it was just to mess around because you were bored, but then you both found out how much you loved it.

“I don't dance Love”

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arms around him. “you do know”

He leaves love notes every where for you to find, sometimes it will be on your mirror, sometimes in the book your reading at the time, no matter what your always finding his sweet messages.

'If I were to kiss you and then go to hell I would, so then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without even entering it.'

You guys love watching old monster movies together.

You learned he paces when he's nervous or aggravated. He'll move back and forth in your room at lighting speed somethings, mumbling Spanish. If he gets real aggravated he'll rant in English and slowly bleed into Spanish.

With jobs its simple, when he moved to Forks he became the Spanish teacher at Forks High, your doctor like Carlisle.

He didn't relize how touch starved he was till he met you. At first touching and contact wasn't really on the top of his list of needs(him and Carmen didn't touch much) but when you started dating he couldn't keep his hands to himself, he always has to be holding your hand or if your sitting on the couch or something your head is on his shoulder or chest.

You guys are family people, you have this mother vibe to you(Emmett says your like the second mom to them) so when the whole new-born delema happened Eleazar convinced Felix to spare Bree Tanner. You two adopted her and became the parents she never had.

If you met and and married before your transformation you two would have twins, the birth wasn't dramatic like Bella's and you made it threw with smooth sailing after Eleazar terned you.

From the beginning Carlisle was gonna turn you. When you first joined the family you were human, but when you met Eleazar you decide it would be him that would turn you.

Anyway, your twins are a boy and a girl(hybrids of course). Your daughter is gifted, it kinda mirrors Eleazar's ability to see what gift a vampire has. Instead of reading them she copy's them. She found out one day when she was holding Kate's hand then shocked Emmett by accident.

“your daughter is a copy cat” Eleazar smiled proudly. “yeah no shit” Emmett said rubbing his arm.

Your son doesn't have any special powers expect being incredibly fast, faster than Edward even.

Your daughter is an exact copy of Eleazar and your son is a copy of you.

Your really close to Tayna and Kate. They are both like little sisters to you. You and Irina are not as close but you got each other's backs.

Of corse you'd never trust Irina again after she went to the vulturi about the Twins and Renesmee.

The girls were over the moon when Eleazar told them about you and in the beginning of your relationship he was always going to the girls for advice.

He's so afraid of losing you, your the best thing that's ever happened to him and he doesn't want to screw it up. Of course he doesn't have to worry about that.

Your always resuring him that your always gonna be by his side. With that I think he's secretary insecure, he's never really had anyone drool over him like girls do Carlisle or Garrett, so your always telling him how handsome he is.

“have I told you how handsome you are?”

He smiled softly. “Yes dear, like a million times”

He just the same, he makes sure your the only woman he sees. Your truly the most beautifulest woman he's ever layed eyes on. “your so beautiful”

He's very protective of you, he not a violent person in the slightest but if someone caused you harm he'll tear the world down.

He doesn't let anyone talk down towrds you or about you. He's the type to either put the fear of God in them or if it was a friend they won't be on speaking terms anymore.

He'd never admit it or talk about it to someone, but he's a cuddler. If your still human your curled up to his chest sleeping like a baby, he'll have his arms around you all night and intill your wake up.

If your in the living room watching a movie with the family your head is on his shoulder or in his lap.

He'll watch anything that interestes you at the time. He likes supernatural and he'll watch Greys Anatomy on an ocation, being friends with Carlisle for centuries you learn alot of medical stuff, so he knows when somethings wrong in the show.

He's definitely a 'yes dear' when it comes to things, not in a bad way or anything. It boils down to that he'll do anything for you.

He's a rough but passionate kisser. He pours all his love and emotions into it, he makes sure your the only one on this earth he wants to love.

NSFW headcanons:

Eleazar has this mischievous kind of charm to him and he uses it to his advantage when it comes to getting your attention. He knows all your ticks and can easily get your riled up.

And it's definitely not one sided. Eleazar would consider himself calm and collected... Serious even, but you know how to get him riled up as well. Like I said before he became a touch person after meeting you. Sometimes all you have to do is Trail your hand down his chest or rub the inside of his thigh. When you push the right buttons he'll pull you towrds your room and you'll be in there for hours tangled in each other.

“darling... Don't start anything you can't finish”

He tries his hardest to be romantic all the time, during sex especially. He wants you to know just how much he loves and adores you.

He's a soft Dom and he always makes sure your comfortable. He loves to take control in the bed but would never push you.

Your pace all depends on your moods honestly. Usually it's slow and loving, everything moves so quickly in his life so it's nice to just savor moments like this. But if you get him riled up or push the right buttons that switch will be flipped in seconds.

Your small compared to him so he loves to have you in his lap, holding you when you make love.

Speaking of which, he refuses to refer sex as 'fucking', he thinks is degrading towrds you so it's 'making love' in his vocabulary.

He loves hearing you moan. If you try to hold back or even muffle them when it's unnecessary, he'd put an end to it. “please don't hold back Love, let me hear you”

He definitely has a Praise kink, he loves making you feel loved and appreciated. He love how he can easily make you blush. “your so Beautiful”

He found out very quickly how much it makes you blush. He took it as more sweet and innocent than sexual.

Small choking kink when you get him in the right mood, he'd never do anything to hurt you so this is a very rare occasion during sex, especially if your still human.

Loves eating you out,your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

Lots of broken furniture(Esme has about had it). Usually it's broken headbords on your beds. There's always gonna be a dent where his hand grabed in attempt not to hurt you.

He's not very vocal, unless he's praising you. maybe some groans here and there, he'd rather hear all the sweet noise coming from you.

Eleazar is a god when it comes to aftercare. He'll knows exactly what you need and gets it. He'll make sure your comfortable and cleaned up then hold you in his arms.

#Eleazar denali x reader #Eleazar denali #Eleazar denali imagines #Twilight headcanons #Twilight imagines #Eleazar #Twilight Eleazar #Denali coven #Denali family #Tayna denali #Kate denali #Irina denali #Twilight Gerett #Twilight x reader #Cullens #Cullen family x reader

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demigod-of-the-agni · 2 years

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"You're Glowing Today"

I remembered that humans do actually glow. No, not in infrared waves, but in the actual visible light spectrum. You are literally glowing, moreso in the afternoon than at any other time of day. Mostly it's due to how the human body's metabolism works, how efficiently it's working at, and what time of the day our metabolism is most active at. If you think about it, the way you glow can reflect your physical and emotional health.

Unfortunately for us, we can't see ourselves glow; the light we emit is more than 1000x times weaker than what our eyes are accustomed to see. The only kind of glowing humans can see amongst ourselves is the red flush you see on others' faces after a full day workout in the sun.

But obviously, like a few animals on our own planet, there are alien species out there who've adapted to pick up on ultra-weak light rays. Reasons mostly being their homeworld is extremely dark, their source of nourishment emits some kind of electromagnetic wave, etc., etc. Venturing into the galaxy and beyond required them to build equipment that could filter out excessive input from other worlds and species, so they're hardly seen without sensory-dampeners.

One day, while on a mission with hir crew on a planet known for its impenetrable darkness, this light-sensitive species takes off hir gear designed to limit light input. Hir crewmates appear perfectly normal, save for their light-sensitive goggles. Except--

--now the human is glowing.

The alien is confused, at best. Ze quickly alerts everyone of the glowing human, who themselves are very confused; they didn't know humans remotely had the ability to glow.

With this new peculiar piece of information out in the open, the crew continues their mission. They make it back home, rest for a while, complete a few more missions, go through some drills. All is well; they forget they have a bioluminescent teammate with them.

That is, until the human gets sick. Space-faring is not a typical human activity, after all.

The light-sensitive species occasionally checks up on the human to make sure they're alright. The infirmary is pleasantly dark and quiet, with the sensory-dampening settings turned up to improve the human's rate of healing, but the light-sensitive can see just fine. Ze also notice that the human is glowing a lot brighter than before, typically around the forehead, eyes and nose.

Shortly after the human recovers, their glow lessens considerably.

After that, ze make note of the fluctuations in the humans bioluminescence. It's comparatively brighter during majority of the day, and dims a few hours before they sleep. Sickness, sorrow and grief are reflected by dull, slow beats of light, whereas shock and happiness are presented in rapid glimmering swirls.

The light-sensitive thinks one particular pattern -- the one where the glow ripples across the human's skin in gentle waves whenever the crew comes together -- is perhaps the most beautiful of them all.

#humans are space orcs #i hope this is okay and that no one else has done this lmao #just letting you know you're glowing today #and that this idea was a BRIGHT one #oh god why is this so long #mywriting

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caramel-whiskeys-writing · 1 year

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Red Dead Redemption Preference: When You Make Them Blush

Red Dead Masterlist

Arthur

Arthur isn't one to fall into the whole love thing and he does find it hard to show any emotions to do with love. So when you gently come up to him and kiss his cheek he finds it very sweet of you, but the fact that you did it in front of some of the gang makes him lightly blush.

Obviously, the others noticed this as you were giggling and leaning on his shoulder smiling at him. He looked down and when Bill said he had a blush on, it only got brighter. Yes, the others laughed at him, but your light chuckles coming from his side made him feel less embarrassed. For the rest of that week, Arthur went out of his way to make you blush nearly every day in front of the gang, mainly when you were trying to act strong and serious.

Dutch

He's never afraid to show that he loves you and wants to be around you while at camp, so the gang was always used to him having you placed right next to him. Many times through the day you would gently kiss him and that never seemed to get him to blush or hide his face.

One day though you wanted to just hold hands with him as you sat by the campfire. As you slipped your hand into his, he looked away from you and the others at the fire. You didn't know why until you pulled his face back around to kiss him. His face was beet red and a slight smile was on his face. You knew that he was very passionate and that it was likely you'd never be able to make him blush, but I guess holding hands with him was his weak spot. Let's just say you did this a lot afterwards.

John

The day was coming to an end, John happened to land a job down in Saint Denis. He was going to be prepending as a rich man who was looking for some art and possibly some shares in a local oil or mine company, which at this point was pretty much everyone in Saint Denis. John had finally gotten into his suit that Trelawney had bought for him and he was about to head out.

Before he could get into the carriage you quickly ran out from Shady Belle and up to him. You chatted with him and Hosea for a bit before you noticed that he had a large wrinkle in his suit and that his tie wasn't straight. You gently flattened the wrinkle and adjusted his tie before you looked back up at him. You quickly noticed the huge blush on John's face and you teased him a bit about it before you gave him a kiss on the cheek and waved him goodbye.

Sean

It had been a rough few days for the whole gang as they had just moved to a new camp, but now it was finally time to have a nice late summer party. Everyone was having a great time laughing with bottles of beer or whiskey in hand. Javier playing music, Hosea telling one of his stories, plus a fight that seemed to have started between Sean and Charles. Soon enough most people were standing there watching the two drunk idiots try and land punches on each other but failing miserably. Soon enough though Sean landed a good hit to the gut and that gave a chance for Charles to hit Sean right in the face causing a cut to form on his cheek. After that Sean quickly gave up on the fight and Miss Grimshaw scolded both for being stupid.

You noticed Sean sitting where he normally sleeps trying to stop the bleeding Charles caused. You walked over to your stupid lover and sat down beside him. He tried acting tough around you, but you told him to shut up and grabbed a bandana that was laying around. You rolled it up and placed it over the over his wound. Sean blushed lightly as you normally talk a lot more with him and he also wasn't used to someone taking care of him like you do. Any time he's hurt you always help him and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid to hurt himself even more than he already was. This always gets a blush out of him and normally some gentle hugs as well.

Any Requests?

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tomjamesavery · 23 days

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A Night at the Club (Part One) Written for the Ginnyversary Bingo Challenge: #G57 — “But this is the only thing that's made the last three years bearable." Read on: AO3 Harry felt truly alive as the club's speakers blasted deafening music in his ears, the floor shaking under the heavy bass. It was one am on a Saturday evening, Ron, Seamus, and Dean had managed to convince him to accompany them to a newly opened nightclub in central London. And he had happily accepted since days like these were the only thing that had made the last three years bearable. Harry normally wasn’t the going out type, if he did, he preferred it to be with his close mates, so they at least had a good time.

And tonight they were having one hell of a good time. The bright lights flashed, red interchanging with purple, and Harry felt like he was gliding, his feet wildly moving on their own accord. He was slightly tipsy, which made his movements a bit sluggish, but his senses were still sharp, his mind clear and wary.

His eyes scanned the club, he was on the dance floor, Ron not too far from him, a glass of bright red liquid in his right hand, as he was dancing with a blonde girl Harry didn’t know, his left hand up in the air. He was clearly enjoying himself, Harry knew that he was still pining after Hermione, but she would come around one day, Harry was sure of that, so right now the light distraction was good for his best mate.

He found Seamus and Dean madly snogging in a corner of the Club and only shook his head, unable to hide the smile crossing his features, those two… they just couldn’t keep their hands off each other no matter where they were, it was adorable.

Harry was abruptly thrown from his thoughts as an obviously drunk bloke crashed into him, almost making him tumble. He just about caught himself, swiftly spinning around to face the man, but the guy had already disappeared into the crowd of dancing people again. Harry only shook his head, taking a long swig from his beer, and the room lit up as he felt the cool liquid breathe more life into him. His eyes now wide open he fell back into the rhythm of the blaring music, resonating with the quick beat of the pop-hip hop track. He hadn’t expected how much he needed this.

He danced on his own, not caring how he looked to the others, simply closing his eyes as he lifted his hands high, breathing in the vibe around him, this was his night, something about this evening was special. He listened to his heart as it seemingly beat to the sound of the music around him.

A strange heat surrounded him, he was the centre of the world, floating through open space, as suddenly an electric current shot through him, now feeling goose flesh on his skin his eyes snapped open. And he was blinded.

A burning flame before him, a thousand shades of red, brighter than the sun on a summer day. The club, the people, the lights were gone, it was only her. She had her eyes closed, as she moved with the music, a mere two inches from him, a short green dress framing her body perfectly, her skin flushed and glistening from the heat of the air.

His mind was blank as he watched her, and his body took over. She was dancing with him, no one else near them. And he fell into her pull, her every step, every move resonating through him. Her energy controlled him, and as she opened those eyes of deep brown, long lashes framing the almond shapes, they moved closer, swinging their bodies in uni-sense, slow circles, the world was folded around the two of them. This was their night, their moment.

Her lips curled mischievously, the deep brown orbs disappearing behind dark cloaks again as her hands came up to his, slowly moving over his arms, the sensation of her touch making him levitate. He felt her heartbeat, as his eyes fell shut as well. Beats in quick succession, speeding up with the sound of the music that moved the two of them. He felt her hip on his as her hands landed on his shoulders, he was hers.

A quick spin, swift steps, and he was clutching her waist, feeling her hot breath on his chest. They continued to dance, as he felt the soft fabric of her dress under his palms, endless moments of bliss, they yearned for each other, bodies moving closer. Her hands now tightly clutching the shirt on his back, he felt her nails on his back and it made his skin burn in desire.

They moved like this for many minutes, it might have been hours, and Harry felt like he had known this woman for his entire life, this connection between them, it was like his soul yearned for hers, his body living on her warmth. He finally decided to open his eyes again, the club now lit brightly, he took in her blinding beauty, that hair so red, the wildest forest fire could not compare, those freckles on her milky skin, those long lashes.

His mouth went dry, and his movements slowed down, she already was his everything. She must’ve felt something change with him, and her eyes snapped open, brown pools of chocolate. But suddenly her lips parted, surprise crossing her flushed face.

“Harry?”

#hinny #harry potter fanfiction #ginny weasley #harry potter #harry x ginny #ginny lovers #fluff #nightclub #post war hinny

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chuuyajacksonsfedora · 1 year

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Care to Dance?

The Ink black pen scribbled viciously against the paper as Chuuya tried to finish the reports of his and Dazai's last mission. Why was he doing the reports that he and that bandage wasting bastard were meant to work together on you may ask? Well the only reason he ever does anything for Dazai of course! ...he lost a bet. But that damned bet was rigged from the start and the worst part is that Chuuya knew it. Despite always knowing Dazai's true intentions he never fails to run into the brunette's twisted schemes head on. Chuuya should really just accept the karma of the situation and finish this last report.

" Chuuya~!"

At the sound of that disgusting ear rape excuse of a voice Chuuya couldn't help but grip the pen tighter and cringe.

" That damned mackerel," The ginger gritted his teeth in utter annoyance.

" As I can see, you're happier than ever to see me. Though you see me almost everyday it never ceases to amaze me how your eyes glisten with passion whenever I come into your field of vision." Dazai seethed as if he were a spilled barrel and toxic acid was spilling from that shit talking hole he calls a mouth.

" Annoying prick!" Chuuya screamed as he launched the pen he was gripping across the room as if it were a bullet.

Dazai easily dodged the pen causing it to pierce the wall behind him.

" Ah, ah, ah, Chibi~! That's not how you greet your partner after he walked all the way across the hall just to deliver a special message." That waste of space sang in a cheery voice.

" Just get to the fuckin' point, I don't got all day." The shorter male huffed.

" As you wish, we have another mission." Dazai hummed emotionlessly.

" Haah!?!?" Chuuya slammed his fist on the table.

" Well come on then, slug. 'We don't got all day'." Dazai mimicked.

Chuuya wanted to punch this boy through three walls and he very well could. But the boss's orders are absolute.

︻デ═一 ......✿ڿڰۣ—...... 一═デ︻

During the car ride Dazai and Chuuya poked and swatted and bickered with one another. Chuuya was normally angry with the social outcast but today he was especially furious. The bet consisted of how many people they could get to buy them drinks. Chuuya was openly gay after finding his true sexuality during his first encounter with intercourse. Let's just say that Dazai pawned him into agreeing to sleeping together on the condition that he let Chuuya top first. So obviously Chuuya was hitting on guys. Some rejected him but most didn't. Dazai on the other hand surprised Chuuya in how easily he could switch the roles and get women to buy him drinks. Chuuya was soon losing by a landslide and was about to give up when a young man came and sat next to him at the bar. The young gentleman had golden waves of above shoulder length hair and emerald eyes that shone brighter than emeralds themselves. His lightly sun kissed skin all but glowed under the dim light of the bar. Chuuya remembers the moment vividly.

" You look pretty young." The boy that seemed to light up the bar hummed.

" Speak for yourself." Chuuya looked him up and down, seeing that he couldn't be any older than himself.

" Ooh, you got me there." He laughed. Man, his laugh was heavenly. " So then tell me, stranger. How old are you? Surely not old enough to be sitting in this bar right now."

" You caught me I guess." Chuuya smiled as if he couldn't help it. " likely around your age."

" Around my age?" The boy grinned.

" I'm a man of secrets, what can I say?" Chuuya shrugged.

The boy covered his mouth with his hand as he laughed into his palm. " You're quite the comedian."

" Really?" The orange haired males eyes glistened.

" Man you're adorable. Do you not get compliments like that often?"

No, no Chuuya didn't. And that one compliment left Chuuya smitten.

" No, I don't." Chuuya muttered honestly.

" My name is Aurél, and who might you be Mr. Mysterious?" Aurel's smile glowed brighter than the brightest of stars.

" Chuuya, my name is Chuuya." Chuuya was lost in a trance as he stared into those beautiful eyes.

" Chuuya you say? Quite a unique name! But it suits you. It reflects how unique of a person you are." Aurel's gaze was soothing...gentle even.

" How can you tell?" Chuuya's eyes twinkled.

" I can always tell. Just as I can tell that, who I hope is your friend, is giving us a death stare." Despite Aurel's declaration his gaze remained soft.

Chuuya was pulled out of his trance with a raise of his own brow as he turned to see Dazai glaring at them. Aurel specifically.

" Dazai?" Chuuya was puzzled.

" I need to see you in the bathroom for a moment?" Dazai's undertone screamed malice and anger.

" Yeah, yeah, in a moment jackass." Chuuya growled.

" I wasn't asking." If Dazai's glare was already cold then now it turned to dry ice.

Chuuya's eye widened as he got up without another word and walked to the bathroom.

After waiting a while the push door opened revealing the tacky bastard.

" So what'd you want, Dazai?" Chuuya asked.

" Nothing really." Dazai's eyes held something deep within but Chuuya couldn't put a finger on it.

" Huh?" After a moment of silence Chuuya 'tsked' and walked out of the bathroom.

When Chuuya made it back to the bar counter Aurel was gone.

" Damn it." Chuuya hissed as he looked around the bar but still the boy was nowhere to be seen.

With a sigh Chuuya walked out to the alley for a smoke. With the faint yellow burn of his lighter he could see something sticking out of the dumpster. Assuming that it was a trash bag he walked over and slightly opened the lid to push in the bag but...it wasn't a bag.

Rage coursed through Chuuya's veins as he screeched louder than a banshee.

" DAAAAAZZZZAAAAAIIIIIIII!!!!!!!"

" You'll have to walk the rest of the way from here in order to ambush them." Chuuya heard the chauffeur say as the vehicle came to a stop.

Without a word Dazai opened the door and got out as Chuuya said a small 'thank you'.

No matter how Chuuya tried to ignore the feeling of raw anger it still wouldn't go away. By now Chuuya should know that he can never keep the people he cares about. And he didn't even know Aurel long enough to care about him anyway. But what if he did get to know Aurel? What could have happened between them. Would they be great friends or something more? Chuuya has always been hung on the idea of what could have been and right now was no different.

" Walk faster! Man you really are a slug!" Dazai whined as he bounced along up ahead.

Chuuya just kept quiet and walked a little faster. maybe he could take out all his anger on the organization that they had to wipe out.

︻デ═一 ......✿ڿڰۣ—...... 一═デ︻

Soon the two mafiosos arrived at a clearing in the woods. A small shed sat in the center of the clearing. That very shed was assumed to be the entrance to the secret base. One way in, one way out. Insufficient really.

" I'll go first." Chuuya said as he floated a foot off the ground and walked on the air as he made his way to the shed.

There didn't seem to be any traps set so Chuuya raised his hand as if to signal to dazai that it was all good. Once successfully inside the base two guards ambushed them in the narrow hallway.

" Only two? You guys must be low on staff." Dazai laughed.

" Only kids? The port mafia must be desperate for guys." One of the guards sneered.

" Yes! We hire kids! Do you want us to put up flyers?" Chuuya yelled as he used the back wall to propel himself at the guard who insulted them, punching his square in the jaw.

Chuuya then spun around and roundhouse kicked the other guard. Chuuya moved so fast that the guards couldn't even process their thoughts fast enough to shoot him.

" Let's go!" Chuuya yelled after Dazai as he ran down another corridor.

Dazai watched as Chuuya made these guys drop like flies. He always thought Chuuya was beautiful. Sure Dazai called women beautiful all the time but Chuuya's beauty was far different. Never has dazai ever seen a woman as ethereal as Chuuya. This small boy with the ugly hat held beauty that not even the gods possessed. Dazai thought that Chuuya's imperfections were exactly what made him so perfect. He was so perfectly human. It doesn't matter what all the truth and facts tell Dazai, Chuuya is human. More human than himself. And Dazai is human after all, but Chuuya was far more human than any human in this world. His loyalty and emotions held no bounds. His intention was always written on his sleeve.

Dazai always loved to sit back as Chuuya released all hell on those that stood in his way. The red of his ability reflecting the anger and ambition within him. Not to mention his Chuuya's eyes...Dazai didn't have things like 'favorites'...that was before Chuuya. The day Dazai and Chuuya met. Oh, Dazai won't forget the way those icy blue eyes glared down at him. Ever since that day Dazai's favorite color was blue. Blue was the color of the sky, the color of sorrow, the color of sapphires... and the color of Chuuya's eyes.

" Done day dreaming, Mackerel?" Chuuya yelled.

Dazai was ripped from his thoughts by that disgustingly mesmerizing voice.

As the two made eye contact it was like lava and the ocean came together. As if a demon and an angel connected for the first time. Like fire grazing the petals of a bluebell flower. Then it was as if a bomb went off. No literally.

The explosion killed all of the remaining men and the blast caused Chuuya fly into a wall. As the smoke from the blast began to clear two large doors opened and out of the smoke stepped a tall man that glowed dark green.

" Did you think our agency would go down so easily?" The man asked.

" I did, actually." Chuuya was down on one knee as his face seemed to cloud over. Chuuya's grin was plain sadistic. " But I was hoping that wouldn't be the case!" With that Chuuya lunged forward ready to punch the man in the gut but his fist was stopped.

" Wha-"

Chuuya groaned as he was visibly hit with some sort of invisible force that seemed to taze him.

Dazai didn't even think. He knew where this was going. The man was going to do the same thing that all measly wanna be gangsters do. Hurt Chuuya and threaten Dazai for information. Dazai wipped out his hidden pistol and shot the man three times in the head. He then ran and caught Chuuya in his arms.

" As much as I love to watch you suffer I don't like seeing you get hurt for nothing." Dazai whispered.

" Bastard..." Chuuya muttered in a small daze.

" Come on, Chuuya~. Our job isn't done." Dazai sang.

The two made their way down the next hallway to see a shrilling sight. The hall led to what seemed to be a conference room but in that room was a meeting. What's so scary about that? It was how they seemed unfazed. And the fact that three men hung on the wall as if they were decoration. The members in the meeting turned to see Chuuya and Dazai.

" Kill them." Said who Dazai assumed to be the head of the meeting.

Immediately bullets and chairs were flying. Not to mention that the knife that Chuuya rarely used was making heads role. These guys came off as all that but really, they suck. They were also a horrible shot. Dazai dodged their bullets with ease and soon all the men were dead. Now all the duo needed was the info they had on other organizations.

Chuuya followed behind Dazai as he made his way around the underground hideout. Soon they came upon a small room. In the room was a radio and some equipment. Dazai let out a hum as he picked up the radio. He had an idea.

" Follow me, tiny." Dazai said.

" Who're you calling tiny damn it! I'm still growing!" Chuuya protested. Even so he followed right behind.

Dazai kicked the door to the conference room back open and pushed what remained of the table out of the way.

" The hell are you up to, Vagabond?" Chuuya asked.

Ignoring him Dazai continued with his work. Setting up the radio he soon reached a convienent station and grinned to himself. Soon the radio started to hum with life and a song began,

♫'To cut down on my silhouette, My favorite foods are smoke and hearts, My leftovers fret, forget stiletto self-vendettas, While my cracking backbone lacks but backs up my false starts,'♫

" Care to dance?" Dazai turned around to face Chuuya.

" What the fuck are you going on about, Dazai?" Chuuya's facial expression contradicted his words as a light pink dusted his cheeks.

Dazai just grabbed Chuuya's hands. With one of Chuuya's hands on Dazai's shoulder and the other with his fingers laced with Dazai's they came together in a waltz. The two boys danced over dead bodies and pools of blood. The smell of gunpowder and fresh blood bitterly filled their senses to a point where they could almost taste it. Soon that smell turned into malodorous flesh. Even so the partners continued to dance. A sickeningly sweet dance of the dead. Or dancing among the dead to keep it in better terms.

" You seem a little more fed up with me than usual." Dazai spoke with interest.

" You're the smartest and stupidest person I know." Chuuya sighed.

" I'll take that as a compliment." Dazai muttered.

" A compliment..." Chuuya remembered. " Why'd you have to kill him. Why did you have to kill Aurel?"

" What makes you think that I killed him?" Dazai frowned. He wasn't fooling around, it was a real question.

" I know that it's something a sick bastard like you would pull. But why to him?" Chuuya looked almost as if he would burst into tears.

" I predicted that he would take you away from me. I watched as he made you smile and laugh in ways that I never could. And he did it all in the first few moments of meeting you too. And for you to mourn his death as if you've known him for years? I couldn't stand it. I still can't stand it. I knew that you would get to know him. The two of you would have become good friends and I wouldn't doubt for a second that you two would become more. I saw a connection with the two of you and I could only dream to be in his place. Now he's dead and I'm dancing with you." Dazai's eyes weren't empty. A hint of jealousy could be seen within the embers.

" Well you didn't have to kill him." Chuuya glared.

" Who's to say that you two wouldn't find each other again?" Dazai said.

" What are you trying to say?" Chuuya's glare could make any grown adult wince.

" I hate you, Chuuya. My anger angled towards you is endless. I can't stand you giving your attention to anybody that isn't me. Whenever you smile at someone or let them touch you it makes me feel a strange adrenaline that comes with the urge to kill them. The urge to leave you with no choice other than to be mine." Dazai was dead serious.

" Dazai...insane piece of shit. Such a sick bastard." Chuuya's eyes widened as if they weren't dancing like a newly wed couple over dead corpses.

" Sick? Yes, that's another way I feel about you. I get this sick feeling whenever I touch you. It makes me want to see you laying beneath me begging. Or in my arms crying. I want to be there to witness all the human emotions you have to offer. I want to hear how raw your voice sounds after you've screamed my name far too many times to count. I want your body in my hands and your lips on mine. But then I also want to watch you fail again and again all because I know that you'll keep going just because you don't know when to stop." Dazai babbled on and on about some insane shit but all Chuuya was hearing was,

" I love you so much, it's unhealthy."

" You love me?" Dazai blinked as if none of this was real.

" Do you love me?" Chuuya asked.

" No, you're a man. This strange feeling is nothing but pure hate. Though this is the most emotion I've ever felt..." Dazai's eyes sparkled as he had the urge to bite those light pink lips.

" Then I hate you too, Osamu." Chuuya glared. But this glare held pure desire.

A desire that matched Dazai's. A sick twisted desire that had them clawing at each other's clothes. A desire that had bitter metallic tasting blood running down Chuuya's bottom lip. Blood red was always a beautiful color on Chuuya. Instantly one hand was tangled painfully in the orange locks, the other gripped Chuuya's ass. Dazai left a trail of bright red marks down Chuuya's neck. All Chuuya could do was cling to the brunette and writhe under the sucking pressure over his pulse point.

" Want me inside you?" Dazai asked out of breath.

" More than you know." The ginger was already out of breath.

That was all Dazai needed before he began jerking Chuuya off. The rough feeling of Dazai's hands as he thumbed Chuuya's slit had the ginger's eye rolling back in pleasure. The brunette leaned down and took Chuuya's cock into his throat as if it were his last meal.

" Dazai!" Chuuya gasped.

When Chuuya was close he pulled his mouth off of him and started to pump his dick at a fast pace. Multiple strings of a soft white substance started to paint Dazai's palm and Chuuya squirmed and gripped Dazai's wrist as he was milked of his cum.

" This is our lube so relax, Chuuya." Dazai's fingers prodded at Chuuya's entrance and he felt a shiver down his spine.

Dazai started with two fingers to speed the process but soon four fingers were inside of the petite mafia.

" Hurry the fuck up, bastard." Chuuya sighed as the fingers that massaged his prostate were pulled out of him soon replaced with Dazai's dick.

Chuuya hissed at the pleasurable pain as the thick cock intruded his tight walls. After a moment Dazai started off slow and gradually began to speed his pace. It didn't take long for the sound of skin meeting skin and the sound of groans and the occasional moan to fill the room. The tight squeeze of Chuuya around Dazai was one of the many feelings that drove him crazy. He wanted everything the ginger had to give. He wanted to own every part of his body. He wanted to do everything in his power to make him his. Dazai's thrusts quickened in pace as Chuuya's nails raked down his back. Nobody but himself and Chuuya would see those marks. As for Chuuya...Dazai wanted everyone to see who owned the little dog. Chuuya was his and he would dispose of whoever said otherwise.

" You asshole! I need you to-ngghh~!" Chuuya moaned out as his prostate was hit head on.

" Need what, Chuuya~?" Dazai grinned.

" Do that again!" Chuuya cut his own words off with a gasp of ecstasy before he continued. " But do it faster. I want you to bend me 'til I break."

" As you wish," Almost taking it litteraly, Dazai threw both of Chuuya's legs over his shoulders and leaned forward creating the perfect angle to hammer into Chuuya's sweet spot.

" Holy fuck!" Chuuya screamed out as his grip on Dazai tightened along with his insides.

Dazai groaned at that and went faster, chasing after his release. Chuuya was clearly almost there with how he tensed and moaned. Just a few more perfectly angled thrusts. One, two, Chuuya had his nails dug into Dazai's shoulder as he threw his head back and mumbled shit that even Dazai couldn't make out. Then,

" Osamu, I-!" A broken and unrestrained moan ripped from Chuuya's throat.

" The sound of your voice makes me get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. You disgust me." Dazai insulted the chibi though he knew exactly what Chuuya was trying to say and he was right behind him.

Then Chuuya was pulling Dazai into a sloppy and violent kiss as ropes of hot sperm painted their chests. Dazai on the other hand released inside of the small ginger.

Dazai started to leave more marks on Chuuya during the after glow and beamed at him,

" I hate you so much that it's unnecessary." Dazai kissed the bloody bite mark he left on Chuuya's shoulder.

" I hate you to an extent that I won't kill you all because I want to watch you suffer." Chuuya smiled.

#soukoku #chuuya nakahara #dazai smut #chuuya smut #dazai #dazai osamu #oneshot #chuuya #hate #smut #gore #dance #dancing #port mafia #bsd #bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs

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