#real power is chapping someone's lips

[mitsies]

❊ ikea kitchenettes & everything in between - aki hayakawa . . aki's going to break your new oven before you get a chance to use it.

warnings: very suggestive because let's bffr that's what we all want

men are too proud for their own good, you think. and to your misfortune, your fiancé is no exception.

beep. beep. beep.

the sound of buttons being furiously smashed picks up, to the point where you can hear it from beyond the shiny new kitchen island. it's a new apartment, full of shiny new appliances, which clearly are causing the love of your life a fair amount of strife.

from your position slouched onto the pillows on the floor (a substitute for a couch, before yours comes in) you can see silky black hair, a little bit creased by the hair tie that usually holds it in place, and hands carding through dark locks in frustration. you have to bite your lip to hold back a smile.

"everything good back there, aki?"

at your voice, his full face pops out from above the kitchen island. amber kitchen light shines dimly from bulbs yet to be replaced. he looks disgruntled, to say the least. you can't hide your amused expression when he states, "i think the oven is broken."

"but it's brand new?"

he sighs and places his hands on his hips. "they must've given us a defective one."

you're more than skeptical. he's more than certain. with a sigh, you rise from your seat on the make-shift couch and walk to the opposite side of the kitchen island, leaning over it to see what he was doing. a tray of vegetables sits on the middle rack of an unlit oven, and the screen on the side reads blank.

"it's fine. i'll figure something out; finish your reports," he says, watching as you come over to the oven's side and bend to check it out. you turn to him. "no, don't worry. this won't take long."

it's with great amusement that you press the big, obvious, glowing white 'power' button on the side of the oven's interface which illuminates the inside and turns it on. and it's with even greater amusement that you watch aki's face go so, so sour, as if he's just taken a bite of the biggest lemon set to be roasted on the tray.

"yeah," you muse, standing back up, "i think it's broken too."

you can't help the laughter that escapes your throat at his expression. you allow yourself to lean into his side as his eyes are narrowed and fixed onto the fully functional oven. wordlessly, his arm moves to accommodate you with an arm loosely draped around your waist. a natural reflex, at this point.

"i'm sure you'd have figured it out eventually." aki finally looks at you, breath ghosting your forehead.

"mhm. you knew all along. do you enjoy messing with me? watching me struggle?"

"what— hey!"

it's weird, to think about how a little over a year ago, you'd never even considered being here, in this position. if you told past-you that only six seasons in the future, you and your work crush would be a couple, living in a new apartment, with a new oven, and a kitchen so empty but somehow so, so full of love, you'd never believe it. if someone told you that the aki hayakawa would be comfortable enough to hold you so close, to plant a ginger kiss on your forehead like he's doing now, to joke around with you, to smile with all his teeth around you, you would laugh.

but that was then, and this is now. and this— this is real.

his lips are warm, if a little chapped, as they plant a gentle kiss to your forehead. his hold on your waist tightens, just a little, but enough to make you wish your bed was fully assembled. what you do have, though...

you beam at him. "how long will those vegetables take?"

he glances at the oven. "root vegetables'll take maybe 25 minutes. why?"

your smile gets bigger. "that's enough time for me."

"time for what?"

you don't answer, opting to take his hand and pull him to the empty space outside the kitchen that should be a living room. well, empty save for a stack of papers and a set of very big, very soft pillows.

his face goes red. "no. you have paperwork to do. i have dinner to make."

but his grip on your hand tightens. and you know him well enough to be able to tell that he's hiding a tiny little smile.

"it's our apartment. our rules. and i want you to kiss me."

men are too proud for their own good. and even though aki is no exception, you find that his resolve is easily destroyed— only when it comes to you.

flowers chosen: sunflowers (small and tall) & yarrow . . adoration, haughtiness, and everlasting love

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

#aki hayakawa x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki x reader #hayakawa aki #csm aki #aki #hayakawa aki x reader #chainsaw man #csm fanfic #aki fluff #chainsaw man fluff #chainsaw man fic #reader insert #mitsies 5k

[eyedelater]

noda-sensei's art peculiarities

(links are carefully selected example images from golden kamuy)

incredibly skilled with the human form; even difficult poses are rendered perfectly. (does he make everyone naked just to show off?)

babies are Not cute. they're ugly with puffy eyes and always look sleepy and disgusted.

clearly hates drawing teeth and the inside of mouths. notably just leaves the inside of mouths white most of the time. sometimes draws rough teeth, sometimes draws detailed teeth, sometimes implies teeth with shading, sometimes fills it in grey— it's not consistent at all. i think i've deduced that what he hates the most is calculating the position of teeth in the mouth.

despite the above point, he seems to always draw sofia's teeth because her tooth gap is an important part of her character design

sometimes zooms in and draws details (especially on hands) then zooms out and you can tell because now the line weight is a little different

3/4 view from behind (1/4 view?) of people's faces where you just see the funny bumps of their lips. and it always works

big round sweat drips that often have Texture and Shading.

incredibly skilled at drawing animals, even notoriously difficult ones like horses. though most of the animals die. especially horses.

amount of sparkle in the eyes is meaningful. more sparkle indicates the lightness of their spirit, and no sparkle indicates coldness or jadedness. best/worst example is reinvigorated tsukishima. asirpa is of course also a critical example. and i think ogata's eyes never have any sparkle his whole life.

he can draw wrinkles in the places where they would normally go on someone's face, and he can do it well. or he can decide to draw Other lines on someone's face, in any spot, and if someone questions it, the answer is that they're just like that, and you have to accept it. i really like this "they're just like that" approach to character design, and there are many examples in golden kamuy (e.g. ariko's square irises and pupils, ushiyama's forehead plate, tsukishima's nose)

really good at drawing the way strands of hair wrap over the top of someone's head. (look at tsurumi, ogata, hijikata)

he'll draw chapped lips that'll make your own lips feel real dry.

mouths are often shaped like that... but it works

eyes are usually black, but sometimes a character's pupils will get really small during moments of high tension and you can see their iris and it's light

this is just a hunch but i think he prefers drawing men over women

judicious use of lines going up from the corners of the mouth

he's not a coward: if a character's chest is exposed and the angle is right, he will draw that character's nipples, and that is right and just. he will apply the same principle to draw a character's butthole, which i don't have such a strong opinion about.

there are lots of men with very close-cut hair (bc it's the military) and that's not distinctive, so he gets creative with the hairlines. i think this is an underrated aspect of character design.

careful use of line weight on the corners of closed mouths has a powerful effect (of cuteness?) (look out for this next time you read the manga. it's everywhere and it's the best.)

consistently skillful use of ink splatter effects for blood; similar splattery effects used for snow

eyebrows and other facial hair are usually drawn as multiple long, thin lines together, and for an eyebrow with emotion, you put a couple of perpendicular lines at one end or both

strands of blood or hair extend and curl around in unrealistic ways for dramatic effect. this effect is omnipresent.

occasional really, really choice faces that were obviously drawn either from photo reference or while looking in a mirror

character design by actually giving everyone different facial features, as opposed to character design by assigning different hair and accessories to uniformly pretty people. the latter is much easier, but he chose the thorny path of his own will! thank you for setting a strong example, noda-sensei!

#golden kamuy #noda satoru #golden kamuy spoilers #i didn't bring you an example of noda-sensei drawing the butthole but look when they're all getting out of the outdoor bath

[moumouton4]

I just remembered an Idea I had a while ago for Shigaraki!

How about reader either is or used to be a chiropractor, but Shigaraki is unaware of this.

One day she goes up and hugs him from behind and he relaxed and melts into her because he is touched starved and he's happy that reader is showing him love.

And then she just realigns his spine with a loud series of cracks and she is like "Your back was crooked"

Fluffy please!

A Healing Hug || Tomura Shigaraki x chiropractor!reader

Alternative title : Opposites attract each other

A/n : Thank you for your request dear it never cease to make my day. 🌹🥐 I don't know if you've seen the genius move you made by pairing those two together 👀

Warning : touching, established relationship, also my chiropractic vocabulary may not be on point for a real chiroprator 😂

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Words count : 1517

It had been several evenings since you returned to the lov's HQ and noticed the strange way he walked. Swaying from one leg to the other, you would think he was drunk when he was too tired to hide it. But not to your expert eye.

Who you were well a villain to some, a hero to others. You thought of yourself more as an avenging hero, so you carried yourself in the eyes of the people as a vigilante.

You used your quirk in two different ways, the power of electromagnetism to heal people and your ability to see weak points to know how to hit where it would destabilize your opponent the most.

But you weren't always a vigilante. In fact, you were originally destined for a great future - away from the bad guys' organizations. You had studied medicine, or at least started to, before finally joining Stain in his fight against false heroes hungry for fame and glory. However, you were so interested in the field that for a while you continued to learn on your own, specializing in chiropractic.

Your current level was almost at the level of a D.C.M. ( Doctor of Chiropractic Medicine ). That is to say, when you saw someone in bad shape, you knew it right away.

Anyway, you had just arrived in the HQ of the lov. You took off your coat and greeted your comrades, ruffled Toga's hair and nodded to Dabi. The way the latter always answered you in the same way, did not fail to amaze your comrades, but you were one of the only people he appreciated tolerated.

You looked around the room, looking for your boyfriend, Tomura Shigaraki. But unfortunately he was nowhere to be seen, as usual. So you shrugged, telling yourself that you'd better go get something to eat while waiting for him to come from wherever the hell he was.

And just as you predicted, at least two hours after your arrival and while you were chatting with Twice, you saw Tomura coming from the hallway towards the bar, where he sat on a stool.

Seeing him so distant was a habit for you and you understood that he had a hard time with relationships but knowing how much he didn't let go of you once he had you in his arms you decided to make it easy for him and always make the first move towards him. That's who you were, always ready to help, you owed him that much, he had so much else to think about.

That's why you gently cut short your discussion with Twice before getting up and joining Shigaraki at the edge. Well, you back hugged him. He let out a gasp of surprise as the pink rose to his cheeks before you loosened your grip on him, knowing that he didn't like pda in public.

When he turned to you to greet you he saw a slight frown on your face "Why are you sulking ?" you quickly hid it with a smile and answered "Naaah it's nothing I just missed you today that's all"

This time he was the one making a face, he squinted his eyes at you as if he was scanning you before a creepy smile appeared on his chapped lips ( he wasn't used to smile that much before knowing you ).

"Oh. Okay. Well I missed you too" he said simply.

But he was right you did frown, of course you frowned because as you held him you felt the abnormal stiffness of his back against your chest. And now with your alter activated you could clearly see the bright purple dots of tension scattered across his spine. "It must be painful" you thought, making a mental note to take him by the hand and give him a hand

...

It's finally after the evening meal that you found yourself alone in the common room of the lov with Tomura... alone. You smiled like a cheshire cat before calling him and asking him to come with you. You were on one of the dirty and dingy couches in the HQ.

"Yeah ? What do you want ?" he asked but to his surprise you didn't answer and simply stood up facing him. Making you remember that he was much taller than you. You tried to walk around him and stand behind his back but he turned as you did "What are you playing at ?"

"Please just lemme..." and with this he stopped and let you do whatever the hell you wanted to- "Mpff" a series of loud series of pops stopped his train of thought as a gasp of surprise and relaxation came from his mouth.

For a moment he didn't move, a little shocked at what had just happened while you had a big smile on your face happy to have - partially - unlocked his back. Shigaraki was also extremely happy that there was no one else in the room, as he felt his body relax in your embrace. His back problems melted with the warmth of your body against his and your arms that had come around his waist so that your hands could put pressure on his stomach and chest. He didn't know that at that moment you were using your electromagnetism alter in order to use a Bio Energetic Synchronization Technique that transferred some of it into his body to relax him.

"Are you okay ?" you asked.

"I think... What was that-" another series of loud cracks cut him off this time realigning his spine once and for all. The change of state between the comfort and warmth he felt in your arms and the pops that brought him out of his trance was so sudden that he couldn't help but jump like this cat in front of a cucumber you swore you heard him hiss

"What did you do to me ?!?"

You rolled your eyes at his scandalized tone "Your back was crooked. It bothered me" you replied smiling sweetly but it only intensified his annoyance.

"Answer the damn question !"

"I just did cavitation by applying pressure to your spine to force out the nitrogen gas that occurs in a spinal joint when vertebral surfaces are separated to create a vacuum-" your voice died as you watched the look of distress and incomprehension he sent you.

"Ugh I just cracked your back. Move around you'll see it's better"

He looked at you with round eyes before making an experimental move, before a slight smile appeared on his face. There was no more blockage, thanks to you. On your side you scanned his body with your eyes looking for other points of tension but he seemed to be fine for the moment.

"Thanks I guess" he said rubbing the back of his neck blushing and avoiding your gaze a little focusing on the tiled floor as you looked at him. But he was quick to come to his senses and asked "But how did you know ?"

"I started medical school..." you told him the whole story of your adventures in school. You gradually moved towards the couch to sit on it to be more comfortable to talk."And that's how I got my chiropractor's degree but as you know I could never pass the license""And that's how I acquired the chiropractor level but as you know I could never pass the license" "And that's how I acquired the chiropractor level but I never got to pass the license. I think you know why then" you finished you story chuckling.

As your story unfolds you scooted closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder and his head on yours. One of his legs was draped between yours. 

"And you want to pass this license ?" he asked in a calm but yet serious voice.

That's when you raised your head to look at him that you saw his look of determination. The look that belonged to the great leader of the League of Villains, your boyfriend Tomura Shigaraki, the same one who was willing to do anything if it contributed to your happiness.

"Well yes, that will be the acknowledgement of my studies-"

"Consider that you can pass it then. I'll tell you where and when a little later.

Your eyes filled with stars like mini galaxies as you gazed up at him. Before hugging him tightly and nuzzling your face in his chest.

Of course he was going to do everything in his power to get you certified in chiropractic. Your hands had been blessed with grace and given the ability to heal people while his had been cursed with the power to turn everything he touched into dust.

And just as you were starting to feel sleepy from your fights of the day that you heard Tomura chuckle lowly.

"What is it Tomura ?"

"Nothing I just thought opposites attract each other"

So you put your hand over the back of his and gently caressed it "You're right and I couldn't have been happier"

~

~

A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🥪🎮 Again my requests are open 🛎⚡

Taglist : @foxxymunson, @cl0vr, @ilovemanypeople, @glossy1pearl, @jane57sstuff

#my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #tomura shogaraki #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki fluff #tomura shigaraki x reader fluff #tenko shimura #tenko shimura x reader #tenko shimura fluff #tenko shimura x reader fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha fics #bnha fics #mha x reader #bnha x reader #fluff #miri-writes #my hero academia imagine #boku no hero academia imagine

[kursedmayo]

Story time. I think Donnie would also hate most lipbalm. They're so fucking greasy on the lips and good lord, I would rather feel the pain of dry ass lips than have it plump and moisturized but feeling like I just put cooking oil on, so with the power of headcanon on my side I'm inflicting this annoyance to him too.

I bet he takes like an obscene amount of time researching on lip products before realizing that there's no guarantee that they'll help all too much because he's half-turtle, his skin is different than a human's, which eventually compels him to go on a sort of lip care pilgrimage trying out all sorts of lip balm, like a lot of them. A LOT of them. He jots down the results in a fun little spreadsheet before he manages to narrow down to one brand which happens to be from a smaller, more ethical company than the rest. Even if that brand was much more expensive than others, its not as if he didn't have money that he stole to spend on quality products, so he managed to put his cracked lip woes to rest.

Unfortunately for him however, his brothers keep stealing from him so he barely even get to use the stuff he buys.

Mikey's the biggest culprit of this of course, he's one hell of a yapster (/pos ofc I love Mikey) his lips dry out easily, and he doesn't usually carry a lip balm with him (because he forgets to/keep losing them/keep eating them) so sometimes he just swipes on those bad boys off Donnie's pouch and he doesn't even notice and well, its not as if Donnie wants to take it back anyways. Its already got his lil bro's cooties all over it.

Meanwhile, Leo mostly just steals for funsies. He doesn't even use the ones he steals from Donnie, He's got like, a whole stash of flavored lip balms because he's the face man, he doesn't want chapped lips it'll ruin his gorgeous face! Anyways he gets a whole different bunch in case he loses one (which he never does) and keep buying some until he amassed a whole ass collection (which Mikey also steals from, not that Leo minds). He doesn't need to steal Donnie's, but its REAL fun to figure out how to. He'd literally figure out a whole ass 8 step plan in his head and even learn new tricks with his portals because Donnie literally had to resort to locking his lip balms up in a multi-password protected vault, only to end up not even using the damn stolen things because like Donnie, ew his twin's cooties.

Donnie's extra offended because of that cuz like, at least use the damn thing like Mikey does you heathen he paid 15 dollars for a tube!!

Anyways, since Donnie's no pushover he schemed to get revenge on Leo and begun to steal his chapsticks too, much to Leo's (hypocrital) annoyance and amusement, so now there's an unspoken war that's happening in the Hamato household at the moment which they both refuse to back down on.

Meanwhile, Raph's at the corner just shaking his head in exhasperation. He doesn't really care much about lip balms in the first place because he didn't really use those, but Donnie got disturbed seeing him walking around with El Niño on his lips one winter and begrudgingly gave him one to use, which Raph does use but only sparingly so he doesn't run out, though it's not like he doesn't have money to buy his own cuz he does off jobs in the hidden city then and again. Also he kinda gave up trying to stop the disaster twins from fighting over lip balm because they're gonna keep doing it anyways, so he kinda just kinda tune them out when something inevitably explodes in Donnies lab and Leo comes out running holding a lil tube. Mikey gets let off the hook though, lil bro priveledges you know?

So yeah.

Even if there's a huge L in Leonardo there's still two Ls in Donatello. He's gonna be having PTSD flashbacks whenever someone mentions chapsticks near him for sure.

#text #kursed rambles #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #rottmnt headcanons #man i love making shit up

[allthingsozara]

Dukrem, Dragon of Akone’li

Part 1

Rain. It was always rain. Too far south to get real snow, the beginning of winter in the valleys surrounding the Ridge began with rain, cold and perpetually on a diagonal it made travel, well, bleak.

Dukrem stood ankle deep in the muck, their pony tied beneath a shrivelled tree. A dilapidated building that, on a good day, could pass for a farmhouse crouched at the end of the path. He had promised too much to be here, and the weight of what he was going to do clung heavy at his hip. They lit their pipe and let a small flicker of flame from their lips, water falling forward off the brim of his hat.

Starting the slog uphill, they ran over the details. His hunt for information had led him from Na’kell all the way to Akone’li, hunting a human who. Who was seen taking his sister. Lost in the city’s Warrens, he had overheard about someone who could divine things, Kaj the Weaver.

Out of options, they went to her, despite not having much money left. This was their only lead.

Cracked lips and stained fingers had whispered their way over his map, illuminated by only a recycled shaft of sunlight that managed to fall this deep and into Kaj’s tent.

“Just around the hills yes, the old farm. He tries to master death, the necromancer. Failing. Haran, he has your sister.”

Dukrem nodded, rubbing at their beard. His mind had already begun planning. What supplies were needed, how long would it take to get there?

“Thank you, Weaver,” he moved to stand, “I can assu-“ Something slammed them back into his seat.

“Leaving with an open tab, Dukrem Ma’kina?” Her chapped lips smiled wryly, the corners almost touching the tattered veil she wore. The Weaver slid something long and heavy across the scarred table. A simple pearllock pistol and a pouch of dragon pearls, ammo. The pearls formed in a dragon’s mouth from built up grit, hardened into glass that kept the power of the flame. Enchanters had created a pattern of runes that, with impact, could project that energy.

“Your payment is simple. Take the gun, Ma’kina. Kill Haran and return here.”

Dukrem looked at the gun, “That’s all? It seems too simple.”

“This is what you need to know.” Kaj the Weaver extended one tattooed hand. “Shake on it, Ma’kina.”

When they hesitated, the sunbeam flickered and their hand moved to shake of its own accord.

“Good. Now take the gun.”

#original story #original fiction #fantasy writing #more to be added #writer things #writing

[maullworkers]

bodhi bishop kol 1962-1988

content warnings; abuse, pain (mental and physical), death.

bodhi kol didn’t have a good life. 

he knew more about pain, suffering and heartache than anything else. he was familiar with the feeling of fear, the constricting feeling of a panic attack, and how it felt for a closed hand to collide with his body more than any other sensation.

his skin was dry from dehydration as he cried more than he cared to admit, his lips were chapped as he nervously bit them more than he opened them to talk, and his nails were chewed down to almost nothing as not a moment went by without his anxiety threatening to take control.

he never received love from another human, not really. he knew about the power of hatred, he knew how easy it was for those around him to mistreat him, and he was born knowing and constantly being reminded of just how weak he was. 

bodhi was born into a world of hurt, and he lived in that world every day of his very, very short life. 

not a day went by where bodhi was able to live freely. they endured too much trauma far too young, there was no coming back from it, that they always knew. 

they walked their way across the country when they finally got the guts to leave, and with each step there was a dark cloud overhead. that cloud never left them; they couldn’t believe they hadn’t drowned in the downpour before they reached the age of twenty-six.

bodhi was paranoid, understandably. he never experienced a single moment where he trusted someone without things going sour. he was sure he wasn’t naive, sure he was calculated and careful, but the pain of others’ actions found him without issue. every single time. 

bodhi had no hope in others.

he didn’t believe in kindness, he didn’t believe in love, he didn’t believe in selflessness and he believed with his entire heart that the world was cruel and that things would never turn around. he had been beaten down both physically and mentally, but somehow… bodhi always got back up. 

the world showed it’s most ugly side to bodhi, never giving them relief or a change in scenery. they never made it to the grass that was greener on the other side, no matter how far they walked from their hometown in texas, but bodhi kept going.

they thought of themself as a weak person, an easy target - they must have been, right? with how many bad situations they ended up in, with how many terrible things they went through. 

but bodhi wasn’t weak. no one who was weak could have made it through every single one of those hardships. 

well, almost every single one. 

bodhi had no reason to wake up and feel grateful for doing so; bodhi had no reason to power on and power through; had bodhi been anyone else, he likely would have given up such a long time ago, but bodhi was a powerhouse of strength and an anomaly of a human being. 

bodhi was so kind, bodhi was so beautiful. not once did he ever do something to hurt another, not once did he ever act in anger, spite, resentment, hatred. bodhi might have had more reason than anyone else to be turned into the worst version of himself, but that never happened. 

instead, he was gentle, and proof of that was in every single one of his touches. bodhi was selfless, bodhi was softness.

raised on a farm, they spent their days treating the animals exactly like how he always wished his caregivers would treat him. he rescued the runts of the litters, taking them in as if they were children of his own, he spoke softly to the mother cows as they groaned in discomfort, carrying their calves to full term, he fed the stray kittens rations out of his own, no matter how little he had, and he woke bright and early every single morning so that he could get his chores done before the roosters sung the rest of the farm awake. 

bodhi spent his days giving, protecting, caring for and bonding with his animals. leaving the farm was the most selfish thing he ever did in his entire life, and bodhi felt guilt over that - as if he hadn’t been protecting himself from a very real death.

bodhi had no idea where to go. he wasn’t sure how to move on, but no matter what he just kept moving forward. forget strong, bodhi was so unbelievably resilient. 

they had no home, no plan, no resources or belongings other than the clothes on their back. they should have been defeated, but they never succumbed to their past or their pain. 

they left a trail of unbelievable warmth. every place they went, they assisted, they improved, they touched in a very meaningful way. bodhi was changing the world, one rescued raccoon and duckling safely guided across the road at a time. 

shrike heights was a funny place. 

bodhi stumbled into it nearly ten years after he left the farm, and something about it made him feel the same belonging that he felt back there. both places were as good as warzones, but bodhi found his place and his unbelievable optimism that shone through in the care he gave animals came out so strongly once again. 

lapaws was a funny place.

it was far from the farm, but bodhi did the exact same work. he fed the emaciated dogs that had been found in the streets downtown, he soothed the mother cat giving birth to her first litter of kittens, he diligently cared for the possum that was rundown by a car and he took in the lizard that a sticky fingered arcade kid left behind. 

bodhi might not have had connections with other humans, but he built connections with so many of the creatures in shrike heights, and he found it so easy to stay because of that. 

the killers were scary, but bodhi lived their entire life plagued by seemingly inhuman attackers. their threat didn’t scare them any more than any person walking by did. with their luck they were surprised they never found themself attacked by the killers sooner, but oh how they wished they could have stuck around in shrike heights for a little longer, when their time to be reminded of pain finally did come.

bodhi himself wouldn’t have thought he did anything for anyone in the final moments of his life. he hadn’t even realised how hard he tried, and he never would get the chance to have that revelation. 

he only acted as he always did, in a way that was kind to others, good to others. he continued to never treat anyone how he had always been treated, and he continued to try to help, assist, protect and care for. 

he recognised desi’s loss, and he tried his hardest to console the man, no matter how badly authority figures scared him. 

he recognised scott’s panic, and he tried his hardest to soothe him, no matter how many panic attacks he had had to face alone. 

he recognised soren’s pain, and he tried his hardest to protect her, no matter how many times he had been hurt and left vulnerable. 

bodhi was a light, even in the mall that suffered a power outage. 

but bodhi was also a lost cause.

at least in his final moment, he got to look up and finally see past that dark rain cloud that had previously always loomed overhead. it was clear skies, where bodhi was going, and as he had that revelation suddenly nothing hurt him anymore.

#abuse tw #pain tw #death tw

[cassianwithamessybun]

Bonded part #2

Part two yay! I really thought this was going to take me longer to write but my brain keeps telling me to not do my homework and write instead. this is a romance so I am going to attempt to write smut. Don’t worry there is none in this chapter but I am just warning you that it could be horrible. Anyway thanks for reading!

Again sorry about the typos if you spot any. My eyes are a little tired tonight.

Elain

“No.” a gasp escaped her chapped lips sucking in a harsh rush of air. 

Elain’s body dripped with cold sweat as she lurched up from her pillows.

She wanted to curse at the Mother for making her subject to yet another vision.

One of the many things she had missed about her mortal body: her mind hadn’t been corroded but the Mother.

Swords and bonds flashed through her mind as one particular image refused to be forgotten.

She knew Koschei was acquiring his freedom but thought it would always be out of his reach. It seemed the mother had been watching him closely as she filled Elain’s mind with unseen visions.

Beron had what he needed to free Koschei, he just didn’t know it yet. Elain, once again, controlled by the mothers bidding, had to make sure he never got the chance.

She needed to pay a visit to Autumn.

-

Elain waited in the hall of the town house, her foot tapping the floor in impatience as She waited for Lucien to react.

displeasure curled in the pit of her stomach when a full minute of silence passed by.

She didn’t have time for this. 

“I would be fake of course,” she clarified and Lucien seemed to blink back into reality.

A real marriage was laughable between them at this point.

“What?”

Thank the cauldron he got his lips to work. She was starting to question if his muteness would be a good quality for his position as emissary. 

“If we pretend to be married I assume your mother will want us to pay a visit. It won't look suspicious.”

Lucien nodded and attempted to drag his fingers through his braided hair but got caught on the weaving.

Elain wondered if someone had done it or if he himself knew how to braid his own hair.  

She could never braid her own and always let Nesta’s skilled fingers weave together the strands.

But Nesta was gone, living up in the illyrian mountains with Cassian for the time being. Though it wasn’t just her physical separation that hurt Elain so badly. When Nesta gave up her power she also gave up only something only the two of them shared. A pain they could weather together.

Though, Elain didn’t think Nesta wanted to help her. Not out of malice, just ignorance. 

Elain blew out an agitated breath and swallowed up the useless emotions that would do nothing to accomplish what the Mother intended. 

“I need to go to Autumn,” she said simply. “If we work together we can both get what we want.

“Elain.” he shook his head. “It is dangerous in Autumn, especially now.”

“Yes, I know,” she bit out, her annoyance getting the better of her. “I am capable of handling myself.” Cocking his head to the side in an almost animalistic way he questioned, “you are trained in combat?”

Elain shook her head and offered no further explanation.

He stared at her for a moment too long allowing her to see the desperation in his eyes, not for her, she knew, but for traveling to Autumn. 

“Why do you need to visit Autumn?” he took a step closer causing Elain to strain her neck slightly to meet his eyes.

“I won’t wonder about your motives if you do not ask about mine.” He considered for a moment but Elain could see the exact shift in his eyes when he finally nodded.

“We leave tomorrow.”

-

Elain told Feyre where she was going and though her younger sister protested she could not prevent her from venturing out to Autumn.

She finished packing her bag and stiffened as she felt his presence outside the door. She would be fine. It was only for a few days and it was what the Mother wanted, she reminded herself.

A knock sounded at the door and Elain slowly stepped over to open it. breathing in slowly, she attempted to only take in oxygen that was sure to calm her down. 

Lucien’s broad chest was the first thing she made eye contact with as she pulled open the door. His height never ceased to amaze her. Tall people always intimidated her but she somehow never felt that with him

she blamed the bond for making her more attracted to him than nervous.

“Come in,” she opened the door wide enough that they had a few feet separating them.

She allowed her eyes to linger over his well fitted clothes for only a moment before pulling away.

He took his time as well, trailing his eyes over her dress and hair. She had attempted a braid but her arms began to hurt from holding them up for so long. She eventually accepted defeat and stuck a few pins in her waves. 

“I have something.” Elain watched Lucien search through his pocket as a wave of anxiety shot through the bond.

They were never friends, never enemies, never lovers, never anything. This would likely be the most amount of time she had spent with him. It was her own fault of course.

She batted away her own nerves and attempted to plaster a light smile on her face as he held something out to her.

It took her a moment to take in the delicate gold band adorned with a diamond glimmering with the rays of the brightest sun.

The beautiful simplicity stole the breath from her.

It was so different from Grayson’s. She could still feel the iron band of hatred wrapped around her finger.

“It was my mothers.” a shaky breath escaped his lungs as he handed it to Elain and she slipped it on her finger. “I figured it would make this more convincing.”

Elain nodded and ogled at the ring a moment longer before saying, “It’s beautiful.”

A tiny pulse of joy plucked at her heart and she dampened it out, refusing to let his feelings distract her.

“We will need to stop at an inn first.” Lucien strode over to grab her bag. “I need to check on something before we enter Autumn.”

-

They arrived at midday. Courtesy of Lucien’s winnowing.

Though he had left her hours ago to ‘go check on something.’

Elain didn’t care as long as it didn’t delay her plans. 

As the sun dipped into the ground Elain sat atop her bed reviewing her plan. She didn’t want to sleep. if she did The Mother was likely to give her another harrowing dream about Eris Vanserra.

So every time exhaustion pulled at her eyelids she forced them back open.

She heard Lucien return, shutting the door softly.

“You're still awake,” he noted a frown attached to his face as he headed over to his bed on the other side of the room.

When they first got here Elain immediately claimed the one next to the window. Waking up to rays of sun dancing on her skin was the one thing she refused to give up in any situation. Not even the Mother could take that from her.

“I couldn’t sleep.” even as she said the words her blinks turned heavy, laden with fatigue.

He gazed at her and her tired eyes could do nothing but peer back at him.

“There was one last thing before we go,” Lucien began, and Elain nodded as he stood, taking a step closer to her. 

“Mates usually have a combined scent because of the mating frenzy and all.”

Elain felt slightly flushed at his suggestion but understood what needed to be done.

“I was thinking…” he trailed off tugging off his shirt and Elain could nothing but gape at the golden skin and lean muscle now bared to her.

She blamed her brain which was currently half asleep. 

Pushing herself off the edge of the bed, she walked over to Lucien, gripped his shoulders and hauled his mouth to hers.

For a moment there was only the warmth of Lucian’s mouth as Elain slanted her lips over his.

Elain’s brain finally turned on, tugging her back to reality. She made to pull away but strong hands encircled her waist pulling her against a hard, unyielding chest. 

The moment Lucien responded, he was enveloping Elain fully with his hands, his mouth, his tongue–

Elain moaned, unable to restrain herself. 

Her hands roved over his chest desperate to touch all of him as he plunged his tongue into her mouth.

He devoured her, thrusting his tongue between her lips, eliciting a gasp from her bruised mouth.

 She met him stroke for stroke as he continued his assault of her lips. 

Elain could feel the bond between them glow with an unbending force that had her skittering back.

Elain pulled away from him, her body buzzing with new found energy to attack her mate once again with her lips. To push him onto the bed and—

“I was going to suggest you wear my shirt to bed.” his heavy breaths slurred his words together. 

Elain’s lips thinned as embarrassment ate at her skin, making her already flushed face deepen in red.

She dared a look over at him, hoping this wouldn’t hinder their plans.

“I’m sorry. I–

“Don’t be,” he interrupted a teasing note in his voice. “Anytime you need my lips El, they are yours. Just tell me which body part—

“O Cauldron,” she muttered, covering up her face with her hands. “There is no need to be crude.”

“I’m not being crude, just honest.” an alarmingly charming smile filled his face. “Did I scandalize you?”

Elain gathered up all her strength and stole some of Lucien’s cockiness from the bond as she shot him a glare and unlaced her dress.

Standing there in nothing but her undergarments Elain said, “I think I should wear the shirt to the bed.”

#elain #lucien #elain x lucien #elucian #forced proximity #romance #fanfic #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #bonded #mates #love

[noteworthyao3]

Hey there, I caught up on Neutral, and I was wondering how Dark Danny would react to seeing Messer in the past or future? Also, don't be afraid to take time off if you need it. Your health and real life are more important to us readers than fanfiction. We're willing to wait a bit on the next chapter. Oh, what's Jack and Maddies perspective on Messer? Or Jazz's?

Thank you!!! You are such a sweetheart omg. I have aaaaa nasty habit of burning the candle at both ends without even trying to. I promise I'm trying to chill- haha- how good that's working out is debatable.

Never be afraid to send questions or whatever, even when I'm not working on a fic, I'm always happy to answer them regardless. They make me go 'teehee'. AND Ohohoho, those are good questions! They scritched my brain just right! >:D I'm going to answer the Dark Danny question pretty vaguely for sake of potential future spoilers.

So, imagine you're an entity made up of the worst parts of someone with powers beyond what should be humanly possible, and you see one of your former human counterpart's closest friends, while you still have all his memories. Depending on how much you know about Messer, your reaction to seeing them again will be wildly different. Any option I can think of or consider ends with me going, "…yikes." so make of that what you will. Jack and Maddie: As of Chap. 25, their perspectives on Messer are pretty limited. 25. Danny is pretty tight lipped on what goes on in his personal life in general (for obvious reasons), so they don't know much about Messer. The extent of their knowledge is that Danny has a study buddy who is quite smart and fucking loves Maddie's cookies. Since Danny's grades are up in English, I'm sure they're happy with the situation, even if they may be interested in learning more about this person. In typical parental fashion, they think Danny's feelings are more than platonic. Jazz: As for Jazz, woof… she has a lot going on in her life right now, and most of it is worrying about her little brother. The last direct interaction Messer and Jazz had was during the MBK arc after Messer had their session with Spectra, in which Jazz openly considers Messer a positive influence on Danny. She listened when they confided in her about their troubles with Kwan's crush and how angry they were with his bullying, so it's clear to her that Messer is a good egg. Though, with Danny and Messer's fight and his subsequent attempt at making soup as a peace offering, Jazz knows at the least that they're butting heads and that Danny made things worse by being stubborn. She's been in more than a few arguments with him and that's definitely something that would make her even angrier, so she absolutely gets it. It hasn't negatively impacted her opinion of Messer at all.

#mail box #gOD I LOVE QUESTIONS #neutral #me physically holding myself back from screaming all future plotlines at any given moment: *foams out the mouth cutely* #i'm rabid sorry

[pirates-pirates-pirates]

The Captains Dead P3

Deuce gets his name at last! Chap 1 Chap 2

Ace x Deuce [one sided] Characters: Deuce, Ace, Marco SFW Word Count: 2,700

Chapter 3: Ignorance is bliss

“A doctor?”

He nodded, Ace laughed, holding his side as he did so, acting as if it was the funniest thing in the entire world. He could see tears forming in the corner of his companion's eyes as he punched the side of the rowboat, a guffaw that lasted longer than he could stand.

“What’s funny about that?” he snapped.

“I saw you about to faint back there! What sort of doctor can’t handle blood?” Ace took a breath, trying to gather air back into his lungs, his laughter had taken control of him.

He pursed his lips together, sitting on his side of the rowboat, balled up and tense whereas Ace was slouched, limbs spread out as he dangled his arms over the side of the boat, careful not to touch the salty ocean water.

“What about you? I thought stories of those touched by the devil were just that, stories. I’d never met someone with a devil’s power before.” He tried to move the conversation on, distracting from his rather, embarrassing backstory.

“Even before I got my powers I knew I wanted to be a pirate. But with my reputation, no one wanted to sail with me.” Ace shrugged, a brief flicker of hurt in his eyes that the other caught deciding against prying into the matter.

“I just got lucky.” Ace hummed bringing his finger up, pointing to him and pretending to fire a pistol, complete with a kapow sound with his mouth.

A flame flicked from his fingertip swaying in the early morning air. The way Ace’s flame danced had him caught in a trance. It was the most beautiful flame he’d ever seen, different from any fire he’d seen before. Maybe it was his bright personality that made the flame brighter.

“I heard you can’t swim, that the ocean hates people like you.”

“Yeah, that part’s real.” Ace brought his finger to his lips, blowing out the flame.

“Why a pirate then? If the entire ocean wishes to take you back to the devil himself, surely you should stay on land?” he drummed his fingertips on his knees, watching Ace as he sat up, leaning forward and peering at him from under his hat.

“You’d think that right? truth is, it makes people like me more determined. If the entire world hates us and the ocean wants us all dead then surely the answer is to keep living. Spite and desire run through us.”

“Us?”

“Pirates! Outcast and hated for who and what we are, add being a devil on top of that.” Ace shrugged his shoulders.

Ace was hard to read he’d decided. So many emotions flowed through him, every facial expression either honest to the core or a mirage of mirth and mischief that hid deep pain, hurt that scarred his heart.

One day – maybe – he would open up. But for now, he was content to just be in the presence of Ace. Another thing he’d noticed about him was he hated to be left in silence for too long, he ran from shadows and hid from demons that lurked in the shadows of his head. 

The need to talk, to be heard wasn’t rudeness, wasn’t an egotistical streak that ran a mile wide, no. He recognized it for what it was. Distraction.

“What's your name then?”

“Ah, well.” It was his turn to feel watched, to have his every movement analyzed as he glanced off to the side, watching the sun start to climb the sky, watching as the orb far off in the pastel-shaded horizon began its day.

“My name died when I left.”

“Oh, that’s dramatic like something out of a romance novel.” Ace said an airy sigh, a smile on his lips as he watched his companion.

“Well, I want to write a book about my adventures as a pirate..” he replied, his eyes still focused on the distance, ignoring the inquisitive eyes of Ace that focused solely on him.

“Writers need names.”

Oh he hated the matter-of-fact tone in Ace’s voice, he was right though, he knew that. He nodded his head in reply, playing with one of the buttons on his coat, fidgeting as he tried to battle his nerves, he hated that he could still be such an awkward person. He remembered his mother and father talking about him in hushed tones, hoping he would grow out of it.

“Hey, here, with me.” Ace clicked his fingers.

His vision came back into focus, brought back from vanishing into his head, the habit of disassociating and being swept up in his own lament was something he still struggled with. Turning to Ace he blinked a few times.

“Yes, your right, I just, haven’t thought of one yet…”

“Deuce.”

“I’m sorry what?” he asked squinting at Ace.

“Deuce, because it means two, and I’m Ace which means one.” Ace concluded with a nod of finality.

“Why am I number two?” he snorted, arms folded over his chest as he quirked a brow.

“I was the first member of my crew and your my second, makes sense right?”

He didn’t argue, he didn’t utter a word. The sun climbed higher in the morning sky and Deuce for once felt a calmness wash over him.

--

Deuce was thankful Ace had the forethought to pack a bag with supplies for when he literally jumped ship. Stale bread and stagnant water, the meal of champions. Getting to the next island had been easier than anticipated with the devil's power that flowed through Ace.

The rowing had been a strain on his arms, not used to hard work, he would never admit that to his captain. Ace had been the voice of reason, insisting they couldn’t use his power too close to an island, he didn’t want to get recognized for it, something that needed to be guarded closely, something only the two of them could know.

He’d told Deuce no one on the crew had even an inkling he was something more than a runty snot-nosed youth. He’d told them he couldn’t swim and that had been the end of it. They never even questioned the nights he’d have nightmares and set fire to his room at random intervals.

They’d assumed he had issues, something not right in the head and he’d enjoyed starting the fires in bouts of fever for a twisted amusement. Whatever kept them off his case, kept them thinking he was more devious than he was, something that would keep grabbing reaching hands away from him.

The reputation of a pyromaniac suited him better than the fodder of ill-intended desires of his peers. 

Ace looked around the town, bustling with life, people from all around the world ducking in and out of the stores, the streets heaving with traders, buyers, and sellers all alike.

Deuce had never seen such a spectacle in his life, his eyes wide as he was jostled and shoulder barged by those who didn’t have time for his bewildered wonderment as they went about their day trying to make coin, find the best deals, and of course, snatch an unwatched purse.

Ace found himself smiling as he watched Deuce stumble behind him, everything was new to his first mate. The closest thing Deuce had seen to this was the weekly market he would sneak off to see, that was how he got all his books about pirates and giants.

“Did you hear about the doctor that can cure anything?” a passerby asked, amazement in their voice.

Deuce turned to face Ace who was already looking at him, both intrigued with the offhanded comment said to another in passing gossip. Ace adjusted the bag on his shoulder as they walked ahead, the confidence he exuded versus the hunched and awkward posture of Deuce was noticeable, men would get out of Ace’s way whereas Deuce was growing weary of being barged each time someone passed.

“A doctor who cures anything huh?” Ace rubbed his chin.

“Could they be like…. You?��

“It has to be. I can’t explain it otherwise,” Ace shrugged in reply.

The deeper they got into the marketplace, sounds taking over, mingling and overwhelming senses, the smells of meat cooking over the open fires filling their noses. The yelling of trades and the merry jingles attached to passing horses flowed freely through the air as the two pirates walked.

“Yeah, he’s a miracle worker!” another comment caused Deuce’s attention to peek.

He nudged Ace and nodded his head to the woman carrying a basket of fresh vegetables who stood there with a man carrying a large stack of wood. Talking about the doctor with bustling excitement, gushing about the man in earnest. Chattering and clucking about the marvels this miracle man could perform.

Deuce was skeptical and refused to believe such a person existed, it had to be someone like Ace. He watched as Ace approached the two, bowing his head, tipping his hat, a charming smile on his face, eyes crinkled with fondness, the cheerful expression could charm death himself into forgiving him of all his trespasses.

“My dear, this doctor you mention, where could I find him?”

“Oh, I..” she was flustered, unable to tear her gaze from his boyish good looks, almost dropping the turnip she was passing to her companion. “W-well, he’s hard to miss, he wears bright colours, hair yellow like the sun, he doesn’t seem real.”

He sounds like a fraud Deuce thought to himself, hands in his pockets as he watched Ace work his magic with the stranger, the way she stared at Ace’s bare chest didn’t escape Deuce's notice, a pang of jealously bloomed in his chest, unsure why just another feeling he didn’t have control over. One of the many scrambling scurrying thoughts that occupied his constantly busy mind.

“I think he’s still by the fountain helping those in need.” The man finally speaks up.

“For free?” Deuce butted in, Ace giving him a look, wondering where he was going with his line of questioning.

“Nah, he’ll charge ya but it's worth it. He healed my arm completely!”

There it was – a charge, a fee – he was sure this doctor was nothing more than a conman. They headed in the direction pointed, a mumbled thanks as they weaved in and out of the crowd, Deuce following close behind Ace, people moving out his way.

Ace, amused that he was being used as a human shield just chuckled and picked up his pace, excited to see what this doctor had to offer, what sort of person was this miracle granter? He was brimming with excitement while his accomplice scowled in thought behind him.

“Doctor! I’ve had this bad knee for a week now, anything you can do for it?” a man with a leg bandaged, limping towards the clearing that had gathered a sizeable crowd asked, pleaded of the benevolent healer.

Deuce peered around Ace, seeing the scene unfold. The injured man leaned against the fountain, the rays of morning sunlight reflected off the water beautifully, a spray of water sprinkled behind the performance giving off an atmosphere that the audience drank up with giddy glee and naivety that was obvious to anyone with the impulse to fleece and to lie.

The doctor as the people called him was tall, lean, more muscle than a doctor should have in Deuce’s honest opinion. A crop of messy blond hair sat on an otherwise bald scalp,  reminiscent of a pineapple he thought, focusing his judgemental stare on him.

A purple shirt that stood out from everyone else's drab wear, a teal sash, golden belt looped haphazardly across his waist. Long legs in fitted trousers, no sign of a weapon at his side. That was what made Ace tilt his head, a man who was known to be a healer making money should surely be armed to the teeth and yet the blond stood there in his bright colourful finery.

“What a show-off, reminds me of a peacock.” Duece snorted, far less impressed with the fake than Ace was.

“Hmm are you saying he’s pretty? Because I think I agree.” Ace smirked when he heard a scoff and a snort.

They watched on as the doctor held out a pouch and jingled it, enticing the injured man to drop a fistful of coins into the growing collection, the clinking of a good amount of coin drawing attention. Closing the bag and attaching it to his waist once more the doctor wore a lopsided grin, his half-lidded eyes taking in the sight of his patient.

“I don’t trust him, he looks full of himself,” Deuce mumbled, a whine in his voice as tugged at Ace’s arm, trying to pull him away from the crowd, suddenly regretting his desire to check out the boastful claims.

 Ace stifled his laugh, amused at how much Duece had decided on a whim he hated the stranger with the gift. The blond leaned down, his hands grasping the injury, everyone leaned in, bated breaths, preparing to witness a miracle. Blue – beautiful blue – glowed from his hands.

Fire? That had Ace’s attention, Deuce knew it, that was someone with a devil's power. He tsked at the knowledge. So he was selling his power? Making money from his curse? Was he jealous, impressed, or astounded in the sheer cheek of it? 

He could tell Ace was impressed, the fact the blue flames were similar to his power had the smile on his face growing, his eyes following the doctor's hands with rapt attention.

Shimmering sapphire flames licked across the injury, the man being healed closed his eyes, letting out a sigh as the cooling sensation eclipsed the pain, chasing it away and leaving nothing but relief.

“How does that feel yoi?” the blond asked, lifting his hands from the other.

“I- I don’t feel pain! You did it! You cured me!” the once injured man clapped his hands together, the look of admiration on his face as tears welled up, he grabbed the blond's hands and kissed them, sobbing his thanks over and over, others clapping and cheering.

Oh, he could have thrown up how ridiculous these people eating from his hand, lambs to the slaughter, idiots joining the cult of the damned. Deuce shook his head once more, why were all these people so taken with him? He blinked in disbelief when Ace started to clap, joining in the applause with vigor.

“Fuck sake, you too?”

“Aw come on, I know we know the reason he can do that but it’s still such a good power, right?”

A roll of his eyes and another shake of his head, blue locks swaying with the motion, he was glad Ace at least saw the blond for what he was, and that wasn’t a fucking God. He was a devil just like the rest cursed to never grace the pirate's graveyard.

The doctor bowed, a lazy smile that Deuce took as pure unbridled self-confidence, he excused himself, claiming he was tired and needed to rest his gift so he could heal the masses tomorrow. Deuce wished he could through a stone at him. Knock him down a peg.

“Let's get something to eat, I think you need it.” Ace said, slinging his arm around Deuce's shoulder pulling him down, pressing his cheek against his, the close contact sending fire through the Deuce,  blush returning to his face.

“How did you get money?” Deuce mumbled the question as he side-eyed Ace.

“I staged a mutiny, do you think I’m the sort of person who’d withstand stealing to get by?” he chuckled and slapped Deuce on the back, dropping his arm and sauntering ahead.

Ace could say those things all he liked, he could pretend he did everything for his own gain, but Deuce could read him like a book, he could tell the troubled thoughts that plagued him, how guilt in his actions would dog him down. He could see the smile a little less bright, less vivid in the colours of his usual joy when he recalled those he’d stepped on to get where he was.

Guilt.Deuce had a feeling Ace was someone who felt guilt at every turn, guilt for the past, for his name, for just being. Maybe he wasn’t the only complete mess out of them.

#one piece #marco the phoenix #fushichou marco #masked deuce #portugas d ace #portgas d ace #fire fist ace

[whimsyswastry]

Unusual OC Associations

@greypetrel <3 You’re not the only one with a terrible memory. I had planned on doing this anyway and completely forgot about it until you tagged me again.

Ellaria Trevelyan*

*This is the first time I’ve shared anything about Ellaria since her complete overhaul over the holidays. Hopefully I can nail down exactly who she is and get Unharrowed: Curator’s Cut off the ground.

Seasoning: Cinnamon-sugar, because cinnamon by itself just isn’t sweet enough. She isn’t this spice because she’s particularly polite or simpering (the opposite in fact) but instead because she has a voracious sweet tooth and is rarely seen without something to munch on.

Weather: Thunderstorms. The particular type of storm that’s wind, thunder, and lightening, but very little rain. The type of storm that might hit right before a tornado touches down.

Colour: A soft, golden orange. The color of fire. It draws you in, but approach too quickly and you’re going to get burned.

Sky: The pre-sunrise purple sky of a summer dawn, the air is warm, but the dew is chilly. The approaching sun offers enough light to see exactly where you’re going, but is still considered a night sky.

Magic power: While she is a mage capable of many things, I’m going to answer as if she weren’t. Ellaria has amazing powers if observation. Not necessarily in the way someone like Sherlock Holmes is, but more in terms of empathy. Seeing how each puzzle piece of emotion fills and fits with the people around her.

House plant: She’d never be a house plant. She’d be something more like...the common daylily. You know, those orange flowers that show up one year and the next year the entire hillside is covered in them? She’s bold, hardy, thrives in the wild, but only for a single day before she needs to retreat and recharge.

Weapon: Fire. Rarely used, but difficult to control once it starts.

Social media: She’d hate all modern social media. She would’ve thrived in the days of Xanga and OG LiveJournal, where she could share her thoughts on just about everything and everyone still had the attention spans to read through entire essays about why Spike was a better partner to Buffy than Angel.

Make-up product: Chapstick. She has constantly chapped lips and while she never wastes her hard earned money on makeup, she does invest in a jar of soft beeswax that she can use a lip balm.

Fear: Closed spaces, being trapped. She’s 19, a mage, and has chosen a life of Magebane addiction rather than risk being caught by the Templars for accidental use of magic. The thought of being locked in, no matter how large a space, fills her with dread and sends anxious little bugs skittering across her skin.

Ice cube shape: She’s a chewer, so she prefers the little ice cubes that are hollow in the middle for easier chewing without breaking a tooth. (I’ve literally only seen these types of ice cubes at hospitals and dining halls, so it must be a particular machine that makes them).

Method of long distance travel: A boat. Despite her not wanting to feel…contained, she never imagined feeling trapped on a boat. She only imaging feeling the freedom to go wherever the water could take her, off to unseen lands, far from the mage Templar rebellion and chantry.

Art style: Impressionism — beauty of the real world but slightly blurry, as though that beauty is just out of reach.

Mythological creature: Selkie — playful, mischievous, calm, and puts much of her energy into saving others who need it and being a bee in the bonnet of those who don’t.

Piece of stationery: Thick parchment, scented with her own perfume. Not as an invitation (like one might scent a love letter) but more like a threat. This will be the last thing you smell before you die.

3 emojis: 🎻🧁👀

Celestial body: The moon, but not just the moon. Specifically the moon as it is reflected on a large body of water. One of Ellarias favorite things is to crawl into the roof of a low town foundry and watch the moon dance across the Waking Sea.

Tarot card: The Lovers (Upright: Being at a crossroads, Choices, Commitment, Falling in love, Partnerships || Reversed: Disharmony, Imbalance, Misalignment of values, Self-love)

Tagging || I can’t remember if you’ve already done this, but I’d love to see more about your OCs @enderevynne

[apoapsis]

@femtaillle said, ❝ i know you. i know about you. ❞

              He’s aware that he should exercise more care when stepping in for SIGMA directly.

It wasn’t as simple as SIEBREN merely being that efficient; he’s been finding himself getting far too carried away with wanton violence more and more often– and clearly someone had finally taken notice. Hm. Not his fault that he finds SIGMA’S bubbly demeanor and eccentricity nearly impossible to mirror– it would be far easier if his counterpart would simply behave and conduct himself… more properly; more like himself. Often, it seemed as though, in an attempt to re-establish an identity for himself, he established himself as SIEBREN’S own antithesis, whether indirectly or doing so willingly. Oh yes, he could certainly sympathize with him in that regard, if only it didn’t include the infuriating compulsion to polarize himself so vehemently against the very idea of their shared DIVINITY. How SIGMA could knowingly possess such an intimate understanding of such power and still deny his new place in the UNIVERSE was simply beyond him– then again… perhaps he simply needed to be shown exactly what he was capable of, or… perhaps he was afraid of his power.

                Either way, repetitive demonstration was clearly required– that was simply the price of choosing TALON, as cruel as it felt at times… But if he spared him the so-called ‘tough love’, he would die; if SIEBREN couldn’t protect him, who would? 

... Why did SIGMA have to be so… fragile?

                Visually, he is SIGMA– but he moves all wrong. In retrospect, if anyone would take notice to their little “secret”, it would be the Widowmaker herself, as he is the original; what interest does he have in pretending to be meek, when he has achieved GODHOOD? SIEBREN does not carry himself in such a miniscule way; he occupies space so very unapologetically, broad shoulders squared; his regal head cocked back in prime, elegant form as he leers down at friend and foe alike– their honor to be granted the opportunity to bask in his true radiance, the vermin that they are. There is no post-battle commentary, no detectable ounce of SIGMA’S habitual attention-seeking whatsoever, as a thoroughly thrashed astrophysicist lurches aboard the dropship, the aircraft shuddering beneath the blanketing, increased gravitational pull of SIEBREN’S influence, and silently taking his place upon an unoccupied seat to click the safety harness into place. Out of all of the other units, this time he’s the one coated with the most blood it would seem– really, he’d anticipated a mission with just himself and the Widowmaker to be much… tamer, considering he’d been deployed to destroy the facility while she cleared the surrounding areas of survivors. As much as he loved the physical aspect of beating another person into solid concrete, it was exhausting. He can’t tell if the blood coating his face and saturating his previously fluffy, snow-white wisps of hair is his own or not. A pale tongue listlessly peeks through thin, chapped lips, clearing a thin line through the scarlet coating his upper lip with a slow, methodical swipe. Metallic. A sign of a job well done. 

… You are disgusting...!

               ... An odd way to thank me– personally, I found your silence far more respectful... you should be quiet more often.

Initially, he pays no real attention to his crewmates; as far as SIEBREN was concerned, with the mission now complete, they were no longer his responsibility, and any sense of obligation to them rapidly dissipates once he’s cleared to leave the craft. Ideally, he might have wandered off to the medical ward if one Miss Professor O’Deorain did not happen to be employed there– but in reality, superficial and-or otherwise non-debilitating injuries were rarely, if ever, willingly presented to the medical staff. That’s typically why SIGMA often neglected to remove the armor until safely within his room– but right now, SIEBREN is so sticky with the slowly congealing blood and souring bits of gore that he needs it off of his body. It’s fine when it’s warm, but now that it’s had a chance to cool off, he feels sick. He’s quick to meander towards the armory since he knows it’s often quiet– a majority of the time, the equipment provided was brought directly to the agents unless preparing for private missions, and he’d noticed nearly all of them rarely turned up there to hand in their used equipment, leaving it fairly deserted when returning from missions. 

               SIEBREN’S only just unplugged his capacitor from the cable jack socket in the back of his head when Widow speaks up, making him jump reflexively. Maybe SIGMA would have indicated she was there if he wasn’t so upset with him– ah well. It’s difficult not to feel ‘caught’ when he’s well aware that his existence is intended to be, well, secret. It’s here that he makes his next error– rather than instantly recoiling and stammering an unnecessary apology and insisting he knows nothing in his counterpart’s obnoxiously non-subtle way of attempting to redirect attention from himself… There is a moment of hesitation as glacial lavender eyes lock with her equally glass-like stare. She knows…? What did she know? A part of him is praying that she meant the observation towards SIGMA, but… no, she doesn’t speak to him that cryptically; his counterpart wouldn’t have understood the subtext, surely. But if she wasn’t speaking to SIGMA, then…

“... Do you genuinely…?” he asks in a hostile, agitated tone as he resumes discarding the bulk of his gear and allowing it to drop unexpectedly hard to the tiled floor below as his increased gravity accelerates its natural velocity and making the light, durable carbon fiber alloy sound as though it were made of lead with the force with which it impacts the floor. Left in SIGMA’S hideous little jumpsuit, he pads towards her in careful, paced strides– she’s made him aware that she already knows, so there’s no point in attempting to float or pretend any longer while they’re here together. Even with his feet planted firmly upon the floor, he towers above her callously, his own glassy stare just as unblinking as hers as he draws near. Gravity is intoxicating this close to him as his influence exerts pressure upon the atmosphere directly. Yet he would be remiss to deny a sense of curiosity as to why she would feel so inclined to bring it up. 

              “... I don’t think you do.” SIEBREN counters–  however, rather than snap at her, he cocks his head several degrees to the side, narrowed snake-like eyes gazing down at her over the bridge of his broad nose with muted interest. “Because if you knew anything, you would know better than to address me so openly– you didn’t even ask SIGMA if he approved of this. What could you possibly know of me?” Despite sharing the same vocal inflections and cadence that SIGMA exhibited, SIEBREN speaks more directly, articulating each word with uncharacteristic evenly-toned sharpness. “-- Here; let me guess! I would deduce that Miss Sombra must have shared something with you in regards to me… And my disinterest in masquerading around as SIGMA has finally lapsed, is that accurate? In any case, I should... probably have a word with Miss Sombra about that...” At least, in regards to SIEBREN-- he doesn't care what she says about SIGMA.

A dry snort escapes the astrophysicist as he looks her up and down once over, an annoyed scowl crossing his features. “... Regardless… You may know of me– but surely you will not claim to know me. If it's enough to bring it to my attention, then please! By all means-- speak!”

              “-- Tell me; what do you claim to “know”?

"... Of what significance are you to me?”

#interactions + ғʟɪʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪɴғɪɴɪᴛʏ ; ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴇᴏᴍᴇᴛʀɪᴄ ᴘʀᴏɢᴇɴʏ + #femtaillle #recall + ʙʟᴜʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇs ᴏғ ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ʀᴇᴀʟ ; ʀᴇ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ + #baby's first beta editor post... anyway i hate it #if this breaks for u.... i will Cry

[agentnico]

Bob Marley: One Love (2024) review

Every little thing… is not going to be alright!

Plot: Bob Marley: One Love celebrates the life and music of an icon who inspired generations through his message of love and unity. On the big screen for the first time, discover Bob’s powerful story of overcoming adversity and the journey behind his revolutionary music. 

For a very special individual this is a very unspecial biopic. Bob Marley is well known legend and icon, and the movie sets out to present him as such, yet it’s done in such a banal and messy way. The film zeroes in on pivotal events that occurred in Marley’s life between 1976 and 1978, from a failed assassination attempt at his home to then his Smile Jamaica concert two days later, the creation of his “Exodus” album while self-exiled in the UK, and his return to his home country for the One Love Peace Concert. These were all really cool events in real life I’m certain, however in the context of the movie they lack and real energy or impact. The movie tries to act all mighty high and clever by not always telling a linear narrative, and instead jumping between non-chronological moments that it’s easy to get lost in the happenings. In fact, most of the movie consists of various montages and vignettes, as such allowing zero to no possibility to get even remotely invested in the story.

I feel really sorry for the cast. Kingsley Ben-Adair is evidently a charismatic chap, and Lashana Lynch is really trying to emote and bring out the dramatic chops, however due to the choppy editing and the movie being too distracted with jumping to the next Bob Marley song accompanied music video, these actors are never given the chance to sit down properly and have a proper deep conversation with one another. The revelation of Bob Marley finding out he has skin cancer might as well have been delivered in the same nonchalant tone as the old lady in the renowned worst movie ever made The Room when she proclaims “I got the results of the test back - I definitely have breast cancer!” after which everyone proceeds to never acknowledge this ever again. Alright, maybe not to that extreme, but the movie never provides the chance for the actors to breath and really explore the layers of their characters. Oh, James Norton is also in this film. What’s his role, you may ask? Honestly, Norton just looked like he was along because he liked the music, hence why he spends majority of the movie positively bopping and nodding his head.

The whole package feels awfully vanilla and under-cooked. The camerawork is uninspired and as mentioned the editing is all over the place. Heck, even Bohemian Rhapsody for all its problems managed to still make the concert sequences pop and be really entertaining. Any time however when Marley was singing here the camera would lazily move about as if it smoked so much green that it forgot where the hell it was. Speaking of Bohemian Rhapsody, just like Rami Malek in that film, Ben-Adir mostly only lip-syncs the famous singer’s songs, and I always find that to be very lazy trait in music biopics. Look, if you’re playing a famous music star you must give it all. Hence why I think Taron Egerton’s performance in Rocketman stands out so much - he made Elton’s songs his own, and overall became Elton John. Still can’t believe he didn’t even get nominated yet Rami Malek won the whole darn golden statue! Regardless, back onto the topic of Bob Marley: One Love - I am surprised this was signed off in as good enough to represent someone who’s life story is considered legendary and full of excitement. It feels lacklustre and thrown together…..and it’s produced by Brad Pitt! That’s right, Brad Pitt produced this mess. Dude should stick to acting.

Overall score: 3/10

#bob marley #bob marley one love #kingsley ben adir #lashana lynch #music #jamaica #drama #cinema #movie #movie reviews #film #film reviews #james norton #reinaldo #reinaldo marcus green #2024 #2024 in film #2024 films #ziggy marley #music biopic #bob marley one love review #bob marley movie

[thejedifairy]

Savage x fem Reader - Visions

The cool breeze of the night swept its way through the grand manor house which Maul now claimed ownership of. Carved within the mountain, surrounded by thick forest. The golden waterfalls were thunderous, drowning out any sound that came from the mountain. Its spectacular view distracted the prying eyes who dared wandered where they shouldn’t. The thin red silk that hung from the sculpted archways swayed gently with the cool breeze, it slowly engulfed the large room, creeping up the ornate legs of the low set bed, swirling its way around the sleeping pair.

The yellow and browned skinned night brother body did not pay any heed to the drop in temperature. His red homeworld: Darthomir was embraced by the bitter cold each time darkness fell on the planet. He and his brothers were accompanied each night by the heat of the roaring fire giving them the little comfort that was so often denied by both planet and their female counterparts. 

While his companion, who was much more sensitive to the shift in climate also made no fuss about the temperature. For her body was already drenched in sweat as if she had run miles under the blazing twin suns of Tatooine. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the sheets, tugging harshly on the thick fabric, toes curled as she dragged her feet up the bed only to straighten them out once again. Her back arched off the bed so slowly before she had no choice but to collapse back down on the firm mattress. Her head twisted side to side so fervently that had anyone been watching would fear her neck would snap. Soft “No’s” and whimpers left her chapped lips. Her mind fought for control of her senses trying to decipher what was real and what wasn't. 

The presence of the cosmic power of the force offered her a sight, one she did not think could ever come to pass nor ever want to witness. The death of her mate. The cloaked figure standing proud, watching his form slump to the floor, a blur of red appeared to his side and with the cry of rage that rang from the vision she too awoke with a scream of terror.

The large Zabarak tore from his bed, igniting his dual-wielding lightsaber; with a deep throated growl he scoured the room, his head snapping in every direction, his adrenaline wiping all remnants of sleep both his vision and his mind. He stood poised ready to face the immediate danger that presented itself to both him and his beloved.

His growl stuttered to a stop. Savage was beyond confused at the empty room before him and turned quickly to check on his mate. She sat up straight in bed, her chest heaving as her eyes were pressed firmly shut. Her usual thick hair was matted and stuck itself to her skin, while her nightclothes was dishevelled as her hands moved to grip her top. 

He moved to approach but at the sound of his footsteps her eyes snapped open, they widened as she stared at him. His strong fingers splayed as he reached to touch her, to comfort her for he could sense the fear that was flooding his senses through the force. But at the mere sight of his attempted touch, she flung herself from their bed, scream in her throat, as if his hand would be scorching hot to the touch.

The night brother was beyond stunned. Frozen, he dared not move, to wonder if he was perceived as a threat by her as his mind worked rapidly to figure out what had just occurred before him. She had curled herself into a ball, pressing heavily against the stone wall behind her. Her fingers gripped her arms so tight he could see the red marks blossoming against her skin. Her scream had turned into wails, one he could associate with a mother whose child lay dead in her arms. But it wasn’t a child’s name he could hear from her choked sob but his own.  

“Savage, Savage, Savage” she cried. Why does she cry his name? Surely, she could not see him, he stood before her in this very room. She looked at him. Or did she someone else?

Against his better instinctive judgement that was warning him of a potentially fatal outcome of approaching a cornered female. He rolled his shoulders back, tilting his head from side to side easing the muscles in his neck, reminding himself as he moved that this female before him wasn’t a stranger, but his woman, his mate. (Y/N) the person who decided that he was the one that she would walk through life with, no matter the path it may lead to.

He slowly sunk to a kneeling position, hands splayed palm up allowing her to see that he was unarmed and presents no threat to her. From her quivering position, she reluctantly turned her gaze to him. He could sense her shock at him being there. He knew now that her mind and sight were rightened and she had now ascertained reality from vision.

He watched as her chest swelled with the intake of breath. She shakily released it as she uncurled herself, moving to crawl on her hands and knees. He dare not move, he waited and watched afraid that sudden movement may agitate her. When she was only a few feet away she stopped. Her slender arm shook as she reached out, fearful that the man before her would disappear the moment her fingertips brushed against his skin.

When he remained solid, a choked sob escaped her lips. Her fingertips were replaced by her palm running the length of his chest, his pectorals muscle tensing under her passing touch, his twin hearts beating faster as the adrenaline left his body and being replaced by his relief.

To her amazement his body was fine, he was fine. No lightsaber burns. “Savage” flood of tears fell once more from her red puffy eyes. 

“My love, what troubles you” he griped her face softly with his large hands, tilting her face up to look at him, his large thumbs wiping away her endless tears. 

“Your death my love, I have foresaw it. You will fall to the Sith lord” 

Before he had a chance to utter a single word, she flung her arms around his neck. Latching herself on to him. “Hold me, I beg of you please” 

Without another word, the darthmarian lifted his mate. His muscular arms wrapping around the lower of her back and her knees and he lifted her bridal style before taking her back to their bed. Where he did as he was asked. He held her so tight that he believed that if he held her any tighter her bones would shatter. 

For now he would allow her to rest, then once the sun has risen he would press her for the answers he was curious to know.

#starwarstheclonewars #star wars #readerinsert #reader #savage #romance #death #dreams

[wjforever]

Shatter me again. Chapter 10

We are walking down a dark hallway. I'm not surprised by the darkness, electricity is being saved. It was a real luxury a year ago, and I don't think anything could have changed much, especially for the better. I'm glad it's dark. It's familiar. It's better than bright light, because light is something new. Now there is a possibility that there is not too big shocks await me.  Suddenly, I acutely realize that I want to go back to my cell. I'm starting to feel like I've fallen into some kind of trap, like I'm a rat running through a maze, looking for a way out. But there is no way out.

I can't feel my arms or legs. I don't really need them when my heart was ripped out of my chest again. Another betrayal when I just wanted to believe. 

My lips are dry and chapped. It doesn't matter. They no longer need to fulfill their function. There is nothing to discuss, nothing to talk about.

I feel like I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. I want this liberation. I dream of falling asleep and never waking up again, so that nothing else emasculates my soul anymore. 

But the closer we get, the more painful sensations this light causes. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to blink away the pieces of glass scratching the whites of my eyes, to get rid of the unbidden tears. Uselessly.

A blow in the back. This time it's not Adam. It's better. It's a physical pain. It's better to experience this than to feel a knife between your shoulder blades from someone you didn't want to expect it from. After all, I knew him. I didn't know him at all. 

I'm too weak, I'm almost blind because of the bright light, my legs buckle because of the impact, and I fall to the floor and immediately feel a foot on my back. The burden of pain, sadness and suffering that I'm destined to carry all my life.

"Don't need to." 

I hear a low, velvety, but at the same time steely voice. There is so much strength, calmness and confidence in it. This is a powerful command that requires no effort. And I almost want to see who that voice belongs to. If the situation were different, maybe I could even say that I like this voice. It makes something inside me shrink. But now I can expect that these feelings can only be caused by anxiety.

"Better dim the light, Weston, her eyes haven't gotten used to it yet, and I'd like us to talk, looking into each other's eyes." The voice continues and I like not only the voice itself, but also what it says. Although I don't expect anything good. Not at all. But there is some honesty, recognition of equality and maturity in these words. It seems to me that the voice should belong to a mature man, perhaps in his 30s.

The boot disappears from my back, the light becomes less bright, and I'm able to look at the world painlessly. I raise my head slightly, but it's hard to see anything from my position.  "Help her up." The voice says again.

I'm not waiting for help, I'm able to get up, although it's hard for me. But I'm trying, fighting for the remnants of my dignity. I am allowed to be on an equal footing, and I try to take advantage of this opportunity. Although I feel that I deserve to lie on this floor, pinned down by a boot, like a pitiful and insignificant insect. I get what I deserve. What are they wrong about?

"Juliette Ferrars." The voice comes again, and I flinch. This is the first time it has addressed me. I finally lift my head and look at the speaker. 

The scene in front of me strikes me to the core.

We are in a fairly spacious and completely empty room. The only piece of furniture is a chair on which the speaker is sitting, surrounded by a retinue of bodyguard soldiers. He looks like a prince on a throne. Even subconsciously I can't use the word 'king' because he is incredibly young. Or my sore eyes are deceiving me. He looks like he's about my age and it doesn't seem possible.

They obey him so implicitly. Why do they obey him?

The second thing that strikes me is his appearance. Perfect, fine facial features, sharp jawline, flawless skin, thick, expertly combed, shining blonde hair, not too thin, not too full lips. And most importantly – his eyes. Even from a distance, I can see their amazing brilliance. This is gems, pale emerald and I don't think I've ever seen anything so beautiful.

His clothes are as beautiful as he is. He is in military uniform, but this is a parade uniform. His black, perfectly fitting military jacket is buttoned up to the very throat. The neck is wrapped with something like a scarf. The white color contrasts vividly with the black. On his hands are gloves, also white. Instead of military boots, shiny elegant shoes are on his feet. 

This is so beautiful that it feels like I'm seeing a painting in front of me. It can't be real. It's not even fair.

It's obvious from his uniform and position, that he has a certain degree of power here, at least among soldiers of this level. He seems so confident, as if he could lead not a handful of soldiers, but the whole world. A smug smirk plays on his lips. There are playful lights in his eyes.

The idea of a semblance of equality breaks like waves against rocks. There can be no talk of any equality, even approximately. He's just taunts me, mocks me, teases me. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hide as much of my body from his gaze as possible.

I can can't imagine what a pitiful sight I am, with an exhausted body, in my rags. We are like two different worlds that had been collided at great speeds. I'm a free performance for him, a little entertainment before lunch. Now he's going to make me dance for him or bark, and then he'll order me to be killed, slowly and painfully. And then he will shake me off like a fly that bored him, because even the moment of my death will not be interesting and entertaining enough. And he will immediately forget that I ever brushed his ideal life at all.

I already loathe everything about him. I already hate him. 

He looks at me inquisitively, tilting his head slightly with the same evil, contented half-smile. 

"I've been waiting for you here for a long time. You know." My strength is only enough to look back at him. "You could have been here much earlier if you had been a little more compliant, less stubborn."

I don't really understand what he means, what he's leading to. And he immediately makes a clarification.

"If you were a little more friendly with your cellmate…"

A lot of emotions rush at me at once. Embarrassment and horror at the realization that he was watching me, or at least received a detailed account of what happened. Shame because of my worthlessness and gullibility. Bitterness at the betrayal of a man I was almost ready to believe.

"Hmm…" He says with feigned surprise. "Look at this. Isn’t that interesting?" His head turns to the side, he finally breaks eye contact with me, and I sigh almost with relief. His gaze is too intense to bear it calmly. "Kent, would you step forward, please."

I see Adam again. I want to fall on the floor and just cry. Instead, I dig my bitten nails into my own clothes. Adam Kent. That's how I used to know him before. And now there is not even the slightest doubt that it's just someone insanely similar. This is the boy who took the wrong the only possible side.

I don't look at Green Eyes anymore. All my attention is devoted to Adam, but he refuses to exchange glances with me. Instead, he stands next to his leader. He doesn't show any special respect, only a curt nod, preserving his own dignity. Perhaps the leader isn’t nearly as important as he thinks.

"Sir." I hear from his mouth.

I refuse to be in this reality and my brain has long learned to solve such problems. I am carried away somewhere to another world, in the universe of my own thoughts and fantasies. I start comparing their voices.

It seems almost funny. Adam looks older, more sturdy, stocky, although he is taller than the blond. He's more tough but kindly at the same time. A real soldier. And his voice, deep enough, soft, perfectly matches his appearance, his fathomless blue eyes. 

The green-eyed on the other hand has a more refined, slender, flexible figure, but not devoid of masculinity at all. He is fit and elegant. But his voice… It seems even lower than Adam's, deeper, more viscous, pouring like a song. He could as well purr or whisper in someone's ear. And this somewhat contrasting combination of picture and sound makes an indelible impression. And with his sharp facial features and this pircing eyes, the image becomes completely fascinating. In Adam, everything is smoother, unambiguously. 

I think about whether Adam would have suited the voice of his leader. No, I decide. Although Adam has just betrayed me, this voice may belong only to someone more insidious, complex, contradictory. A snake with green eyes that hypnotizes you, only to swallow as you lose control.

I shudder when I suddenly see intent green eyes in front of me. I blink a couple of times and look down. I didn't see when he managed to approach me, apparently noticing that I had slipped away. Maybe I missed what he was saying. It couldn't be good.

My eyes drift over his clothes, his patches. Military mementos. I see a small plaque on the right side of his jacket. It says Warner. I realize that this is his second name.

"It seems you made quite an impression on her." he says with a smirk, but there is no share of humor in it, rather irritation.

Adam doesn't comment on it, doesn't look at me. I don't think it's because of guilt. He is rather waiting for an order, permission to speak.

"Do you want to comment?" Warner says, encouraging Adam to talk.

Those green eyes don't want to linger on Adam for some reason. Instead, they burn through me. He seems to be waiting for his poison to take effect and make me paralyzed, but I still don't want to give up. Now I look at him again, right into these pieces of green ice, and somehow it seems to me that he enjoys this confrontation. He likes to torture me. And this is just the beginning of the torment.

I hear a restrained "Sir." from Adam. "I was just following orders and acting…"

Warner is not interested in listening to this. His beautiful face suddenly contorts into a grimace of either annoyance or disgust, and he interrupts Adam, finally turning away from me.

"Why would I expect you to say something different?"

"Are you going to kill me?" 

I wonder who could ask such a question to this obviously dangerous person. How reckless. It's only a moment later that I realize with horror that I heard my own voice. I understand this when I get hit with the butt of a rifle again. And i'm on the floor again.

I'm so weak that I don't think I can get up anymore, even if I want to. But I manage to raise my head to see Warner's reaction to this little action. 

He rolls his eyes. Comes closer to me. I see his perfectly polished shoes, his perfectly pressed trousers with black glistening stripes down the sides. He suddenly squats down in front of me, looks at me, but his words are addressed not to me.

"Easy, Roland." His voice is deliberately edifying. "Wouldn't you like to know the same thing if you were in her position? Personally, I would ask the exact same question."

I'm powerless. My head weighs a ton, and I lay it on the cold floor. It strikes me like an electric shock when I feel Warner's hand on my skull, on my hair. I wonder if he knows about me. But it doesn't seem possible that he isn't. It doesn't seem possible that he is. No one of the who know wants to touch me.

His hand gently caresses my head. I'm like a dog sprawled at his feet, a wild animal that he intends to tame. It's disgusting, and somehow soothing at the same time. 

"Leave us, it seems the time for Miss Ferrars and myself to talk business. Right, Juliette?"

"Sir…"

"I said you're free."

"But sir, she is…"

"Do you think I can't handle one emaciated girl?" His voice becomes harder, sharper, like a razor.

"Negative, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Will not happen again." I hear an immediate response full of fear. And then footsteps.

I struggle to raise my head, I want to know, to see what's going on around. But my eyes never reach his eyes. I still feel his hand on me, and then I hear his half-whisper. 

"I have a proposition for you."

Read my notes and more chapters here AO3

Aesthetics, sneak peeks, information about publications and so on Buy me a coffee

#shatter me again #aaron warner #juliette ferrars #shatter me #shatter me series #warnette #ella sommers #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #adam kent

[stickynotestoletters]

Izuku x Male Reader Smut

I'm a dirty slut, so .... yeah

Women DNI please :3

Warnings: you push friend boundaries in the fic but Izuku likes it so it's fine, bottom reader, top izuku, buff tan izuku, big tiddy izuku, God kink apparently, degradation, he calls you puppy, a bit of simp Izuku, breeding kink

Izuku wasn't a simp, okay? He was kind, he was courteous and pleasant to be around! But he always had boundaries with his friends and loved ones. Well....until he met you.

You see, Izuku had a not-so-obvious crush on you (shut it Bakugou). Ever since he met you at UA he kind of let you push any and all boundaries that he had put in place with his friends.

Now don't get the wrong idea! At first, when you both met in your first year at UA it was just little stuff! Like, using his clothes or borrowing a pillow. I mean that's what friends are for right? At least that’s what you told him.

He thought maybe he just needed to chill out and let loose his rules a bit. So you were a little friendlier about how you acted around him as opposed to your other friends, so what?

He could make an exception this once and that would be it!

But then you started getting even more comfortable.

And it was good! He was happy you were comfortable around him! It made his heart fly!

You were being a little touchier with him and it was just friendly stuff. Laying your head on his shoulder and in his lap or even just stroking his hair while you cuddle, but that's fine!

He likes it, he always has and always will!

You ask permission the first time you do these things and how could he resist sitting in the arms of a gorgeous man like you?

Then it stays that way for a while a little after UA.

You get a little bold every once in a while after that but it's nothing he can't handle.

He's working out and doing hero work so he has more things to focus on than his not so little crush anymore.

Even if he stays up at night thinking about all those touches. Thinking about your chapped lips and smooth skin beneath his hands. Thinking about your hands and how much he likes them. Likes them in his hair, massaging his shoulders. How much more he would like them if you tangled them in his hair and pull on it as he's fucking you into his mattress. How much he'd then like it for you to yell and scream his name as he absolutely pounds you into his sheets. How much he wants you to cry and scream his name until the neighbors bring noise complaints and you have a sore throat the next day from it.

So yeah. He doesn't have the time.

Until one night you show up to his door. It's late, almost 4 in the morning, about 2 hours after he comes home from his agency, and he just hears these little knocks on the door. He thinks it's the rain at first until he gets a text from you asking him if he's up and if you could come in.

He's almost dressed and ready for bed but for you, he'd sacrifice any amount of sleep to make sure you're okay at any time of the night.

He opens his door to find you drenched from the rain. And he means soaked. You're shivering in these nice little skinny jeans and a white T-shirt. You're sobbing and your hair is spilling water onto his doormat. "Hey Izuku, is it-is it okay if I come in?"

He can hear just how congested you are, it seems like you've been crying for a while. "Yeah, just let me-let me get you a towel, are you okay?" You start sobbing in front of him and he gives you the towel as he comes back."Never mind, that was obviously a stupid question, come on in and go get a shower."

You're nice and warm by the time you come back to the kitchen, he's made you shower and given you some food. So now you two sit down on his couch and he holds you close to him. he's not saying anything and neither are you, but you know he wants you to talk about it."So, I kinda had a breakdown about some relationship stuff right now." You guys laughed at the obviousness of it.

"Did you want to talk about it?" He looks at you laying down on his chest, tangling your legs with his, in his shirt, in his pants. God he wished you would-

"Kinda, I don't have to if you don't want me to." He shook his head to the sides and you sighed deeply," I knew you would say that, okay, it's kinda embarrassing if I'm being honest."

He laughed at you, "Nothing could be more awkward and embarrassing for me to listen to than when you told me, in detail, about your crush on Bakugou." You contorted your face in distaste at him and he just kept laughing.

"Bakugou is hot and I stand by all that I said asshole." You shook your head. "But I was very embarrassing."

It got quiet again and you put your face in the crook of his neck. "So, I figured out that I ....fuck okay so...." You move back to face him and stare at him in the eyes. "Don't laugh but I realized I only want a sexual relationship with someone at the moment. I started crying because I felt like I'd been lying to myself and I've just been under a lot of stress lately." Your blush is not less bright than his at all and he can't do anything but avoid your pretty little face looking at him than to push you into his chest and look up at his wonderfully beautiful ceiling he's never had the time to admire before this.

"You could have said that to me without the weird eye contact but whatever, go on."

You laugh hysterically, a little high on your emotions, "Okay hear me out. I'm a hero right? And using a loved one as leverage is a very classic villain plan. So I thought that was why I didn't want a relationship. Now I figured out it's just the stress! I want something like that eventually but right now? I just want something with someone to destress."

You move your head up to look at him and he moves his hand away from the back of your head, his emotions are going haywire right now. What is he supposed to say to that??? Do you want him to find someone for you to hook up with or???? And then he realizes-"I am not setting you up with Bakugou-"

"-OH MY GOD SHUT UP ABOUT IT ALREADY IT WAS A ONE-TIME THING." You shake your head and laugh incredulously at him. "I'm allowed to be attracted to people who aren't good for me okay? Is it really that bad?" Izuku rolls his eyes at you, "Yes. Yes, it is."

You roll your eyes back at him," Whatever that's not what I wanted to ask anyway." you scooch up onto his chest a bit more and put your hands under your chin as you look into his eye with your best pleading face." Would you do me the honor of being my destresser?"

He could explode right now.

Like seriously what?

".....You want me to what now???"

"Would you rather I phrase it differently?"

"To make sure we're on the same page yes-"

"Fuck the stress out of me buff man."

"Jesus Christ." He practically lifts you off of him like a doll,"If you were going to prank me like this," he sets you onto his couch and walks to his bathroom to go wash the heat off his face, "do it over text next time."

You follow him into the bathroom," It's not a prank! I'm for real okay? Look-" he looks puts his head further near the sink, he doesn't want you to see his red face,"-the way I see it is we're both busy as fuck. We both are mature adults looking for something intimate, which you have not found yet may I add, that could both put someone in danger otherwise." He scrubs his face and takes a deep breath, turning his water off and looking at you calmly.

"Okay, first of all, fuck you. Second of all, why me then?" He knows he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth but he's not going to do this if it's just for the fun. He wants to actually mean something to you other than someone to fuck. "You could have chosen any one of our other friends. So why me?"

You grab his hands and lift them to your lips,"Izuku, I care about you so much. You're one of my closest and best friends in the entire world and I am so lucky to have you. You have supported me in any way you possibly could, and I hope that I've done the same for you. So I want us to support each other as much as we need in this." You look him in the eyes," Plus you could snap me in half and are one of the only people I could fight that has the stamina to keep going at me."

".....you're so fucking lucky I like you. Fine! Okay fine."

"YES!"

So for the rest of the night(morning?), you two plan out how this is going to work. Rules, boundaries, kinks (by god he's going to need a break), and what times you guy can and can't.

It works well actually. Better than Izuku expected. He's just ecstatic he gets to finally hold you.......until he doesn't.

Now Izuku knows you two discussed boundaries and the fact you can call each other practically any time but for the next week, he seriously couldn't get the mind power to just swallow his fears and call you up. Not to say he wasn't thinking of you, by god he did that every single day even more since then, he just didn't want to bother you.

But then you called him. It was 11 pm and you were very horny. He picked up the phone and immediately just, "Hello?"

"I need you to plow me into my mattress it's been a week, come over as soon as you can, I'll be waiting sir-"

And that was the end of the call. Your house is like 20 minutes away from his but he somehow made it there in 10. He didn't even text you he was coming, so you thought he was busy.

So you were just on your couch, scrolling on your phone until a rushed knock at the door, you opened it, and were immediately kissed on the mouth.

Just a whole ass surprise makeout, he holds you up in his arms and pushes you against the door. You pull away to breathe and just look down to see this large monster of a man pressing his massive chest to yours, heaving so out of breath like he'd just ran a marathon (he practically did). Just staring up at you so desperately, you're not going to lie it was a nice view. You laugh a bit hysterically as he kisses you repeatedly. Then he works his way to your neck, still holding you up with his arms but fondling your chest and ribcage. He nips your neck and sucks so hard you're sure to have some nice little hickies in the morning. You moan as he pulls on your nipples and rubs your pecs in his hands.

Your mind goes fuzzy as you hear him whisper, "Dirty little slut left me with nothing after your little call. Think it was funny?" He kisses your neck again, licking down to your collar bone, "Think it's funny to leave me with nothing? Just the thought of this dirty little pup begging me to come over?"

You moan into a laugh at the fact he seems more desperate for this than you are. "Laughing now are we?" You immediately quiet down, his hands travel to your waist, and grinds his leg into your crotch.

"Oh gods-" He pushes into you again as you moan,"-f-fuck!"

"Damn puppy. Didn't know you had such a dirty little mouth. Why don't you show me how you use that little mouth when I actually get started with you."

He takes you into your bedroom, pressing your hard dick against his own and sucking on your neck even more.

You pant heavily onto his shoulder shaking from anticipation as he brings you into your room.

He pushes you down on the bed into a folded missionary position. You're hazy and in hysterics, as he talks more, "God, look at you! What a fucking slut for me. Come on puppy look me in the eyes and tell me what you want."

You look up and his smile is devious. It's alluring. He's practically ravishing you with his eyes. He’s taking your clothes off and feeling you up, “Your tastey skin, so smooth and soft. Do you know what I’m gonna do to it puppy?” Your head is swimming with full unbridled warmth and lust, you can’t even respond so he takes your face in his hands and makes you look at him,” I’m gonna mark you up so well, give you all the hickies and bites I want to put on you until you’re barely unbruised. How does that sound?”

You yell out, “Yes! YES! Puppy will be good for you please? Want it so bad.” He laughs at your responses, leaving your naked body vibrating on the bed and he moves away to take his own clothes off. His toned muscles flexing without meaning to as he takes his shirt and pants off of himself. Sliding his boxers down his toned calfs.

You stay laying there, letting out hysteric laughs and panting as he stretches you out with his fingers. And he keeps his promise, biting and niping all over your thights and stomach. You fall from your hysterical high as he pulls his mouth away until he takes your dick in his mouth and you’re pushed all the way back up the hill, arching your back and crying out for him as you grab the head board.

God you haven’t been so sensitive since you don’t even remember when. He’s sucking you off and his fingers are reaching just the right spots in you. Sliding onto his fingers down to the knuckle of his pointer and middle finger, flexing and massaging just the right spot, just until he takes a deep breathe. Then he takes all of you into his mouth and presses down on your most sensitive spot,” OH GOD, FUCK! Yes~ IZUKU PLEASE, I’M CUMMING!”

You cream into his mouth so hard. He pulls himself up off the mattress and off your dick once he finished sucking it all out of you. He licks the rest off his lips and hums in delight,” You taste better then I’ve ever imagined.” Ah, you blush so red as he said this. You think to yourself, he was just saying it for dramatic effect. For the moment! It couldn’t possibly be true....

God if only you knew how true that is from him.

He pulls some of the excess cum off your dick and you shiver a bit at his fingers grazing your tip. His magic hands. And he brings them to lube his dick back up,” Gonna fill my puppy with their own cum, how about it, slut?”

His eyes are crazy, this is a whole new side of Izuku you’ve never seen from him. And by the gods above are you excited to see it.

He presses your legs down so they’re almost flat by your arms and climbs up halfway atop your thighs. He slides himself into you and,” f-f-UCK!” He’s fucking huge.

Your partners have been quite average in the past. Nothing to scoff at but not as big as Izuku. You feel lightheaded as he pushes himself all the way in. “Look at you, my pathetic little puppy, breaking on my dick. Not even halfway there pup, but I’ll be nice this time.” He stops and you thank god and curse at him as well. You feel like you’re gonna be ripped apart yet you still crave so much more.

He gives you a second to catch your breathe, then he leans over, presses your legs farther, and starts pounding into your pretty little hole. Absolutely destroying your insides. You’re crying and whimpering and all it does is drive him to go faster and harder. To milk all those pretty little sounds out of your pretty little mouth. You’re crying on his dick and it fuels his ego,” You’re crying already? God look at you, so pretty and stupid on my dick. Such a good useless pup. Never had dick this good. Are you seeing god or something pup?”

His smirk is returned with teary eyes looking up at him, drooling at him,” Ye-ugh fUck-yes God, love your dick so much.” Oh fuck. That’s new.

It was so hot, imagining you praying and worshipping “your God’s” dick. Izuku being rode by you as you cry out for your God.

He laughs hard and leans down to get a better grip on the sheets, stopping for a moment, and then pounding you into the mattress. It felt like he was trying to hammer you down into the mattress to press you hard enough you’d become one with it. “That’s right baby! Ahaha! You feel so good I’m your god? My little puppy’s so dumb on their god’s dick right?”

You cry out to him, repeating over and over,” God! My God! Please god!” And you cum hard, over and over on his dick for the rest of the night. Orgasming and being fucked through your over sensitivity again and again and again until dawn. He finally gives in after getting his fill of filling you up.

God, he was definitely the right one to go to.

And all Izuku could think about you as he cleaned up and got ready to go to sleep with you was how fucking thankful he was you broke all his boundries for him. And accepting the fact that yes, he is the biggest simp for you.

————

-Laika

#Izuku smut #deku smut #x male reader smut #Deku x male reader smut #Izuku x male reader smut #bnha top izuku smut #bnha top deku smut #top izuku smut #top deku smut #bottom male reader smut

[mailboxmerchant]

BAD DAY

tldr:naib is mfin horny after a match wit u bae n ur both in love with esch other and equally needy but dont knoe‼️

character: Naib Subedar - mercenary

fandom: identity V

warnings: SEX!!! who could have guessed, also rough/dom naib, swearing, power bottom(lmao)/fem reader, perhaps some masochistic type a stuff but not crazy, less goooooooo

(this is like. just horny. no thoughts. only horny)

As sweat beaded down his forehead, you watched Naib angrily smash the keys of a decoding machine. Something was up, but your teammate just never seemed to let on when something had gone wrong. This match was going fine, you had three more ciphers to go, and everyone was still up and going, only two of your teammates being injured. The hunter was struggling to find any of you, and with each of you teamed up with another to decode, you were all feeling confident in a victory to the survivors. So why was Naib so stressed?

“Hey, Naib?”

 “What, y/n?” 

His tone was sharp, and he snapped back instantly. Someone was clearly cranky. What did you even do?

“Are you...feeling okay? You seem...tense.” You kept your tone neutral, preventing there to be any negativity for him to react to. Before he snapped back, he missed a calibration and alerted the hunter of our position. Still not talking, Naib wrapped a braced arm around your waist and made a dive into a pile of cardboard boxes and other various recyclables. “Shut it, y/n. Hunter’s comin’.” 

You went quiet, but still, his commanding attitude could be done without.  You squirmed in Naib’s grip, at which he grunted, and tightened his hold on you. 

He was started to really make you worry. Naib was usually a calm, collected rescuer, who often would be more reassuring when you were being hunted. You promised you’d figure all this out, just maybe after the match ended. 

The danger passed, quite literally, as Hell Ember jaunted around the trash pile you were hiding in. Naib’s grip got even tighter around you as the hunter loomed closer.  “N-Naib, I can’t-” Naib didn’t seem to give a damn for what you had to say as he slapped a hand over your mouth. “I said, quiet.” His tone was worsening, he was really pissed, huh?

You couldn’t deny yourself though, hearing him sound so stern and having him grab at you so suddenly really threw you off. Your ever-so-secret crush on Naib was keeping you from feeling angry about any of this, in fact, you were almost happy to be so close, even if he was being rude. 

Finally though, you decided that you needed to get back to the matter at hand. Leo was gone, and Naib had to let go of you sometime. You made more of an effort to move, and Naib finally dropped you. Quickly, you jumped back on the machine as the Merc slowly crept from the box pile to return to his typing position. “You know, you could have been caught if it weren’t for me.” He sputtered, quieter than before. “Th-thank you...? God, Naib, what’s your issue today?” You spoke more questioningly than upset, hoping he wouldn’t hear the annoyed undertone in your speech. “It’s nothing you’d understand.” 

Alright, you were giving up for the remainder of decoding time.

Silently, you both finished the machine, and you made a break for the opposite direction of Naib. You figured you could have some alone time to just decode, calm down, and prep for the ending leap where you’d have to play a guessing game for which gate Hell Ember would be waiting for you at. 

Taking a break from running, your steps grew light as you began to pace yourself. “y/n!” As you looked through the fog, you discovered that Edgar was awaiting you with a half done machine. “Edgar! You’re here!” You made a quick greeting to the painter before getting back to business. Small talk wasn’t necessary between the two of you, as the ability to decode calmly was leaving both of your skillsets as your heartbeats became slowly more audible. 

“Come on, y/n, we can finish this, just don’t look away from the calibrations. Stay focused.” Edgar gave you a light tap of the palm to your head as he smacked the sides of the cipher. Your pace increased, as did Edgar’s as you had merely a percentage left. Someone else’s machine popped off, and yours a second later. 

Determined and brave, you made off like a bullet towards the southward exit gate. Sneaking around a broken pillar, you sighed at the sight of a clear gate.  Edgar clearly didn’t share the idea that this was the correct gate, so you could only hope he was hiding and waiting it out to escape. Actually, it seemed like everyone picked the wrong-

*SLAM*

A large hand suddenly slapped down on the decoding pad next to yours, frightening the hell out of you. You prepared to meet your doom when you turned around, but instead met a glaring Naib. “N-Naib! Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” “Where’d you run off to earlier!? We were supposed to be decoding together.” 

His tone from earlier was still present, so....clearly he was still peeved about something you did. “W-well I just thought-” “You thought nothin’, y/n. Just keep decoding.” Your crush wasn’t protecting him any more. Letting out an anxious and angry grunt, you turned back around to the coding pad, slamming the rubbery keys down as you decoded. 

So that’s how it was, then, huh? Fine.

“Naib, you’re a real asshole.” You huffed as you finished the gate, and stormed out, not evening looking back to see if he OR Hell Ember were following. 

Once back in the manor, you rushed back to your room, the embarrassment and guilt from your actions following you quickly after. 

Keeping up the angry façade, you slammed your door behind you before running to flop on your bed. Holding your pillow close to your face, you yelled into it, hoping it was enough to choke the sound. 

“Damn it, Naib...”  You closed your eyes, hoping to wake up with a renewed confidence that way you wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of your words.

The sound of three loud, harsh knocks on your door awoke you from your rage nap. 

“OPEN UP! COME ON, I ALREADY KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE, Y/N!!”

Naib? Again? Now what...

You begrudgingly sauntered to your door, cracking it open to peek out. Only, Naib pushed right through your defenses, pushing both you and the door back. “Hey!”

Naib was more forceful than before, walking quickly in your direction, and even quicker, cornering you against your bed. You fell onto your behind as Naib gave you a harsh push. “What is all this?! You’ve been acting weird since we started decoding together in that match, and you’re totally out of line! I didn’t even...do anything...” Your words lost their force as you trailed your eyes downward. So that’s why he was all pent up.

An obvious tent in Naib’s pants was what your eyes met with, and even though your cheeks began to blush furiously, you averted your gaze and tried to pretend that you saw nothing. “J-just get out of my room.” You grumbled, no longer able to keep eye contact. 

“I just came to talk, y/n, don’t throw me out.” Naib shifted his body, effectively pinning you to the plush mattress, a hand on either side of your head. You ‘hmphed’, and curtly turned your face away from him. 

“D-don’t act all pissy,” he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, “you’re making it so much worse!” Your eyes still just couldn’t meet his, the heat between the both of you running down between your legs.  Sliding a knee between your thighs, Naib leaned down to speak gruffly into your ear. 

“This is all your fault, you know.” 

“N-Naib! I-” but your words were quickly vanquished by a pair of warm, slightly chapped lips slamming down on your own. A slight graze of his teeth on your bottom lip gave you more excitement than you’d ever felt in any match, and you immediately parted your lips to feel Naib’s wet tongue slick into your mouth. 

You let out a quiet noise, enough for him to notice. After what felt like an eternity (seconds) of making out, Naib pulled away to hold your face in one hand, squishing your cheeks harshly between his fingers. “So...that’s how you feel, huh?” 

You were flustered, but it wasn’t going to take away what your nap earned you. “You were being so awful in that match, but I still...love you, Naib. I didn’t know when or where to tell you, but if you’re gonna do it first, then by all means...” You gestured to Naib with a smirk. 

Hungrily, Naib practically shredded your clothes off, each of his hands attaching themselves to your chest as he kneaded your soft breasts between his fingers. Your quiet pants were driving him absolutely insane. He loved every little exhale that escaped your mouth, settling to nip and suck at your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Telling you how much he needed this, how long he was waiting for this, how he wanted you.

An abrupt end to the sensations in your chest were replaced by a hand sliding underneath each of your thighs. Lifting them up to his shoulders, Naib quickly unfastened his belt, a look of giddiness flashing across his smug face. 

Diving his head down to meet his forehead to yours, Naib snatched your panties off in seconds, aligning himself painfully slow. As he slid his length slowly into your entrance, you dug your fingers into his hair, which was messily tied into his usual ponytail. Hissing at the feeling of you tugging his hair, Naib pushed all the way inside of you, earning a mewl of both pain and pleasure from you. 

"Ah, but wait..."

You winced as Naib suddenly pulled his length out of your entrance, the emptiness being too much to bear. "I'm an asshole, aren't I?"

He was going to make you eat your words.

Almost literally.

"Get up." His harsh tone was back, but it only served to make you feel hotter than before. Giving a shy nod, you got to your knees as Naib stood at the edge of the bed.

Nervously eying him, you gaped at his length, wishing you didn't say those words before so he could drive you insane with pleasure with it.

Stupid y/n...

"Well?" Tired of waiting, Naib took his hand to the back of your head, pushing you closer to his body, your head colliding with his chest. The sudden wholesome warmth was quickly replaced as he pushed you downwards near his manhood.

You began to comply as you opened your mouth, feeling as he gave a slow first grind into your throat. You choked immediately, but didn't pull away. Not yet.

Breathing quickly through your nose, you began to suck aggressively with no warning, pulling a gasp from the previously snarky Merc.

"Ga-hah! y-y/n...." Pulling off with a 'pop', you went back down to give small kitten licks to the tip of his cock, earning little shifts of position and pants from Naib.

"Stop....stop teasin' me...." was all he could huff out. You slid the entirety of his length in and out for a quick throat fuck a few times, feeling the tears prick at your eyes. In your own way, you were making him pay for being so snide earlier.  “Screw you, y/n. Have it your way.”

Your torture paid off! 

Naib firmly pushed you back down on your stomach, grasping your hips and pulling you close to his own hips. Letting out a satisfied hum, you felt as Naib quickly align himself with your entrance once more.

Giving you no time to readjust again, he fully sheathed himself inside of you, your insides stretching once again to fit him inside. “Hah....shit, Naib.....” You cursed, grasping tightly onto Naib as he pushed you both down, beginning to thrust wildly in and out of you. Every pounding slammed harder against the entrance of your womb, the suction of your warm, wet insides also providing intense pleasure for Naib. 

“Oh fuck, y/n, you’re...so tight...” Naib panted loudly into your ear. Neither of you were even remotely worried about the other manor residents hearing either of your moans racketing off the walls of the creaky residence.

“G-god...I c-can’t...hold on...” You whimpered pathetically as your dug your fingers into Naib’s scalp a second time. As your begging for more became louder, you felt the knot in your stomach grow larger, tighter, and more overwhelming than you’d ever felt before. You could feel Naib’s hard and precise thrusts growing sloppy, and you knew you were both getting close to climax.

  “y/n....y/n....I’m gonna...” Before his sentence could even be finished, Naib’s thick cock twitched harshly inside you as you felt his hot seed pour into you. The spreading warmth was enough to send you over the edge, your juice quickly spilling out to mix with his own. 

Slowly pulling out, your precious mercenary promptly collapsed on top of you, his head coincidentally landing in between your tits. You sighed hazily, riding off your previous high as you wrapped your arms around his head, and slowly letting your eyes close in exhaustion.

a/n: so sorry if theres any typos/grammar-spellin mistakes. i rushed the end bc i had this cued for FOREVER, enjoy babes <3 

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