#and wanted to look at all the patches at once
Text
Betrothed ~ Alpha FireLord Zuko x Omega male reader
Male reader fluff + a little smut! Mdni
Even after his father had been overruled, Zuko couldn't experience true freedom; bound by his duty as firelord
Part of that duty was of course, as an Alpha, to find a mate and continue the lineage of the fire nation
But when the firelord is brought a familiar face by the royal matchmaker, he's put at ease
This is really long for me so I hope u guys enjoy! Icl I don't think it turned out that great T~T
Zuko felt uncomfortable - both physically and emotionally. Physically, the firelord was uncomfortable from the head to toe firelord get-up; his advisors insisting he wears traditional Alphan fire lord clothing to his matchmaking appointment. He was deemed one of the luckiest men in the world, an Alpha born into not only wealth but royalty, but those blessings came with their own limitations. Zuko wanted to choose his partner, he wouldn't care of their secondary gender or status, the alpha just wanted the real love he had been deprived of all his life - and that was the root of his emotional discomfort. But nonetheless, as FireLord, he had a duty to his people and his honor, so Zuko was willing to go through with whatever was about to come.
As the matchmaker walks into the arranged meeting room, Zuko's nerves turn 10 fold - but he, of course, doesn't let that show, a simple chill running up his spine instead. He watches as the evidently Beta woman places down her folder and a packet of scent patches, sneaking a peak at her notes when she opens her folder; many graphs of scent compatibility catch Zuko's eyes along with his profile, clearly this woman takes her job seriously. After the matchmaker introduces herself, she hands out scent patches to any Alphas or Omegas in the room, allowing for Zuko to only be able to smell his soon-to-be mate and as to not overwhelm the Omega - afterwards, the woman starts to give a brief rundown of what will occur. Zuko listens attentively as he fidgets with his fingers beneath the table: the omega will walk in, she will read his brief information, the two will greet and scent each others wrists, if Zuko accepts the Omega then any advisors and herself will leave the room for the two to talk. It felt like the woman was talking forever, the FireLord's heart beating quicker and quicker by the second, but once she finally stopped, Zuko's head snapped to look at the door as the matchmaker stood up to let his future mate into the room. The last thing Zuko expected to see was his childhood friend - you, (y/n) (l/n).
"(Y/n)?!" Zuko stutters out, going to stand up but his advisors easing him to sit back down
"Ah! Zuk-..." you stopped yourself when you saw the matchmakers face, procedures had to be followed to a tee according to her. You make you way to the table Zuko was sat at and bow with grace
"FireLord Zuko, it's an honor"
Holy shit, your voice had such an immense effect on Zuko, the title of FireLord rolling off of your tongue perfectly. You were dressed in traditional clothing, ridiculously adorned with fire nation accessories, the sleeves of your clothing long enough to cover your hands as you nod and bow - you looked enthralling. Zuko had never seen you in this light, his contact with you having been cut before your secondary gender had shown itself, but man, did you really grow into a full Omega. Your scent was surprisingly the last thing the Alpha had noticed, but once he took a note of it, it was all the man could think of; a soft smell of flowers and cotton, it reminded Zuko of the happy portion of his childhood, but most of all it made his inner Alpha flare up like mad. The matchmaker starts to read off your information as you sit down in front of the royal, the both if you fighting smiles.
"(Y/n) of the affluent fire nation family of (L/n). Overall healthy with a blood type and astrological match with the FireLord. Most importantly, a 98% match between their pheromones. His fire bending is passable, but he passed top of his class in fire-healing. He has etiquette training, cooking, cleaning, and even medicinal skills as well as a fertility of 0.7 - one of the highest in the nation."
You cringed at all of your personal, embarrassing details were read off and watched as Zuko's advisors checked off on their little clipboards - but all of your negative emotions vanish when you catch Zuko's eyes, the warm smile on his face putting yoh at ease immediately. His scent was not only calming and anything but overwhelming, but it also felt like it was perfect for you, it was like gold was running through your veins every time you took a breath. The two of you snapped out of your infatuated dazes from the matchmaker coughing to draw attention. Zuko's advisors mumbled amongst themselves and then one whispered to Zuko, which resulted in a smile from the handsome Alpha which was followed by a nod - then, the next thing you knew, Zuko was holding out his wrist.
"May I scent you, (y/n)?" Zuko asked, initiating the scenting with his voice smooth like silk. You immediately agree and rub the scent gland on your wrist against Zuko's, your muscles instantly fully relaxing as his scent sticks to your gland. The two of you watch as all surrounding people leave the two of you alone and sit in a brief silence; that is until Zuko softly breaks it. Usual small talk turns into friendly catching up, Zuko interested in your life after the two of you were forced apart by life - you'd both talked about missing and thinking about each other and how you'd even witnessed Zuko's Agni-kai with his father. Over the half an hour that the two of you talked, your hands slowly crept closer together until Zuko's strong hand had its slender fingers intertwined with yours. Just before his advisors interrupted the two of you, Zuko had asked a question that shocked you
"Do you want to be my mate?"
Zuko knew the two of you had no choice in the matter, but because of his history with you, his previous and current soft-spot for you, he would want anything but to keep you in a forced relationship for his own benefit. After a short silence, a soft nod from you put Zuko's heart at ease; but that peace was only shortly lived until his advisors walked in and had you two follow along, the life of royalty barely giving the Alpha a chance to breathe. The two of you walked behind Zuko's head advisor, his other few trailing behind you both - and even they couldn't help but notice how right you two looked walking next to one another. After being escorted to your new shared bedroom, Zuko's advisors planned to take Zuko away to further discuss your relationship; however a wrench had been thrown into their plans when Zuko immediately disagreed, demanding that a discuss that surrounds you should include you. The way that the Alpha stood up for you made you beam internally, a small smile making its way onto your face, and with no room for argument, you left the room with Zuko and his advisors towards the meeting room. Passing by the throne room, the two of you notice some workers build you a throne as they did for Zuko - those advisors work really quick it seems - the both of you take into account how Zuko's is taller and positioned just a little higher than yous...
"We propose that the wedding happens by the end of the month" the lead advisor begins the discussion. The scene isn't necessarily foreign to you, your father having you sit in on meeting with the previous FireLord in this very room, a large table sits in the middle of the room, Zuko is positioned at the head with you next to him (kneeling in the floor) as his advisors sit at the opposite end.
"Isn't that a little too soon? Can't we have it by the end of the year?" Zuko argues, clearly not wanting to rush a delicate process
"One month is quite generous already, Lord Zuko... You must pull your nation together, a royal wedding is the type of celebration you need - the sooner the better, ten months is far too long" another advisor pops up
"One month isn't even enough time for me to properly court (y/n)" Zuko fights back, a calm demeanor on his face as he looks towards you and smiles
"My Lord, the Omega isn't the priority at this point in time, keep in mind you also need to provide an heir" the main advisor explains
"An heir? I understand the wedding, but the throne will receive an heir when the two of us so wish!" Zuko's tone shifts, clearly offended at the suggestion that your purpose in this marriage is to pop out pups
"Why don't we compromise to five months?" You pipe up, fidgeting with your sleeves as you look at the advisors
A short silence fills the room
"Don't speak during meeting, Omega" one of Zuko's advisors says to break the silence. All of then were thinking it, he was just stupid enough to say it
"I beg your pardon? Leave" Zuko demands, his tone devoid of emotion, and when the advisor protests, one look towards his guards has them remove the advisor from Zuko's meeting room.
"U-Uhm- Five months is acceptable, thank you" the lead advisor acknowledges your point, the first time you'd even been looked in the eyes by one of Zuko's trusted men
After the awkward meeting that surrounded your near and far future, the rest of your day reflected the whirlwind prior, sorting out royal duties and meeting Palace staff. But as the sun began to set and you made your way back to your room, Zuko stopped you
"Yes, my Lord?" You ask, looking up into Zuko's eyes with soft, tired eyes
"Y'know you can just call me Zuko..." the alpha blushes, the title really affecting him only when it came from your soft lips
"Haha... sorry, guess my training really did work" you chuckle
"Hmhm... was it really that intense?" Zuko asks as he starts to walk with you to the royal bedroom
"I mean... if you'd say 4 hours of etiquette training and 3 hours of learning how to please an Alpha a day is intense then yeah" you say with a sly smirk, the sarcasm in your voice evident
"Wow... I didn't even know... I've only ever had the regular royalty lessons" Zuko mumbles, closing the door behind you
"Yeah... even if I come from an affluent family, my secondary gender makes me get treated like a mutt" you say with a smile
"Well I promise you... I won't let that happen around here if I can help it." Zuko says sincerely, holding your hand in his firmly. The sweet gesture makes you blush, your words failing to come out of your mouth; your scent glands running rampant from receiving basic respect for once in your life! After a few minuets of silence, looking into each others eyes while blushing and breathing in each other's scents, Zuko suggests the two of you get to bed. You have to rip your eyes away from the Alpha as he let's his hair down, stripping off his heavy attire to his bare chest.
"Ah! Sorry! I'll step into the bathroom if you need" Zuko says with a worried look on his face as your insane scent snaps him out of his thoughts; your blushed face and eyes fixed on his toned body really giving away that your instincts were taking over.
"No! Sorry! Oh my, I'm so sorry!" You shout, tearing your eyes away and turning around embarrassed. Zuko chuckles and continues to change, but the same ordeal repeats when you begin to change - however, it was even more intense as the Alpha was practically drooling at the sight of your bare skin.
Sleep was very needed after such a chaotic day, and after a chaotic week, and a chaotic month. At some point, Zuko asked for your permission to court you, proposing with the crown given to the FireLord's mate; and of course, you agreed. Life started to seem less chaotic after that. Zuko would shower you with gifts every day and ensure to spend at least 4 hours a day with you, taking you out on dates to prestigious restaurants and on smaller dates in the Palace Gardens; it was enjoyable, it was the secondary school experience the two of you never had, having either been in private tutoring or single gender private school. It was also very evident that the two of you had never had your firsts in everything, of course, because of valid reasons; Zuko had been exiled near the time his secondary gender had come through! And you were under strict orders to stay untouched until you were mated, being collared for most of your life. But still, it was very evident that you two were massive virgins.
Point A: When Zuko proposed to court you with the priceless, beautiful artifact of the Royal family, you hugged him. The way that the Alpha turned red within seconds, his pheromones suffocating you, Zuko desperate to keep you in his touch as he scented you. It was clear that the young FireLord had never had even physical contact with an Omega.
Point B: The first kiss that the two of you shared. On a small picnic date in the gardens of the Palace under the moonlight a month into the alpha courting you, Zuko asked to kiss you. And holy shit when he did, the two of you were inseparable. Your lips were stuck to Zuko's for an entire half an hour, his tongue devouring your mouth as Zuko was taken over by his inner Alpha, pushing you gently to the ground and hovering above you. Your pheromones and his were running rampant, mixing in the air to make a stunning aroma, your moans were music to the Alpha's ears as your stomach did flips just from kissing Zuko. You could feel how hard Zuko was as he was grinding against you, desperate to feel you, desperate to have whatever he's been craving since he presented. Luckily, some guards stopped the two of you from doing anything that would get you into trouble.
Point C: Zuko is only 20, jealously is understandable. So when Sokka paid a visit to the Palace and required you healing after doing something stupid, Zuko had never felt what he felt in those few minutes. You, seeing another Alpha naked, touching his body to heal him with your fire, you'd never done that for Zuko! His pheromones were sour and his chest hurt, and once Sokka made his way to the guest room and you and Zuko to your own room, the Alpha demanded to know if you were infatuated by his water tribe friend. It was so evident that even seeing someone else's naked body was a high level of intimacy to Zuko, and even to you, it was at the time. But after kissing for the whole night, the Alpha's hands roaming your body gently, his jealousy faded away.
Eventually, the two of you made it official, Zuko's advisors already scheduling the wedding for the end of that week. The nation was ecstatic, hundreds of thousands of people either showed up or read about your wedding and mating to the FireLord. And that night, after finally getting permission from his advisors, Zuko set his eyes on marking you...
That night was intense, and it went on for ages, so here's a brief recap:
Once the two of you were basically locked in your bedroom by your advisors, Zuko decided to initiate
He held you against the door, and after gaining permission from you, looked down into your fucking sexy eyes, held your chin up to him and quickly started to kiss you
The Alpha held your waist and you chin, his tongue dominating you along with his insanely powerful and attractive scent
The two of you made your way to the king-sized bed without breaking the kiss once - Zuko on top of you as he undresses you
Once the two of you were naked, all hell broke loose
Your legs were placed onto the Alpha's broad shoulders, his two slender fingers immediately going to your slick-leaking hole
Moans filled the grand room along with a rich aroma of your scent mixed with Zuko's
You had cum already just from Zuko's fingers, and once he had licked up all of your sweet, sterile cum, Zuko aimed his huge Alphan cock at the entrance of your hole
The two of you went at it for what felt like hours, your bodies covered in sweat and scent glands releasing so many pheromones that they were beginning to liquefy and pool by your glands
Your hole had been stretched long ago, taking the shape of Zuko's huge, veiny dick
Eventually, Zuko couldn't hold back anymore, knotting you and cumming in unison with his Omega - the two of you taking the opportunity to fulfill your duty and mark each other
With that out of the way, the two of you spent the rest of the night making passionate love to one another, pleasuring each other in so many ways that your combined orgasm count for the night was 17! Luckily you two are literally built to have shit tons of sex!
And after that night, the two of you couldn't get enough of each other after finally tasting what you had been missing
For now, you were on the most expensive birth control - pills made in the earth kingdom using natural herbs and minerals that are almost 99% effective at keeping you and Zuko from providing an heir a little too early
So with the worries of pups out of the way, you two would go at it like... well... Alpha and Omega
Heats were insane but well spent with Zuko, the Alpha eating you out and fingering you for and hour minimum, making you orgasm plenty of times before satisfying the burn in your stomach with his huge cock
Zuko's ruts were when shit really hit the fan, his advisors would have to leave the palace and have it guarded for the week it lasted - luckily they were more rare than your heats
In summary, your Chambers walls have seen many things: from you worshiping the Alphan firelords body to Zuko letting you, the light of his life his Omega, ride him like a toy without permission to touch you
And in the future, once you two are ready for pups, Zuko can't wait to be the father he never had - and he knows that seeing you as a dad and care for his pups will further awaken something within him he never knew he had before meeting you
#gay#male reader#x male reader#fanfic#fluff#cute gay#gay smut#light smut#avatar the last airbender#zuko#prince zuko#fire lord zuko#zuko x reader#zuko x male reader#omega male reader#omega reader#omegaverse#a/b/o#bottom male reader#male reader smut#bottom reader#x m!reader#atla x reader
435 notes
·
View notes
Text
Foxes II
Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader
Summary: You draw Jenni
One of Jenni's favourite things is a slow day off after a match. She doesn't have to go out. She doesn't have to run or kick a ball no matter how much she loves it.
She can just sit, stretched out on the sofa, typing away at her laptop. You sit squished between her and the back of the sofa, down by her legs where you can rub your fingers on her fuzzy pyjama bottoms.
They match yours and you like that.
They're fluffy and that feels good under your fingers.
Jenni looks down at you fondly. She hadn't gotten you dressed today, content to let you just chill for the day in your favourite pyjamas.
You have major bedhead too but you don't really like the feeling of the hairbrush so Jenni's glad that she had the foresight to braid up your hair last night so it's not a tangled mess and she can go without dragging a brush through it today.
"What do you want for lunch today, Osita?"
You look up at her, brows furrowed in confusion. "Panini," You say.
That's your go-to when Jenni orders in. There's a café nearby that delivers and you've been obsessed with the paninis since you first went in. The workers just adore you there and whenever you go, you come out with a perfect panini and a new fox sticker to add to your collection.
"Mhm," Jenni says," Your normal?"
You nod. Your fox ear headband slips briefly over your eyes and you push it back so you can see Jenni.
"Alright, Osita. Let me up so I can call."
You pout a little when she asks that because she's comfortable and you just want to lay on Mami forever. But you let her up anyway because your normal panini is the best panini in the world and it's the only thing you want to eat today.
You watch Mami go to order the food and you huff, moving to the floor. Your sketchpad and pencils lay there abandoned and you pick them up. Usually, you enjoy drawing the same fox over and over again but today you do something different.
Your pencil scrawls over the paper until a Mami fox and a baby fox appear on your page. You tear it out of your book, slamming your eyes shut at the horrific sound it makes.
It bounces in your ears as you wander over to Mami. She's still on the phone because she's well known at the café and the elderly couple that run it like to talk.
You tug on her pyjama bottoms and she looks down.
"One second...Osita, is something wrong? What's up?"
You hand here your drawing. "Us," You grunt before turning on your heels to return to the sofa where some of your fox toys wait for you.
Jenni watches you go, returning to her conversation before looking down at the picture you've given her. You don't like sharing your work, mainly because after the third time of the same picture, people get bored.
The picture you've drawn this time is different.
It's still clearly of foxes because Jenni knows you'd rather do nothing than draw anything other than a fox. There's a big fox sitting down with a little baby fox next to it. It's a line drawing and not coloured in at all which is a little different than normal but Jenni thinks is sweet.
Your spelling is coming along well though because you've scrawled 'Mami' and 'Me' under each of them so Jenni knows who they are.
She doesn't want to fold up this picture because it's special so she gently tucks it between the pages of a magazine.
The picture circles through Jenni's mind through the next few weeks until she decides on a plan one random evening as you sleep on her chest like you used to do as a baby.
It's a bit spur of the moment but once it's done Jenni can't help but think it's perfect.
"Mami," You say as your babysitter leaves," You're back."
"I am," She says," Can I show you something?"
You nod.
There's very little space on Jenni's arms that isn't heavily tattooed but there's a patch on her inner arm that's just big enough for a Mami fox and a baby fox.
"My drawing..." Tentatively, you reach out to trace your fingers across the tattoo, giggling when Jenni flutters kisses over your face.
At first, she thinks that's it. You're not the biggest fan of touch even from her, at least not skin-to-skin so Jenni's a little surprised when you wiggle up to her chest the next day off.
Most of the time, you stick lower by her legs because you like the feeling of her pyjamas against your face but Jenni welcomes you up higher with her as you try to find a comfortable position.
Your head rests against her collarbone as she types on her laptop, occasionally tilting her head down to give you a kiss.
Your hand reaches out slowly to touch Jenni's skin. You freeze but Jenni doesn't react in any way. A singular finger gently traces over her new tattoo.
Mami put your drawing on her body. Tattoos are forever, you know that and Mami put your drawing on her body forever.
That makes you feel nice.
Of course, the kisses she gives you whenever you complete a full trace of the tattoo is nice too.
512 notes
·
View notes
Text
⋆꙳✧༄ Patching them up after a fight
꒰ ͜͡➸ You patch them up after a fight and put silly bandaids on their wounds just because you can
❖ Characters: Shinichiro, Benkei, Takeomi, Wakasa
❖ Reader: genderneutral
❖ WARNINGS: Mentions of physical fights, wounds and blood, a little suggestive at Takeomi
❖ A/n: I miss writing for TR so much so have this hehe
☰ Shinichiro:
ꕤ Shinichiro comes home a lot of times with random cuts and bruises. Not all of them are from fights, most of them happen while working with the bikes.
ꕤ But the nights he does comes home all bruised and battered, he wants nothing more than to crawl into your arms.
ꕤ He insists that he can take care of his own wounds but he wants you close before and after.
ꕤ He's a man but wounds hurt and he's not afraid to show his pain or even to cry, not caring about if it's considered “unmanly” or whatever.
ꕤ Shin adores you even more when you get the first aid kit out and insist on patching him up despite his initial protests.
ꕤ He feels so bad when you take care of him like that because him getting into fights and ending up as a punching bag should never be your problem.
ꕤ You of course don't mind it, gently dabbing the cotton swab over the cuts to clean them out and Shin doesn't even wince when it burns.
ꕤ His eyes are trained on your face, smiling softly when your brows furrow from concentration or when you pout at a specially nasty wound.
ꕤ Quiet “thank you’s” are mumbled by him when you start applying ointment before looking for band aids and start to snicker to yourself.
ꕤ “Looks like you only have the ones for your siblings left,” you say amused and present him the little dinosaur and pink star bandaids which makes him laugh.
ꕤ “I use these more than they do. Keep forgetting to buy new ones,” he explains amused and picks the green dinosaur ones.
ꕤ Gently you apply them to the few wounds that need a bandaid, a pink star one right on his cheek because you insisted on it.
ꕤ Shinichiro can't help but smile when he looks himself over. It shouldn't be so funny but you somehow took away the pain and tiny dinosaurs litter his skin as you make sure to kiss each and every bruise.
☰ Benkei:
ꕤ Benkei rarely ever needed you to patch him up, usually he would do so before he comes back home and you can only see his knuckles bandaged - the skin probably broke from throwing one too many punches.
ꕤ But this time he came home with a cut right on his nose, his face black and blue along with his almost signature look of busted knuckles.
ꕤ “Benks… let me help you,” you mumble and practically drag him to the bathroom where you force him to sit on the edge of the bathtub.
ꕤ Benkei remained silent, far too tired to protest your tender hands and silently he thanked you for not even asking about any of it.
ꕤ Without further questions you kneeled down and started cleaning his knuckles, a hiss escaping him from the sting but the moment you kissed the back of his hand it was all better.
ꕤ While you wrapped bandages around his big hands he started apologizing to you for causing you trouble but you scolded him for thinking that this is trouble.
ꕤ Once his hands were taken care of you raised to stand between his legs, a frown on your lips when you saw his busted nose.
ꕤ “You know what I told you about cuts on your face,” you started and he only chuckled, knowing you get the hello kitty bandaids out now in hopes he will be more careful next time.
ꕤ His friends tease him to no end about it, but he doesn't mind. He thinks it's cute that you care enough about him to even do this.
ꕤ A bright pink bandaid rested on the bridge of his nose now and you couldn't help the laugh escaping your throat but he followed right behind.
ꕤ “That should be my new daily look, don't you think? I look so dangerous now,” he joked around and pulled you closer for a kiss.
☰ Takeomi:
ꕤ Takeomi never came home when he was vulnerable, not wanting to seem weak around you.
ꕤ But he seemed to have forgotten about the punch he got into his face hours back that left his forehead split open, dried blood staining his forehead and cheek.
ꕤ When he came home you immediately crowded him, not used to seeing your lover like this and cupped his face.
ꕤ “Calm down I'm not dying,” he grumbled and held onto your wrists to remove your hands from his face but you jerked your hands out of his grasp.
ꕤ “Perhaps you're not dying but let me at least clean this up,” you insist and he follows you into the bathroom to sit down on the closed toilet seat.
ꕤ “Only so I won't ruin the sheets with blood,” he lied with a straight face, craving your gentle touch, wanting to be taken care of
ꕤ Ever so gently you cleaned his wound for him, standing between his legs since he always sat with his legs wide open.
ꕤ His hands rested on your butt as you cleaned his wound, a dirty smirk on his lips “I need to. It hurts sooooo bad,” he mused, giving the globes of your ass a squeeze.
ꕤ You knew he was playing around by the way the smirk danced over his lips but you let him, planning your own revenge.
ꕤ Once the wound was cleaned up and the ointment put on you got out the most childish bandaids you could find, little green stripes with glittering duckies.
ꕤ Takeomi didn't even see the bandaid until he looked at your handiwork in the mirror “you're so gonna pay for that, brat,” he chuckled and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom.
☰ Wakasa:
ꕤ Waka rarely ever came home with wounds that needed tending, some bruises at most, if he's been training with Benkei a lot that day.
ꕤ But the few times he did, he didn't bother tending to them, insisting that cuts will heal on their own and bruises fade in a few days.
ꕤ Whenever you caught him with wounds he knew he was done for, protesting against your soft treatment so you learned how to drag him to the bathroom by force.
ꕤ “I'm not some kid. Let me at least do this myself,” he protested and ripped his arm from your grip but you gave him a stern look.
ꕤ “Even Senju acts more mature. Stop acting up,” you fired back, hating how he neglected himself from time to time. He has a big ego but that won't heal wounds.
ꕤ In the end it's a fight of who’s more stubborn and usually you win by either insisting until he gives up or by handing him his fave beer which he drinks grumpy while you tend to him.
ꕤ “You need to be more careful next time,” you scold him as you dab a cotton swab drenched in alcohol over his wounds.
ꕤ There is absolutely no reaction in his face but the way his muscles tense tell you that he's in pain and you frown, not wanting to hurt him.
ꕤ Once you were done, you got the last few bandaids out, one butterfly clip for a deeper cut so it will stay together and cute band aids with pawprints.
ꕤ Waka jerked back upon seeing the rainbow colored band aids “that one, yes,” he points to the butterfly clip and gives the colorful paw print ones a dirty look “and those... don't you dare come near me with them,” he growled out.
ꕤ You had to stifle a laugh at his reaction and opened a light blue one after using the butterfly clip on the big cut, forcing it into his skin while trying to be as gentle as possible. “Just this one... the rest can stay open if you don't put on a shirt,” you cooed and smiled at the light blue pawprints covering a cut.
ꕤ Wakasa glared at you for a moment but knew protest was futile. “At least give my shoulders a massage to make up for this shit,” he mumbled and pointed to the cute band aid decorating his chest.
Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez
#Tokyo Revengers x Reader#Rhy writes ♡#Tokyo Revengers fluff#shinichiro x reader#wakasa x reader#takeomi x reader#benkei x reader#shinichiro fluff#wakasa fluff#takeomi fluff#benkei fluff#black dragons#black dragons x reader#black dragons fluff#tr x reader#tr fluff#tokyo revengers#shinichiro sano#wakasa imaushi#takeomi akashi#keizo arashi
183 notes
·
View notes
Text
cry baby | chapter one
Summary: Cry Baby went on a date? And, it wasn't with Bucky?
Warning: Smoking. Alcohol, tipsy motorcycle driving. DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE KIDS. Crying. Bucky is so toxic but sweet, I'm a fool.
Word Count: 1528
Spotify Playlist
Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
A/N: I speed-wrote this so the posting schedule wasn't out of sync, but ooops hit the post now button too early. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute
Three months passed since that night at your apartment, in that time, the routine had become almost ordinary. It was a pattern, Bucky would show up at your apartment bruised and grazed up, and you would patch him up. Without questioning why or how it happened. The worry still gnawed at the back of your mind.
Summer had settled over the city, warmth wrapping around everything from the streets to the bar. The familiar sounds of laughter and motorcycle engines roaring became clearer as you got closer to the bar. Already late to meet your friends as is, you began to walk a little faster.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the prettiest face in the city,” Rumlow drawled, his eyes raking over your body, making your skin crawl, as you walked passed him and his group of friends to get toward the door of the bar.
“Rumlow,” you acknowledged as you tried to move past him. He stepped in front of you, blocking your path.
“What’s the rush? How about you and I have a little chat?” a smirk tugged at his lips as he began to reach up toward your cheek.
You glanced around, hoping to spot a familiar face that wasn’t loyal to Rumlow, but the street was eerily quiet. “I’m meeting my brother, excuse me.”
He leaned in closer, his hand now reaching your cheek. Gently caressing it as he continued to speak, “I’ve been watching you, you know. I’ve always wondered if you taste as sweet as you look.”
Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, your eyes darting toward anything but his. Unbeknownst to you, Sam Wilson had pulled up outside the bar, just in time to witness the interaction.
Without hesitation, Sam dismounted his motorcycle and strode toward you. “Is there a problem here?” Sam’s words cut through the air like a knife, drawing the attention of both you and Rumlow as he grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket.
A sign of relief escaped your breath at the sight of Sam, grateful for the timely intervention. Rumlow, on the other hand, sized up Sam with a gace before deciding to retreat, bringing his hand up as a show of surrender.
“I’ll see you around,” He said toward you, his tone dripping with implication before he turned back toward his friends.
Same watched his every move, his expression guarded. He turned to you, once he was assured Rumlow wasn’t an issue anymore. “You okay?” he asked, offering a reassuring smile.
You nodded, and the weight of the tension lifted. “Thanks, Sam.” Same returned the nod, giving the area another look around before leading you into the bar. His protective instincts were still alert.
Inside, the rest of the group noticed as both you and Sam walked through the door. You all exchanged greetings as you slid into the booth next to Bucky. The scent of your vanilla perfume mixed with the smell of smoke and beer, a combination that had become comforting to him.
As you settled into the booth, Bucky rested his arm over the back of the booth behind your head. “Took you long enough,” Natasha gestured her bottle toward you before taking a quick sip. “The date went that well, did it?” She couldn’t resist making a joke at your expense.
Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of a date, his jaw clenched as your cheeks rushed with heat. “A date, huh?” he remarked, sarcasm laced in his tone.
You began fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “Um, yeah…” you mumbled, trying to avoid the gazes of your friends and especially your brother.
Before you could dwell anymore on it, Steve redirected the conversation, but the sense of Bucky’s fist clenching not far from your head made the unease linger.
Throughout the night, you found yourself stealing glances at Sam, unsure of how to navigate the aftermath of the situation outside. You began replaying his words in your mind, causing your emotions to get the better of you.
Bucky sensed your sudden quietness, catching one of your sniffles. “What now?” he mumbled, only loud enough for you to hear.
“Just ran into someone outside,” you sniffled again, glancing back at Bucky with tears in your eyes. “It’s fine now,” you shot him an unconvincing smile.
“Yeah,” he began as he picked up his bottle, “looks like it.” he glanced back down at you as he took a swig.
~
As you stepped outside, you watched as your friends began to retrieve their motorcycles, getting ready to leave. The six of you began mumbling goodnights to each other, you telling each of them to drive safely, as Bucky stood watching by his motorcycle. He offered you a tentative smile and gestured toward the helmet on his seat. “Need a ride?”
You nodded, and he passed you the helmet as you climbed onto the back. The ride was exhilarating, wind whipped through the stray strand of your head as you clung to Bucky’s waist.
“Thank you, Bucky,” you said softly as you dismounted after he turned off the engine outside your apartment building.
“Anytime, Sweetheart,” he paused before he turned to face you, his expression serious. “Can we talk for a minute?” he asked, his eyes searching yours as you passed him the helmet back. A knot formed in your stomach, and you nodded sheepishly. “I hope your date went well.”
You shifted uncomfortably, feeling self-conscious you pulled your cardigan further around you. “Um, yeah, it was okay,” you mumbled, trying to avoid his gaze.
He began to chuckle softly, sensing your nervousness. “Just okay? Wow, sounds thrilling,” he remarked with a sarcastic tone.
You managed a weak smile, his teasing making you feel more embarrassed. “Um, well, it was our second date,” you admitted shyly, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “He asked for a third,”
Bucky’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but the playful smirk never left his lips. “Oh, did he?” an amused tone in his response. “Looks like you made quite an impression then,” he continued, his tone was still playful but yet, intrigued. “Is it Sam?” he questioned.
Your head shot up to meet his gaze, and confusion spread across your features. “What? No, it’s, um, well it’s,” you paused, your nervousness causing you to hesitate. “It’s a guy from work, John Walk-,”
Bucky’s playful demeanor vanished in an instant, anger replacing the simmer in his eyes. His jaw tensed, and his eyes narrowed into a hard glare as he processed what you admitted.
“John Walker?” Bucky’s voice was low, a dangerous growl, the name left a sour taste in his mouth.
You nodded, “Yeah, um, he’s just a guy from work,” you hesitantly replied, thrown off-guard by Bucky’s transformation.
“That son of a…” his voice trailed off, the words barely contained his fury. His anger seemed to intensify, his voice rising in volume as he continued venting his frustration toward you. “I can’t believe you’d even consider going near him!” he bellowed, words echoing through the empty street.
You flinched at the force of his outburst, each word felt like it was a physical blow. “Bucky…” your voice quivering with emotion.
His features contorted in anger as he continued, “You don’t understand!” He was consumed by his rage, causing it almost impossible for you to hear your voice asking him to stop. “He’s dangerous, he’s… he’s not someone you want to be involved with!”
Each word began to cut deeper than the last, leaving you feeling vulnerable, the tears spilled down your face. “Please, Bucky,” you shouted back at him, your voice rising in desperation, “stop shouting at me!”
Your raised voice caught Bucky off guard, his anger faltering the moment he finally looked down at you. At that moment, he saw the tears, the fear, and the hurt. The realization that he had caused it, hit him like a punch to the gut.
Bucky let out a heavy sigh as his features softened, the red lights in his eyes dimming as he reached down to gently wipe your soaked cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, every part of him filled with regret, “I… I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Sh-shouting at m-me like th-that doesn’t hel-help,” your voice shaky, and interrupted by hiccups. His gaze truly softened as he took in your words.
With that, he pulled you into a comforting hug, holding you close as you both took a moment to calm down.
“Let’s get you inside, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his voice now barely a whisper as he felt your shaking subside. You nodded, sniffling as you pulled back from him.
That night, you both walked up to your apartment, and Bucky kept a protective arm around you. Once inside, you realized tonight would be different. Usually, you’d make your way to the kitchen and begin patching up his wounds.
“Let me take care of you for a change,” he said, leading you toward your couch. He fetched a warm face cloth and gently wiped away the tear stains on your cheeks. You leaned into his comforting touch, a new sense of safety enveloping you.
---
Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
#cry baby series#cry baby#bucky barnes x cry baby#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky fanfic#james bucky barnes#bucky fic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#biker au#biker!bucky
197 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii! Hope you’re doing well :3! Could I request like basic relationship headcanons with Kabru, Chilchuck, and Laios? If not that’s totally fine! Hope you have a good day! :D
You got it, boss!
Kabru of Utaya
I've covered this before in other posts, but his eye for details when it comes to people is going to be used on you. He has a internal list of things you love and things that you hate, and often references it over the course of the relationship.
The only way that he cleans his room is if you're coming over. He'll ask you to return with him on a whim, and then realizes that 'oh shit, I can't have them see this,' and once you get back, he tries to make a distraction, or just asks you to hang out in the hallway as he struggles to stuff all of the shit on the floor under every piece of furniture he can. His landlord finds this endlessly amusing, and knows when you're coming over because Kabru is frantically trying to clean - he helps to give Kabru some pointers.
Loves to surprise you with things you mention in passing, a necklace or bracelet that you saw in a nearby stall, taking you out to a fancy place that you mentioned wanting to go to dinner, or even just something that you need that he noticed. Stuff like a new whetstone, a repair for your armor, anything like that.
He's not the biggest on embraces, but this is a man who loves to cuddle when the two of you are in bed. He absolutely enjoys wrapping his hands around you, either having you curling into his neck, or with your back slotted neatly against him. He always plays with your hands, linking your fingers together. He actually gets to the point that he can't sleep easily unless he at least has some part of his body touching yours.
Cup his face before kissing him, stare into his eyes and tell him something along the lines of 'I love the color of your eyes' and just watch him melt. He used to be self-conscious and hate his eyes, though it's something he's outgrown over the years, but he still loves to hear it come from your lips.
Chilchuck Tims
His love language is admonishing you - sorry not sorry. He's very much the kind of person that if he is barking at you while patching you up, or while trying to help you, that he cares deeply about you. He yells because he cares, if he didn't, he wouldn't say a word.
Before you get into a relationship, he's absolutely going to bring up his past, at least in some capacity. Even if it's part of his sordid past, you deserve to know. He promises that he's changed, but he also knows that the only way to prove that is through his actions.
Speaking of, he does want you to meet his daughters. He's not ashamed of them - quite the opposite, he loves them dearly, and he doesn't want to feel like he's hiding them from you, or you from them. Though, there's not enough words in the common language to express how relieved he is when his daughters like you.
Even though he hates interpersonal relationships in groups, he also starts to outgrow that in bits and pieces. While on the job, he's going to be a bit more aloof, though he absolutely will indulge a handhold, and will only marginally shoo you away when you press a little peck to his cheek or temple.
Though, whenever you take breaks, he's definitely more receptive to any open displays of affection, and will even come to you to initiate. Especially if you're sitting, he'll come up to you and cup your face, making you look up at him - which is something that he loves way too much to be healthy. He's used to people looking down towards him, so being able to tip your head up? It's like a drug for him.
He knows that he's a walking space heater, and anticipates you setting your bedroll beside his own. He'll open up his blanket and grouse until you settle down, sighing out and finally snuggling up to you. Whether you like to be the big spoon or the little spoon, he enjoys the casual closeness. Though, his favorite is if you're bigger than him - being the big spoon, or more aptly, your jetpack.
Laios Touden
Being able to share meals made up of meal parts is a dream come true for him. He might pout occasionally if you are unsure about whatever y'all are eating. But, whenever he can, if there's something that you genuinely liked - then he's more than willing to share with you! I like to think that sharing food or cooking it with him is a love language of his.
If you're willing to listen to him constantly rambling about his hyperfixation on monsters, he'll continue on excitedly before he'll cut himself off, stumbling over his words and apologizing. Please - please, please, please, reassure him, even if you just tell him, 'I might not fully understand, but I just like listening to you.' You'll have his heart immediately, looking at you so softly and wrapping you up in a hug and thanking you. He knows sometimes he can get carried away, but knowing that you value his joy even if you don't fully agree, it warms his heart.
I like to think that rather than defaulting to kisses for showing affection, that he head bonks. You know how cats do the bunting? Yeah, that. He'll come up to you while you're doing something mundane and just bonk his head against yours. Sometimes it's a little too harsh, but that's just how much he loves you.
Above anything else, he wants you to meet his sister. While he may not be able to, nor want, to take you home to his parents - he does want you to meet the family that he cares about most. He'll share stories about Falin, things they did when they were younger, or when they were gold strippers, though sometimes he cuts himself off when he feels overwhelmed with what has happened to his sister.
He's a sprawler when he sleeps, usually on his back - pulls the full starfish. So, if you want to cuddle, you'll have to sleep in the crook of his arm, where he'll close his arm to bring you closer to him. Sleeping on the rise and fall of his chest, hearing his thumping heart skip a beat every time that you rest your head there. When he wakes up first, he can't find it in himself to wake you, craning his head awkwardly to watch your sleeping form with the softest smile on his face.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi reader#delicious in dungeon reader#x reader#headcanons#hcs#dungeon meshi headcanons#delicious in dungeon headcanons#kabru of utaya#chilchuck tims#laios touden
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
batfam au where bruce gave up the batman costume when he became dick's dad, because he was mentally sane enough to realise that an actual child should not be fighting actual murders.
and the world carried on.
batman becomes a folktale, something that parents use to get their children to sleep, and something that every thug thinks about when the night just a little too quiet and things are going a little too well.
occasionally, some angsty teenager or some bitter man will make their own costume, and try to be batman. and it makes headlines, it keeps criminals in check. but these New Batmen never carry that mantle for very long.
Jason, Tim, Damian, Cass, Steph, Babs, Duke, everyone. They are never found, they are never rescued, they are never born. the villains never become villains. the joker disappears
sometimes, Alfred gets this feeling that there's someone missing, multiple someones, but he doesn't even know who. he mourns a family he's never had, and holds space for someone that he never knew.
but the world carries on
this all changes when two things happen very, very quickly.
One, some scrappy teenager flies to Ethiopia, looking for a mother he didn't even know and drops of the grid. completely unrelated to this teenager, a warehouse explodes
Two, dick starts poking around the manor, accidentally stumbling upon the remains of his father's past-- is father is Batman. was batman. and dick doesn't really know what to do with that information. so he does the only logical thing and tries to become the actual Batman.
At first, he tries to be batman without any training and immediately gets his ass handed to him. And, while he's dragging his broken body to the cave, he sees Alfred. Alfred, who patches him up and tells him that, if he's going to be batman, he needs to go back to the classics.
he needs to tell bruce.
he needs to tell bruce, or bruce is going to figure it out for himself. he isn't the worlds greatest detective for nothing, and it's better to tell him sooner rather than later.
when dick tells bruce, bruce... doesn't know what to think. he doesn't want his son -his precious son- to go out fighting the one-man war that he'd once tried to fight. but he also knows that there's probably nothing that he can do to stop dick.
the best way for Bruce to protect who he loves is to teach him how to fight. how to actually fight.
and so he does.
he trains Dick with everything that he knows. teaches him with the intensity and the drive that canon Bruce taught Tim. He will not lose his son, he will not let dick lose the one-man war. and he will not let his past as Batman be the thing that tears his family apart.
The Batman returns to the streets of Gotham. Criminal activity is at an all time low. the people who would have become villains have already moved on with their lives.
so the world carries on, bringing Batman with it.
end of part one (because this has been rotting in my drafts and I need to post this now or ill forget again)
#batman#batfam#au#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#alfred pennyworth#bruce wayne#dc comics#batman au#red hood#the joker#i’ve been thinking about this all day#all week really#I have a million individual scenes all playing out in my head that I fantasize about whenever I'm bored and have nothing to do#hurt/comfort#fanfic#fanficion
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
delirium
(n) a sudden and serious change in mental abilities that causes confusion and reduced awareness of the surroundings.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: delirium (as the name suggests), a bit boring?
ghost is sick, and he was shot on his side, causing alot of blood to spill out.
however.
there was one problem.
the radio was broken, reader accidentally dropped the radio somewhere around her run, and since ghost was shot at the moment- she had no choice but leaved the radio (she didnt know where it was, and the two was being shot at) and recused ghost.
she cursed herself for dropping the radio, but she just couldn't help but flinced when she heard ghost lets out a pained grunt.
thankfully, ghost was awake at the time, so reader didn't have to carry him- correction: she couldn't carry him, she's not that strong.. so ghost limping, but reader trying her best to make him walk, they both went somewhere.
they're safe. for now, and when they got to a safe location, she patched up ghost to the best of her ability.
ghost, passed out behind her, and the two is in an abandoned barn. ghost been passed out for, 20 minutes now? she thinks.
she makes sure to stand watch, and also making sure to check other windows to make sure no one is sneaking up on the other side.
she hears a shuffle, and immediately turns, her gun pointing at the noise.
false alarm.
its just ghost moving, but just incase- she did a quick scan over in the building.
she moves towards the injured lieutenant, but then moves to the side slightly to pick up an uncapped water bottle, almost full.
handing ghost the bottle dutifully. he takes it, lift his mask slightly above the nose, drains it in entirety (reader watches with bug-eyes), then passes out again. she could tell because his head just lopsided, and his hand that held the bottle just fell to his side, releasing the bottle in the process.
she watches the bottle slides somewhere, her eyebrows arched in amazement.
"...well." she says, staring at him, "he was definitely thirsty."
looking out the window, its starting to get a bit dark outside. she sighs, hoping no one- well, she hopes their team finds them, but she certainly didn't want any enemies to find them, capture or kill them.
that didn't sound too ... good.
she giggles a bit when she leans in and down a bit to lower ghost's mask.
—
the next time ghost wakes up, its in the middle of the night.
its not hard to miss, when reader is watching outside the window. he jolts up like someone just shocked him, suddenly breathing erratically, and she nearly drops her weapon in an effort to get to his side and makes sure he doesn't ruin the stiches she made.
"hey! its me—reader!" she drops the weapon, raising her hands to show she means no harm as she quickly approaches. ghost's head snaps up to her, then stares.
reader experienced him in this state (usually happens when he get nightmares) plenty of time, enough to know to what to do.
when he doesn't do anything, reader motions for him to stay where he is and grabs any water bottle in her backpack.
like before, ghost downs it greedily, only giving it once the bottle is sucked dry. and after that, he lowers his mask this time. she takes it gently away from him.
"you must be thirsty," a weak smile makes their way onto her face.
nothing, and the silence made her laugh nervously, haha..
"Haw aa ya feelin'?" she asks him.
moment went by, and ghost is still staring at her. making reader go uneasy.
whats even more uneasy is..
ghost who is jumpier than both her and the entire army combined; ghost who stays up all night with twitchy hands; ghost who scarfed down anything they gave him without preference or complaint like he was starving; ghost who was so goddamn weird that it made her head hurt.
the masked man felt untouchable— a phantom, a ghost.
ghost was painfully palpable to the point where even he seemed surprised when someone else would touch him. as if he thought they would just phase right through him somehow.
really, seeing him injured and hurting felt impossible. like reader had forgotten that under that mask of his, he was just some regular guy that could get shot and pass out as much as she or gaz-- price-- or the entire army could.
it confused her more than anything.
and she can't tell if ghost is processing anything. even with the mask on, he seems dazed. not all there and struggling to process what reader is saying at all.
then abruptly, he jerks forward and grabs one of reader's wrist. she freezes but ghost didn't pay much attention to that, instead looking at her very seriously - or at least, it feels like he is.
then he surprises her by speaking.
"not safe here," ghost's voice is strangled and cracks, but he forces the words out urgently. "you need to run- leave me- you need to get out of here-- makarov!"
its the mention of makarov that has reader catching on. she cuts ghost before he gets hysterical. "we're not there anymore- we moved to a different place! we're safe, i promise."
an empty promise, but she hopes ghost'll calm down.
its hard to get a read on him without seeing his expression. reader thinks that was purposeful, but his grip on her does go slack in disbelief.
"its fine," she continues, because the last thing either of them needs is him freaking out like a madman. "makarov, he's not here. its safe."
she thinks he believes her. she goes to pull away, but then ghost tugs him back, less urgent but still insistent.
she frowns but ghost ignores her. his head drifting down to look at her hands. when reader tries to move again, not only is she pulled back but ghost's grip is tightened. not painful but it certainly catches her attention.
ghost shifts, audibly wincing at first but seems to make room like he wants reader to shift next to him. this fact is confirmed when he tugs reader's wrist again, pulling her closer.
curious, she complies. she carefully settles in the now empty spot next to ghost, unsure of what exactly he wants.
it feels uncomfortable, leaning on this wooden pole.
ghost finally lets go but moves hastily like he thinks he’s on some sort of time limit. one of his gloves is tugged off revealing a pale hand underneath, then said hand quickly grabs reader's wrist again.
skin touches skin and ghost's breath hitches but he seems focused on something else. two fingers are pressed against reader's wrist, and after a moment, reader realizes that he’s checking her pulse.
she looks up, her eyes landing on ghost's mask. then it went down to look at ghost's ungloved hand.
she never really saw his hand before, despite knowing eachother for months.
this is the first time she saw something of his skin.
she doesn't understand why he is doing this, but it seems to calm him down slightly so she doesn't make any objections.
"alive." ghost rasps. he seems to be mostly talking to himself.
okay.. so he thinks she was dead? "yes, i'm alive." she confirms.
his head jerks up, looking around wildly, "roach—! soap—!"
she stares at him confusingly, brows furrowed. roach? soap? who the-
ghost starts to get up, making her panick and blurt out some words. "they're fine! they are just.. just picking some things." audible gulps came from her.
his hand curls around reader's wrist again, almost… protectively? “makarovl won’t toch you— i swear it.”
“there’s no danger—” she tries but ghost cuts her off.
“can’t risk it. you can’t die.” His tone sounds desperate now.
she nods absentminddly, she never knew ghost.. ghost would act or behave, or even talk like this. seems way out of his character, what is going on?
"okay, okay.." she relents. "ill stay here.. not. going anywhere.."
ghost seems to melt with relief and presses against reader's side like he’s afraid she's suddenly going to disappear on him. which is weird because reader was under the impression that ghost actively didn’t like being touched from how he flinched at so much as someone brushing up against him but now he seems almost… content? is that the right word here?
“uh.” she says, because what else is she supposed to say?
moments passes.
and the next words suprised her.
"fix it." he breathes out, moving closer to her. like he's about to lean her head against her chest.
"fix what?" she asks.
"me."
and that made her quiet, but ghost didn't mind. that was evident as he fell asleep.
—
she hears doors opening, which caused her to try and get out of ghost's grasp, whose grip becomes even tighter.
"ghost- let me go-" she whispers as quietly as she can, keeping her eyes on the door. now she's not trying to get out- but get her gun thats laying in front of her.
ghost mumbles something incoherently, can't care about this now- she grips the gun, held it correctly and aims it at the door.
fuck- get off me ghost!
and to her relief, she sees captain price going through the door. not some enemies.
how did they find them?
"price—!" and when price immediately turns to the two, her heart jumps and she splutters, "blue! blue!"
that seems to get price to slightly lower his gun, looking at them with widen eyes, specifically at ghost.
the man in question has his head pressed against reader's chest, and is sprawled out on top of her, his arms seem tightly wound around reader's torso.
"is he fucking cuddling you?" price blurts out the second his thoughts catches up to him. he shuts the door behind him at last, and makes his way over to them like he can't believe his eyes.
"uh, yeah. i think so?" she laughs quietly, looking down at ghost. "he kinda just did that. on his own." after a pause, she adds, "he's really out of it."
“yeah, I kinda figured that part out.” price can’t suppress a laugh. “this feels like a fever dream.”
"mmm." is what she responds.
and ever since ghost got better, he been avoiding reader like a plague.
thanks price, for telling him and the whole damn team! she groans internally in her mind, fuckin' price can't keep a damn secret.
and worse is.. task force 141 thinks they're in a relationship or somethin'..
A.N i gave up on pervert könig, there were hardly any details about him, and i dont know what to search up on youtube because its all.. edits, not him. so, i cant find any ideas for him, sorry guys.
#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#task force 141#price cod#john price#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#call of duty modern warfare#mentions of#john soap mactavish#gary roach sanderson#roach cod#soap cod#simon riley x reader#ghost cod#ghost fanfic#ghost fanfiction#ghost
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
let me useful, let me be used (COD Mermay)
Coral Reef Mer Soap x Deep Sea Mer Ghost, size difference, bottom Ghost, NSFW/lemon
“Easy now,” Simon rumbles beneath him, his voice better felt than heard. His hands span the side of Johnny’s torso, the webbing between his splayed fingers not even fully extended, brushing against the underside of Johnny’s arm as he squirms, trying to reclaim his perch. If Simon had been shaped more like the outcropping he could be mistaken for in the dim light, it would be easy enough for Johnny to press himself close and work his hand down to the soft slit in his fin, squeeze his fingers into himself alongside the length of his cocks and pretend that he is finally being filled.
As it is, Simon is huge. All over.
Johnny’s eyes snap open, a snarl of frustration tearing through him, his teeth bared as he slams his hands forward onto Simon’s torso. It’s like he’s hitting a mountain, some vast volcanic structure given shape and breath and sent out into the world for Johnny to find and fuck and love with every scrap of himself. Simon laughs, not unkindly, not sweetly, a bubbling exhalation that rushes away from them both. Johnny tips himself forwards, biting at one of the bubbles. It tastes like salt, clinging to Johnny’s tongue as he swallows it down, and he blinks once, twice, trying to pull his thoughts back into line. It’s difficult with Simon so close to him to concentrate on anything else, but he tries.
Simon lies beneath him, belly up, ripe for devouring. Johnny could tear him open, bite through skin and muscle and expose the pale sheen of bone, the rich yellow of fat, every dark squirming organ that he could feast on. Johnny drags his fingers over over the paler markings that trace the ridges of Simon’s ribs, the smooth passage interrupted by a network of heavy scars that rip through the flutter of his gills. He pushes himself up slightly, the water that rushes into the space between them cool against his overheated skin, and tips his head forward to stare down the length of himself. His cocks have spilled out of his slit, glowing the same pale sheen as the liquid that oozes from him, the patches burnt over the brighter colours of his tail, and a strand stretches between himself and Simon, keeping them joined. Simon is a dark shape beneath him, his tail curving down into the deep water, and Johnny settles back into place with a huff.
Simon looks impossibly fond, his mouth curved into a small uneven smile, one corner drawn up permanently by a heavy scar carved through his skin.
“You’re too fuckin’ big,” Johnny grumbles. He crawls up Simon’s torso, still held gently in place, Simon’s fingers meeting in the valley of his spine, before he leans down to kiss him. His tongue presses against the edge of one of Simon’s fangs, long and curved and sharp enough for blood to bead at the surface, before he licks over Simon’s tongue.
“Sorry,” Simon offers into the scant space between them. He looks anything but sorry, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth smeared with Johnny’s blood. Johnny snarls something wordless in answer, his gills flaring in an instinctive attempt to make himself seem bigger, more of a threat. He pushes himself upright, his hands splayed on the expanse of Simon’s chest before he slides them sideways, down, pinching the edge of a gill between his claws. Simon groans, a quake rumbling through Johnny, and his grip tightens on Johnny’s waist. He wants it to bruise, to go back to the sunlight and the colour of the reef with a reminder of Simon’s touch, his teeth.
Johnny grins down at him, releasing Simon’s gill before he presses his fingers inside, barely breaching the soft flesh as Simon stills beneath him. He’s weak here, soft beneath Johnny’s touch and he doesn’t move, letting Johnny feel the tremble of his muscles beneath the worn pads of his fingers, the reflexive hitch to his breathing as Johnny’s claws curl. He could tear him open here as easily as he could from his perch further down and Simon would let him all the same.
“You’d just lay there and let me eat you, wouldn’t ye,” Johnny murmurs, more to himself than to Simon, but the grip on his waist tightens in silent confirmation, not pulling him away but holding him close. His grin to Simon doesn’t fit quite right, too many teeth to be anything other than starving , but he hopes the love still shines through the cracks.
Simon’s thumb traces down the length of Johnny’s spine, curling to allow his claw to eke out a path where skin cannot. “Please.” The unspoken ‘let me be useful, let me be used’ echoes through Johnny like a scream, a hunting shrill that ignites fresh desire in his belly, and he lowers himself to kiss Simon’s gills, pressing the outline of his teeth into them through his barely closed lips.
There’s no time to waste. Johnny returns to his perch, crooking his fingers into the soaked edge of his slit. His cocks had retracted slightly as his focus had wavered and Johnny’s hips roll, fucking himself onto his fingers, onto the slight indentation in Simon’s fin, chasing a bliss he’s only ever grasped the edges of. Johnny’s tail knocks against the side of Simon’s as the other man shifts, powerful muscles contracting and relaxing once more.
“You good, Si? Still got me?”
“Still got you.”
Everything feels too warm like he’s swam too close to a thermal vent, his bones suddenly present in his flesh and dragging him down to be devoured. Johnny works his fingers further inside himself, too full from the wrong angle so he turns his head to bite at the curve of his shoulder just to feel something solid against the ache in his gums. Simon clicks his tongue, the sound akin to a thunderclap from this close, and Johnny stops, his cocks clutched in one desperate fist, the other thumbing at the soft give of Simon’s slit, copper on his tongue and bone scraping against his teeth.
“Here.” One of Simon’s hands leaves Johnny’s side, moving up his back, his fingers curling over Johnny’s shoulder to prod at the seam of his lips. An offering of flesh and bone while Johnny prepares a dedication of his own, and one Johnny would gladly accept. He opens his mouth, releasing his own bruised and bloody flesh to sink his teeth into Simon’s hand. His flesh is thicker, better suited for depths that Johnny can only skirt the edges of, fat and muscle lying in plentiful supply for the press of Johnny’s hunger, and Simon’s blood is rich, oxygen-full and heady. Johnny groans, his fingers spasming inside himself as his cocks work free against the intrusion with a gush of fluid.
Mouthing at Simon’s hand, Johnny turns his attention downwards once more. Simon’s slit is a pale stripe over the swell of his belly, well-fed and well-defined and something burrows into the hollowed out cavity in Johnny’s chest at the sight of it. All because of him, all because he coaxed Simon up from the depths and damn near killed himself in the process, forcing his lungs to remain inflated as the pressure threatened to cave in his ribs. He loves Simon enough to tear the world into bloody pieces just to keep him content, his own flesh is a minor deterrent.
Simon’s tail flicks once more, keeping them both buoyant, and Johnny moves in kind, swaying as the water pushes against him. He shuffles up Simon’s form, working his jaw over the intrusion of Simon’s fingers before he swipes his tongue over the membrane between them, folded to fit into Johnny’s mouth. “Ready, Si?” Johnny asks, his voice muffled but no less focused.
Another wave of water as Simon shifts, stronger this time before he settles back into desperate compliance. “Yeah. Fuck me, Johnny.”
Well, when Simon puts it so sweetly, how could Johnny deny them both even a second longer?
Simon’s cocks are still encased inside his slit, but encouraging them out isn’t the goal here. Johnny wraps one hand around his cocks, holding them both together as his hips roll reflexively, soaking his palm with a further gush of fluid. With his other hand, he reaches for Simon’s slit once more. It parts beneath his fingers, holding him close, squeezing the single digit he presses inside before he withdraws. Fucking his fingers in deeper, Johnny brushes over the twitching walls, muscles speared open and exposed from the wrong side. His skin feels too tight, stretched thin over bones woven together with something as fragile as a thought, and Johnny sets his teeth against the furrows already bitten into Simon’s flesh. It would scar, he’d make sure of it. He grinds his jaw before he releases his cocks, drawing Simon’s hand free and placing it on his hip. The marks of Johnny’s teeth are clear, the flesh beneath paler before blood beads along the surface.
Focusing back on Simon, pushing deeper, there’s the heft of Simon’s cocks, solid even while tucked away, the distant pulse of Simon’s heart radiating through them. Johnny retreats, his fingers coated with slick and shining. He spreads his fingers, a strand of liquid thicker than the water around them suspended over the webbing before it snaps, and Simon groans, his head falling back for an instant before he’s staring once more. The luminescence from Johnny’s markings, normally barely visible when he’s on the reef, flares bright as he lines up his cocks with the soft give of Simon’s slits.
“Last chance to bail, Si,” Johnny murmurs, his voice half-ruined already, and he is never going to be the same after this, reforged, remade by the soft smile Simon gives him, lopsided and beautiful all the same.
Simon shakes his head, his gaze never straying from Johnny. This is what it must feel like to be devoured, the never-wavering focus and the mouthful of teeth drawing nearer. Simon folds himself in half to kiss Johnny, holding him in place as his tail dips down to keep them both level, careful of his teeth that Johnny is intent on bloodying himself on. Johnny swings his tail, his fins slapping against the bulk of Simon’s as he whines, wordless, the sound swallowed up by Simon as he holds Johnny still. Simon draws back slightly, pressing his forehead to Johnny’s. His eyes are blown wide, dark and reflecting the sheen of Johnny’s markings, the open-mouthed gasp he wears, the flush burning over his cheeks. “Look,” Simon murmurs, inclining his head downwards and Johnny obeys.
Using the hold he has on Johnny’s hip, one hand planted on the curve of his back, Simon draws Johnny’s cocks against his slit, fucking Johnny against him. Johnny groans, curling forwards as if he’d been stabbed, the warm-wet-soft sensation pooling in the pit of his stomach. Breathing through the bared gaps in his teeth, Johnny rolls his hips once more, dragging his cocks before pausing where his finger had been. The difference feels obscene, comparing the size of his finger to his cocks, and Johnny presses forwards, the head of his lower cock pressing inside.
It’s so much.
Too much.
Johnny bites his tongue, tears a chunk free and swallows it, claws at his belly like he can hold back a tidal wave with nothing more than his hands. Simon is surrounding him, consuming him utterly, and Johnny can’t look away, the water fogging with his blood, as his cock presses into Simon, first one, and then the other. He doesn’t press far, can’t with the heft of Simon’s cocks just beneath him, but he can thrust against them, coaxing Simon open further. It’s a long moment before Johnny can look up at Simon, still pressed against him.
There’s fresh lines carved into Johnny’s hip, a matching set over his ribs where Simon’s grip had tightened. Simon’s mouth is pressed shut, his teeth hidden behind the fragile seams of his lips, and his eyes are open, locked onto the press of Johnny’s cocks into him.
“How does it feel?” Johnny says, rolling his hips forwards. Distantly, he feels the pulse of Simon’s heart against his skin, radiating through him. Again, the urge burns through the back of his hands, the soft stretch of his gums, to lean down and tear Simon open. His belly folds when he’s upright, a soft swell where the rough pattern of scales gives way to flesh, and Johnny wants to bite it, to fuck deep enough that he can see the outline of his cocks through Simon’s skin.
“Good.” Simon’s gaze shifts to him, a starving creature given food, the water murky because he’s feasted, and Johnny grins wide, shows off all his teeth. “You’re inside me, Johnny. I can feel you.”
Johnny’s hips still and he comes, flooding Simon’s slit, chanting a litany of Simon’s name until it loses all meaning except that he loves him. Simon holds him close through the initial tremors, presses kisses to the bowed crown of his head through the aftershocks as Johnny’s cocks withdraw inside himself, soft and satiated. satiated. Johnny’s gills flare as he gasps for breath, feeling the world tilt around him, drawing itself into fresh coordinates.
Simon reaches down between them, his hand littered with the imprints of Johnny’s teeth, and tugs at the edge of his slit. A heavy bead oozes out onto the edge of his claw, and Simon raises it to his mouth, licking from the base of his palm to the sharp tip, before he grins. “Not bad, Johnny.”
“Yeah?” Waves crash distantly in Johnny’s ears, his heartbeat just beginning to slow. He can’t look away from the slide of Simon’s tongue, the dexterous flick of it and his cocks twitch inside his sheath. “Give me a few moments to catch my breath, and we can go again. I have a couple of ideas I want to try next.”
#cod mw2#ghoap#soapghost#ghostsoap#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#my writing#mermay#mermay 2024#lemon
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey! Hey! I'm starting to like the anime "Wind breaker" lol!
I wanted to write but I'm so clueless... so here is something random! Teehee!
Ps. His flustered side is adorable!
(Warning spoilers for Windbreaker)
Suo's magic
"Sakura-san really wants to fight Suo-san... right?" Nirei sighed.
Suo gives a gentle laugh as he sits on the bench of the park after patrolling. The trio happened to be on break, and Sakura insisted he was bored walking the same empty path.
In the evening... what could possibly happen?
"What? I'm curious how Suo actually fights... like that time..." Sakura grumbled under his breath, folding his arms. Suo casually had his arms behind his back, still smiling.
Sakura raised an eyebrow at his silence, prompting him, "So? Do you wanna spar with me or what?"
Suo chuckles softly at that and begins to stand up, "Well, I guess just this once... but be warned...Sakura-kun, you might like how I fight you"
Nirei anxiously said, "S-Suo-san? D-don't go overboard..."
Suo nodded with a smile while Sakura looked serious, scoffing, "Please, the weakling you faced is nothing like me... I can parry you easily"
For a moment Suo froze before dashing with speed. True, Sakura is faster and manages to block and catch up to the eye-patch's speed. Nirei looks taken aback at this display, jotting down notes.
"Not bad... not bad" Sakura smirked, having the time of his life. Suo, despite being backed a bit, smiles in a calculative manner, "Hm mm~ not bad Sakura-kun, no one has ever countered my attacks before... your strong..."
Sakura felt the strength of Suo, and he began to step up confidentially. Suo is actually strong, and he likes how their combination working.
"However..." Suo suddenly said, quickly getting behind Sakura, "Shall we talk about how you get flustered so easily?"
"H-huh?" Sakura stumbles at this and feels Suo swipe his foot under him but with good flexibility and reflexes, Sakura dodged and backed a bit, flushed a little "I-I do not!"
Suo hummed teasingly, now lunging forward, "Really? But... your face is just like cherry blossoms when you get shy and cute like that..."
Nirei could see this isna tactic, and Sakura blushes furiously at each playful tease flinged upon him. This made Suo tackle him by pinning him down and teasing him. It did make him slip and fumble a few times.
"Ugh! Y-you cheater! Take this!" Sakura snaps, and surprising them all, he flips his position down, pinning Suo under him instead. Heavily blushing but trying to seem intimidating and dominant.
Staring for a moment, Nirei gasped in amazement, writing more on his notebook.
Suo chuckles, "As expected of Sakura... your tough... even for me..." he adds as he slowly crawled his fingers towards Sakura's waist."But... every strong guy has a weakness..."
Sakura was about to question until he felt a tingly touch on his ribs. He gasp "H-hey! What are you...?"
"Oh?" Suo ushers playfully, each word makes his fingertips travel up his sides, "Are...you... ticklish? Sa-ku-ra-kun? Mm?"
"Gah! N-no!"
"Hmmm~ really?" Suo experimentally dug to his armpits.
With a high-pitched giggle, Sakura doubled over and suddenly toppled to the side away from grappling as Suo takes this chance to mercilessly tickle his armpits, "Oh wow, this is a bad spot for you, Sakura?"
"Ack! N-nohoho!?"
"No? So then I can not keep on touching there?"
Amidst Sakura's panicked and angry cackles and struggles, Nirei noted down, murmuring, "Ah ha... Sakura's weakness is his armpits... It's good to know he's ticklish... but is that all?"
Suo laughs, still tickling, "Oh very true... but he's too cute as well..."
Sakuta squirms violently when Suo assaulted his belly, "Oi! No more! Assholes!
"Say you lost... Sakura-kun?"
Sakura shrieks as Suo goes deadly mode with the armpit tickling, "Say it, and I will consider!"
"Never!"
Suo smirks, digging into Sakura's neck now, massaging more forcefully for a tickly sensation.
With a loud shriek, Sakura squirms and began to tear up... "Ahhh NOHO! N-NOHO MORE AHAHASSHOLE!"
"Hm... whats the magic word, Sa-ku-ra~?"
Aghast and irritated, Sakura whined in loud sputtering laughter, "Aah! F-fine fine! Y-you win you wihiNIHIN!"
Sakura feels Suo let him up from the torture. His face is as red as cherry blossoms.
Nirei gives a snicker to tease Sakura, "Sakura-san you've a nice laugh..."
Sakura grumbles angrily, fuming and ears turning red, "Shut up... never again! N-never again am I ever fighting with you! Asshole!"
"Aww, are you mad? It's so adorable, Sakura-kun..."
"S-shut up!" He repeated again before turning his back to them, embarassed and fluatered
Seeing Sakura storm off, Suo smiles and winks at Nirei, "I got a lot more to do to catch up to him, Nirei-kun"
***************
Hope it's good! I rushed it a bit, sorry!
#tickle fic#cute#wind breaker#wind breaker tickling#lee!sakura#ler!suo#nirei#sakura haruka#suo hayato
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gale sketches by @orangekittyenergy <3
CHAPTER 1 (of 2)
Pairing: Gale x Fem Tav
Summary: Set post-game where Tav did not feature in Gale's troubles in Baldur's Gate. A whip-cracking, fedora wearing, Indiana Jones inspired mini-adventure - where Professor Dekarios is tempted out of the classroom, and on yet another perilous quest. (Chapter 2 out soon)
Warnings: Chapter 1 is SFW, Chapter 2... less so.
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: Just a bit of a fun based on the Gale as Indiana comparisons. Also, he looks like a young Harrison Ford, how could I not? This is not the stuff I'm used to writing! But it's been enjoyable and nice to try something new.
Her forest was dying.
Thaes’yána, a sacred patch of overgrowth within Elltavia’s home, had been under protection for so long that the Rangers of the forest no longer knew the reason why. Its guardianship had been passed down from mother to daughter for generations, and all Elltavia had known since being a girl was that entry was forbidden, and it was to be protected from outsiders.
But now, an arcane rot had settled deep within, and was infecting further and further outside of its bounds. Animals, once serene, were being driven to madness if they got too close for too long. Among the forest-dwellers, whispers of unrest travelled, tales of violence and theft staining the once peaceful community. The responsibility had fallen to her to find help, and she had travelled far to ensure she got it. Just like her beloved forest, if the end was near, she would not be going gently.
Her quest had led her somewhere unexpected, to the shadowy recesses of a sprawling lecture hall. She was nestled in the farthest corner, seeking refuge from the professor's unrelenting enthusiasm. From her observations, his class appeared to cleave into two distinct factions: the diligent scribes, feverishly scribbling down every word that spilled from his lips, struggling to keep pace with his monologuing, and the other group, who seemed utterly disinterested in the lecture material. Their pens lay dormant as they indulged in a different kind of attention; lingering onto his every subtle gesture and every inflection in his voice with wide-eyed fascination. There were a number of Tieflings in the class whose tails were swishing with telling enthusiasm. She imagined if she looked into their notepads, they would be laden with love hearts and romantic doodles.
She knew who Gale Dekarios was, of course. Word travelled, especially when one had command over birds to receive and deliver news from across the realm. Even as far away as she had been from the chaos and fire of Baldur’s Gate - she had taken up moonlit vigil to pray to Mielekki that the heroes' aim be true and their hope evergreen. And now she was sitting here, staring impatiently at one of the very people who had pervaded her prayers. He was more… academic that she’d expected, in his tweed blazer and bow tie. Rounded glasses perched on his nose, occasionally slipping down during moments of particular ardour, prompting him to deftly push them back up with his finger.
His talking seemed to go on for an extraordinary amount of time, but maybe it just seemed that way because she could feel each precious second slip through her fingers like burning sand. Eventually, the class poured out with a mixture of yawns and giggles and she approached his desk as he scribbled frantically on the blackboard.
“Your dates are wrong.” she said. He flinched slightly, making the chalk jump.He sighed and wiped away his slip, having lost his train of thought.
“Excuse me?” He turned to face her, his scholarly face frowning and making the lines between his eyes more pronounced. He looked much older when he was frustrated, she thought with amusement.
She pointed at his scribbles; “The fighting ended in 1421 sure, but the peace treaty wasn’t finalised until the following year.” Her eyes met his, and she was struck by the depth of them. “You may want to correct your students' next lecture. Well… the ones who were actually taking notes.”
She briefly cast her eyes over the picture frames on his desk. There was one of a formal looking woman with his tanned skin and warm eyes sitting on a sunlit balcony by the sea, and another of an unimpressed looking Tressym perched atop a pile of books.
It was the larger group photo that caught her attention, frozen in a moment of chaos.
In the centre of the frame, a flame-red Tiefling woman was mid-laughter, proudly displaying a crudely drawn portrait of a white-haired elf, the illustration nestling within an odd-shaped gap amongst the group. Behind her, a slight woman with a silver braid, was in the midst of being lifted by a huge, tattooed wood-elf, their collaborative efforts evident in their attempt to fit her into the picture. Next to them, an older woman in druid armour gestured animatedly, seemingly scolding a large, bald man who was earnestly attempting to position what appeared to be a hamster at the forefront of the group. Meanwhile, Gale, with his finger poised mid-sentence, was engaged in conversation with a handsome, horned man who stood with arms folded, seemingly annoyed. Amidst the chaos, only a Githyanki woman remained composed, her unsmiling gaze fixed directly on the camera, unaffected by the surrounding mayhem.
They were the heroes she had seen in the papers, but here they looked less like champions of the Gate and more like a dysfunctional, loving family. She much preferred this version of them.
“I was not aware I was being monitored today.” He took in her appearance, her dark braided hair was pulled up and away from her face, and she wore travelling robes and a worn cloak. She definitely wasn’t an academic, he thought. Though she certainly seemed knowledgeable on history. Her eyes looked much older than she did - They were the colour of summer leaves slipping into autumn and sparkled when she spoke. With her being an elf, it made sense that she was probably a lot older than she appeared.
“How can I help you, miss…”
“Elltavia Kidd’Alka.” Her tone was brusk, efficient. “I won’t waste time with small-talk. I’m here to request some assistance on an urgent matter.”
He sighed and rubbed his forehead, as though this was a regular interruption to his workday. “Ah, well you can tell the guild..
“I’m not with the guild.”
His frown deepened, “Fine, the harpers…”
“Nope, not them either.”
“Then please Miss Kidd…
“I’m a ranger stationed in the High Forest. My home is being infected by a blight which threatens the lives of many who live there. It is believed the cause is of arcane origin. I need your help to fix it.” She dumped a heavy, jangling pouch on his desk. “I think you’ll find this should be adequate payment.”
This woman did not mess around, he thought. She was refreshing, although he would probably like her more if she actually let him speak.
“I am a professor, not a hireling. I’m afraid I cannot help.”
“Completely understandable, Professor.” She offered warmly “After everything you’ve been through I can understand why you would prefer a quieter, more relaxed lifestyle. Besides…” She said with an exaggerated, compassionate sigh. “You’re not getting any younger.”
This appeared to have touched a nerve. “Listen, Miss Kidd’Alka - I'm sorry for your troubles, but my answer is no. Now if you’d excuse me, I have much to do before my next class. Apparently my dates need amending” He gestured with his arm for her to leave, and she tilted her head with curiosity. She was enjoying him flustered, and she did not move.
“You must feel very lucky to have such a comfortable position here at the academy. Especially with the influx of ancient artefacts that have been added to its custodianship since your arrival.” Her lips tilted at the sudden stiffening of his posture.
He remained silent, eyes narrowing as she sat down in his chair and put her muddy boots up on his desk. She removed a knife from a strap at her thigh, flashing her toned, supple skin and began to peel an apple which had been left for him by a particularly devoted student. He felt a familiar, but dusty feeling stir within him at the flash of her leg. His hand automatically flew to his chest, before remembering that was no longer necessary. Old scars run deep.
“It’s so strange how the discovery of these artefacts always seems to coincide with your sabbatical leave.” Her tone was playful, innocent, but her eyes were mischievous. She slowly let the peel fall away, her blade so sharp she barely had to stroke the fruit with the edge of it. She wasn’t even looking at what she was doing, her gaze was fixed fiercely on him.
“Your implication is wasted here, I can assure you.”
“My apologies, Professor Dekarios. I meant no disrespect.” She took a sharp bite of the piece of apple speared at the end of her knife, and he watched with fascination and derision as she swallowed, the juice trickling down to her chin. “I just thought the rumoured artefact causing the problem may be of interest to you and your academy. But, never mind. I hear there’s a ex-Sharran cleric who is fond of adventuring, maybe she can help me out.” She could practically hear the thoughts bouncing around in his head as she stood up to leave.
She was almost at the door when he gave a loud sigh.
“Wait. Take a seat. I’ll see if I can get my lectures covered.”
She turned to grin at him, and threw the rest of the apple across the room and into a bin with alarming accuracy.
“Leave some milk out for your cat, professor. You may be gone a while.”
The journey back to her forest had been arduous, mainly down to the fact Gale could not get the elvish pronunciation of her name right and so had resorted to calling her ‘Kidd.’ Frustrating for a woman who was one hundred and forty years older than him. Luckily, his useful knack for teleportation meant that at least the journey was shorter than expected.
They made it to the forest by the following morning, and Elltavia finally relaxed as the sound of songbirds and swishing trees soothed her tired feet and weary soul. She was home again. The plush canopy above them provided respite from the sun, but not the heat, and it wasn’t long into their journey before Gale had switched his slightly faded wizard’s robes into something more appropriate.
He now wore a loose, tan coloured shirt, unbuttoned enough to display a smattering of chest hair and what looked like a faded, circular scar. His tight brown trousers were tucked into leather boots held up by a belt laden with supplies and potions, and he had a satchel slung over his shoulders. Atop his head was a weather beaten fedora. Typically, she was not a fan of men in fedoras, but the way it kept his hair back off his face and shaded his handsome features was an unexpected and pleasant contradiction to the professor she had first met. But, it was the sinuous coil of a whip holstered at his side, its braided leather worn smooth by countless flicks and flourishes, that caught Tav’s attention the most.
“A whip?” She asked curiously, trying not to let any of the thoughts it inspired creep into her voice.
“An enchanted whip.” He replied smugly. “Much more useful than a staff, comes in handy from time to time.” To make his point, he unhooked it from his belt, swished it around his head once and then cracked it at a low hanging branch ahead of them. The tail of it curled around tight and sparked with electricity, zapping the dry wood into flame. It fell to the ground with a burning crash. He looked very pleased with himself as he extinguished the fire with a quick blast of conjured water.
“Well…” She said in the smoky silence. “That was completely unnecessary”
The mood shifted as they got deeper into the humid, overgrown forest. Leaves and foliage that was lush green and danced in the breeze suddenly became duller, the air stagnant and unbending. Birdsong had hushed, and the once vibrant heartbeat of the forest had suddenly stuttered and stopped.
They reached the centre of the blight, hidden amidst the greenery, to find an ancient temple almost completely swallowed by forest. Its crumbling skeleton had merged with creeping moss. Vines twisted round it like the lithe bodies of a hundred snakes, gripping and squeezing out any remaining life, pushing their way through the stone work until it was prised apart to fall to the forest floor. It once would have been grand, but now looked hollow and haunted. Elltavia grabbed Gale’s arm before he got any closer.
“Wait.” she murmured, crouching slightly. She drew out the sinuous bow from her back and notched an arrow. Her ears flicked like that of a cat surrounded by too much silence. There was something stirring, she could almost hear motes of threatening magic slinking together through the blighted air. Like heat gathering to form a storm. She could practically taste the thunder that had yet to crack.
“Expecting trouble?” Gale asked, hand now hovering over the whip at his belt.
She did not have time to answer before a skeletal figure, clad in tattered monks robes lunged at them from the shadows. His hollowed out eye sockets glowed with an eerie blue light, and his bony fingers clutched an ancient staff, carved with runes that pulsed faintly with dark energy. As it moved, the sound of creaking bones and whispers of necromantic incantation surrounded it like diseased air.
With a raise of its staff, a surge of necrotic magic crackled towards them. Gale dove to the side, rolling behind a fallen log, while Elltavia nimbly leaped into a nearby tree, her bow in hand.
She released an arrow in one swift motion. It whistled through the air and struck the skeleton in the chest. For a moment, the blue light in its eyes flickered, but it remained standing - unbroken and unfazed.
The guardian turned its hollow gaze towards her and began chanting in an ancient, guttural language. The ground beneath the tree where she perched started to rot and decay. With cat-like agility, she jumped to another tree just as the first began to crumble.
Gale seized the moment, sprinting forward and pulling his whip from his belt. With a flick of his wrist, the whip wrapped around the monk's legs, pulling it off balance. The skeleton crashed to the ground, the blue light in its eyes dimming as it struggled to free itself.
The ranger leaped into action, her bow discarded in favour of a pair of daggers. With feline grace, she landed above the guardian and plunged her daggers into its eye sockets, and the dimming light was finally extinguished.
“Nice whip work. You get much practice with that thing?” Elltavia approached him, breathless and sweating, and blew away some dust which had settled against his neck.
“Not as much as i’d like, Kidd.” He said, brushing away some blood from her lip with his thumb. “I’m just making this up as I go along.” There was a moment where their ragged breaths mingled, and their eyes held each other before she turned with a smirk, and headed towards the entrance the skeleton had been guarding. Gale realised, watching her sheath her daggers and count her arrows, that he was in more trouble than anticipated. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he wasn’t sure the fight was the cause of it.
They made their way down ancient, crumbling stairs flooded by spectral light from an imperceptible source, and Gale started to feel queasy and breathless. It was as though something beneath his skin, in his bones, was being sapped from him. It was a feeling he recognised.
“Sussur” he murmured, and he noticed vein-like ridges running along the walls, thin and faintly pulsing with a moonlight-blue glow. He ran the pads of his fingers over them, and felt a dull burning sensation on his fingertips.
“it’s in the walls. Incredible. It is no ordinary magic emanating from this place.” He held his hand out flat and attempted to conjure a small flame in his palm. There was a crackle, but nothing more. “My magic won’t work here.” For the first time since meeting Elltavia, he felt unsure of himself. It had taken time, patience, an orb of devastation and a mind flayer tadpole for him to even consider that he was of any use to anyone with his spellcasting ability. It had taken his friends to talk him down from martyrdom, and then Godhood. They had prised his own destruction away from him and cast it into the Chionthar. They had saved him, but some damage is irreparable, and some wounds will always scar.
“I didn’t come to you for your magic.” Elltavia offered behind him. “I sought you out for your knowledge, and bravery. I wanted the professor, not the wizard.”
He didn’t turn to meet her eyes, but his heart fluttered slightly at her words. He steeled himself, thought of the bravery of the Ranger who was fighting for her home, and pushed open the stone door at the foot of the staircase to reveal a giant, circular chamber. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and aged stone. The walls were smooth, carved with meticulous precision by hands long gone. Covering every inch of the surface were runes and writing, each symbol etched deeply and filled with a faint pulsing luminescence that danced over their skin.
“Amazing”
As Gale worked his way around the room, he took out a pair of glasses to help study the variety of texts carved about the place. "I’ve read about this before. A long time ago. An order of ancient monks, secretive and nomadic in nature," he mused, and Elltavia observed the delicate dance of his fingers tracing the inscriptions, as though seeking enlightenment through tactile communion. Beads of sweat glistened on his brow, causing his spectacles to slip, and the subtle readjustment sent a shiver down her spine.
“Like the one outside?” She tried to draw on what little knowledge she had. She had limited experience with monks in her many years. Certainly she had never come across any in the forest before.
“Not like that one.” He said frowning in concentration. “That one was dead. Re-animated, as a trap.”
He explored the ruins with an elegance befitting a sage, a paradox of scholar and adventurer, warrior and pacifist, man and mage. She found him fascinating. Turning, he caught her in the act of studying him, her curiosity laid bare.
“Something caught your attention?” His gaze was burning, and his mouth was a cocky smile.
She did not blush, Elltavia never blushed, but she did pause long enough for him to move on without hearing her sharp answer.
"They are custodians, seekers of wisdom, guardians of ancient lore, and protector of magic" His voice was low with reverent contemplation. “There are very few of them, and legend has it the ones left are immortals. Chosen by the Gods to protect and serve the precious arcane knowledge which so often gets corrupted or destroyed.”
For a brief second, his hand instinctively moves to his chest, to rest on the faded scar. He suddenly felt like a heretic defiling a sacred temple.
“You seem to know a lot about it.” She folded her arms with suspicion.
“Well.. I didn’t get tenure for nothing, Kidd.” His eyes flash at her with confident assurance. “These texts imply that they dedicated themselves so completely to their cause, to their life of protection, that they completely cast out all other distractions. They undergo a Rite, to prove their single-minded dedication. Apparently very few passed it.” He tried not to let creeping agitation wrap itself into his voice, if there was a test or a challenge to be taken for proving worth - he felt as though he was the wrong man for the job. He had cast aside the most luring and precious of temptations mortals could ever dream of. It was a test he’d taken twice, and only passed once. He didn’t want his weaknesses laid bare in front of him again.
“What happens if they failed?”
His answer was simple, but he feared what would come next would be less so.
“They died.”
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Whump" | connor rk800 x reader | WIP BLURB
I don't post him all the time, but the connor brain rot is pretty bad lol I also really like whump and I saw this pin on pinterest and that's how this was born hehe. again, not really finished! abrupt ending but you can guess where it goes, established friendship, in my head the reader is a secretary at the DPD but it's not referenced. female reader, reader uses she/her pronouns.
disclaimer: this blurb is unedited and unfinished. just wanted to share some WIPs! Enjoy!
"Connor!"
You found his body slumped on the floor against the wall, his head hanging at an awkward angle.
There was blue blood… his blood everywhere. It was so bright against the blackness of the dirty floor that it almost seemed to glow.
"Oh my god--"
You ran to kneel at his side, nearly slipping on the thirium under your shoes. His legs were straight out like a broken doll's, you could see patches of his plating where his skin had retracted in the damage. Trying to manage your breathing, you gingerly cradled his head, lifting his face to meet your gaze. It was worse than you thought.
Retracted skin revealed massive damage to his white under-plating. Scratched and dented and caved-in. Blue blood was splattered across his face, it poured from his nose and over his lips to drip off his chin. It was immediately clear he wasn't conscious, with glazed over eyes and a slack jaw.
Whether he was in a sort-of standby or already dead you had no way of knowing.
You peeled open his jacket to reveal the center of his chest where thirium pooled the thickest in a gaping, mangled crater. Down to his lap and spilling over the dusty cement. You had no idea what his inner wiring was supposed to look like, but you knew it wasn't this.
"Fuck-- Connor?" You held his cheeks, your crying already starting up fresh once again. "Connor, can you hear me? I don't-- I don't know how to fix you! Connor?"
No signs. No light from his LED, no flickering of his irises, nothing.
You were sobbing in earnest now. Hiccupping and shaking and breathing in harsh, shuddering breaths. You grabbed your phone, trying not to scream when your realized your hands were covered in blue blood. Connor's blood. Your best friend's blood. It took you too long to use your phone, with multiple pauses to wipe your sticky hands on your jeans.
When it finally began to ring, you cradled it between your ear and shoulder. You weren't sure what your hands could do, so you started wiping the blood from Connor's face. Away from his eyes, off his cheeks.
"This is Markus."
"Markus! It's me, you gave me your number in case of emergencies-- It's Connor, he's-- Connor's hurt, he's not awake and there's blue blood e-everywhere and I don't know what to do, I don't even know if he's--"
"Wait, wait-- slow down, where are you?"
"I-I don't know! Some random abandoned building off of— fuck— Riverbank Drive? Connor's been missing all day since he picked up this case by himself and I retraced his steps and I-- fuck, Markus-- I don't even know if he's alive!"
"I need you to tell me his condition so I can get some biocomponents for him-- can you tell anything from what you see?"
You balled the fabric of his jacket in your fist. You swallowed hard, "His chest looks really bad-- it’s all m-mangled and, and empty? He… He's lost a lot of blood— God, Markus, tell me he's not dead."
"I'm on my way with some help, alright? Send me your location and stay with him. If he wakes up, keep him still until we can get there, you got it?"
You sobbed again and nodded, covering your face with a blood-drenched hand. "I'll be here, I promise."
After Markus hung up and you sent him your location, he assured you he was coming as fast as he could.
You kneeled there, clutching the material of Connor's sleeves and crying. You were so useless. For all you knew, Connor was already dead, and you were here, holding his empty body. Androids were more resilient than humans, sure, but all living things had a limit. You'd never stopped to consider Connor was anything other than indestructible.
You heard Markus' footsteps echo through the empty structure some minutes later. You had managed to reel back your hysterical sobbing down to silent tears with some measured breathing but your resolve was… precarious.
"Markus! Over here!”
You didn't see him until he rounded the corner, Simon in step behind him.
"Jesus Connor--" He hissed as he ran to join you at his side. He had a case with him, which Simon got to work opening. Parts and tools, packs of blue blood.
"What happened?" Markus asked you as his eyes flickered over Connor's form, no doubt scanning his injuries.
You shook your head, trying to ignore the tears streaking down your cheeks and the blood on your hands, legs, face. You couldn't take your eyes off of Connor. "I don't know."
"Someone must've taken him by surprise--" Simon began, beginning to dig through his supplies. "Could've been some kind of electrical signal, got the jump on his hardware, lagged him out before the fight even started."
"Is he gonna' be okay?" You asked, now just holding onto the edge of Connor's jacket sleeve while Markus and Simon got to work.
"I don't know. Could depend on how long he was shut down."
Markus' hand reached deep into the cavern at the center of Connor's torso. He pulled out what must've been a biocomponent, mangled beyond your recognition. He passed it to Simon, before grabbing what you hoped was a new one from the case.
He swapped out a few pieces like that, all unrecognizable to your untrained eyes. Until finally Simon was holding one you knew. You'd forgotten it's name, but it belonged in the center of Connor's torso and regulated his heartbeat. That's how Connor had explained it anyway.
Before he situated the final part inside his chest, Markus spent some time repairing Connor's plating and wiring. Adjusting placements, bending pieces back into place, sometimes welding seams just enough to function. You stayed quiet, staring blankly at Connor's limp hand resting on the floor next to yours.
Useless.
You were utterly useless.
You started when Markus kur-chunk-ed the regulator into place in the center of Connor's chest, his hands angling back and forth to ensure the connection.
The faint sound of machinery blossomed out from his center. Quiet humming and whirring, like a computer booting up.
His face was mostly angled toward you but you couldn't see his LED. Markus and Simon were still at work. Connor's eyes still looked glazed over and empty.
You eyes caught on some movement toward the cement. His fingers twitching.
"He's awake," said Simon suddenly. "Keep him calm."
You looked back to his face, and while he still had that unfocused expression, there was something in his eyes. A clue that he could see you. Well, maybe sort of see you.
"Connor?" You tried softly. Your throat was tight with the promise of more tears. That familiar tingling in your nose, the watering of your eyes. "It's me, I'm here with Markus and Simon. You… You're safe."
"What…" His voice came out staticky and metallic. Like it was passing through an old radio. He blinked, slow. "What happened…?"
You swept a hair away from his brow. You hoped in his state he couldn't feel your trembling. As scared as you were, you didn't want to frighten him any further. His head turned just that little bit more towards you. His LED was a dim crimson.
"You got hurt. But you're gonna be fine. We're gonna take care of you."
His eyes fluttered, and he was that little bit clearer.
"You found me?"
You wanted to say 'barely', wanted to say 'by sheer dumb luck', wanted to say 'I almost didn't. I almost killed you'.
"Always."
"Alright, Connor, you're going to start to stabilize a bit,” said Markus finally as he seemed to finish up the last of what work he could do.
He slowly, slowly, turned his head to meet Markus' eye. Like a ghost.
"When you can stand, let us know. We need to get you back to Jericho for more repairs."
"Is he going to be okay?" You couldn't help asking again.
"Now that he's awake, as long as we get him to Jericho soon, he should be fine," Simon reassured. "You're going to be fine, Connor."
“Someone attacked me… I didn’t see their face… don’t remember…”
“It’s okay,” you added gently. “Take it slow.”
“They could still be here.” And his hand took yours in a staggering motion. Weak and slow and disjointed.
“We’re here, Connor.” Markus put his hand on his arm. “We won’t let anything happen to her.”
Even like this… Even with all this pain he was still worried about you.
“I can stand.”
You wanted him to take it slower, to not push himself too hard, but the sooner he got to Jericho the better.
You stumbled back, dropping his hand as Markus and Simon went to either side of him.
They slotted their arms under his and behind his back, helping him to his feet. He actually groaned a bit at the effort. It was a deep, staticky sound you’d never heard from him before.
You walked with them like that, trying not to start crying again. You went a few paces ahead of them to open doors and check around corners as the four of you made your way out.
Every time you glanced in Connor’s direction, he was already watching you with a clouded expression. The look was only made more intense by the smeared blue blood across his face and in his hair. You prayed you’d never see him this hurt again in your life.
“What’d you get yourself into now, my friend?” Markus’ voice carried a slightly teasing tone.
“Bad day at the… office… what can I say?”
When you made it outside to the crisp Detroit air, a car was waiting. You practically jumped in, punching in the destination to Jericho while the two men helped Connor into the car as delicately as they could. You eased him in from your side, bracing him against you. Another strained sound fell from his lips. He was still bleeding, and his lap quickly started to pool with blue blood once again.
“Fuck, Connor…” The whisper escaped you before you could stop it, your hand bracing against his dented plating where the thirium seeped from the seams.
“I’ll be alright… please, just… stay close…”
You pressed your lips together to stop more tears from surfacing. “I will, I promise.”
In some weird way, you’d never felt so close to him before. The two of you were just friends obviously, maybe even best friends, but right now… You felt like he could ask you anything— anything in the world— and you’d do it.
You thought about helping him sit up straighter, but instead kept him held against you. And he leaned into the hold.
The ride to New Jericho couldn’t go fast enough. It wasn’t a boat anymore, so at least you didn’t have to go as far as the docks. The now embassy-style building was closer to the heart of Detroit, and fully fitted with an android hospital, outreach programs, offices for the new android officials (the most prominent, of course, being Markus). A base of operations of sorts.
You’d been once before with Connor, hence how you got Markus’ number. You would never be able to thank him enough.
#kenna writes#dbh#detroit become human#detroit bh#connor#connor rk800#connor x you#connor x reader#connor x y/n#dbh connor x reader#wip#whump#angst#rk800#dbh rk800#fanfiction#fanfic#dbh fanfic#dbh fanfiction
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whumpay - Day 7
Main Challenge - Attacks, Mental & Physical - Heart Attack
Mini Challenge 7 - Torture - Shock Collar
Fandom - BBC Merlin (2008-2012)
“We have a special restraint for your attack dog. If he tries anything, he’ll regret it.”
Arthur scoffed. “My attack dog?” He looked around and noticed that
Merlin had six men surrounding him while Arthur was being held by only two. “You can’t mean Merlin? That’s ridiculous!” Arthur laughed a little but quickly stopped when it became obvious that his captors weren’t joking. No one else was laughing. Least of all Merlin.
Merlin was on his knees, head bowed, blood dripping from his nose.
“You can’t be serious.” Arthur tried again.
No one spoke. They were indeed serious.
Arthur and Merlin had been out hunting when they had been ambushed by these bandits. But something wasn’t normal about all this. The way they were treating Merlin was odd. Arthur felt like an afterthought to them.
“Tie them up.” The obvious leader ordered.
The bandits were all wearing rough cloaks and patched clothing, mud-spattered and travel-worn. The leader looked much the same, except for the strange necklace he wore and the fact that he was the only one who had uttered a word so far. Every other bandit had been absolutely silent.
As Arthur’s and Merlin’s hands were bound behind their backs, Arthur took a moment to examine the necklace that the leader wore. It was a long leather band with a metal charm. The charm was similar to a coin, flat and round, engraved with a honeycomb shape.
Once Merlin’s hands had been tied, the leader brought over a small trunk and knelt beside Merlin. He spoke some words in Merlin’s ear that Arthur could not hear. But Arthur saw Merlin’s eyes widen. He saw Merlin become pale.
The leader then opened the trunk.
“You do not want to do this.” Arthur warned the bandits. “I am the prince! Either I will get myself free and kill all of you, or the king’s men will arrive and do the same.”
From the trunk emerged a strange metal collar. It shone dully in the fading sunlight. The leader of the bandits opened the collar and fastened it about Merlin’s neck. It clicked into place with an ominous grating sound.
Arthur just couldn’t believe this was happening. “Come on, he’s harmless. Merlin, tell them, you’re practically useless!”
Merlin did not look up. Merlin just let them collar him.
The leader straightened up again and looked over to Arthur. “Watch now. This is what will happen if either of you make trouble.” He pressed a hand to his chest and spoke a strange word.
Suddenly, Merlin cried out. Arthur squinted against the blinding light.
Lightning struck out from the metal collar and ran down Merlin’s body. Merlin seized and twitched and fell to the forest floor where he continued to writhe. His face was twisted in agony.
“Merlin!” Arthur cried out. “Stop!” He ordered the leader. “Stop hurting him! He’s just a servant!”
As soon as it appeared, the lightning disappeared and Merlin lay still on the ground.
The leader looked to Arthur. “Bring them.”
Arthur was marched. Merlin was dragged.
They traveled through the forest until the sun fully disappeared and a thin mist formed on the ground. Arthur only realized they were descending into a cave when the stars above disappeared. They were brought to a small chamber, lit by the torches that the bandits carried. Merlin was dropped on the dirt floor beside Arthur, awake, but shaking and pale.
“Merlin?” Arthur nudged him gently with his foot.
Merlin looked up at Arthur. His bloody nose had coated the lower half of his face in a patchy bloodstain. Merlin grimaced up at Arthur. Something raw and pained.
Somehow, that didn’t comfort him.
“Merlin, are you okay?” Arthur whispered.
“Do I look okay?” Merlin’s voice was cracked and hoarse from screaming.
“You could just say no.” Arthur sighed and looked around. They were still being guarded by a lot of bandits. The leader was nowhere to be seen though.
“Sorry.” Gasping, Merlin worked hard to sit up. “I thought it would be obvious.”
“Now is not the time for sarcasm.”
Merlin was quiet a moment, then spoke again, quieter than before. “I can get you untied. But I can’t get this collar off. You will have to leave me.”
“Nonsense.” Arthur laughed. “I’ll get it off you.”
“You can’t.”
“And how do you know that?”
Merlin turned towards Arthur and met his eyes. “Osgar told me.”
Osgar must be the leader’s name.
“Then he was lying.” Arthur did not understand how Merlin was so gullible.
“He wasn’t.” Merlin’s gaze flicked to the entrance. “He told me…” Merlin swallowed hard. “He told me that if anyone else tries to take it off, it’ll kill me.”
Arthur watched as Osgar entered the chamber. It would make sense for a magic object to be so stupidly difficult to take off. But he didn’t feel like admitting that Merlin might be right.
“He was lying, Merlin. Why would it do that? It’s stupid.”
Merlin fell silent.
Osgar walked over and sat down in front of Arthur and Merlin. “I have some questions. If they are answered, then no one will be hurt.” He nodded at Merlin.
“I won’t tell you anything about Camelot.” Arthur snarled.
Osgar froze, then sighed and stood up. “I don’t want to know anything about Camelot.” He nodded at the other bandits in the chamber and they moved over to Arthur. They grabbed hold of him and kept him still. “I want information about Emrys.”
“Who?” Arthur spluttered. “I don’t know an Emrys.”
“I know.” Osgar stood over Merlin and looked down at the servant.
“I’m not talking to you.” Osgar touched his hand to his chest again, to the metal pendant he wore. “Am I?
Merlin slowly looked up at Osgar. “I don’t know anything.” He whispered.
“Liar.” Oskar spoke that strange command again.
Lightning flared. The very air blazed with heat. Merlin screamed. And Arthur, may he be forgiven, closed his eyes.
The questioning went on and on. Over and over, Osgar demanded information about Emrys. And over and over, Merlin denied him.
Arthur could hear his friend’s voice growing weaker. At first, Arthur struggled against his bonds and the bandits holding him. But it was no use. He could not escape. He could only witness.
Finally, there came a point where Merlin did not move anymore. He lay prone upon the dirt floor, still, too still. The metal collar about his neck had formed a shiny burn. Osgar approached, and using the toe of his boot, he flipped Merlin over onto his back.
“Stop.” Arthur begged with a raw voice. “You will kill him.”
Osgar’s eyes flicked over to Arthur for the first time in a while. “How does one kill an immortal?” Then he squatted down beside Merlin, looking down at him. Merlin’s face was slack. He was unconscious. Or dead. Arthur dearly wished he was unconscious.
Osgar stood up again. “Let him rest. We’ll try again later.”
And suddenly, Arthur was alone with Merlin.
Arthur scrambled over to his servant. He tripped and fell, finding it hard to get up again due to his bound hands.
“Merlin.” Arthur whispered and shook Merlin’s limp body.
Nothing. No reaction. The shiny burns on Merlin’s neck were the only color on him; he was so pale.
“Merlin.” Arthur shook him harder. Still nothing. Arthur bent awkwardly down and placed his ear next to Merlin’s lips. He could feel no breath. Merlin wasn’t breathing.
“No, no, no…”
Hoping he was mistaken, Arthur moved lower and placed his ear against Merlin’s chest. He listened hard. He held his breath. Willing that heartbeat into existence.
Silence.
“No.” Arthur sat back and sniffed. “No, I can’t-“ He stifled a sob.
He had to do something.
Arthur scooted down to Merlin’s boots. It took some angling, but he managed to pull Merlin’s knife out of his boot with his bound hands.
Not minding the bite of the blade into his own flesh, Arthur got to work on his bonds. Hands free and slippery with blood, he pawed at Merlin’s face. He was cold and damp with sweat.
He had to do something.
Tears in his eyes, Arthur raised his fist and brought it down on Merlin’s chest. Hard.
He pressed his ear to Merlin’s chest. Nothing.
Arthur did it again. And again. Weeping silently so he could listen for a heartbeat.
His fist hurt. He had to do something.
One more time.
Merlin gasped and coughed. His eyes flew open. His limbs shook.
Arthur laughed and gathered Merlin up into his arms and held him tightly.
“Ow.” Merlin rasped. “That hurts.”
“Too bad.” Arthur sighed.
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
Patching you up
Synopsis: venture getting healed by reader after a mission. Venture is head over heals for you! Reader is a healer:) sorry this is short:(
Genre: fluff:)
T/w: mentions of bruises & light talk on bl00d, nothing too harsh. No mentions of y/n. Plz read a/n at the bottom!
Venture X (healer)reader
After a mission you were patching sloan up as they talked about a new artifact they recently found. Cleaning their wounds as they take in a huff, holding in their breath as it stings a little. You glance up at them “its okay, I’m almost done cleaning” you say continuing to patch them up. Sloan lets out an exhale “I was just trying to be cool” they laugh a little as their eyes watch you work diligently. Admiring your features as your focus makes their stomach feel giddy, without realizing their smiling you look up. Hearing your laugh caught them off guard for a moment but they smiled a bit bigger “what?” They said a bit confused. “You’re all banged and bruised but you smile like it didn’t even happen” you said chuckling, after the discarding the bloody alcohol wipes. “I can’t die, I’ve more stuff to see.” Sloan lightheartedly says, watching you set up healing equipment.
Their treatment went smoothly, once you were just finishing up Baptiste walked into the infirmary “oh hello you two” he said surprised making his way to his area of the room. “Don’t mind me just needed to grab something” he says nonchalantly as he opens up his filing cabinet, digging through it. You turned your attention back to venture after you both greeted him, “everything is all good, just get a meal in and plenty of water before going to sleep. If anything feels off you know where to find me” you say softly to venture with a smile. “Uh yeah! Thank you so much, I’ll see you at dinner then if you want to sit together?” Venture asks as they hop off the table looking at you as they fidget with a zipper on their jacket. Studying your face once more, taking in your features with admiration. They look at you as if you hung the stars and moon. “yeah I’m down, I’ll see you there” you say with a smile that makes their stomach feel all giddy again. “Cool… cool” Sloan says with a smile before exiting and saying bye to both you, and Baptiste. “Whew doctor! Looks like you have a little admirer” Baptiste says in a playful way as he looks at you and winks. “Sloan? What? No no” you laugh a little brushing it off as your heart beats a little faster and you let out a chuckle. “We’re just friends” you add. Closing the cabinet he looks back up at you “Awe don’t tell me you need an eye exam now doctor” he clicks his tongue at your dismissiveness followed by a light chuckle.
A/n: sorry this is short, I’m thinking about making more venture content tho 🤔. Thank you guys for all the love on recent posts & requests. My requests are open! You must be 18+ tho! Also I don’t do smut (as of rn)
#venture overwatch#venture ow2#sloan cameron#sloan cameron x reader#venture x reader#overwatch x reader#overwatch x male reader#overwatch x you#venture x you#overwatch 2#fluff#overwatch headcanons#x male reader#x chubby reader#x black reader
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
MICHAEL MELL 2019 HOODIE REFERENCE !!!
hello i’m sorry i’ll be back to my usual object show art shit soon i promise 🙏🙏 BUT i used a 3d model [ this one ] and countless references to make a complete reference of michael mell’s bway hoodie !!! probably messed some of the patches up , wrong placement or whatever but eeehhh . . mb if i did
ALSO !!! THIS tumblr blog was a big help w/ finding some of the pngs ^_^ !! i used promotional pictures and videos from the official youtube to try and find out every single one of the patches !! except i could never make out one . . [ if anyone knows what it is PLEASE TELL ME 🙏🙏 ] you can see said patch plus my struggling under the cut :3 !!
ok thank you that is all
#be more chill#bmc#bmc michael#bmc michael mell#bmc musical#be more chill michael#be more chill michael mell#hopefully this is of use to at least one person#i won’t lie i just did this cause i was so bored#and wanted to look at all the patches at once#i still dont know what that one patch is and if i’m losing my mind or not#it’s ok one day i’ll find out#also i might do his end of show jacket but the chances of that are LOW cause there r like NO PICTURES OF IT 😭#ok anyways sorry rant in the tags over#bmc reference#be more chill reference#michael mell#bee rambles !!
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
i've been hard at work modding skyrem for the past couple days and testing the mods and i just. missed this game so much wow
#i cant play it properly yet!! bc i still have a bunch of mods to go through but#i've installed n tested some texture/environmental mods today n every time i test them i just wanna stay there to wander around....#alas i must leave... but soon..... i can immerse myself in skyed rim once again......#please look forward to heidrun hard launch in the coming days or weeks idk#also does anyone know how to use wrye bash. i've never used it before#but i want to use some apparel mods that i think edit the same leveled lists n apparently if i want them all to work together#i gotta make a bashed patch..... scary#el.txt
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
various little Pictures of thinges
#photo context/information described here in the tags since there are no longer photo captions#(from top Left to right) image 1: BABYY!!!!! SON!!!!! HE!!!!!!!!!!!!#image 2: I found a patch of these clovers that were kind of mutated or infected or something? like they were not actually Red clovers#it was patches of totally normal green clovers except every once in a while one of them would have one leave thats red or half red or even#be completely red. AND they were growing near a patch of these wildflower weeds that have red stems to them. so I wonder if it's even poss#ble that maybe some of the red like.. got mixed in with the clovers somehow? a lot of the patches with a few red ones look spotty and unhea#thy so it could have been the sun or something. I dont know how plants work. I just thought it was really cool to find these one or two#special mutant clovers in huge patches of ohtwerise totally normal green clovers.. :0#image 3: look at these weird round fat baby carrot things... Rotund#image 4: laying out some fabrics for a costume just drafting them and seeing what looks okay in the pile and what doesnt etc.#thats my whole process is just 'throw things into a pile on the floor that look okay and match then put them on eventually' lol#image 5: MORE wii scores lol.. I think this is my best score on this one though. There's 10 little markers you have to select so getting 7#means I selected more than one per second.#image 6: I couldnt decide which type of muffins I wanted so I just made a batch of plain/vanilla batter and then added things to each littl#section to make multiple flavors without having to actually make a full batch or multiple batters lol. I think it's chocolate swirl (with d#rk chocolate chunks). banana cinnamon. strawberry. normal chocolate. rosemary and lemon. peach. ginger peach turmeric. and#'scraps of the other batters all thrown together' lol. Decent however the random recipe I found online for a basic cupcake batter was#not very good and they were weirdly dense and spongy.#image 7: A PICTURE OF THE dishscapes that I watched and rambled about (to the like 5 of you who saw that post#and read the tags of it lol).... beach houes..I still so much wish I could make my own Fantasy Screensaver Story.. oughh#image 8 & 9: a really cool flower from outside. I like that it has all these weird spindly little things from the center :0#photo diary
9 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
iodisastratadallanascita
Happiness
caffeine-cowboy
Welcome to the yeehaw zone
shhh-secretartblog
Untitled
commander-diomika
Hankenstein
caffeine-cowboy
Welcome to the yeehaw zone