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luvfy0dor · 2 days

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i'm sorry kisses with ranpo and nikolai if thats fine? ^^

it could be after an argument they had with the reader or something else

Ranpo and Nikolai + I'm Sorry Kisses ♡⁠˖

Warnings; cursing (once in Nikolais), barely proofread

Event/m.list

Edogawa Ranpo ★

It was no secret that Ranpo wasn't the best when it came to cleaning up after himself, especially his candy wrappers. It's not like he never helped around the house, but you were definetly the one doing most of the work. You knew it'd be best to communicate with Ranpo about it instead of letting those feelings bottle up inside you until you exploded in his face, so that was exactly what you did, approaching him neutrally and sitting next to him on the couch. He turned his attention to you with a smile, and leaned in to kiss your cheek. "Hey sugar, what's up?" He asked, leaning into your body with familiarity. "Uhm...you've been- okay, so don't get upset or nothin, but-" "Just get on with it, I won't get mad!" He eagerly says, no aggravation in his voice whatsoever, just impatience. "Well, you seem to be...uh, slacking around the house, and I could use a little more help, you know?" You tell him, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He hums before speaking again.

"You say it like a disappointed teacher...but I knew that's what you were on about! I was just waiting for you to say it. Don't get scared that I'll be mad. I don't want to clean up, but if it really makes you upset, I'll do it. As long as-" "yes, I know, Ranpo, as long as I verbally reward you afterwards." You say with a playful eye roll. He grins and kisses you, holding your face close to his with both hands. "Mmm, m'sorry, sweetheart, ya should've told me sooner!" You brushed his hair from his face and nodded, leaning on his shoulder. "I was just nervous...but you shoulda just started helping if you knew! Woulda saved me so much stress." You say, eyebrows furrowed as you look up at him. "Well, not everyone's gonna pick up on what ya want if ya don't say anything about it." He says, reaching into his pocket and grabbing a lollipop. He unwraps it and goes to stuff the wrapper in his pocket, but thinks again and gets up to bring it to the trash can. It made you smile. "Ranpo, you don't have to throw every wrapper out immediately, just be careful you don't drop 'em everywhere." You say from the couch, making him sigh. "It's alright, might as well train myself for a better habit." He says. "Now, where's my reward at, darling?"

Nikolai Gogol ★

Nikolai was getting on your nerves today with his playful and mischievous antics, and the final straw for you was him scaring the shit out of you by releasing a dove in the house and not letting you know about it. You looked annoyed already as you walked into the dimly lit kitchen while your literal clown of a boyfriend showered and nearly had a heart attack when a bird flew out from atop the cabinets. It sent you gasping and stumbling backwards, tripping and falling onto the floor. "Oh my god- Nikolai!!" You yelled out to him, knowing he probably couldn't hear you under the shower. And he couldn't. He was in the scrubbing his body and humming some jolly old tune, he himself having forgotten that he released the dove. After all, you were the only dove of his on his mind! Soon enough, the shower turned off and you could hear him open the shower door. You stood back up clumsily and made your way back into the bedroom and called to him through the door. "If you release doves in the house get them out! One of them was perched on the cabinet and it scared the shit out of me!" You say, holding a hand over your heart and feeling the fast pace.

"Oh, sorry! It completely slipped my mind, honey." He calls back as he pulls his shirt over his head. "It was just one thing after another today, and I cannot take one more singular knock knock joke from you." You say, flopping down on the bed. He emerges from the bathroom with a raised eyebrow. "My bad, you should have said something if my antics were overwhelming you." He says, walking back over to the bed with a towel over his shoulder, flopping down with half of his body on top of you. It shoved an 'oomph' out of your throat and a shiver up your spine as you felt his cold, wet hair hit your shoulder. "Jeez, Kolya." You say, surprised by the extra weight on top of you, though it wasn't unfamiliar. "Whaat? I'm just saying I'm sorry in my own way." He smiles, placing kisses on your shoulders and nape of your neck making you squirm. "Heyy~ knock it off!" You say, trying to suppress your giggles and stay annoyed with him, but you fail. "Oh, c'mon, dove, you know I'm really sorry and I love you." He says, getting up on his elbows and looking at you in the eyes as you turn your head towards him. He gives a toothy grin before leaning in to kiss you, to which you roll your eyes and kiss back. "Alright, whatever." He smiles and rubs your back before standing up to toss his towel in the laundry hamper and promptly returning to your side. "Good. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you had given me the silent treatment over something so silly." Now, let's go to bed, you seem rather exhausted."

A/n; first req of the event!! So happy that I'm getting so many, I was so nervous no one would wanna do it!! Thank you to everyone who requested or liked the post or just likes me in general ^^ 💖 I love you!!

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screamingatanemptyroom · 1 day

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The Healer Pt 4

The story continues. I'm still enjoying this one, so we'll keep going!

Part 1 / 2 / 3 linked here. (If I get to 5+ parts I'll make a master post)

Enjoy!

___________________________

ONE YEAR EARLIER

“Natalie! You’re here!”

Jack shouted with excitement when he saw me. Garrett and Rita trailed behind him, their expressions happy, if a bit mild and unenthused. I was still sitting on the ground, catching my breath after my first battle in this strange world. The corpses of the monster flowers had faded into the grass, leaving little evidence of my fight behind. I waved to them, feeling a strong sense of relief in seeing familiar faces.

The three of them had been my teammates in Fantasy Realm, even if they weren’t the kindest people I had ever known. While playing together they were often inpatient with me, unforgiving of mistakes, and constantly pushing me to spend more time and money improving my character when they knew I had very little of both. I had always given in, and disliked myself for doing so, hoping it would improve their opinion of me, knowing deep down it wouldn’t. I might call them friends… and I would be shocked if they called me the same. But after waking up in this weird real world of the game, I was just happy to know anyone at all.

I was afraid to be alone.

The group reached me, and with a grin, Jack reached out and helped me to my feet. I brushed the dust off of myself and looked them over. They all looked like they had in our old world, the only difference was their clothing. Jack was dressed in leather armor, reinforced my metal along the chest and back. Garrett had a large sword strapped across his back, with scant coverings over the rest of his enormous frame. Rita had a simple cloth robe and a large wooden bow.

“We all chose our familiar classes.” Jack saw my studying look and informed me. “Seemed the safest thing to do given that we don’t know what happens if you die in here.”

Rita rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you guys are taking this seriously! This can’t be real. We're still in the game! It’s just some hoax, someone hacked the game. Eventually my dad will tear the VR company apart, sue them into oblivion and then we’ll be let out!”

I paused at that. “We weren’t playing the game when this happened though.”

“We just forgot.” She answered forcefully, her gaze annoyed as usual as she met my own.

Rita had always disliked me. Our parents knew each other, her father was a well-known lawyer who had pushed her to follow in his footsteps. As someone who had struggled with the weight of parents’ expectations, I sympathized. But she had quit law school after a week, turning to full time gaming instead. She didn’t do well enough to make any money, but fortunately her mother paid her bills.

Her father was disapproving to say the least. He apparently used me as an example to her of someone successfully “taking over the family business,” never mind that I hated the pressure, resented my parents’ strict expectations and escaped whenever possible. It didn’t matter. Rita despised me, and no attempts from myself or from Jack could smooth the rift between us.

Garrett looked me over from head to toe, confused. “You don’t have a weapon.”

I froze at his words. Garrett had a large sword, obviously a barbarian type class. Jack had a one-handed sword, a fighter or swordsman. Rita was an archer with her bow. But me…

There was only was class in the game that couldn’t use weapons.

“No…” Rita started laughing, so hard that tears were forming in her eyes. “No… you DIDN’T do something so STUPID….!”

Garrett was shaking his head, frowning disapprovingly. I ignored them, my entire attention was on Jack. We had been friends since freshman year of college. He had helped me find my first class, I tutored him in chemistry. We had supported each other through ups and downs, told each other about our fears and dreams…

And he was looking at me with hatred in his eyes.

“You are a Healer.” His voice was quiet, but the lack of emotion in his tone made my hackles raise. I started to back away.

“Jack… I…”

His hand gripped my throat, and I was lifted off the ground. I gasped, unable to get air, and struggled against him, but with a strength stat of -10 I knew there wasn’t much hope. I wouldn’t be able to cast my healing spells either, without being able to speak the activation word.

I need to be able to cast without speaking. My brain focused on that, almost desperately avoiding dealing with the situation I was currently in: My friend was killing me.

**The Healer enters an early hypoxic state - 10 damage for each second that airway compression remains in place. **

**The Healer takes 10 damage. **

I had only seconds to live.

** The Healer takes 10 damage**

I grabbed his hand, focusing all my desperation into the need to cast my only spell: Small Incision.

** Through sheer force of will, The Healer has discovered Wordless Incantation**

**The Healer casts Small Incision. Jack the Hero takes 1 damage.**

As the messages floated across my vision, Jack yelped in pain, clutching his bleeding hand, dropping me to the ground. I laid still for a few moments, focusing on breathing, the pain of my neck and in my lungs a reminder of what had just occurred. I stared up at Jack, hoping to see remorse on his face.

There was nothing but rage.

“How DARE you pick a useless class like healer?” He snarled, holding pressure on his hand to stop the bleeding while staring down at me. “Our lives could depend on doing well in this game, and you seriously chose a class with minimal fighting potential, whose healing abilities are worse than any potion that can be purchased in a shop?”

He stepped closer, and I flinched back, my heart beating wildly. “You are so obsessed with your parents’ disapproval, that even in a life-or-death situation you had to pick being a doctor? Are you really so messed up?”

I opened my mouth to explain. I knew this class well, the strengths and weaknesses. I could use it to the team’s benefit. I had been a good teammate, one of the reasons we had placed so highly in the last tournament. I wanted to say all this and more.

But as I stared into the disappointment in his eyes, I felt myself slipping into old habits. Of staying quiet and nodding. Of keeping the peace and letting myself take the blame. I hated it, despised myself for it… but kept silent all the same.

“Should we just leave her behind?” Rita asked, giving no concern to me as I struggled to catch my breath after Jack’s strangling attempt. “She’s useless after all.”

“She used to provide good support.” Garrett spoke up. “We can keep her on the team until we find someone more useful…”

“I am not giving a spot on our team to a healer.” Jack closed his eyes and rubbed his temples for a moment, as if trying to calm himself down. Finally, he looked down at me coldly. “You can tag along with our team, without an official spot. You will do your best to be useful. Otherwise, we will leave you to die.”

Leave them! My heart screamed at me. Being alone is better than this! You didn’t commit some great sin by becoming a Healer! You just chose the best you could! Tell them!

Slowly, I nodded. “Fine.” My voice was still hoarse from the pressure he had placed on my throat. I adjusted my tone with the ease and familiarity of practice. “I’ll follow along.” I pushed the screaming voice in my head back, along with my pride. I knew I was worthless, a failure. I had been told that every day by the two people on the planet who were supposed to love me the most. Jack was only the latest person to say it out loud.

This was what I deserved.

The first month passed quickly. We went on multiple quests together, and settled into a comfortable rhythm. Jack would take the lead, with Garrett beside him to tank. Rita picked off far away opponents, and supported from the back. And I…

I did everything I could.

Outside of fights, I was cooking, keeping inventory, asking for quest information, and keeping the gear repaired and functional. Many nights I stayed up late, sharpening swords or repairing gear, only to have my hard work receive a nod and no other recognition.

In fights, I demanded even more of myself. Slipping in between enemies, causing damage. I delved down most of the “surgical” pathway of the healer ability, which allowed me to cause a diverse array of damage. I built up my MP until I could activate Wordless Incantation, as I found the group's irritation was a lot less if they couldn’t hear me. I immobilized enemies and allowed the others to finish them off. Because I had a hand in almost every single enemy’s death, I received a good amount of XP and fame from each fight, which angered Jack to no end.

“Stop stealing our experience!” He snapped after a fight, reading the notification that stated the rewards and experience given out.

“You asked me to immobilize them.” I answered quietly, feeling tired. “Do you want me to stop?”

“…” He glared at me silently for a few moments before answering. “Figure out a way to do it without taking my XP.”

“…sure.”

“I mean it, Healer.” From the moment he heard my class, he had never called me by my name. Our friendship, the time we had spent together… none of it meant anything next to the weight of the one undeniable fact:

I was a Healer. And therefore, in his eyes, I was a burden.

I kept my head down, trying to help out as much as possible. I learned not to ask for recognition. To not expect thanks. And I thought things would never change.

And then came the day we met Winter.

________________

PRESENT DAY

“Ouch!” Stephanie yelped as I carefully placed the needle through her skin, placing a simple suture across the wound on her calf. I didn’t hesitate with her cry of pain, tying the knot and moving on to the next stitch.

“The area has been numbed with magic, don’t pretend it hurts.”

“Yeah, I was just messing with you.” Stephanie laughed stuck her tongue out. “How did you know?”

“Because I know how it feels to sew my wounds shut without the local anesthesia spell.” I kept working without looking up. “You wouldn’t just be saying ‘ouch.’”

“Uh…Well, thank you.”

I felt surprised at her words. After a year with the Hero’s party, I was so used to doing things without any gratitude or recognition. You’re not with them anymore. I let out a mental sigh of relief at the thought, and smiled at Stephanie. “You’re welcome.”

“YOU SMILED!” Stephanie tried to get up to hug me, but Alton reached over from where he was sewing cloth nearby and pushed her back down, shaking his head with a grin.

“Don’t interrupt her work.” Winter’s response was much colder, causing Stephanie to freeze in place.

“I’m on the last one anyways.” I squared off the last knot on the suture, cutting the tails and placing a clean bandage over my work. “Keep it dry for 48 hours, and then you can remove the outer covering and bathe.”

“Not to cheapen all the work you just put into repairing this cut for me…” Stephanie hesitated. “But wouldn’t a healing potion be easier?”

Alton shook his head, but before he could say anything Winter spoke up. “Stupid human.”

“HEY! I’m not stupid!” She glanced at me. “Right?”

“No, you’re not.” Raising an eyebrow at Winter, who settled down with a grunt, I continued. “Have you noticed that over time you’ve had to use more powerful healing potions?”

She thought that over. “Well, yeah, but… I’m higher level, and have more HP… Isn’t that normal?”

“Have you tried to use a basic potion recently?” I pulled one out, and tossed it to her. “Here.”

Stephanie caught it, clearly confused. “I’m only missing 5 HP… I don’t need something that heals 10…”

“Try it.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “If you insist…” She drank the potion quickly, and then flinched at the notification. “…It didn’t work? … Not even the cut healed.”

Alton continued to sew, but spoke up. “The more you use healing potions, the less they work. Fortunately, this seems limited to healing potions… mana recovery and other types of potions such as detoxification seem to not develop the same resistance. It’s also a slow process, but it’s becoming a universal issue. If you check the world chat this is a heated topic of discussion. Most people believe the that it’s related to level… but that’s not the case.”

“How do you know that?”

“They still work on me.” I answered quietly. “That’s why I carry the basic ones around.”

“Foolish humans… these potions were meant for true lifesaving emergencies… a basic healing potion should be enough to recover up to 50% of your health… but you drink them like water until they are worthless to you.” Winter sighed, looking over at me with a small smile. “That is why the Healers are such a vital class. In a world of constant danger and battle, of destruction and pain, only they have the power to heal and preserve. They are a noble, selfless light that protects those around them… someone to be protected at all costs. There should be a Healer in every party… but instead Nat is the only one left.”

“You did save me before!” Stephanie did get up unobstructed and hugged me. “Thank you!”

“And me.” Winter added, staring at the ground. “She saved me as well.”

“Hey, I distinctly remember passing out in front of her and being saved too, guys!” Alton spoke up, tying up his thread and checking the repair on his cape before looking at me. “I guess we are all indebted to you.”

I stared at all of them, feeling disturbed in my heart. “You guys… I’m…”

I’m worthless. Weak. And my weakness was used to destroy countless lives.

“… Thank you.” I silenced the words in my heart, and spoke a simple thanks instead.

“…” Winter was staring. I always felt he could see more than I wanted him too, as if my hidden thoughts and feelings were on display in front of him. But instead of commenting, he simply bent down, plucking a blue flower from the ground, and handed it to me.

“That’s so cute!” Stephanie clapped her hands, before freezing. “Wait! Are you two…?”

Alton paused in packing up his things and stared in our direction.

I shook my head silently at her before turning back to Winter. “Thank you. The mountain wild flower’s petals have strong anti-inflammatory properties. I’ll dry it out and process it for medication at our next stop." I pressed the flower carefully in one of my books and packed it away.

Winter nodded at my words. “You’re welcome.”

“It’s for medicine?” Stephanie frowned, disappointed. “Well, that’s boring. Where’s my drama?!”

Alton smiled widely. “Oh, don’t worry, I got your drama! Look in the world chat!”

Pausing, all of us pulled up the chat, excluding Winter, who leaned on a tree nearby and watched the display over my shoulder. The top topic in the chat was skyrocketing with engagement… and seeing the title it wasn’t hard to understand why:

___________________________

“TROUBLE IN PARADISE? HERO’S PARTY SEEN ARGUING WITH NEW MEMBER REBECCA THE SORCERESS! IS THE USELESS HEALER MISSED?”

There was great discussion today among players as a loud disagreement broke out among the Hero’s Party after their last quest line. Although it is unknown the exact nature of it, it seems to be surrounding the recent addition to the party. Rebecca the Sorceress is the newest member of the Hero’s Party after the departure of the much-despised Healer. Many had cheered her arrival, as well as supporting the apparent budding relationship between the Hero and his new magical lady.

___________________________

“And you guys ask why I think humans are stupid.” Winter muttered as he read along with me. I shushed him and continued on with the post.

___________________________

But is there a fracture in the once iron-strong team? Words such as “Useless,” “Hiding” and “Potion sponge” were heard shouted by Rita the Holy Archer, with the Hero defending and Garrett the Giant siding beside Rita. Rebecca appeared to be in tears. Is this bullying the newcomer? Is Rebecca actually dragging the team down? What does this mean for the plans to attack the forty second gate in a few days?

Discuss your thoughts below!

___________________________

I sighed and closed the chat, seeing that comments were mostly just going back and forth over the juicy gossip. “What a mess.”

“You don’t sound surprised.” Alton commented with a grin.

“No. I’m not. Rebecca… she’s…”

“Useless?” Stephanie interjected.

“Full of tears and excuses?” Was Alton’s contribution.

“A snake who poisons those foolish enough to trust it.” Winter quietly added.

I laughed. “… I was going to say she’s a lot of drama… but I like your answers better. They are used to a certain standard of having everything done for them, even if I backed off quite a bit towards the end, when things had gotten really bad. I don’t think Rebecca will see my role within the group as appealing, though.”

“Oh well, their loss is our gain!” Stephanie cheered, hugging me again. “Let’s go hunting! I want meat for dinner!” She pulled out her sword excitedly.

“Yes, Natalie should have some meat to help her recover from all the battles we’ve been through.” Winter nodded, checking his bow and following.

Alton stood up and looked over at me. “Meat for dinner doesn’t sound bad… what do you think, Ms. Healer? Do you want to go hunting?”

“I don’t want to ruin their fun…” I started to say, looking at the backs of the two already moving ahead.

Alton’s voice was serious. “No. I’m not asking about them. I’m asking what YOU want to do.”

I paused, and my gaze met his own. After a few moments, I smiled. “Meat sounds great for dinner.” And I meant it.

“Then let’s go hunting with them.” Was his answer.

And hunting we went.

With only two days left before we would face the forty-second gate.

#writing #fantasy #the healer #violence #magic #video game like world #betrayal #friends

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sasayego · 20 hours

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Heyyy…. May i request a wife reader x dick grayson… she is mad at him and is giving him a silent treatment, but he is so done with this that he starts annoying her by saying Mrs. Grayson after every sentense and closing tightly lids

anon this is so adorable. i am going feral. also i am so severely sorry for my IA-ness.

tags — just overall fluff. some light swearing

In hindsight, you should've known that this would entail not just dating, but also marrying a vigilante. How could someone blame you, anyways? You were sitting at home, about to go to bed, when Nightwing crashed into your apartment after being chucked across the city by some villain or the other.

He had a major concussion. You didn't know how to treat thrown vigilantes who definitely had a couple of broken ribs and a torn ACL.

What you did know was how to comfort a man who was clearly in pain, who was trying to stifle his screams, because let's face it, the vigilante life should clearly not be glamorized.

He felt bad for the wreckage in your apartment. Every week, there'd be thousands of dollars at your doorstep from him, ready to pay it off. He had to be rich. There was no way he was giving your entire salary in four months and a half.

Eventually, you figured out his secret identity. And instead of being angry about it, Dick Grayson felt awfully in love with a girl who was as intelligent as he hoped she'd be. Sure she wasn't a supermodel, but she made him laugh. She made him think. She wasn't easy to get along with at times, but she made him better.

Three years later, he put a ring on it.

"I told you," you snapped, "you just keep going in stupid situations, and normally, I wouldn't mind, but it's like you refuse my help or anyone else's."

Dick knew he had a really bad hero complex. He couldn't stand anyone else getting hurt because of his issues. "I can handle it," he responded. "And isn't it just annoying that you've been mad at me for the past two days? Can't you just give it a rest?"

"I'll give it a rest when you start accepting help from others," you responded, your brows furrowing. "God, you're so—you're so—ugh!"

Dick rolled his eyes and then smirked at you, that stupid boyish smirk that made your heart tingle and everything else disappear. "I'm so what, sweetheart? What am I, Mrs. Grayson?"

You glared at him. "Dick!" You huffed, both saying his name and the insult. "That's it. I want a cooling down period. Leave me and the kitchen alone!"

He grinned, looking back at you, a mischievous glance in his eye. "Oh, I will, Mrs. Grayson. I will."

* * *

Making dinner was one of your forms of therapy. Dick was starting to go out for patrol, much to your distaste, no doubt about to pick a fight with someone who would give him considerable damage.

You didn't want him to go, you wanted to keep him here and kiss him forever, but he would leave anyways. It's my moral duty to the people of Bludhaven to keep them safe, he had said to you one night. I could never bring it to myself to disappoint these people. To make them unsafe. I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure people are as safe as can be.

And though you really disliked it, you knew that was one of the core reasons why you were so undoubtedly in love with him.

You turned around to grab the jar of pickles, still steaming from the fight, only to find that it was incredibly hard to open.

"What. The. Hell?" You hissed. You had opened it up just a day ago, and put it easily back, making sure it wasn't that hard.

Your face turned red and you looked at it again before trying to open it up, straining and groaning, only for your muscles to give out. There was only one explanation for this.

Your stupid, lovable, husband.

And after a few minutes of recollecting your pride, you stomped over to your bedroom where he was dressing. He was in the midst of putting the top half of his suit on, and your mouth turned a little dry when you saw him shirtless.

You were pretty sure that when the first time you saw him shirtless, literal heart eyes came out of your eyes. You gawked for a couple of seconds, admiring the contour of his muscles, only for him to turn around and smirk at you.

He knew what you were doing. Dammit.

"Hi, Mrs. Grayson," he teased. "Enjoying the view?"

"Shut up," you snapped, and held out the jar. "Open this up right now and stop screwing with my jars."

He smirked at you. "What's the magic word?"

"The magic word is 'I will beat you up if you don't open the jar up right now'," you responded, glaring at him. "Now. Open."

He laughed, tossing his head back, his voice echoing off the room before taking the jar. You watched intently as his triceps flexed when he opened the jar up with ease and returned it back.

"Thank you," you said, your voice having an edge to it. You were about to turn around before he grabbed you by the arm.

"What, no good luck kiss?" Dick asked huskily in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine.

"Even if I give you one, you'll still end up badly injured."

"C'mon," he murmured, planting a light kiss on your neck, his hands dancing on your waist. He squeezed your sides slightly. "I always fight better when my girl kisses me."

You looked up at him and snorted. "In your dreams," you responded, but he took this moment to crash his lips against you. You felt dizzy and couldn't help but to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

When the both of you stopped, he laughed, looking at you breathless, his blue eyes twinkling in the night sky.

"Knew you couldn't be mad at me for that long, Mrs. Grayson."

"Shut up," you grumbled, punching his shoulder lightly. "Go save Bludhaven, Boy Wonder."

He stepped out the window and then turned back at him, smirking. "You know I am, sweetheart. And when I come back, I'm gonna finish what I started."

#dick grayson #dcu #dick grayson x reader #dc comics #nightwing #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you

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atarathegreat · 1 day

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My 'Pup' König

KorTac, who was better known for its swifter breeds, did have some war types sprinkled in. Mostly German Shepards, but the one that stood out was the Colonel. Colonel König was a Tibetan Mastiff born in an unknown area to a German mother and an unknown, foreign father. Bushy tail and fluffy ears aside. the Colonel was an absolute unit and killing machine. König had the sharpest canines on base, sharpest senses and even the sharpest tongue when he chose to speak.

Speaking with other members was never an issue, the man gave the clearest orders of anyone, but he avoided women. Women were to be respected and treated fairly in his squads...but avoided because he was nervous. First impressions meant everything, and if he didn't go full Colonel mode, he would fumble his words and make a mess of himself.

"She's a Tibetan, like you, so you'll be training her." König was given his order swiftly and without him having time to protest. Everyone could see that something was bothering him, his tail down instead of curled as it usually was. No one dared to ask, seeing how agitated the man was. So, no one raised a finger when a female Tibetan started to follow him around.

"You're the Colonel?" Your voice startled him. König had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to even notice your scent behind him. Steel toed boot, meet steel toed boot. You blocked his kick with one of your own, wagging your tail happily as he growled at you.

Great, I've already made a fool of myself... König grumbled to himself as he lowered his foot to the ground. "Apologies, I failed to notice your approach." König held a hand out to you. It was strange that you wagged your tail at a man who had bared his teeth (something you couldn't see because of his sniper's hood) at you and growled with every ounce of dog in his genes. "All good, Sir. I was informed to find you for my first day of training." The way you smiled at him showed your little canines. He wondered if they were as sharp as they looked.

"Today I want you to show me what you know -"

"Nothing, Sir." The interjection was...annoying, sure, but König could handle it, "I am fresh from camp, Sir. Not an ounce of knowledge in my brain." König sighed and pinned his ears back, "Alright, then spend the day learning the base and I'll figure out what we'll do tomorrow."

König watched your fluffy tail bounce away to make friends and learn the base, just as he'd ordered. He liked that. An obedient little thing, weren't you? For the next week you showcased your obedience and willingness to learn everything you needed to. Getting attached to you wasn't something that König planned on; it was just that you were perfect for him. Little, obedient, strong, and he couldn't help but notice the way you retained his scent from all the time you spent near him. It made him mess up when you were near, fumble his words, and trip over his moves while fighting.

"You smell sweet, pup, what's your name?" A large German Shepard was looming over you and smiling so his canines stuck out. As if she'd be swayed by your pathetic teeth. König glared at the display of what was supposed to be elitism but only came off as desperate. The fur of your tail bounced as you wagged, "I'm Y/n. You are?"

"My name doesn't matter, pup." The soldier was carefully holding some papers, so his nametag was hidden. "But I tell you what pup," He leaned over her and whispered, grinning as he glanced up at the colonel. When your tail stopped, König moved. It didn't matter what happened, you always wagged your tail and angled your ears to whoever was talking. No tail wags, ears flattened. König didn't like it.

"-and I'm sure you'd take my knot perfectly. Wouldn't you?"

König snatched you up by the back of your neck and tossed you over his shoulder, growling deep in his chest. The German Shepard, as they both abandoned rank to take part in the dominance battle, got chest-to-chest with König and growled back. There was a heavy decline in striking fear in the other male due to König's hood hiding his teeth. You were aware of how scary the Colonel could be from training, so you carefully reached around and raised the mask enough to flash his shiny canines.

"She ain't got your scent strapped to her." The German Shepard snarled; his tail lowered to show aggression. It was a move König didn't take kindly to. "Then you must be nose blind, she reeks of me." König growled, leaning to get in the man's face, "Might wanna go to the vet and get that fixed."

"König..." Gods, the way your sweet little voice calling him anything but 'Colonel' made his tail perk, "I'm gonna bite him if he doesn't leave you alone..."

"Then how about we get away and I'll show them all whose pup you are."

#x reader #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #konig cod #konig x reader

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scoonsalicious · 1 hour

Text

3.4 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of Bucky's past, minor fluff.

Word Count: 482

Previously On...: Bucky and Lily went out to brunch, and Bucky lied about his upcoming plans with you.

A/N: I'm going to let you all know well in advance that, once I finish posting through Chapter 5, I am going to take a small break from updating so I can write (I'm thinking maybe a week, tops). I've had some things going on recently that have been taking up a lot of my mental and emotional energy, which has prevented me from being as invested in the story as I want to be, so I need to take some time to get myself in the right headspace to where the story just flows out. I'm currently only two chapters ahead, and that makes me nervous, so I would like to build my buffer back up again. So, there will be a pause in updates starting on Tuesday, May 14th, and updates will resume on Tuesday, May 21st. I do hate doing this, and I know that, as a reader, it's so annoying when you have to wait between updates, but it needs to be done in order to provide you with the best story possible. I probably should have taken more time between finishing Unwanted and beginning to post With Friends Like These..., but I was too eager to share it with all of you to wait, lol. I want to be upfront and honest with all of you ahead of time, so I hope you understand.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You’d spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon digging up everything you could about Bucky’s trial. At first, you were getting nowhere, not being able to find any information about ‘Bucky Barnes,’ but then you nearly slapped yourself on the head when you recalled Lily referring to him as ‘Jamie.’ Obviously, ‘Bucky’ was a nickname, and once you searched ‘James Barnes + trial,” you were nearly overwhelmed by the number or results you got.

Meticulously, you went through them, as if you were gathering intelligence for a military op. You read all about his history in World War II with Steve (which, admittedly, you sort of already knew about from Nat), but things took a turn when you discovered he’d been declared MIA: Presumed Dead, only to resurface around 2014.

You nearly started crying when you read what had been done to him– the loss of his arm, the experiments, the serum, all under the control of the terrorist group, Hydra. The brainwashing. And you really did start to cry when you read about what Hydra had made him do for them. The assassinations, the murders. Screw whatever Zadie and Rand thought. This poor man was a victim. One who didn’t deserve to spend a moment behind bars. Your heart positively broke for him.

You were wiping the tears from your eyes when Zadie popped her head in. “Hey, Major,” she said, a devilish smile on her face. “You got a delivery.”

You look back at her, puzzled. You weren’t expecting anything. Getting up from your chair, you made your way to the front reception area. There, on Zadie’s desk, was a beautiful gold bowl holding a live fuschia orchid plant.

“There’s a note!” Zadie squealed, bouncing on her toes and wringing her hands together in excited anticipation.

Biting your lip, you reached over and picked up the note. Unfolding it, you tried to make out the messy scrawl:

‘Major,

Thanks for bringing some beauty into my life last night. Figure it’s only fair I return the favor. Looking forward to seeing you tonight for dinner. - Bucky’

“Oh. My. God.” Zadie picked up a piece of paper from her desk and began fanning herself. “I don’t care how many people that guy murdered,” she said. “That’s the most romantic fucking thing I’ve ever seen!” She paused. “How did he even know orchids are your favorite?”

“I don’t know,” you said, gently running your finger along the edges of the soft petals. “I guess I’ll have to ask him tonight.” You looked back at the note, rereading it, and smiling. You felt your stomach fill up with butterflies, as though you were a sixteen year old girl again, getting flowers from a boy for the very first time. God, but this man seemed absolutely perfect.

But you were never this lucky. You couldn’t help but wonder when the other shoe would drop.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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utilitycaster · 2 days

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Hi there,

You said in the answer you just gave that, "the Nein mechanically played really well to the casts strength." Could you talk more about that? I'm someone who hasn't actually played D&D before, and everything I've learned has been through osmosis with CR, and your more crunchy posts have been really interesting to read, too.

Hi anon,

Thank you! I can answer but this is definitely pretty subjective in terms of how I see the classes they played and my view of the cast's mechanical strengths so know that you're getting one very specific perspective here. You will notice as a theme that I am not one for indecision.

Anyway: I think Liam and Travis are both notable within the cast for being decisive, in and out of combat, and both played characters with a huge array of options, as arcane utility spellcasters (plus Fjord's melee and, later, paladin abilities) and so having people who can make a quick, confident decision and stick to it with their spellcasting was crucial. Travis also has, as I once put it, court sense, and so having a character with options at basically any range in combat (from melee to eldritch blast range) was extremely good for him. I also just think they like utility casting, which, as my url indicates, I obviously think is awesome; but not all people like it and that's okay! I also just think they like it - both have mentioned on 4SD that Orym and Chetney are much more limited in what they can do.

I think Sam can get really hung up on the optimal and ideal thing to do at times. Really, the best way to put it - and FCG's death is a great example actually - is that Sam is not precious at all with his own characters but is worried about letting other people down. So I think the fact that Veth had a limited but interesting number of choices was actually quite good for him - he could make creative decisions (and even think outside the box, as with fluffernutter) but didn't have an endless list. It also still provided spellcasting, which is important to him.

I think Marisha is one of the strongest players on adding flavor to combat which is purely non-mechanical but is important in actual play if you are playing a character who does mostly the same thing. For what it's worth a lot of the things Beau played to her strengths were on the RP side (give the notetaker a character who has a reason to know a lot of lore) and also, I like monks but they are very straightforward characters to play in battle for the most part so there's not a ton to say, but I think she had a good sense of melee combat and would love to see her play more melee characters; Keyleth was obviously incredibly versatile, but this meant she did spend a lot of time in melee! Marisha also has decent instincts for tanking (Keyleth as regular tank thanks to wildshape and Beau as a dodge tank) so Beau allowed her to exercise that.

Taliesin is also a generally strong player in terms of mechanics and I think, honestly, his strength is that he doesn't seem to have a strong preference on what sort of class he plays and therefore was able to lean into a character who was almost purely support without any resentment over not getting the kill. In general I think Taliesin is very good at just...doing what his character is built to do, which seems damning with faint praise but honestly I think people who get really obsessive about Subverting Their D&D Class are annoying so this is praise and respect.

Laura is an interesting one in that I think she really likes to do Big Damage but she actually is quite skilled at utility casting. Having Caduceus definitely allowed Jester to shine in that she didn't have to serve as dedicated healer, but she also was a strong healer. Laura can be somewhat precious about her characters and I think being a healer is a good antidote for that in that you have the power to heal yourself if you get worried (honestly, this is why I started off as someone who played healers until I allowed myself to accept that dying on graph paper, as Taliesin once said, is fine). Being a prepared caster is also good for someone who, like Laura, can be competitive - it's interesting because she and Sam have a lot of similarities but I think respond in different ways, and Laura having a lot of options and knowing she can change them works well for her approach.

Ashley is also quite strong at flavor descriptors but I also think she likes doing damage, and I think Yasha was very much a "right character at the right time" for her in that barbarians are complicated in the sense of maneuvering, but not in the sense of options - it's a much easier character to jump back into after being away because she is, for the most part, going to be hitting things with a sword. I think she's doing a great job with Fearne too, but wildfire druid is MUCH harder to put down and pick up.

Really, in short, I think the cast members who thrive on having a ton of decisions had them; the cast members who at times have trouble picking what to do had a much more limited list which helped them; and those who don't really have a strong preference had other stylistic elements that were a good fit.

(I also happen to think, as I alluded to especially for Marisha's portrayal of Beau, that the Nein played to the cast's RP strengths as well and/or were given the time and space for the cast to grow into things they were less confident doing, eg: Travis and romance; and I think that does bleed into combat in that it helps you take actions that feel right for the character which in turn helps the other people around you predict what you'll do. It's the drift compatibility.)

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag #more generally the way i mentally categorize the cast and their characters for the campaigns is like #c1: i made this guy for a one shot i guess we're playing to L20 in front of strangers; strong RP & mechanics varied #c2: we are going to very carefully ensure we prove we're not a one trick pony; what do i really want to do now that i know what i'm doing?#c3: what haven't i done yet that intrigues me?#so i do think the nein just hit a particular sweet spot for that reason

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cherry-pop-elf · 3 days

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Hello! So, I hope this request is okay to ask, if not, I'm so sorry!!! (Especially as it is a triggering topic) --- TW ‼️‼️ healing from SA

I was wondering about a fic with george where the reader (gender neutral but afab anatomy) has maybe been put through something in the past (left ambiguous), and essentially is just ready to try more intimate stuff with george, and is able to just fully enjoy themself with him? Like a healing sort of thing?

I know this request is kinda different. I've seen your other posts about sensitive topics and thought they were great, and I checked to see what you are/aren't okay with (I hope I didn't get it wrong, if I did, I'm very sorry!), so I thought I'd send this in. I just thought it'd be a healing read! BUT, I understand that it's still sensitive, so totally no worries if that's the case!

Also, I hope this isn't too specific???? I apologise if it is!!!!

I hope that you're having a lovely day ^^

((Sorry it took so long! It’s been finals season, and since it’s such a heavy topic I wanted to be in a good headspace to work on it. Ya know?))

As someone who suffers from self harming ((I have an issue where I just scratch myself and my arms get scratched like crazy. They are vertical, so no one thinks they are ‘real’ self harming scars 🙄)) so writing George on a topic like this would be very comforting to me as well. Thank you for being so brave in asking 🫂 I’m so proud of you for speaking! This will be lovely

Kissable

George Weasley X AFAB reader

Warnings: 18+, heavy talks about Self Harm and Suicidal Ideations, gentle sex, lots of fluff and kisses, body positivity, disabilities, Umbridge, Fred gets to live because we need to lighten this heavy topic, lots of gentleness, wizarding war typical angst, deafness, body dysmphroia, it’s gonna be heavy and descriptive but also there is plenty of comfort to balance. Not sugar coating comfort. Sugaring coating can be so annoying. Trust me. I know

Life sure was different, when the war finally ended. The stress of it all was off everyone’s shoulders. The world was finally able to move forward. Death wasn’t at the doorstep. Life was suppose to be happier, but you still felt like it wasn’t. That you were holding yourself back. That even the battle of Hogwarts didn’t shake you back to reality. You felt bad, and George noticed.

“S’matter, jellybean?” He asked you, as he leaned himself against the railing. Having seen you space out again. Happened alot, but he noticed it more than ever now. As if he wanted to leave you to be stressed after all. This should be a happy time, but somehow it wasn’t.

“Just….Thinking.” You muttered, as you played with the end of your sleeves. You could hear him sigh, a deep one, as he watched. As if he knew something. Something you wish he didn’t. Seemed such a worry was made a reality, when you were both suddenly apparated into his office. A place for privacy, after all.

He’s been suspicious, but a constant wizarding war tends to take your mind off things. Along with busy with a school year, and starting up a business. Made any doubts get overrun with work, and stress, get covered. Not today, though. Not today.

“Love, we need to have a talk. A serious one, please.” That made your heart drop, as he would motion you to join him on the couch. You felt so terrified, as you were forced to sit next to him on it. Now having your hands held by his.

“You know I love you, and I want to take care of you. I love you so very much. We’ve been through so much together. You’ve been there for me, and I want to be there for you. You know that, right?” He asked, as you gave a sheepish nod. Wondering where this was going, but deep down knew he figured it out. He’s had it figured out for a while.

He’s not stupid, after all. You could only hide something like this for so long. Why you never turned on the light, how you used Umbridge as an excuse for anything that was accidentally seen. How you always wore long sleeves, even when going to bed. If you could hide your body, you did. But now? George could understand that pain, and he wasn’t having you suffer in silence anymore.

“Love, it’s ok. You know that, right? I’m not here to judge, or make fun of ya. Gonna be the last person to do that. I mean, look at me. Look at Billy boy. We know a thing or two about getting roughed up.” He tried to not directly say what he wanted to say, in a means to let you be the one to say it. To let YOU be in charge of it.

After the war, he just wasn’t the same. When Fred went in that coma, oh he was in utter hell. He was already recovering from his ear. Now he had to spend every day, wondering if his twin would live or die. How Umbridge caught wind of such a thing, and tried to pull something. Like trying to say Bill was qualified under the Werewolf laws. Oh life was hell, and he had to project somehow. Not the same as you, but to say there wasn’t a taste is an understatement.

“George, I really don’t want to talk about this-“ You tried to weasel out, but his grip on your hands only tightened. The sadness in his eyes left you frozen in place. He wanted to take care of you, and make sure you knew you were safe with him. Such a complicated mess it all was. Just made you feel worse, if anything.

“Love….Let me see you. Please. Let me see all of you. You see me, can I see you?” He tried, and your tears just welled up more. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Why he cared. Your brain just didn’t accept that people can love you. It’s hard to grasp.

“This is different-“ You tried. “Why is it different?” He rebutted. “It just is. It’s different when I do it-“ How the brain was complex, and a pain in the ass to have. Luckily, George knew a thing or two about them. You learn alot when running a joke shop. Kids come to you with so many problems. You learn things you don’t want to.

“I don’t want to force you, but I can’t have you suffer like this anymore. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Jellybean. You were there when I lost my ear. When I thought I was going to lose Fred. Umbridge, everything. Let me be there for you-“ He begged, as he forced your hand onto the side of his head.

Your palm would feel over the scars from the Potion Master Made Spell. How deep they were, and never seemed to properly heal. How familiar the texture was. The smoothness of cut flesh, as he no longer could hear. The lines that cut into his hair, cheek, and even face. It was nothing like what Bill suffered, but it hurt. Hurt no longer being identical.

With a shakey breath, you gave in. Ready to accept him screaming at you in disgust. To say all the mean things people have said to you before. Attention seeker, that you need to make them deeper already, that you look like a cutting board. Every insult, every mean remark. All of it. You accepted your fate, as you rolled up your sleeves.

The air was silent, but it wasn’t heavy. No, it was calm. Like the air was clear. For once, the weight was gone. You couldn’t understand why there was such a feeling of peace. Why wasn’t he looking at you with disgust? With hate? Why was he smiling?

“Hm, kinda remind me of Charlie. He’s got ink like crazy, same for Bill. You’ve seen them. Bills got these protection ruins, and Charlie has as many dragons as possible. You would look good with sleeves.” He smiled, as he gently held your wrist. Truly looking at them, and not flinching at all. He was looking at you. And wanting to make you feel like there was a chance you didn’t have to hide. That you were the center of it all. Not the scars. Not even asking why you had them. He didn’t need to know. He just wanted to know if you knew he could keep you safe.

The fact he started to kiss them was what had you sob. He was kissing something you hated so much. He was accepting it as a part of you. This was just what was part of your life. Your struggles. Your fears. Your hate. He was accepting that, because he loved you. You were what he cared about. Not what people thought.

It was such a tender moment, as you were able to let yourself cry. Let yourself have that good, needed, cry. All the while George took care of you. Kissing your scars, and holding you close. Just wanting you to know you were safe with him. Not rushing you. You never rushed him when he bursted into tears, no matter how random it was. So, you deserved that attention all the same.

“George…You know how I said I wanted us to wait until we were married?” You asked him, as you wiped your eyes. He would brush them aside, as well, as he nodded to you. Keeping his eyes glued with yours, as he tried to show you his full attention.

“It was kinda a lie. I didn’t want you to see me….But I think I’m ready now. I think you can see me now.” You consented, as he smiled. Clearly proud of such a big step. His pride made you want to cry more. There was no shame, or doubt, in those big brown eyes. He didn’t see you as any less, as before the topic was broached. It was as if you simply dyed your hair. It’s still you, under it all.

“I’ve been waiting for this, and I was willing to wait for never even.” He chuckled, as he kissed your cheek. Another reminder he was there for you. Not for some end goal. There was no end goal, with love. There was a continue. A continue for as long as the hearts wanted.

With a gentle kiss to your lips, the two of you were side alonged back into your shared flat. Fred would be able to handle the shop just fine, after all. It’s near closing anyway. With how close those two were, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew where George went. Even as far as why.

“I’ve always wanted to see you. So badly.” He sighed, as he kissed you again. Gentle, and sweet. Not this heated passion in the books or movies. Just tender, and making sure you were taken care of. In every sense of the word. This was love, not sex.

Just gentle kisses, shared between you two, as he helps remove your clothes. Allowing more and more of you to be seen on the surface. Every cut, bruise, stretch mark, imperfection, whatever you had. He was able to finally see it all, and wouldn’t stop kissing each little dot on your skin.

It was so scary. Scary to allow him. He was so proud of you to allow him. To allow him to witness you whole. He was so damn proud. Couldn’t stop his kisses all over your skin. Along with a few little playful ones, like right on your nose. Just wanting to make you smile. Know that you were safe. No matter how vulnerable you were. You allowed him to feel safe, when he lost so much. It’s a crime to not return the favor.

Open mouth kisses would trail over your body, as he helped you lay down on the bed. Slow, sweet, and savoring it. Understanding just how important it all was. No need to rush. No need to treat it as a one and done. This a moment to share, between two people who loved each other. So very very very much.

“You really are beautiful. I know I know. I can say it all I want, but I mean it-!” He whined at the end, making you smile. Ever playful, no matter the mood. Was very soothing. Made any heavy topic easier to deal with. He just made life easier, and his smile could sooth any coals under your feet.

There was one more little kiss to your nose, before he finally allowed himself to strip. His own body full of scars from so many things. War, failed experiments, Umbridge, death eaters, blood purest’s, friends turned enemies, the list goes on. Those scars felt different to you. He didn’t ask for them, yet wasn’t ashamed of them either. The mind can truly be so warped, but George was always one to be fascinated by the world. Willing to dive into that hellscape you call a brain, because you are in there after all.

“You are so beautiful.” He just kept on saying, before his naked body was pressed against yours. Playful little kisses were pressed all over your face, as your skin felt his. Felt his scars on yours, yours were felt on his. Just pure skin contact, as he was holding you close. Loving every little part of you. If it was you, he loved it. Scars and all.

“I’m ready when you are. And if ready is never, eh. Who gives a shit?” He would place another kiss to your nose, before your hands were around his neck. You were trying to mentally psych yourself up, and he was more than happy to wait. Happy to just admire you. Big ole Brown eyes, and a freckled smile.

“Yeah. I’m ready.” You nodded, as he gave you another kiss. One arm was used to prop himself up, as the other found your slit. Just being very gentle, and stroking it. Not yet intruding, but just taking it nice and slow. He was no virgin, after all. But you were, and he was going to treat you right.

Slow, steady, and calculated. A man who was that of an inventor. He knew how to move his fingers. Gentle over your slit, almost ghosting it even. Made you crave more, in such a simple gesture. Those rough fingers on such a sensitive part of your body. All exposed to him.

A kiss to your neck was given, as he finally slipped them in. Had you shiver, but he kept planting kisses on you. Easing you into such a feeling you were growing costumed to. How you always loved his big and rough hands. Always brought you comfort. Now they were bringing you pleasure.

“You already feel so wonderful. Bloody amazing.” He whispered, as he would kiss along your jaw. Just two fingers pushing in and out of you. His thumb even working at your clit, and it had you whimper a bit. Such new stimuli, but he was keeping it slow and gentle. Easing you into it.

“Don’t be shy. I can only hear so much, have mercy on me.” He teases, as it helped bring you back to earth. That this isn’t just sex. You were making love with someone you love. Made you smile, as he kissed the corner of your mouth. Drinking in the soft little breaths you left for him, before he snuck a third finger in.

“Oh you are going to feel so bloody good. I just know it. I can hardly wait any longer.” He moaned for you, as he was picking up his speed. That earned him more sounds from you, as your walls were coating his fingers. Showing you were enjoying yourself, when your voice was lost.

“Are you ready, or was this enough for one day?” More reassurance. That even now, when he’s so close to getting his turn at pleasure, he wanted you to know it didn’t matter. You matter. Almost made you cry.

“I’m ready, Georgie. I mean it. For once, I’m ready.” You would cup his face, and admired him. Those warm eyes, that imperfect unsymmetrical face. Those freckles, those scars, and that beautiful toothy smile. That’s your man, and he was all yours. Never thought you deserved such a wonderful man in your life. In this moment though? You finally accepted it. Even if it was temporary, you were able to fight your brain long enough to say you deserved this man. Seemed George could even see it in your eyes, as he pulled you into a deep kiss.

The tip of his cock felt so hot. As if he was just twitching in need. Had you feel so beautiful. Beautiful to know he was that excited to be with you. Hard to fake a feeling like that, after all. That feeling of a throbbing cock. Just hungry to finally feel you. Feeling you, he did. Finally slipping inside, as you pulled him closer. Moaning into his mouth, as the gesture is returned.

You swore he might be feeling more pleasure from it than yourself. There was a morbid comfort in that. Knowing your body could do such a thing. Ever after so much, it could still do good. Made your body relax, and had you enjoy the ride all the better.

The feeling of his hips meeting yours, and how he rolled them. Feeling those hip bones against your soft flesh. It just itched a scratch you didn’t know you had. Feeling this slender man above you, with his arms tense. Those muscles showing themselves off to you. Freckled and scared. So beautiful to you.

The moans he gave you had you drunk. They sounded so good. You swore you could get off from them alone. The feeling of him moaning into your mouth, as he kept rolling his hips into yours. Fingers tangled together, as you both just enjoyed each other. No need for words. Just embracing what your bodies wanted. The feeling of connection, and love.

It was like a beautiful dream. Nothing else mattered, in that moment. Just the two of you. Making love, and enjoying each other’s company. To feel the air grow heated, and sweat build between you both. How those easy rolls grew in speed, and had you both gasping each other’s names. Fingers holding on tighter to each other, as if afraid to melt into nothing.

“You feel so good-“ He spoke so breathlessly, as he would keep thrusting into you. All the while you moan openly for him. Your hands were trapped under his own, and you would give him squeezes of delight into those callused fingers. Allowing yourself to be louder. A mixture of allowing yourself to enjoy it, and a need to make sure he could hear how much you were indeed enjoying it. It’s the least you can do. Small acts go a long way, and you witnessed such first hand tonight.

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer-“ He admits, sounding so embarrassed. It was cute. He was always so cute. Had you smile, and he smiled back. Your smile seemed to comfort his blushing cheeks, as you two returned another kiss. A kiss, as his hips begun to thrust in an uneven pattern. Had you whimper for him, as he kept true to his word. He didn’t last any longer, and he was soon moaning your name into your mouth. Tangling it in your tongue, and his.

The heat inside felt so satisfying. To let yourself ride a high, and have it be with him. How your legs couldn’t stop themselves, and wrapped around him. Needing to have him as close as your bodies could allow it. As if needing to become one. It was truly like being a fire work. A burst of pleasure, and sounds. It all felt so good, and it truly did feel like it filled a void in your heart that you didn’t know you had.

Coming down from the high was treated slowly. The both of you savoring it. With him holding you, as he stayed where he was. His head snuggled into your neck, as you played with his hair. Your turn in giving him the gentle comfort. Allowing him to use his working ear to enjoy your breathing, and heart. No need to worry about words. Just gentle affection. Embracing each other, and enjoying a moment of existing.

“Worth the wait-?” You asked, as you two were finally in a more clear headspace. He took a moment to think, as he pulled out you. Had you whine, as you liked the feeling. That made him chuckle, as he was soon pulling a blanket over you both.

“Yes. Very much worth the wait.” He would reassure you, as he was now your big spoon. Making sure you felt safe, in yet another vulnerable moment. His legs tangled with yours, as he wrapped his arms around you. Giving you a hug, as he pressed his face in your neck. Enjoying your scent.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, but not out of sadness anymore. But pure relief. You will still have your dark days, but you had a bundle of sunshine to stay there. Stay, and wait, for when you could speak again. He wouldn’t leave you behind when things got rough. He was making sure of that. Not even processing how much this simple act of spoon was bringing such joy. He existed, and it made you existing easier.

“Love you, Georgie.” You said, as you stole a hand to kiss. His own lips returned the gesture, as they were right on your cheek. “Love you more, Jellybean.” He yawned.

That comfort of another body, it was just what you needed. For once, in a long time, you weren’t scared to fall asleep. You were happy to sleep. To get rest, even excited to wake up again. Because you knew one thing, and one thing that changed everything.

He would be there when you woke up, and that was what mattered. He would be there, every time you woke up, and sometimes that’s all it takes to make you wake up.

Your sunshine, always there when the rain clouds came. Always there, and will never leave.

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taradactylus · 1 hour

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Been off from tumblr a bit but I just wanna share my general thoughts about TSAMS, especially today's episode...

‼️Quick warning for suicide and self harm mention‼️

I feel betrayed. I legit cried. Out of embarassment, betrayal, and pure but well-reserved anger.

I'm not going to be quiet about how to show handled Sun's problem. Not one fucking media type ever dares to normally bring up suicidal problems, the people who suffer from this, the amount of kids and adults who DIE from such thoughts. This isn't about the overly edgy teenagers who want to normalize cutting yourself is okey and cool. This is about the people who suffered for months and years with such conditions while the world made fun of them or ignored their calls for help. Ignored the signs.

USA doesn't have much of a public transport where the show is going on. But here we do. And a lot of trains are late every day. Late for hours because of "mechanical issues". 8 out of 10 times the mechanical issue is a local kid who jumped front of the train. A teenager fed up with life. An adult who lost their way. An ederly too impatient for death.

I have waited months. Months. To see how Sun deals with it. A character I fell in love with not in a romantic sense, a character who shared way too many of my own problems from hallucinations from abuse till betrayal. A character who was pushed and pulled their entire life around people who slapped you then said they love you. I wanted to see how he heals out from it.

The signs were there. Everywhere. Sun said it out loud once that he at least fantasized about death. EVEN OLD MOON KNEW ABOUT THIS! He literally told New Moon Sun would be capable of doing it.

So why... why through Miku, the character used as the "weird fandom girl" symbol do they bring up such a delicate topic? A topic that is not delicate because you have to tip toe around the people who live with self destructive thoughts day and night, but delicate because it matters to be properly heard out AND NO ONE LISTENS!

Not one fucking media listens. A lot of us out there rely on fandoms. Stories we can escape to because the world never listens. And call me a self-projector all you want dear creators or whoever writes the story, but you either just pulled the cheapest and most dumbest way to close off a story line with solving Sun's problems off-screen, or you just legit don't give a fuck about people who "self-projected".

Honestly, what if I did? What if in a sense, I saw myself in Sun? A Sunshine of a character ruined and changed by the things that happened to him. Am I not allowed to relate to him? Am I an annoying "fan-girl" for caring about how he heals because I myself have no idea how to do it either? Or am I like Miku for hoping someone calls out on his behaviour because that's something I've wanted my entire life and never got?

And here I am, still somehow hoping Sun is lying. That he is in denial. That there is more to what was shown... but honestly? How long should I wait and hope while the character I started to like is now becoming a bit too toxic?

And with all due respect, I'm taking this episode personally. The creators watch the fandom. Probably have their secret accounts to see what the people theorize. And if Sun is not lying, and suicide is an annoying topic and we are self-projecting too much onto Sun, with all due respect, dear creators... grow the fuck up and educate yourself.

I don't need the world to pity my ass for having self-harming habits, wishing to die and even attempted suicide before (I'm getting my ass to therapy in the meantime so do not worry about me), but all I want from content creators to fucking educate themselfes before bringing up such topics. TO CARE A BIT MAYBE?!

I have survived my worst times, but not everyone does (it's not about who is weaker or stronger, only utter guilt held me back, without that I'd be long gone), andI want for those who has no help feel like they're heard and seen. Cause literally that's all itt takes sometimes to maybe save someone's life.

So yeah. I'm utterly disappointed in this episode. Not because I want the world to know that I'm suicidal and everyone should tip toe around me and "omg pls give me attention" ect ect ect...

Im disappointed because I had hopes for TSAMS to maybe, maybe be an example and bring this topic up normally for a change. But well... here goes my hope for an educational approach of suicide and self harm in a popular show.

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silverflqmes · 2 days

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Okay hear me out, may I request Cloud x reader fluff where we spend lovely spring morning together? Nothing nsfw just pure comfort, our cat laying in bed with us, laziness at it finest.

Off the topic I really adore your work! I'm quite new to ffvii, basically I've just started playing, but your work made me fall head over heels for Cloud haha. Anyway have a good day!

໒⦂ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐖.

notes. hello! thank you so much for the request and the kind words akajsks i’m still fairly new to ff7 myself, but i’m glad to have amplified your love for it and cloud<3 the cat saga continues✨ i did something experimental here so it’s a little shorter, but i hope it’s okay :’)

genre. fluff + comfort

disclaimer. before any confusion arises.. sora is the name of your cat, who was first mentioned in this post if you are eager to see more of her!

cloud strife x gn!reader.

sora’s purring joins the gentle whistle sung by the breeze that swept through the bedroom window, chiffon curtains dancing to the soft tune like delicate petals.

cloud couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a taste of spring weather — of bitter cold melting into tender warmth.

the change of seasons was hardly ever noticeable without trees to flourish the busy streets with life, lakes to freeze over at the gradual drop of temperature, and flowers to splash the otherwise monochrome edge with color in the spring.

perhaps, it made the planet worth saving after all. to have been rewarded for his efforts at the very end with the beauty of the world, along with his beloved partner.. and a feline friend.

your chest rose and fell with breath, quietly, but surely, eyes fluttered shut. an unspoken trust, which your boyfriend treasured more than he could verbally express.

it was too early to even be up right now for most people.. but cloud, unfortunately, had to represent his little company as its only delivery guy and employee within the next two hours.

he fought back an annoyed sigh at the mental reminder of it.. only to remember that you had still been fast asleep.

any indicative sound that threatened to portray his irritation and spill from his lips all but melted away, falling completely silent on his tongue. because how could he possibly ruin the serene image of you all bundled up and cozy.

the exasperated exhale died all together in the stream of his windpipe as his features relaxed once more in repose.

normally he preferred taking up long distant deliveries by himself, but on this particular occasion, the client happened to live in your seaside hometown — costa del sol. a place that was untouched by the unpleasant smog of edge, and instead painted in a kaleidoscope of vibrant coats.. rather than a trillion shades of gray.

a shift in movement made his mako tinted sapphires flash just briefly before sliding to your stirring form.

his ears caught a jumbled, almost incoherent murmur ( were it not for his amplified hearing ) and cloud wondered to himself for a moment what dreams had joined you in your slumber. something lovely, he hoped, a gentle caress to your conscience.. and not the nightmares that haunted him until dawn on some evenings.

moonless nights when cloud thought too hard for comfort, let alone decent rest.

although, those had been few now. infrequent, thankfully, all because of your solace-filled presence — pressed into his chest.. and the light nuzzling of your calico kitty tucked into his side.

a silent, meow-less request for breakfast.. or maybe not. maybe it was just to ask cloud to stay a little while longer, and enjoy that which he could not back in edge.

waking up to unsullied air- a mixture of floral aromas and the soft, but welcome dripping of morning dew traveling from petal to petal, was.. sadly a rarity, the former infantryman realized.

which is why he found himself sinking into the pillows and duvets in submission, allowing darkness to greet his eyes for another round of sleep. two hours were more than enough to get dressed and to his destination. so truly, all he needed was thirty minutes to be dressed and out of your childhood home.

the hour and a half remaining could blissfully go to cuddling you a little while longer, all else drowning into background noise as he would slip further and further, deeper and deeper. surrendering himself completely to your warm company, the serendipitous quiet, and spring morn.

notes. okay this is way shorter than what i normally write, but i hope it’s still good😭 not much dialogue, just cloud being soft and at ease for a change ahaha

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

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iwonderwh0 · 22 hours

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I still have unposted pocket ghost snippets and exactly one person asked for it, so. This snippet actually has a second part to it, about as long as this, but I haven't managed to figure out how to finish it adequately, so I decided to post that first part of it as it is. I'm a bit annoyed at myself for how many of them happen at about the same time and place but uhhh, it is what it is

Menu for pocket ghost snippets

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Hank finished his late dinner and put the takeout box to the coffee table. It was getting difficult to find a free spot on it from how piled up it had become in a few days. In an ideal world, Hank should have gathered all the trash from its surface and taken it to the garbage bin, but for that, he'd have to empty it first, and that'd require stepping outside. He didn't want to leave the house even for a few seconds — it was raining, and he found it to be a good excuse. Good enough as any.

"Oh, could you put my body on charge?" Connor asked from the speaker as Hank stood up.

Hank hummed and glanced at his phone, ensuring it was already charging – he learned from before and now knew better than to leave it unplugged.

"Is it not working?" he asked, concerned.

"My body," Connor repeated, "The real one."

Hand stared at the shadow in the corner of the room. He couldn't see the light of the LED light from where he was, and the fear of not discovering it started to grow on him. He swallowed.

"Can't it wait till tomorrow? Morning, I mean."

"Sure. It's not like the battery is about to run out any time soon anyway. Just thought it would be a good idea to put it on charge ahead of time."

It was reassuring, but not enough to remove the uneasy feeling that was getting stronger the longer Hank looked at the shadow.

"What will happen if it runs out?"

"My body will shut down."

"Temporarily, you mean."

"Only if it's put on charge the same day. Otherwise, my biocomponents will start decomposing."

"You're fucking kidding me."

Hank sighed and walked to the body. It was still awkwardly covered with a blanket he had put on it, and in the dim lighting of the living room, it somehow appeared even more dead than the day before. All pale and unmoving. The android's head was leaning against the back of the armchair, and Hank would have to move it to see the LED.

He didn't want to touch it, he thought, not like this, but reluctantly, he reached Connor's head with his hand and stilled. Synthetic skin felt cold, and the sensation of it sent chills down Hank's spine. It wasn't that Hank hadn't seen dead bodies or was especially disturbed by their appearance – over the years, he had grown pretty accustomed to it. To an extent, at least. This body, however, was different. It wasn't only because it belonged to someone Hank knew, and definitely not because it was android and not human – this, in theory, should have made it better. Easier. But instead, that was part of what creeped Hank the most about it, the ambiguity of its being: it wasn't alive, but it wasn't dead either. Something in it still signalised life, but not in the ways Hank was used to, not in the ways it would in a human. Android wasn't breathing, and his skin, as Hank just discovered, was cold. Dry, too. He wasn't sure if androids had something like a pulse so he wasn't sure he'd find any if he searched. There was only the light of the LED he could rely on, the one Hank couldn't see.

He sighed, and fighting his apprehension, slightly turned android's head to the side, finally revealing the yellow light, blinking on and off slowly. The same way as before.

Hank let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding.

Alive. Or in any case, not dead.

"Light is on, but nobody is home," he chuckled humorlessly.

"I'm not sure you understand the meaning of this phrase."

Hank knelt and picked the green cable from before off the floor, "Do I just plug...that thing back inside?" He felt slightly nauseous at the sight of how long and needle-like the connector part was. The idea of plugging it into the neck didn't inspire any enthusiasm within him. He could as well be asked to give an intravenous injection.

"No, it's for data transfer only – you need a thick black one. It should be on the table"

Hank looked around the table and picked the only cable in sight, neatly placed beside the computer. To his relief connector part was shorter and looked like it might have belonged to some computer itself, although unlike the one Hank currently had. He turned it around in his hands, studying.

"How come I've never seen you using it?" he asked, "I didn't even know you needed to be recharged. Haven't really thought about it, to be honest."

"I've been doing it when you weren't home."

Hank turned around and, desperate for eye contact, looked at the speaker, as if Connor could see him from it.

"Why?" he asked.

"I thought it might unsettle you."

"Uh-uh, a sight of an android charging is so unsettling a few can handle it. Christ, it's not like you ever cared about unsettling me anyway."

"Well, not in a sense of frightening. I just thought you might joke about it or find it inhuman, so I found it best to avoid this attention. It wasn't hard."

The confession felt like a punch in the gut.

"Hey, when did I ever say anything about-" Hank trailed off as the memories flooded back to him.

Shit. In a moment it felt like a reasonable observation, at times just a harmless joke. He had assumed android ignored it just as anything else he found to be unhelpful. Never had he even considered that saying anything about Connor's android peculiarities could actually influence the way he acted in his presence or result in him attempting to hide some of it from his eyes in the future. How come he never thought of it this way?

"I had no idea you're taking it this way."

"Oh no, I'm not taking an offence at it. It doesn't bother me," Connor assured him, "It bothers you."

Now this was starting to piss Hank off.

"Bullshit."

"You repeatedly asked me to stop sampling things because you hated to see it, so I started doing it when you weren't watching. I thought charging may fall into the same category. Just one of those things you dislike for whatever reason. I don't mind it, it's okay."

"-No, Connor it's not," Hank interrupted, "It's been a couple of months and you never told me?"

Dynamic rustled slightly.

"I didn't think of it as something worth sharing," Connor said, voice raising in defence.

The room fell quiet. Hank stared at the speaker, expecting it to say something else, but it was silent now, only slight rustling penetrating through the sound of a TV working on the lowest volume. He couldn't help it but feel like Connor wasn't entirely honest or fair in attributing all the discomfort to Hank only. In assuming it. Insisting on it, even.

Well, maybe he did deserve it, Hank thought. After all, he couldn't deny commenting on some of android's quirks in the past. He just never thought it mattered. Never thought Connor thought anything of it at all. Although Hank was sure about one thing – he wouldn't give two fucks if he ever saw him charging.

Connor spoke first.

"I didn't know it'd upset you," he said, quiet this time.

"To find out that you've been walking on eggshells around me all this time? Of course it fucking upsets me," Hank sighed, "I just want you to feel at home."

"I do."

"It's hard to believe when you barely even have anything."

Hank looked around, searching for Connor's belongings around the room, but found that the only objects he could attribute to him were two cables: one thick and green beneath his legs with uncomfortably long needle-like connector, the other he held in his hand, "You know, usually people have something when they move in, and it makes it look accordingly. With you it's just... nothing. Like you're not even here or ready to leave any moment."

Maybe he is, Hank thought.

"I'm not people."

Hank scoffed, his eyes not leaving the cable in his hands that he now held tight.

"I know. I know that you're not."

"-But you're more comfortable when I act as if I am," Connor finished for him, "You see, that's why I was charging in private."

"Fuck me," Hank released the cable and watched it drop to the floor.

"I'm just telling the truth."

"Thanks."

With an increasing urge to have a drink he strolled towards the fridge. He took a bottle of beer out, stared at it for a moment, then returned it back to the fridge before opening a kitchen cabinet and taking a bottle of whiskey instead. He searched for a glass, but it appeared as if all the glasses and cups were already in use. Scattered around the house or piled up inside the sink, awaiting to be washed.

"Fucking great."

He unscrewed the bottle and took a few generous swigs. Embarrassment, hot and tight, gradually overshadowed by the burning of another kind. He took one more sip to drown it completely, but with no avail — it'd require more than that.

He couldn't care less about charging, probably wouldn't even notice it. It was unfair accusation, and bitterly Hank wanted to rub it back. He swallowed this urge with another gulp and set the bottle aside. Then changed his mind and took it back with him.

The speaker stayed quiet as Hank returned to the couch and stared at the screen. Channels flickering on and off as Connor was flipping through them. Over the course of three days Hank got used to the sound of abrupt phrases or songs cut short with a flip of a channel. It sounded like presence.

"I'll do it tomorrow," Hank promised.

Channel switched to an advertisement clip, a man in uniform holding his thumbs up.

Hank stared at it hypnotised until channels switched again.

"You did it on purpose," he said.

"It repeats every half an hour."

The channels switched again, now to display a fragment of music video, something from the recent hits. 'Over and over again' was its name, shouted during the chorus part accompanied with big inflated letters.

"Jesus, are you actually watching it like this?"

"In a way."

"You want to play something instead?" Hank suggested, "I have a few games in my library or you can pick something else if you don't like what I have."

The screen blinked into the digital library and scrolled through the entries.

"Yes, that could work," Connor said.

He scrolled through the list a few times, up and down. Pointless repetitive nature of it reminded Hank of the coin Connor used to toss around. A gesture weirdly anxious on his part. And annoying. He did comment on that as well, didn't he?

He groaned and took another sip off the bottle. Then finally set it aside.

"Wanna join me?" Connor asked. Something about the tone if his voice made it sound more like an apology than a question.

Hank could feel the room around him starting to spin as the alcohol was now getting absorbed into his bloodstream.

"No," he shook his head,"you should be online, though. I'm sure you can find a company."

He lay down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. The lights from the screen were reflected from its white surface.

"You should go to bed," Connor suggested.

"I'm staying," Hank grumbled. He had been sleeping on the couch ever since the first night Connor spent in his phone. He dreaded the silent emptiness of his bedroom. Plus, the bed was still undone and the sheets...Shit, he left them in the washing machine, didn't he?

"Fuck," he muttered and started to get up, but changed his mind and returned back. 'What does it matter now, anyway?' he thought.

Connor hummed in a question.

"No, nothing," Hank waved his hand in dismissal, "Nothing important."

He sighed, his head heavy against the pillow.

"Nothing at all."

#dbh #snippets from my notes #pocket ghost #dbh hank #dbh connor #platoniconk

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