#its. its a good thing but it seems so stupidly out of reach

[straykats]

sometimes i entertain the thought of like. everything ending up okay and then i get even more scared and anxious and idk why

#like what if i get a stable job what if i dont have to worry about everyone the way i do rn #what if i do manage to move out what if i do come out and its okay and what if i do get the #confidence to build new relationships and stuff and what if i can cope with my friend moving interstate #and what if my parents splitting becomes the new norm for me and i can manage it and dont break down every second day #and what if i manage to actually work on my original wip on the side #and what if idk i can get published as well #and what if i can come to terms with and move on from all the things that happened in childhood #and what if my brother and i are okay and we can actually have good conversations and what if #im able to reconnect with my cousin and maintain our relationship despite all #and what if my parents are civil with eachother and i can see them in the same room and not worry about whats going to happen #and i can be in their presence without wanting to rio my skin off and i can relax and not mediate every single conversation #and what if i can hug them and what if my friends are right and im not actually a burden #and what if i can still be friends with them and or be at peace with changing relationships #and what if i do manage to pay off all my student debt and other loans i'll probably incur #and what if its like. okay. like. #its such a scary thought and it kight be because it seems so far off and the possibility of it being okay means #that i need to survive this and get through this and thats just another expectation put on me and maybe its scary because #i dont know if i'll be able to meet this expectation either yknow like #its. its a good thing but it seems so stupidly out of reach #you cant imagine what you dont know etcetc #anyways. assignments first existential dread or whatever later #kat talks

[tragedybunny]

Sunlight and Stars in the Sky part 2 - Astarion x F!Reader

First part - here

Weary and embarrassed you try to put distance between yourself and Astarion. But you slowly come to realize things are changing between the two of you.

Astarion is gone when you wake up, probably out hunting, and you breathe a sigh of relief. At least you won't be able to embarrass yourself further. Throwing yourself at him, being refused by him of all people, forcing him to let you into his tent to calm down, and that nonsense you'd spouted, gods he must've been so annoyed with you. 

All he wanted from you was a bit of fun, some enjoyable interludes during this journey you'd found yourselves on. You weren't so naive that you thought there was more to it. Yet he'd somehow found a little place in your heart. Which you had stupidly exposed to him last night with that stars in the sky drivel. If he kept his distance from now on, you'd know why. 

Head pounding from the wine, you fumble around for your boots. Slipping them on, you hurry back to your tent, and throw yourself under the covers, glad you didn't run into Astarion. The rest of the night is filled with fitful sleep, the drink making you nauseous and your memories driving you almost to tears. When the sun at last rises, the camp awakens muted and somber. Unable to face him, you wait until the scent of breakfast fills the air to finally leave your tent. 

Naturally he's somehow right there. "Good morning Darling," even he seems muted after everything, probably worried you'll be all over him again, "feeling better?"

"A little, sorry for the trouble last night," you murmur hastily, trying not to look at him before rushing off, unable to make yourself listen to his conciliatory response. 

Breakfast and breaking camp take far longer than they should and your solemn crew takes to the road that leads beyond the monastery to the shadow cursed lands much later than they should. As seems to be your fate though, not even a simple road is easy, and a group of undead bar the way. Body and mind aching, you fumble through the fight, spells missing their target, and reactions slowed. You don’t see the monster that’s crept up on you until it’s nearly too late to dodge its flailing attack. Suddenly the earth lurches and you’re facing the dirt. Panic constricts your chest, death is so close, even all you managed to overcome wasn't enough. Rolling, you try to get your feet under you, and find your assailant hovering over you. Your lungs inhale what is likely your final breath and you tense just a crossbow bolt sprouts from its forehead. It stumbles back and Karlach’s axe removes its head from its body. 

Most of the gory sight is blocked from your view as Astarion appears over you, crossbow back over his shoulder, pale hand outstretched and brow furrowed. “Are you alright my Dear?”

You wince and take his hand, twice as humiliated as before. Reaching a sitting position, you stop, your body unwilling to go further. Everything from the Nautiloid, to the Creche, to making a fool of yourself, bears down on you, and it’s all too much. One win at the Grove amongst a tide of wounding losses. Hands rub at your eyes to push away the tears. “Sweetheart,” Astarion is suddenly crouching next to you, brushing your hair out of your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head, pulling away from that touch that you want to be real affection so badly. 

“You look exhausted.” Before you can protest, he’s turning to the rest of the group. “We should stop for the night.”

“Tsk'va, we’ve barely made progress,” Lae’zel snaps, any good humor she's developed gone for the moment, “we still have worms in our head, did you forget that whilst basking in the sun.” 

His eyes narrow for a moment, and he looks like he’ll shout back, but he contains it. “We’ve all had a hard time, and we’re in rough shape. Let’s get some rest and start fresh in the morning.” 

They don’t need to be told he’s talking about you, collapsed in the dirt, and you can feel their eyes turn on you. “That sounds eminently reasonable," Gale chimes in and the rest assent.

"Let's go find a nice spot," Karlach says brightly, taking Wyll by the hand and leaving the main road. 

The others follow in their wake until just the two of you are left. Reluctantly, you start to get your feet under you, feeling as weary as he says you were, and silently start off towards them. The crunch of his boots tell you Astarion is just behind you, a small mercy as he can't see the state you're in. Your chest aches, you can't seem to banish the tears that keep threatening, and nothing feels like it has a point anymore. When you catch up with the others, they're already setting camp for the night, with Gale prepping dinner with as much cheer as he can muster and the others barely speaking at all. The whole of it seems like too much and you collapse on a log near the fire, Astarion joining you seconds later. 

Shifting closer, he looks like he's about to speak when the sounds of an argument draws your attention and he just sighs instead. "The Underdark is backtracking, a waste of time and dangerous." Lae’zel is shouting at Shadowheart. 

"Well it might deter the interference of your people," she returns.

"That is a point, this road is already dangerous," Halsin chimes in. 

"What do you think," Wyll has wandered over from setting up his tent and turned to you. For the second time today, your whole group is looking to you, only this time they're expecting that leadership you've shown them this whole journey. 

"I…" you just can't find it in you.

"Gods," Astarion growls, "can you all not make one simple decision without her? She's tired and you're putting this on her. It's bad enough you expect her help solving all your petty problems."

"But it's fine if it's your petty problems, right Astarion," Gale accuses, his face dark. You know his problem is far from petty. 

"Say that again," Astarion hisses and does something you've never seen him do to one of your companions, he snarls and bares his fangs. 

"Astarion," you scold, stirred from your stupor finally and he gives you a wounded look. "Let's just get some dinner in everyone. Then we can discuss the Underdark." They need you, it would hardly do to give up now. 

"Right, you heard the lady, give her some space until dinner is done," Karlach waves them off and gives you a wink. 

Part of you expects Astarion to be angry with you for the reproach but instead he gently takes your hands in his. "How about I get the tent set up, you can rest before dinner. Or you could stay there the whole night, you don't owe them an answer." 

The tent, your mind reels. It's his tent and he's never been fond of anyone infringing on his space. Is he still feeling sorry for you? You cringe, and pull your hands from his. "I can stay in my own tent."

"Oh," he seems to shrink in on himself. "I had been wondering since you were gone when I got back last night. Did I do something wrong? I admit I'm new to having someone close like that.” His voice is quiet and unsure, and nothing like what you’re used to. “Or maybe it's my temperature, I know I'm not exactly very warm," he offers and laughs somewhat awkwardly.

"I just don't want to…" For the first time today, you really look at him, and you don't see the same Astarion you've been traveling with. His eyes are wide and soft, his expression full of hope and longing and not scorn for the world around him. You find his hands where you left them, as though waiting for yours. Something has changed, something that makes your heart flutter and chases away the darkness of your thoughts. You were going to say pretend; pretend he wanted you there, pretend you didn't make an idiot out of yourself; but that doesn't feel right anymore. "Impose," you slide your hands back into his and small smile ghosts over his features. 

"Love, I told you last night, you're not imposing. Well you were very drunk," a small kiss on your cheek makes you flush, “perhaps you don’t remember.” 

“Some rest is probably a good idea,” you admit, giving in to the ethereal moment that seems to be burgeoning between the two of you. 

He squeezes your hands before letting them go. “I told you so,” his usual smirk is back in place but it’s softer than before. 

While he’s gone you try to temper yourself, this could be temporary, and you should focus on your very grim situation, your losses and setbacks are still real. But it all vanishes the moment he’s leading you back to the tent and settling you into a pile of pillows and blankets, some of them from your own supplies. Your things, mingled with his, the two of you, joined together. With your approval very visible from the smile you can't hide, he joins you, pulling you into his arms so your head rests against his chest. From around the fire you hear voices, friendly banter, spirits are lifting, hope is prevailing. You’re glad but still so tired, and it’s so nice here with Astarion, a little peace for just the two of you. “Thank you, I really needed this,” you murmur sleepily. 

“Think nothing of it, my Sunlight,” he kisses the top of your head. 

It brings back the other night, but there’s no awkwardness for you now, you spoke true, no matter what happens from now on, he’ll always be the light of all your nights, the beauty out of darkness. “My Starry Sky.” 

He gives a small hum of approval, “I am growing fond of that nickname,” and he holds you tighter. There’s a note of sadness you think in his voice, but you’re almost asleep, maybe you imagined it. 

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x f!reader #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #x reader #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #my fanfic #my writing

[lno-x]

What about character design in Tristamp?

A person had a question for me, what is it about character designs in tristamp? It's like Vash from Tristamp and Vash from Trimax/98 adaptation are COMPLETELY different characters, and my answer to that is: they are REALLY DIFFERENT CHARACTERS, and I'll explain why right now.

To begin with, I would like to note that I have a great deal of trust in the Orange studio and its co-founder, Eiji Inomoto. Orange is one of the best CG studios in Japan, known for such acclaimed adaptations as "Beastars" and "Land of the Lustrous". These are not just some studio, but a really big guys, and by big I mean that Inomoto's experiments with the frame rate in the film adaptation of Lustrous at one time were a revolutionary thing in animation, which was picked up by the animators of the spiderverse and then that's all led to the beloved dynamic animation of the "Puss in Boots" sequel. I mean, these are THAT big guys. I'm not talking about the fact that Inomoto boosts the development of 3D in the anime industry as much as possible and literally shits from a high bell tower on the fact that everything is spitting with 3D animation purely out of principle.

Okay, the studio is cool, it is unlikely that they will make a bad product, we figured it out, but what about the designs? They don't even look like themselves! Vash does not look like a mop at all, he has lost his leather pants and berets, and looks like some kind of sucker in sweatpants and a windbreaker, and Meryl gives the impression of a schoolgirl who has strayed from the school excursion, instead of the stately lady in caprons, as we used to seeing her. Only Wolfwood hasn't changed much, except that he doesn't know how to tuck his shirt into his pants and has undergone whitewashing (which, by the way, I'm not ironically upset about). So, is that mean designs is bad as hell? Nope. Just because things look different doesn't mean it's inherently worse. Again, remember that tristamp is a REMAKE, and their task is not to stupidly repeat the same thing, but to breathe new life into the franchise, looking at it from a different angle. And I think they did a FUCKING GOOD job on it.

In interviews and at conventions, director Kenji Muto and producer Katsuhiro Takei have repeatedly said that they are big fans of the original manga and the film adaptation of 98, but it was important for them to touch and reveal those aspects of the story that their predecessors did not reach their hands on.

That is why, despite the fact that the Tristamp is very close to the original source (manga), the studio plays out many details differently or even saves them for later, so that the audience can fully experience the development of the characters. Therefore, in Tristamp, everyone looks much younger than their previous versions and / or very different from them.

The easiest way to prove this, however strange and unexpected it may seem, is by the example of Meryl. In the manga and anime 98, we immediately see her as a stately lady with a bunch of derringers under her cloak, but they don’t tell us how she came to this and what led to this. Yes, there is literally a page in the manga about some colleague who told her about self-defense and sort of taught her how to shoot, but finally he is drawn on one frame and, in general, we don’t give a shit about him.

While in Tristamp, this colleague has a name and is one of the most main characters - this is Roberto. Throughout the series, he acts as Meryl's senior mentor, protecting her whenever possible and pulling her out of trouble by the scruff of the neck like a kitten. That is why she looks so youthful and charmingly stupid compared to her previous version. Throughout the series, she literally hits herself with her heel in the chest, saying I AM!!! MERYL!!! STRIFE!!! I AM NOT NEWBIE!!! while Roberto calls her the same way, ignoring all her protests in this regard, and I think this was done for a reason. Specifically, in Tristamp we see her almost in the past, when she has not yet learned to protect herself and be fully responsible for her decisions, although she is very eager to do so. Although Roberto is a character, for the most part he is still a crutch and trigger for the development of Meryl. Through his death and the transfer of HIS gun to her, we see right before our eyes how she changes and from a shy "newbie" turns into the confident Meryl Strife. And after the timeskip, they generally show us the scene of exactly how she becomes the senior and takes Millie under her wing. And by the way, her image visually changes too.

I repeat once again, there was no such development of the character of Meryl in the manga, in the 1998 film adaptation nether.

Orange build her development completely differently and in their own way, despite the fact that she, in fact, is the same Meryl Strife no less than other versions of her. She just a little different character, which goes to the image already familiar to us, passing through kind of other events

The same thing happens with Vash! At first, he doesn't look like himself at all, but towards the end, we see how he takes on a more recognizable image. I think that in fact by the second season they will all mature and look much more "canonical", this can be seen from the concept art but in general

Tristump characters go a different way and get a different development, as happened with Meryl above, therefore, I I think we should perceive them rather as completely different characters that have common roots

And by the way, the studio Orange discussed everything very closely with Yasuhiro Nightou (author of the manga) and he gave her green light and creative freedom, because he saw how reverent people are about their job and want to develop the story. He even drew his and studio designs together!!!

All in all, the tristamp designs are really quite different from the original, but I don't think that's a bad thing, as the studio does it purposefully and cleverly to give them the development that the manga or the '98 film adaptation lacked.

Again, this is my personal opinion, and it’s worth notice here that I’m far from being an old fan and I flew into the fandom just a month and a half ago, so the character design initially did not cause me rejection, like many old fans.

But in this tirade, I tried to be as objective as possible and describe what was what, thanks to come in my ted talk

#trigun #tristamp #trigun stampede #long reads #long post #i love meryl stryfe if you dont get it yet #meryl stryfe #roberto trigun #vash stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #lno-x talks

[antimatterz]

lucky day

luka x gn!reader

summary: you found the cutest plushie in a claw machine, but can't get a hold of it. fortunately, a handsome stranger shows up to help you out.

cw: modern au, first meeting, probably ooc luka ?

content under the cut | masterlist

today was not your lucky day.

for the nth time in such a short span of time, you popped yet another coin into the slot, once again purchasing three attempts to get that adorable plushie from the claw machine at the local fair. you lost track of how much you'd already spent, and maybe that was for the better. you were pretty sure it was getting out of hand, but you were this far in and you didn't want to walk away empty-handed after putting in so much time, money, and effort.

a small group of kids was looking at you curiously as your hand moved to the joystick, navigating the robotic claw to be precisely above the desired plush. they'd been staring at you for quite some time now, because it must've been obvious how desperate you were to win. for you, it was torture, but you guessed it was pretty entertaining for them.

as you deemed its position to be correct, you slammed the button with a little too much enthusiasm, and the claw began its descend. hope filled your being as it gnawed at the plush, dragging it upward a few inches. but then the weight came to be too much to carry, and the stuffed toy fell down again.

it went like that for a good twenty minutes at this point, and although you've been stubborn for the past fifteen minutes, you were about to give up. you were out of coins, and the utter frustration you felt wasn't aiding in the game. yeah, it was time to head out and go home and forget about this stupidly cute plushie. you'd just find it online and get it way cheaper.

with a huff, you turned around, ready to stomp away from the cursed machine. but you nearly collided with a body that stood there and stumbled back in surprise. afore you was a guy with vibrant red hair and a smile that was evenly radiant. striking blue eyes gazed at you, and you momentarily forgot about your previous endeavors.

that guy was handsome.

"i'm sorry, i didn't see you," you brought out. "excuse me."

before you could get caught staring, you ambled away, but his voice calling out stopped you from moving any further.

"you wanted that stuffed toy, right?" the guy asked, his index finger pointing at the plushie you so desired.

"mhm," you nodded. "i just suck at... this." you vaguely motioned towards the clawing machine, smiling awkwardly.

"gimme a moment," the red-haired spoke, reaching into the left front pocket of his jeans and whipping out a coin. he tossed it up, flipping it mid-air before catching it again and popping it into the slot in one swift motion. he offered you an easy smile before he turned his back towards you.

the machine came to life again, emitting beeping sounds and lights flickering enthusiastically. you watched in awe as he confidently moved the claw towards the right position, and you realized what was going on. this dashingly handsome but unfamiliar guy was trying to win you the plushie you wanted so badly? you blinked. things like this didn't happen in real life, did they? then, why was it happening to you right now?

"alright, let's go," the guy hummed, before the palm of his hand met with the button. a buzzing sound followed, and the claw dipped deeper and deeper until it grabbed the plush.

together, you held your breaths as you gazed at the plushie's journey. the machine dragged it up and up, and with each stutter and hiccub, you feared that it would fall down – like it did when you wasted countless attempts. but it didn't, and it moved to the left until the stuffed toy dangled right above the square deposit. the claws opened, dropping the toy right where you wanted it.

victorious music came from the machine, and the handsome stranger bent down to retrieve it. he got back up, and when he was about to hand it to you, he seemed to think of something and retreated his hand.

"as a thank you, i think you should name it after me, hm?" he smiled cheekily, and it was such a contagious smile that the corners of your lips also curled up.

"that's fair," you agreed. "then, what should i name it?"

"the name is luka," the red-haired guy, now known as luka, introduced himself. he finally handed you the plushie, and you were quick to hug it against your chest.

"thank you so much, luka," you grinned widely. "you have no idea how much i wanted this one."

"oh, believe me, it was kinda obvious," luka laughed. "that's why i was like, okay, alright, i see a cutie and– oops."

he quickly slammed a hand over his mouth, but you had heard him clearly. for the second time in such a short time, you gazed at him in awe, and he looked back awkwardly.

"t-thanks," you uttered.

"w-what's your name?" he asked. "i don't think i asked."

"i'm y/n," you told him. "thanks again for the plushie, i'm–" you didn't know what else to say, so in order to emphasize your words, you rubbed your cheeks against the soft fabric lovingly. "i think the name luka suits it really well."

"well, y/n," luka began, scratching the back of his head in a cute, awkward manner. "if you want, you can return the favor by meeting me here again tomorrow? maybe we can play some games here together and–"

your gaze lit up at his words, and the shift in your expression allowed relief to ghost over luka's face. your answer was clear before you had spoken, and the red-haired guy smiled brightly.

"great, meet me here at seven pm?" he asked, and you nodded happily. now, you were really looking forward to that.

not only was this guy strikingly handsome, but he also was a sweetheart, judging from the way he stepped in and won you the plushie you failed to obtain by yourself. and now he kind of asked you out? it made your heartbeat pick up in joy, and you couldn't help the massive smile that almost split your cheeks.

you thanked him another time, and again, and again, until he jokingly shut you up by putting his index finger against your lips. after that, you bid your goodbyes – or rather, you parted ways with a see you tomorrow. on your way home, you were afloat in dreamland, because aeons, that guy stole your heart instantly.

maybe it was your lucky day, after all.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai #— enyo writes #honkai: star rail #luka hsr #luka #hsr luka #honkai star rail luka #luka honkai star rail #luka x reader #luka imagine #luka imagines #luka x you #luka x y/n

[thedo0zyslider]

Martyn is...not very happy with how things have turned out thus far. Things with him personally, he means. The game has been relatively normal so far, expect for a few more purple symbols than usual that is.

Currently, Martyn is curled up in the Big Dogs Shack, hiding in bed like a child. It's for a very good reason, part of him thinks so anyways. The rest of thinks it's a pretty stupid one, and that he's too old for all this....this shit he would do as a teenager. But here he is anyways.

Against his will, his tail flicks in agitation again. Martyn groans and buries his head into the pillow. He had a new stupid tail and new stupid ears that just seemed to have a mind of their own! He doesn't want to a damn cat! He's a Big Dog, for gods sake!

Well, it's not that he doesn’t want to be a cat. He quite likes the animals, and he's a cat person at the end of the day. It's just.....They'd made him into a calico cat. The species that is, for the most part, female. And Martyn has been away from all that stuff for a while. He's been done transitioning for years now, so why'd They have to make him a blummin' calico cat!? They know how sensitive he is about it! (Or at least, he thinks they do...) Buncha jerks...

He turns in the bed again, just as the door creakes open. It seems the other Big Dog has entered their base. Martyn knows it's Jimmy, because his friends footsteps are familiar to him as breathing is. And also he's the only one it could be, realistically.

"Martyn! There you are!" Jimmy says, his footsteps growing closer to the bed. Much to Martyn’s dread. "I've been looking-"

The blonde knows he will have to force himself up with a sigh, because of he doesn't, the canary will just do it for him. So Martyn sits up, turning to face his old friend, able to feel his ears flattened against his skull already. "....Hi Tim."

"I was gonna ask why you were hiding but...I think I know why." Jimmy mumbles, taking a few hesitant steps closer. His wings are pressed tightly to his back, and his whole body language is one of caution. It's nice, that's he's being all considerate.

"Obvious innit it." Marytn huffs, his ally sitting down on the bed next to him. He shakes the covers off himself, properly revealing the tail as well. Jimmy’s eyes flick towards it, and his eyes widened with something. He thinks it's a new understanding of the situation.

"You scared to go outside now?" The canary asks, shuffling closer. Martyn let's him, until their shoulders are touching. The touch is comforting, something he kinda needs in the moment.

"Yes!" He groans, burying his head into Jimmy’s chest. The other just lets out a huff, and removes him, so they can have this conversation face to face. "What if someone-"

"You really think anyone here is gonna be like that?" Jimmy asks, raising an eyebrow. And Martyn has to be really off his game, for Tim to be the smart one here. Its usually the other way around in these scenarios. "Besides, four of us already know."

"I know. Sorry." He sighs, running a hand through his hair; which had gotten a little messy during all the flopping around he'd just done. "Old habits I guess."

"It's fine." Jimmy smiled earnestly, reaching out a hand. He gave an experimental scratch behind Martyn's ears, and the other couldn't help but lean into it. He didn’t want to lean into it, that was an instinctual thing! The blonde still didn't want to be a cat, and never would be.

"I knew that would work!" The canary smiled, looking stupidly pleased with himself. Martyn let out another groan, his face flushing in embarrassment. He totally didn't lean into it when Jimmy went to give another scratch, and he certainly did not purr about it either.

"You little rascal." He huffs, moving away so Jimmy can longer reach him. The canary just laughs, and lamely tires to chase after him. As a result, Martyn ends up on the floor giggling, and closer to the door.

Jimmy leaves him a few minutes later, saying he should consider going outside. Now that he's feeling better and all. Martyn hums, and takes that into some real consideration.

Maybe he will finally leave his house...

______________________________________________________________

Once leaving the house, Martyn isn't to sure where to go. He doesn't really wanna run into anyone and face any questions about the....everything. Unless whoever he runs into is one of five people. Those five being the four that already know, and the only other person that has weird gender stuff. That he knows of, anyways.

So he ends up knocking on his ex soulmates door, and praying no one else is home.

The front door opens, and the blonde suddenly wonders if this was a bad idea, and if he should be regretting all his life choices.

"Martyn. What do you want?" Cleo asks, leaning against her front doorway. They don't look displeased to see him, but they also don't look to happy either. Martyn ignores that, the look the zombie is shooting him, the growing ball of anxiety in his stomach, and tries to force out words instead.

"Um well, you see-" He begins, a little unsure. As if right on cue, his tail starts flicking. Cleo notices, and raises a curious eyebrow The blonde holds back a sigh at the movement he cannot yet control, and gestures to the ears now atop his head. "It's about....this."

"Okay, you're a calico cat now...?" The zombie says, not quite getting it. Which is fair, considering he has never talked about it before. (Something he probably should've done with his damn soulmate back in Double Life, but the past's the past and this is the present.)

"And calicos can only be...." Martyn trails off, letting the statement finish itself. He knows Cleo's smart enough to work it out.

"Oh." She says, her eyes lighting up in understanding. They stop leaning on the doorway, and move out of it completely. "Get inside."

"Thanks." Martyn says, slipping inside their house. God, even all his movements fell cat like now. Which sucks big time. It's making him feel worse, if anything.

"Don't mention it." Cleo says, shutting the door behind both of them. No one else seems to be home, since the house is quiet expect for the sounds the pair makes. Martyn is grateful for this, because he doesn't want Etho to overhear this, and Grian already knows. The zombie shows him to where one of their beds are, and gestures for him to sit.

"So....does anyone know about it?" They ask, watching as Martyn awkwardly plops himself down on the white bedsheets. On a bed Etho probably stole a few weeks back, no less.

"Yeah. Jimmy, Pearl, Grian, and Bigb." He says, wrapping his new tail around his legs. He strongly resists the urge to kneed the bed. "And you now, I guess."

"So whoever makes these games just forced you to come out, basically." Cleo says, sitting in the opposite side of the bed next to him. She looks a little pissed at that, so much so Martyn believes she would fight the Watchers herself. He's touched by the implied sentiment, really.

"Yeah..." Martyn mumbles. If he's upset by it, and he definitely is, the blonde tries not to show it. He doesn't wanna dampen the mood more than his presence normally does.

Cleo repeats the same sentiment Jimmy had just an hour before, and Martyn wants to scream just a little bit. "Well, no ones gonna hate you for it."

"I know! Jimmy already told me that." He said, throwing his arms up in the air a bit. Like a petulant child would. "It's just scary."

He continues with a sigh, putting his hands back down and clutching them at his sides. Martyn wonders if there are any hidden claws he could unsheathe and accidently dig into his flesh. "And Ren. Ren won't know. And I kinda wanted to tell him before anyone else...."

"I think he'll find out, in his own Ren way probably." Cleo says, surprisingly reassuring. Martyn doesn't know why he's surprised, when this is exactly what he came here for. "I just have a feeling like that."

"....Okay." Martyn mumbles, somehow, feeling reassured by those words. Some part deep down in him knows that Cleo is right, and that Ren will find out in his own, diggty dog like way. Like he was always going too.

"You should just walk around, honestly. No hiding the tail or the ears." Cleo says with an easy shrug. And for some reason, Martyn finds himself taking their advice. But it's always been like that, he takes the zombies advice almost on instinct. Like some part of him knows that she's admittedly smarter about some things.

It was just another weird thing about their relationship, he supposes.

"Really?" Martyn says, consideration made clear in his tone. "They're gonna say something..."

Cleo just snorts, and gives him a little bit of a look. "Do you think Bdubs is smart enough to put two and two together? Or Joel? They'll probably just think you have cute little ears now."

"You have a point..." Martyn mumbled, now actually somewhat sold on his ex-soulmates idea. His tail flicked again, but probbaly with a more positive emrion than it had before. "....You think these are cute?" He added with a sly little smile, not one to miss that comment at the end there.

"Get out before I make you." Cleo snorted, going to try and shove him off the bed. Martyn held back a giggle, and quickly doged out of their reach. It didn't work fully, as they manged to shove him just a little bit.

"Yes ma'am." Martyn said, getting off and the bed and to his feet with a slight stumble. "Lovely speaking to ya" The blonde called over his shoulder, not looking back as he made his way towards the door.

"Can't say the same here." Cleo yelled after him, but it clearly wasn't too serious, and there was a slight laugh in her tone still.

Martyn smiled at the sound, and let the house feeling much more confident than he did when he had entered.

______________________________________________________________

In taking Cleo’s advice, Martyn had decided to just do so chores. Said chores included boring and mundane things, like gathering wood, stone, food, and maybe placing a couple of cheeky sweet berry bushes down here and there. Just in case they did manage to nick someone.

He would not seek out people like he normally would. The blonde decided go just simply be for once. Whoever found him found him, and he would face the questions and stares when they did.

It wasn't of any surprise to him when Pearl was the first person he spotted. Martyn had a feeling something like that would happen, especially since he was a little near to the mounders base.

He spotted his friend as she left her base, slipping outside of the Mounders walls to do whatever. Pearl hadn’t spotted him just yet, but he couldn't just not call out a greeting, that would be rude. And he wasn't gonna be rude to Pearl, of all people.

"Hi Pearl!" Martyn yelled out, throwing his arm up in a friendly wave.

The brunette looked up in suprise, her head twisting around rapidly. When Pearl finally saw where he friend was standing, her eyes lit up. "Martyn! Hi!"

He smiled back, and walked forward, so they could talk easier. As he moved forward, he saw the way Pearl’s eye widened at the sight of his ears, and suddenly had a very good idea of what her reaction was going to be.

"Your ears!" Pearl says when they are standing infront of each other, reaching to cup his face. Martyn let's her, very aware of the fur that now lines his cheeks as well. She squishes them in wonder, before going to fiddle with his ears. The blonde can only let out an amused huff at all her prodding, leaning into the contact on newly formed instincts.

"Yeah, I'm a cat now." He responds, cheekily flicking his tail around her legs. Pearl lets out a gasp, her eyes moving towards the new apendage.

"And you have a tail!" Pearl almost squeals her words out, watching the blonde's tail flick with even more wonder if her eyes. If that was even possible. Martyn almost has to hold back a chuckle.

"Yep. And I'm a calico." He says, trying really really hard to hide the sourness he feels over it. But apparently he doesn't try hard enough, because Pearl still catches it, and a frown stretches across her features.

"If anyone's rude to you, I'll kill them myself." Pearl says firmly, giving him another scratch behind the ear, for she is still holding his face in her hands.

"Greens can't kill people!" Martyn giggles, leaning into the touch without even thinking about it anymore.

"Doesn't matter!" Pearl says a little too cheerfully, rubbing the fur on his cheeks again. Martyn had forgotten half his friends were cat people, admittedly like himself, and that a lot of them were going to have this reaction. So today, and maybe the next few, were going to be filled with a lot of this. A lot of pets and ear scratches. Not that he exactly hated it, it was just something the blonde now had to get used too.

"We should go show B and Grian! And Jimmy!" Pearl exclaimed after a moment of rather comforting pets, her eyes lighting up once more.

"Tim's already seen me!" Martyn says, letting his cheeks get properly smushed, like a grandma would do.

"Well BigB and Gri havent!" Pearl's insistent on it. And before the blonde knows what's happenings she's grabbed him by the hand, and is now taking him towards BigB's weird hole base. Martyn accepts his face, holding back a few more laughs as he does so.

They thankfully find BigB at his own place, and not the heart foundation, exactly as Pearl had thought they would. She flags their friend down by calling out his name until he hears her, mainly because neither of them really know where he would be hiding in his labyrinth of a base. This strategy works surprisingly well.

BigB appears from around a corner, like some sort of damn ghost, and Martyn has to stop himself from jumping out of his skin. And to both of their surprises, Grian follows behind him, wings a little messy. They had to have been in the mines then, for the parrots wings to be full of that much soot and dust.

The two men approch them cheerfully, and rhe blonde forgets everything Cleo, Pearl and Jimmy had been telling him all day. He figures this is going to become routine for the day, and maybe the one after that.

"Martyn," BigB said, studying his friend carefully. Like the difference wasn't obvious. The blonde tried to shrink under his gaze, acutely aware if the way his tail flicked behind him. "You're a cat now."

"Isn't he adorable!?" Pearl exclaimed, going to rub his ears again. Martyn wrinkled his nose at that, and moved away best he could. Just because he had ears didn't mean Pearl could pet him all she wanted. Though she would damn well try, regardless of his opinion on it.

Grian snickered, watching his tail move from side to side in amusement. "Not so much of a big dog now, eh?"

"Oh hush, bird brain." Martyn snorted, suddenly smacking the avian in the leg with the very tail he was so amused by.

"Hey!" Grian squawked lightly, his wings starting to flare out behind him. Martyn smiled smuggly, and shuffled a little out if the way, knowing his friend was not afraid to smack someone. With his hands or his wings. The other two people laughed at their antics, giggles filling the air.

Maybe Cleo was right after all. Maybe walking around wasn't such a bad idea after all. Even if Pearl and BigB were insistent on showing him off to everyone.

It's not really what Martyn had in mind for the day, but he'll go with it. Especially if it's with these three people. Maybe Jimmy will even join them, and make his day even more unexpected.

Yeah, yeah that would be nice. A day running around with those four, just like they used too. That would be nice.

______________________________________________________________

By the end of the day, Martyn had been paraded around to everyone. Every member of the server had seen his new tail and ears, and most of them had fawned over it and called him cute. And maybe he has attempted to scratch a few certain people for such comments as well. Not many, just a few. To test if he had claws is all.

There were only two interactions that stuck out in his mind, ones that he would probably replay over and over again in his head for a few days at least. And the first one happened when he stumbled across an old teammate

He found Scott once Pearl brought him up to the cherry Blossom, still dragging him around by the hand like a toddler. Martyn just let her do so, not wanting to kill her enthusiasm. And the cherry trees did smell rather nice, now that he had a better sense of smell on him. So going up the pink mountain wasn't all too bad, even if his feet were staring to tire from all the walking he'd done. BigB had long since left them for that excat reason, actually, and Martyn couldn't fault him. There were walking around the whole server without a horse.

After marveling at him for a few minutes, Gem takes Pearl into her house for something, a trade the blonde thinks. Impulse hadn’t been home at the time, reportedly with Bdubs or Skizz. Which just leaves Martyn and Scott, the two men standing in a silence that is only a little bit stilted.

Matyn awkwardly shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets, tail flicking against some loose cherry petals on the ground. He feels like there's something they should talk about, considering how close they were last game. A game he knows they both remember. Thankfully, Scott wants to get to the point, taking a few thoughtful steps closer to the blonde.

Scott hummed, scanning over his ears and tail. He'd clearly figuired it out, why Martyn was a calico. He'd probabky done so instantly, actually, knowing Scott and how stupidly perspectives he tended to be. "You never told me, back on the island."

"Never came up." Martyn shrugged. Yet his tail still flicked uneasily, old memroies making some part of him feel unsure about this situation. Even though he knew not to be. "You're not mad, are you?"

"Nope." Scott smiled reassuringly, bumping their shoulders together. "I wish you had, but I understand why you didn't."

Martyn smiled back at him, and playfully flicked his tail around the others legs. "So you're not mad?"

"Not at all." Scott confirmed, right as Gem and Pearl excited the formers house, stuff now being carried in both of the women's arms. Martyn internally groaned at the thought of having to lug that around with them, and hoped Pearl had the sanity to make a stop back at home before going anywhere else.

The next encounter he remembered was at the end of the day, on his way home. As sunset was falling and just under an hour after he and Pearl had parted ways.

On his way back to the mesa, he runs into Tango. Or rather, he runs into Ren in Tango's body, as some part of him is saying.

He's not going to question, or even think about why They decided to do that. Martyn just feels his breath hitch, and his limbs go stone cold.

The two of them just stand there for a moment, looking and staring in what has to be either shock or awe. Martyn cannot tell which.

Ren stares back at him knowingly, through Tango's red eyes, and Martyn has never felt so observed in his life. It's as if his old friend is searching every inch of him, taking in everything so he never forgets it again. And his new features as well, features he stares at way too long for Martyn to be comfortable with.

Ren slash Tango opens his mouth to speak, and for a moment Martyn is a little scared. He's scared of what the other will say, and what cruel words might be hurled at him.

Then he remembers that this all nonsense, and that these people are his friends. They are not like those people, they are not like that.

He remembers Cleo and Jimmy’s words for what has to be the seventh time that day, and feels a little better once more.

"Hey." The other man says, tentative.

Martyn mumbles back. "Hey."

Ren slash- he's just going to call him Ren, since that's who's really speaking here, let's out a small smile. Martyn misses his dog ears and the little fangs you could always see when he moved his mouth. Not to say Tango was and looking or anything, his body just wasn't the right fit for this one particular dog guy. "Been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yeah." Martyn smiled, feeling himself go a bit less stiff by the moment.

"Your ears," Ren says, sounding a little uncertain of how to broach this topic. Martyn can't blame him for it, because he isn't quite sure either. "You never told me before."

"I didn't know how." The blonde says, honest. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's not a big deal." Ren smiles gently. Martyn smiles back, no longer feeling scared anymore.

Everyone was right. No one would get mad at him. His friends were not those kinda people.

"Well, Tim's waiting for me back at Baxter." He continues after a moment moment now comfortable silence. "See you a different time?"

"Yeah, a different time." Ren confirms, giving him a small wave as he starts to turn away. The blonde waves back.

"Makre sure Tango knows somehow, will you? I don't want him being left out." He gives one last request. He'd hate for one of their group to be left out because of them, after all.

"Will do!" Ren calls, and that is where their meeting ends. Both men go back to their own homes, confident they will see each other once again. Maybe not here, but elsewhere, in a different place maybe.

Martyn goes home, to his syupid little dog house, feeling a lot better than he had when he woke up that morning.

#ron.writing #martyn inthelittlewood #martyn littlewood #inthelittlewood #martyn itlw #secret life #traffic series #trafficblr #zombiecleo #jimmy solidarity #I have been wanting to write this for over a month haha #Do not tag as ship :] #bigbst4tz2 #grian #pearlecentmoon #scott smajor #rendog

[baby-jaguar]

Lust by Nature {Part 2}

Masterlist, Part 1, Part 3

Read on ao3

Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!Reader

Warnings for this chapter: None

Word Count: 4,460

Summary: Snooping and being caught twice, Sparring with the boys when an unruly hit makes them see more than they expected, and a heated moment in the training grounds.

A/N: Chapter 2! We are slowly laying our good graces down brick by brick, and seeing a bit more from Price as you integrate into the team.

Being on the task force led you to believe Ghost, Gaz, and Soap, were an odd bunch, but they made it work. You kept quiet those first two weeks, having only followed Price around like a duckling until directed otherwise. Being respectful and keeping answers short. Staying in line with your designated work.

By the end of the first month, after you had earned your new name, you started getting comfortable. Seeming like a brass stick was shoved up your ass previously, the sergeants tread lightly around you, much to their dismay, to find out what you’re like but couldn’t disobey Price’s warning glare. 

Gaz was a sweet man, charming, and you could see that a good percent of the time he easily got his way. Soap was loud, and funny when he pleased, but he was a smart man who could easily be dangerous. Ghost was the type of person to respect your space if you respected his. Being more to himself in tasks or duties, he was actually more boisterous than when you initially met. 

As you integrated into the base, there had been quite a bit of preparation for your arrival. Being the fat paycheck that you are, the base had allocated a small wing of a barracks level to TF141. Whispers that the men got stipends just to be on a team with you had floated around. 

Good for them. 

There was a preemptive rule placed on you, designated by Price, of course. You were allowed to join the mess hall for meals during morning and lunch, but when supper time came you were stationed in the common room. 

The rule to stay in the common room wasn’t necessarily bad, and it made sense; Placed to keep you away from the rowdy soldiers looking for a way to warm their beds for the night. Keep your allure hidden and gate kept by the team, adding a brighter glare of the enigma they were. 

What didn’t make sense was how stupidly high the cabinets were in this place. 

“Living with Bigfoot couldn’t even be this hard.” Grunting, your fingertips only skim the edge of the glass as it leans before settling again. Huffing, finding no one around, you jump up to place your knees on the counter to stand on them while being able to finally peer into the top shelf. 

The cup was immediately in your hand but a tall box in the back keeps you from getting down. A stash box?

Curiosity peaks your eyebrows, placing the cup down before trying to reach for the mystery; Towards the back with paper plates and random birthday napkins kept for celebrations block its way. You can’t reach it just yet, so you take it upon yourself to stand on the counter, now having enough height to dig your arm into the cabinet. 

“Are these drugs?” It’s mat black with a worn-down print of fern trees over a forest floor. It's heavy and shaking giving no noise. 

“The fuck are you doing up there?” 

You don’t even have a moment to startle before the tight grasp of hands on your hips makes themselves known. Now almost pissing yourself, a squeak leaves you before clasping the box to your chest. 

It’s almost as if you’re a toddler, being pulled down from your place on the counter while your knees buckle before planting your feet on the ground. When looking up, you’re met with a skull mask. 

“Uhm… getting a glass.” Answering Ghost with nonchalance, offering up the box in your hand. “Then I found this.”

Incredulous brown eyes shift down for a moment, then move his hands from your hips to snatch the damn thing away. 

“Anyone ever tell you not to snoop through people’s things?” As if Bigfoot himself, he reaches up to place it back in the original spot, no effort needed. 

“Hey- What was in that?” You’re sandwiched between the counter and his body, reaching to grab his wrist in an effort of bringing it back down.

“None ya’.” Such an eloquent answer from a British brute. 

“This is open territory, I have a right to know.” Beautiful comeback on your part. 

At your insistent pawing, his free hand wraps around your wrist before securing it with the other. “You’re too small to even take it from me, Saint.” Ghost’s hips press to your lower back as he attempts to close the cabinet. “So knock it off.”

“Too small to take what, Lieutenant?”

Both you and Ghost freeze to look up into the blue eyes of Price standing in the entrance. Leaning against the wall with arms crossed, it doesn’t take a genius to see his chest is puffed out in addition to the glare on his face.

The body pressed to your back suddenly shoves you away and into the counter before stepping away. 

“She was tryna’ get into the box. Top shelf.” Turning to watch the interaction, Ghost gives a nod toward the cabinets and it's enough to soothe Price’s glare. Yet his chest is still puffed out.

Huh. Jealousy is a good look on him.

“And maybe something else.” Testing and taunting him after recovering from the shove, you take a seat on the counter. “But seriously, what's in the box?”

Price’s jaw sets at your little comment, taking slow steps towards you while giving Ghost enough side eye to send him to the couch a few feet away.

“A bottle, not to be touched. Simple as that.” Price’s presence comes to stand in front of you, eyes narrowed while glancing over you. “That satisfy your curiosity?”

“Somewhat. Just makes me wonder why I can’t see it.”

The smooth uptick of his mustache shows as he licks his teeth, settling on giving a nod before approaching. As if deja vu, Price moves to trap you on the counter making room for himself between your legs.

“Keep your head still.” The deep rumble makes you want to squeeze his hips with your thighs, but refrain as his hand holds the back of your head to tilt it down. With the cabinet opening behind you, he reaches up and leans forward to grasp the box.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t take this moment to rest your head on his chest, letting his scent and warmth feel much more than what the moment was.

“A gift from some friends. It’s empty, but kept as a reminder of them.” Taking a look at the bottle, it's a large and interesting decanter. Made of white ceramic, small details of blue brush strokes that mimic the plant its derived from; Agave. It’s a tequila bottle.

“So you keep it in a box, in the back of the cabinets, to remember them?” It’s ridiculous that they memorialize something yet refuse to display it proudly. “Why can’t you guys put it in the open- or even put it in your office.” Remembering where you are as soon as you look up, Price’s eyes that rival the blue paint are already staring at you.

“Someone would either take it or break it,” Emphasizing his words with a pointed look, “And we usually like to look at it and tell old stories when we think about our time with them. Oh, that's actually sweet of them.

“Are they… dead?”

A scoff leaves Price but Ghost, always eavesdropping, answers. “The only thing that can kill Alejandro, is Alejandro. The same goes for Rudy.” A short laugh follows before looking back down at his phone.

What an interesting thing to say.

“They seem like a lovely pair.” You answer back to both of the men in the room, but Price doesn’t allow any more time to look over the bottle. Closing the box, his hand comes back to cradle your head before putting it back. 

Pulling away after shutting the cabinet, he stays close. “Craziest cowboys I’ve ever met.” He looks far away for a moment, absent-mindedly smoothing down your hair from where he ruffled it. It only takes a moment for him to come back and realize your faces are inches apart, noticing the soft smile that bleeds into a coy smirk at how well his hand feels in your hair.

“Right, let's have some dinner.”

—

You didn’t often let your human appearance go, but some would say they’ve seen the illusion flicker. Most nights after a shower or finally alone to yourself you’d indulge. Like taking off a a helmet that was too tight, or clothes that squeezed you the wrong way after wearing them for hours, the relaxation to just be yourself was a luxury and comfort these days.

While training in hand-to-hand, it was quickly discovered that you were a sufficient predator. Having enough experience to teach Ghost and Price a few new things, you were often paired with Gaz and Soap as Price directed the scenario in what to do. Even if your body was stuck at your current age, it didn’t mean you were small; Having the human capabilities to grow your natural muscle added as a visual aid to show how hard you’ve worked for well over half of your time roaming this earth.

Sparring with the four others, Price stands on the side of the mat with arms crossed and the occasional guidance barked out at the underdog. You’re often paired with the lieutenant, serving as each other's warm-up. Gaz sits on the ground, eyes narrowed while tracking each movement. Soap, having gotten his legs tugged on too harshly by Ghost, sits opposite while stretching his hips as light grunts leave him. Ghost circles you as you do to him.

“Test his footwork Saint, man’s top-heavy these days.” Price grumbles, the amused tilt in his voice not lost on anyone especially Ghost as he grunts in response.

A few more steps around each other before taunting with a shift of your ankle that draws him to make the first move. Coming at you almost adjacently like the fucking bulldozer he is, Ghost reaches to hook his arm under your thigh and another hand around your back to push you face first into the mat.

Using the momentum of falling back and before he has a hold of you, you bring yourself down in a slide to avert him, but immediately transition to tangle yourself around his leg as you pull him by the belt, wanting to at least bring him on the ground. The man is tall as a skyscraper, and you haven't met anyone like him in the company before joining this team. The move works to an extent; Bringing him down to topple onto the mat, he rolls to grasp at your locked arms and slides his arms around your chest. “Little brat-” 

“Lock ‘im down, sweetheart.” Come’s Price’s voice as you both grapple in a heap on the ground. The pet name makes your head flutter with knowing he’s watching and rooting for you. He wants you to win. Always has since he first trained with you himself.

With the sudden hold around your chest, while Ghost is trying to pry you off, you manage to break it with a stiff elbow. The muted thud is covered by your clothes rustling before managing to turn yourself and put the man in a leglock. A few moments pass as he tries to shake you off, but leeching on his leg muscles signals his two taps on the mat.

“Cheap shot-” He groans as soon as you let go, gaze narrowed while stretching his abused leg out.

“You almost crushed me when you got on the ground, I earned those taps.” Reaching to grab your water bottle and finding Gaz already handing it to you, a shit-eating grin creeps up the corners of his mouth.

“All’s fair, love.” Ghost quips, earning a scoff from Soap.

“Aye, Dinnae think that's howtur saying goes, L.T.”  He calls out as you roll onto your back with a heave. The excitement from rolling around now calming with your breath, taking a moment to drink water as the boy's bicker. “You level’d Ghost?” 

“Peachy keen. Lovely, really.” The snark is evident, but Ghost moves to sit himself onto the sideline with a grunt. Your eyes scan over the others, their gazes shifting away as you catch theirs. Price’s eyes stay on you but wander over your body before speaking.

“Good enough warm-up for you?”

Releasing the water bottle from your lips, “Could have lasted longer in my opinion.”

“Right.” Price drones, and in your side-eye, you can make out a singular look of a chortle from Soap. Price continues, moving to the opposite end of the mat. “Well let's see if I can give a good enough ride then, eh?.”

Standing and stretching for a moment, your feet find their way back to the spot previously starting at. “Ready?”

Price matches your stance, but not as deep of a crouch. One thing you’ve been trying to get the men to work on is lower and shorter targets, so they’re still adjusting. “Steady.” Comes his reply and signal to begin.

He makes quick work of throwing a punch to get you to duck down and step back. The right hook, aiming for your jaw, comes a second too late as you duck under, countering with a jab to his ribs.

Before you can pivot and get into position on his side, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist and pull you into him. The second hand finds a place across your back and is strewn across your hip in a tight hold, leg pushing behind your right knee to get you to the ground.

Latching onto him, your body retaliates by throwing your arm across his chest with your hand at the base of his neck. Combined with a forceful twist to break his balance and pull him onto his back instead.

Price takes the immediate queue, still keeping his tight grip on you. Pulling you by the belt loop of your pants now unceremoniously being yanked down on top of him, his back against the mat while your back is against his chest. The ache in your ribs and lungs comes back at full force once the crook of his elbow finds a place at your neck and begins to squeeze in a steady pressure.

In a moment of sheer instinct, your legs fan to twist your body to be stomach to stomach, but miscalculate his legs trying to cage yours. His knee coming up at just the right wrong time; Your clit lands directly on it.

A shocked yelp is stolen from your lungs, eyes widening in surprise and shock from the unexpected sensation. The sound rings out in the room, the uptick in the pitch being involuntary and a sheer second of vulnerability as your body freezes in response.

Realizing his mistake, Price immediately lets go, sliding your body off of him. "Fuck, you alright?" He asks while crowding over you, the others looking on with their jaws dropped.

When you don't speak instead, just shake your head. It's enough to make Price scramble to a sitting position. “…Saint?”

Eyes wide and breath ragged like a fish for a few seconds as the brutal waves of electricity travel up your spine.

What they see is an entirely different scene.

Black horns look so delicately and meticulously placed upon your head as if you were a doll; the ridged black and dangerously sharp figures curl in a small turn before pointing up. Your hands- one on your groin and the other on the mat, have the tips of your fingers that are painted in an eerie black. Sharp talons decorate your nail beds in an ethereal shade. The usually subdued fangs now gleam in the yellowing lights of the gym. But the real kicker is your eyes.

Red irises that carry a depth of hell's fire look up at the ceiling as you blink slowly. Still lost in the moment as your lungs stutter, your legs pushed together as the initial thumbing calms down. The men’s blinking only confirms to each of them what they see. 

“Holy-”

“Jesus fu-”

“Fuckin-”

“Hell’s bells.”

Price sits on his haunches and leans over to get a better look. “This what you looked like the whole time?” Eyes roaming over in slow strokes, each end of his curious gaze begins again at the top of your head.

A small cough slips as you sit up, planting your palms down while shifting with a groan. Face drawn in a grimace before looking up. “Wha-”

“Ahm pure done in; she’s git a tail.”

At the sound of Soap's now ruggedly thick accent, your eyes meet theirs to be met with shock, disbelief, and morbid curiosity. On your back comes a set of black wings that mimic those of a bat while the tips are shaded with a red hue. Underneath those, is a long, thin tail that sways back and forth gently in small arcs. The tip of it shows to be a heart.

“Oh.” Looking down to see what they’re looking at and finding your glamour spell completely dropped to show you. The entirety of you. “Didn’t think that would be what did it.” Their silence still lingers. 

“Is this going to be an issue? I can cover-“

A clearing of a throat- Prices, you can tell by how many times you’ve heard it after he smokes, now making the others refocus. “No- No. Not an issue at all, Saint.” He drawls with enough time to make heady eye contact with each of the other operators. “Not a problem. At all.”

That’s as much of their first warning that you’ll be hearing. A beat of mumbled agreement leaves the men while the Captain’s hand comes out to offer you a means up. “There a reason this happened?”

“My illusion can drop when distracted or hurt suddenly. Like something plugged in the background then the power shuts off.” Giving them a small show of yourself, turning in a circle as your tail and wings move for more effect.

A low whistle before, “Wouldn't mind feedin’ ya m’self, she-devil.” Soap’s simpering makes way to you, and you’d laugh if your body wasn’t seriously thinking about the ways you could take him on the sparring mat right now.

“Johnny shut the fuck up.” Ghost having enough common sense to reel him back before he does wind up in your clutches. Always a smart man for the sergeant's sake.

A grin splits your lips, tail slightly swaying behind you with an excited flick of the tip. The red in your eyes gleams at the thought of a fulfilling experience, and your tongue can’t help but lick at the tips of your fangs. “We can go right-” 

“Like hell you will.” 

The sudden hand on the back of your neck catches you off guard, clapping your skin in a moment of control. Price, now hoisting you up once his thumb wraps the side of your neck, pulls you up. Wings fluttering to lift you in his hurried and somewhat dragging hold, a scoff passes your lips once he stands on the side of the sparring mat with you.

“Ghost and Gaz. Start up.” He quips cooly, his eyes never stray from you. Eyebrows furrowed in a disappointed stare, and it’s one you haven’t encountered from him yet. He’s not pissed but something has been stirred up inside of him.

“You get your meals when we’re on assignment. Do not tempt my men, because I know how that will end.” You’d give it to Price for holding his authority when faced with a creature so new to him, but the twitch of his gaze to your mouth knocks him down a peg in your books.

“Yes, Captain.” Your muted answer rings out clear for him but the shame of being publicly reprimanded burns your cheeks. His hand squeezes the back of your neck before dropping. Settling your gaze on the men wrestling with faint grunts, you hear Price return to your side a moment later as you both watch on. 

You don’t hide yourself for the rest of training. No one asks you to.

In the end, when tired and feeling no need to bring your illusion back up, Price comes back to your side while trailing the others out of the gym. Slick with sweat, your wings give a light beat of air that helps cool you. 

“Wear this when you leave. Don’t need others gawking at you.” Softness in the sudden murmur makes your head snap to your side. The fabric falls over your shoulders, and the scent of him wafts strongly from it. His jacket. 

The weight of his hands now rests on your shoulders, holding there while his eyes dance precariously upon your horns for a moment. “Leave the horns and eyes, eh? Should be a fun one walking you around like this.”

And while you could just simply make them disappear, wearing his scent on you is far too appealing right now. Tugging the jacket closer to you as you walk out the doors, you give a soft sniff on the neckline.

“Let the angel lead the pack if we’re showin’ ‘er off.” Holding the door open for you, Gaz’s brown eyes give a sharp glint of cockiness while a smile marks his lips. You match his look with ease, moving towards the front.

Safe to say, you felt like the team’s hidden gem; As if a scary guard dog, you made enough room in the hallway to make it seem scripted. Behind you and the group in total, Price watched on with a wry smile as his bucket hat hid the dangerous look in his eyes at the soldiers who stopped to stare.

A week later would reveal how much your natural form has been playing in his mind.

—

“Saint. Got a question for you.” He’d murmured while watching you work on infiltration drills. His cigarette occupies his mouth while eyes track your movements; He stands on a riser behind fake walls, a built scenario of a breach and clear house with fake targets marked on the walls and stands in dummies.

Deciding to finish rounding the next corner and taking aim at a wall target, it takes a few moments before approaching the spot beneath him. “Sir?”

And as if doubling the wait time you gave him, a childish game, he inhales a final pull of his cigarette while his eyes wander over you. Exhaling, “What’s comfortable for you?”

“I’m sorry?”

A chuckle leaves him, putting out the smoke against the fake wall. “Your form. Human, demon. What do you prefer?”

It’s an odd question but only in the sense that you’ve never been asked before. Your preference never mattered nor was taken into account. 

“I’d say the mix of the two. Just hybrid presenting but not fully between either.” A moment before, “Takes less energy.” Eyes squinting from the sun until he stands in your line of sight to offer you his shade from above. The glow of the sun highlights his presence.

His eyebrows quirk up for a moment while licking his lips. “How come you haven’t been doing so in the downtime? When with the team?”

“Didn’t feel that welcomed in our group, Captain.”

His grunt resonates inside the fake hallway where you stand, and he breaks his gaze from you. “S’pose that could be blamed on me.” The sunlight beams into your eyes suddenly as his steps ring out from the wooden stairs. Arriving where you stand a few moments later, his hand pulling out a tac knife. “Let’s see it then. Shouldn’t be wasting away while training, hm?”

Clicking your gun on safety, eyebrows cocked while taking a small step back. “And the knife is for?” Truly, this man seems angelic for one moment before the vibrating strings of his insanity bleed through.

“You’ve got a tail, if I recall correctly.” Stepping forward and giving you that forced grin you’ve learned to associate with danger. You’re tugged by the belt loop against him before he turns you by the hips. There isn’t a chance to protest before a quick rip on the back of your pants is heard.

As the shock passes, you purr at the scene and wish he would drag the knife down to cut an opening and expose your underwear. Better yet, just cut through the underwear while he’s at it. An uncharacteristic surprise is when he shoves two gloved fingers through the small hole of your pants, widening it enough to show a small portion of skin on your lower back. 

“Go on. Let me see it, love.”

Fuck him for being such a tease, he knows what he’s doing. This has to be a test, no attempt to even step away. By the time you unclip your helmet and turn your head to look up to him, your horns and eyes are strikingly apparent. A subtle movement from your lower back catches Price’s attention. Hands now full, you awkwardly set down your weapon and gear before attempting to fish your tail out.

His hands beat you to it. 

A pinching grip on the base of your tail alerts you to his intention, but the slow pull of it makes a chill run up your spine. Hands splaying out against the flimsy wall steady yourself when both of Price’s gloved hands slide over the smooth texture. The whoreish whimper that leaves you makes both of you freeze.

“Thought I’d hurt you but that doesn’t seem to be the case.” The husky melody of his words plays in your ear, adding a swirl of haze when the hand closest to the base of your tail gives a soft tug.

Your body follows the hold he has on you, back arching deliciously. Shooting a hand back to grab onto him, your lips part, shining in the light of the overhead sun. Your eyes, red irises, make his breath leave the pit of his lungs once joining gazes again. “Price, please-” 

The breathless whine isn’t lost on him; You can feel his essence of arousal already heating up where his hands hold your tail. You dare to arch your back by a fraction more and press into him.

Clearing his throat once your ass is flush with the buckle of his pants, he releases only one hand to hold your hips. “Back to your drills. Now.” Before taking his leave around the corner of the makeshift walls.

The burning desire is never satiable for a succubus, and it’s the reason you were gifted your powers. To get what you wanted. Patience is a virtue, but wrath and lust have always been more fun.

#task force 141 #cod mw2 #captain john price #tf141 #john price x reader #captain jonathan price #captain price x reader #john price #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #lust by nature #captain price mw2 #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #ghost simon riley #captain johnathan price #captain john price x reader #cross posted on ao3

[luimagines]

Can you do one with an easily flustered reader? Like finding out reader has a crush but keeps trying to play it off?

I think the dynamic was chosen for me. XD

I'll do my best.

Masterlist

Part one will include Warrior, Twilight and Wild!

Content under the cut!

Warrior

“Gooood morning, Gorgeous.” Warrior slid up next to you, putting his arm by your head as he leaned into your personal space. “What’s the plan for today, Sweetheart? Romantic walk through the forest? A boat ride for two on the lake? Dinner under the star light?”

You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from giving away into borderline hysterical giggles. He did this every day seemingly. The attention was nice... if a bit more than you could handle from time to time.

Granted, you were incredibly worse with the interaction in the beginning. You were rendered speechless and incoherent for the next three hours. At least he didn’t stop, so it gave you some measure of tolerance to his unending flattery. 

You shook you head and avoided eye contact. “We can do only one of those things.”

Warrior grins and shrugs. “Options make everything a bit more entertaining though.”

“We’re walking through a forest anyway.” You snort, trying to keep yourself from looking at him. “How is that going to be in anyway romantic?” 

Warrior scoops up your hand before you can stop him and rises it to gently place a kiss to your knuckles. “Don’t underestimate me.”

You find yourself freezing under his very intense stare. You can vaguely register that he’s smirking from your reaction but you’re too focused on the way your vision zero-ed in on the spot where his lip met your skin.

It was softer than you would have imagined.

Of course Warrior notices this. “I can make anything romantic if I wanted to. And I’m feeling good today. So why not?”

He drops your hand but doesn’t let go of it. You cough and look away again. You can feel the way your cheeks burn and don’t want to add any fuel to the flames. You cough again, squeezing his hand a bit. “And what would the others say then?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean it.” Warrior grins, pulling you away from the spot and swinging your hands together as you go. “I have it all planned out! You walk with me, Time and Wind take the point. Legend and Hyrule stay right behind them. Twilight and Wild stay with Sky and Four near the middle.”

You smile to yourself even as your voice loses its strength. “And where does that put us?”

“In the back.” Warrior says confidently. “Where no one can see us and I have all your reactions to myself.”

You squeak against your will and pull your hand out of his to cover your face. “Mean. Mean. Mean! Not fair. You’re such a jerk. No way!”

Warrior laughs openly and freely, reaching for you hand again. “You’re cute.”

“I am not.” You whine and swipe at him with your free hand.

Warrior’s enjoyment does not seem to cease and he dodges your other hand easily enough. He catches it before you can pull it back entirely. He brings both of your hands closer and kisses them both once more, smiling as he pulls away. Warrior lets his expression soften. “Please?”

Your own words get stuck in your throat and you stomp your foot quietly in frustration. Why must he be so stupidly charming at time? You can feel yourself crumbling under his gaze.

The day just started. Why he do this? Shouldn’t you be used to this by now?

You cough and nod. “...Fine.”

“Perfect!” Warrior brightens up considerably. “Let’s go have breakfast.”

He begins to led you off, still holding onto your hand but you don’t think you have the strength to even try to pull it away, let alone say anything about it. The others though? They’ll say something. You’re sure of it.

Twilight

You tried to lift something heavy off of Epona but it was giving you more trouble than it was worth. You grunted and pulled again with little to change what so ever. 

“Let me help you there, Darlin’.” Twilight slides up to you , getting close enough where you can feel his chest pressed up to your side as he reaches over and lifts the bag off of his loyal steed without so much as a break in his stride. 

He holds it out to you with a charming smile. “There you do.”

You cough and nod, taking it from him without making eye contact. “...Thank you.”

Twilight smiles wider. “You’re very welcome. Is there anything else you need? I can help with that too?”

“No.” You squeak and shake your head. You can still feel his phantom heat from his close proximity and you’re intent on making a quick get away.

“Hey.” Twilight smirks and presses the back of his hand to your forehead. “Are you ok? You look a bit red. You’re warm too.”

Twilight pressed the back of his hand to your cheek now, letting it rest on one side before moving to the other. His hands are guiding you to face him and there’s little you can do stop it.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.” You throw yourself back violently and frantically try to look at anything other than him. You want to come up with an excuse to leave but there’s little words left in your mouth.

Twilight doesn’t reach for you again thankfully, even if his easy going smile doesn’t drop. He reaches up and instead brushes his bangs away from his face in an upwards arc. You follow the movement with your eyes and Twilight knows you’re watching him.

He smirks and pats Epona on the side before he takes a step closer to you. “Can I ask you something?”

Dread drops into your stomach like lead. “...Yeah?”

“The Vet says that there’s a town not too far from here and the Champion says that we’ll needing more supplied sooner rather than later. I was thinking about doing a supply run. Do you want to come with me?” Twilight tilts his head and rests against Epona. “If we ride, then we can get there and back faster and maybe even before nightfall.”

You want to. You really, really, want to.

But you now yourself and you’re more likely to put your foot in your mouth than to impress the Hero of Twilight by any means.

“Sure.” You find yourself saying anyway, to your horror. But it’s to Twilight’s delight.

The young man grins. “Perfect! You don’t mind riding horse back, right?”

You shake your head, gripping the bag in front of you like a life line.

Twilight grins wider and doesn’t hesitate to hop onto the horse next to him. “Alright. Let’s go now!”

“Now?”

Twilight falters a little. “Unless you have something. I can wait.”

You shake your head and drop the bag next to the other’s stuff. You can do this. Maybe.

You move and stand next to the animal. “How do I-”

Twilight leans down and reaches his hand out. You take it after a moment’s deliberation before you’re effortlessly lifted and placed in front of Twilight. He reaches around you and gets close like the moment prior to take the reigns.

He grins and speaks right by the shell of your ear. “This ok?”

You can’t fight your blush any more and nod, hiding your hands behind your ear. “Yeah, this is fine!”

You ignore your voice crack.

Twilight laughs and begins to steer his horse so that he can pass the group and tell them where he’s going. “Good! We’ll be back soon. This won’t take long.”

“Yay.”

Wild

You were minding your own business, reading the book you managed to snag before you ran through the portal with wild abandon. It was one of your favorites. You never got tired of reading it. 

You were so engrossed in the pages that you nearly jumped out of your skin when something heavy landed on your thigh.

You calmly moved the book away to look at what plopped into your lap. 

Wild groaned loudly. “They’re giving me a headache. Just five minutes, I swear.”

“Um...” You could already feel yourself begin to blush. Feeling a little put off from reading anymore, you kept your finger between the pages to hold your spot as your poked Wild on the cheek. “...Champion... what are you doing?”

“Taking a nap... if I can. Otherwise, I’m just resting my eyes.” He responds easily. “Why do you ask?”

“Well that’s fine and all but... why on me?” You cough and poke his shoulder, trying to see if he’d roll off you. He doesn’t so much as move an inch.

Wild looks up and tilts his head so that he can look you in the face. He grins your way with a sort of boyish charm that makes your insides feel like butterflies. “Because you’re comfortable. And you’d let me.”

“Maybe.” You poke him harder, this time by his neck.

He makes a funny choking sound and flinches to close the spot where you press. You both freeze.

You can feel yourself slowly over coming your shyness as a mischievous streak was ignited. “..Link?” You say the name and lean over. “Are you ticklish?”

“Nope.” Wild sits up like a shoot and pokes your side for good measure. ”I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You yelp and drop your book in the process, jumping to protect the spot that he poked as well. Wild catches the movement and you can feel a bit of dread pool in your stomach. You flush and scramble to stand. “You saw nothing.”

“Perhaps.” He smirks. “But I certainly heard that.”

“Don’t you dare!” You takes a step back, watching him for the moment he jumps.

“Why?” He grins. “It’s fun!”

“For you!” 

“Of course. I get to hear you laugh.” He says casually. 

You whine and use your book to cover your face. “Don’t say that so easily! Cheater!”

“And I get to see your smile too.” Wild steps closer now that you’re no longer looking at him. “It’s very nice to see.”

“Shut- shush!” You step back on impulse, only lowering the book down by a hair breadth to look around it. You panic when you see that he’s gotten closer. “Wild! Wild, no!”

You try to dash away but he follows suit quickly, catching you by the arm before you can get too far.

You hit him with your book.

“Ow!” Wild pouts. “Meanie. Can’t I say that I think you’re pretty without having to deal with consequences?”

You hit him again. “No.”

“Shame.” Wild grins and pokes your sensitive side with his free hand. “I can still do this though.”

“Nononononononononono!!!!” You try to fight it but your giggles make you weak. Within second you’re overtaken by the Champion, who proves victorious in your impromptu tickle fight. 

Wild never did get his nap but in his book, he can live with that if he can get to spend some time with you anyway.

Part 2

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #this may not be as flirty as it should be #but so help me I don't know how to flirt

[lemmetreatya]

Reiner x fem reader smut - PURE/HONEY

I love this man so much it’s so STUPIIIIIIDDDD!! HELPF MEEEE!! IM CORRUPTED

contains: strong language, oral sex, smut, car sex, pwp

“Get in the back.”

As soon as he had unlocked the car, you heard Reiner grumble those words to you over the vehicle.

Opening the door to the back seats on the right, you clambered in. You didn’t even bother questioning what he was requesting of you — you already knew to start sliding your panties pass the fat of your ass.

The blonde male seemed to already beat you into the car. He was on all fours on top of the left back seats, already reaching his hand out for you.

As your panties pooled around one of your ankles, the both of you leaned in for a quick heated kiss.

When you pulled away, you could already tell the lust in the man’s eyes were dire.

God, you’d never get tired of the sweet slickness of his mouth.

“Rei, promise you won’t long this out. The others’ll get suspicious that we haven’t pulled out from the drive yet.” You whispered against his lips.

Go get a few beers.

That’s all your friends had requested of you both.

The small get together was under way over at Eren, Zeke and Armin’s place. But Connie, having forgotten to bring the drinks (He had ONE job!!), meant that someone needed to therefore go out and get some, considering Connie’s license was temporarily suspended (don’t ask).

Reiner had stupidly offered for the both of you to go get them, which was fine; He had driven you both here, alongside a carpooling Bertholdt, so he was more than capable of being the designated Beer Guy.

But Reiner didn’t accept the request out of good heart and thoughtful sacrifice for his Beerless peers, No. Reiner had accepted the inquiry based on the fact that he’d steal a few minutes away from the group with you because he was just too fucking needy.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, whatever. Just… Sit back.” He grumbled against your lips, already signalling for you to prop your back up against the passenger door on your side.

Following his command, you sat with your head leaning against the window. Your legs had spread wide open; one hooked over the backseats and one tangled on the car floor.

With his arms hugging around your thighs from beneath, Reiner rode your dress up your body before lowering his face between your legs and giving your glistening core an open mouthed kiss.

Instantly your lips parted and a sweet sound of relief dribbled out from it.

“Okay, yeah. I’ve missed this, fuck.”

What made this whole thing even worse was that neither of you were publicly dating. You’d been sneaking around with each other for a few months but hadn’t told your friends what was going on.

Not that you wanted to; the situationship was purely pleasure based and none of their business.

Like clockwork, your hand found its way to the perch of hair at the top of the man’s head. You believe with the amount of force and the many times you’ve done this, it would definitely result in premature balding.

Oh well! Not your guy, not your problem!

Reiner wasted no time in directly sucking at your clit, his tongue occasionally lapping up the slick that built around it.

This man was definitely on a mission.

With the hunger he devoured you with, you couldn’t help but have your hips gyrate in succession to Reiner’s actions. However, it wasn’t a problem for him — the man only anchored you down in place, his grip on your thighs growing tighter as he continued to feed on your oozing meat.

The coarse love of sex built within the pits of your stomach. You had the want in you to just spill yourself all over this man, bathe him in your fluids and mess his face; wet his beard with the succulent juice of your womanhood.

“Shiiiiit, how long you been waiting to do this to me, Reiner? How long you wanted to suck my fucking pussy, huh?” You drooled.

The moist stirring of your dewy cunt against his lewd mouth filled the sound in between your ask and his reply.

“Since I picked you up ‘n’ saw you in that dress.”

With the way his eyes languidly rolled up to meet yours, you’re sure you’d be able to convince anyone that there was no longer a need to buy the beers; He was already drunk.

“Wannad’ to eat you since then.” He mumbled against your slick.

A pulse fizzed itself straight to your core. Your inner walls desperately clenched at the mere thought that Reiner would have devoured you upon first laying his eyes on you, however denied doing so due to the presence of his best friend in the car ride and then being in a house full of your Other friends.

The thought of Reiner’s self control being the restraint of not even an hour long drove you crazy.

No way was he that addicted to you.

Momentarily, the blonde detached his mouth from your pussy, getting as much comfortable he could in such a tight position before lapping a humid strip from the bottom to the top of your cunt.

After he did that, he sighed a loud sigh of greed. Too much goodness all in a short amount of time. Doused in your pussy — unlimited, unsolicited.

You hummed sweetly down at the man, your bottom lip plump between your teeth.

“You wanted me that bad, huh? Lied to our friends. Said you’d buy beer. But you just wanted my pussy.”

You slurred your vulgar words towards the car ceiling, head thrashed backwards against the window glass. Your breath was laboured, voice higher than usual and your hips were bucking desperately into the man’s mouth.

Reiner knew exactly what those signs meant and so in response, followed through with the usual procedure.

The blonde brought one of his hands from your thighs to the entrance of your womanhood. While his tongue continued to lap at you, his index and middle finger slid between it so that it could part your lips wider and allow himself cleaner access to your clit.

Fuck! That felt good!

It wasn’t at the front of your mind the damage it was creating but you could feel your slick leak out from the bottom of your cunt, most likely creating a wet stain on the fabric of the car seat — just another way to print yourself forever into this man’s brain.

Reiner continued to suckle at your clit, almost as if he wanted to draw honey from it directly. However, he also knew that sucking your bud this late within the session would cause you to whine and roll your body in edging desire which is exactly what he wanted.

You were so close to that freeing feeling of an orgasm, your build up having stored enough points and ready to unleash the ecstatic wave, the words were on the tip of your tongue!

“Reiner, Reiner, Reiner — I’m close. Fuuuuck, I’m g’nna come, I’m g’nna come.”

The man hummed.

Whether in reply to you or enjoyment of your unraveling, you’re unsure but the vibration definitely sent you over the precipice and into that sparkling sensation of a climax.

You moaned aloud into the air, your body stilling whilst the euphoric pleasure of sex washed over you.

Reiner continued to lap you through your orgasm, the feeling of your cunt contracting and releasing in sporadic spurts on his tongue never getting old. He thinks it’s a genuine issue with how obsessed he is with you. How you willingly allow him to undo you and grant him access to witness such a celestial experience again and again.

After he hears the heavy signs of your breathing, Reiner lays your pussy one last wet kiss before raising his head to watch you.

Spent and eyes fluttered shut, your mouth stayed agape as you came down from your high.

“You okay?” Reiner grumbled, voice deep and coarse.

You weakly nodded, your veins still buzzing with endorphin albeit pumping in lower quantities than they were a few seconds ago.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You quickly dabbed at your face, neck and forehead as they were clammy with sweat. “Fuck, Reiner. You ain’t eat shit like that before.”

The man glowered in the compliment, that familiar shy but hubristic lopsided smirk swimming it’s way onto his slick and moistened lips. He however didn’t reply and only lowered his head back down, resting it against your thigh.

Automatically, your hand found itself back within the same spot on his head. Running your fingers through the bristle strands, you watched down at the man.

Never would you have thought that the actions and decisions you’ve made in your life would mean you’d end up like this: Relishing within post-orgasm glow as your long-time friend had his head laid up on your thigh, in the back of his car on the drive way of your Other long-time friend’s house.

However, you had to momentarily catch yourself from thinking but isn’t that a good thing? Because it wasn’t supposed to be a good thing or a meaningful thing or anything for that matter. It was just a thing. No feelings, no strings and definitely no How Did We Get Here? Questions.

It was simply a mutual understanding between two friends.

Removing your hand from Reiner’s hair, you started to sit yourself up properly against the car door. You hadn’t realised that your posture had slouched.

“Want me to do you now?”

Reiner started to get up concerning you had moved your position. He sat up onto his heels as a look of conflict flickered over his face.

He knew well what you were referring to because that’s how most sessions went. The beautiful art of Equivalent Exchange. But Reiner doesn’t know if he wants to abide by that this time. For once, he feels that he’s satisfied with just basking in you alone.

Shaking his head, Reiner declined.

“Nah. Just wanted to taste you. I don’t need anything in return.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel your heart slightly flutter at the proclamation. It’s not like you were falling for this man (“No! Never!” You said into the side-eying void) but you were moved at the prospect that he was okay with simply bathing in you and nothing else.

Whether that’d be the case for the rest of the night, you weren’t sure, but that was for Future You to deal with.

“Naw, Reiner. How sweet of you.” You mocked, the playful tone in your voice a quick bounce back to the natural dynamic the two of you had: Push and Pull.

“Oi!” Any crack of vulnerability that was visible before was now wiped from the man’s face as his expression screwed into one of faux disgust.

You watched as Reiner reached forward between the gap of the passenger and driver’s seat to retrieve a pack of wipes that he kept within the glove compartment.

When he pulled back into your space, he othered you a wipe before pulling one for himself and giving a verbal answer.

“Don’t get any ideas, I’m not being sweet at all. If anything, I’m being wildly selfish and I’m fine with that.” He bemused.

“How so?”

“Well, now it means you owe me a Bonk.”

“A Bonk?” You questioned. What was he on about?

Reiner began to wipe at his mouth with the wipes, shacking at the tuff of his beard before explaining.

“Yeah, a Bonk. You still owe me, I’m just not cashing it in now. I’m saving it for another time. When I want to cash in that favour? I use my Bonk.” He said matter-of-factly.

Pulling the wipe away from between your thighs, you gave Reiner a perplexed look.

“The fuck? How is that fair? Why do you get to save a Bonk for later! Why can’t I save a Bonk?!”

“I told you, I’m being selfish.” With a slyer smirk than before, Reiner shrugged before handing you another wipe. “You just gotta play the game, sweetheart.”

With a scoff and no form of comeback, you turned your head away from the man.

All the more ways to hide the smile that was chiding at your lips.

“Boy, I— Reiner, just go buy them beers!”

(“Yo, why does it smell like sex in here?”

Even whilst sloshed on five bottles of Peroni and two Budweisers, Bertholdt’s sense of smell was still working over time.

Reiner, only now getting into the driver’s seat pulled a regretful face at his friend’s observation. He was unsure how Bertholdt was still able to smell his previous Sins concerning the two of you had gone to ‘Get the Beers’ hours ago.

“It’s probably just your head playing tricks on you, Bert. Just lie down for now, okay?” You said, as you piled into the passenger’s seat.

As soon as you sat down, you gave Reiner a concerned look. Did Bertholdt catch on? Reiner could only shrug and quickly shake his head as he mouthed that he didn’t know.

Starting up the car, the blonde took a look at his rearview mirror. He was momentarily relieved that Bertholdt was complying to your instruction to lie down. If he was asleep, it was less questions for the both of you.

That was until there was a weird groan from the back.

“Why is this seat wet?” Bertholdt muttered.

The air at the front of the car seemed to run cold. Reiner stilled with his hands on the wheel. You paused just before you could click your seatbelt in.

With a few echoing sniffs, Bertholdt rapidly sat up.

“Ew, guys what the fuck?!”)

#reiner x reader smut #reiner x reader #reiner braun #reiner aot #reiner headcanons #attack on titan reiner #aot reiner #reiner x black reader #reiner x black y/n #anime #attack on titan

[effervescentdragon]

sebchal + magic au

"It's a dangerous idea," Pierre had told him when Charles, stupidly, amateurishly, got just a bit too drunk the last time they went out and found himself telling his best friend more than he intended to. "And what's even worse, it's a stupid idea."

"You're stupid," Charles had said, stupidly, and drank the rest of Pierre's Red Bull-vodka. Pierre didn't even notice, staring at Charles like a wide-eyed lemur. Or maybe a meerkat? Charles was never good at animal species. He prefered demon classifications.

"No, I'm pretty sure you're being stupid just now, calamar. Do you even know what all can go wrong?" Pierre had asked.

"Yes," Charles had replied, insulted. "I read, Pear. And I studied the ritual in detail."

Pierre huffed in what Charles was sure was derision. He reached for the drink that wasn't there. Charles played stupid (hah) as Pierre refilled both their glasses. "You could lose your soul if you do the binding wrong. Or your virginity." He paused. "Or, you know. A limb."

Charles frowned. "I'm not a virgin."

Pierre laughed that fox-like laugh of his that always grated on Charles' nerves.

"A blowjob doesn't count." Charles felt himself blush as Pierre leered at him. "No matter how good it was."

"Fuck you, Pear," he mumbled and used the momentary distraction of Pierre's laughter to change the Red Bull in his drink into Monster, just because he could. "You're so full of yourself."

Pierre shrugged. "I give good blowjobs." His face turned somber. "I just don't understand. Why do you need to do it?"

Need, Pierre had said. Not want. That may be why Charles answered truthfully.

"I need to prove how strong I am to them," he had said, much more softly than he wanted. "I need them to understand. I need them to choose me." His voice was steady, but he knew his hands were shaking.

Pierre hadn't said anything after that. What could he say, really, when he understood intimately what drove Charles to even contemplate this? What could Pierre say, when his own binding ritual had failed, and ge was discarded into a lower class, with empty promises of some future, second chance that was no more than courtesy and placating? He just added more vodka to Charles' glass, and moved so he sat closer to Charles on the couch.

Being where he was right now, Charles kind of wished Pierre had pushed, had insisted on talking some more about what Charles was going to do.

"You're very beautiful."

Well. Technically, what Charles had already done. Did. Was about to do. Stupid semantics.

"I, uh, thank you?" Charles replied, confused and scared in about the same amount, which was quite a lot.

The demon standing in the middle or the ritual square licked its lips. His lips. Whatever.

"You're welcome," he purred, and Charles felt himself blush, like an idiot. Or a virgin, he thought. The demon's smile widened. "Oh, you're going to be interesting, aren't you?"

"I am going to be binding you," Charles replied. The demon's smile didn't falter. "I need you -"

"Oh, do you?" The demon leered. Its- his, it took a male form, and it was an appealing form, to Charles' despair. Blond curls, wide smile, and blue, blue eyes which looked black when the candle light hit them right. "And what do you need me for, Charles Leclerc?"

Charles didn't flinch. He knew this level demons had telekinetic and telepathic abilities and so he anticipated the demon would know certain things about him. True, the summoning ritual wasn't quite as it was supposed to be, as it was described in the grimoire. The shadows coalescing were much thicker than Charles expected from a Level Four demon, and the feeling of thunder and heat and monsoon wasn't really what he had been expecting. There was also the small matter of that moment of absolute darkness which seemed to last less than a second and more than a century simultaneously, and the way Charles' very magic seemed to burn around him in the air ever since the demon appeared. It was probably the adjusted summoning circle. The square was Charles' own idea, based on studying interdimensional geometry and runes in his spare time. It was nothing to worry about. Really. It was nothing.

Charles inhaled deeply, sulfur and incence filling his mouth and nose. "I need you to give me your price for a low-level binding. I need you for fifty-four hours, until midnight Monday, so I can show my Instructors that I have managed the Level Four binding." The demon's eyebrows went up, but Charles couldn't decipher it- his expression, so he went on. "I will give you an Oath on my magic that after the alloted time period, I will dissolve our binding. Oh, and that I will not try to amend the parameters of our agreement at any point, unless we both agree of our own free will that the parameters should be amended."

The demon kept silent for a while after Charles finished his speech. The candles flickered over his face, and Charles couldn't catch any emotion in his eyes. They were really pretty eyes, and intense, and Charles forced himself not to follow that train of thought because, well. Telepathic demon. Not smart to give him more ammunition against Charles. Demons were, at their core, deceivers.

As if he heard Charles' last thought, the demon laughed. "That's an interesting proposal. And what would you need me to do for you in these fifty-four hours, Charles Leclerc? Which desires of yours am I to fulfill, with my Level Four powers?" he asked, and his voice was ice.

Charles blinked. "Uh." The demon kept staring at him. "I don't - nothing?" The demon's eyebrow rose. "I mean, it's - it's pretty obvious that you're a demon, and our binding would show to any magic user with enough power to discern, which my Instructors have. I wouldn't - I don't need, or want you to do magic tricks? That's not - I don't think you'd appreciate that very much?" he ended on a question, and if it wasn't absurd, he'd think that the demon looked bewildered. He shut his mouth and tried not to shuffle in his place, and was determined to wait the demon out.

The demon sat down in the middle of the circle suddenly. "Sit," he ordered, and Charles did so before he could think about it. It wasn't a - he wasn't compelled by the demon's magic. It was worse than that, but the demon spoke again before Charles could die of mortification because of his stupid kinks.

"I can see the insignia on your bracelet. You are a Cavallino?" The demon asked, and the way his tongue curled around the word Cavallino spoke of danger to Charles.

"Yes," he replied as calmly as he could. "I am in their training programme, but I am hoping this binding will show the leadership that I can become a full-fledged acolyte."

The demon hummed. His tail - and fuck, how did Charles not notice his tail, red and scaly, fuck - came up, and the demon petted it. "I see. And how did you choose me for your binding?"

"I read through the Grimoires," Charles said. "There are books in the library, books that we have to read. But I found a grimoire that wasn't on the curriculum, a hand-written one by a former, old Cavallino acolyte - Vettel, his name was," Charles said, and the demon pierced him with his gaze. His eyes were pitch black now, and Charles put his hands in his lap so as not to wring them under the demon's furious gaze. "He - he must have lived a long time ago, and must have been under the patronage of Master Schumacher, because I found some texts - but never mind." He cut himself off, because he had the tendency to ramble, and he didn't think the demon was interested.

"Anyways, he hypothesised heavily about certain things. Different ways of summoning, and binding, which did not have to be as - as final, and as..." he trailed off, wondering if he should tell the demon this. It was against the Guild's policy, but he also didn't want to lie to a proper demon. He didn't want to get murdered, or eaten. "Vettel hypothesised that the bindings did not have to be so imbalanced in power. That the demons didn't have to be - slaves, to us mages. And I," he swallowed, kewping eye contact, " I don't much care for slavery. Even if it's a demon in question."

The demon's tail twitched. "You are speaking the truth," he said, and Charles let out a short, nervous breath. "So you went through all the trouble to adapt the standard summoning ritual into this, on the off chance that this Vettel was right?" Charles nodded. "So that you wouldn't have to enslave a demon, despite us being the biggest evil out there?"

Charles scoffed. At the demon's questioning expression, he spoke, somewhat too empathetically, perhaps, but still the truth. "I've seen evil men can do. I've seen evil mages are capable off. I don't think demons are the worst evil out there. Your kind can't help but be who and what you are. For me, human evil is worse, because for us, at least there is a choice. To be bad, or to be good. And that makes all the difference, and illustrates monstrosity as very much a human condition."

The silence that fell between them wasn't opressive per se as much as it was significant. Charles thought of the Bulls, and what they did to their acolytes who didn't reach their standards. He thought of the Silver Arrows, and of the ice cold of their pragmatism. He thought of his own Cavallinos, and the atmosphere that sometimes felt fundamentally tainted, like a spell that misfired. The demon wasn't looking at Charles as he thought on world-knew-what, his eyes far away and long unseeing of the things before him. Of Charles.

"My price," the demon suddenly said, and Charles did flinch this time, lost in his own musings of hypocrisy and secrets, "is for you to listen to a story I will tell you in full." Charles said nothing. "My condition is that you listen to a story I will tell you, about betrayal, and things worse than murder, and corruption, and the vileness of humans sesuced by the promises of power, and that you listen to it from start to finish and think on it, and then tell me if you still wish to bind me to you and parade me before your Cavallino leadership." Charles' heart was beating wildly in his chest. "And after you listen to it, if you are still of the same opinion about certain things, I will let you bind me." The demon grinned. "And I shall not harm you lest you seek to harm me, and I may not even take you virginity." Charles blushed. "Accept you these terms, Charles Leclerc?"

There was a crackling of electricity and thunder in the air as Charles said "I do."

The demon nodded. "Good." He smiled. It was a smile with too many teeth. The shadows around the room coalesced, condensed, and Charles' skin broke out in goosebumps as the demon's strength suddenly surged forward. The light from the candles brightened into balls of light, and the crackling of the electricity in the air became even stronger. It did not feel malicious to Charles, though. Not at all. He settled more comfortably on the floor and tangled his fingers. "I am listening."

"You are, aren't you," demon remarked to himself, his eyes closed. "Alright."

When the demon opened his eyes, they were the bright blue Charles had only ever seen in the paintings of angels. "You made a mistake, Charles Leclerc. You thought you were summoning a low, Level Four demon, but you were not." Charles' breath caught in his throat as the demon spoke from what sounded like a hunder voices at once. There was a huge shadow behind him, and Charles realised in that moment it was a shadow of wings. Fuck, he though. What the fuck. Demons don't have wings. What the fuck, he kept thinking as the demon spread his wings and his arms and laughed loudly.

"I am a Level One demon, Charles Leclerc," he said, and Charles blanched, because - those were fallen - impossible - no no no, he thought. The demon pinned Charles to his place merely by the inhuman blue glow of those eyes, and said the words that would change Charles' life, and the fate of the world.

"My name is Sebastian Vettel, and I am going to tell you my story."

#sebchal #f1 rpf #magic au #my writing #effervescentdragonwrites #this was vaguely inspired by spn. but kore i spired by a certain genre of fics #idek how to tag this #i found this in my drafts #im too tired to write more atm but as is usual w me. there is a whole lore here xX

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Prompt: "We both kinda escaped the same party and there's only one place to effectively hide from everyone else, I'm sorry but could I please hide in this stupidly claustrophobic spot for just one minute, my heels are killing me?" AU

Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count: 3,600

Trigger warning: Partying, alcohol use, drug use.

Author's Note: Happy New Years! Are all of my fics holiday themed now? See ya on Valentine's Day, I guess. Also, I was torn between writing this for Eddie or writing this for Argyle, but I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to nail the dialogue with Argyle- I need to study his character more (aka watch vol. 4 again). I really hope that you enjoy this 100% self-indulgent, steaming pile of crap.

It was Robin's fault, truly.

Steve had originally asked her to go with him to Tina's party, but she wasn't able to get out of work. You already had plans with your mother, a few VHS tapes, and a giant bowl of popcorn, but Steve promised that he would make it up to you in some way, and having something to hold over him was enough to make you reconsider.

Still, you already felt out of place as you sat in Steve's passenger seat picking at the hem of your skirt while he fixed his hair in his rearview mirror. You weren't a huge fan of parties, never had been, especially parties where you didn't drive yourself and therefore could not leave on your own accord unless you wanted to walk a few miles in freezing temperatures.

Steve promised he'd have you home at a decent time, but it was New Year's Eve, and you knew that 'decent time' wouldn't be until at least after the ball dropped. His main objective was Kimberly Kline; a former varsity cheerleader who graduated at the top of her class and the mayor's daughter. According to your best friend, Kimberly had asked him if he was going to the party when she was checking out at the Family Video last week. Steve obviously took that as an invitation, despite not actually being invited.

You were just there as a buffer, in case things between him and Kimberly didn't work out. If they did, you were on your own.

"Your hair looks fine, Steve." You mentioned as he carded his fingers through his silky, brunette locks for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"Are you sure?" He asked. "My head doesn't look too square?"

You sighed and turned to face him. "I'm not sure how to tell you this, but your head has always been and will always be square."

His shoulders dropped as he flipped the visor up and pulled the keys from the ignition. "You know what? That's just great. Thank you, Y/N. Way to boost my confidence."

You pursed your lips to keep yourself from laughing. He rolled his eyes and began mumbling to himself as he climbed out of the burgundy vehicle and shut the door behind him. You let out a chuckle as he dramatically marched off toward Tina's house, leaving you to follow.

"Honestly, Y/N," Steve turned back to you sharply and put his hands on his hips. "I was hoping you'd, I don't know, hype me up and make me feel good about myself. I'm already nervous!"

"Clearly," you laughed as you joined him at his side. "Look, Steve," you reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder. "Kimberly Kline would be totally bonkers to not want to hook up with you. So stop worrying about how you look! If that's all she cares about then you're better off honestly."

Steve looked at you sheepishly with a small blush growing on his cheeks. "Thanks, Y/N."

Before you could say anything, an old, white van sped around the corner past the two of you; tires screeching on the asphalt, leaving a trail of exhaust fumes in its wake. You could hear Iron Maiden blaring as the driver came to a hard stop in Tina's front yard, knocking over a large plastic snowman. You rolled your eyes as Eddie Munson slid out of the driver's seat and took a long drag off of the cigarette hanging from his mouth; a bright cloud of smoke hanging in the air as he exhaled.

"What a jerk," Steve mentioned, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Who? Eddie?" You asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "He thinks he's so cool."

"You know, people used to think that about you," You teased, giving Steve's shoulder a little shove as you began walking towards the party.

It didn't take long before you were standing in Tina's kitchen with a plastic cup in your hand. Your head absentmindedly bobbing to the loud pop music playing through the stereo in the living room. The New Year's Eve special was playing on the television but you wouldn't have been able to hear it. Steve had already spotted Kimberly and had downed two drinks before building up the courage to go over and talk to her.

You were leaning up against the counter, making small talk with a girl that had been in the drama club with you for a few years; catching up, talking about work and college, the usual. Steve was on the couch with his arm around Kimberly, talking animatedly with his hands, and she was smiling. He caught eyes with you for a moment and gave you a quick head nod to let you know that things were going well.

A guy you didn't recognize was aggressively making eye contact from his place in the dining room. You looked for a quick exit, knowing that at any moment he would shove himself off of the wall and stagger over to you. Excusing yourself, you tried to make your way towards Steve but were blocked off by a keg-stand in progress. You peered through the party-goers and noticed the guy was just stepping into the kitchen, ducking your head, you didn't have many options other than out the back door or a random door to your left. Wanting to avoid what would absolutely be the most awkward encounter of your life, you slipped through the closest door hoping the stranger didn't notice.

After a few moments, you considered yourself safe and turned to see that you were standing in Tina's pantry, and there, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bag of Doritos in his hand, was Eddie Munson; mouth slightly agape, eyes wide.

"Shit," you blurted. "I didn't mean to interrupt whatever it was you were doing in here." You went to turn and leave, your hand was hovering over the doorknob, but the thought of the creep on the other side made you hesitate. "Actually, do you mind if I hang out in here with you for a minute? I'm trying to avoid some weirdo who apparently was never taught that staring is rude."

Immediately, Eddie's eyes shifted to the floor. "Uh, sure." He replied. You sighed in relief. "Unless you just want me to go out there and kick his ass."

You laughed and sat with your back against the wall opposite him. "I appreciate the offer, but kicking off the new year with an assault charge is probably not a good idea." Eddie smiled in reply and the pantry fell silent. "So what is Eddie fucking Munson doing sitting in Tina Burton's pantry?"

He looked up at you through thick, curly bangs and shrugged. "Came here to do a deal," he motioned to his little black box that you had seen a few times before. "But not really feeling the atmosphere," he drew out. "Too many jocks."

"Isn't that your van parked out front?" You asked, he nodded. "You can always leave."

"Suppose I could," he replied. "But then you'd be stuck in this pantry by yourself with a creep on the loose."

"You'd rather stay here at this lame party, despite the fact that you are completely miserable, for me?" His dark chocolate eyes connected with yours for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was shy. "You flatter me, Mr. Munson."

"What about you?" He asked, turning the tables. "You never really struck me as a party girl. I'm sure you came here with someone."

"I did, yeah, I came with Steve." You replied reaching over and grabbing a handful of Doritos from the bag Eddie was holding.

"Steve?" Eddie asked, his brows raised. "Harrington?" You nodded as you shoved chips into your mouth. "Let me guess, you were supposed to be his date but it didn't work out?"

You almost choked. "No! God, no." Eddie's eyes were probing you for an explanation but you were also hurriedly trying to swallow what was in your mouth before you began talking. "He's trying to get laid, and for fuck's sake, I hope he does. He has been such a little brat lately." Eddie laughed. "I'm his shoulder to cry on in case things don't work out for him."

"Hard to imagine that something wouldn't work out for Steve "The Hair" Harrington," Eddie replied almost critically. He flipped open his little box and pulled out a small, metal tin before producing a pre-rolled joint. Your eyes widened as he stuck it between his lips and pulled a lighter our of his pocket. "What?"

"In here?" You asked.

"You afraid we're going to get in trouble, Y/L/N?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow in your direction before lighting the end of the homemade cigarette. Eddie took a long drag and inhaled the smoke into his lungs and held it for a few moments before exhaling with a loud cough.

"Well, yeah," you replied but still took the joint from Eddie's fingers when he offered it to you. The smoke burned your chest as you inhaled, you couldn't help but cough, choking on the skunky taste before passing the joint back to him.

"You're adorable," he laughed and you immediately pouted. "Yep, that look right there. Let me just-" Eddie placed the burning joint between his lips and held his fingers up in front of his face to mimic a camera, pressing the invisible button with a click sound. "Commit that to my memory." You shook your head and giggled at his antics. "That one, too." He added, clicking his invisible camera, once more.

Sitting here, in the floor of Tina's pantry, you wondered why you hadn't hung out with him more than just the occasional drug deal. You had started buying pot from Eddie in your junior year when his band started practicing in Gareth Emerson's garage, but you had never actually hung out with him outside of that. You'd stay and watch them practice a few songs, but that was about it.

"So do you have any new year's resolutions?" You asked him after taking another hit, not wanting the conversation to die.

"Yeah, graduating," he replied as he sunk back against the wall.

"Any plans on what you're going to do after that?"

"What like college?" He asked taking one last hit before disposing of the smoldering joint in an empty can of beer, you nodded. "I don't really think I'm the college type. Besides, there's no degree for what I want to do."

"So you're going to hit the road?" You asked, "take Corroded Coffin on tour and sell out stadiums?"

"That's the dream," He replied and immediately frowned. "More like a fantasy, really."

"It's not." You reassured him. "There'll be thousands in the crowd screaming your name one day, and I'll be one of them. If I had a permanent marker I'd ask for your autograph now before you get too famous and eventually sell out."

"Never!" He laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say." You teased.

"What about you?" He asked in return. "Any new years plans?"

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head. You hadn't really given much thought to the new year and you weren't the type to make any resolutions. After all, you lived in Hawkins, Indiana, a place where people didn't really make plans or have any goals outside of settling down and moving up in whatever dead-end job they were working. Every year you'd hear the same shit; "I want to lose ten pounds", "I'm going to stop smoking", "I plan to be more active", or "I'd like to read more books". They'd start off strong, but before January was even over, they'll forget they even set a goal to begin with.

Eddie had lit another joint, waiting for your response but there wouldn't be one. A silence made itself comfortable between the two of you. You could see Eddie was about to say something else, but outside of the pantry, the countdown was beginning; the last few moments of 1985. If you were to make a resolution, now would be the time to do it.

"Ten, nine-"

"We should kiss," you mentioned with a shrug of your shoulders, deciding that your resolution would be to take risks. "Wouldn't want to ruin the tradition."

"Seven, six-"

"What?" He asked, almost choking on the smoke he inhaled from the joint wedged between his fingers. His brows merged together as he coughed.

"Four, three, two-"

"I mean we don't have to," you answered, knowing that he had heard you the first time.

"Happy New Year!"

Eddie paused for just a moment, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip before he moved his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you towards him for a firm kiss. Before you had the chance to fully reciprocate, he pulled away; his eyes searching your features for any sign that he should stop- or continue. Without any hesitation, you snaked your hands around his neck and pulled him back to you, the kiss deeper this time. His lips were hot against yours as his fingers curled into the roots of your hair. Your tongue tangled with his in an eloquent dance that felt so familiar yet brand new.

You pulled away to catch your breath and looked up into his deep brown eyes which were full-blown with lust as he grabbed for you to come closer. Every few moments you'd giggle and he'd smile as you tried to navigate the positioning of your bodies in the small pantry, but your lips still made their way back to each other. His hands pushed your jacket down your shoulders as his lips left a trail of kisses along your neck. You moved to straddle his lap, desperate to be closer to him, but in the move your head collided with the shelf above, sending a couple bags of chips into Eddie's lap instead.

He couldn't help but laugh; his full pink lips stretched into a smile as he took your face in his hands. "You okay, there?"

"Ow," you winced as you rubbed a hand over your head.

"Let me see," he cooed and you tilted your head down to him. He placed a soft kiss on your tender scalp. "All better?"

"Yeah," you sighed. "Just ruined the moment, is all."

Eddie, with your face still in his gentle but calloused hands, placed a lingering kiss on your pouted lips. "You didn't ruin anything," He said softly, brushing your hair behind your ear. "Besides, we should probably get out of here."

It was hard not to notice the dirty looks on the faces of your peers as you and Eddie emerged from the pantry; some of them even pointed as they whispered to each other.

"Do you see Steve?" You yelled at Eddie over the music. "I should probably let him know I'm leaving!"

He scoured the crowd and shook his head. "Maybe things worked out for him!"

"Maybe!" You shrugged and made your way towards the front door; weaving in and out of the sweaty, drunken bodies. Eddie's hand was in yours so as to not get separated from you as he followed behind.

The air was brisk as you stepped out onto Tina's front porch, clearing your foggy mind the second you took a deep breath. You shivered as Eddie stepped in front of you, leading you to his van.

"Your chariot awaits, madam." He said, offering to open the passenger side door for you.

"Wait, one second!" You quickly dashed over to where Eddie had knocked over Tina's decorative snowman and sat him upright. "What, you hit Frosty!" You exclaimed.

Eddie just laughed and shook his head before quickly scrambling around to the driver's side and hopping in. He shoved his keys into the ignition and turned the heat on full blast. "Don't worry, she heats up pretty fast."

As Eddie backed out of Tina's yard you noticed Steve's car was no longer where he had parked it when you first arrived. You hoped that Steve didn't leave alone, and also that he didn't leave without at least looking for you first. Given that you were hiding out in the pantry for most of the night, you gave him the benefit of the doubt that if he had known where you were, he would have given you the heads up.

The drive back to your place was mostly quiet, save for the music coming from Eddie's radio. He had the volume turned low and his window was cracked as he smoked a cigarette.

"May I?" You asked, motioning towards the cardboard box of cassette tapes that sat on the floorboard between the seats.

"Go for it," he replied as he slowed to a stop at a red light. "Find something to put on." He ejected his Iron Maiden cassette and placed it back in its plastic case, giving you free rein to choose whatever you wanted.

You rummaged through Eddie's music selection, marveling at his taste. He had everything from metal to punk, the classics, and- "Hall and Oates?" You asked, almost teasing him.

"What's wrong with Hall and Oates?" He asked, snatching the tape from your hands. "Kiss On My List? You Make My Dreams Come True? Can't help but love 'em, they're catchy."

"I completely agree," you replied, still shifting through the box. "I'm just surprised is all, would have thought that there wasn't enough guitar for you."

"It's not always about the guitar!"

You picked out Bruce Springsteen and gently pushed the tape into the cassette player. Eddie nodded in approval as he began humming along to the melody. The blue lights on the dashboard illuminated his soft features, making you realize how beautiful he really was. A small smile pulled at your lips as your eyes took in the sight of him, wondering how you never saw it before.

"You're staring," he taunted, stealing a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road.

"I'm sorry," you laughed but didn't take your eyes off of him. "I just- I never realized how beautiful you are."

"You think I'm beautiful?" He asked, placing a hand over his heart and batting his eyelashes at you.

"And silly," you giggled. "But, yes."

Eddie shook his head in response, unable to hold back his smile. "You know, I had the biggest crush on you in school."

"You did not!" You gasped.

"I totally did!" He replied. "It was bad. I would take the long way to class just so that I could walk past your locker. Man, those days after school when you'd come over to Gareth's to buy some weed and you'd hang out and listen to our band- fuck!" He was shaking his head; beautiful brunette curls bouncing on his shoulders.

"I had no idea," you replied. "You were always so quiet, I thought you didn't like me."

"You thought I- what? Didn't like you!?" He exclaimed. "Come on! How could any guy not like you? You're so fucking funny! Plus, you're like actually a good person. You're compassionate and kind and smart as Hell."

"Why tell me now?" You asked as your heart skipped beats.

"I don't know, it's New Years, why not?" He answered. "Why'd you ask me to kiss you back at Tina's?"

You shrugged, "because it's New Years, why not?" Eddie smiled at your response as he pulled up to the curb of your house. You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to face him, "I'd offer for you to come in, but I know my mom is waiting up for me."

"That's okay," he replied softly. "I really want to kiss you again."

"Yeah?" You bit your lip under his gaze.

"Mhm," he hummed.

Eddie leaned in to place his lips on yours one more time. It was slow and sweet; soft, like the glow of his headlights reflecting on the flurries of snow falling from the dark, midnight sky. You would have never thought that this night would have ended this way, but you were so thankful that it did. You weren't sure what 1986 had in store for you, but you were determined to make sure that Eddie was a part of it.

"I appreciate the ride home," you said barely above a whisper as you pulled away. "I should probably get inside, I bet-" you turned to look at your house and saw your mother's figure at the window. "Yep, she's watching."

Eddie chuckled and climbed out of the van. You smiled as he rounded the hood of the vehicle to open the passenger door for you. "Let's not keep her waiting." You slid out of his van and gave him a hug before heading up your driveway. "Maybe I'll see you are Gareth's or something?"

"Or," you turned back to him. "Maybe you'll see me at that new pizza place that just opened up? Maybe around 7:00 on Friday?"

"It's a date," he called to you as he brought his hands up to his face in the shape of a camera one last time, taking a mental photo of you before the night ended.

#fast forward you've been dating eddie for a year and you get him a polaroid for christmas so he can take real photos #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #stranger things eddie #stranger things one shot #stranger things drabble #steve harrington #joseph quinn #joe quinn #joe keery #robin buckley #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader

[postalninja]

For your micro story ask ☺️

33. saccharine

When Prudence had off-handedly mentioned that she would prefer to be given the still-beating heart of her enemies over flowers any day, she'd meant it as a joke. Not that it wasn't true. The usual trappings of romance - chocolates, love poems and the like - did seem excessively trite and saccharine to her. Anyone who truly wanted to catch her attention would need to be a bit more imaginative than that. She'd never really thought of Corazon as an especially good listener, but he proved that he'd been paying attention after a particularly frustrating incident that had had Prudence letting out a string of curses directed at the Roc they'd been fighting. Not only had it dodged three of her Eldritch Blasts, but it had caught her with one of its talons - she hadn't been badly injured, luckily, but it had torn her dress and Prudence hated sewing. Of course, she could get Dob to cast mending on it if nothing else, but it was the principle of the thing! The point was, she loathed that stupid bird, and she was only too happy to see it dead. Then again, she'd been denied the satisfaction of delivering the coup de grace herself, as Egbert had happened to land a lucky hit with his mace, neatly transforming the monster into a lizard no bigger than a dinner plate before he unceremoniously stepped on it, putting a stop to its Prudence-focused tyranny. An unsatisfying end, to say the least. And she'd been stewing about it ever since. She was snappy and irritable as they made camp, so she kept to herself, stalking off into the woods a few dozen feet away so that she could launch Eldritch Blasts to her heart's content until her ire abated. The stump she'd been targeting was entirely blackened and only slightly on fire by the time she sighed and lowered her hands. "Hey, Prudence?" she heard Corazon venture from behind her, his voice uncharacteristically tentative. She turned, her eyes still blazing with irritation. He was leaning against a tree with affected casualness, trying so hard to look cool and unbothered, but tension radiated off of him like an aura. He was inspecting his fingernails intently enough that she wondered if he was expecting them to hand over information. "Yeah?" she called in return, her mouth already curling at the delicious awkwardness she could so clearly sense despite the pirate's best efforts. He strode forward, reaching a hand into his coat pocket and pulling out a folded handkerchief. "I've got something for you," Corazon replied, a tell-tale tremble in his otherwise confident tone as he unfolded the square of fabric. A brief look of distaste flickered over his expression as he picked up the tiny lump of flesh that was smeared onto its centre, his fingertips now sticky with blood. Prudence's eyes widened as she beheld the small but gruesome gift with interest. Even crushed as it was, she could easily recognize a creature's heart. "Is this from... ?" "That Roc, yeah," he confirmed with a shrug of one shoulder. "Figured you deserved a token from it, you know, considering how annoying it was. You seemed annoyed, anyway," he rambled, his gaze flicking anywhere but at her face. "Of course it's lizard-sized and squished, which is unfortunate and probably not nearly as impressive. And I suppose it's hardly 'still-beating' either, but it's the thought that counts, right? I was thinking of casting minor illusion to make it look like it was beating, but I figure you'd know the difference anyway and it might seem disingenuous-"

He cut off as Prudence grabbed him by the collar with both hands, his eyes startled as he finally met hers. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the fight and her residual anger still boiling under her skin, combined with Corazon's anxious energy and stupidly sweet sentiment, but Prudence couldn't help herself. She yanked him toward her until she had captured his mouth in an ardent kiss. It took a moment before he seemingly recovered from his shock enough to reciprocate. The bloody handkerchief fluttered to the ground, the unfortunate lizard heart thumping down with it as Corazon wrapped his arms around Prudence. Stupid or not, she couldn't imagine a more romantic gesture.

#answering asks #writing prompts #oxventure #prudence #corazon de ballena #demonpirate #romantic gestures #myth blossom #thank you for the ask! #postal ninja fanfic #it occurred to me that the roc might transform back after it was killed #but i liked this scenario better

[winchesterride]

The first time I watched supernatural was in high school. I had this Friend 1 who was obsessed over it and used to tell me to watch it cause the main couple "d*stiel" was really good.

I watched some eps, Blood Mary scared the hell out of me and I dropped (yep, ep 5 season 1, shame on me). So I never really went back to see it until couple years ago when I saw the Eye of the Tiger video and went like: isn't that the supernatural dude? He's gorgeous! I should try watching it again since i wouldn't get scared stupidly easily anymore

So I started watching it and I liked the plot and kept going, but eventually I went: "where's that castiel she talked so much about?" I googled it and found out he would just appear in season 4. And I got "really? 3 whole seasons before romance?"

I usually watch things for the romance, but I didn't care that much cause the brothers dynamic was really good and then there were Lisa (and I actually liked she and dean)

And then I finally reached season four and I waited excitedly for the romance. And waited. And waited. And waited.

So I went to this Friend 1 like "this is it?" *disappointed* and she answered "this is it!" *excited* so I said: "I didn’t see it." And she said "it's all over there"

Honestly I didn't have a main ship while first watching the show, I shipped a lot of different characters but nothing seems endgame, something always seemed to be missing.

I finished watching the show, accepted the lonely life of the characters (cried a lot when Dean died and even more when they reunited in heaven). Until one day on Pinterest when I saw a wincest fanart and I went: 🤯

That was it. That was what should had been since the beginning. But I didn't find much content about it and that's how I ended up in Tumblr.

I always see posts of how people believe d*stiel is real based on posts and what they hear people saying and that's so true. There's a lot of misinformation about the series and what is canon and what is not.

I'm not saying wincest is canon but for me still more realistic than d*stiel

PS: please don't hate on my friend, she's super nice. She says she think shipping the boys is weird cause they're related but she's really not a h*ller. We're rewatching the series with Friend 2 (she never watched), and when we try to convert her to our ship (we just reached season four and during episodes she goes "d*stiel" and i go "wincest". Its fun) but when we watched Playthings and passed THAT scene (with all the touching and begging) and Sam just lay in bed with his butt up and camera focused on Dean's face I went like "c'mon!" and she said: "You got a point, but still weird to ship." I think she just need a bit of work.

#supernatural #supernatural ships #misinformation #canon x headcanon

[writingwell]

Could you write a fic where castle compliments Beckett’s hair in linchpin and asks her about it? I’ve always loved that the show made her hair naturally wild and curly and then she usually styles it into those beautiful soft waves but seeing her natural hair is like a glimpse into a sweet vulnerable side to her 😩 thank you love your writing!! 🩷

Try this (please note, I did not go back and watch the episode again; this is quite off the top of my head):

---

Beckett pushed her hands deeper into her pockets, her eyes fixed on the river.

On a narrow escape.

Narrow as a strangled breath breaking the surface of the water. Wise as the river itself.

Blue lights swept across her face, red again, icy blue. Damp at the back of her neck, a shudder she couldn't suppress. The dredging crew was looking for her submerged unit; Beckett watched numbly.

Wide as the river itself.

Wide. And dark. And deep.

And so damn cold.

He scared the shit out of her when the coffee was pushed into her field of vision—a split second's terror for no good reason (and then she heard I guess the good thing about having your daughter at a crime scene—). Her hands were already taking it, fingers burning painfully as heat transferred from the cup. "Thanks," she tried, her voice cracking.

He was staring at her. She found herself staring back at him. Whatever he'd been about to say, whatever she'd thought to say in thanks—the gratitude seemed all off, disproportionate to the enormity of that wide and deep and dark river.

"Cold," she said stupidly, her lips tangling on the word.

He nodded to the coffee; she took a reflexive sip and gasped, fire down her esophagus.

He made a startled move towards her; stopped. Backed off as she waved him away, choking on heat, pure flames of heat.

Good. Necessary. It had knocked the trembling out of her body, the muscles firing indiscriminately with the aftereffects of adrenaline and near-death.

Her heart jerked. He stared at her.

"What," she said, curling the coffee cup to her chest. That moment. That moment with the water rising and rising and ris—

"Your hair," he blurted out.

She stared back at him.

He looked down, back up; his face was sober soft lines and eyes that asked her questions she had no answer for. She swiped at a trickle of water at her neck and he reached out and grasped the edge of the jacket, pulled it up her shoulder, tighter.

---

By the time Sophia had kicked them out of CIA central, escorted by the lowest man on the totem pole no doubt, her spirits had bounced back while his, it seemed, had drowned.

When the hoods came off, they were outside of the precinct. She looked up as she got out of the car, borrowed clothes loose and ill-fitting, but she no longer felt like she was swimming.

Castle, hands in his pockets, looked at the sidewalk. She side-eyed him and gave a chin nod towards the precinct. "You coming?"

He didn't look at her. Cleared his throat.

"Castle," she insisted. Her toes were still not yet thawed, as if the cold of the river hadn't yet dissipated from her veins. "Don't let her get to you."

He made a desultory noise and looked up at her, finally, only to go still.

Completely, utterly still.

"What," she said, the staring thing somehow extra creepy when he was so arrested doing it. (Pun not intended, what the hell was wrong with him?)

"Your hair."

Her arms dropped to her sides. Her mouth opened. Closed again.

"It dries... curly like that?"

She felt the heat bloom from her belly up, prickling at the back of her neck, her scalp. "It... has a mind of its own," she found herself murmuring. The heat suffused her face and she rallied. "It was dry by the time they drove us into her lair and you didn't seem to notice it then."

"Her lair," he scoffed. But the awkwardness fell over him again, his body held stiffly, his hands flexing into fists, his eyes roving. "I never thought to find you like this."

"What?" she croaked. "No. We're not doing—this." She twisted on her heel and headed for the precinct, every inch of her body burning, spikes of heat even down to her once-numb toes.

"Beckett," he called after her, hurrying to catch up. "In the car, I thought I wouldn't—find you."

All the heat dropped out. The wash of chills down her spine made his face fall slack; neither looked at each other as they went inside.

Narrow an escape, wide as the river.

She bobbed to the surface in the elevator, breaking the suffocating silence. "So... you slept with her."

He sighed. "Yeah."

---

#castle fanfiction #castle #fanfiction #chezchuckles #oneshot #three words prompt #sort of

[cosmos-dot-semicolon]

As someone who loves Inscryption despite its flaws I GOTTA know: what are your thoughts on its faults? I've seen you vague post about it and I'm so curious (also, hi!)

hiiiii :3 Lovely to see you reach out after you seeing you always pop up in the tags :D

To be clear, I still like Inscryption despite its flaws. It’s *interesting* as a piece of art, and that’s way better than a game that just technically checks off all the boxes of being playable. Like, I’ve been able to write several thousand words’ worth of a video essay script on this game, covering both the good and bad. It’s that fascinating to me.

Since I don’t want to unload 40 minutes’ worth of text on you here, I’ll just say my main thesis is that the game brushes up against a ton of genuinely cool ideas, but the developer never seems to notice them because he’s too married to the way things were done in Pony Island, and what people who like Meta Games expect. And Inscryption keeps so much info in the dark that you only realise this at the end.

The genre shifts are the biggest sticking point for me. If you know the developer already (or have watched someone else play the game), you’re perfectly fine with them being there. But if you’re someone like me who played the demo and then jumped in blind, you’re going to be burned by the shift to act 2 (and to Luke), which is nothing you would expect from the wonderful aesthetic act 1 mostly relies on. Even though I *like* both act 1 and 2, I kind of have to like them for separate things (i.e. a beautifully haunting roguelike based off forest folklore vs a deckbuilder exploring the worst art-kid polycule divorce you’ve ever seen).

The culmination of this is Kaycee’s mod, which I love, but is an implicit admission that the creator didn’t actually know his own strengths. An endless mode to only one third of your game is not a common thing to add in after launch, especially if you’re not early-access.

Then in act 2, outside of its lore, the game’s theme becomes the idea of games as art. The Scrybes are both multi-faceted characters in their own right and proxies of game design philosophies.

Leshy is the visceral experience of being in another world, while his actual game is pretty janky. Grimora is pure fun (which is a great contrast against her death aesthetic). P03 is the very specific way some designers get obsessed with game mechanics above all else and produce the most mid games you’ve ever seen. Magnificus is spectacle to the point it’s stupidly hard to actually play his deck.

Throughout both takeovers, there are always items or mechanics from the other Scrybes popping up. The stand-alone campaigns are arguably better than act 2 because they’re much more focused, yet Leshy and P03 both still can’t escape the influence of their colleagues.

This is all extremely interesting characterisation and commentary on game design that all goes unsaid. And as much as I dislike Luke Carder’s plot, I’ve spoken before about how the themes his story touch on would be a fantastic fit for that meta-commentary.

All this is great, self-contained within act 2. But the way the finale (and arguably act 3’s more lore-based segments) are written afterwards implies that wasn’t intentional at all. The culmination of this game is that all the Scrybes get deleted and go out in a sudden bombastic finale like in Pony Island and then 😱 maybe this guy shouldn’t have looked for secrets… Because now he’s dead IRL…

And it’s like. Okay? Sure. That looked cool I think. But what is the point of the story then, exactly?

So much happens in so little time in the finale. The writing is basically speedrunning all 3 of the remaining Scrybes’ arcs, and then has to reveal the OLD_DATA affecting Luke, and then has to show him getting killed. And you still don’t know what’s going on.

Then you go looking online for secrets and read that actually the evil glitch thing that was mentioned maybe twice in act 2 was important, and was the entire motivation for the plot. Also everything’s technically linked to the dev’s other games.

And I just. Do not think that is interesting at all, compared to the more carefully designed, and more character and theme-driven stories.

Daniel Mullins' work is unique in how whole-heartedly he includes meta elements, and I just think it's a shame he didn't take the opportunity to explore further beyond his usual comfort zone, as you might've expected from how different Inscryption's aesthetic is to his other games.

It should also not have taken that long to get to the point if the main story was a straight-forward evil artefact plot. Which the creator has already done in a more concise game years ago.

I think Kaycee’s mod tackles a lot of Inscryption's main issues, and I’m loving its smaller plot and more consistent pacing more than whatever the fuck was going on with Luke. But objectively I think it’s a big ask to force people to go through like. Everything after act 1. So they can play a potentially better version of the game.

#'i'm not going to unload 40 minutes' worth of text on you' i said. starting to type for 40 minutes in the afternoon and another 40 at night #and this is the cut down version of my thoughts. help. #who'll read this? idk but nobody can stop me. so #this game is so fractally interesting because of its subject matter. you start writing about one thing and then you get 5 more ideas #all pinging between fandom brainrot and writing and game design and how they collide #asks #dots dots dots #not a snowman

[blackjackkent]

The Emperor's hideout had some interesting loot in it - a piece of illithid heavy armor (which none of Hector's team needs or wants), some illithid gloves that give attack bonuses on creatures you've charmed or frightened (which no one really wants either), and the Emperor's old greatsword, which is still not better than the Sussar greatsword Karlach has been running since Act 1. So all in all not an incredibly lucrative visit if you don't count the MASSIVE CHARACTER REVEAL that I figured out in the previous post. (Sorry I'm still freaking out about it.)

Also there are a bunch of githyanki in the front hall that we have to go deal with:

Of all the places for Vlaakith's people to find us, why here???

Ah well.

There were a total of six gith in the next room (a paladin and several mages and fighters), which was a very nice looking area with fancy furniture; I feel like maybe we came in here backwards by finding the entrance from the sewers.

I actually remembered to use some of Hector's rogue abilities by having him sneak attack from stealth to open the fight and taking one of the fighters down to half health to open things up, which felt pretty cool. Luckily we're already running our last remaining hill giant potion.

The exciting gimmicks for this fight were a) all of the fighters had very scary multi-attacks, b) the ch'r'ai has 1234151234 HP (actually only 146 but still) and c) the mage can summon more people onto the field every round.

However, Hector's build is stupidly powerful at this point thanks to all the advice I've received and Karlach is a fucking juggernaut simply by existing, so honestly Jaheira and Shadowheart mostly just stood by and watched while the two lovebirds completely obliterated everyone in the room other than the main boss.

Overall not too bad a fight.

Looking around, we get to read a bunch of the Emperor's old documents and snoop through its mail from the time when it was running the Knights of the Shield. None of it seemed too terribly significant on its own, but it does seem that the Emperor wasn't kidding about the level of influence the Knights had at their peak. A number of documents also seem to chronicle Gortash's rise as a black market arms trader, supplanting out the Knights and the Zhentarim (presumably after the Emperor was re-kidnapped back to the illithids and then escaped into the Prism).

Did find a rather unique self-help book in a chest, titled "On the Inevitability of Moral Decay and Its Benefits":

Some good light bedtime reading.

One thing I did notice that is probably not related to anything (although I'm starting to become wary of making that assumption about anything in this game):

I didn't know the Cowled Wizards operated outside of Amn, so either this is surprising or the Knights had a VERY long reach indeed.

Also found a note that mentioned the location of a cache of supplies hidden "behind the Counting House" so we'll have to keep an eye out for that.

The main entry door leads out into the basement of the Elfsong Tavern, which is somewhere we definitely do want to investigate, but for right now time to get back down into the sewers on the road to finding Minsc.

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle

[divine-misfortune]

Mushy May, day 6. Snow days.

Rating: Teen (very brief mention of the idea of something saucy.)

Pairing: Zephyr/Ifrit

Words:  792

Summary: The stupid things Zephyr does for their golden retriever of a boyfriend.

Zephyr had never been fond of the snow. Even as a freshly summoned ghoul, before time had worn on them and their vessel. But Ifrit loved the snow like a fish loved water. It melted around him and turned to icy water in his hands. Neither of their bodies were made for the winter weather, his burning too brightly, and theirs too raw. That never stopped Ifrit though. Nothing ever really stopped him when he wanted something. 

But Zephyr was fond of Ifrit, stupidly enamored actually. And that love, that stupidity, is what made them offer to accompany an overexcited Ifrit out into the first snowfall of the year. His tail had wagged with all the enthusiasm of a golden retriever when they did, nearly knocking Mountain’s glass off the coffee table. He was so excited he was practically buzzing as he went to find Zephyr’s coat and boots for them. 

Minutes into the adventure outside, they were already regretting it, but they wouldn’t say that out loud. Not when Ifrit’s eyes were sparkling. He always seemed to be in awe of the beauty of winter, no matter how many years he’d spent topside. 

It was mostly the cold that made Zephyr miserable that time of year. Somehow it only served to stiffen their joints further, there was a time they didn’t think that was possible but they were proven wrong. When the weather started to shift, their knee took to clicking with each step, and their muscles outright protested most quick movements. The ice didn’t help. Everything was slick and precarious, nothing too sturdy for their cane to find stability on. Ifrit always let them hold onto his arm when the walkways weren’t properly salted, and in their eyes he was the sturdiest thing in the entire abbey. 

Ifrit would spend hours out there if not for the lack of daylight, and Zephyr tried to give him as much time as they could but eventually the dull and somewhat far away pain in their hip reared its ugly head. It was sharp and angry, the muscle drawn so taut they feared too much more movement might just tear them in two. 

The fire ghoul was nothing but sweet, truly. He’d gathered their aching form in his arms and carried them all the way back to the den, and despite their insistence they could manage the rest, brought them right to their bed. 

Zephyr hissed as they settled onto the foot of the bed, perhaps sitting down too fast for their own good, but the idea of standing for another second made their stomach knot. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize we were out there so long-”

“Help me with my boots, please.” The air ghoul interrupts him, knowing full well that Ifrit will babble himself in a spiral of apologies for the rest of the night if they don’t. “I don’t think I can untie them.” 

“Oh-! Right, yeah.” 

Ifrit knelt in front of them and they bit their lip. If they didn’t feel like there was burning glass being pushed into the spaces between their bones, they might have reached out for a fistful of his dark messy hair. Pulled at it to drag him closer, he’d have gladly warmed them that way…But the pain is prevalent and insistent. Another time. 

He picked up their boots and took their coat and made a step for the door but Zephyr grabbed his sleeve before he could get far. 

“Throw them on the floor, I’ll deal with it later…Just come lay down with me. You’re the reason I’m freezing, so you get to be the reason I’m warm for the rest of the evening.” 

“That, um,” he chuckled a little and did as he was told, discarding their things onto the floor before starting to kick off his own shoes “that’s only fair I guess.” 

It didn’t take a lot of convincing, it never did. It honestly took more convincing to get him out of their bed than in. They let him settle first before slowly maneuvering themselves under the covers. Getting into bed was probably the worst part, forcing their tensed body into a resting position wasn’t exactly easy. Heat was already rolling off Ifrit in waves when they finally managed to lay down, and he took the liberty of cuddling up to them so they didn’t have to wriggle any further. 

Zephyr let out a sigh of relief when Ifrit’s arm draped over them. He rested a hand on their offending hip and laid his head on their chest. 

“You’re the sweetest space heater, I think I might just have to keep you.” They teased and Ifrit nuzzled his cheek against them, a low purr of approval rumbling out of him. 

#mushy may #void writing #writing #the band ghost #the band ghost ficlet #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost the band #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #zephyr ghoul #chair ghoul #ifrit ghoul