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agirlcandream84 · 5 months

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Back to You | Frank Castle One Shot

Summary: I just had this moment in my head of Frank being hit with the realization that he has to have you and it all happening in a burst of energy and passion. And then it... went places.

Frank Castle x Reader (you)

Word Count: 1845

Warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI. Smut, mention of blood, P in V

Frank enters the diner, his nostrils flare as he swipes a hand down his face in agitation.

"F-frank...? You ok?" you stammer perplexedly, concern furrowing your brow. You glance sideways out the window, certain Frank had spotted something sinister.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm alright sweetheart," he said, the words coming out in a huff as his body is propelled forward by rage. No, not rage. Not anger. Not agitation. Fervor? Ardor? Vehemence? Some unidentifiable intensity that was hurdling toward you.

He swipes a chair out of the way, its legs knocked from beneath it as it clatters to the floor. Your eyes flick to the spot as you gasp, your hand landing on your heart in a surprise.

"Frank what's--" you start but you're stopped by Frank's lips crashing into yours. His hand snakes behind your back and his powerful thigh wedges between your legs as you stumble back four steps, held upright by Frank, as you feel your body melt into his strength. His other hand cradles your head, your hair cascading over his scarred knuckles as his tongue plunders your mouth, his nose taking big hulking breaths as if he's been starved for air.

Your shock gives way to euphoria. You had yearned for Frank's affections since you were introduced to Frank's existence-- his bulky form stuffed in a cracking vinyl booth nearly six months ago, gruffly ordering a black coffee. It was his eyes, of course. Their molten intensity had you terrified and intrigued, like two magnetic poles inside your brain screaming at you to run for life and cling to him all at once. You had clung to him.

Your affections were unrequited, namely because you didn't express them, until you expressed them so throughly one drunken night after the diner had closed that Frank had no choice but to gently deny your sloppy advance at a kiss. He had done the gentlemanly thing and walked you home, your steps uneven and his arm woven behind you to keep you upright, even going so far as to tuck you into bed and leave a glass of water and two aspirin on your bedside table. You weren't sure which was worse, your shame the next morning or your hangover.

You were certain you felt something with Frank but after the disastrous confession, you had convinced yourself you were imagining his affection-- or misreading and conflating his kindness for something more. Maybe the way he put his hand on the small of your back and asked in hushed tones "you alright?" after a rude customer laid into you was just who he was and had nothing to do with what you meant to him. Maybe the way he stayed til closing and waited until you locked up to walk you home has just the way he was raised. Maybe the way he jumped to block you from a fight in the early morning hours at the diner had nothing to do with you at all.

Mercifully, Frank had been distant since then to spare your feelings. Your shifts had become dull and devoid. You imagined you saw him through the filmy window of the diner, peering in from across the street. A figment of your mind to make his distance more palatable. Every night you imagined him as your fingers attempted to pleasure you in the way you wished Frank would. It was for the best, at least that's what you told yourself. Despite six months of talking, you seemed to still know little about him. You didn't need to be tangled up with mysterious men.

Until three nights ago. Frank had limped into the diner after you had flicked off the "Open" sign and started running the hot water to mop. You had heard shuffling and shouted "We're closed!" over your shoulder as you scrubbed the everlasting grime off the formica.

"S'me sweetheart," he mumbled and you spun on your heel to find him hunched and bloody. All at once it had occurred to you how little you know about his private life. You had a thousand questions but the only one that mattered was "are you ok?' and the answer was yes, eventually. You had tended to his wounds and chosen not to ask what happened, trusting the explanation would come later if he wanted it to.

You asked him if he needed a place to stay and while you suspected the answer was yes, the answer answer you got was "Nah. S'alright. Won't let you get you mixed up in this," the last sentence more of a mumble to himself than a statement to you. And that was the last you saw him until the moment he knocked a chair to the floor just to get his hands on you.

His steps keep barreling forward until your back slams into the wall with the corkboard, papers flying off as Frank lifts your legs to wrap around his waist and pins you to the wall with the weight of himself. The air is squeezed from your lungs until all you're consuming is Frank.

"Frank," you huff, your hands landing either side of his gruff face. For a moment, he doesn't stop his consumption until you manage to mumble his name again, "Frank please," as your chest heaves and you feel your nipples begin to pebble.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. So sorry," he says between kisses, now trailing down your neck to the swell of your breasts. " I'm fuckin' idiot, " he mumbles to himself, his hand taking a generous handful of your breast as your head falls back against the corkboard.

"Frank," you huff out, growing more distracted by the moment, "about what? sorry about what?" you ask, redirecting his face to meet yours, eye to eye. His eyes are frantic and blown with lust, scanning your face.

"Not doing this a long time ago honey," he replies, "I'm so fucking sorry. Fuck, I want you. Every part of you," he finishes before locking you in another kiss, this one igniting you with an electricity you'd never felt before. This was a dream, you were certain of it, and so you behave as if you'll wake at any moment. Your arms wrap around Frank's neck in a vice grip and your ankles lock behind his back so Frank's hands are free to explore your body as you remain pressed to the wall.

At the first sound of your whimper Frank swiftly tears your shirt over your head, muttering "fuck" at the site of you in a bra, before pulling the straps off your shoulders and scooping your breasts out of their confines. He wastes no time latching his mouth to your hardened nipple and you nearly sob at the sensation.

You run your hands through his mess of hair and manage to whimper, "Frank, fuck me. Please Frank," the words nearly mortifying in their bald, desperate desire.

At your words Frank pauses to meet your eyes again, desire and gratitude painted on his face. "You're gonna tell me if I'm hurtin' you sweetheart," a command and a question at once. You nod, your brain screaming for him to continue.

"I need to hear it honey," he says, his hands landing on either side of your face.

You nod again, adding "Yes Frank. You won't hurt me. Please," you assure him, hungry to be full of him. At your permission, his hands land on your thighs and he guides your skirt up to sit at your waist. With your form pinned to the wall, he reaches below you to unzip his pants and free his shaft, the tip of it nudging your clothed entrance. Frank reaches between your thighs to your wet heat and tenderly guides your panties aside to allow his fingers to glide through your soaked petals.

You whimper at the sensation, feeling your nub throbbing as you bury your head in the crook of his neck.

"Look at me honey," he gently commands and you obey, lifting your head to find his eyes. "I wanna see that gorgeous face. Let me see you feel good," he coos.

You blush at his request, heat rushing to your cheeks. You feel him guide his cock to your entrance, sensing his size without even seeing it. He pushes into you slowly, the sting of him immediate. You hiss at the stretch and clamp your eyes shut.

"You tell me if I need to stop baby," he mutters quietly, his restraint evident. You shake your head no-- don't stop, not now, not ever. Keep me this way for life.

He continues, the length and girth of him applying immense pressure to your core. Without realizing, you've begun taking slow deep breaths, accommodating to the size of him.

"That's it honey. Almost there, you're takin' me so well," he grunts, assuring you. You finally feel him seat the base of his cock firmly against your entrance before he begins slow, measured thrusts into you. With every pump you're driven up the wall, your breasts bouncing gently and your hair splayed against the wall.

"Jesus fucking Christ honey," he mumbles at the sight of you and the grip of your walls. Your hands land on his broad shoulders, your nails digging into his back. You keep this pace for another minute before the coil starts to wind in your belly. The steely length of his shaft drags against the swollen pinkness of your nub with every thrust, drawing you closer to explosive bliss every second.

"F-frank I'm gonna cum," you manage to sputter, the sensation nearly unbearable.

"Fuck honey, I got you," he says tenderly, one arm looping under your ass to carry the weight of you as collapse the whole weight of your form onto him, shuddering as you're washed with a fiery bliss that renders you weak and trembling. As the aftershocks grip your body, Franks smooths his calloused hand over your hair, murmuring "Shhh, shhh, that's it sweetheart."

Frank feels your exhausted weakness and makes long slow thrusts, nearly existing your core before driving back in. Your whines marry with his grunts as he meets his own completion, his sticky pleasure coating your walls. You both pant at the effort, your foreheads pressed together while Frank's girth is still buried inside you.

He gingerly lifts you from the wall and places you on the nearest table, slowly pulling his length from you and and hissing at the site of his seed at your entrance. He fixes your panties and puts his hands in the pit of your arms to lift you to stand from the table.

His hands land on your hips and you lace your arms around his torso to settle into a quiet, comfortable embrace. He places his chin on the top of your head and talks into the quiet diner, "Sweetheart I... turning you down that day, I... " he stumbles.

"Just promise to stay," you ask, leaving the past for another time.

"I promise. I promise sweetheart," he assures you with conviction.

And despite a thousand reasons not to, you believe him.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fanfic #frank castle smut #frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #the punisher fanfiction #jon berntha

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fr-likes-chocolate · 4 months

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THERE IS PHILZA ANGST AND I FOUND A SONG, LET THERE BE A ONESHOT lol not a oneshot I’m making more

(inspired by this song) (mainly the end)

Everyone was worried for Phil, he had dark bags under his eyes and scars that were too fresh to be from purgatory. Of course, the islanders had their rumors about why Phil was a wreck, he had a run-in with the federation, or the stress of single-handedly caring for two eggs was getting to him.

Phil only let the people he was closest to know why he was a mess, that meant Fit, Etoiles, and Missa. he did not want to worry others, they had bigger problems to worry about.

As the days dragged on, Phil’s hallucinations steadily increased in size, getting to the point where Phil would fall asleep on Quesadilla Island, and wake up in Endlantis. When this happened he shakily opened his communicator and call for Fit or Etoiles.

His hallucinations weren't all bad, sometimes he was in a large forest, feeling Rose’s influence all around him, or walking among quartz pillars in the nether, or by a beach, content to watch to ocean.

However, that didn't stop Phil from isolating himself from the others, making everyone worried.

After a full month of madness, Phil finally decided that he wouldn't hide anymore. He made his way to an abandoned field, waiting until the hallucinations started. It did not take long for the world to change, the ground condensing into endstone and the sky turning dark and cold.

“Ender king!” Phil screamed, “I've come to stop this torment!” He glanced around, waiting, no, praying for some sign of a response. The very air seemed to mock him, how naive he was to try and confront the Ender king!

Foolish crow... You dare challenge me on my own turf? You didn’t even bring anyone to help you, how do you expect to get away, let alone stop me?

Void tendrils seeped from the ground, pulling at Phil’s clothing, he pulled away from the tendrils and ran, this was a horrible idea! He pulled up the chat as he ran, clumsily typing for someone to help him.

Ph1lza: I need help

FitMC: where are you?

Etoiles: what happened??

Ph1lza: I cant type coords, find me on the map. Please come quick, its gotten out of hand.

Fit immediately jumped up, he knew what ‘it’ was, he quickly located Phil on the mini-map, he was over 500 blocks away from the closest warp, Fit cursed under his breath before warping. As soon as he got there, he checked what direction he was going before running. Minutes ticked by as Fit ran, he could see flashes of what looked like Etoiles, Bad, or Foolish. It hardly mattered as they all had the same goal, getting to Phil.

They wouldn't think anything of it, but when they ran, plants and trees moved to make a clear path, almost as if nature itself wanted to help Phil.

~~~~

Phil’s legs burned as he pushed himself to his limit, he couldn't keep this up for long. He was so tired...

As Phil jumped to avoid another void spike as he dashed into an open field, he looked around for the best place to run to when suddenly he heard someone call out his name. There on the left was Fit! He dashed towards him, seeing others break the treeline. “FIT!” Phil screamed, feeling the void tendrils trying to trip or pull him.

“Phil! Grab my hand!” Fit shouted, holding his hand out. Phil lunged for Fits hand, he was so close! Just grab on and-

A void tendril grabbed Phil’s foot, the teleportation magic working immediately, Phio disappeared into a shimmer of ender particles, leaving only his hat behind.

Fit gasped, searching the area for where Phil could have gone. “Phil?!” Etoiles looked around frantically. “What on earth?! He just disappeared...” Bad muttered. Fit sighed, “I think I know what happened... Tell me, have you heard of the Ender king?”

(part 2 here)

#Spotify #qsmp #qsmp philza #philza #hardcore philza #ender king #Hardcore Rose #< implied #qsmp fitmc #phil’s lore has a choakhold on me cant you tell?#Btw for the song it's like the hardcore deities talking to phil :)

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teabreakpancakes · 1 year

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Kinktober: Day Sixteen

Sleep Tight (Baizhu x Sub GN Reader)

somnophilia, nipple play, fingerfucking!

the reader wears a nightgown for convenience!

He admires you sleeping on your shared bed, you were worn out from doing the needed paperwork for the pharmacy—a huge shipment of medicine meant more work for you :(.

He hums to himself, forcibly adverting his eyes. He began removing all his accessories, replacing his elegant clothing with comfortable pajamas that matched with your own. Placing Changsheng in the room next to your shared one, he bids his reptilian companion goodnight.

With a heavy sigh, he sits in front of his desk, reading the thin pile of documents you weren't able to finish.

A soft mumble of his name beckons his attention, prompting him to leave his desk to check up on you.

The bed dips under his weight when he sits down next to you. Snake-like eyes wander over the expanse of your skin, admiring your sleeping figure, checking to see if there were any indications of you being unwell. Upon further examination, he's stunned to find a reddish hue decorating your cheeks. He pressed a hand against your forehead, worry painting his handsome features.

"Bai~" you whined in your sleep, rubbing your legs together. The doctor's eyes widened slightly before narrowing once more. Dreaming of something naughty? he mused to himself, chuckling. The amiable smile plastered on his pale features contradicts the mischievous glint in his gold eyes.

He trails a cold hand up your leg, using his other hand to comb through your hair. "You won't mind if I choose to fulfill your fantasy now, will you?"

Baizhu slides the sleeve of your dress down your shoulder, doing the same for the other side. You shiver at the feeling of the cool air hitting your now, bare chest. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers, gently rolling the sensitive nub with precision.

"Pleasure relieves stress, taking your mind off of your worries" he utters under his breath, fixated on your soft noises. "I do wonder if Changsheng would tell me off for doing this to you despite having your consent" he mutters, shaking his head with a helpless chuckle.

The doctor trails a delicate hand down your legs, prying them apart. An experienced hand tugs your underwear down your soft legs, discarding of it before he moves to kneel between them.

"My my, already so turned on" he spoke, velvety voice dripping with sheer amusement. He circles a finger around your hole, slowly pressing against it; your velvety walls greedily take in his finger.

His eyes are murky with lust, staring down at you with a piercing gaze. Baizhu swallows the saliva building in his mouth, slowly pushing more fingers in—desiring to see your hole stretch around his long fingers.

Not even two minutes have passed and 3 of his fingers are already knuckle deep within you. The tent in his pants straining against his pajamas practically begging for his attention and yet he can't bring himself to stop staring at you, giving you every single ounce of his attention.

Soon enough, he's hovering over you, gently suckling on your nipple like an infant and pistoning his fingers into you—eager to see you climax.

He flicks his tongue against your nipples and with one last flick of his wrist, you cum with a moan. You whimper, groggily rubbing your eyes as you stare down at him.

"Bai, you ruined the sheets" you whined, trembling at the sensation of him pulling his fingers out of you before sitting up. "I'll clean up later, but for now, you can go back to sleep" he hums, licking his fingers with a smile.

You roll your eyes, pulling the hair stick keeping his hair in place. "Nuh-uh, not when you're this hard" you point out, climbing on top of him and sitting right on top of his erection.

"We just have to make sure Changsheng doesn't wake up" you whisper, grinding down onto his bulge with a mischievous smile.

#lawless.writes #lawless'.kinktober #genshin.writing #gn reader #genshin smut #genshin baizhu #baizhu x reader #baizhu x you #genshin baizhu x reader

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cinlat · 7 months

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Blood in the Breeze: Ch 17 (Choices)

Parts one and two of this series linked.

Read every chapter on FFN or Ao3.

Summary: LOTS of hard choices to make, some tangible wisdom, a little bit of fun on the firing range, and one pissed off dead emperor...

Chapter Word Count: 7,200 Chapter Rating: M Characters in Chapter: Fynta Wolfe, Aric Jorgan, Theron Shan, Zolah Holran, Lana Beniko, Shillet Jorgan, Keshal Vaak, Balic Cormac...

Author’s Note: Whole chapter under the cut. Better formatting on Ao3.

Odessen Private Quarters

Jorgan tossed the empty bottles into the bin while Cormac and Fynta hazed each other about who drank more. Tayl yawned as Elara said her farewells to Shillet. The girl promised to come stay with them soon, then hugged the only mother she'd ever known before bidding him and Fynta good night. All things considered, the night had gone perfectly. Yet, Aric felt more restless than ever.

The skirmishes on Nathema sat clearly in Jorgan's mind. Force-mad guardian and the way his blades sparked off Fynta's armor. Jorgan had taken the shot. He'd missed. If not for Fynta's beskar, that bastard would have cut her in two. Because Aric had missed.

Jorgan pulled the patch off his eye and rubbed it. Fynta had given him his sight back, but when it mattered, he hadn't been good enough. The world still looked like a white haze when Jorgan closed his good eye. Tech might have been able to get Fynta back on her feet, but it couldn't make him a sniper again.

Sighing, Jorgan swept crumbs from the counter into the tash. He'd find some other way to be useful, even if it meant hanging up his scopes. The pain of that thought stole his breath.

Strong arms snaked around Jorgan's waist from behind, and the familiar weight of Fynta's head resting against his back brought a sense of peace. For her, he'd give it all up. Maybe they should. Turning, Jorgan wrapped his wife in a hug. "We should retire."

Fynta chuckled and let Jorgan pull her closer. "You keep saying that."

Jorgan tightened his hold until Fynta looked him in the eye. "I'm serious. What if we just…stopped."

The smile that a pleasant evening had put on Fynta's face slipped. "Are you serious?" Jorgan held her gaze, and familiar frustration replaced it. She pushed away and flailed her hands. "I can't just stop, Aric. I have to get him out." The last line was delivered with a sharp slap to her forehead.

"Why?" Aric crossed the room and gripped Fynta's shoulders. Every time his panic felt under control, something sparked an attack that made him feel like it was all slipping through his fingers. It didn't matter that it wouldn't work, Jorgan argued. "What power does he have if you keep him bottled up? Some bad dreams and whiplash when he stops time? We can handle that."

Fynta tried to turn away, but Jorgan held her fast. "Damn it, woman." Every fear from the last six years crashed over Jorgan all at once. His fingers tightened, desperate to hold onto a past that he saw fading with each day. They were growing apart, him settling into life as a husband and father first, her always the reckless soldier.

Unbidden, anger replaced his fear and Jorgan snarled. "What more do you have to lose to see that this war will never end. Your other leg? The rest of my sight?" Fynta glared at him, but Jorgan couldn't stop the torrent of accusations even though he knew they weren't her fault. "For fuck's sake, Cormac's still walking with a limp. Havoc squad is gone. Vik is dead. When will it be enough?"

Jorgan regretted those last words even as they left his lips. Fynta's eyes widened, and for the first time he saw true, unadulterated emotion on her face. He'd crashed through her shields while she was vulnerable and left her exposed. That had never been his intention.

Slowly, Jorgan lifted his hands. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. This was the second time in as many days that he'd fucked up what could have been a civil discussion. "That didn't come out the way I meant."

Watching Fynta's mask slide back into place left Jorgan cold. "I know." Her whispered words hurt more than any slap could have.

Jorgan took one of his wife's hands and studied it against his. It was smaller, the fingers more delicate despite the years of calluses and scars. Fynta projected herself as a giant, and sometimes even he forgot that she was only human. Without looking up, Jorgan blew out a breath. "Will you at least hear me out?" Now that the heat of the moment had faded, Jorgan felt like shit. "Please."

"Of course." Jorgan winced at the distance in Fynta's voice, but it was no less than he deserved.

"I need to show you something." Jorgan pulled Fynta to their room. She sat on the end of the bed while he dug out the ruck sack that he had neglected to unpack earlier. He'd warred with himself all night about when to bring up the black box from Nathema. Now seemed as good a time as any.

Sighing, Jorgan turned. "I found this in the vault."

It happened too fast for Jorgan to react. Fynta had been sitting on the bed, then he was tripping over the desk chair, landing on his ass with her on top of him. The face hovering above Aric didn't belong to his wife. It twisted in rage, fingers clawing for his throat.

"Fynta." The knee she drove into Jorgan's gut drove a grunt out of him. He growled and squeezed her wrists so tight that he felt the bones grinding under his fingers. "Stop."

With a shout, Fynta threw herself backwards. The nails that had clawed for his throat were now tangled in her hair. She cried out, more of a belligerent curse than tortured scream. Jorgan scrambled to her and wrapped himself around her. He muttered nonsense, holding her stiff body until it began to relax. By the time Shillet appeared at the top of the stairs, Fynta was sweaty and panting.

"It's alright," Jorgan assured the girl, though he didn't loosen his hold. He couldn't imagine what they must look like, sitting on the floor with Fynta curled into his body. "Nightmare."

"You're sure?" Shillet didn't sound convinced, but she wanted to be. Jorgan nodded, and the girl half turned. "I'll go get her some water."

Fynta shivered, then lifted her head. "Fierfek." Jorgan let out a relieved breath, that word becoming one of relief instead of the curse it was meant to be. It meant his wife was back.

At the sound of returning footsteps, Fynta pushed away from Jorgan. She managed a weak smile at Shillet. "Thanks, Shil'ika. Sorry to wake you."

The girl wore her favorite pajamas, consisting of an old SpecForce shirt that Jorgan had given her years prior and a pair of shorts that she'd proudly lifted from under the quartermaster's nose. She'd been supposed to return those. "You good?" Shillet asked, keeping her distance with thin arms wrapped around her middle.

Fynta drank deep, then let out a shuddery breath. "I'm good. Thanks."

Though Shillet didn't look convinced, she turned and went back to her room. Jorgan waited until she was gone to open his mouth, but Fynta beat him to it. "What the hell?" She pressed the heel of her hand to her eye as she gestured at the box he'd dropped. "Why did you bring him with us?"

"He gave me an idea." The ghost living in Jorgan's box claimed to be Valkorion's father. Trapped for an eternity in a lonely vault by his petty son.

Fynta winced. "The old shabuir doesn't like that."

"Good." Jorgan took Fynta's face into his hands. They'd need to discuss what had just happened and why she had reacted so violently, but first— "Ever wonder why he didn't want you in that vault?"

Eyes widening, Fynta's lips parted. "You want to trap him." She hissed and squeezed her eyes shut, nails digging into Jorgan's forearms. No doubt that old Sith was raging inside her head.

Jorgan brushed loose strands of hair from Fynta's face. "It won't be easy." Hell, he didn't even know if it would be possible. What Jorgan did know was that their current life would lead Fynta to the grave. That wasn't something he'd survive a second time.

"We'll need help," Fynta rasped. Her spine straightened, life entering her eyes once more. "And a galaxy's worth of luck."

War Room Emergency Council Meeting 02:14 Hours

"You're mad." Lana waved a hand at Fynta while speaking to Zolah. "Tell the woman she's gone absolutely insane."

The Chiss shrugged narrow shoulders. "Since when has she ever listened to me?"

Arguments erupted, all the while Fynta watched the hope drain from Aric's eyes. She couldn't say that she disagreed with Lana's assessment. This was one of those grasping at straws plans. The sort that only the truly desperate made up. Fynta hadn't realized that they'd reached that point until Valkorion's rage over the holocron took over.

Fynta knew what, more specifically, who was in that box. She had ordered it to be left behind, to let the old bastard who sired the dead bastard in her head rot for all of eternity. Apparently, her husband had other plans.

A shiver traveled up Fynta's spine at the memory. It hazed, becoming more cloudy as the moments passed, but the rage lingered. Valkorion had roared in her mind, awakening some deep part of her that needed to kill. That old blood lust from childhood that Fynta had buried so long ago. Valkorion hadn't so much taken control of her body, but he'd unleashed the beast within, and she'd gone after the nearest target. That couldn't be allowed to happen again.

"We could use the same technique on Fynta that was used on me," Zolah suggested. Fynta's attention snapped back to the conversation. Zolah rarely spoke about her conditioning, only that it had been unpleasant, but she wouldn't hesitate to use that knowledge to better their position in the war effort.

Vector shook his head, his jaw taut with what Fynta assumed was disapproval. "We will not be a part of such tactics again." Zolah's eyes rolled towards the ceiling, evidence of a years-long argument between the couple. Vector continued without acknowledging his wife's chagrin. "Furthermore, that was an absolute loss of autonomy. Fynta would become a powerful weapon in the wrong hands."

Voices clambered for attention, and Fynta lost interest again. A yawn built in the back of her throat, and she clamped her teeth together to keep it caged. Finally, Notiac interjected with a calm that silenced the room. "I would like to speak with Felix about this."

Only the uncomfortable shuffle of feet answered. Felix Iresso had been a prisoner of war more than a decade ago, the only surviving member of his squad. Only later did the Republic learn that he'd been implanted with experimental holocron tech. No one knew how it worked or what knowledge lay dormant in his mind. Not even the Imperials. And, not for lack of trying. By the time he joined the Alliance, Felix had as many or more scars than Fynta.

"Is that a good idea?" Theron asked. He cleared his throat, and Fynta noted the intentional way he didn't look at their Imperial allies, specifically his girlfriend, the former Cipher Nine. "We promised that he wouldn't be prodded here."

Somehow, Notiac projected peace. Her lips tipped up, a matriarch indulging a child's concern. "No prodding. I simply wish to hear his thoughts on the matter. Fynta, Jorgan, I believe you should accompany me."

"Do you see a way for this plan to work," Lana hedged, eyes narrowed at her Jedi lover. Fynta didn't bother pointing out that Notiac didn't have eyes, though her fatigued thoughts snagged on that bit and refused to let it go.

As Fynta looked around the room, she realized how odd they were. Discounting her, a born Mandalorian, marrying a Cathar. That left the two pairs of Sith/Jedi couples, and a handful of intelligence agents from opposing sides settling into a foursome of domestic bliss. Technically, Theron had surrounded himself with Imperials, but he was stubborn enough to keep whatever loose morals guided him. What had started as a paltry group of radicals had merged into a single force, with no room for Imps and Pubs. They were simply the Alliance now.

Notiac dipped her head. "Possibly. I understand the idea behind Major Jorgan's proposal. Vitiate's father has been trapped for eons, unable to do harm. They want to do the same with Valkorion, trap him in Fynta's mind where he can no longer sway the growth of our galaxy. If done correctly, when she dies, he will simply cease to exist."

Fynta noted that the emperor in question had been silent since his outburst in their quarters. She didn't know what to make of it, but assumed there would be dreams and visits in the coming days to talk her out of this plan.

"I would also like to include Kaeto and Kozen. His skillset could prove useful," Notiac continued. Then, she looked at Fynta. "On second thought, I believe perhaps you should not be there. Major Jorgan can relay any pertinent instructions to you, and I have little doubt that he will base every decision on your wellbeing."

"Sure." Fynta didn't doubt it either, but she made a mental note to remind Aric that they were doing this for the sake of the galaxy too. That there would always be risk.

Zolah nodded, then added her concerns. "Say that we cage the mad emperor. What then? He will always be privy to our plans, even if he's rendered impoten—"

"I retire." Fynta saw Aric straighten, and Zolah let her sentence go unfinished. "We lock him in, then throw away the key. Take me off the board. Without access to fancy weapons and galactic armies, I'm just a Force blind human with a short temper and good aim. He can't do too much with that. Aric and I leave the Alliance and find somewhere remote to live out the rest of our lives." Now that she'd said it out loud, it didn't seem as terrible a plan.

"And what of the Alliance?" Zolah asked, her tone more clipped that Fynta expected. The Chiss had never sung Fynta's praises; she assumed Zolah would be pleased to have her out of the way.

Fynta gestured at the gathering. "It's yours. I was a figurehead, a way to draw people in. You've outgrown me." It was true, she realized. The Alliance was bigger than Fynta Wolfe, in truth it always had been.

Lana sighed and rubbed her temples. "That is—a lot to process." She dropped her arms and addressed the room. "It's late, and we all need rest. Before making any decisions, we must figure out if this plan is feasible. Once that question is answered, we can deal with what comes after. All in favor of dismissal?"

Three hands raised at once, Fynta's being among them. Aric and Vector seconding. It was no surprise that Theron, Quinn, and Zolah wanted more time to argue. "Motion carried." Fynta clapped her hands, then rubbed them together. "Good night, everyone. I'll see you at lunch."

Fynta angled for the door, speeding up when Aric joined her. They turned the corner before he leaned close to her ear. "Thank you."

Somehow, Fynta found a weak smile in her exhaustion, even though she felt hollow. Retirement had never been a concern for Fynta. She'd never expected to live long enough to see it. Now that it loomed on the horizon, Fynta didn't know what to think.

Odessen Officer's Quarters 10:00 Hours

Even as large as the Odessen was, it was hard to find privacy. Jorgan was used to the constant press of bodies and movement after years in the military. Still, there were moments when he felt the invasion more keenly. Jorgan hadn't meant to eavesdrop on Fynta's conversation, but Keshal's voice snagged his attention when he stepped into their quarters after a training session with Bey'wan.

"I hear that you've been questioning the Resol'nare." The woman hefted her daughter, who'd reached the age of non stop wiggling. She sighed and shifted Jodi to the other hip. "Care to hash it out?"

Jorgan pressed himself to the wall and ignored the guilt that gnawed at his gut. He knew that Fynta had been struggling with her identity lately. So many things had changed for all of them, but time had been compressed for Fynta, and she felt the ripples of his more keenly. It was part of why Jorgan had pushed for retirement. They needed to separate themselves from the constant battle that had become their lives.

"What makes you think that?" Fynta's tone sounded guarded. Then, she signed. "Verin's got a big mouth."

"Only when it comes to those he loves." Keshal blew air through her lips, and baby Jobi giggled.

"I'm not questioning the Resol'nare," Fynta admitted after a moment of silence. Jorgan's brows lifted. He'd never seen anyone bully Fynta into sharing her feelings as fast as Keshal did. Then again, few people said no to the matronly Mandalorian. "Just my place in it."

"Explain what—shab, let go you greedy little strill." Jorgan heard a scuffle and fought the urge to look around the corner. He assumed it involved one of Keshal's many braids and Jodi's tiny fingers. With a huff, Keshal continued. "You've got Cinlat's armor. You speak the language and put clan above all else, and—"

Fynta growled, and Jorgan heard the heavy clatter of her metal foot as she paced. "And no colors for that armor. A child that I can't raise in our culture because her father is Cathar, a Mand'alor that I'll never answer the call of…" She trailed off, footsteps falling quiet. "I'm dar'manda now." The horror in Fynta's voice twisted Aric's stomach. He knew what the term meant, but had never expected to hear it from his wife's lips.

Keshal hissed. "Hold your tongue, girl." Jodi's cooing paused while the girl puzzled out her mother's shift in temperament. "You take these things too literally. Colors will come. The Mand'alor is your alley, who you will aid if she calls. And as for Aric, well, he married a Mandalorian. That's on him."

Fynta didn't answer, but Aric heard the mattress squeak as she settled on it. Keshal's words echoed through his mind. He had chosen Fynta, knowing how integral her culture was to her. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to let her instill some of the better aspects of Mandalorian culture in their daughter. Thirteen wasn't an adult, though, Jorgan wouldn't budge on that.

"When my husband died," Keshal continued, her voice softer than before. "I felt lost. Do you remember that feeling? When you learned that you were married?"

Fynta must have nodded because Keshal only paused briefly. "That feeling of spiraling out of control. Of the universe plotting a course that you can barely hang onto. I felt that. I had a young son, my clan had scattered, and there was no way out."

"What did you do?" Fynta asked. Jodi squealed, and Keshal swore again. Fynta chuckled in reply. It reminded Jorgan of the way Cormac used to laugh when Shillet flung her food everywhere. Stars, Aric missed those days. "Assuming there's a moral to this story," Fynta continued, but there was a note of laughter in the biting words.

"I shaved my head," Keshal growled. "Something I'm considering doing again before this child rips my hair out by the root."

There was a scuffle, then Keshal sighed. "It was a small change, but something I could control. I felt empowered, and that stupid haircut breathed enough life into my sorry shebs that we survived."

"Not sure Aric would approve of me shaving my head, but I get the point." Fynta chuckled again. "Thanks."

"Now, about your brother." Keshal launched into a tirade about how long Verin had been gone and the trouble he could get into. Aric excused himself, giving Fynta the privacy that he should have from the beginning. He needed to find a way to approach the subject of Shillet and apologize for being an ass about it. If he wanted Fynta to be a part of his daughter's life, then he needed to give her that freedom.

Two days later, Jorgan poked the fire he'd built at their mountainside retreat and sighed. Fynta had run late in meetings and commed to say that she would meet him at their campsite. It had been his idea, a way to get Fynta alone so that they could work out some of the tension building between them.

The weather was forecast to be warm but comfortable. Jorgan had planned a mountain climb and maybe a late-night swim in the spring. That was hours ago.

Fynta arrived well after sunset, making enough noise to announce her presence. Jorgan poked the fire again, letting the knot that had squeezed his chest burn off. He'd begun to wonder if she wouldn't come at all. "Thought you'd forgotten."

"Never." Fynta's tone perked Jorgan's ears. He turned with dread to see what fresh hell the War Council meetings had heaped onto them this time. Jorgan paused half standing when Fynta stepped into the light.

Jorgan didn't remember crossing the campsite. Fynta kept her eyes low in an uncharacteristic scowl. Aric reached for a dark strand of hair that had worked its way free of its binding, then paused. "This is…different."

"I needed a change." Fynta tugged at a lock of hair, then squared her shoulders and looked Jorgan in the eye. "I needed to take control of something."

The defiance in Fynta's eyes barely hid the fear behind them. Jorgan remembered her conversation with Keshal, how one small detail could mean the difference between confidence, and the breakdown that Fynta had been creeping towards for weeks. At least she hadn't shaved it.

Taking Fynta's hand, Aric pulled her into the firelight where he could see her better. Fynta didn't fight or speak as he tugged the tie free so that he could run his fingers through the now black strands. He'd only known Fynta as the feisty blonde, with hair caught between pale highlights and brown undertones with no direction as to where it would end up.

The black complimented her skin, bringing out the bronze hues, and making her eyes blaze brighter. Jorgan had always known his wife was beautiful, and had spent many a grumpy meeting glaring at the men who threw themselves at her. The new color amplified that, contrasting where the blonde had blended.

Jorgan smiled and tucked the strand behind Fynta's ear. "It suits you."

Odessen Training Room

"You sure about this, boss?" Cormac blocked two high strikes and a dirty kick. His hips almost had full range of motion, and his left knee didn't give out anymore. Which was good since Fynta wasn't holding back.

"Of course not." Fynta ducked beneath Cormac's jab, then stabbed two fingers into his ribs. He grunted, and she danced away. "But, Aric has a point."

Rubbing his abused torso, Cormac put some distance between him and the agile not-blonde. He liked the new hair color and thought it brought out the light in her eyes. He hated seeing how dull they had become lately. "That means you'll be stuck with him for the rest of your life. Is that what you want?" If Cormac had his way, they'd fight to the throne room of Zakuul and find a way to be rid of the old emperor once and for all.

Fynta blew out a breath, and Cormac used that opportunity to box her ears. He managed to get one before she stomped his foot. With a curse, Cormed limped back to his side of the mat. Fynta waved at the ceiling, and damn it, Cormac looked up even though he knew she was being rhetorical. "I don't know. You weren't there. You didn't see him."

"Pretty sure I was," Cormac responded, dragging his gaze down from the nothing above them. Fynta's features clouded, and he shrugged. The poor woman had gotten a healthy dose of reality from a lot of people lately, and it looked like it was his turn.

Cormac started unwrapping his gloves and jerked his head towards the bench where their bags were stored. He flopped onto the metal seat, pleased that it didn't hurt. Fynta joined him, focusing too hard on her gear. She sighed. "Tell me."

They'd never spoken about the time when Fynta was away, not at length. He'd been so damn grateful when her memory returned that rehashing those emotions didn't seem worth it. But, Cormac was good at reading people, and right now it seemed that the bosses were out of sync. That was bad for everyone.

Leaning back, Cormac took a deep breath. "It was hell." Fynta winced, and he patted her leg. He didn't want to hurt her or betray Jorgan's worst moments, but she needed to know in order to make the best decision for everyone. "He stopped eating, dropped maybe ten kilo. He's never been a jolly bloke but all the life was gone from him. Jorgan woke up, did his duty, then went to bed. Shillet was the only thing keeping him going after they declared you dead."

"Yeah." Fynta breathed the word and leaned against the walll. Her shoulder pressed against Cormac's, but she still didn't look at him. "I've never seen him like this."

"He's scared." Cormac knew the feeling. It was worse with Elara and Tayl on Odessen than it had ever been while they were apart. "I don't think he'd survive losing you again." Cormac stopped short of voicing his opinions on how that end would come, only that he had doubted the Cathar would outlive his mate a second time.

They sat in silence for a moment, then Fynta dropped her face into her hands. "I need to figure him out again." Her voice was muffled, but Cormac understood. "We are so different now. I don't know how to get us back on the same page."

Plastering on a grin, Cormac nudged his best friend's shoulder until she looked at him. "Go back to the basics. Find something that you can connect with and build from there." He wiggled his eyebrows for added effect.

Fynta chuckled and shoved Cormac away. Then, she straightened. "Actually, that gives me an idea." She reached beneath the bench and snatched her gear. Fynta took two steps, then came back and planted a kiss on the top of Cormac's bald head. "You're a genius. Give Elara and Tayl my love."

Cormac lifted a hand to wave his friend off, then set about gathering the rest of his gear. Maybe he should take his own advice and treat Elara to a nice night at the cantina. Shillet probably owed him a favor, and she wouldn't turn down time with her little cousin anyway. By the time Cormac stood, he had an entire evening of dancing and relaxation planned. Now, all he had to do was pry his wife away from the medical bay long enough to enjoy it.

Odessen Alliance Base Indoor Rifle Range 0023 Hours

Jorgan followed Fynta into the rifle range and flipped on the external light to warn others that it was occupied. It was late, after midnight, and he felt the weight of the day wearing on him. They'd enjoyed a day in the mountains, but had been recalled early to deal with a new development in Vaylin's plans. Since then, Jorgan had barely seen his wife.

Stifling a yawn, Jorgan set his kit down and flipped through the target options. Fynta had refused to leave until Shillet was asleep, which the girl seemed to recognize and found every reason to stay awake. That was after a run with Iresso, a fresh batch of recruit testing, and general fretting over things he couldn't change. Jorgan had dozed once or twice on the couch while the girls had their battle of wills.

"What are you up to?" Jorgan didn't want to be on the firing range, but could tell Fynta had planned a special evening for them. He just hoped they could get through it without another argument.

A hand settled over Jorgan's, jerking him out of his glum thoughts. Fynta nodded to the far lane. "Come on, I've already got it set up."

"Been planning this?" Jorgan aimed for flirtatiousness and was rewarded with Fynta's signature grin. Her gaze traced along the blacks he wore, stirring a twinge of excitement in his gut. A quick glance towards the door revealed that she'd unplugged the security camera. Her grin widened when his lifted brows found her again.

Instead of the blankets he'd hoped to find behind the dividing wall, Jorgan's sniper rifle perched on the flat countertop and a target blinked at the hundred yard mark. He shifted a wary glare towards his wife. "I could probably hit that without the fancy new eye patch."

"Gotta start somewhere," Fynta answered with a wave for Aric to step up. "We need to calibrate it better so that there are fewer unknowns in the field." She didn't say it, but Jorgan knew that she'd seen his mistake. He was a liability now.

Sighing, Jorgan pressed his shoulder into the rifle butt and propped his elbows on the table. The patchwork of lines flickered to life the moment his eyepiece touched the scope. Shapes formed, creating the other half of what his good eye saw in a precise, green grid. The target appeared last, though the entire process took less than fifteen seconds. Even though he didn't need it for such a short distance, Aric ran through the routine of relaxing his muscles and counting heart beats. He squeezed the trigger on an exhale and the target flashed a sequence of colors to mark a bullseye.

Straightening, Jorgan smirked at his wife. "Satisfied?"

Fynta bent forward and unlaced her right boot. "Eventually." Jorgan watched the woman gracelessly relieve herself of the shoe, tipping so far to the side that he reached out to steady her on instinct. Fynta batted his hand away. "No touching."

Jorgan withdrew and gestured at the firing lane. "What's this all about?"

Fynta kicked the offending boot to the side, then nodded towards the target. It had moved out to one hundred and fifty yards. Jorgan attempted one of her brow raises in response. "For every hit," she continued, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms in a way that lifted her breasts for his appreciation. "I'll drop an article of clothing."

"Now the security camera makes sense," Jorgan replied, hoping that his voice didn't give away the speed of his racing heart. Fynta didn't respond, which set his nerves on edge.

Carefully, Jorgan set his rifle on the table and folded his arms to match Fynta's stance. "What happens if I miss?"

Fynta's shoulders lifted. "Nothing, but I'll pull the target in closer." Pushing off the wall, she slinked closer, hips rolling and eyes dancing with challenge. "You either get me naked, or prove that you can't hack it as a sniper anymore." Her voice dropped an octave, and she stopped short of touching him. "The choice is yours, Major Jorgan."

"Damn you, woman." Aric spun around and snatched his rifle from the stand. Echoes of a similar conversation a lifetime ago rolled through his thoughts. A time when Fynta entertained the prospect of giving up the life she loved instead of trusting in technology. Fynta was making her point in the same way he had after losing her leg. Accept the hard truth that his fighting style had to change, or retire. There was no room for half measures on the battlefield.

This time, Fynta rested her hand on Jorgan's arm, but he couldn't make himself look at her. "There is no one I would rather have at my back. We do this together, or what's the point?"

Swallowing his pride, Jorgan nodded and sighted on the next target. Fynta had agreed not to bench him again. Now, he needed to prove that he could still be counted on. When Jorgan executed another perfect shot, Fynta removed her sock, then her jacket, leaving her in just the casual blacks she wore around the base. When the target hit three hundred yards, Jorgan felt the warm press of breasts against his back. "Don't miss," Fynta whispered against the shell of his ear. A shiver ran the length of his spine, but Aric pushed it down.

The kaleidoscope of color announced another perfect shot, and Jorgan looked over his shoulder in time to see Fynta pull her belt free. He let his eyes trail over her before finding her face. "You're running out of clothing." Glancing back at the target, Jorgan estimated how far he could make it out before she was out of bargaining chips. "You've only got until five hundred yards before I win."

Fynta shook her head. "Don't worry about me." Something in her tone made Aric hesitate. He stared at his wife, trying to peer past the smug exterior to work out her plan. Eventually, he gave up and found the target again.

Three-fifty wasn't a difficult shot, but he'd never taken it with the eye piece. An uneasiness settled in Jorgan's stomach, and he flexed his hands to work out the stiffness. Insecurities that he hadn't felt since his rookie days creeped into the back of his mind until warmth slid around his ribs.

Jorgan looked down to find Fynta's hands splayed across his stomach. "What are you doing?"

"Distracting you." Fynta nipped his ear, making Jorgan start. He heard her laughter when she spoke again. "Is it working?"

"No." Jorgan didn't believe his gruff answer any more than Fynta would, but her touch gave him something to focus on more than his fear. Something to conquer.

The rifle kicked, and Jorgan let out a relieved breath when the target signaled a hit. Fynta's hands unwound from his body, but Aric felt movement as his back. When the target positioned itself at four hundred yards, he leaned forward to let the instruments read the field.

Tan skin slid into Jorgan's peripheral, a naked leg that rubbed suggestively alongside his. Aric cleared his throat and squinted down the line. His best shot was more than twice this, but the range only went to one thousand yards. He could do this, and prove to himself that his career hadn't ended.

Fynta's hands returned to their positions on Aric's stomach, the warmth of her exposed skin seeping through his pant leg made for a better distraction than enemy fire. He huffed a breath and focused on his heart beat, listening to a rhythm that was faster than he'd have liked. Another shot sparked cheerful colors from the target.

Straightening, Aric turned to his wife. "Fynta, this isn't going to—" His words dried on his tongue. After so many years together, the sight of her wiggling out of a shirt still brought him up short. He was mesmerized by the seductive way her hips twisted while she worked the fabric over her head and the flex of abdominals when the shirt finally cleared.

Fynta dropped the cloth on top of her pants and boot, then stretched. "Sorry, riduur, you were saying?"

Jorgan growled low in his throat, a primal sound that he'd hidden from other women. Fynta loved it, often coaxing more from him. She stepped back and held up one finger when Aric started towards her. "Remember? No touching."

With narrowed eyes, Jorgan returned to his perch and leaned forward to peer down his scope. Before he could find the target, Fynta's body pressed against his back, her hands toying with the hem of his shirt. Aric's body was more than aware of the change in her scent and how little separated their skin.

Target acquired, Jorgan's finger tightened on the trigger until the drawstring in his pants loosened. "That's. Cheating." He bit the words out through gritted teeth while Fynta wound her fingers in the flimsy ties.

Fynta's hand slid into the loosened waistband of his pants and offered a tantalizing massage through his underwear. "I never specified my rules," Fynta husked, fingers squeezing and flexing around his clothed shaft. The combination of heat and coarse material made for a dizzying sensation. "Think you can make the shot under—" her fist tightened, stopping short of pain. "Duress?"

Air wheezed between Jorgan's lips. Fynta's heady scent filled his nostrils, clouding out everything except removing that final barrier between his erection and her heat. Teeth bared, Aric met those deep, blue eyes over his shoulder. "Watch me."

The target flashed a hit, and Fynta rewarded Aric with several, quick strokes. He yelped in surprise, gripping the table with one hand while trying not to send his rifle clattering to the floor. When she released him, Jorgan felt like he could breathe for the first time. Until he saw that she'd removed her bra. His mouth went dry, attention drawn to the two perfect peaks that he wasn't allowed to caress.

Fynta pretended not to notice, nodding down the line. "Five hundred yards, Major. Make this shot, and…" Her thumbs slipped into the elastic of her underwear, dragging one side low enough to expose her hip bone.

Snapping his attention back to that infuriating smirk, Jorgan's eyes narrowed. "I'll have you when this is over, woman."

The impish grin widened. "I'm counting on it."

With rolled eyes, Jorgan forced himself to bend forward and press the high tech eye patch to the scope again. Visions of what he planned to do to Fynta after this shot played out in distracting clarity. He'd bend her over the stall and take her from behind until she was panting in Mando'a, then—

The brush of fabric caught his attention a second before Aric's thoughts splintered into a hundred shards of light. Wet heat enveloped him, wrapping his mind in cotton while his body hummed to life. Even when he looked down to find Fynta on her knees, head bobbing while her mouth made delicious sucking noises, his mind couldn't make sense of it. He'd had a fantasy like this a long time ago and was almost certain that he'd never mentioned it to Fynta.

Fynta took Aric into the back of her throat, gripping his hips when he tried to push for more and glanced upward. The damn woman smiled, and somehow it was all the more radiant with his cock in her mouth. "What—" her throat flexed and his words scattered.

Pulling back, Fynta smiled with an innocence she'd never possessed. "Take the shot, riduur." Her tongue flicked out to tease him, and Aric shivered. "If you can."

The defiant note in Fynta's voice battered against the haze of pleasure she'd lured Jorgan into. It reminded him of his purpose. With one hand, Jorgan cupped Fynta's chin, his thumb brushing across her bottom lip. "You're on."

Odessen Alliance Base Command Quarters 03:47 Hours

Fynta should be asleep. Her body ached in that delicious way it always did when Aric let loose in bed. She'd never been more grateful that Shillet chose to stay over with Elara and Cormac. There were some sounds that a girl should never hear her father make.

The man in question sprawled on his stomach, one arm draped over Fynta's torso. He'd meant to cuddle, no doubt, but had succumbed to exhaustion before completing the act. Smiling, Fynta scraped her nails over Aric's scalp. It had been a good night, a way to reconnect over what they did best. Probably not what Cormac had meant with his pep talk. But, Fynta felt more in sync with her husband than she had in months. She hoped that their unorthodox exercise had bolstered his confidence behind the scope too.

Fynta stretched, then settled closer to her husband. Aric pulled her against his body without opening his eyes, sliding one hand under her shirt while burying his face in her hair. It reminded Fynta of those stolen moments back on the Thunderclap in between missions. Their romance had been fresh and forbidden back then. They'd risked their careers to be together. Now, Fynta worried that they risked more.

You can't do this without me.

Valkorion had been sedate since Aric's reveal of the mad Sith's long trapped father. He muttered ominous warnings in the back of Fynta's mind, but had yet to approach her outright. Fynta didn't think he was scared. More like the chakaar was plotting, biding his time until an opportunity presented itself; a way to take away her choice.

Fynta's comm buzzed across the room. A second later, Aric's joined it. Muttering a curse, Fynta wiggled out from under her husband's arm. Aric grumbled and rolled onto his back. "Thought we'd banned those things from the bedroom."

In the second it took Fynta to open her mouth for a snarky retort, the floor lifted her into the air. There was the feeling of weightlessness, a moment to think of some choice words, then her weight drove the air from Aric's lungs. Their eyes met, and Fynta's comm flickered to life at the end of the bed where it had landed. Theron appeared in muted blues, shirtless and typing furiously.

Fynta scrambled off her husband while he rolled to his feet to find his gear. "Theron, what the hell was that?"

Fynta had known Theron for a long time. She'd seen him in all manner of circumstances from exasperated friend to cold blooded murderer, even a desperate lover once or twice. She'd never seen fear on his face, not until his hazel eyes met hers through the holo. "It's Vaylin. She found us."

#blood in the breeze #meet me on the battlefield #fynta wolfe #aric jorgan #balic cormac #keshal vaak #theron shan #shillet jorgan #zolah holran #lana beniko #smutty fun on the firing range #a lot of choices #some bigger than others #all important #valkorion is not impressed

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mlmxreader · 2 years

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Keep A Close Eye | Corinthian x nb!reader

Anonymous asked: Corinthian x angel!reader

He thinks he can fix the Corinthian but uno reverse he ends up falling (in multiple ways) for him :)

summary: sent to keep an eye on the Corinthian, you can't say you're exactly surprised when you develop certain feelings that an angel should never feel for a nightmare.

tws: mentions of murder and violence, swearing, smoking

You were assigned to keep an eye on the Corinthian, as a being with similar phsyical power to the Endless - although not quite as strong as them - it was easy for you to get in his good books; he has you down in two seconds. An angel with a soft spot for the mortals' rock and metal music and their horror films. Corinthian had you pinned down to a T in seconds; he didn't mind you hanging around, though, he quite liked your company and he thought it was funny to tease you here and there. He liked having you around, he liked it when you sat in the passenger seat of his Mustang and you felt the wind between your fingertips and sang along to CDs he had in his car; he didn't think he would ever hear 'Girls, Girls, Girls' by Mötley Crüe sung so beautifully ever again. He didn't think he'd hear the words with such passion and joy that it made him grin.

You weren't just there to keep an eye on him, though, admittedly, you had always had your curiosity about the nightmare; you had always been quite curious about humanity, too. You felt more at home with the term nonbinary than their other terms, and when you told Corinthian, he immediately switched to what you liked; maybe humanity was rubbing off on him, maybe he wasn't as much of a dick as everyone had told you. He was... good, really; you were certain that if he was given the time and patience and kindness... maybe he would actually stop killing. Maybe.

Still, those nights where you wandered around the empty streets and holding onto his arm and leaning into his side and sharing earbuds, listening to Mötley Crüe - he seemed to really like that one band - were probably some of the best nights you had ever had; the nights where he would pull you under a bus stop and he would sit on the red bench with his legs spread and keep you between them, his hands on your sides as he watched you so closely, so carefully, as you lit up a cigarette. "My angel," he would whisper under his breath, not wanting you to hear it, "all mine".

You wished. You really, really, wished that was the truth, but you knew it could never happen; he was a nightmare, he killed for pleasure, he killed because he enjoyed it and he liked it. You were an angel, you were meant to protect, you were made to keep things safe and sound. You weren't like him. But you helped him in the end; you managed, at least, to steer him towards those who deserved it. Such as the prince who had been hanging around with child abusers. You pointed him towards those who really did deserve it, if you couldn't get him to stop, you could at least make sure he wasn't going after people who didn't deserve it.

Your wings were clipped, so to speak, as when you were asked when you were going to return, you couldn't give a straight answer; you didn't want to leave him. You couldn't. He was... he was good. He was good, really. You just had to rewrite an ending that would fit; you had to change the story. You couldn't give him back to the Endless.

Still, you weren't shy, not really, and as you laid on your stomach on the bed, you stretched your wings out; great brown feathers a stage for the dancing golden light that streamed in through the cracks in the curtains. Some old rock song on the speaker as you watched the Corinthian.

"Y'know, angel," he started, "we make a pretty good team."

You dared to laugh a little as you shrugged. "Not a likely duo is it, though? An angel and a nightmare? Might as well be a dog and a snake."

"We still make a good team," he told you, coming over and pressing a glass of iced coffee into your hand as he dared to smile. He never could stop looking at you. The way you looked when you were so relaxed... that was his favourite.

When you were relaxed and your wings were out and he could run his fingers along the brown feathers, reminding him of a long eared owl in both looks and texture, knowing he was the only one who was allowed to do such a thing, knowing that you only trusted him to touch your wings; the way you groaned and squirmed into his touch. The lazy smiles. That was always his favourite.

"Maybe I ought to stick around," you mused. "If we make such a good team."

Moving to kneel in front of you, Corinthian didn't waste time, his hand on your jaw as he cleared his throat and groaned softly. "I never thought I'd meet an angel I actually liked."

"And yet here I am," you chuckled. "Although, I never thought I'd meet a serial killer I actually liked... a lot."

"A lot?" He quirked a brow, pouting his lips a little. "Did I just hear an angel say that they like a nightmare a lot?"

"Oh, shove off," you laughed, playfully shoving his face with your free hand as you moved to sit up, the ruffle of your feathers creating a slight breeze like someone had left the ceiling fan on its lowest setting for a moment. "You have any idea of how much fucking shit I could get into if I was..."

"Who cares?" Corinthian scoffed. "We're not there. We're here, with the mortals. Who's gonna know, angel?"

"I guess you got a point," you nodded. "Are you sure that you can stay tied down, though? I know you have an appetite for-"

"I'm sure," he nodded, gently tracing the top of your wing just to make you shiver. "If you are."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #the corinthian x y/n #the corinthian x reader #corinthian x you #corinthian x y/n #corinthian x reader #the corinthian imagine #corinthian #the corinthian #Corinthian imagine #the sandman x reader #the sandman imagine #sandman imagine #sandman x reader #the sandman #sandman

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if-mirrormine · 1 year

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Hi its me the anon who sent the first message. Oops I didn't mean to start a whole advice train. But I do have some examples! So someone mentioned brightly colored skinny jeans and yes for sure BUT split leg skinny jeans were also very much a thing. Like the legs were two different patterns or two different colors. I had a friend that only wore jeans where the legs were different. Also snake bites (a lip piercing on both sides of the bottom lip) and spider bites (2 lip piercings right next to each other) for piercings for the sceenie weeny kids (yes that was the term). Also the headbands weren't pushing hair back but keeping the bangs down. You just put a giant piece of elastic directly on top of your head and pushed your hair onto your forehead. No lipstick but yes lip gloss. Always wearing a tank top too. Preferably with lace at the top for modesty. Also layers of pants. Tights under ripped jeans under a skirt or dress. Also those rubber bracelets (either the livestrong ones, band ones, silly bandz, or the colorful ones that all meant different things). You either wore lots of colors all the time or mostly black with pops of color (usually a band tshirt) also this was the era of ombre and dyed tips. Converse were a big deal among my group or sperrys were big among the more popular groups. Most of the fashion was pretty universal. Like both emo kids and popular people would wear the headbands to push their bangs down they were just different styles of headband and different styles of bangs. Also I didn't know a single kid who didnt write or draw on their arms and hands. Usually homework or notes but I used to draw fake tattoos or one time I drew fake gloves on my hands. People doodled on their hands and arms and also shoes. If you were wearing Converse someone had drawn a heart, skull, or star on the toe cap.

Sorry that got really long but I vividly remember 2011 lol

#this is all extremely helpful #thank you anon #message received☎️#anonymous

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fragileizywriting · 9 months

Text

"Oh, you're a straight dumbass," she cackles, holding her sides, squeezing so she doesn't laugh any harder. "Hold on, hold— hold on, I've got to get a picture."

"Fuck off," he moans.

"And miss out on sending something to Anarka? No way."

"Don't send this to my mom."

"She'll make it into this year's Christmas postcard," she muses. "Hold still for me?"

The flash is on, because Marinette has no sense of subtlety, snapping away what feels like quite literally a dozen or so photos of him wearing the neck brace. He doesn't bother stopping her as she flits around the little waiting room like a moth, taking videos, taking photos, putting AR filters on him to make it look like he has little bunny ears. Blearly, he makes the thought that Alix will get a kick out of that one, but any thought that follows it too hard for his already stuffy, cotton brain to think past. Not only has he hurt his neck, but his pride and ego ("What ego?" he can hear Marinette say as she cackles harder). This isn't worth picking a fight with.

"Kitty, you're giving me vertigo with how fast you're moving," he mumbles.

"Fine, I'll sit down. I've had my fun," she says, crossing her legs at her chair with a bright laugh. She's typing faster than anything he's ever seen, no doubt sending all of these photos to as many people as possible. How she has reception, he has no idea, but he'll just live with it for now. "I can't believe you fell for it."

It seemed "reachable" in theory. First mistake is trusting anything she says, though.

Marinette, with the powers of the cat Miraculous, has a few upsides: she's flexible, practically a contortionist, folding herself into the weirdest most uncomfortable pretzels he's ever seen. With the snake Miraculous, he's just as flexible, though he hadn't tested the limits of how far his pretzelness went until today.

Because of Marinette.

Marinette: did you know that at this point you could probably suck your own dick? Luka: What? Marinette: yeah. i mean, we're flexible enough. i can lick my own thigh. i think your dick would be easier to reach than your own thigh, though. Luka: Kitty, it's too early for this. Marinette: don't lie to me, i know you're stripping right now and you're going to try it Luka: Go away. I'll tell you how it goes, I guess?

Like an idiot, he'd tried.

Failed.

Oh, how he failed.

Marinette had come with him to the doctor's, slapping an untruthful yet very convincing "I'm his girlfriend!" when the nurse had mentioned that friends weren't allowed in; he'd grimaced, more of the pain in his neck that flared with every movement he made below the shoulders than anything else, but she didn't give up.

"And 'send'," she exclaims to herself, looking him over. "What a sight to behold!"

"You're a sadist."

"Sure am, Vai. This is just precious."

"You're the worst."

"Nawh. Well, yeah. Maybe."

"You owe me."

She barely blinks, leaning her chin into her palm she has propped up using the hand rests of the plastic, grey chair. "What's your neck worth to you?"

"A date," he punches out, completely out of thin air. The two of them freeze, unsure if that's what he meant— it's hard, he has a habit of blurting things out, and so does she because of the ADHD, and they're at a standstill.

"Wait," she says, mouth pulled into a weird line.

"You announced to everyone in the reception area that you're my girlfriend, and you know I hate liars."

"W-wait."

"Go on a date with me."

"I—"

"My neck is worth a single date with you."

"But—"

"No take-backs," he starts, but the rest of the sentence fizzles out of him when he sees her face. Heated, practically as red as Mister Bug's suit, her freckles all but disappear. A quiet Marinette is a dangerous one.

"Okay," she wheezes.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay," he parrots, doing his best not to nod. "Awesome. Cool. Uh. I didn't actually think you'd say yes, but—"

"I didn't imagine you'd ask me out here."

"Well. Today's just full of surprises," he puts lightly.

#speakizys #sharks and sugar #4am ginseng tea #not really the second one but i'll make the exception

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humanoidalien27 · 1 year

Text

Content warning: Seb-interupt-ious (😂), venomous snakes

.....

Chapter 5

The Scriptorium

Being back in the scriptorium was eerie, especially with it being less dusty and more lived in, but at least you didn't have to go through being tortured to get in.

You and Sebastian immediately set to work with trying to find anything about ancient magic, while Anne and Ominis wandered around not knowing what to do.

While Sebastian went for the book shelf, you thought it was too obvious, so you started digging through the desk, though you didn't find anything. So, you moved to glance around, but didn't even see any ancient magic traces either.

Frustrated, you moved towards a snake torch that was the only one unlit. Taking out your wand, you cast incendio on the torch, it flared up and went out nearly instantly.

"Curious," you mumbled as Anne and Ominis attention turned towards you.

You backed up and hit the torch with confringo, hearing something click and a door behind one of the walls opened.

"I don't recall this passage way being here before," Ominis said as you peeked down the dark corridor.

"So, do we go down the creepy path or decide against it?"

When you looked back, Ominis was smiling. "You're asking us now?"

Giving him a smile, you replied. "Yeah, we're a team."

He reached out, fishing around for your hand, so you moved it into his path, where he grabbed it and squeezed it. "We are."

"You two are getting sickly cute, save that for when you're alone," Sebastian teased, getting a whack for it.

"We're never alone and when we are, you keep interrupting us," you complained as you led everyone down the stairs, still holding Ominis's hand.

"You two just have bad timing on your romantic moments."

"Sebastian," Anne hissed as you shook your head, mentally reminding yourself to curse him with the leg locker later.

You stepped down into a dimly lit room seeing another desk, but a book on a podium in the middle of the room was swirling with ancient magic.

"I think we found it," you said walking over.

"This place is creepy," Anne said wiping at some dust on the nearest shelf.

You reached out towards the book, but once your hand touched it, a metal snake wove around your wrist and bit down on your arm, while it hissed at you.

Ominis started conversing in parseltongue while you tried to shove it off, but it only did once the snake language stop.

You ripped yourself way from the stand, grabbing your arm as you groaned in pain. Ominis was already pushing a wiggenweld potion into your hand after uncorking it.

"What was that all about?"

Fire was quickly spreading through your veins, making you want to jump into the black lake in winter.

"Later, first drink this. That snake had poison in it's teeth," Ominis said snatching the book quickly off the stand as you downed the potion, the fire slowly extinguished.

"That wasn't exciting," Anne said rolling up your sleeve to see the two puncture marks rapidly healing.

"I hate this place," you whispered as you took the book back and opened it away from your face just in case there was more magic protecting it. "I hate Salazar Slytherin."

"That doesn't include me right? Descendant of Salazar."

You lightly patted his shoulder. "No it doesn't, but I'm starting to think you're not related. You are the exact opposite of Salazar."

He smiled as he blushed, pleased with that answer, but you weren't saying it to make him feel better, you meant it.

You heard stone scraping, making all of you look back towards the noise.

"We have to get out of here!" Sebastian hissed softly, his eyes already glancing around the room as if an exit would magically appear.

I looked around seeing a familiar swirl of magic on the door.

"This way," you said, grabbing Ominis's hand and pulling him after you.

Ominis groaned once you passed through. "This is unsettling. Are we in the common room?"

"Yeah, that makes me feel better about sleeping here," Anne whispered, getting all of you to nod before heading to your dormitory.

You sound proofed the room as all of you sat down.

"When should we go talk to Godric?" Anne asked after you sat in a moment of silence. "We did promise him."

"I know, but tomorrow," you replied, trying to calm your racing heart. "I still haven't learned the true secret this book is keeping."

She nodded as she flopped down onto her bed. "Alright, then I'm going to go to sleep. We have an early day tomorrow."

You sit against the headboard and opened the book, instantly seeing ancient magic swirling.

"It's empty?" Sebastian half growled as he flipped the pages to the middle.

"No, I can see the words. I think he hid them."

"Makes sense," Ominis replied, running his hand over the page. "You wouldn't want just anyone reading the book."

Sebastian huffed before tossing his robe onto his bed. "I figured that snake was enough."

Sighing, you started to look through the book, as the twins left to get ready for bed.

"Thank you," you whispered, lightly pressing your shoulder into Ominis's.

"For what?"

"Telling the snake to let go."

Blush spread across his cheeks as he bowed his head a little out of embarrassment.

"I'm sorry it bit you," he said, already reaching over to wrap his hand around your wrist.

"It's not your fault."

He rested his head against yours, his eyes closed as his body relaxed.

"How are you feeling?"

Nearly chuckling, you shifting your head to face his. "I'm alright. The pain and the burning are gone."

"That's good," he whispered as his fingers traced along your cheek while he lifted his forehead from yours. "I wish I could see you everyday."

"Ominis, you see me better than anyone else ever could."

He smiled bashfully, his eyelashes casting shadows down his cheeks as he bowed his head.

"Do you mean that? You don't mind that I can't see- you could do better."

Feeling this was more of an insecurity of his rather than him thinking you worried about it, you replied. "I've never once thought that you being blind was a disability. It's apart of who you are and I like you. All of you."

His eyes flickered closed while you ran your fingers under his eye.

"Your eyes are beautiful, especially in the light."

He pressed your hand into his cheek, while a tear jetted down them.

As you carefully pulled him closer, you pressed your lips between his brows, hearing him sigh.

"You're not mad?"

Confused, you pulled back to look at him. "About what?"

"Me asking about it? About wishing you'd pick better?"

"No, I'm not mad. I couldn't ever be mad about you wanting better for me, even if I'm supposed to decide that. And about you being blind, everyone has things they feel makes them different and people will pick at it until their voice bullies us in our heads long after they've left our lives. It doesn't make it true. Being blind is the same as having magic, it's just a part of us."

His hand left yours before his fingers brushed against your face until they ran across your bottom lip, getting your breathing to hitch.

Both of you jumped when the door opened and the twins came into the room.

Ominis sighed as he pulled back. "I swear, they have terrible timing."

Laughing to hide your disappointment, you moved to begin reading the scriptorium's book as Ominis headed towards the twins.

The book was mostly Salazar's thoughts and ideas about the magic he had and no one else seemed to, but he felt that it was older magic that seemed to get stronger as he aged. It even had a few spells he had created with it, one being the spell he used to steal Apollo's magic. He ended up finding a cave no one would touch below the castle, further than you had gone with the Keepers.

"What's wrong?"

You looked up seeing Anne watching you, grabbing her brother and Ominis's attention.

"According to this, there are caverns under the school."

"We know that, the repositories-"

You shook your head. "No, deeper than that," you said moving closer to point out the paragraph forgetting they couldn't read it for a moment. "This says that Salazar tried to find how to open a door down there, but it refused to open. There were no keys, no spells could get through, nothing. He's stealing magic to amplify his own to try breaking in."

"And he now has his eyes set onto you," Ominis whispered, shifting closer. "What do you want to do?"

"Well, running isn't going to help anyone, but maybe I can find a way into the cavern to see the door. It might have answers for what exactly this magic is."

"If Salazar finds his book gone, he'll know we're looking into this. We need this to be a surprise, so maybe we should try to put the book back while we have the chance to," Sebastian replied as he closed the book. "Did you read through it?"

"Yeah, it was mostly Salazar's thoughts and spells, but nothing that explains why only we have access to it."

"Then after we talk to Godric, Helga and Rowena, we need to ask then to cover for us while we go digging through that cavern."

Nodding, all of you moved to head to bed, agreeing to put the book back in the morning.

.....

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #fanfiction #ominis x reader #ominis x oc #anne sallow #ominis x you #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you

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meeludrawz · 11 months

Text

Coma - Part 1?

Hello! Idk how long this is so take yourself more than 10mins lmao I'm not sorry >:3 I always think that what I'm doing is cringe but it makes me so happy when I do it ngvhbbgvnhb Anyways, text under the cut @ackalice

"WAIT!!" Bulan slowly stood up, leaving her weapon on the ground and raised her hands in a placating way. The fierce wind blew her tears on each side of her head. Surrounded, she and Leo were both encircled by plenty of Kraang bots. Their guns were all aimed in their direction, but mostly her. Leo was lying on the ground, right next to her, and brushed Bulan's foot with the tip of his fingers. Silently and his eyes closed, he was asking her to not give up the battle yet but what else was she supposed to do when the love of her life was two seconds away from dying? "Please Kraangs! Let us go!" Seeing that they didn't react much, she continued. "I'll do anything you guys want! Please I'm begging you! I- I could even tell you where our lair is!" The snake lady glanced at them, they were too many guns pointed in her direction. "..B-Bu.... Lan.." The blue-masked turtle breathed, barely able to open his eyes. The snake lady threw a glance at Leo, she was having a hard time to even looking at him in this state. He did so much for her and now, because of her, he was going to die. Bulan had no choice but to betray the turtles.. Unwillingly, she faced back the Kraangs. [I'm so sorry Leo.. Please forgive me for what I'm about to do..] (<That is thinking)

Bulan slowly stood up, almost jolting as she felt a hand on her shoulder. The snake mutant examined her surroundings, the sun was long gone and only the dim purple lights of the room were on. Leo was lying in front of her while sitting on the floor, her arms resting on the mattress. Donnie was the one who woke her up, standing behind her, he gently patted her shoulder. "You should head to bed, it's late.." "Mhm.." Bulan mumbled, half awake as she tried to get up. She easily lost balance but Donnie was quick enough to catch her. "Your legs are asleep, it'll hurt a bit but I'm here don't worry" The purple-masked turtle helped her get to a chair. "How long have you been here, Bulan? Did you even.. eat?" The snake mutant didn't even answer any of his questions. She avoided them instead by asking another question. "Is he going to wake up soon?" Donnie sighed, she was a stubborn gal, wasn't she? "You're not helping yourself.. You need to eat" Silent and unmoving, Bulan kept her gaze on Leo, hoping that he would wake up. Since he fell into a coma, she became the complete opposite of what she was. She wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep and would almost never leave his side. "Bulan I-" The purple masked turtle started but immediately sighed. "If I tell you how he's doing, do you promise to go eat and sleep?" This time, she looked at Donnie. The snake mutant didn't answer but the purple-masked turtle didn't need any to know that's what she wanted. Donatello then started, once again, to explain that his vital signs were stable and that he was even showing brain activity. (Listen I don't know shit about the doctor vocabulary so just imagine alright? lmao) That meant Leo could wake up anytime but it still has been 6 months since the last time he was fully awake. "He got badly hurt, but now that he's healed, he could and should, wake up anytime soon" Bulan's legs weren't asleep anymore so she got up, holding her stomach and grabbed Leo's hand with both of her hands. "Please wake up soon.. We all miss you so much.." She whispered before glancing down at her stomach. The snake lady then glanced back up at him. "I don't want them to grow up without their father.."

Sitting at his desk, Donnie was working on some little projects at his pc. He couldn't do much because of the size of his new lab and also because of his older brother's presence. He couldn't risk harming Leo by playing around with gadgets and stuff. Donnie took a sip of his coffee and spotted his brother moving in the reflection of his black mug. He quickly turned his head around, but Leo looked as dead as before. The turtle sighed, it has been 5 days since he had this small conversation with Bulan. He spoke to the others about her health and since then, they were all trying their best to change her mind. Bulan was still visiting Leo, of course, but it was less frequent than before. Not her fault if the others were all trying to kidnap her to go shopping and other stuff like this. And, at least, she was eating and sleeping more. "As a scientist, I-.. I don't know if you're ever gonna wake up.. But as your brother.. I'm just like Bulan, I wish- No- I really hope you're gonna wake up" He smiled a little. "You know.. You were right about Space Heroes, it's a good show. Some parts aren't logic at all but it's still good. Just don't tell Mikey or Raph" Donnie scoffed but his smile quickly vanished. "I don't know what I was expecting.." He mumbled as he got up from his chair. It was late and he wanted to sleep so he saved his project on his computer and turned it off. "..Bu-.. Lan" A quick gasp came out of Donnie's mouth. He turned around so fast that he almost tripped on his own legs. His older brother still wasn't moving so he hesitated, was he hallucinating? Usually he started to hallucinate after 3 days of not sleeping.. But he slept yesterday- "..Bulan-.." Donatello saw Leo's lips moving. "OHMYGODLEO-" He muffled his own screaming behind his hand as he started to examine his brother. "D-Donnie?" The blue masked turtle whispered, half-awake and half-confused. "Where's-" He started but quickly shut himself as Donnie's hand was almost shoved into his face. "How many fingers do you see?" Leo rolled his eyes. "Three" "Alright, okay that's good, really good- If uh you feel nauseous or maybe if you have a headache- Literally anything that feels off, just tell me alright?" Donnie spoke fast, maybe a little too fast for Leo. "Wha- Why, where's Bulan?" Leo confusedly asked as he sat up. "Heyheyheyhey- Don't get up yet, Leo you just came out of a coma" Leo glanced at his brother and blinked. "What- How long- How long was I out?" The purple masked turtle looked at his watch, he mumbled as he calculated. "About 6 months, 5 days and-" Leo shoved his hand on his brother's mouth. He maintained eye contact with Donnie. "Six months, got it" Leo removed his hand. "What happened?" "Your memory seems intact so far so I guess a little recap shouldn't be too much" Donnie started, he grabbed his chair closer to Leo's bed and sat down. "We.. Lost the battle against the Kraangs and we were forced to leave. Because-" "Bulan told them where our lair was" Leo interrupted him, again. "About that, Leo, please don't get mad, she did what she thought was best and without her, you would've died" The purple-masked turtle waited for an answer by looking at Leo, but he never spoke so he continued. "Elina gave birth to a boy, his name is- No, I think it's better if she tells you herself. Mikey's being quite responsible about him, it'll probably be some kind of shock for you but-" He cleared his throat, here he was again, about to ramble. "Anyways Bulan is- Erm" He hesitated. Would it be best if he discovered by himself or if he told him?

"Bulan what? Is she okay? Where is she? I thought she would be there-" Leo's eyes widened. "Dee, don't tell me she's with the Kraangs since then" Donnie's eyes also widened. "Nonononono! Of course not! She just hasn't been sleeping or eating a lot lately so I'd prefer if you waited until morning to see her and the others. It'll leave you some time to rest a bit before they toss you around and overwhelm you" Leo confusedly looked at his brother. He examined his surroundings and his glance fell on Donnie's digital clock. 2:43am. He raised a "brow" toward his brother. Donatello chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Stop looking at me like that, I was gonna sleep but you woke up" "I think you should worry about someone else" Leo scoffed. "Auuughhh don't remind meee.." Donnie whined before they both laughed together.

"Okay so I couldn't find your mask, Bulan probably has it, but I got your clothes. I fixed the holes in your pants and-" Donnie stopped himself as he realized that Leo wasn't there. "Leo?" He called as he checked around, even in the bathroom. No turtle in sight. "Oh god, where is he?" Donnie slightly panicked as he ran out of his lab. The snake mutant was awake, she was slowly walking toward the kitchen since she was hungry. Well no, she was craving something in particular. Chocolate and mustard, what a strange combo. She even thought it was weird, but being pregnant, it was probably not that uncommon. Bulan started eating her strange combo until she heard footsteps getting closer. "I know, I know, I'm supposed to bed in bed but I got this craving and-" She dropped her chocolate.

--------------------------------------------------------------------- YOU GUYS DON'T KNOW HOW HARD THEY BOTH ARE TO DRAW BUT I HAD SO MUCH FUN THOUGH I almost cried at some point because gosh, it's so romantic *melts while sobbing*

Also don't worry Donnie, Leo found his mask :) Idk if there's going to be another part to this

#tmnt #my art #my wriring #tmnt oneshot #rottmnt #rise of the turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2012 #teenage mutant ninja turtles oc #tmnt oc #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich · 2 years

Text

Shin x Mermaid!Reader drabble

So in spite of saying I wouldn't write this idea, I might have found myself with a little too much time on the train and I ended up writing this. Apologies if the formatting is a little off, I'm having to post this from mobile ;-;

You watched from a corner of the small, half-submerged cave you called home as the human you'd found drowning and half-dead several days ago struggled to pull on the fresh pair of trousers you'd fetched for him. Well, fresh might have been a bit of a stretch, you'd found them in the same wreck that had previously carriedly your current guest and after determining they weren't too much the worse for wear for their short stay in the ocean, you'd left them to dry out in the sun for a couple of days on the rocks by your cave. The result was a pair of stiff, salt-stained, but otherwise clean, pair of trousersーa vast improvement on the torn-up blood covered mess your charge had been wearing when you'd found him.

You glanced at the offending rags which had been tossed to edge of the small ledge the humanーShin, as he'd crossly yelled at you when you'd tried to explain to him that you'd brought him here for his own good, that you hadn't been sure he'd make it if you'd tried to get him to the mainlandーwas currently perched on. Shin, you'd learned from your short time together, had the ill-temper of a sea snake and you weren't entirely sure how he'd react if you disposed of something that technically belonged to him, even if the item in question was thoroughly ruined and foul already.

You were snapped out of your musings by the sound of Shin cursing under his breath as he fought to get his legーthe injured one you'd had to remove a harpoon bolt fromーinto the overly stiff fabric. He truly was in a sorry state, you thought, as you looked over the deep purple bruises marring his pale skin, the long gash running from his clavical to his belly button, like someone had tried to cut his torso in two and the angry red skin around the wound in his leg. You hoped it wasn't infectedーit shouldn't be with the magic you'd used to stabilise him, but your magic was meant to be used on your fellow mer and other sea creatures, not gravely injured humans with one foot in death's door already. Not that he'd shown any gratitude to you for it, in fact, Shin was perhaps the most singularly ungrateful creature you'd ever encountered. At least, underneath all the blood and bruises, he was quite pretty to look at—or rather, he was when he wasn't scowling, which was admittedly not much of the time.

He was scowling at you now in fact, you realised, his single eye narrowed at you.

"How long exactly are you planning on watching me like some kind of creep?" he demanded, pausing his efforts to pull on his trousers.

You allowed yourself to float up slightly, so your head was fully out of the water. "I'm keeping an eye on you because I don't trust you won't fall into the water with the way you're wiggling around." Indeed, the ledge he was perched on was narrower than you'd like and he'd fallen from it once already, when he'd taken a swipe at you just after waking only to loose his balanceーyou'd never seen anyone look quite so cross as when you'd saved him from drowning for a second time.

"I'm not going to fall in so quit staring at me!" he yelled, only to wince as he tugged the trousers higher, the stiff fabric rubbing against his injured thigh.

"If you'd just let me helpー"

"I've already told you," he snapped, viscously working the material towards his hips as if to prove a point, "I don't need your damnー" he cut off, his single eye bulging as he realised he'd wobbled too close to the edge and was about to go tumbling into the water. Moving quickly, you used the cave wall behind you to launch yourself towards him, catching him just before he hit the surface.

Given how badly he'd reacted to being saved on previous occasions, you could just imagine how much he was going to hiss and spit at you for this latest incident, so you tried to keep as little contact as possible between the two of you as you gingerly pushed him back onto his ledge. Once you were sure he was properly balanced again, you dove back beneath the water, returning to your spot by the wall of the cave.

You peeked above the surface, waiting for the inevitable tantrum to kick in. All of the signs were there, his faceーwhich was dimly illuminated via the sunlight filtering in through a small hole in the cave roofーhad turned the same shade of red it usually did just before he started shouting and his lips were pulled into the sort of grimace one made after taking a bite of something only to find it rotten.

There was a tense pause as you waited, wondering whether this time you shouldn't go off and leave him alone for a bit to save yourself the earache. But when Shin finally opened his mouth he said quietly, "I'm not going to thank you so you can quit taking pity on me."

You blinked at him, once, twice. "Pity?" you echoed, not sure what strange attitude had come over him and whether or not it was better than the yelling.

"Why else are you still here? There's no other reason to stick around if you're so disgusted by me." The red had reached the tips of his ears, which was new, but you couldn't tell what it meant. In fact none of this made sense to you, and you could only wonder if you'd committed some odd human faux pas to make him act in such a way.

"I'm not... disgusted by you," you replied for lack of a better thing to say. For some reason it only made his frown deepen.

"Oh really?" he said, turning to glare at you. "Why else are trying to keep so much distance from someone you saved? It's because you're repulsed by the idea of touching someone so much weaker than you, right?"

"That's notーHonestly I've been keeping my distance for fear that you might bite me." It wasn't a lie either, Shin's teeth might have been blunter than yours but he looked a lot more inclined to use them.

Surprise flickered briefly over his features before they settled again in something that looked more like anger. "I'm not some stray dog!"

You'd never actually seen a dog yourself but you had heard about them. From what you understood they were loud things that barked and yapped a lot for attentionーa description that honestly seemed more than a little fitting although you didn't dare say so.

Taking care to stay at least partly above the water, you slowly swam over to him, pausing when you got close enough for him to reach out and touch you in case this was some sort of trick. Shin did nothing but watch you warily, tracking your movement across dark surface as you approached.

Once you were sure he wasn't going to try to pounce on you, you closed the final short distance and rested your arms on the lip of the ledge, using them to pull yourself further up out of the water. You didn't miss the way his eye slid down to your now exposed bare chest, and you wondered whether he was looking for where the human-like part of you ended and your tail began.

"It's not that I think you're weaker than me butー" you swallowed, sucking on your slightly pointed teeth as you chewed the words over in your mouth. "You're not made to live in the ocean like me. I know some humans can swim, albeit badly, but with your injuries, I can't imagine it'd be long before you drowned." You absently trailed your fingers over the gills at the base of your neck, a stark reminder of how the two of you were not built to live in the same space.

Shin's lone eye snapped back to your face and he frowned at you, as though searching for some sign you were lying.

"I wouldn't last five minutes on land, you know," you told him, gently placing one of your hands atop his where it rested on the ledge to show you weren't averse to touching him. "I guess that you'd be the strong one there." You knew humans sometimes smiled when reassuring each other so you gave it a tryーalthough it was possible that your inhuman features rendered the gesture null.

A funny mixture of emotions flicked across his face, the majority of which you struggled to read as he cycled through them so quickly, although you definitely caught surprise more than once. Eventually he settled on staring at a patch of water to your right, notably avoiding eye contact as pulled his hand back like you'd burned him.

"Of course I would, you wouldn't even be able to walk so you'd probably get trodden on or kicked before you could drag yourself off the beach," he said with sneer, although you couldn't detect any real venom in the words.

You allowed yourself to sink back down into the water again, until just your fingertips rested on the cool stone edge. "Yes well, once another one of your father's ships comes by, I'll help you get on it and you can go back there. In the meantime, are you sure you don't want any help with your clothes?" you asked, nodding towards the trousers that were still hanging round his upper thighs rather than his hips.

"No, I've got it." He tugged the fabric up, much more carefully than he had earlier and you watched as he finally got the clothing on properly, wincing everytime it rubbed over his injuries. Satisfied he was no longer at risk of tipping into a watery grave, you moved away from the ledge.

"I'm going to go hunting, is there anything... Specific you want me to try and catch?" You asked, body positioned to dive fully into the water.

Shin shook his head, still avoiding eye contact with you. "It all tastes like sea shit to me, and you can't even cook it properly anyway."

He was back to being hostile it seemed, as he turned away from you as much as the small ledge would allow. Still, at least this was familiar territory, unlike whatever strangeness had occurred earlier. With a final glance at him, you plunged fully into the water, the fins on your tail flowing behind you like silk as you swam out of the small underwater entrance into the wider ocean.

You missed the way Shin turned back a moment after you'd left, staring at the space you'd just occupied as he rubbed the skin over his heart. He must have had internal injuries or somethingーthere was no other reason for him to feel quite so weird as he had when you'd said that, when you'd touched him simply for the sake of it.

"Damn it," he muttered as he shifted himself into a more comfortable position, his injured leg sending a jolt along his nerves in protest.

At least the pain helped to distract from the lingering sensation of your hand on his.

#my writing #Shin Tsukinami #shin tsukinami x reader #if you saw this moments ago as part of a reblog shhh #Tumblr made it look like I didn't add anything so I'm making this it's own post #thank you to Lizzy for helping me proofread!

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scourgeheines · 2 years

Text

The Guard

Zachary walked through the alley. Bone to his right, Grapple to his left. Snake, Ice, and Claw were behind him. He turned around to make sure they were all following him.

The human gang on the other side of the alley had at least a dozen more men than he did.

"I told you once wolf!" The leader shouted, " This is our turf, it doesn't belong to you!"

"It's on hybrid land. So, yes, it does belong to us." Zachary said back, keeping the leash tight on his blood hungry instincts.

The gang leader snarled. Zachary snarled back, a bit of his wolf heritage showing through. Glowing eyes and sharp teeth showing.

"Get 'em boys!" The human ordered as he backed away from the fight about to start. This got on Zachary's nerves.

Claims to be a leader but never got his hands dirty. Typical human.

"Kill them. The boss is mine." He said quietly. The wolves rushed forward like a four man army. Bone having wandered off somewhere as usual and Zachary walking just behind them.

They shifted once the first human fired his pistol. They clearly weren't ready to face a seasoned warrior, and young soldiers ready to prove themselves to their new leader.

Zachary stepped over the carnage in the street and found the boss's scent. He tracked it down to the main road, saw the boss and then smiled.

The boss turned from some sixth sense only to see a pair of ice cold blues staring him down and a wolfish smile.

He ran. Zachary didn't bother.

The human jumped in his car he had waiting for him a block away and demanded that the driver get away as fast as possible.

The driver stepped on the gas and the tires spun but they couldn't move the vehicle when they were suspended in the air.

The gangster looked out the rear window to see a man with skin as white as snow and red eyes that seemed to glow with a feral type of hunger.

Bone stabbed the rear tire and ended up slicing the rubber almost completely off with how it was moving.

The demon let the car drop with such a force that the rim from the defeated tire bent.

The now terrified human turned when a soft tapping came from his window. He rolled it down and stared with fear at Zachary.

"Please! You can take the West side! Don't kill me!" He begged.

Zachary gave a nod to Bone and the albino moved to tear the driver out of the car, who much to his credit managed to get some shots off but they meant nothing to an immortal creature of hell.

As Bone ate the driver right in the street, Zachary stepped away from the window and ripped the car door open with such force that it flew across the street.

"Let's take a walk." He insisted as he grabbed the gangster and dragged him out of his seat.

The man shook with fear. In his line of work that line never meant anything good.

Zachary marched the man back to the alley where all the humans were dead. The human leader gagged at what he saw.

Throats were ripped out, limbs missing, skulls crushed. Two identical looking wolves were even playing a game of tug of war with a dismembered leg. Shaking their heads to try and tug it loose from their opponent's maw.

Zachary grabbed the man's jaw and forced him to look at his face.

"Go tell your rivals what you saw. And tell them that they're next if they fight back or continue their activities."

The man nodded vigorously before asking, " Who are you guys?"

Grapple and Zachary exchanged a look, what were they going to be called?

"The Guard." The black haired male said. He liked the sound of it but he would probably change it later.

The human turned and began to run but slammed directly into Bone, covered in the driver's blood and guts.

The wolves laughed when the gangster actually threw up. Only Grapple and Zachary remained straight faced. The old general's eyes on the young man.

Zachary wanted to spread his reputation with as little bloodshed as possible but when he did have to spill some, he never hesitated and he never did it quietly, using it as a sick show for anyone looking for examples of his power.

Grapple looked away sadly when Zachary walked back through the gore like it was pools of water and not blood.

This wasn't the brilliant, brave, cunning, young man he had raised, was he?

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ami-v-dragnire · 3 years

Photo

Day 22 // Body Positivity

Happy #TransDayOfVisibility🏳️‍⚧️💚🌈! Sending all the love to everyone!! I had this in the works from femslash feb but @sungmee and all the other artists working on the Make Trans Rights Stick (x) got me motivated to finish this asap (but still kinda late)! If you have money to spare please consider having a look and the wonderful stickers and postcard up for sale or even just donating! Limited time left!

event hosted by @ineffable-wives-central

pic id below cut

[ID: Digital illustration of of Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens. Aziraphale is turned towards Crowley and is kissing the corner of their mouth. Her right hand is cradling the side of Crowley’s head. Crowley is holding Aziraphale’s waist with their right hand and is holding a cane in their left. Aziraphale is wearing her waistcoat with the sleeves rolled up. She has a sleeve tattoo up her forearm featuring a flaming sword with a snake wrapped around it and floating eyes and wings. She has pansies in her hair in the colours of the nonbinary flag (yellow, white, purple, and black) and a bow tie with the agender flag (black, grey, white, and green). Crowley has long hair with grey streaks and a flower crown featuring the genderfluid flag colours (pink, white, purple, black, and blue). Their eyes are full yellow. Their dark bishop sleeved blouse has the transgender flag (blue, white, and pink) in the lining of the collar and they are wearing a dark long skirt. Their nails are pained in the genderqueer flag colours (purple, white, and green). Above them are two small speech bubbles. Each bubble has a heart. End ID]

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forever-rogue · 2 years

Note

Similar to your “who did this to you” but instead, reader is just straight up clumsy. Strapped in a chair full of bubble wrap? Expect a bruise. Fell over a feather? Happened. 2 times. Din got scared the first time. Second time he laughed.

AN | Din and reader in which reader is a total klutz! I relate way too much to reader in this scenario! Enjoy 😀

Warnings | Descriptions of non-graphic injury

Pairing | Din x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 1.9k

Masterlist | Din, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ��: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re limping,” you stopped dead in your tracks as his large presence loomed over you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turned on your heel, making sure to put most of your weight onto the ankle that wasn’t currently throbbing in pain. Offering the Mandalorian a tight lipped smile, you made a vague gesture and lightly shook your head.

“No,” you lied, pain coating the singular word as it came out between gritted teeth, “I’m not. You’re seeing things, Mando.”

“Now you’re lying to me?” he tilted his head to the side, silver beskar glinting in the low light of the ship. Huffing you, you brushed him off as you tried to shuffle away, “the only thing I’m seeing is you trying to hobble away without making it look like you’re hurt.”

“Yeah?” you asked, attempting to push past him…but failing desperately and almost collapsing against him as you both sighed. You looked at him, eyes wide with worry as you stared into the black T of his visor, “fine.”

“So you admit you’re hurt?” an arm snaked around your waist protectively as you just huffed at him, “what happened? Why were you trying to hide it?”

“Nothing happened,” you insisted with a deeply etched frown on your features as he helped to right you and keep the weight off of your ankle. You couldn’t see his face but you just imagined he was raising an eyebrow in question. After a few moments you finally gave in and stared at your feet, “I was in town earlier and I might have tripped over my own foot and rolled my ankle.”

The last part of your sentence was said so quickly, coming out in almost one word so that it took him a moment to decipher. Your cheeks warmed up under his watchful gaze before he realized what you said. He made a sound in the back of his throat somewhere between amusement and annoyance as he looked at the swollen joint, “you just…okay. I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?”

You shook your head before offering him a meek little smile.

“Why weren’t you going to tell me?” he asked as you shrugged innocently. You knew why; one - he still managed to intimidate you despite having been your employer for several months, and two - you knew he would overreact and didn’t want him to make a big deal of something so minute. It was just a rolled ankle but with him you’d think you’d lost the leg.

“I, ummm….dunno,” avoiding his gaze, you looked away as you tried to slowly make off for the cabinet brimming with medical supplies (bounty hunting was no easy feat after all). The Mandalorian put a gloved finger under your chin as he turned your gaze back to his, “didn’t want you to worry is all.”

“It’s my job to worry - gotta keep my partner safe after all. You’re no good to me - or yourself - injured.”

“I’ll slap some bacta salve on it and it’ll be fine,” you insisted, “if you hadn’t caught me I could be almost done and healed by now and you wouldn’t have noticed!”

“You should always tell me if something happens," he insisted as you dramatically rolled your eyes, "why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because this is what I was trying to avoid," you slowly pulled back from him; an immediate silence had fallen over the two of you. It wasn't that you didn't trust or like him; your relationship - strictly professional of course - was still fairly new and you weren't really trying to push any boundaries, "I-I didn't want you to make a big deal out of it and I also didn't want to worry you."

"I only want to make sure you're okay," was that a hint of...sadness in his voice? You hadn't meant to hurt his feelings, you just wanted to keep things businesslike and for you that meant keeping somewhat of a distance from him.

"I know and I...thank you," you gave him a little half smile, "really. It's nothing to worry about because I happen to be very clumsy and am more or less injury prone. You'll learn that in time, Mando."

"Can it really be that bad?" he asked with an amused lilt to his voice.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"We're not going to tell him a thing about this, okay buddy?" you turned to find Grogu still sitting on the floor next to you. He was busy playing with his metal ball and barely paying any attention to you, "Din has enough to worry about without me making it worse."

Your reflection stared back at you just as normally would, save for the large blossoming blue and purple bruise around your eye and cheek. All you had wanted to do was turn on the tap that seemed to have gotten stuck and then...whack. Your hand had slipped from the handle and smacked you right in the eye. The pain - and bruising - had been immediate. It wasn’t the first time you'd done and probably wouldn't have been the last but this just wasn't it.

"Fantastic," you sighed as you grabbed a tube of concealer from the cabinet. You almost never wore makeup or had the need to, but for once you were glad you owned some. It only took a few minutes to dab the concealer everywhere; the result wasn't the best but it was better than nothing. If you could just manage to stay in low enough light for a while, Din might not even notice.

Doubtful, but it was worth a shot.

Once you were satisfied with your little handiwork, you scooped Grogu up and headed back to the small garden of the house that now served as your home. You set him down to play in the patch of dirt with his ball and whatever else amused him while you finished tending to your fruits and vegetables. Having a more stable and permanent home had led to a lot more time for such hobbies. You never thought you'd like such things, but domestic life hadn't taken long to get used to. Especially not with Din and Grogu. It was almost funny to think at one point you didn't even know their names; now they were your home and heart - everything.

You sang quietly under your breath while you worked and he played, wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn't hear the arrival of a certain Mandalorian.

"Hello there," you almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice as he came strolling into the backyard. He had the audacity to chuckle as you clutched your rapidly beating heart, "sorry, cyar'ika."

"Din," he laughed as you stuck your tongue out at him. Grogu had wasted no time in waddling over to Din and tugged on his pant leg to be picked up. The Mandalorian had eagerly obliged, taking off his helmet to press his forehead against Grogu's, "you bantha fodder! You can't just sneak up like that!"

"Such language in front of a child," he laughed as you stood up and brushed yourself off.

"He's older than us...technically," you reminded him before you both laughed.

"I wasn't sneaking," Din insisted, "just because you didn't hear me."

"Yeah, yeah," you bounced over to him, practically beaming as he reached over and tenderly touched your cheek, "'missed you."

"I've only been gone since this morning," he laughed as you shrugged and leaned over and stole a quick kiss. You could feel him leaning into your touch as you grinned at him, "I missed you too."

Grogu babbled happily as he looked between the two of you, prompting you to kiss the top of his fuzzy little head. You couldn't leave the little one feeling left out, naturally.

You were about to say something else, but Din quickly stopped you as he reached up and put his hand under chin, angling your face towards his.

"What happened?"

Dank Farrik. In your excitement and surprise of seeing Din, you'd forgotten all about your face. Oops.

"Umm, nothing?"

"Just tell me, little klutz," he'd definitely gotten used to your clumsy tendencies over the last couple of years.

"Don't laugh," you pouted as he tried to put on a serious face which just caused his lips to twitch as he fought a smile, "I was trying to run a bath for him earlier and the tap got stuck and I tried to pull it and used too much force o-or something and got it loose and then smacked myself in the face."

"You did this to yourself," he asked as you just nodded sheepishly. Din couldn't help but laugh, the sweet sounds winning you over as you joined him in laughing, "well, I'm sure I can make it better."

"Yeah?" you asked sweetly as he nodded before pressing his forehead against yours.

"Yeah," he promised softly, "always."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A hiss escaped your lips as Din wiped away the makeup you had applied to cover the bruise and slight swelling. He murmured an apology under his breath as he looked at the injury in the light. It wasn’t too bad - superficial luckily and probably looked worse than it was due to the bruising.

“What’s the verdict, Dr. Djarin?”

“You’ll be fine,” he promised as he grabbed a warm washcloth and held it against the worst of swelling, “we’ll get some bacta salve on it and it should be fine in a day or so. The bruising might take a bit but the pain will be gone soon. The only thing I’m worried about is you.”

“Me?” you asked as he nodded, pulling out a jar of the salve that had become your good friend over the years, “why me?”

“Because you are a danger to yourself,” a smile tugged on his lips, “I’ve never met anyone that manages to hurt themselves as much as you.”

“But that’s why you love me,” you teased as he tenderly applied the cooling gel, which immediately made you feel better, “I always manage to keep you busy. Well, me and Grogu.”

“And to think the first time you hurt yourself, when you rolled your ankle, you didn’t want to tell me,” he reminded you as you laughed lightly, “isn’t this better?”

“Because you’re always dramatic,” you gently grabbed his hand when he was done and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, “but I love you either way.”

“I love you too,” he whispered as he swiped his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “look at you, cyar’ika, much better already. How about some tea and then we go to bed?”

“Thank you, Din,” you whispered, “for everything.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he insisted as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “although you could try being less of a danger to yourself!”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin x fem!reader #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #star wars

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levi-txliesiin · 3 years

Text

lay all your love on me

okay!! so this is my fic for @magpiencrow's 1.2k writing challenge.

this is based off of the song lay all your love on me, slowed, by putin

pairing: nikolai/reader

rating: general

tags: gn!reader w/ gn pronouns, fluff

summary: falling in love with nikolai lantsov told through several vignettes

or: mindless nikolai/reader fluff with a alina and ivan being little shits

warnings: right off the bat there's a nightmare about drowning in the ocean, and there's one (1) swear word at the end, but other than that, there's nothing

word count: 4.1k

read on ao3

constructive criticism, feedback, and reblogs are greatly appreciated !

I haven't written anything in a while, so i may be a bit rusty, but please enjoy :)

You were drowning, and also pretty damn sure you were going to die out here. Your lungs were on fire, screaming for air, but you couldn't emerge from the ocean for long enough to suck in a breath. Sure, your hand or head breached the surface every now and then, but a wave would come crashing down on you immediately after, destroying all your progress.

The undulating waves threw you around like a football - a very pathetic one, at that. As hard as you tried to fight the current, it still insisted on moving against you (stubborn bastard), so really you weren't going anywhere. Just pathetically bobbing around in the same pathetic place. You couldn't feel your limbs - the only thing you could feel was the agonising ache in your chest. It was as if your arms and legs had frozen over along with your will to live.

How easy it would be to just...

...let the ocean take you...

Suddenly, someone grabbed you by the wrist. You screamed, which was a mistake; immediately, salty seawater filled your mouth, making you gag and choke. Nevertheless, you valiantly tried to release yourself from whoever - whatever? - had their hold on you.

"Y/n, Y/n! Relax, darling, relax," a voice said, sounding out of breath. "It's me."

You whirled your head around. Sagging with relief, you gasped out the name of your saviour. "Nikolai."

"Yes. Yes, Y/n, my love, it's me. It's Nikolai," he soothed, running his hands over your wet hair.

"Nikolai," you breathed. "Nikola-" - a wave reared up on its hind legs, ready to come crashing down onto your friend, ready to take him away - "no, no, Nikolai, NO-!"

You startled, eyes flying open. You were shaking like a leaf. Were you cold, or was it just the adrenaline from the nightmare still making its course? You shook your head as if to rid your mind of the dream. It wasn't real. Nikolai had saved you that night. It was fine. It wasn't real.

But it could very well have been real, a traitorous voice in your mind whispered. Scowling, you cursed your pessimistic side. Even if a wave had separated you two, Nikolai would have fought tooth and nail to get to you again. You would have done the same. After all, you were childhood friends, and you knew better than anyone that Nikolai didn't let go of his loved ones so easily.

He hadn't wanted you to accompany him on his journey overseas as Sturmhond. You insisted otherwise, channeling some of Nikolai's stubbornness that had rubbed off on you. ("You're not getting rid of me that easily, idiot. So let me come, unless you want me to steal your kneecaps.").

A half-smile appeared on your face as you thought back to the memory. Slowly, you got up from your bed. Your blanket was draped over your shoulders. You slipped out of your cabin quietly, walking down the hallway until you found yourself in front of Nikolai's room. He stirred in his sleep when you entered. The door creaked slightly, but it didn't seem like his distress was because of the noise.

You sat on the edge of his bed. Nikolai, previously facing away, turned over to face you. His eyes were still screwed shut, eyebrows knitted together and an unhappy expression on his face. You frowned.

"Nikolai." you nudged him gently. "Wake up. You're okay, just wake up. It's just a dream."

He opened his eyes, blinking at you. "Y/n?"

"Hi," you said. A lock of golden hair fell over his forehead, and upon instinct, you reached to brush it away. He let you, not uttering any of his usual complaints.

"You were gone," he mumbled, undoubtedly referencing his nightmare. "I- I couldn't save you, and you were gone."

You shifted into a more comfortable position - your whole body was on the bed now, with your back against the headboard. He leaned his head against your chest, and you ran your fingers through his hair. "It wasn't real. It's okay. You saved me - I'm not going anywhere, 'Lai."

"Me either," he agreed, wrapping his arms around your middle. A beat of silence. Then, "Thank you."

You were more than content to fall asleep like this. Even if it meant waking up with an ache in your neck. Judging from the way he was curled up, practically drinking in your presence, Nikolai felt the same way.

What a feeling it was to have found solace in Nikolai Lantsov, and to know he had found solace in you, too.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nikolai's pov

Nikolai watched from the corner of the ballroom as you laughed at one of Ivan's jokes. One would say that he was scowling, but the Prince of Ravka didn't scowl. No - he was simply observing your conversation with the Heartrender with visible distaste. He was not scowling. And he was not jealous.

You and Ivan were smiling at each other, standing by the refreshments table, mouths moving quickly, the both of you obviously interested in whatever you were talking about. You threw your head back in a laugh. You looked gorgeous. Nikolai wanted to make you laugh like that - more than he wanted to admit.

The last straw was when Ivan lay a hand on your shoulder, and then snaked his arm around you. You didn't seem perturbed by his touch - no, actually, you leaned into it. He bent down to whisper something in your ear that made you duck your head in embarrassment and lightly hit his chest.

Nikolai's glare deepened, if that were even possible. Okay, fine, maybe he was jealous. Did he even have the right to be jealous, though? It wasn't as if he was dating you, as much as he'd like to be.

And oh boy, he'd like to be.

Suddenly, Alina appeared at his side, seemingly out of thin air. He flinched. "Alina."

The girl in question had a mischievous look in her eye. Her hands were clasped in front of her, the long, flowy sleeves of her dress falling just past her wrists. The bottom half of her gown was a sparkly gold, whereas the top half was a dark blue. The two colours faded into each other at the middle, creating a gradient effect. It was a beautiful dress. You had helped Alina pick it out yourself, if he remembered correctly.

"Hello, loverboy." she poked him in the side, grinning knowingly. "How's your crush on Y/n going for you?"

"I don't have a crush on them, Alina, for Saint's sake."

"Oh, is that so? You do seem... ah, what was the word... utterly whipped for them, contrary to what you just said," she said, tilting her head to the side, feigning innocence.

"Am not," he argued. "I-," Nikolai paused, taking notice of you and Ivan walking past a couple metres away. Unfortunately, you were too engrossed in your current conversation to notice him. His eyes lingered on you. He only looked away when you disappeared back into the throng of people.

Alina let out a triumphant 'ha!'.

He directed his attention back to her and glared. "Alina, I swear-,"

"Utterly. Whipped," she mouthed.

"I will behead you," he threatened.

She laughed. "In all seriousness, I really don't think Y/n and Ivan like each other like that," Alina said.

"Well, of course not," he agreed. "Y/n very clearly has eyes for me. I can't say I blame them - who could resist all this? Everyone's all over me, as I'm sure you've noticed."

Alina stared at him pointedly.

"Ah, except for you, of course. You seem to be the only one immune to my charm and charisma. An odd one, you are."

She rolled her eyes. "Why do I even bother," she groaned. "Just swear to me that you'll tell Y/n you like them soon. Within a week. Swear on... your dignity."

"My dignity?" Nikolai drawled.

"Yes, your dignity, because if you don't fess up soon, I'll have to tell Y/n about your crush on them myself," she grinned smugly, and darted off before Nikolai could retort.

He sighed. As he saw it, he had three options:

1. Blackmail Alina (because of course she wouldn't give in to simple bribery)

2. Get on his knees and beg Alina to not tell you of his massive crush (there! he admitted it; he had a massive crush on you! One that he'd been harbouring for just over a year now, too)

3. Listen to Alina, and confess on his own terms

All three were mortifying, and things he absolutely didn't want to do. However, the last was considerably easier to do, and came with the most benefits and the least consequences. You had already seen him through his most embarrassing moments (and he through yours) so even if you rejected him, the humiliation would be minimal.

And maybe he wanted to confess. And maybe there was hope that you liked him back. Nikolai wasn't stupid - he knew when people fancied him. He suspected you liked him back, but then again, that could've been wishful thinking, or maybe he was misreading the entire thing.

He didn't even understand why he was so jealous of the way Ivan and you had interacted. Before he had fallen heads over heels in love with you, his childhood best friend, people flirting with you hadn't been a problem. He'd encouraged it, even. But now, bitterness flared up inside of him every time he saw someone getting a bit too cozy with you.

In short, his feelings for you had completely destroyed his facade of smooth, suave, sexy Prince of Ravka. And it kind of terrified him how poorly he hid it.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nikolai had been acting strange lately, and it was bothering you. You feared the worst - had he finally caught on to your crush? You thought you'd been subtle until Ivan had approached you at the most recent party. Apparently, the scowl on your face as you watched Nikolai flirt with the guests had been fierce enough to kill.

Ivan had given you (unsolicited) advice, telling you to be straightforward and direct. That was what he'd done with Fedyor, after all, and that had worked out well.

You were pacing around your room. Ivan was perched on your bed, watching you have a borderline nervous breakdown like one would watch the view.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you, Ivan?" you demanded. "I'm about to make a life or death decision, and you're enjoying it."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't call this a life or death decision, Y/n. If Nikolai rejects you, he rejects you, and it's his loss. If he reciprocates, good, and you'll be free to frolic in the meadows with him, all fine and dandy."

You stared at him, your expression communicating, "Did you really just say that?", very clearly.

"Okay, okay, fine, I'll be serious." Ivan relented. "Just tell him, Y/n. What's the worst that could happen?"

Just as you were about to respond - "Well, I don't know, what if he rejects me, things become eternally awkward between us, and our 10 year long friendship is ruined because I couldn't keep my mouth shut?" - someone knocked at the door. You opened it to find Nikolai waiting. His hair was perfectly styled, as always. He wore a dark turquoise suit jacket, and a simple white dress shirt underneath. The ghost of a smile appeared on your face; you had chosen the colour for him.

"Hi, Nikolai," you greeted.

"Hello," he said. "Come on a walk with me. It's a lovely day outside, and both of us have been dreadfully busy lately - we may not get another chance to spend time together, I'm afraid."

"Oh! Of course, just let me grab more suitable shoes- I'll be out in a minute- Ivan, move." You rummaged around your room in search of the sandals Nikolai had gifted you for your most recent birthday. Ivan flashed you a grin.

"Tell him!" he whispered as you ducked out the door.

You hoped you didn't seem too jittery as you took Nikolai's arm, even if your insides were filled with butterflies. He seemed deep in thought for the first few minutes of your walk. It wasn't until you were both outside that he finally spoke.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, Y/n, but what was Ivan doing in your room?" he asked.

The question caught you off guard. Why was he so concerned about you and Ivan? It wasn't as if-

Oh.

"Nikolai, don't tell me- are you jealous?" you exclaimed.

"Just answer the question, Y/n," he grumbled, which was enough of an answer for you.

You laughed, only feeling a bit bad that you were so amused. Nikolai Lantsov, jealous. You found that incredibly funny. "Oh, I'm sorry for laughing," you apologised, even as another giggle escaped your mouth. "You don't have to worry, Ivan and I are strictly friends."

He didn't seem convinced. "But the two of you at the party a few days ago-,"

You cut him off. "Nikolai. I promise that there is nothing romantic going on with Ivan and I. And besides, I don't think I'm anywhere near his type."

"Ivan likes men, Nikolai," you supplied, sensing his confusion. "Honestly, you need to keep up with gossip - he and Fedyor have been going strong for nearly three months now."

"Oh," Nikolai said.

"Yeah, oh."

"And, uh, do you? Like men, I mean?"

You bit back another laugh. "Yes, I do. One man in particular, actually."

"Is that so? Care to clue me in on who this man is?"

"You."

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nikolai's pov

"You."

As soon as that single word came out of your mouth, Nikolai's brain short-circuited, and several alarms blared in his mind. ALERT! ALERT! THE PERSON YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH LIKES YOU BACK!

He was too stunned to speak, which was definitely a first. So, naturally, he didn't speak, but instead leaned in to kiss you. His lips brushed chastely against yours. A pause.

"I- I'm really sorry, Y/n, I should have asked beforehand-,"

"Nikolai." you took his face in your hands. "Shut up."

And then you kissed him, and if his brain had been short-circuiting before, this was a full blown system failure. Sparks flew inside of him, and he was acutely aware of you and you only. It was a wonderful feeling, one that he immediately missed when you pulled away.

"Wow," you said.

He grinned. "I'm that good of a kisser, huh?"

When usually you would come up with a witty response, you just smiled. It was a smile Nikolai was pretty sure he'd die to see again.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Falling in love with Nikolai had been a long process. Your simple crush developed into something deeper like a leaky faucet dripping - slowly, but steadily. And then the realisation that you were in love with him hit you like a tidal wave. Drowning you, consuming every inch of your being, but not necessarily in a bad way.

You came to your epiphany while laying awake in bed one night after a whole day spent with the esteemed King of Ravka. It was a wonder that you'd managed to spend a whole 10 hours or so in his company without getting fed up, Tamar had teased. He did annoy you - and had today - but you bullied him back plenty enough. It was easy being with him. Easier than you were used to.

You loved the way his eyes sparkled after correcting someone on their use of the word 'impossible'. Loved how he devoted himself to his country so selflessly. Loved how he smiled at you so genuinely and lovingly, even when you didn't have the energy to show your love in return after a bad day. Saints, you loved him so, so much, and you were so in love with him, too, and-

Holy shit. You were in love with Nikolai.

You were in love. With Nikolai.

A childish giggle bubbled up inside of you, and you sighed happily. What a feeling it was to be in love with the King of Ravka, even if he didn't know it yet.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

You twirled a small flower around in your hands as you walked side by side with Nikolai, your shoulders brushing occasionally. The taller blades of grass tickled your ankles, and a gentle breeze weaved through your hair. The sun peeked out from behind a few clouds, warming your face.

Nikolai intertwined your fingers, sighing in content. He craned back his neck to meet the sunshine, eyes fluttering shut. He looked stunning, just standing there with his almost otherworldly beauty as light spilled over his fine features, highlighting every detail.

"I'm in love with you," you blurted suddenly. "I love you, and I'm also in love with you, so. Yeah. I'm in love with you, Nikolai Lantsov."

You gave yourself a mental round of applause for your eloquence and tact.

He blinked. "Oh." The ghost of a smile appeared on his face, turning into a full-fledged grin when he finally processed your words. "Oh. I'm... I'm in love with you, too, Y/n L/n."

You beamed back at him, and cupped his face in your hands. You gently ran your fingers against his cheeks, tracing a line down to the base of his chest. The fabric of his shirt was thin and soft, unlike the suffocating material his suits were made of. Lovingly, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you close. Your heart fluttered. Saints, you adored Nikolai. More than you could put into words.

"I love you," you whispered. "I love you so much, so intensely that it consumes me, and I'm drowning in it. But instead of it being hard to breathe, it makes breathing easier. It makes everything easier."

You interrupted your little speech by kissing him, just because it felt appropriate, and continued. "I was so lost without you, Nikolai. I didn't realise it, because as I've proved time and time again, I'm more than capable of holding my own-" you smirked as he rolled his eyes at the jab to his overprotectiveness "-but I was. I was a boat lost at sea, floating around in the waves, with no destination and no goal except surviving. Then you came along, and gave me solace. You were my salvation. You and your endearingly stupid jokes and your wild yet grounded behaviour. You're my anchor, Nikolai."

He laughed, but not in the mean way. In the happy way.

"I would pay you back with a monologue of my own," he said. "but all I can think of right now is how perfect you are, and how much I want to kiss you."

Your smile widened, if that were even possible. You met him midway, lips connecting almost desperately. The only coherent thought running through your brain was 'Nikolai, Nikolai, Nikolai.'

Nikolai.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

"That one looks like a dragon," you said, pointing out a lumpy cloud in the sky.

Nikolai tilted his head to the left. It was rather cute - he looked like a puppy, trying to figure out what its owner was saying. His right eyebrow curved in an upward arch (you still had no idea how he managed to raise a single eyebrow at a time), and he pouted slightly. Adorable.

"I don't see it," he deadpanned.

You sighed and shook your head, dismissing the cute puppy ideology. "Nevermind," you huffed. As hard as you tried to pretend you were upset with him, a smile teased at the corners of your mouth, anyway.

"I'm sorry, darling, but I really don't!" he exclaimed, flopping back into the picnic blanket you two had laid out. Really, it wasn't even a picnic blanket. It was just a blanket. The two of you hadn't had time to find a proper one before embarking on your impromptu picnic. Nikolai, ever the improviser, had then brandished a quilt from Saints knew where. You suspected it came from Vasily's room, because who else would be pompous enough to own a red velvet blanket the size of China?

You dramatically exhaled again. "I already said nevermind. Not all of us can be blessed with a creative vision such as mine, after all."

Nikolai laughed. And Saints, the sound was downright melodic. You didn't even want to begin thinking about all the things you'd do to hear it one more time.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Eventually, he began stroking your palm with his callouses fingers. You bit back a smile, and linked your pinkies together. A gathering of clouds mostly covered the sun - enough to allow only a bit of warm, gold light to seep out. You wondered briefly how Nikolai looked right now, basking underneath the faint sunshine.

The answer came to you easily, even without looking at him: fucking beautiful.

However, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of staring at him. The last time he had caught you gaping at him like a lovesick fool, he had teased you endlessly. It was ridiculous. It wasn't as if he didn't stare at you. No, actually. He stared at you all the time. In fact, he was doing it right now.

You bit back a grin when you felt his eyes on you. But before you could tease him for it, he got up suddenly, offering you a hand.

"Come on," he urged. "Follow me."

"Where to?" you questioned curiously.

He smirked. Tugged on your hand. Winked. "You'll see."

"Right, that's not cryptic at all," you muttered.

Eventually, after a minute or so of walking (and plenty of you trying to weasel more information out of him) the two of you had seemed to reach your destination. A huge tree hung above you, offering its shade. You plopped down, but Nikolai remained standing.

Strangely, he was looking rather nervous. Repeatedly tugging at the collar of his beige button-up shirt, and kicking at the grass.

"Y/n, darling, don't just sit there, you're making me nervous," he whined.

You giggled, but stood up anyway. "I could say the same about you. What's on your mind, dear?"

He took a deep breath, and looked you dead in the eyes. "I love you, Y/n. I love you, and I'm in love with you. I always have, and always have been. It's just- you're wonderful. And intelligent. And charming. And I am so, so glad you are my partner - in the romantic sense, and the platonic sense. If I'm being honest, I'm quite sure I'd be tearing at the seams without you to sew me back together every time I do something particularly foolish.

And I hope you'll always be there to ground me. Because I will always be there for you. Th-there's no other way to say this, my darling, but I'd quite like to spend the rest of my life with you, so..."

He brandished a dark blue box from his back pocket (this probably wasn't the time, but you had to mention that you could never fit something that large in your pocket. Why did men's clothing always have bigger pockets?) and got down on one knee.

"Will you do me the honour of marrying me, Y/n?" he finished.

Holy fuck. Holy mother of Saints. Holy everything. Was this real? Saints. This really was real, wasn't it? Nikolai Lantsov was proposing to you.

A sob escaped from your throat, and you nodded frantically, not wanting him to think you were upset. "Yes," you said. "Saints, Nikolai, yes."

He smiled. You knew that he smiled a lot, but this smile was different. Usually, he just grinned or smirked in a devilish way - this was more of a beam. He looked so genuinely happy (genuinely happy, because of you!) that it made your heart soar, and you were pretty sure you fell in love with him all over again for the second time. You'd never get tired of it, though. Not when it came to Nikolai (Nikolai, your husband-to-be!). Never when it came to Nikolai.

You soon found yourself enveloped in a hug. He spun you around, both of you laughing (and crying). When he set you down, you could have sworn you saw his eyes welling up.

"Now, my love, those better be happy tears," he tutted.

"Of course they're happy tears, you stupid puppy dog!" you sniffed. "I love you."

He beamed into your hair. "I love you, too, Y/n."

What a feeling it was to be in love with Nikolai Lantsov, and to know that he was in love with you, too.

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